#take 65 minutes and listen to this

[wyrdoh]

one of the things i can't stand is people being mean to old ladies. especially esl old ladies. like please. be patient with them. like for real

[benevolentbones]

coffee | spencer reid x reader

warnings: ??mild flirting, spencer checking you out?? gender neutral

word count: 0.7ish

summary: you meet spencer for the first time while he gets his morning coffee.

!!this is my first time writing for this fandom,, and first time writing in over a year so i may be rusty!!

it was a known fact that spencer reid was practically fuelled by coffee, and this morning was no exception. spencer had been up all night reading case files and finishing off his paperwork from the last case, which usually didn’t take the man too long, but his mind had been elsewhere for the last few days.

it had come to his attention, when the team returned from their last case, that the bau had hired a new receptionist. and usually he wasn’t too fussed about newcomers that weren’t directly associated with his team, but something about you was different.

he first noticed you standing in the kitchenette of the bullpen, with penelope. the blonde woman had you engrossed in one of her rambles about one of the fantasy games she often played in her downtime.

you stood beside her, a blue mug that read ‘worlds best dad’ glued in your grasp as you listened intently. you nodded along to everything garcia was saying, wisps of your neat hair falling out of place, which you quickly tucked behind your ears.

spencer noticed you wore a dark button up, which you had rolled up to your elbows. along with a nice fitting pair of dress pants, his hazel eyes lingering on the curve of your hips a little longer than intended.

he blinked himself out of his trance, ambling over to the coffee maker which conveniently was right beside you.

“-and when you level up, you get the ability to enchant your armour, and y’know your girl had to get some-“ garcia continued to rant as spencer picked up a cup and turned the machine on.

“hey reid have you met our newest member?” penelope beamed, turning to face the brunette who began to pour the worlds worst filter coffee into his cup.

his hazel eyes darted up from what he was doing and met yours. you had turned now fully to face him, garcia standing to your left.

“hi” you smiled sweetly at him, brushing your thumbs over the ceramic of your cup.

spencer felt his face flush warm for a second, the man spluttered out a ‘nice to meet you’ before turning his attention back to his coffee.

penelope hummed, knowing that was probably the best introduction he was going to get.

“well i’ve got to get back- lots of hacking to do.” garcia shot you a smile and darted off in the direction of her office.

you couldn’t help but stare as you watched the man begin to pour a mountain of sugar into his cup, every time you thought he would stop he tilted the container more, to further dump the sweet substance into his beverage.

before you could even think, words had slipped past your lips. “do you want some coffee with your sugar, dr.reid?”

you immediately pursed your lips shut, afraid that maybe joking around was too forward after having only met the man a minute prior.

you noticed a small smile grace his features as he stopped pouring the sugar, reaching for a spoon to stir it together.

“actually it’s not uncommon for people to take their coffee this way, around 65% of the US add sugar and/or cream to their coffee.” he mumbled out, taking a sip and making eye contact with you.

“y’know what, i won’t argue with that.” you smiled, taking a sip of your drink.

spencer eyed your form, his cheeks growing warm.

“let me guess…you take yours black?” he mused, noting little details about how you crossed your legs when you stood or how you chewed on your lower lip after saying something.

you trailed your gaze along his suit clad form, his striped shirt was fully buttoned with a black tie to compliment it. he wore a dark grey pair of chinos, standing with one hand in the left pocket as he took another sip from his cup, his focus never leaving you, hazel eyes studying you through thick rimmed glasses.

“you guessed right dr.reid, i’m already sweet enough.” you gave him a small smile before walking back to your desk.

[lavenderspence]

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

masterlist

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 

“I love you.” 

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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[g4yforethan]

love language

pairing: ethan landry x male!reader

summary: ethan and reader have fun on halloween night !

warnings: cursing, smut, top!ethan, bottom!reader

a/n: hii this is from a request so i tried my best ! also im so excited for halloween this year for some reason

it was halloween night and tara and anika had invited you to a halloween party and since you had no other plans going on that night, you figured why not? your boyfriend ethan landry was also going and you didn't want to feel left out or let him go by himself so you went with him. you got there and talked with tara and mindy and soon the three of you started taking shots together. after 2 shots, you started to feel a little sick and went over to ethan. “hey baby whats wrong?” you tell him how you feel and he walks you out. “hey how about we just go home instead?” “yeah if that’s okay with you ethan.” “of course baby let’s go.”

you two walk back to your apartment which helped you get rid of the annoying nausea you felt. once you came back, the two of you walked to your bed and sat down. “thanks for waking back with me.” ��oh come on i wasn’t gonna leave you there was i?” you laughed and gave him a kiss on the lips. you realized it was just the two of you alone since you shared the apartment with chad as well. you looked at ethan who gave you the same look. you two kiss again and more and more. he picked you up and had you on his lap. you kiss his neck and he starts to take your shirt off.

“fuck you’re so beautiful.” he whispers in your ear which turns you on even more. you take his shirt off and start to leave hickies all over his neck and chest. he rolls his eyes back and grabs onto your hair. “ethan i want you inside of me.” his face turns red but he listens and lays you on your stomach. he licks yours hole for several minutes before teasing you with his tip. he goes in slowly grabbing you waist and massaging your back. “fuck ethan.” “you like that baby boy?” “yes baby.” each stroke he gave became more intense for you. he goes even faster as you start to arch your back. your roll your eyes back and moan in pleasure which turned ethan on even more. ethan turns you on your back and puts his dick back inside. he grabs your neck and kisses you while he goes faster and faster.

"i wanna ride your dick." you tell ethan as he positions himself on his back. you start to ride which sends an overload of pleasure into your body. you feel ethan's heavy breathing and sweat come onto you as you keep riding. he whimpers and moans in your ear. "fuck y/n i'm close." "cum inside of me baby." he moans as he fills your body with his cum. he kisses your neck as you cum not too long after. you kiss him and lay on his chest while he starts to play with your hair. "fuck y/n i guess those 2 shot really brought out something in you huh?" you laugh and playfully hit him. "whatever ethan. guess i was your treat with no tricks." ethan laughs and slightly cringes at your joke and gives you another kiss on your head.

a knock on the door interrupts you and ethan's pillow talk."hey ethan, y/n, i'm back! are you guys in here?" it was chad who had come back from the halloween party."uhh yeah we were just watching a movie together nothing much." chad seemed intrigued. "oo which movie? chucky? friday the 13th?""yeah one of those listen just give us 5 minutes." he was confused but obliged. you rush to put your clothes back on and leave the room. you run into chad who notices your messy hair. "did you just take a shower or is that sweat?" "uhh it's just sweat it's really hot in here." the temperature read 65 degrees. ethan comes out and asks chad if he could grab something from the lobby. chad leaves and a big sigh of relief rushes through you and ethan's body. the two of you kiss and laugh at the whole thing.

[letmesleeponu4sumtime]

20220207

I’m snacking right now; gunpowder tea and cinnamon hotteok. I just had lunch, I made myself spring rolls with a side of kimchi. I’m sleepy, the weather is fluctuating a lot. Two days ago it was 65 degrees, these past two days it’s been 78-80 degrees. Fall and winter are kind of obsolete in California

_+As I pour my second cup of tea, Ryuchi Sakamoto’s “12” plays in my AirPods. I think this is my favorite album of his

I’ve been reading a lot of Health Gossip so yesterday I took my first olive oil bath and did an oil pulling. I want to make olive oil baths a part of my weekly routine. I felt so anew afterward. I listened to a semi-ambient playlist I made and soaked for about 20 minutes. My hair is so soft and hydrated

_+I’m loving this tea. You must drink it while it’s still hot enough to burn your tongue to get the balanced floral notes. I always let tea sit out...This reminds me of something I read somewhere on the internet where this woman’s mother dies and she visits her house and is reminded of her through all the full cups of tea she left around. I guess she often got distracted, I see myself in that

Today I was thinking about the art of practicing self care while at work as I recalled my olive oil bath from last night. It was a random thought. I feel like every time I scroll on Tik Tok cursed videos will slip into my carefully curated peaceful algorithm of women “looksmaxxing". They go to bed with all these devices on that are supposed to enhance your appearance over time. For example chin straps, mouth tape, head wrap, face masks, red light therapy masks…while I deeply enjoy the concept of self-care and looking after yourself and they can be quite entertaining to watch on occasion there is an insane obsession with looking perfect that exists on the internet. God forbid you get caught in a bad photo or look like you worked 40 hours that week (because you did). Despite generally hating photos of myself, I think there is something so beautiful about someone that looks human, that looks like they live in their body. Our bodies aren’t cars or vehicles that exist solely to do worldly tasks before we retreat back to the internet at the end of the day. They’re our homes. Yes, take care of yourself and indulge in excessive treatments from time to time, if it makes you feel good but there has to be an intrinsic motivation behind it. The concept of self-care that’s become mainstream is an aesthetic, not a practice with its only reward being extrinsic. When making self-care intrinsic it’s much deeper than an Aesop or Barbra Sturm face mask, lighting overpriced incense in Tekla PJ's. It’s the hard stuff; sitting in silence, reflecting, putting your phone down, having real conversations….I don’t know..just thinking out loud...

[the-fandom-is-now-my-life]

The idea that future Leo and mc having bouts of "was that past Leo just now??? Smh" is SO funny to me like

Imagine past Leo keeps coming back to take a look at his future, and it's starting to piss Leo off like ??? Man he just wants to cuddle with his wife after work, and now there's this little shit coming in to steal his cuddles AND he's treating his wife semi poorly??? (Future Leo can't fathom that it's his own damn self that's the problem LMFAO)

Future Leo starts to leave notes and passive aggressive comments on his body so past Leo can find it. Past Leo doesn't know what's going on but every time he goes to the future he keeps finding angrier and angrier notes (first it's "treat her well, you're a guest here" and "you love her more than life itself even if you don't know it yet" but after a few rounds he gets impatient and starts going nuclear "listen you little shit you make my wife uncomfortable again I'll remember this shit and shave your head in the past" "get the fuck out and leave me alone I'm gonna make you binge eat and make you fat")

Imagine future Leo being so pissed off about the "stolen" time that he insists that he gets EXTRA loving from his wife for it (it's really not that bad, he's just being dramatic again) and whoops it looks like all those extra rounds have gotten his darling wife pregnant 🥴🥴🥴

if past Leo manages to come back in the middle of a sesh with a very obviously pregnant mc he might just have a heart attack then and there pp

The diabolical streamer might be peeking into the future too much

Leo has gotten used to popping to the future for a little while. Leo is neither used to the interruptions to his life and very upset about it

Wc: 1,6K

Notes: nah but he would actually die jsjsjsj he knew he was married to her but not that he was that down bad! This was so fun to write

Cw: she/her for the reader, implications of sex and Leo comes when his future version has sex with his wife

Leo recognizes he can be hard to get along with most of the time, he is snarky, snoops around for secrets and extorts people with them, can be cruel, among many other things. But he never expected to say that he got himself fed up with his existence.

He seems to be getting on his last nerve, Leo notes at the greenish bruises on his midriff while changing clothes after bathing. He once again visited the birdpond even if his trip was a rather short one as Sho pulled him away when he (or rather whatever consciousness from his future self he had in his body) started hitting and scratching himself on the stomach.

Sitting down on his bed, he starts spending cream on the small wounds, he would hate to have any sort of scar.

“And you want to go back tomorrow after that?” Sho asks besides him, watching the reddish and purple splotches and thin red lines across his abdomen.

“Well, yeah, I want to see what number will be drawn on the influencer gala” he says, as nonchalant as ever, as if whatever damage he did to himself was nothing more than a light annoyance.

“You are crazy, dude”

“Hush, I'm learning a TikTok dance”

And as he said, that night as soon as Alan turned off his light they both sneaked off to the hedge maze centered around the birdpond.

“So, you remember what we are doing?”

“10 minutes in and I take you off. If you start hitting yourself I'm just allowed to hold you but not lift you”

“Good! If I see one more bruise and it will be all your fault, m'kay?”

“Hey, no, wait-!” But before he is able to complain he already dipped his head underwater.

Already used to the ache inside his lungs and the feeling of drowning, it doesn't take him much longer to settle on the current situation.

There is a colorful movie playing on the 65 inches mounted tv and he feels a comfortable weight on his lap. When he looks down he sees your head on his chest and legs thrown over his own, most of the weight must be from the sleeping toddler on your legs. A string of spit threatening to spill on his leg makes Leo recoil away violently, almost making you fall off the sofa and your daughter too.

Now awake and in a bad mood Emmy pouts and kicks her little legs “Daddy!” she waddles towards him so he would pick her up and lull her to sleep as always.

With the same coldness as you remember his first year version having, he spits venom at the, honestly quite messy, child “Don't even touch me, you have spit and sugar all over yourself, you are going to mess my clothes” and he barricades himself inside the bathroom, leaving you to calm down an upset toddler.

Hidden away inside the bathroom, he sits down on the bathtub rim and swipes around his phone, looking at his TikTok account and looking for videos that are around 10 years old. For once he curses being so active in social media as when he reaches his current year Sho was pulling him up to the past.

“So? Anything good?”

“Hardly anything and her kid almost slobbers all over me”

“I think that is also your child, dude”

‘stupid child’ Adult Leo growls mentally. Each and every time his past himself would rudely interrupt in his few soft domestic hours he has with his family and treat them like shit his head would be splitting down the middle with an unbearable headache, no matter what he took or if he drank water he would have to sit down for hours until it passed. Luckily his wife and daughter would comfort him while they watched tv with very low volume.

Wobbling out of the bathroom and aiming for the modular sofa he whines for any scrap of affection he believes he is entitled to “LI, Emmy, let's watch a movie, daddy doesn't feel good”

Plopping down on ‘his’ side of the sofa he just noticed Emmy was too busy getting calmed down to watch a movie with her dad.

“What happened, Emmy? Want to tell me while we watch Cinderella?” and even after attempting to bribe her with her favorite movie she just looks the other way with a pout before stomping towards her room, slamming the door.

Noticing your husband was back you smile, a part in relief of not having to take care of your toddler alone and another part of mocking delight “Emilia is very angry at you because your past self told her you weren't going to carry her because she was dirty and was going to mess your clothes”

Mortified, Leo grasps his forehead, he doesn't remember himself as one to be that mean to kids. When he feels you sit next to him and hug his shoulder he starts acting for affection and attention.

“That stupid brat is going to make my baby hate me”

“honey, that brat is you”

The attempt at reasoning with him is met with more whining. After years of marriage he learned that there wasn't anything he couldn't get from you with enough whining “my head hurts” he digs himself a space on your clavicle “I just want to sit down and enjoy myself with my family but now I can't even do that”

Combing some fly away hairs and planting a kiss on his helix honeyed words lure him closer “Emmy might not want to be close to you now but why don't we have some personal time together”

And with a devilish smile his hands dip down your back and butt while his mouth attached itself to whatever patch of skin he can get close to.

Family vlogs are something Leo found himself doing weekly, complying with his fans' demands. There is rarely anything interesting, sometimes doctor's visits, minor sickness, projects he had to say nothing about yet still hype, that sort of day to day things.

After going over a possible trip to Spain for a gaming convention he was invited to, Leo looks over the most frequent questions of the last vlog. He is so thankful that he coded a bot to group comments with the same or similar key words.

“So, for the last question… YN they are asking if you were hungry when we filmed the last video, they say you were scrolling UberEATS for a while”

You shrug while playing with your phone, not paying him much mind “well, when I was pregnant with Emmy I was pretty hungry, it is normal that I would be now too”

It is hardly one second before his usual fake smile dropped, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. In an attempt to turn off the video his hands fiddle with the button but it takes a few extra seconds than he expected. It is going to look awkward when he uploads it but why act as if he has ever cared about it and more so especially now?

The last few seconds it's possible to hear an ‘are you serious?’

His fans did go wild in the comment section after he posted

Leo_simp76: damn, he is locked down for real, let's cry simps

User_8274849: He already had a kid and is married, did you truly think he was free???

Leo_simp76: I would delulu into thinking he got babytrapped and was going to leave her!!

T.B.d.e: wasn't his child's first birthday one week ago?? How did she let him hit it?

Leo_simp76: I would let him as soon as I could stand. If anything it's weird it took that long!!

The last day before he took a break from looking into the future,as soon as he dips his head down to the water the usual annoyance in his lungs is overpowered by a different kind of ache caused by breathlessness like in Gym class.

“Leo, stop teasing~” a breathy moan begs from beneath him. Looking down he finds his hand snug against the column of your neck, lips connected to your skin just below your collarbone.

You were splayed under him, legs hugging his hips and one arm drawing figures on his biceps. Bodies close enough to notice your swollen stomach against his abdomen. Thankfully enough you had your eyes closed shut and couldn't notice the switch.

He on a technical level guessed this future version of himself and you fucked (as awkward as that image is for him) there was Emilia, or Emmy, that looked very much like him and you; when he snooped around he found condoms and there were multiple pregnancy tests in the en suite bathroom. But he had never barged in during the act.

Such a great fucking time he gets in, balls deep inside the nerd and an orgasm threatening to wreck him. Or so he would think if a wave of dopamine didn't swallow him whole in the same breath.

Quickly he leaves the water, if Sho had to say he almost looked horrified, eyes wide, breathing quickly, face red and… oh, he was just suddenly horny. Any teasing he might have wanted to do is cut short with Leo's nasty side eye but no explanations.

On the other side of the timeline there is a married couple with a sulking husband.

“Are you feeling alright?” opening your eyes you manage to see a very clearly upset Leo resting his forehead against your sternum and a hand on your breast.

“I can't even have sex with my wife without that brat ruining it”

“What? He was here just now?!”

“Once again, I didn't get to enjoy it”

“Wait a second! I'm still sensitive! ~~!”

[devildomwriter]

First Things They Say to MC

Lucifer

“I will explain everything to you.” — (1-1)

Mammon

“Huh? Who the hell are ya? You ain’t Lucifer.” Or “Are ya foolin’ around? Who the hell are ya?” — (1-1)

Leviathan

“Do you realize what just happened? Mammon used you as a distraction to get away from me. …Or maybe I should say he used you as a sacrifice. I’ll admit that mammon is one of the scummiest scumbags you’ll ever meet…a total lowlife. But still, that was pretty dumb of you letting him use you like that.” *sigh* “This is EXACTLY why humans are— …Wait a second. Humans…yes, that’s it… Suddenly, I’ve got an idea. Listen, are you free right now? Of course you are. You’ve gotta be, right? You know what? Never mind. Either way, you’re coming with me.” — (1-10)

Satan

“Aha. So I’m that one, am I? Nice to meet you MC. I am Satan, the avatar of wrath.” — (1-2)

Asmodeus

“That’s right! It pretty much sums up what I’m about! Including my power. Let’s give a little demonstration! MC, could you gaze into my eyes for a moment? It’s okay, I don’t hurt you. Come on don’t be shy… …Wait a minute. There’s something about you…hmm…” — (1-2)

Beelzebub

“I’m Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.” — (1-2)

Belphegor

“…el… …elp… Help… Someone help me… Help… ….Over here! — (2-15)

Solomon

“Hey, you there. That’s right, I’m talking to you, the human with that frightened, tormented look on your face that demons love so much. You’re practically screaming, ‘Come and eat me! I’m scrumptious!’ Your name’s MC, isn’t it?” — (2-2)

Thirteen

“Ahahahaha! Ooh, that was just hilarious! You walked RIGHT into my trap! Well done, Mr. Bucket 3! WELL DONE!” or “Ugh, what was THAT?! Honestly, I don’t believe it! Mr. Bucket Number 3 was supposed to land on your HEAD not the floor!” — (65-3)

Simeon

“Well, hello, MC. I’ve heard a lot of rumors!” — (2-13)

Luke

“Never trust…mmrmhrm.” — (2-15)

Raphael

“…I have to say, I take that as an insult. You think I’m Michael? I do not appreciate being mistaken for that socially inept weirdo. My name is Raphael. Try to remember that in the future.” or “Correct.” or “…Wrong. If you don’t know, say so. Don’t just guess at random. My name is Raphael.”

Michael

“Hello there, MC.” *sigh*… “Here I am, finally getting to talk to you, and it had to be in a situation like this… Can you hear me, MC?” — (38-17)

Little D. No. 2

“Hello there, I’m Little D. No. 2! Ah, but call me Number Two if you would, mmkay?” — (7-10)

Mephistopheles

“Don’t touch that! …So, it’s you. It’s bad form to pick up someone else’s documents and start looking through them, you know? Don’t they teach you that in the human world?” — (63-1)

Barbatos

“…Ah yes, pardon me. I suppose we haven’t met before, have we? My name is Barbatos. I apologize for not introducing myself sooner. I have the honor of serving as steward to Lord Diavolo. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” — (2-13)

Diavolo

“Welcome to the devildom MC. …Oh pardon me. Feeling a bit shocked, are we? Well, that’s understandable. You’ve only just arrived after all. As a human it will probably take a while for you to adjust to things here in the devildom.” — (1-1)

[thejockout]

New File Time! | Team Player (BONUS RELEASE)

(LET ME STRESS that you should read this description carefully. Don't worry - this isn't taking the slot of a "standard" release because it's so, incredibly niche. But for those of you who'll like it, I think you'll really like it. I made a poll about this ages ago on Tumblr and people expressed interest in it, soooo here it is! )

Right. Moving on. This is probably the weirdest thing I've actually released - it was a commission for someone who, basically, wanted a file that would help them get some kinky enjoyment out of work + help them fit in better with their masculine coworkers. It's very much a "becoming one of The Guys at work" file basically. You'll be influenced by and attracted to your coworker's masculinity (very fitting if you're in a field with a Corporate Bro culture) and want to fit in with them, so you'll subtly change to be a better team player by matching them. Understand the title now?

However, there's also some kinky incentive to work hard, achieve your goals, and etc. There's almost an element of "dronification" as being of service to The Company brings pleasure, which can double as a means to help you feel less stressed and crappy about your workload. Instead you'll take a strange... even arousing... fulfilment from being a good Team Player and getting your job done. And hey, with any luck, no one will notice how hard it makes you.

The thumbnail also took me like 25-30 minutes so you're welcome. Not because it's good, but because I stuck with it... and then a friend had to bail me out and fix it BUT I STILL PUT TIME IN OKAY.

CONTENT WARNINGS:

Masculinization - you'll absorb/learn masculine traits from your coworkers and begin to embody tem, so that you can fit in better with them. Elements of peer pressure here.

Trigger installation; workwear, suits, etc - these garments will arouse you, stimulating you to do your best and be the best man and Team Player you can be.

Installation of a work/productivity kink - you'll begin to find achieving your aims/goals/quotas etc. to be a pleasurable, almost erotic activity at times, with safeties to make sure it's not going to get you in trouble at work.

Implication of submission to company hierarchy, which will then bring pleasure - this is where the Team Player element kicks in. The phrase is used as a trigger to inspire feelings of company loyalty, masculinity, and chill around your work to make it more fun for you.

General workplace productivity/calm suggestions - finally, there's also just a plain Safe-For-Work (get it??) element to the file where you'll be encouraged to avoid workplace drama, but assert yourself as needed... keep your head down and get your shit done till clock-out, when you'll wanna hang with your coworkers to build team morale. After all, that's what a good Team Player would do!

--------------------------------------------------------- https://linktr.ee/jockout When I'm not dropping myself or others, I'm off being a mystical forest bro in the wilderness of Ireland. But I am always available for commissions if you reach out via DM. My flat rate is currently $65-100, but you can check my pinned Tumblr post for more up-to-date info. You can also support me with a one-time tip either via Paypal or Ko-Fi! Keep listening, bros.

[meikadonnelly]

|| izzy stradlin ||

you and izzy are very close friends and you go over to his apartment to see him when he shows you a song he's writing...

no trigger warning <3

fluff

You walk up to Izzy's apartment and knock on his door. He called you about 30 minutes ago asking if you wanted to hang out with him today which you of course did. You turn and look over your shoulder to watch the cars going past until you hear the latch on his door and you turn around to see him smiling. "Hey," you say.

"I'm glad you came," he says.

"Did you think I wouldn't?" You ask, walking in and closing the door behind you.

"Not really," he says which makes you laugh. You look over to the lounge area as he walks over to the fridge and notice Izzy's journal on the coffee table and his black guitar sitting on the sofa.

"You writing something?" You ask. He turns around as he takes a sip of water from the fridge. He nods without saying anything. You look at him with a slight smile on your face. He sits the bottle of water on the counter and sighs.

"You wanna hear it don't you?" he asks. You nod eagerly and he shakes his head and rolls his eyes but he still has a smirk on his face. We go and sit on the sofa and he puts one leg on the couch with his guitar on top. He strums the guitar. It's a different style to what he usually writes.

"He lost his mind today, he left it out back on the highway, on 65," he start singing quietly. You listen to the lyrics trying to work out what they mean.

"She loved him yesterday, yesterday's over, I said okay, that's alright," he continues. You slowly piece together that the song is about a break up or something close. He finishes the parts of the song that he's written and look at me. "You like it?" he asks.

"Of course I do!" You say back which makes him smile. "Your voice suits it perfectly," you add. He shrugs, putting his guitar down. "What?" you ask.

"Axl's our singer, he'll sing it," he says. "Plus it's not even finished, and it might never be, it's only an idea."

"You have a right to sing your own song, if you ask him, I'm sure he'll be fine with you singing it," you say. "Plus, I think it should go on the next album." He looks up at you.

"You think so?" he asks.

"Yes!" you reply. He stands up and walks to the fridge to grab another water for you. While he walks back over, he asks a question.

"Do you get what it's about?"

"A breakup? Or relationship problems?" You reply, still a little unsure.

"Kind of, but that's only part of it," he says, passing you the bottle of water and sitting down right next to you. "It's about how life is too short to worry about things that have already happened, for example a break up," he explains. You watch as he tells you about the song. He turns towards you so you cross your legs and face him.

"Is it based on experience?" you ask, knowing that he'd gone through a messy breakup about 3 months ago. He shrugs again.

"I guess so," he admits before continuing. You stay silent but listen to him closely. He finally looks at you and you make eye contact with him. He pauses for a second before you notice his face change. It looks like he's thinking about something. Something other than the song.

"You okay?" you ask, and he glances at you.

"Fuck it," he says quietly and you raise an eyebrow.

"Wha-," he cuts you off by kissing you and almost straight away, you return it. You both pull away after a second and look at each other. He laughs and you feel yourself blush so you look down at your lap.

"Was that okay?" he asks you. You nod and he smiles. "Good," he replies before kissing you again. This time he pushes you to lay down on the sofa and he is hovering above you.

"About time," you murmur in between kisses.

"Oh shut up," Izzy says, laughing. You both stop for a moment and look at each other before Izzy lets himself lay on your chest, his lower body in between your legs. You run your hands through his black hair and you sit up slightly to let his arms go behind your back. You both lay there in silence for about 5 minutes before you hear voices outside Izzy's door which is followed by a knock.

"You want me to get that?" you ask. Izzy groans which vibrates through your chest.

"They'll go away," he finally says and if on queue, you hear the door open look to see Duff and Steven. "Or not," Izzy says. The two boys stop and look down at Izzy who has lifted his head up.

"About fucken time man," Duff says to Izzy.

"That's what I said!" you tell him. Izzy groans once again and puts his head back down. Duff and Steven walk over and sit down on the floor in the lounge and Izzy rolls onto his back and sits up a bit. You put your arms around his neck.

"Okay guys, just make yourself at home, its fine," Izzy says, slightly annoyed. you giggle quietly.

"We wanna talk to you about the album," Steven says.

"What about it?" Izzy asks.

"Well, have you got any song ideas?" Duff asks. Izzy glances at his notebook which prompts Duff to grab it. He reads through the lyrics and looks back at Izzy. "Can you show us?" he asks. Izzy sits up and grabs his guitar, laying back down on you. He shows them exactly what he showed you and you watch Duff and Steven's reaction.

"That's awesome," Steven says once he's finished. "We need that on the album."

"And you have to sing it," Duff says. Izzy leans his head back at you and you smile.

"Axl's voice won't suit it as much as yours," Steven adds.

"Okay well, we need to talk to the others before we decide anything," Izzy says.

"If they agree then will you?" Steven asks. Izzy thinks for a second.

"I suppose it is my song.." he says.

[diazsdimples]

Inspiration Saturday/Several Sentence Sunday

Tagged by @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @spotsandsocks @cal-daisies-and-briars @loserdiaz and @bidisasterbuckdiaz thank you friends! I shall get to all your snippets so soon! Also tagging you back for Sunday

Guys I am being such a bad person and have 6 wips that I'm actively writing, BUT the Frostpunk beans are beaning so hard and I'm so glad! Ngl getting people to force me to write it was extremely effective cause turns out, just like Evan Buckley, I have a praise kink that's visible from space sdkjsdkjd. Here's a moodboard I made ages ago and another small snippet!

“Hey bud, it’s Buck. I- I don’t know if you can hear me but I’ve bought a book with me today, and thought I’d read it to you. My sister used to read it to me when I was little, and it always made me feel safe, so I figured I’d do the same for you.” Buck waits a moment to see if Christopher is going to respond, a twitch of a finger or anything to indicate that he can hear Buck’s words, but the kid remains still, slumbering peacefully with his hands folded over his stomach. Buck licks his lips and opens the books, a wave of nostalgia passing over him as the dry pages pass between his fingers as he flicks through to the first lines. “The year that Buttercup was born, the most beautiful woman in the world was a French scullery maid named Annette…” Buck lets himself get carried away by the words as he reads through the first chapter, mapping out the world for Christopher. As he reads, Buck watches as Christopher’s heart rate slowly decreases, going from a swift 90 beats per minute to a much more acceptable 65. It’s enough to make Buck a little choked up, if he thinks about it too much, that his presence and his voice are calming enough to calm Christopher right down. Buck can’t help but notice the way a few medics hang around as he reads, finding excuses to linger in order to listen to the story. One medic takes Edmundo’s blood pressure three times in the span of 2 minutes, claiming that it was a “little too high for my liking”, but considering he’d heard Hen announce only 10 minutes prior that his blood pressure was a healthy 128/75, Buck isn’t buying it. By the time he’s finished the first chapter, there’s three medics shamelessly hovering around him, one even perched on the end of Edmundo’s bed, her chin resting on her hands and a faraway look in her eyes. Buck slams the book shut, chuckling internally as everyone in the room jumps and suddenly bustles back to work. “Well, that’s the first chapter, bud,” he says as he leans over Christopher once again, brushing a hand over the kid’s forehead under the pretence of checking his temperature. “I’ll be back again in a few hours for chapter two, gotta go out and do some perimeter checks before Bobby yells at me. Hen and Chimney will be right here if you wake up, and your dad is sleeping right next to you. I’ll be back, I promise.” He gets up off the chair, tucking the furs back over the arms once again. He thinks about pressing a kiss to Christopher’s forehead but decides against it. Christopher isn’t his son, after all. His friends would have questions. There’s absolutely no excuse, however, for the way he walks over to Edmundo’s bedside, takes his cold hand in his, and rests his forehead against Edmundo’s shoulder, whispering “please, wake up,” into the fabric of his hospital gown. Buck is aware he’s in trouble.

no pressure tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @neverevan

@babybibuck @fortheloveofbuddie @aroeddiediaz @daffi-990 @jesuisici33

@steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @bibuckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life

@slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress

@epicbuddieficrecs @smilingbuckley @spagheddiediaz @actuallyitsellie @babytrapperdiaz

@thekristen999 @loveyouanyway @shortsighted-owl @underwaterninja

[voidarchivefiles]

Lucid dreaming for the void state

So this post is inspired by this success story which mentioned using lucid dream binaural beats to induce a lucid dream and then enter the void through there. Shout out to @gorgeouslypink for introducing lucid dreaming as a method to enter the void and popularising it with her Lucid dreaming void post and FILD Challenge! I went through some success stories and tagged the ones that entered via lucid dreams and there's currently 9 with 2 more in the queue.

Anyway, that success story never linked what they used so I was curious and searched on youtube and found this, a 1.5hr lucid dreaming induction track, released 11 years ago and has 3.6m views. If you read the comments, there's many people who successfully had lucid dreams from it! Basically you wear headphones and listen to the track as you fall asleep and it will hopefully trigger a lucid dream while you're sleeping.

From the video description:

Listen to this audio AS YOU FALL ASLEEP, and after you have developed the habit of performing constant 'reality checks'. Remember, this is a tool, and not a magic formula. ;) Headphones required for binaural beats to work This lucid dreaming induction is a variation of the original i-dreamer. Improvements: a more gradual descending-step-sequence (alpha to delta) to induce sleep. Quieter and more frequent affirmations. Refined gamma peaks (40hz). The first 65 minutes will entrain you to a deep delta sleep using a descending binaural frequency + various water sfx. The remainder consists of a low-theta wave to help transit your mind into REM sleep. During this segment I have recorded various affirmations to help trigger a lucid state: "You are dreaming" "Do a reality check" "This is a dream" "You are taking control of your dream" Within the theta-wave are various 4-5 second long peaks peak at 40 Hz. ("...an EEG machine recorded frequencies in the 40 Hz range in lucid dreamers enjoying a bit of conscious REM...")

The channel has a playlist of lucid dream induction audios but the one I linked above is the most popular one. They seem to be different though so it's good to have options if you want to experiment a bit.

Of course there's numerous ways to induce lucid dreaming and this is just one possible way. I recommend checking out @charmedreincarnation and @themanifestingbrat's lucid dreaming guide if you want to learn more, there are a few successful anons who used her guide!

Just sharing this in case it helps someone!

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: Interstella 5555

The process I employ to figure out what movie to cover on this little column of mine is more of an art than a science. Some times it has me scrolling mindlessly through my letterboxd or netflix history looking for a movie I feel strongly enough about to write about. Other times, I decide to listen to Alive 2007 and realize Daft Punk is one of the best musical acts of all time. So, with that in mind, let's talk about that time they made a movie.

As one might expect for an almost feature-length movie to the 2001 Daft Punk album Discovery, Interstella follows the story of a group of alien musicians who find themselves abducted by extrasolar interlopers, shortly revealed to be humans who takes our blue-skinned friends to earth. Once there, the Interstella gang are brainwashed and disguised as humans in order to work for a skeezy producer slash symphonic orchestra conductor, later revealed to have struck a Faustian bargain with some sort of space satan for eternal life and riches provided he can sacrifice 5555 golden records, and the artists who produced them with it.

It's not the most complex story once you get over the novelty of the reverse alien abduction and space satanism bits, but that is perhaps inevitable, considering this movie has no spoken dialog apart from the odd line or lyrics that is meant to be diegetic. Secondary protagonist who I have dubbed as "guitar spaceship guy," for example, sings Digital Love to himself while cleaning said guitar-shaped spaceship and day-dreaming of the alien band's bass player before receiving his call to action.

The movie probably shines the hardest when there's lot of mechanical stuff going on. The sequence when the Interstella crew gets their brainwashing and humanface disguises, the mechanical beats Harder, Faster, Better, Stronger makes it seem like a How It's Made episode from a much MUCH darker timeline.

It's also interesting to me how the brainwashing does seem to take just fine, but the crew, now under the name Crescendolls, seem morose, still every bit as able to make killer tracks as in their pre-abduction days, but without the clear and apparent joy. Granted, the hardships of being a Commercial Super Hit Artist does probably play into it, but even before that, there's a profound malcontent in them. I almost find myself wishing there was some expository dialog here to explore this. Do they know on some level that they don't belong on earth? That they're being made to do the thing they once loved wholeheartedly for someone else's gain?

It's hard not to speculate on the auteur side of this. The context that Discovery was a departure album from Daft Punk's established house music style, and arguably their entry into the attention of wider pop culture, is similarly hard to ignore. Considering Daft Punk adopted their now-iconic robot mask personae at the same time, it's not hard to read a fear of becoming part of the Pop Machine in Interstella 5555.

If I can now only take a brief digression to talk about the music. Discovery is one of my favorite albums of all time. Filing off the rough edges and at times consciously abrasive soundscapes from earlier releases makes for a compulsively listenable album. I'm particularly fond of how Daft Punk uses vocal performance, primarily through samples as a musical element. The sample of Barry Manilow's paranoid cuckold anthem Who's Been Sleeping In My Bed in Superheroes is somehow both basically incomprehensible and instantly iconic, and the thought of having ears keen enough and musical intuition sharp enough to pick up on it in the first place is one of those genius moves that I understand, but could not replicate for all the gold in the world.

If Interstella 5555 has any flaws, apart from annoyingly being 5 minutes too short to be classified as a feature length film at 65 minutes, it's probably the slightly disposable tragedy of Guitar Spaceship Guy, who's doomed but heroic quest to save Interstella 5555 arguably could have been cut in its entirety. His infatuation with Interstella's bass player plays out in this structurally sound but kind of lifeless romance by the songs Digital Love and Something About Us, and the fact that GSG and Bass Player Lady doesn't actually know each other becomes impossible to ignore. His dying... dream sharing or whatever else is going on there feels like it's following a character arc that isn't there. Bass Player Lady doesn't know him, and crucially, he doesn't know her. It's all parasocial, and he dies shortly thereafter. It's not to say something beautiful couldn't grow from this, and I think that's what they're getting at with the Something About Us sequence, but it does feel like mourning what Didn't Happen, and if we're getting started on that we'll be here all day so let us move on.

Speaking of flaws, the movie does drag a little in the third act. Part of this is the Act 2 Climax feeling more fitting for that sort of thing than the actual climax. It is admittedly a little sweet that the plot resolves when immortal conductor guy's plot is discovered and humanity reacts by rightfully pointing out that a crime has been committed, and hasten to help the Interstella gang find their way home, that's not normally how these plots go, but the slight nuance given to the abduction/humans are the villains plot is very heartening. Seeing our blue alien friends seen off as beloved heroes feels very correct, and similarly, their rediscovery of the joy of music and new role as interplanetary ambassadors is one of those "fuck yeah a better world is possible" things that I'll take a million times over more cynical Dark Forest scenarios.

Speaking of drag, though, the Too Long segment, feels a bit like a lengthy coda to the story we don't need, which is, coincidentally what I think about the song's role on the album as well. All the same, it must be said that while the final showdown by immortal conductor's guy in psychedelic FTL space is pretty cool, and while it still doesn't work for me, Guitar Spaceship Guy helping out the Crescendolls one final time from beyond the grave does endear me ever so slightly to that whole subplot.

Interstella 5555 is an interesting watch, it's clearly a project of way more creative freedom than most animated fare is allowed to be, and it's wild that I can say the phrase "it's also exciting that the movie straight out states that Mozart, Ella Fitzgerald and... I believe Flea of Red Hot Chilli Peppers (?) all were sacrificed to Space Satan." This isn't important to the plot at all, but I feel it just needed to be said. So in short, check it out. Among it's many strengths, the soundtrack kicks some serious ass.

[maggiedelusional]

Superstar (Part 1)

Pairing: Rooster x f!reader, (blink and you'll miss it, unrequited) Hangman x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, good ending promise

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 19.7k (holy sh*t)

Summary:  “I’m no one special, just another wide eyed girl, who's desperately in love with you.”

OR 

Rooster is sure he's in love with this girl. Only problem is, he's never seen or face or know her name

No use of y/n

Based of off Superstar (Taylor's version) by Taylor Swift

Author's Note: It's me, Hi. This one shot is so freaking late y'all. In all honesty I started writing this August around the time I finished writing Naked, but life and school happened and now here we are. It felt amazing getting to stretch my writing skills again for anything other than research papers, and I'm on winter break so it seems as good a time as any. I'm not going to give anymore excuses, but I promise this is worth a read. This is the longest single piece of work I have ever written. It ended at 65 pages and almost 20k words in my drafts. Its so long that Tumblr won't let post the entire one shot in one post so im splitting it in two, but dw send part will be posted immediately after this is posted. I also didn't have anyone edit this, so I apologize for any grammatical errors (most likely tense consistency bcs i suck at those) I hope you all enjoy reading it as I did writing it and I hope it tide y'all over until I can write the next chapter of Let Me Go. Here is Superstar.

Bradley Bradshaw’s voice was an enigma to you. How could anyone's voice be so hoarse and yet so strong?

As an air traffic controller for the Navy, you’ve heard every type of voice imaginable. The gruff demanding ones from the Air Boss, the shrill screams of pilots having to eject due to a bird strike, the quiet dulcet tones of a shy WSO, and everything in between. 

The first time you heard his voice through the comms, you weren’t exactly starstruck per se, just a bit thrown off.

“This is Dagger 2, asking for clearance for take off.” 

It’s not like you didn’t know who the pilots flying this mission were. Everyone in the goddamn Navy knew who they were, they were the best of the best. 

You even saw their pictures. And thought some of them were cute (especially the one rocking the Miami Vice Stache). But hearing their voices was different from reading their files.

Though most of the details of the mission were classified, you had a basic idea and knew that there was a good chance that someone wasn’t coming home. 

“This is Dagger 2, asking for clearance for take off”

The voice repeated. You snapped out of your thoughts, the voice was smooth as honey and it had just a hint of fear but yet so heavily determined. Your heart really went out to the poor pilot. 

“Dagger 2, you’re clear for take off.” You said, trying to convey as much sympathy as you could in those words. 

The actual mission itself didn’t last longer than 3 minutes. Working for the navy, you should’ve been used to the high stakes situations that often go hand in hand with these kinds of assignments. But you couldn’t help but sit on the edge of your seat during the duration of the mission.

There were a few initial hiccups, you felt like you were watching a movie as you listened to the daggers communicate with one another. Their nervousness (and to be honest your own) upon seeing the SAMs and your both concern and irritation at Lieutenant Bradshaw’s cautiousness. 

Yes, his by the book and precise flying is part of the reason why he was considered one of the best, but if he didn’t throw that shit out of the window and speed up he will end up getting himself killed. And even though you didn’t necessarily know him, this possibility filled your body with so much dread.

You felt relieved (well only slightly, they hadn’t made it out of the woods just yet) when Rooster finally got out of his own head and sped up. The two miracles were successfully pulled off and the 4 jets had made it past Coffin Corner. Now it was a dogfight all the way home.

You commended just how level headed and pragmatic the pilots were as they evaded the SAMs and attacks that were thrusted upon them. You knew if you were in the same situation you would’ve panicked and blown up by now. Your admiration was interrupted by the mayday call of Captain Mitchell.

A heavy tension set in the control room, everyone was shocked at what just transpired. It was interrupted by the voices of the other daggers. Notably Lieutenant Bradshaw and Lieutenant Trace. 

Phoenix had announced that she and Lieutenant Floyd were heading back to home base, along with Payback and Fanboy. However, you were yet to hear confirmation from Rooster, with the last thing he said went along the lines of going after Maverick. 

You held your breath as you heard Admiral Simpson demanded his return. The control room was met with silence, and you knew exactly what he was going to do. 

It was less than 5 minutes when it was confirmed that Lieutenant Bradshaw’s plane had been shot down after attacking an enemy plane. His beacon went dark. 

Lieutenant Seresin requested clearance for take off but was rebuffed by the Air Boss. You had to take everything in you to not shed a tear.

A thick silence fell over the entire ship. The mission was technically a success but you wouldn’t be able to tell based on the solemn look on everyone’s faces. 

Even after the remaining daggers returned on the ship, no one wanted to leave the control room. The entire ship was at a standstill. 

That was until a beacon marked “Rooster” started beeping on the screen. 

No it couldn’t be.

“Sir, Rooster has gone supersonic.” You told Admiral Simpson with a gulp, trying to contain your hope. 

“An F-14 tomcat has been spotted sir.” Another ATC announced. 

“Maverick.” You heard someone say, not sure who but you did not care at that point. What’s important is that they were alive!

But it was not time to celebrate just yet. Two bogies were spotted alongside the F-14 Tomcat. And everyone knew this meant a dogfight was about to commence. 

The situation looked more and more grim. An ancient F-14 against Fifth Gens? It was unlikely for the two pilots to make it out unscathed yet alone alive.

But by some grace of God (or possibly Maverick’s unbeatable skill, probably both) they managed to take down two bogies. 

Rooster managed to turn on the plane’s radio to contact the ship. You felt relief which was instantly thwarted by the news that there was still one Fifth Gen, directly in front of the plane. 

You knew they needed help. You looked at Admiral Simpson desperately, hoping that he would allow the Reserve Dagger to go assist. But Cyclone seemed frozen and you knew you had to take matters into your own hands.

“Dagger Reserve, are you ready for liftoff?” You spoke into the mic, the other people in the control room looked at you in shock.

“Finally!” The elated voice of Hangman came through the comms.

Admiral Simpson shot you a hard glare, if only looks could kill, you’d probably be as screwed as Maverick and Rooster. But you knew you had to do something. 

“Yes this is Dagger Reserve asking clearance for takeoff.” 

“Dagger Reserve, you are clear for takeoff. Bring our boys home.” You said with a small smile, if you get fired and discharged, possibly thrown into the ocean it’ll be worth it knowing what you did to save the aviators.

Hangman shot down the Fifth Gen with ease, earning him his second confirmed air combat kill. You knew that the other pilots would never hear the end of it. But all you cared about is he saved HIM.

Rooster’s laugh and banter with Hangman might’ve been the most wonderful sound you’ve ever heard. 

Seeing him on the tarmac reunited with the rest of his team had to be one of the highlights of your career with the Navy, if this was the last moment you had in the branch then you were perfectly content. 

“What you did was reckless insubordination! If there was another fifth Gen out there, we would’ve lost 3 of our best pilots and 2 planes worth millions of dollars!” Admiral Simpson had chastised you. 

“I have half a mind to dishonorably discharge you!” You 're ready to accept your punishment with grace. You were however surprised at his next words 

“But your actions saved 2 of our men.” He added with a gulp.

“You are clear from punishment, but DO NOT make this a habit!”

“Yes sir.” You told him with a steady voice.

“Thank you sir.”

“You are dismissed, go join the rest of the fleet.” He told you.

You ran down to celebrate the returning pilots, but so was everyone else. You could only see a glimpse of Captain Mitchell and Lieutenant Bradshaw past the dozens of bodies approaching to greet them. 

But even from where you were standing you could see the beaming smile and bright eyes of the mustached pilot. And from that exact moment you knew you were a goner. 

———————————————————————-

Next time you heard his voice was a few weeks post mission. Apparently he accepted a post to teach at Top Gun. 

You were decently shocked to learn that the team assembled for the mission decided to stay in Miramar. Especially since they basically got their pick of post anywhere in the world. 

But you figured Lieutenant Bradshaw, or rather Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw (remembering his promotion), decided to stay because of his recent reconciliation with Captain Mitchell. 

“This is Rooster asking for clearance for takeoff.” He said through the comms.

“You’re still here?” Shit. You did not mean to say that out loud. 

You heard back a chuckle from the pilot.

“Yes, I decided to stick around Fightertown for a little while.”

“Sorry sir.” You replied grateful that he couldn’t see the blush that was forming on your cheeks. 

“You are clear for takeoff.”

“Thanks sweetheart. Roger that.” You felt your cheeks grow hotter as he took off into the air. 

“ATC you still there?” He asked you once he was at cruising altitude. 

“Yes Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, I am still here.” Hoping that he forgot your earlier words and needed something official. 

“Any reason why you were shocked at my staying?” He asked you.

You gulped at his question. Was this allowed? You’ve never had a pilot ask you a question before that didn’t pertain to instructions, both on the ground and in the air. 

After a breath you answered his question.

“I heard about your promotion, and the offer to be posted anywhere in the world. Just surprised you chose to stay here.”

“Sometimes a family is worth more than any accolade or prestigious post.” He told you. You could tell he really cared about Maverick, but was not sure about the history of that. 

Would asking him be crossing a line?

“Why do you stay in fightertown?” He asks you.

“Not for anything as noble as your reason Lieutenant Commander, just an assigned post.” 

“Well I hope you’re liking Miramar. Actually grew up here.” You were surprised that he was still speaking to you, considering he was in the sky for a reason, and normally pilots didn’t maintain this much conversation with Air Traffic Control.

“I really like it so far, having some trouble with making friends though.” You don’t know why you admitted this to him, especially through comms that other people are definitely listening in to. And especially to a Naval hero who definitely would have no interest in the life of a lowly ATC. 

“Well, consider me your first friend sweetheart.” He responded and he actually sounded genuine. You couldn’t help but smile at the aviator's words.

You were about to respond when you were interrupted by Hangman through the comms. 

“Usually I would encourage this, but you can flirt later, Rooster, we gotta shoot down Mav.”

Your little bubble had been burst as you remembered why you had to clear him for takeoff earlier.

“That’s my cue, talk to you later, friend.”

“Have a good exercise Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw.” You respond with a smile you know he’d never see. 

Your shift ended before they finished their exercise, so you didn’t get to give Rooster clearance to land (or maybe you just hoped to speak to him again). But from what you heard, it was the closest the team got to finally shooting down the infamous Captain. 

You knew that one day they could surpass the pilot, but you were glad that they were able to learn and grow (and stay) a little longer at Top Gun.

In an effort to make more friends you agreed to go out with some of your fellow ATCs that night. Which is how you ended up in a bar on the beach called ‘the Hard Deck’.

Your co-workers were nice enough, and you were honestly glad that you weren’t spending another night with a plate of pad Thai watching yet another crappy Netflix rom-com. 

Imagine your surprise when Rooster and his crew of pilots walked into the very same bar. They went straight to the pool tables and were currently arguing over who got to play first. 

“God definitely has favorites, because they are so fine.” Your co-worker Laura sighs. 

“I wanna climb Seresin like a tree.” She adds.

“I’m more of a Coyote and Payback kind of gal.” Your other co-worker Sara remarked. 

“But I wouldn’t kick Fanboy or Bob out of bed, they look like they know some tricks.” 

She said as she took another drink of her martini. You agreed with their judgements but couldn’t help but only have eyes for one of the pilots.

“Good choice.” Your other co-worker Lia tells you after following your gaze. 

“Bradshaw definitely takes the cake.” 

You blush upon being caught staring at Rooster. 

All your co-workers nodded in agreement with Lia. 

“He’s not as pretty as Hangman but he’s somehow more fuckable.” Laura comments. 

You couldn’t help but feel possessive as the other women also stared at Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw with hungry eyes. 

But it’s not like you had any right to that feeling, he wasn’t yours, he didn’t even know who you were. 

The conversation moved on to other topics, it could’ve been anything from the weather or the latest Naval gossip but you were only half paying attention. You were honestly just glad that they were done ogling a certain pilot. 

You really liked the Hard Deck. It was now clear that it was a Navy spot and it was really cool to see the usually serious people from work loosened up in civilian clothes. 

The night was bustling and while you were glad for some company, you couldn’t help but feel a little awkward. All these women knew each other and had all these little jokes with one another, and you were an outsider that had a bit of a neurotic streak.

You were wondering if this was a pity invite, and you were slowly leaning to a yes but you were already here, might as well make the best of it.

You prepared yourself to jump back into the conversation, when the music from the jukebox had abruptly stopped. And while the men booed, you saw that the women all stopped and stared at the piano. Or rather the person at the piano. 

Lo and behold, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was seated at the decades old instrument, his fingers expertly playing an old Elton John hit. Of course he would have an affinity for the 80s, as shown by his mustache.

If you thought his speaking voice was beautiful, his singing voice was downright heavenly. He had this low tenor that was so strong and made “I’m still standing” sound sensual. How is that even possible?

Obviously you weren’t the only person that thought so, you saw women dancing in front of him, singing along and obviously trying to get his attention. 

For the other women (and some men) that weren’t, were singing along and staring, were all bewitched at the pilot’s skill. And really, who could blame them?

He had this air of confidence that even the cockiest of pilots could never compete with, he was a superstar. In the air and the ground. 

When he (sadly) finished his song, the entire bar cheered and chanted his name. He did a silly dance and seemed to have no care in the world.

You couldn’t help but fall for him a little more. 

——-——————————————————————

“This is Rooster, in the air calling for Air Traffic Control.”

You just started your shift less than 2 minutes ago and did not know that Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was already in the air.

“This is Air Traffic Control, what do you need, Lieutenant Commander?” You ansered, trying to keep your voice calm, hoping your little crush on the aviator wouldn’t show in your voice. 

“It’s you!” Rooster exclaimed.

“I’m not sure what you mean sir?”

“You’re the ATC from the other day? The one that agreed to be my friend.”

A blush crept onto your face, you were surprised he remembered your interaction. 

“Um yes sir.” 

“You got off the comm lines so quickly the other day. I didn’t get to invite you to hang out with me and meet some other new friends at the Hard Deck.” 

Your heart grew warm. He was serious? He wasn’t just trying to be polite?

“I was at the Hard Deck sir. Saw you there with your squadron.”

“Oh shit, really? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Seemed rude to just insert myself, sir.”

“Plus you seemed preoccupied with your adoring fans.” You said with a giggle. 

“It was an amazing performance.”

“Oh yeah? Are you a fan?” You heard him ask, already seeing his smirk in your mind. 

“Oh yeah definitely! Consider me the president of the fan club sir.” You quipped. 

“So what does the role of “president” entail?” 

“You know, make t-shirts, teach the Rooster 101 class, and of course host the weekly meeting where we talk about how hot and talented Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw is.”

“So you think I’m hot?”

Your face grew warm in response, and cursed yourself for accidentally flirting nonsensically. And prayed to whatever higher power that no one was currently listening to the comm line. 

“Oh um-.” You began to respond.

“No! Sir-…um I just…”

“You know it’s frowned upon to lie to your superiors.” He said in a serious tone.

“Oh no I’m so sorry sir, I didn’t mean to-“

“ATC….”He interrupts, with an inflection at the end of the last letter 

“Yes I think you’re hot Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw” You confessed with a gulp.

He let out a hearty chuckle.

You were completely mortified and you don’t think your face has ever been this hot before. If you thought you didn’t have a chance before, more so now. You were debating whether you should disconnect now and go back to your job (I mean this is technically your job, but not the flirting part). 

You were broken out of your inner debate by Rooster

“Thanks sweetheart.”

“You know you don’t have to keep calling me Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw right?”

“You can call me Rooster.”

You were thankful for the subject change. 

“Okay Lieutenant Comma-“

“Sorry, okay….Rooster.”

“Now that’s better.” He said with a slight laugh, you could already see his dazzling smile now.

“How about you ATC? What should I call you?”

“Oh you can call me-“ you began to say.

“This is Lieutenant Finch asking for clearance for takeoff.” You were cut off by the comm.

You sighed, back to real life. 

“I’m sorry Rooster, I got to go back to duty.”

You cut off the comm lines before he could respond.

————————————————————————

Next time you saw him, he was walking down a hallway with Lieutenant Commander Trace by his side. He was talking so animatedly, his hands waving around as he delivered his point.

It sounded like he was gushing about a tail spin maneuver that Maverick pulled off, and god he’s so beautiful. When he speaks it’s like you couldn’t help but listen. Hell! you bet a reading of the F-18 NATOPS would sound like absolute sin coming from his mouth. 

You were so caught up in his voice that you didn’t notice how close you were to passing him.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat as your shoulders brushed against his as you walked in the opposite direction. Even through your thick khakis, you can feel how muscular his shoulders were. Damn this man works out.

“Oops sorry ma’am” he stopped and turned to you. His eyes were concerned that he hurt you from a measly bump. This man could not be real.

“I didn't mean to bump you. And as put together as I seem to be, I am actually a huge klutz and a hazard to pretty girls.” He said with a chuckle and a wink.

You tried to respond to him, but only a squeak managed to leave your mouth. Starstruck that he’s speaking to you for the first time, not through a comm line. 

Wait and he called you pretty! You were now fighting a blush creeping on your cheeks. But to the two aviators it looked like you were not amused 

“Stop bothering her Rooster, she obviously has places to be.” Phoenix chastises him.

“I apologize for my bothersome friend.” She turned to say to you. And all your pathetic shy ass can do is nod.

“See you around! And sorry again!” Rooster says once more as Lieutenant Trace pulls him away and down the hallway. 

———————————-—————————————

Okay, you were not doing this on purpose, well sorta. Sometimes in the midst of your constant daydreaming, your subconscious kinda just takes the reins and dictates your actions. 

Which is how you found yourself coincidentally choosing a work schedule that lined up the most perfectly with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s flying times.

You hoped for another conversation with Rooster, hoping to redeem yourself from your words (or rather lack thereof) during the hallway debacle.

 But the Lieutenant Commander seemed very focused on the exercise that they’ve been working on for the past week and has not been speaking to you as much as of late.

You were of course sad, and you felt a pit in your stomach grow larger and larger each passing day that your conversations started and ended with “you’re cleared for takeoff”.

You almost wish that your stupid infatuation would go away so that you didn’t feel yourself crushed at the end of every single work day. 

But you would catch a glimpse of his smile on the tarmac and your heart would fill with so much longing once again. 

It had been almost a week since your last true interaction with the aviator, you were beyond pathetic at this point. 

At last, he finally called in after he was in the sky. 

“Is the president of my fan club there?” He called into the comms. 

Was he talking about you? I mean who else would he be talking about considering the topic of your conversation last time. 

Unless he talks to all the ATCs like this, flirting with them until they become flustered and red as a tomato. He’s probably done this with Sara, or Laura or even both! The thought filled your stomach with dread. Should you stay silent and pretend you didn’t hear him? Or maybe he actually needs something, it would be unprofessional of you to not help your superior or maybe-

“I know you’re there, I can hear you thinking”  

Rooster has a habit of breaking you out of your anxiety induced thoughts.

“Are you calling for me Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw?”

You heard him clear his throat, expectant.

“Oh I’m sorry, Rooster.” You corrected yourself.

“That’s better” He said with a chuckle. 

“Sorry I’ve been radio silent the past week sweetheart, have had a lot on my mind.” 

“You don’t have to apologize to me! You’re one of the greatest pilots in the world, no need to worry about me.” You assured him, and maybe you were a bit self-deprecating but it was true. 

“No need for all of that ATC, I’m just a guy in a plane. And were friends, remember?  It’s not fair of me to leave you in the dark.” 

Damn. AND he's humble? How can this man be anymore perfect?

“ Thank you Rooster.” You replied with a small smile.

“Sorry again for going ghost, this is a bit of a hard week for me” He continued.

In any normal circumstance, asking for elaboration would seem like prying, but your conversations with the Lieutenant commander have been less than normal as of late. You still had no clue where you got the courage to ask.

“Oh, why is that?”

“Wanna know all my secrets already sweetheart?” 

He somehow managed to avoid the question AND make you flustered. He’s good.

“How about I let you know my stories over dinner?”

You just felt your heart jump out of your chest and into another dimension. There’s no way THE Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was asking you out. 

This had to be some kind of game, one that he’s no doubt played a million times before. Rooster had no shortage of women who wanted him and the fact that he’s asking you out of all people was unbelievable. There was no way. 

“Um like a date?” You ask him nervously.

He chuckles at your response, amused at your edginess. But to you it sounded like the thunderclap before the lightning strike of rejection. 

You just wished he’d get on with it. Hoping he lets you down easy so you can move on from this crush and actually do your job.

“What else would I mean?” He finally responded.

Your entire body felt like a cracked glow stick. You felt bright and overheated, but also cold as ice as you’ve somehow lost feeling in your extremities.

So he was asking you out! You were determined to apologize for every time you’ve said God’s name in vain because if Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw was asking you on a date, then there is no doubt that the higher power was real. 

But the reality of the situation had set in. If he was this quick to ask you out despite not knowing your name, or what you look like. What’s stopping him from changing his mind and moving on to the next ATC or bartender or crossing guard who gave him admiring attention just as quickly?

You came to a swift realization.

It was against your nature and your better judgment, as your heart was beating out the seams to say yes to Rooster’s invitation. But you had to be smart about this.

You had to play the game.

“I’m gonna have to say no sir.”  

You can feel the regret setting in already.

“Wow, I think that’s the first no I’ve gotten in…. That might be the first no I’ve ever gotten.”

Great, now you’ve bruised his ego, you had no idea if this tactic was working for or against you.

“Well, I think dinner might be a little further down the line, that’s if you think you can handle it?” You somehow gathered enough courage to (fake) confidently challenge Rooster.

“Oh is that so?” You can hear the intrigue in his voice through the line. 

“How about a phone number?” He offers amused

“Hmm… maybe THAT  I can agree with.” You responded matching his playful tone.

“In one condition.” 

“Oh yeah? And what is that sweetheart?” 

“Shoot down Maverick in the drill today.”

“Is that it? I can do that, easy.” There was the cockiness the top gun pilots were famous for.

“That’s funny, considering you haven’t been able to do it in the past 3 weeks.” You jested.

“Ouch, first you reject my invitation, and now you insult my skill? Way to kick a man while he’s already down sweetheart.” He grimaced playfully.

“Gotta give you some kind of challenge sir.” You couldn't hold back the giggle forming in your throat. 

“Okay deal, anything to hear that laugh again, outside of these comm lines.” He chuckled.

Oh shit. You completely forgot that you are flirting with Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw though a military operated and very public comm line.

“I was wondering when the two of were going to remember the rest of us can hear EVERYTHING.” You heard the voice of Lieutenant Commander Seresin chortle.

You felt your ears burn red in embarrassment. 

“Getting rejected over comms Bradley? And here I thought you had game.” Captain Mitchell added. Both of them were laughing at their fellow aviator. 

“See what I mean sweetheart? I promise I’m a much better conversationalist when these assholes aren’t around.” Bradley insulted the other two pilots. 

“Don’t listen to him ATC, I’ve known him since he was still in diapers , and I promise you, this is as good as he’s gonna get.” Captain Mitchell remarked to you. 

“Don’t think I’m gonna go easy on him for you either.” He added jokingly. 

“Trust me Captain Mitchell, I’m counting on it.” You replied with equal fervor. Maverick responded with a playful tone.

“Sounds good ma’am, hope I don’t disappoint .”

“I’m going to get into position, You two can join me once Bradley is done with his disastrous flirting.” He added before going radio silent, lifting his jet to prepare for the dogfight. 

“Hypothetically, if I shoot down Mav, do I get your number?” Hangman teased. 

“Walk the walk first, and maybe I’ll consider it.” You quipped, but you knew that the only aviator you’d want to give your number to was Rooster. 

“Good enough for me.” Hangman replied. 

“Watch me beat you Rooster, in the drill and with the girl.” Hangman chuckled playfully before going radio silent, presumably getting into position.

“Double timing me with Hangman sweetheart? Now thats a killing blow.” Rooster smiled, slightly annoyed at your flirtatious exchange with Seresin but happy that it was just the two of you once again. 

“You know how bumptious Lieutenant Commander Seresin can be. I just said it to get rid of him.” You explained. 

“Now for you, I am completely serious. Shoot down Mav and you got yourself a phone number.”

“Yours right?” He asked.

You let out a hearty laugh, one that had caused the other ATC’s currently in the control tower to look at you with concerned expressions. 

“Yes. Mine.”

“You never know, you could very well give me Admiral Bates’ number. I just wanted to make sure.” He replied.

“Plus its always a bonus to hear you laugh.”

This man never seemed to run out of lines. You had to hold yourself back from melting into a puddle in your seat.

“Well lets see what you got then Lieutenant Commander.” Was the last thing you said as he finally went back up to position. 

As much as you wanted to stay tuned into the dogfight like you were a suburban dad cheering on their favorite football team, you did actually have a job to do. 

You were in the middle of analyzing flight patterns and putting together a presentation for your co-workers when you heard the sudden call on your headset.

“Hello, this is air traffic control.”

You were greeted with a loud thunderous cheer. 

“I did it ATC! I shot down Mav.” Rooster howled.

“Is this true Lieutenant Commander Seresin?” You asked Hangman.

“As much as I tried to sabotage him, yes Rooster did somehow managed to shoot down the old-timer.” Hangman confirmed with a groan.

Shit. Now you have to actually give your number to Rooster.

“Soooo ATC, I’m waiting for the magic numbers.” You could already see the victory smirk on his face. 

“Ughhh fine a deal is a deal. But I am not going to give out my private phone number on a monitored line. I’m just gonna have to get it to you another way.”

“Okay fair enough. How are you gonna do that?” Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw queried. 

“Don’t worry about it, just know you’ll get it.”

“Or you know you can just give it to me face to fa-.”

“Goodbye Rooster.” You interrupted and dropped the line before he could continue. 

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

You honestly did not know how you were going to get your number to Rooster. You wouldn’t dare to see him face to face. He’ll take one look at you and know that you were nothing special and he’d lose interest. The only reason he was this enthralled was because you were a mystery to him. 

You could always go back on your deal and tell him you were kidding about the number, but you knew that was an asshole move and you were not the type to break agreements. You had to figure out how to get that number to him without him seeing you. 

At least then you can speak to him and possibly flirt with him for a little longer before he inevitably loses interest..

You were sat in the comm tower, your head resting on the back of your hand, watching Rooster joke around with Mav and Hangman down in the tarmac beside their F-18s. Even from all the way up here you can see how bright his smile was. He was so beautiful. 

You were snapped out of your admiration by the three aviators walking off the tarmac, probably to rest and sit with the other pilots in the hangar. You saw your window of opportunity, in the form of (no pun intended) Rooster’s open canopy on his jet. 

If you could sneak down there and place a piece of paper with your number on his dash then you would have fulfilled your side of the deal. 

If anyone were to ask, you were not a stalker, you were just very observant, especially if you’ve been watching these pilots for the better part of the last few weeks and knew that they were going to spend at least the next 15 minutes in the hangar until they returned to the tarmac. You had to make your move NOW.

You scribbled your number onto a piece of discarded paper.

“I’m taking a 10!” You announced to the control room before running out clutching the note to your chest. 

You quickly ran down from the tower and quickly onto the tarmac, making sure to duck and turn your head away as you passed the hangar (just in case). 

You couldn’t remember the last time you ran this fast, probably not since basic training. You quickly manuevered around all the F-18s until you reached the one marked with the label LCDR Bradley Bradshaw “Rooster”. You’ve never seen his jet this up close, you wanted desperately to run your hand through the marking of his name, to touch something that he has. 

No. You have to remember you’re here on a time-constrained mission, and you had to get out of here not only  before the pilots come out, but also before anyone in the comm tower can spot you down here. 

You quickly flung yourself up the ladder up to cockpit of the jet and trying to place the piece of paper as rapidly and as gently as you could on the dash. When you finally let go of the paper and saw that it was securely in place, you hopped off the tiny ass ladder and started to speed walk back to the direction of the comm tower. 

Your heart was beating a million times per minute and you did it without anyone seeing you. You could see the door to the tower in the distance, and were beelining towards it. That’s until you heard a clear 

“HEY!” Coming from behind you. 

You turned around and were greeted by the suspect face of Lieutenant Commander Seresin. He was standing probably a good 25 feet away and slowly walking towards you.

“Who are you? What are doing down here?” 

You had to think of an excuse fast, with as little words spoken as possible. You couldn’t risk him recognizing your voice and telling Rooster. Then all of this would be over too soon. 

“Just routine inspection!” You tell him, making your voice higher and hopefully indiscernible from your normal speaking voice. 

“Goodbye!” You waved at him before sprinting away and around the tower so he couldn’t see that you were going into the comm room. 

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

As much as you'd like to think that you successfully made it down and back from the tarmac completely undetected, you knew that running into Hangman could’ve ended disastrously. You needed to learn to be more careful especially now that your number could possibly already be in Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw’s possession. Which means you have to commit to this game. 

You put your number in his plane almost 11 hours ago and even though the work day has long ended, and you knew that the pilots leave together at around 5pm and would inevitably end up at the Hard Deck for a few hours. 

However it is now nearing 11pm and you still had no notification from anyone other than your mom. No texts, no calls, just email alerts and a few instagram DMs from some old high school friends. 

You sighed as you stared at the clock. Maybe he didn’t see the paper? Or he’s still at the Hard Deck?

You knew neither was unlikely because the dagger squad flew out and ran a few more drills later in the day so was in his jet and all the Navy men (or rather the disciplined ones) promptly left the bar at 10pm to prepare for their early work days. 

He could’ve and should’ve contacted you by now.

But what did you really expect? That he was going to drop everything and call a random ATC that he had a few indecorous conversations with. 

You definitely let this fake confidence build up too much in your head. You had to remember your place. Because who are you other than just a girl, when he was one of the superstar’s of the Navy? The frontliner and the apple of all the admirals’ eyes. 

You see the clock flashing 11:15pm and you had a shift early in the morning. There was no use continuing to feel sorry for yourself. Some sleep would do you some good, and hopefully avoid the waterworks that would inevitably come.

You were well on your way to slipping into a deep slumber when you heard the loud text tone originating from your phone. 

Unknown Number: Sorry I didn’t get to talk to you today sweetheart. I hope I get the chance soon. Sweet dreams :) 

——————-————————————————————————

There must have been some sickness barreling through the base because the normally filled comm room was empty except for you manning the main desk. 

Being solo wasn’t too bad, as there weren’t too many pilots scheduled to fly today.

Of course one of them being Rooster. 

“Miramar Tower, F/A-18E Super Hornet , 10 southwest at 2,500, inbound for landing “ 

Speak of the devil, and he shall come

“F/A-18E Super Hornet , Miramar Tower, report entering left downwind Runway 24R.” You responded, keeping yourself professional despite feeling the butterflies in your stomach beating your ass upon hearing his voice.

“Report entering left downwind, F/A-18E Super Hornet . . . . “ He responded before adding

“F/A-18E Super Hornet entering left downwind Runway 24R.”

He was all business today, with absolutely no hint of the usual playfulness in his voice. 

“Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, you are cleared to land Runway 24R.”

He let out a slight growl, one you would miss if you weren’t listening so intently.

He hesitated for a moment before finally responding. 

“Cleared to land Runway 24R, F/A-18E Super Hornet “ 

You saw his jet successfully land and reached for the button to disconnect when you heard Rooster’s voice flood your headphones once again.

“Do you remember what I said about calling me ‘Lieutenant Commander’ sweetheart?” He asks steely.

Fuck, he sounds so sexy when he’s stern. No man’s voice has ever had this effect on you. 

“Yes sir, Rooster.” You said with a longing breath.

You curse yourself for being incapable of being subtle.

“Normally I would say no ‘sir’ just ‘Rooster’, but I’ll allow it. Only because it sounds so good coming from your mouth.”

Holy shit. And you thought you weren’t subtle, you were usually clueless when it came to men flirting but even you could read that loud and clear. 

“You sure you want to be hitting on me over comms SIR?” you said purring 

“Would you rather me come up there sweetheart? So I can do it face-to-face” He said with the same gruffness. You can see him glancing up to the tower as he lifted his canopy and exited his plane.

“I dare you Lieutenant Commander.” You replied matching his salacious tone. 

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson don’t I?.” The connection cuts off as he removes his helmet and rushes up to the tower. 

You couldn’t hear anything over the sound of your pounding heartbeat, there is no way you just invited Rooster up to the comm room. 

It couldn’t have been more than 2 minutes when you heard the door burst open and saw Rooster enter, his skin still glistening from sweating under the California sun. 

He looked like a Greek god, and you had to stop your jaw from physically dropping at the sight of him. 

“Finally done hiding from me sweetheart?” He greeted you teasingly. 

You slowly approached one another. You opened your mouth to respond with a flirty response but the words seemed to be stuck in your throat. 

You didn’t even notice how close you were to him. You could feel the heat radiating off his body. You were staring straight ahead and avoiding his gaze. Choosing to maintain eye contact with the lowered zipper of his flight suit. Giving you a glimpse of the hard planes of his chest underneath. 

Your breath hitched as you felt him grab you by the waist and pull you bodies together. His hands felt so hot on your body and you still couldn’t bring yourself to look up into his gaze.

That is until he placed a hand on your chin and gently pulled it up to look into your eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you’re all shy now sweetheart?” He said with a smirk and he tugged your bodies closer. 

“Where’s all that talk from earlier?” He whispered as he kissed the skin beneath your ear, before moving his lips to your jaw and leaving soft caressing kisses trailing down your jaw, down to where your neck meets your collarbone

Okay, you have definitely lost the ability to breathe, let alone to speak several moments ago. If he wasn’t currently holding you so tightly your legs would’ve given out from under you.

All you could feel was him and all your mind can think of is Rooster. Rooster. Rooster. 

He finally brought his head back up and stared at your lips. He licked his before he finally closed the distance between you and-

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

You woke up in your bed in a cold sweat. 

Holy shit, it was just a dream. It felt so real. 

You could’ve sworn you could still feel his hand gripping on your waist and his hot breath on your ear. 

You glanced at your alarm clock to see that you overslept by 30 minutes! 

You quickly got up and got ready, you swear to God you had never gotten ready faster in your life. But you still managed to be 15 minutes late. 

Your supervisor was not happy. But you were normally punctual so they allowed you this one oversight. As long as you swore to never repeat it again. 

You finally caught your breath and settled in your station. You were relieved that you didn’t miss too much. 

But since you were late Rooster was assigned to a different ATC on his flight plan for the day. 

This did make you sad but in a way maybe it was necessary for today. 

First because you could not possibly hold a conversation with him after the erotic dream that you still hadn't physically recovered from, and second because you were actually becoming pathetic.

You had set 4 simple rules for yourself when you joined the Navy

Stay Focused

Always be punctual

Sleep early to be well rested, and most importantly

Do not get involved with Navy men. 

You somehow managed to break all rules in the last few weeks. 

You had a wet dream that caused you to break your perfect punctuality streak. A dream that was about a certain pilot that caused you to stay up late and has spent the better part of a month distracting you.

For the lack of better phrasing, you really needed to get your shit together.

But when you stepped into the mess hall after a fairly productive half of a day, and saw his face, you remembered just why you were so enamored. 

A smile from him was worth breaking the rules you set for yourself. 

——————————————————————————————-

You were probably home for less than 10 minutes when you heard the text notification coming from the living room.

You wiped your hands on a dish rag and walked out of the kitchen to grab your phone, which you almost dropped upon seeing who the text came from. 

The text last night was completely unexpected and was definitely part of the reason why Rooster somehow made it into your dream. And even though you were half asleep at the time, you managed to save his number under “Rooster ✈️🐔”. 

Which is how you knew you were staring at a text from said aviator. 

Rooster ✈️🐔: Missed you today :(

You have been carefully analyzing the text for the last 30 seconds you laid eyes on it. He missed you??? What does that mean? He had your number for the better part of two days and he only managed to contact you when you were almost asleep, and after a day of ignoring him. 

Asking him what he meant would be too obvious and would make you come out as naïve. So you did what any rational woman with a crush would do. Deflect.

You: Do you have a problem with emojis or something?

Rooster ✈️🐔: Huh? What do you mean? 

You: I can’t remember the last time I saw someone use emoticons unironically. 

Rooster ✈️🐔: Are you making fun of me? I personally think emoticons are neat

Rooster ✈️🐔: And I don’t know how to download emojis :/

You felt like a schoolgirl as you felt your face break into a grin at his antics. 

You were formulating a reply when you were interrupted by the screen indicating an incoming call from Rooster ✈️🐔.

You stared at your phone in panic and let it continue to ring. Holy shit he was calling you. At least in text you can formulate a plan and have a carefully crafted response. You did not have that luxury with a voice call. 

But what are you going to do? Ignore it? 

You had to make a decision fast. Okay yes, it will be a little more nerve wracking to speak on a voice call but that's better than nothing right? And you spoke to him all the time over comms, even though technically it is different because those conversations can be hidden under the guise of carrying out your job and you did not have that safety net in this situation.

After a few seconds you thought “Fuck it” and pressed the green button. 

“Hi” You answered with a breath. 

“Oh thank god, you actually answered” He responded, teasing relief in his voice.

“What? You thought I wouldn’t?” You asked him as if it was the most outlandish thing in the world (even you were seriously debating it less than a minute ago). 

“Well lets look at the track record, you rejected my dinner invite, doubted my skill as a world class pilot, left me on read last night, and just made fun of my emoticons.”

“The signs were all pointing there.” 

You bursted out in laughter at his rantings.

“Wow! And now you’re laughing at my misery, a man just can’t win with you can they sweetheart?” He feigned hurt. 

“I’m sorry Lieutenant Commander, I didn’t realize it was so easy to hurt your feelings.” You teased him. 

“AND were back to Lieutenant Commander? You do not pull your punches, do you?”

“I’d like to think we’re past all those formalities, outside of work please call me Rooster, or rather yet, call me Bradley.” He asserted. 

“Sometimes I forget your full god given name is Bradley Bradshaw. Brad Brad. I’m making that your name on my phone” You continued to tease with a giggle.

“Did your parents know what they were subjecting you to?” 

“Ha Ha very funny, unfortunately they were the main ones who made the Brad Brad joke.” He admitted dejected. 

This caused you to laugh again.

“Hey this is not fair! I don’t even know your name to make fun of.” You could practically hear the pout in his voice.

“You know I’m gonna find out your name eventually sweetheart, so why don’t you just give it up now?”

“But where’s the fun in that?”

You wanted to finally tell him your name, you did. But that just opens a can of worms that would lead to reality, which you were not yet ready to face.

“I can’t call you ATC forever sweetheart..”

“Well.. what do you want to call me?” 

“Preferably your name?” He suggested.

“You only get one chance to choose so try again.” You warned. 

“And make it good”

“Okay fine I’ll bite.” He finally gave in.

“Lets see, what to call you….”

“Well you laugh a lot, and most of the time at me, so I think I want to use something related to that.”

“It’s not my fault you’re so easy to make fun of.” You quipped.

“Fair enough. Just know I only let you because I actually like the sound of your laugh.”

You felt the blush creep onto your cheeks again.

“Clock is ticking, and you’re wasting your time flirting. What is it gonna be?” You goaded him.

“Okay Okay, but don’t think I won’t continue later.”

“I have no doubt about it” 

“So something pertaining laughing…hmmm. Giggles?” 

“If you call me Giggles, I’m hanging up and blocking you.” You threaten him. 

He responded with his own laugh, and god if you didn’t love his as much as he claimed to like yours.

“Chuckles?”

“I prefered Giggles.” You grimaced

“Merry?” 

“Too Christmas-y”

“Chirpy?”

“That sounds like a name for a bird or something you’d call your grandma. How are you so bad at this?”

“I’m trying!”

“Try to pick something better than all of those please, and do it in the next 30 seconds or I revoke your naming permissions.”

“Fine…Okay! I got it!”

“Cloud!” 

“Cloud?” You asked

“Yes! Like flying on Cloud 9!”

His selection brought a smile to your face. You pretended to think on it.

“It’s acceptable.”

“Yes!” 

“See? I’m not completely useless, and it fits because I’m flying on Cloud 9 whenever I know you’re my ATC.”

His admission caused your breath to catch in your throat. He really did know how to make a girl feel special, even though you knew you had no actual chance with him in the real world.

“I bet you say that to all the ATCs.”

“Well they are responsible for making sure that I don’t crash into other planes on the runway. Gotta keep them happy somehow”

You laugh at his joke, but holding some sadness because even though he was joking, in a way it felt like it held some truth. 

“But seriously, you have no idea how much joy you brought me yesterday. Both with our conversation and seeing that you actually gave me your number. Which is why I was really sad that you weren’t my ATC today.” 

He sounded sincere, but you tried to keep yourself from taking his lines to heart. 

You smiled. 

“Speaking of your number, how the hell did you get that piece of paper into my dash?”

“There was no one else I saw near my jet except my squad and they were with me the entire time. When did you manage to do it?”

“A girl doesn’t reveal her secrets Rooster.” You jested

“Speaking of secrets, pray tell why it took you over twelve hours to use it?” You asked him, you had to know.

“Yeah, sorry about that late text sweetheart… I stayed out at the Hard Deck with Mav a little later than usual. It was my dad’s death anniversary and I honestly spent most of the day sulking and dreading leaving my apartment.”

“Oh.. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You responded sympathetically, now feeling guilty at asking such an intrusive question. 

“No worries sweetheart, the minute I heard your voice on comms, it brightened my day, even more so when you gave me your number.”

“So thank you for the boost and the motivation to finally kick Mav’s ass in the sky.”

Your heart felt warm hearing that you had that effect on him, you woul’ve believed his words if you didn’t know better.

“You’re welcome Bradley.” You finally called him by his real first name, admittedly it felt right coming from your mouth.

You both sat in comfortable silence when you were interrupted by the smoke alarm in your kitchen. It hit you that your dinner was left on the stove forgetten during your conversation with Bradley.

“Oh shit, I’m pretty sure I just burnt my dinner. I gotta go before I set my entire apartment on fire.”

Bradley chuckled at your unintentional lapse of memory.

“Okay sweetheart I’ll talk to you soon.”

You ended the call. 

You managed to clear out the smoke out of your apartment, but unfortunately did not save your chicken. 

You had to settle for a frozen hot pocket that had been in your freezer for God know how long, but hey it did the job and beggars can’t be choosers. 

You felt the tiredness from the busy workday hit you and you decided it was a good idea to turn in early. You showered and finished your nighttime routine and settled into your bed with your phone on your nightstand.

Your phone flashed once again to signal a text. Apparently, Rooster had the same idea about an early night. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Goodnight Cloud <3 I’ll talk to you tomorrow

You: Goodnight Bradley :)

——————————————————————————————-

You were honestly pleasantly surprised at how consistently you and Bradley communicated. 

It followed the same schedule. During the days, you were usually his ATC so he would of course flirt with you over comms, and you’d try to maintain come decorum of professionalism, but would eventually flirt black. Persistence is key and Bradley is nothing if not persistent. 

When he wasn’t in the air during work hours he would sneakily text you his little random thoughts he had during the day. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Have you ever noticed how small Hangman’s mouth is?

You: What?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: No seriously look at it. His mouth is always scrunched up even when he smiles.

You: Why are you staring at Hangman’s mouth?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: We’ve been stuck in this meeting and he keeps chewing that stupid toothpick, its distracting.

You: Didn’t realize you had a thing for Seresin, Brad Brad? 🤔

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: ???????

You: You just said his mouth is distracting

You: Its okay Rooster, just say you wanna kiss him, the tension between you is so thick you can cut it with a knife.

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: I don’t want to kiss Hangman >:( 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: You wanna know who I do wanna kiss though? 

You: Let me guess…..

You: Bob! 

You: Or better yet, Cyclone 🤪

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: No :(((

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: I wanna kiss you

You: Let’s Play 8 Ball!

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Ha ha you’re hilarious

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: If I beat you then can I get a kiss?

Read 2:13pm

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Ouch :(

On weekday nights where he didn’t go to the Hard Deck, you would have your nightly phone call at 7:30pm sharp where you would both stay on the phone while you both cooked dinner. You would catch up on the little things during the day that you didn’t text about and just mostly got to know one another.

You can admit that yes, what initially drew you to Rooster was his beautiful smile and his skill as a pilot. But the more you spoke to him the more you saw not just Lieutenant Commander “Rooster” Bradshaw. But you also saw Bradley.

You quickly saw that he was kind, humble, and so caring of others. 

“Hey Cloud,  I’m sorry for calling you so late.” You noticed his tone was more solemn than usual and checked the time, it was nearing 8pm.

“It’s fine Bradley, you’re not that late.”

“What’s wrong?” You asked him.

“Payback and Fanboy flew into a jetwash today….”

“They had to eject.” He answered dejectedly

“I heard about that. Are they okay?”

 Laura told you about the incident a little earlier, she was the ATC for the flight. The ear-splitting static that hit her headset after the aircraft collided with the ground was enough to shake even the most experienced ATC. So you couldn’t imagine being the pilot and the WSO in that situation. 

“They’re at the hospital overnight for observation. I stuck around to make sure they were okay.” 

It was very strange for you to hear Rooster so despondent. You knew he cared about his friends, and he would do anything for them, but it felt like there was more to the situation. 

“You’re very thoughtful for that Bradley.. I’m sure they appreciated it”

“It was my fault, Cloud.” he confessed. 

You were taken aback at his admittance, but you would’ve heard if there was someone that was directly responsible for the accident, it involved aircraft worth millions of dollars after all. 

“They flew into my jetwash.” 

“Bradley, that wasn’t your fault, you couldn’t have controlled their flight path.” You tried to reassure him.

“But I shouldn’t have been so reckless!” He exclaimed. 

“If I wasn’t so busy trying to outdo Coyote, I wouldn’t have almost hit a bird strike and had to slow down, and they wouldn't have gotten caught in the wash.”

You didn’t want to tell him he was being irrational for blaming himself for a situation that was clearly out of his hands, you knew there was something more there. 

“But they’re fine right? Everyone is okay. No one was seriously hurt.” You explained to him.

“Yeah no one got hurt….THIS time.” 

His statement piqued your interest, you were getting somewhere.

“What do you mean?” 

He sighed, finally letting go of the pretenses. 

“That’s how my dad died.” He confessed.

In a way you knew about LTJG Nick Bradshaw and his untimely death during his Top Gun training, but none of the sordid details. It felt disrespectful to dig into Rooster’s family without him knowing. 

“Oh..” You couldn’t think of what to say. 

“He and Mav flew into a jetwash and when they ejected…my dad hit his head on the canopy. Dead on impact.”

You kicked yourself for thinking he was being irrational. Now all his self blame and his aversion to throwing caution to the wind while flying finally made sense. It also made his relationship with Maverick a lot clearer to you. 

On one hand, you were thrilled that he was confiding in you. But on the other hand you were also heartbroken for Bradley, he lost his dad so young and as much as you wanted to hug him, and let him cry on your shoulder, you couldn’t. 

“Were you close?” You settled on asking him. 

“We were, he’s the reason why I worked so hard to be where I am now.” He reminisced. 

“I’m sure he is very proud of you Bradley. You are not only an incredible pilot, you are also an selfless, caring, and incredible man.” You reminded him. 

“He would give all the credit to my mom.” He lightly chuckled. 

“She raised me alone after my dad died.”

“She never remarried?” You asked

“No, she said that dad was her soulmate. She would never find another man like him.”

You can tell how much love Bradley had for his parents, and the love they shared for one another. 

“It sounds like they were really in love.” You smiled 

“They were. My dad would always serenade my mom. He loved the 50s and the 60s so everytime he saw a piano he would wail out ‘Great Balls of Fire’ while my mom would act embarrassed, but she would eventually sit on his lap and sing along.” 

“That’s beautiful Brad, they really were soulmates.”

“I hope I can find a love like theirs someday.” You sighed dreamily. 

“Who knows? Maybe you already have.” He responds softly.

A comfortable silence settled between you for a few moments. 

“Hey Cloud”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for listening.”

“Anytime Bradley.”

You noticed that it was now getting late and exhaustion was starting to take over your body.

Bradley seemed to notice this as well.

“Do you think I can sing to you Cloud? Like my dad used to with my mom?” 

“I would love that Brad.” 

You slowly fell asleep to the sound of his voice singing ‘Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’.

And like that, there was no denying, that you’re falling even deeper.

——————————————————————————————-

You don’t know how much longer you can keep this up. It has been months since you and Rooster started talking regularly and you couldn’t help falling in love with him a little more everyday. 

The problem is, you knew that his patience was wearing thin, as he was asking you more and more frequently when he can see you face to face or even know your real name.

You knew you owe him all of that, but how could you tell him? When you know in your heart that once he sees you and knows you. He would know you weren’t worth his time. 

That realization kills you because he means everything to you. You’ve shared your hobbies, your stories, your dreams with him. 

How can you go on living without him in your life once you know the feeling of him being there. 

He has planted himself a permanent spot in your heart, and once he’s gone, there will be a gaping hole left in his wake. 

He was being as kind and as patient with you as he could, but you couldn’t blame his growing anxiety about your identity. 

It also didn’t help that you were constantly under the scrutinous eyes of Lieutenant Commander Seresin. After he caught you on the Tarmac, he seemed very suspicious of you. Like he knew you were up to something but just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

Luckily you’ve been able to fly under the radar around him. Yes he could be a little ignorant and too much of a flirt for his own good but he was smart as a whip and you knew that if anyone could figure out what you were doing it would be him. 

You were currently sat with ATCs in the mess hall, on the other side of the room from where the dagger squad has decided to congregate. You were trying to subtly sneak glances at Bradley. 

He looked particularly handsome today, his sandy hair was slicked back and his tanned skin glowing. He even had his signature Ray Ban Caravans on. You normally hate when people wear sunglasses indoors but he made it work without looking like an asshole. And it looks damn good on him. 

You sighed and as you moved your focus away to not arouse suspicion you noticed Hangman look at you with narrowed eyes. You pretended not to notice. 

Your attention was diverted by the vibration of you phone signaling a notification. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Is potato salad supposed to be green?

You smiled when you saw it was a text from Bradley

You: Depends, do you normally eat 2 week old potato salad?

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Mav said it was okay :(

You: Mav also thinks anything not cooked in a microwave is gourmet.

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Okay fair, its going into the trash. 

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: You know what is gourmet though? ;)

You: Mav

Brad Brad ✈️🐔: Not funny :(

You tried to hold in your laughter to no avail and it was loud enough for the other ATC s to look at you in confusion. 

“Sorry, just saw a funny meme.” You explained, the ATCs accepted this explanation and went back to their previous activities. 

You looked up again to catch another glimpse at Rooster when you saw Hangman staring at your phone in your hand with wide eyes. Then looked down at Rooster also smiling down at his own phone, and then back at you. 

You could see the wheels in his head turning, and then he made a face that made it clear that he connected the dots. 

Oh shit. You had to get out of here.

You quickly packed up your food and sat up, not bothering to say goodbye to your fellow ATCs. 

You ran out the mess hall and down the hallway but before you could turn the corner a hand pulls you back. 

You are now face to face with Lieutenant Commander Seresin. He looked at you for a few seconds 

“You’re Air Traffic Control right?” he asked you with a raised eyebrow. 

“Yes sir I am.” You said trying to disguise your voice the same as you did on the tarmac. 

“Don’t play games with me honey, I know that’s not your real voice.” You gulped 

He still had a grip on your arm so you couldn’t run even if you wanted to. Curse these Navy men and their workout routines. 

“Tell me your name, and that’s an order.” 

You were sweating under his gaze, you’ve never felt more panicked in your life.

You tell him your name in your real voice. 

He finally released his grip on you and also seemed to drop his serious demeanor. 

“I knew there was something about you! You’re the ATC that old chicken has been flirting with over comms aren’t you??”

You nod looking down at your feet. Damn it, there goes your whole relationship (if you can even call it that) with Rooster, because Hangman is definitely going to rat you out. 

“You see, Rooster was telling the squad that he was in love. And so of course we ask him who she is.” 

“But how surprising was it when he said that not only has he never seen her face to face, he doesn’t even know her name.” 

He was now pacing up and down the hallway. 

“Then I remembered that day where he bet you your number if he shot down Mav, he magically got a piece of paper with a number on his dash seemingly coming from nowhere.” 

“But it wasn’t a magic trick at all, was it?” He asked you rhetorically.

“No sir.”

“Exactly! Because I caught you sneaking off the Tarmac moments before Rooster jumped into his plane and happily announcing that he got your phone number.” 

“I saw your face, so you are both the ATC over comms and the girl he talks to,  the one he says he’s in love with.”

You looked up shocked at his statement.

“He’s in love with me?” 

You looked up from the ground with hopeful eyes. 

“Yes he is.” Hangman tells you matter of factly. 

“You’ve presumably been talking to Rooster for months, but you've yet to meet him in person, let alone even tell him your name.”

“What game are you playing here?” He asks you

“It’s not a game, I do care about Bradley.” You sighed. 

“So then what is it?” 

“Sir, can we not please talk about it here?” 

You anxiously look around and see that people were now in the hallway exiting from the mess hall. And god forbid that Bradley was one of them. 

“Fine.” 

“Meet me at the Hard Deck after work.” 

——————————————————————————————-

 You were seated at the bar in the Hard Deck, your left leg bouncing anxiously.

You checked your watch, 5:47pm. Hangman said to meet him here right after work and you basically sped off the base to get to the bar on time.

You’ve been nursing the same beer for the past almost 30 minutes. You couldn’t focus on anything but the sound of your heart beating in your chest.

What was taking him so long? Did he forget? Did he already tell Bradley?

A million more questions swirled in your head. But you knew that if Hangman didn’t show up you were basically screwed.

Your self pity was interrupted by the booming sound of naval aviators strolling through the entrance, with one of them being Bradley and of course Hangman.

You were simultaneously trying to avoid Rooster’s gaze, while trying to catch Hangman’s attention.

When you finally caught his eye, you gave him a panicked questioning look. He gave you a subtle nod while continuing his conversation with the rest of the squadron. 

The crew made their way to their usual spot in the back with the pool tables. Hangman excused himself from the group nodding towards you.

You kept your eyes on him as he made his way to you. 

“Jimmy, can I get a beer?” Hangman asks the bartender.

“Lieutenant Commander.” You greeted him as he sat on the stool directly beside you.

He returned the greeting by saying your name.

“So let’s just get this out of the way. Did you tell Bradley?” You asked him, feeling a large brick settle in your stomach. 

“You can relax.. I didn’t tell Bradshaw.” He replies

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Relief flooding your body.

“But don’t think that you’re off the hook, you have some explaining to do.” Hangman added.

“What do you want to know sir?” You swallowed nervously.

“First of all, who are you exactly?” 

“I’m no one, I’m just an ATC.” You told him, looking down at your hands.

“Well you’re clearly not ‘no one’ if you’ve caught Rooster’s attention.” He rebutted.

“You’re little avoidance tricks might work on Rooster, but they won’t work on me.”

“And I know all your excuses for not meeting him are complete bs.”

“So why are you hiding from him?”

Now that’s the million dollar question isn’t it? It has been months since you started talking to Bradley, you spoke to him every single day, and fell asleep to the sound of his voice every night. Why were you hiding from him?

“I-.....I don’t know.” You confessed to Hangman. 

“Then whats stopping me from getting up and telling Rooster who you are?” Hangman asked you with a raised eyebrow. 

You stared at him, the words lost in your throat. 

“Nothing then I guess..”  He got up and started his way to the back.

You pulled his arm back similar to how he did to you earlier that day. He looked at you and your hand on his arm. 

“Please don’t…I beg you.” 

He sat back down on his stool giving you a questioning look but gave you the time to get your thoughts together. 

“I never intended for it to go on this long or this far..” You explained. 

“Bradley is so important to me. I knew he was special the first time I ever heard his voice.”

“It was during the uranium plant detachment from a few months ago. I risked my whole damn career to save him.” 

“I released the dagger reserve without Admiral Simpson’s approval.” You continued.

“That was you? You gave me clearance that day?” His eyes finally lost the skepticism and was replaced with admiration. 

“I did, everyone in that control room was completely frozen. I couldn’t just let them die.” 

“But that doesn’t explain this whole situation you have going on with him.” He questioned

“That was the last I expected to ever see of him, but you all decided to stay here in Miramar and I made the mistake of speaking to him a little too long over comms.”

“That’s to be expected honey, Rooster is a big ol flirt.” Hangman chuckled.

“Well not as a big of a flirt as me though.” He winked at you. 

He was trying to ease your worries and you appreciated that from him. Especially since he thought the worst of you less than 10 minutes ago. 

“And of course you and Mav have heard how he got my number over comms and thats currently where we are now.” You finished.

“Okay so thats the backstory, and you clearly care about him and he cares about you.”

“So it still doesn't answer why you haven’t told him who you are.”

“Think about it this way Lieutenant Commander…”

“You, Phoenix, Payback, Coyote, and Rooster. You are some of the most important and most revered people in the Navy short of the Admirals.” 

“You are the first in command, you are the best of the best in the entire world.” 

“What do I? A low level ATC, have to offer Bradley?.”

“I am just me, and he is who he is. I could never be a person whos good enough for him.” 

“But didn’t I just tell you? Bradshaw is in love with you.” Hangman argued. 

You smiled sadly, turning your head to glance at Bradley at the pool tables. His head thrown back in laughter at something Fanboy said. 

“Maybe..he is.” You turned back to Hangman.

“But one look at me and he’ll change his mind.” 

“I don’t understand. Do you think you’re-” Hangman’s response was interrupted by Rooster popping up behind you both. 

“Hangman, I thought you were getting a beer?” 

You suddenly felt lightheaded, the sight of Rooster standing so close to you making your heart beat a million times per minute. 

“Whos your friend?” Rooster asked Hangman while looking at you with a smile. 

You wouldn’t dare open your mouth and speak, risking Bradley recognizing your voice. You stared at Hangman with pleading eyes, hoping he didn’t give you away to Rooster.

Hangman looked at Rooster and back at you, pausing for a moment.

Hangman finally speaks telling Rooster your name. Fuck. You were naïve to think he’d keep your secret.

“We actually just met, she’s getting over a case of laryngitis so her voice is a little hoarse.” Hangman explained. 

You smiled at him, silently thanking him for not revealing your charade. 

“Hi, nice to meet you.” You let out in a hoarse voice, turning to look at Bradley.

He reached out and shook your hand and you can feel your stomach doing backflips for finally getting to touch the man that you’ve spent several months falling in love with. 

“Well I’m sorry to hear that ma’am, I hope you feel better.” Bradley offered politely.

“I’ll leave you and Hangman to your conversation.” He excused himself and returned to the pool table, you stared at him longingly as he walked away. 

Hangman looked at you in amusement. 

“You got it bad, don’t you honey?” Hangman asked with a slight chuckle. 

“That obvious?” You asked him

“Couldn’t be any less subtle if you tried.” 

“Which makes it so funny that Bradshaw had no clue its you.” He chortled. 

“Me personally, if I were him, I would know it was you the minute I saw you.” He added with a smirk,

Leave it to Hangman to be an insatiable flirt.

“Thank you for helping me out.” 

As big of an asshole Hangman can be, he really did have a good heart. 

“Your secret is safe with me honey.” 

——————————————————————————————-

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[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Steve Brodner

* * * *

Kamala Harris “turns it up to 11.”

October 17, 2024

Robert B. Hubbell

I admired Kamala Harris greatly before she sat for an interview with scoundrel Brett Baier on Fox News on Wednesday. But after watching her humiliate Brett Baier and Fox News during a hostile interview, my admiration for her has gone “all the way up to 11.” She knocked it out of the park! Immediately after the interview, Fox’s own analyst proclaimed that Harris was “fairly effective . . . especially when she was going after Donald Trump.”

You can say that again! So, I will. Kamala Harris was especially effective when going after Donald Trump.

CNN’s Brian Stelter noted that Harris demolished the Fox talking point that she was incapable of standing up to tough questioning. Stelter said,

This was one of the most adversarial interviews Kamala Harris has probably ever done. A lot of viewers are going to come away saying, “Wow, she's willing to do that. That's a sign of toughness and strength.”

In a must-watch segment of the interview, Harris addressed Trump's threat to go after “the enemy within”—referring to Americans Trump considers to be his political opponents. Brett Baier tried to challenge Harris’s comments by playing a video clip that Baier claimed disproved Harris’s allegation. Baier then played the clip, which contained no references to “the enemy within” and included seemingly conciliatory statements by Trump. (It turns out that Baier had selectively edited out references in Trump's answer to “the enemy within.” Baier’s deceit merits a public reprimand by his superiors.)

Kamala Harris immediately challenged the authenticity of the videotape, saying that it did not fairly represent Trump's comments. Harris also told Baier that he knew the videotape did not represent what Trump had said. She then laid waste to Trump's hateful rhetoric and ugly threats. Watch this clip through the 3:00 minute mark: CNN, Harris takes on Fox News during heated interview.

Before turning to Baier’s deception, let’s acknowledge that Kamala Harris was able to tell Fox viewers that Trump views fellow Americans as “the enemy” and has threatened to use the US military against political opponents. Point, set, and match to Harris!

To see the unedited video that Brett Baier deceptively edited, watch this video clip through the first 65 seconds—which is the portion that Baier omitted: WSJ News, Trump Doubles Down on ‘Enemy From Within’ Comments About Democrats

Except for a brief introductory period, Brett Baier treated Kamala Harris rudely and with condescension. He repeatedly interrupted her in a way that he would never have interrupted Trump. Despite Baier’s overtly argumentative approach, Kamala Harris was able to deliver substantive answers regarding policy and deliver stinging rebukes to Trump. Notable answers include those set forth below, with the video links for each answer.

[I apologize for linking to video embedded in tweets, but Fox has made it difficult to link to jump cites in the full-length interview.]

Speaking of Trump, Kamala Harris said: “Trump’s Chief of Staff, his  Defense Secretaries, his National Security Adviser, and his Vice President are all saying that he is unfit to serve, he is unstable, and he is dangerous. People are exhausted with someone who professes to be a leader who spends full time demeaning and engaging in personal grievances.”

Baier asks Harris if she thinks Trump supporters are “stupid” for supporting Trump. Harris responds, “I would never say that about the American people. If you listen to Donald Trump’s rallies, he's the one who demeans and belittles the American people. He's the one who talks about an ‘enemy within,’ and suggests he would turn the military on the American people.”

On immigration addresses immigration, Harris says Within hours of taking the oath, we introduced a bill to fix our broken immigration system. It was not taken up –[Brett Baier interrupts]--May I finish responding to you? I supported a bill by some of the most conservative members of Congress to actually strengthen the border. It would have put 1,500 more border agents at the border. It would have allowed us to stem the flow of fentanyl coming into the United States. Donald Trump told them to kill it because he prefers to run on a problem instead of fixing a problem. Americans want a president who's not playing political games

There is more but the above excerpts show a strong Kamala Harris besting a hostile and dishonest interviewer intent on advancing right-wing talking points. Harris’s performance should finally put to rest the whining from journalists who dismiss every Harris interview as “not good enough” to satisfy the pundit industrial complex.

The commanding performance by Kamala Harris contrasts sharply with the made-for-tv infomercial that Fox conducted earlier in the day for Trump. The so-called “town hall” to address “women’s issues” was played out before an audience filled with political operatives for the GOP. See CNN, Fox News did not disclose its all-women town hall with Trump was packed with his supporters and was edited to remove some of their vocal advocacy of Trump.

Even with a friendly crowd selected by the Trump campaign, Trump made ludicrous statements that underscored his increasing disconnect from reality. See Talking Points Memo, No, Trump Is Not The ‘Father Of IVF’.

Per TPM,

Despite the friendly audience, Trump fumbled around as he answered their questions in weird and sexists ways — at one point painting himself as the “father of IVF” while admitting he just learned what the procedure was this year when the “fantastically attractive” Sen. Katie Britt (R-AL) explained it to him. Here’s what the former president said in response to a question about his support for the procedure: [Britt] called me up like, “Emergency! Emergency!” Because an Alabama judge had ruled that the IVF clinics were illegal and they have to be closed down. A judge ruled. And she said, “Friends of mine came up to me, and they were — oh, they were so angry!” I didn’t even know they were going, you know, they were — it’s fertilization. I didn’t know they were even involved in, nobody talks about — they don’t talk about it. But now that they can’t do it — she said, “I was attacked. In a certain way, I was attacked.” And I said, “Explain IVF very quickly.” And within about two minutes, I understood it. I said, “No, no. We’re totally in favor of IVF.” “I want to talk about IVF. I’m the father of IVF!

It is staggering that Trump claims to be “the father of IVF” when he didn’t even know what it was until a year ago.

Trump also appears to have crashed and burned in his Univision townhall, but I can’t get access to live links yet. I will address tomorrow.

[Robert B. Hubbell Newsletter]

[omegothic]

opinion on ffxv after 75 hours of playing (and one hour of running in circles to level gladio's skill up) (still haven't played any of the dlcs but i'm gonna take a break or something for a few days because i severely neglected my university stuff and spent most of the last week obsessively playing this game)

i love this game. am i tired? hell yeah. would i want all these hours back? hell no.

the game is a mystery to me.

the sidequests are genshin impact open world quests level (which means that if i hear anyone talking, i'm pressing the skip button because i don't give a fuck). you listen to someone yapping about unimportant stuff and they make you collect the same shit over and over again. peak game design.

the main quests are good but the ending made me age 10 years in a week. there's NO NEED for these tragedies. boy you literally have the power of gods on your side and they tell you the only way to get rid of the big bad villain is to kill yourself? sounds like bullshit to me. also why even bother if there's only a few thousands people left in the world. you already lost, all this stuff had to be done 10 years ago to have any meaning. and there's no way the world didn't just implode or something when the sun stopped rising. the true ending is noctis getting spat out of the crystal and realising everyone is long gone because there's no sunlight.

the mentally ill hobo could have been more cooperative too geez. i'll be honest i like him much more than the six. and everyone's like "oh gods are helping you" no they hate me and want me to die for no reason. i'd rather join forces with ardyn and try to take them down. even if he did a lot of questionable stuff (cough- killed my bride -cough-cough- and her brother -cough- also kidnapped my friend and tortured him-)

the hunts are kinda fun when it's a big monster but when it's a bunch of goblins i'm like,,, why did you call me here? ngl i thought all hunts would be like the first one, it was truly cool. there was some kind of plot, some interactions with my friends, some stealth, the monster seemed really tough (meanwhile me, fighting the lvl 99 adamantoise 65 hours later: the ring of lucii go brrr-)

the dungeons are ass. i thought nothing could be as disorienting as daggerfall's randomly generated dungeons but they really managed to do a miracle with ffxv. although the dungeons in ffxv are not scary at all, that's the difference.

the open world is okay. there're some interesting places (when you first see the big mysterious creature in the lake you're like do i have to fight it?? can i get closer to it?? what is this??) and the nature is beautiful. altissia looks majestic but sadly there's not much to do. i appreciate the hard work tho.

using regalia was a delight. when you want to take a break and just look at the landscape you can just sit still with a controller in your hands and enjoy the ride. really therapeutic. don't drive at night when you're low level though... listen to ignis. ignis is always right.

the camp life is by far the best out of all games i've had an experience with. there's so many little details everywhere that you cannot help but adore your companions. it's the way every time you make camp you get a bunch of photos prompto took since the last break. it's the way your companions talk to you almost all the time and you truly feel like you are on a road trip with your friends. it's the way gladio calls you out on your bullshit and afterwards you want to bite his head off each time you talk to him. it's the way ignis cooks for the entire party and makes you help him sometimes. i just love the way friendship is portrayed here.

what was not as good is luna and noct's relationship. there was not enough of luna. yes she loves noct but why? yes noct loves luna but why? luna literally appeared in the plot for two minutes and then tragically died. i think it's really bad. also imagine not seeing your bride for 12 years, when you finally meet her again she immediately dies, then you spend 10 years trapped in a crystal, fucking die and then get to marry your bride. honey it's been 22 years since i last talked to you in person. i'm NOT marrying a random woman in the afterlife (no hate for luna, just this love story didn't seem convincing enough). hopefully i'm gonna see what they wrote in the dawn of the future soon (please pray so that my amazon package doesn't get lost 🙏)

the music is incredible. the woman who wrote the soundtrack is my goddess and i am a devout worshipper 🙏🙏🙏

so, why is the game a mystery to me? because no other game could make me endure 75 hours of boring side quests. i managed to play hogwarts legacy for 44 hours and i despised that game when i finished it. i despised it long before i finished it. but not ffxv. they could make me do all this boring stuff again and i would do it (not for free tho because i've got better things to do with my time 🤣)

i enjoyed ffxv a lot. it also made me depressed for a week because ending a game like that should be a crime. i think i'm gonna do a few last quests after that but there's not much left (and i'm not looking for more because if i think i am done then i am done). not sure how long episodes gladiolus, prompto and ignis are gonna take, but they're also in my plans (no ardyn tho, gotta go watch some playthrough). there's also anime and a film so plenty of content for me. and i am waiting for the arrival of my book 🫡

(noticed that there's nothing about the combat. well it's because i don't care. i don't like combat. i don't like it in any game. i prefer to flee)