#holy shit i'm posting writing everyone take a picture | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

soundspeachytome · 4 months

Text

7 minutes in heaven - shohei ohtani au

summary: Y/N snoops around famous football player Shohei Ohtani’s locker in search for a scandal against his clean record but ends up in one herself.

tropes: friends with benefits, friends to lovers(?)

tw: *slight* smut, mentions of sex, oral (f receiving)

word count: 30,033K words (i'm SO sorry in advance holy shit)

hi! it's been a while. when i made this account, i vowed to write at least once a week but it had been so difficult this month juggling work, my chronic migraines, and seasonal depression (lol).

please note i did not proofread this so plsssss i apologize for grammar mistakes and inconsistencies!!

posting this on the last day of 2023, hoping to give everyone a good read before we welcome the new year. so thankful for this small space to try, linger and reset all over again. hope you had a very merry holidays with your loved ones.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

==================================

Locker Lockdown

At around thirty minutes past four in the afternoon, I skimmed the clubhouse for any signs of life. It was only the quiet that prevailed. Clear.

I tiptoed my way towards the player locker room. I only had around ten minutes to locate the correct locker and take whatever I could find. Discovering the locker area to be empty and unguarded, I felt a surge of excitement.

Six years later, I couldn’t get my big break and decided sports journalism could catapult me into somewhere big in the industry. This is my last chance to prove myself, otherwise I’d have to reconsider going back home and write Hallmark greeting card messages again.

Shohei Ohtani’s jersey number is the number 17. Lucky bastard, after all these years and even after going through free agency, he got to keep his famous number, even at the cost of having their senior player give it up for him when he joined the football team.

And here you might be wondering why I’m doing this aside from my sheer desperation to get an official spot in the workplace and not eat scraps of topics editors discarded for themselves.

Some people are privileged to a fault.

And I hate seeing him on TV. Or on social media. Or his Colgate-white smile plastered all over my favorite beer and skincare brands.

Some would say this is the TMZ tabloid level of writing. I say this is investigative journalism. Find out if the famous favorite son-in-law has any flaws of his own and wrap around a bowtie of hidden horrors of sports documentaries.

And where else can we find this but in the athlete hotpot: their locker room.

I found Shohei’s locker right away as it was the tidiest locker among all on display, with nothing but brand-sponsored clothing hung neatly on the rack. He also donned the top shelf with some dog-eared self-help titles and vitamin bottles. While the rest of the athletes have pictures of their girlfriends, wives and their kids, Shohei has an unreleased polaroid selfie with his dog, Dekopin, just right beside his perfume bottles. Dekopin was looking away, captured in mid-yawn, with his ears raised, and Shohei, smiling into the camera with pursed lips and a snapback on.

I got so immersed into reading the ingredients of his vitamin bottles, trying to find anything remotely related to steroids, or any form of illegal bodily enhancements, that I didn’t notice footsteps from outside the hall.

“What are you doing here?” a voice loomed behind me and I dropped the diet supplement bottle in panic.

Only the sound of the bottle rattling could be heard as I locked eyes with Shohei Ohtani, tall and all muscular. His hair was sweaty and unkempt and his eyes held mild anger and confusion. After the bottle stopped rolling and settled somewhere on the floor between us, there was only silence and the cold sweat building up at my back.

I swallowed hard. I planned everything from studying the stadium’s entrance and exit doors but I didn’t plan on bumping into him. Not like this. Not when I’m at the lowest level of the social hierarchy right now.

I could only be ashamed.

Brain still befuddled at the thought of getting caught, I urged my limbs and picked up the vitamin bottle and returned it back to Shohei’s locker. The plan was not to respond at all and run as fast as I could before the rest of his team arrived. That was the only way to keep whatever dignity I have left.

“I said, what are you doing here?” He caught my arm mid-exit and pulled me back, tightening his grip.

“Let go of me.” I struggled to keep my balance and the way my voice wavered was no help at all.

Shohei saw the camera slung over my shoulder and looked back at me, realization hitting him.

“Y/N, are you a sports journalist now? And were you looking through my stuff?” he said, sounding almost disappointed.

“That’s none of your business. Let go of me.” I kept my voice steady but his grip only tightened. The sides of my eyes slowly formed tears.

“What tabloid media do you work for? I should report you. Would you like that? What a shame you’ll be banned from all the games now, right? You nasty journalists just won’t keep your noses away from my business.” he took my camera and deleted all the photos I took of the contents of his locker. I tried to leap for it but he was obviously inches taller than I was and I was no match for that.

“I don’t write tabloid news. If I was, my name would have been all over TV by now.” I grabbed the camera from him and sighed morosely at the lost media. A day’s work is all lost.

“My boss gave me a green light to do a documentary about the team. And the star player.” I wiggled my fingers in front of him, as if to emphasize the word “star” in front of him.

“I came here assuming you and the other players would be here for an interview but no one was around yet. So I hung around a bit and took interest in your nutritional supplements.” Lie after lie after lie. I gritted my teeth and faked a smile. The most convincing lie I’ve learned on almost all my failed dates and relationships was to stroke a man’s ego and have him talk about all the things he is interested in, making him divert his attention to something else.

“You’ve got really good, um, vitamins for muscle recovery there. Maybe that’s why you got so big and strong, right?.” He looked at me dubiously, nodding responsively to be polite. If he took the bait, then he is obviously just like any other guy I’ve ever met.

“I mean, I guess? I’ve been doing deadlifts so–”

Approaching footsteps and faint voices were heard from the hall. Shohei pushed me toward the opposite end of the hall, where the showers were located.

“Wha–” I started but was shut up when he pushed me further into the back of the shower room, swiping the doors closed.

“Shut up if you don’t want to be caught.” He growled and I recoiled back into the tiled corner. On top of me was the almost rusting shower head who had seen better days, and two bottle pumps for shampoo and body wash.

Voices and conversations were starting to fill in the locker room that was empty only a few seconds ago. The voices of men echoed through the shower rooms. You could hear the sound of water turning on from neighboring shower stalls, laughter and tired conversation in the locker area. We were surrounded.

Shohei could be heard laughing with his mates while blocking the door to the shower room I was hiding in.

“Are you using that, Sho? I could use a hot shower right now.” one of his teammates said.

“Uh, no, I was just about to use this room, sorry.” he said, almost hesitating. After a few seconds, he entered the shower room and started undressing.

I widened my eyes and shot him daggers. When he unhooked his shirt from his armholes, I was rendered speechless.

He had the body sculpted by the gods with his wide shoulders and large pecs that glinted under the light. How could someone look handsome and beautiful at the same time?

So when Shohei reached for the waist belt of his pants down, I didn’t know why I had choked on a silent scream. I looked away, embarrassed to have reacted like an inexperienced teenager. I have seen and have been with naked men before. This should be nothing new to me and my level. Or so I thought.

I stole a glance at Shohei, who was slowly walking towards me (or to the showerhead, where I stood under, obviously) in only his boxers on, gazing at me in wild amusement.

We were almost inches apart from each other, foreheads almost touching, breaths almost converging, if you may. If I stand on my tiptoes, I would be almost at his eye-level and I could peck him on the lips if I wanted to.

If I wanted to.

“Sorry, but I need to shower or someone else will try to take this stall.” His voice broke my salacious thoughts. He looked at me and turned the shower on.

“Are you serious?”

“Yes, I’m supposed to. Aren’t I? I just got off practice and I stink.” He said almost sarcastically.

“So I’m supposed to just watch you bathe and hope I get out here alive?” Water slowly dripped into my shirt, soaking my chest and exposing a bit of my underwear.

“If you didn’t sneak in here, we wouldn’t have this problem.” He concluded and pursed his lips, not looking at me.

“Shohei? You okay? You sound like you’re talking to someone.” a familiar voice floated into the shower room.

“It was a video on my phone that I forgot to pause, Ippei-san.” Shohei’s face turned red but recovered quickly, glaring at me.

“Oh, well then, I thought you finally had a girl in there. I was wrong.” Ippei laughed.

Shohei started lathering body wash on his body at the slowest pace possible. His hands glided through his chest, stomach, and into the dick he’s restraining inside his boxers. Simply having this view had me almost whimpering. If it had been another day, I would have obviously enjoyed this, having a sexy man bathe in front of me, because who wouldn’t? But under my circumstances, I’m only fairly annoyed at being a flustered, hot mess and I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Oh, fuck, now you got me wet.” I blurted a little loudly as the water splashed and got into my socks.

Shohei’s widened and panicked eyes shot at me.

In between those short seconds, Shohei was able to respond quicker than my brain could. He had faked a laugh and said loudly, “Well, that’s awkward, the video keeps on playing on its own. Let me turn my phone off instead.” gaining laughter from outside the shower area and then reaching for the small of my neck and closed whatever space was seen between us.

Based on what I had learned in self-defense training, my initial bodily reaction should have been this: If someone is coming at you from the front, a groin kick may deliver enough force to paralyze your attacker, making your escape possible. 1. Stabilize yourself as best you can. 2. Lift your dominant leg off the ground and begin to drive your knee upward. 3. Extend your dominant leg, drive hips forward, slightly lean back, and kick forcefully, making contact between your lower shin or ball of your foot and the attacker’s groin area.

Instead, when his lips touched mine, I felt my arms throw around his neck and pulled him closer. They say we’re all beggars for something, and this indulgence I had let myself be greedy for.

When his lips reached mine, I parted like the Red Sea almost immediately, welcoming him and everything that he could offer: the taste of his tongue on my mouth, the smell of honey orange and apricot from his body wash seeping through my nose as I peppered kisses on his chest, and his obviously hard dick grinding against my stomach. When I palmed him, he managed a low growl and caught my wrists.

“Not here.” he groaned.

I pushed my head back inquiringly, both of us breathing too hard.

“I have no condom,” he tucked a wet strand of hair behind my ear. Under the dim bathroom light, I could see his face and chest were flushed. “Next time?”

“Well, usually when two old friends meet after a fall out in college, they just catch up and have coffee.” I said.

He laughed and said quietly, “Okay, so I owe you.”

“The coffee or the protected sex?”

“Uh, it could go a lot of ways.” Before he could say more, I palmed him through his boxer shorts and looked up at him, trying to find his limit.

Shohei bit his own lip and tugged the roots of my hair in a bundle, pulling and tugging from the pleasure. To keep himself from making such ungodly hot sounds, he pushed his tongue down my throat and thrusted his hips back and forth against my hand.

As if to make it even, he unclasped my bra and sucked on my already soaked breasts, a satisfied groan slipped from me. We both pulled and pushed and sucked and kissed each other in the crevices the shower splatters couldn’t reach, silencing the moans before it could escape us.

In that brief and elating moment, while we muted the noise from unsuspecting people, we smothered each other’s groans and reached our highs in the quietest, most pleasurable way possible.

=========================================

7 minutes of heaven

It’s strange how I always find myself in the most ridiculous situations.

The next few occasions that I’d meet Shohei would be wordless and timed interactions in enclosed spaces. We’d see each other in public and pretend we didn’t know each other but slip each other notes of the next place we’d secretly meet. It all felt strangely exhilarating to keep a secret like a fifteen year old would, with all the sneaking and running.

We’ve explored almost every nook and cranny of the stadium, discovering hidden spots of our rendezvous. We’d meet up in a different bathroom and he’d push me on my back while he fucks me repeatedly on the bathroom sink. Pre-game preps meant I gave him blowjobs in his manager’s office hours and hours before everyone even arrived.

Of course, when we ran out of places to hide, we’d go as far as looking for the next empty parking lot and tried to fuck each other noiselessly.

“So when can I take you out for dinner?” he had asked one day, when he dragged me out to meet with him around after midnight. I wouldn’t let him inside my apartment and I refused to do the deed in his either, so he’d bring me to places that only us knew, to fuck, to kiss, sometimes to talk, but more often, to drive each other’s pleasure and only that.

Because god forbid we both catch feelings and lose the fun, right?

So no talking, no sharing of personal details, no anything.

We were in an empty parking lot, away from the lampposts and streetlights. Shohei had made sure that we were well hidden in the dark.

He had his legs spread while sitting on the driver’s seat. His hands, warm and wide, rested on my hips and thighs, lightly urging me to ride him slowly.

Soft RNB music played on the stereo, it was a quiet, still night. It was both our day off so he had wanted us to chill and take the sex slowly.

Slow meant gazing at each other’s eyes–gaze, not look–with endearment or adoration, not lust or pleasure. Slow meant thinking the unthinkable thoughts. Slow meant being vulnerable while coming undone.

And I don’t want the slow and quiet moments. I wanted the fast and rough with no time to talk, gaze or even think, just one hundred percent fun and debauchery.

“Mmm. Maybe when you show me your photos,” I avoided the question but I also knew Shohei would never show me the photos he had taken–past and present. Even when we had been buddies for an entire semester, he had, not once, shown me his portfolio.

“So probably never, right?” he gazed up at me with his creamy brown eyes, hands caressing my stomach lightly.

“Probably,” I muttered and with that he had gripped my thighs tightly and moved his hips upwards to meet me. I moaned when he hit me in the right spots. Any sign of softness he had shown a few moments ago was gone, and only the roughness and unsettling disconnection remained.

This particularly fine day, I would be standing at the mercy of his mouth. He had dragged me to an empty storage room in the east wing of the stadium, hours after practice. According to him, the area stands the exact opposite from the lockers so most people hardly come by. How he had found out about this, I had no idea.

He was kneeling in between me, my right leg hooked on his shoulder, giving him more access and my hands tugged at the strands of his hair every time he licked my sensitive clit.

Shohei’s tongue grazing against me had left me quivering in delight. He stands up and kisses me, giving me a taste. My fingers started unbuckling his belt when he felt his phone vibrate.

“Oops, Ippei’s looking for me.” He pockets his phone, looking forlorn, as if telling me he didn’t really want to go yet. “See you again next time?”

“Yours or mine?” I had asked, brushing up and straightening my wrinkled dress. And when I realized what I had done, Shohei’s eyes shot up and he beamed widely.

“I just– I- I want a proper night with sex, you know.” I explained, trying to sound nonchalant. “It’s so uncomfortable having to go commando at work after you had just literally sucked the life out of my vagina, Sho.”

“Mmm-hmm.” He smiled even more.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“What? Fuck off.” By this time, my face felt hot and had probably looked red like a tomato, which probably amused Shohei even more.

“Your place, then. I’ll call you.” he gives me one last kiss then heads out first, leaving me a dazed and pulsating mess.

A shrill sound knocked me awake. It felt like seven thousand screaming hungry babies in my ear, bouncing off around my brain like a pinball.

I looked at the digital clock on the bedside table and saw the time glinting behind the glass: 8:41 PM. I must've fallen asleep after taking a half day off from work, feeling nauseous and slightly feverish. It seemed that whatever body malaise that I have been carrying inside me earlier had sprung into a full-blown ailment.

I pushed my body up and walked groggily to the source of my misery.

Someone was buzzing the doorbell and repeatedly pounding on the door. Great.

“If you’re not dead or dying behind this door, you’re about to be.” I croaked harshly, throat burning; putting all my remaining energy in pulling the door open. I was greeted by an extremely tall man with frantic brown eyes, searching my face.

“Oh, thank fucking god. I’ve been knocking for half an hour.” he wrapped me in a tight hug, I almost collapsed. Partly because of the throbbing headache and overall discomfort that I already felt, but hugely because of the warm minty scent of Shohei Ohtani.

“Jesus, you’re burning up!”

“What are you doing here?” I said, struggling in his grip, his face resting on the curve of my neck. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“You don’t text someone ‘at least i’ll die happy today knowing that my last meal was shoyu ramen’ and then not fucking reply after.” We were still standing by the entrance, his face now angled towards me, a look of concern or anger mixed in his face, I couldn’t tell. My cerebral cortex functions seemed to have shut down after witnessing this unexpected tenderness.

“Medicine knocked me down cold.” I shrugged weakly.

Shohei pulled me into the bedroom and tucked me back in, apologizing for his intrusion, putting down plastic bags of what seemed to be groceries on the kitchen counter, and went back to lightly scolding me for proper texting etiquette to family and friends, to anyone really. That my dark humor doesn’t translate well in messages and that I could have really died and people would think I’m joking but really, he got so scared that he went here as fast as he could.

I don’t remember much but in between fever dreams and my ibuprofen haze, I faintly remember the savory taste of rice porridge exploding in my mouth, the constant dabbing of a cold towel on my face, neck and chest, sometimes, my back, too; the smell of rubbing alcohol and a large, gentle, almost loving touch.

I don’t remember much but in between waking up in the darkness and stone-cold silence, I remember soft forehead kisses until I drifted back to sleep; of big strong arms enclosing me into a big embrace, as if to tell me, you can put your guard down now. you are safe here.

I don’t remember much from coming in and out of slumber, but I remember thinking: wouldn’t it be nice if this wasn’t a dream?

======================================

Reset

In the end, I quit sports media on my own volition and got into a friend’s ceramics house. I have always had a thing for ceramics and sculpting as early as college, where I had met my then-professor and now friend–who happens to be the owner of mentioned ceramics house. She had always praised me and encouraged me to join her when she first opened the shop, but as someone who had musings for writing at the time, I politely declined and pursued, you guessed it, journalism.

I’ve always been good at writing, no doubt, from the way professors always had a good word for me, but I always seem to get into the wrong places every time. Time moves fast if you’re a journo, if you’re slow, then the news is rehashed news, it would just be a late-night recap at a midnight slot that no one is ever awake to watch.

Here, inside her shop, it was quiet, and time moved slowly. I can get into my laziest clothes and no one bats an eye. I can finally retire my stilettos and straight cut blazers.

It was all so going well. The customers were always mid-twenties who got interested in our social media marketing of creating your own mugs and other ceramics and always came in in groups, duos, and solos.

Slowly, I realized that not everyone gets to the places they want. Even when you work blood and sweat for it. Not all were built like, say, Shohei Ohtani, whose talent was recognized early and afforded him an automatic slot in the big leagues.

Some are born to be big icons and some, like the rest of us, are meant for smaller, softer spaces. I get that now. It finally felt like I was in the right place and pace.

All this positivity and good timing felt all too good to be true and been proven accurate when the scandal blew up.

Shohei Ohtani photographed exiting his LA apartment with a woman in his arms.

Shohei Ohtani’s rumored girlfriend receives backlash from fans: READ MORE

EXCLUSIVE: More photographs of Shohei Ohtani and rumored girlfriend driving away in his Porsche

Rumored girlfriend of Shohei Ohtani: Who is She?

When I say it was everywhere, I meant it exploded right in front of our faces like a million confetti, falling and twirling fast. It was unstoppable. It was inevitable.

I felt my limbs go numb when I read the morning news. There in bold and black letters was the headline, my name and a clear photo of me holding Shohei’s arm, smiling. A certain news outlet had gotten juice of us and our secret hideouts and had spread all over social media like wildfire. You know what’s funnier? The media outlet that released this was my previous employer. The same company that asked me to snuff out a controversy. While I had failed to give them the news they wanted, I had unintentionally brought them an exclusive that wrote my entire name–and face–off the map and potentially ruined Shohei Ohtani’s clean record.

Shohei Ohtani, despite his happy-go-lucky and passive demeanor, was a very serious and straight-laced person. I already knew this in university but I got to see more of this side of him when we had started the fucking thing. Even though I had clearly told him that I didn’t want any strings attached, it was unavoidable to give and receive bits and pieces of each other when we’re not naked.

I did enjoy talking to Shohei under the sheets. His ingenious ideas and the way he talked about the things he adored spilled all over him, like afternoon sunlight streaming in between curtains, making way even through the small spaces to cast his light. I basked into this warmth as much time allowed me, because who knows when I can experience the glow of his presence again after all the chaos.

He was exactly like the golden hour: a warm afternoon orange luminescence that usually only stays for ten to fifteen minutes a day. If you wait too long to look up, he disappears quickly as he goes, leaving only the faint orange, yellow and pink hues chasing after him before the black of the night takes over you.

Well, now the fairytale has run its course and the sun has set to announce that golden hour is over. Night has finally fallen on me and I’m feeling scared and alone.

The first thing I did was to grab as much stuff as I could and put them all in my luggage and filed for an indefinite leave.

As if like clockwork, my phone rang and saw Shohei’s name on the caller ID. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. What could I possibly say to him? That I used him just for the clicks and the views? That after all this time we spent together, he would realize that I am still the same despicable, scathing piece of garbage who’d trample on anyone just for a few cents?

So I don’t answer. Even when he calls back again and again and leaves me twenty or more messages by the hour. I turned my phone off. The latest message from Ohtani coming up on the notifications bar read, “Where are you?” before the screen flashed to black.

I have nothing but my pride left. I’d like to keep it that way. In such a way, I was embarrassed, too. I thought I finally had something to brag about. A job that I actually liked and enjoyed, a peaceful mind, and the possibility of liking a guy who had shown me nothing but kindness.

And because I couldn’t handle all of this, I handled it like I have always handled things: I ran away like a coward.

I rode a bus without reading its destination card and let it drive me away as far as it could, to someplace where no one knew me or Shohei Ohtani, or had any idea about the news.

The bus drove away and I never looked back.

================================

Waiting Until My Spring Comes Again: Shohei’s POV

Just like that I lost her. She wasn’t even mine to begin with.

When the news broke out, I was so furious that I wanted to drive to the news outlet that published the article and give them a piece of my mind. I knew my blind rage would have done more damage so I didn’t.

Instead, I looked for her and wanted to let her know that whatever happens, I won’t drop her just like that. That I’m willing to acknowledge the rumors and make it official, if she wanted to.

I’ve always been open to the idea of taking it to the next level with her but every time I broached the subject, she would change the topic, get into a foul mood, or try to pick a fight with me. Which I found endearing. She’s so adorable when she pouts. And when she pushes her luck thinking a five foot four girl like her can withstand someone as tall as me.

I just can’t help but laugh and feel a flutter in my stomach. She’s someone who has been adorable and held a special corner in my heart.

Y/N’s face was so expressive and whatever emotion she was in it would always be evident on her face. When she’s happy, a dimple on her cheek shows up. When she’s feeling sad or down, she’d look downcast and would prefer that you leave her alone. When she’s thinking about something deep, she would chew on her lower lip and always had a blank almost unfocused stare. Despite her many faces, I’m sure as hell that I love all of them. I wanted to be by her side when all this shit happened, I wanted to see which face she was making. Is she pissed like I was? Is she sad? I wouldn’t know. The moment her number didn’t connect after I had tried reaching her, I already knew that she was avoiding me.

I lost count of how many messages I had sent her, of how many missed calls and voicemails I left her. She was unreachable. She gave me her spare key so when I tried visiting her apartment, it was empty.

She was gone.

And only the traces of her lingered in her apartment. Her unwashed mug with leftover stale coffee was on the kitchen counter, specks of lipstick staining the mouth. Dirty clothes hanging on her bathroom door, forgotten and unwashed. The peachy scent of her purifier that always latches on to her clothes whenever we go out. Her unread books on her coffee table, some dog eared and annotated.

Everything that I love about her is here except for her and I miss her.

For the next couple of days, I dodged the media and focused on training, playing and practicing. Those three over and over again. I tried to not think about her and lose sleep because of her. An athlete’s wellbeing is connected to quality sleep.

But she was everywhere I went. Pieces of her were scattered all over the places I avoided, and it was my fault really, for bringing her to places we usually hid. For hoping that someday, the secrets we hid would be our stories to tell. Now I just let her memories rot inside my heart, where she should be.

I thought it would be easier when you just let it slip by but the more days that passed without seeing her, the more I feel a gnawing pain in my heart. She had sucked all my sunlight and took it all away with her.

I want her back.

=====================================

My Answer is You

Eleven days. It took me nine days to realize running away was a bad idea.

When I first got off the bus, I thought the place looked familiar. Turns out, I rode the bus to my hometown, to the very south and the last bus stop until it turned around to go back to the city.

When I appeared in front of my mom–the first time in a long time–she had immediately said, “Did something in the city?”

The moment she asked, I broke down in tears. She shushed and consoled me while I cried like a little kid. Like the way I had bawled to her when my first boyfriend broke up with me, or when my love birds died from illness, the other from loneliness.

It feels like I would die of loneliness, Mom. I had said.

Did he really say that? Did he tell you that it’s over? She cooed.

I was embarrassed to admit to my mom that no, Shohei had never told me anything because I had shut him out even before I could give him the chance. But what if that call was already the end of it all? What if answering his call meant exactly what I had thought. That would shatter me more.

So, no, Mom, you can call your daughter a coward but in her heart, it’s all over.

The next forty-eight hours at home was a blur. After feeding me with what feels like a day’s worth of homemade dishes, she made me wash the dishes, clean my old room, and the living room as well. And when that wasn’t enough, she made me go with her to the night market and bought whatever seafood she could find to feed me.

Is this what you did when Dad left? I wanted to ask her. Did you go around acting as normal while nursing a wounded heart? Did you go all through that facade just to show me that you were strong for the both of us?

She had her back to me, her hands pale and creased with age, showing signs of passage of time and her hardwork to put me to school. I know she was trying to make me busy to keep my mind off of Shohei. I’m not sure if she fully understands the scandal but she was trying her best to keep my head above the water. Probably just like how she always did.

I wish I was strong like you, Mom.

On the fourth and fifth day, she had let me work under the sun harvesting corn. Which I absolutely despised. I had to wear sun hats and these jumpers to cover myself from the heat.

“It’s cheap labor for letting you stay and eat my food,” she said when I complained. “Tomorrow, you’ll help me sell these at the market.”

As the days grew idly by, I’ve grown more accustomed to rising early and eating less meat and more vegetables. I willingly went out of the sun more to do housework, like hanging clothes, watering Mom’s plants, however, I was still not willing to harvest her vegetables, which she made me do a lot. When I say a lot, it means everyday since then.

On the eleventh morning, I woke up earlier than usual and found my mom already awake. She busied herself with a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, mom.” I yawned, grabbing my own mug.

“After breakfast, pack your things and go back to the city.” She said quietly.

“Huh?” I’m not sure I heard her right. Is she kicking me out?

She pushed today’s newspaper into my hands and pointed at an article. An article shows a picture of Shohei smiling at the camera, behind him was a framed candid photo of me turning my head just in time when the camera clicked, I was wearing a sleeveless shirt, a shawl draped over my shoulders, and the wind blowing my hair and covering my face slightly. Just by looking at the photo, it looked like a time when Shohei and I drove to the beach. He had brought his camera and took a lot of photos.

The article said, “Portfolio on Love: Shohei Ohtani’s Photographs Displayed for A Cause.”

“....and when the powerhouse athlete gets a day off, he plays around his camera and takes photos of anything, everywhere. He reveals Insider Today that for the first time ever, he is displaying his portfolio to the public at the Grand City Museum starting today until the 31st of the month, with the theme of “hello, love, are you there?”

“...’I don’t know how else to define love but this. I hope when the public sees this, they will instantly know that my photographs are a reflection of my love,’ he said.

“When asked if this was a confirmation to the rumors flying around recently, he just smiled sadly and said, "I'm hoping that this answers everyone’s questions, especially hers.”

“If your face is plastered on all of the newspapers, it wouldn’t make sense to stay here longer.” Mom said after a while. She had finished her breakfast and took them away to the sink.

“It doesn’t end well if you’re too afraid, my darling.” she said, not looking at me. “To love and to be hurt is to be brave. If it doesn’t work out after facing him, then by all means. Come home. My doors are always open for you. And I will feed you rice cakes while you harvest my corn.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. She wasn’t a hugger but welcomed my hug and patted me on the shoulders. “Now go, before all the chismosas wake up and corners you.”

I packed my bags and left home, my heart pieced back together. It was not wrong to go home and seek shelter. What I did wrong was leaving Shohei all alone when he took most of the fall.

Five hours, one taxi ride, and a ten minute walk later, I arrived at the city museum, nervous, anxious, feeling a little lightheaded and hesitant. I wiped my sweaty palms and got inside.

It was not as packed as I had expected, probably because it was a little over after lunch, though there was still a relatively big crowd overall.

When I stepped into the hall featuring Shohei’s displays, I felt a surge of emotion. It was a collection of all the photographs of his loved ones. In a black and white collection, he had photographed his parents holding hands while walking in the snow, a photo of his dog sleeping idly on his couch, a photo of the football stadium in a wide angle shot, showing Ippei and the rest of his teammates playing a warm up game before practice.

When I turned to a corner, that’s when I saw it. There were multiple frames hanging intricately on one side, showing all of the photos he took of me. One during university days, where I was showing him a strangely large eggplant during our photo walks at the market. There was another with me looking at him angrily for reasons I couldn’t remember, and a more recent one, in the middle, where he was holding my hand while I walked forward, back facing the camera.

On the metal plate below were words that read in cursive: “2009–present. Moments of love that I hold dear.”

At that moment, tears had started rolling down my cheek and I couldn’t help but sob. The onlookers nearby started moving away, probably weirded out by the sudden burst of emotion over some piece of art.

They weren’t just pieces of art. These were moments when Shohei and I were together and maybe realized that it was love.

By then, someone on my left offered a handkerchief and I gingerly took it, wiping my tears-strewn face. I muttered an apology for ruining the fabric.

“This is not the first time someone cried in front of my photographs. Some were absolutely heartbroken after seeing them.” a man’s voice said. And that reeled me back as I turned around and saw Shohei standing in front me.

“I knew this would lure you back,” he said, smiling.

His face was a little gaunt and tired. He had dark circles around his eyes that I’ve never seen before. I could only look at him and he looked back. I had so many things I wanted to say to him, so many things I wanted to explain but he spoke first and said:

“Did you get a tan?” he started, raising an eyebrow.

“I-I was harvesting corn!” I said, covering my face with both hands. I didn’t even have the time to put on makeup or a swab of lipstick and that’s the first thing he notices.

He took my hands and held them tightly against his chest. “No one looks this beautiful even after harvesting corn.”

“Shut up,” I said looking away.

He tipped my chin and held my face. “Let’s start again, shall we?”

I raised an eyebrow in question.

“Hi, my name is Shohei Ohtani. I’m an athlete and an amateur photographer sometimes. I’ve been in love with the girl in the photographs since forever.”

I managed a smile and laced my hands around his neck. “Hi, I’m a ceramics maker and sometimes, a farmer, you should see the corn I harvest. You look so familiar. I think you look like my future boyfriend.”

His eyes perked up and laughed at our silly little game. He went in for a kiss and I obliged, feeling safe and brave in his arms.

Let them take the damn photographs and write the articles all they want, but they could never take my sunshine away ever again.

#shohei ohtani au #shohei ohtani imagines #shohei ohtani #shohei ohtani pov #shohei ohtani fluff #shohei ohtani smut

169 notes · View notes

maggiedanikka · 1 year

Text

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.”

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.”

——————————————————————————————-

@luckyladycreator2

@lunamoonbby

@n3ssm0nique

@and-claudia

@marrianena

@hummusxx

@writeroutoftime

@abrielleholland

@eroda-harry

@maxi-milf-dot-com

@jake-h-ngm-n-seresin

@8oopsiedaisy8

@dempy

@playswithsquirrellls

@bayisdying

@mysticaldonkey

@zzazzao

@arianna-bradshaw

@pinkwritingdoll

@xattislc

@calsjack

@1bakubabe

@paulina1998

@peaches-1999

@sopheeg

@cowboybarbie

@marvelsvalhalla

@bethebella

@bespinnn

@manwalaage

@sweet-creature98

@8lyme

@ashann7

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@maudeeloise

@ambearsstuff

@parker-natasha

@wishingwell-2

@my-soulmate-is-mycroft

@carolinecakes

@angzls

@saintnourah

@ebonyhogan24

@taytay3212

@fangirl-316

@babyspiderling

@iangiemae

@yogabigooby

@gracie145

@choslover

@maudeeloise

@cursedandromedablack

@marland56

@ynbutbetter

@turningtoclown

@dilfsandtherapy

@strawberryblogg

@unluckymonaghan

@queeniesdiary

@emilyniamh369-blog

@shaded-recs

@romxnticist

@Iyv127

@xoxoloverb

@marchingicenotes7

@supernaturaldawning

#rooster top gun #rooster imagine #rooster angst #rooster x reader #rooster x y/n #rooster #hangman #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #jake seresin #Top gun #top gum maverick #top gun one shot

240 notes · View notes

trashcanwithsprinkles · 10 months

Note

Now that CN is over I need more fics to read (I say as if I'm not in the middle of rereading CN and plan to reread ITYSG(AINLY) again because I'm literally obsessed with your fics). Do you have an recs? Also what's your favorite fics/comfort fics (you can include your own)? I always find it interesting to know what the authors of my favorite fics like to read when they aren't writing.

other than my other fics (babysitting in the apocalypse is my other zhongchi fic), i do have a some zhongchi recomendations! sadly i cannot actually go to my bookmarks atm nor provide direct links. i also don't really remember the authors' names of most of them? and you'd have to like.... save them for later, what with ao3 being down and all;; but here are some off the top of my head if you want to get planning:

(once ao3 gets back up i'll update this list with proper links and the authors' names and maybe more recomendations since i do have many more i just can't remember,,)

○ entirely out of spite by Bgtea - i generally assume everyone's already reading this one given how big it is (and how it was kind of my inspiration for cyanide even tho i never said it), but if you're not, holy shit are you in for a good one. literally anything bgtea makes is wonderful. this one is an au based on the premise of a different story, but you don't need any knowledge whatsoever of it to enjoy and understand eoos (tho consider it if you like the premise, bc it's also really good). the rundown is- a mondern ajax dies and wakes up in the body of tartaglia, the antagonist of genshin impact, a game he'd been playing before kicking the bucket. he is tasked by a weird isekai-anime looking menu to fill in the shoes of the antagonist or else, but he's not technically stopped from altering the story just a tiny bit or being ooc, so he goes about trying to play the tartaglia role without meeting the same end as tartaglia (who dies ingame). it's such a good fic i cannot recommend it enough - it's not complete yet, but the wait for each chapter is more than worth it, and bgtea always does an insane amount of research for everything they post.

○ literally any other zhongchi fic by Bgtea. there's this short one about pulcinella or capitano (i can't remember, it might've been pantalone) selling pictures of childe to increase morale in the fatui (something something pr strategies), that one is hilarious. there's another one about zhongli getting stuck as a dragon and childe taking care of him as the world slowly goes to shit from rex lapis being missing (a comment pointed out it might be called "ajax' adventure with dog-lizard" and it sounds about right for me). another one they have is the autumn winds are sighing i think. that one was posted WAY back, some of the info is a bit outdated, but it's still so, so good. i can't remember what it was all about, but i do remember it involves zhongli going to snezhnaya to meet childe's siblings. the pining and tension on that one is off the roof. i should read it again,,,

○ after everything by Amanveth (i think that's how their username is written,,) - literally palate cleansing fluff. there's really good angst as well but it's overall just very sweet and soft, very much a feel-good fic. it's about zhongli and childe going back to being friends after the events of the archon quest and slowly realizing they're in love. it's still ongoing but it updates shockingly fast, and it's a nice little thing to read before going to sleep.

○ the white cicada society by clementinesgulag. still ongoing i think, but i have paused reading it for reasons unrelated to the fic itself, so i can only really atest to the frist arc of it? but holy fuck is the first arc good. the angst is godly in this one, and i'm always a sucker for a good horror mystery. this one is about the gritty and slow reconciliation of post-archon quest zhongli and childe as they investigate a series of awful murders and terrifying paranormal shit (i'm pretty sure) going on in the city. (it might be revealed to not be paranromal later in the fic as that partiuclar plotpoint hadn't yet resolved when i paused it at the end of the first arc, but i wouldn't know. wouldn't make it any less good if it wasn't tho)

○ death became him by Merianon. also still ongoing i think, but part of the many fics i have paused reading for reasons unrelated to them (i have... way too many saved,,,). this one is about childe going back in time after dying and waking up as a god, and the fic starts there, so it's about how the events of the game go with childe as a god and not in the fatui. i can't remember all that much about it tbh, but i remember i really liked it, the concept was so interesting. i'm waiting for it to end.

○ a sight for sore eyes by ToumeiKyoudai. still ongoing afaik, but i paused reading it as of very recently (again for reasons outside of the fic). this one is the events of the game except childe is legally blind. you have no idea how interesting and hilarious this fic is, the premise is so simple but it's so nicely executed. i can't really say all that much more about it since it's basically just that- it's a retelling but childe's blind. and he's so fucking funny. it's all so fucking funny, and the worldbuilding is stellar, and i just really really like it i can't explain why exactly. it's not a comedy! but fuck it's so entertaining.

i have so many more that i wish i could put here but i'm not 100% confident in their titles nor which fic was which (happens when you have a ton bookmarked but have paused reading a lot of them), so i don't want to risk saying this fic is one thing when in reality it's something else completely different,,,

these last two i put below for reasons i'll explain in each of their blurbs, but they're still as recomended as those above!

○ lungs full of roses, by SecretlyACatLady. if this is the title (and i'm 99% certain it is, but i can't check), then this is hands down the BEST hanahaki angst i've ever read. i'm not kidding. this one is very specific in its angst tho, and i gather likely not what everyone is looking for in a hanahaki fic, but holy fuck. basically childe gets hanahaki here but knows he cannot afford to have anyone find out he has it (bc fatui) and also not that he died from it, i think? might be mistaking that particular plotpoint for another fic. anyway- he leaves liyue but zhongli goes to look for him bc he's confused and just wants to apologize for the whole tsaritsa's contract and all. it gets out of hand real quick when the ppl of mondstadt try to help by acting as pushy wingmen and it's so GOOD holy fuck. i've never liked when other characters try to push the main pair together and act all 'just kiss already we all know!' around them, and seeing it backfire as horribly as it could if it were a realistic scenario (tho enhanced bc childe) is so incredibly satisfying. the reason why i put it down here is 1) i'm not 100% sure that's the title and 2) if it hasn't been abandoned, it's been in hiatus for a while now. which is hearbreaking, but it's also such a good fic that i'd honestly recommend it regardless if only for the angst at the start. but i understand not everyone is in for something like that if it doesn't resolve/likely won't resolve (idk if it's abandoned tho but i understand that if a fic takes too long to update, people will fear the worst). so yeah,,

○ non-playable character, by Jouicifer. this one is here exclusively because i'm a sucker for horror mystery - it doesn't mean the zhongchi isn't good, but it's not as prevalent in the plot as in white cicada (another horror mystery), so i can't exactly put it with the other more zhongchi-centric fics? not that the zhongchi isn't here, but. hard to explain. this one is also hard to explain in general, i'm not sure if it's based on the premise of another story or if this is a highly-secific trope/sub-genre in china (i think?), but the author refers to it as 'unlimited flow', so look it up if you want to be sure. either way, much like with eoos, it doesn't matter if you know anything about whatever that might be to enjoy and understand the story. the rundown is childe and a bunch of other people are players in this sort of virtual-reality scenario hopper, where they get put in 'games' with other players where they can die (tho idk if die die irl as well). basically, in the newest scenario they get thrown into, it's a horror murder mystery about a haunted mansion, and their guiding npc is zhongli, whom childe has met in another scenario and whom he is an absolute simp for. god idk how to explain it, it's just so good; but you need to be there for the plot first and the ship second. the ship is there! it's just the plot takes presedence. but holy fuck is the plot good. the reason why it's down here, like lungs full of roses, isn't bc of the plot or the ship being secondary, but... well, it's also been in hiatus for a long while now. to this fic's credit in particular, it was in a long hiatus before, but updated! out of nowhere! and then it went into its current hiatus, so. again, i understand people don't like that, but i'm a patient person so i'm willing to keep it in my bookmarks for as long as it takes (and forever if it gets abandoned). it's just THAT good. and since there's not much horror murder mystery in this fandom (or in fics in general), i'll take whatever i can get. the mystery is good in this one, so it helps.

(edit: added some authors and a fic title, thank you archon-of-chaos and redwormonastring!)

#as soon as ao3 is up i'll look thru my bookmarks and correct anything i got wrong #and also add some more fics #i have a ton more that i really really like #i just can't remember their names with as much clarity as these ones #idk why it's not like i like these particularly more than some of those #i enjoy all equally #except non-playable character that one's probably my favorite #and eoos #anyway #thank you!#always happy to recomend fics

68 notes · View notes

sharonisthebettercarter · 8 months

Text

comics inspired butchlander ideas<3

so.

guess who got inspired~<3 after readin' that loveable trainwreck known as the boys~<3<3<3

it's the original verse that started all the bullshit and definitely worth the read and messages being discussed and it's definitely not any worse or even as bad as the show is 'edge'wise (def got surpassed there!). plus it really does feel like its own secret playbook/au for the show with some unique insight on the characters and story lmao<3 may also do a bit of concept breakdown idk

heads up! long long post ahead butt~ i'll split this into segments with some bold and <3<3<3 highlighting each idea<3

butt~ full disclosure~<3...

they abso-fuckin'-lutely~ confirm billy butcher as the biggest fuckin' bottom of the entire series<3<3<3 the bratty bossy baby type (with a soft boi side~!) who even is THE GUY who confirms homelander's canonically huge dong~<3! and even just spiritually, I CANNOT<3<3<3 (if i don't fuckin' count the lovely show boi un-fuckin'-ironically calling himself an alpha male and how gotdamn CUTE that motherfucker who plays him is. FUCKING MAN PUPPY with them big ass wide pretty eyes and adorable nose and perfect second trimester belly when he gains just a little bit of chub<3<3<3)

i don't much imagine the actors/actresses *directly* anyhow when i write/read (kinda some features i may like do stay, but i do LOVE to play with them sometimes, some comic features generally tend to stick (namely muscle cause i need it), and moar often am picturing some kind of 3d/actor/comic amalgamation in wolf among us (game) style cause i'm weird i guess) who knows, maybe i might pick up a pen and actually draw what's in my head for once even tho its been goddamn years--

and boi oh fuckin' boi did these things gimme some fantastic au ideas, combined and separate cause why the fuck not~<3 we can always do BOTH (as i normally do anyway lol) ;))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

anywho~<3

visceral reactions to being bad for homie<3<3<3

listen.

so this shit was an INSTANT creative boner for me y'all that i CANNOT for the life of me figure out why people wouldn't wanna further explore this! like holy fuck, i know how much bad~<3 homie is dearly loved, but what about fix-its and GOOD~<3 homie (no i do not mean superman but we're gonna dive a bit into that lore), or. OR. get this... homie who is good but for the WRONG reasons~<3<3<3 ;)))))))))))))))))))

like~ wanting to genuinely be the best fucking hero out of 'vindictive personal glory and pettiness'~<3<3<3 or simply because he literally 'cannot be bad' without reacting!<3<3<3

for a breakdown, in the comics, homie is gaslit into oblivion into thinking he is and then being bad (sort of an 'i think, therefore i am' evolving into 'i can, therefore i must' complex) and there's pretty much a build up to reveal he was never actually the 'villain' he was painted as from the start. (spoiler alert, butcher is much fucking worse) part of that includes him having visceral reactions to doing truly evil things he full well knows are legit evil

whether a mental breakdown, some mirror~ talk, or even him actually throwing up, the boi legit had a bodily *rejection* to evil and i just...

i couldn't help thinkin', well what if he *knew* it wasn't him because of this reaction, and he couldn't be gaslit... opens up a new can o worms, don't it~<3

just imagine the chaos to be had with this poor boi having to lose his goddamn lunch everytime he either does a bad mission for vought or is just fuckin' mean or lies to someone<3 it'd be fucking GLORIOUS<3!

imagine~<3 butcher getting 'infected' with homelander's peculiar 'affliction' thinking he's caught that 'raging case a vagina' only for it to turn out to be a 'raging case a morning sickness' for poor billy boo~<3<3<3

but beyond that, there are a couple lines that play in my head for his interactions with butcher and how he could take being accused given his... well, alibi lmao! things like~

"why don't you like me? everyone likes me."

"no, i think i'll just... continue to do the right thing. i love how much it grates you when people have a legitimate reason to adore me and especially when they cheer for me."

and my personal favorite~<3

"i'm the real hero. die mad about it."

because who doesn't love a sassy fine boi~<3<3<3!!

anywho~, this actually leads into the next bit which was actually an idea i had learning about the comics even before reading them. i have seen it played with somewhat?? though not really quite like this or in this capacity. BUTT~<3

detective husbands<3<3<3

or not quite there but getting there lol. this one definitely requires a key plot point from the comic in which homie was framed for what happened to becky (and others), but can still be combined with show elements or relate back to the show. the difference being that he is fully aware that he didn't do it and wants to find out, even help butcher know, who done it...

clone games are of course an option there, but i'm actually surprised that no one's thought about using doppleganger as the rapist. we know he can morph into anyone and is already an undercover rapist for vought's blackmailing, it's really not all that far fetched to consider he might end up taking certain 'looks' for joy rides and doing awful things to scared people. i for one think doppleganger is actually a great character for exploration and story twists, butt i digress

basically, this idea hinges on homelander *not* being the true culprit and offering to help~<3 it can also absolutely be combined with the last one<3<3 and even moar~<3<3<3

but mostly, i do love me that delectable idea of these two motherfuckers working together to figure out the truth~<3 and homie being the BEST worst soldier that butcher could ever possibly ask for. technically, homie can still be a huge dumpster fire for this as long as he didn't commit *this* specific crime, even different levels of trash fire, or clean as a whistle~<3

maybe with a dropped quote from marcus aurelius~<3 to help things along--"punish only he who has committed the crime."

so long as butcher finds him useful (OH--), homie's pretty much a shoo-in for the group shenanigans, he could be another vas but stronger~<3<3<3

aaaaaand~ since i mentioned it

clone games and shadow homie<3<3<3

clones are an obvious oldie, but a goodie i think. i also think they give lots of different people mixed feelings. it can for sure feel corny and overplayed (especially in the comics genre which lmao, let's be honest is a fuckin' cornfest in general), but can also be pretty cool and interesting, even thought provoking when done well.

side note~ i do think it was done well in the comic, if you go in knowing what to expect (and i honestly expected worse), you see the signs and build up even from very early in the comics. (also billy wut the fuck you stupid stupid entrapping clone accomplice cunt, how the fuck could you not be the slightest bit suspicious when a mountain of clearly very STAGED photos falls into your lap?? oh that's right motherfucker, ya don't actually care whether people are guilty or not as long as they're supes--)

but the abruptness in the way it changes the dynamic and understanding in what's actually occurred can give whiplash. it makes you realize just how tragic homelander's situation really is and then fully robs you of any enjoyment of his death because it is just that fucked up. start to end, you realize he never had a life of his own... and that's... that fuckin' hits. HARD.

in addition to unveiling that the story has been following its biggest villain the whole time, the themes are flipped entirely on its head, suddenly the *people* who were villainized and getting taken down are the ones who need saving and ooooooh... it fuckin' hurts, but it is VERY well done. especially when you realize that the story LAID THIS OUT from the very beginning~!

ugh, enough of that concept breakdown lmao.

basically clones are gonna be hit or miss for lots a folks, tho i do think it stems more from misunderstanding/bad stories and post hoc association, granted it can be an easy concept to fuck up (but also make flourish)

butt~ what about fanfic~<3?

OH. i see the opportunity~<3 and i am once again so disappoint no one else is gettin' creative! obviously, this one does hinge a bit more on the comic, but it can connect~<3 (can't do both~?;)))))))

the clone is.... well, there's a small part of me (micro~) that i must admit does feel kinda bad for him. in the same way i feel bad for the joker. in which this motherfucker is literally, legitimately, completely fucking insane?? and it's well... it's *difficult* to plainly judge a very broken mind as you would a 'normie'. (stiiiiiiil fuckin' hate 'em)

and in a way, i get it. to be *made* for one fucking purpose and then denied fulfilling it puts a mind in a fucked up place. he actually sorta mirrored homelander. both created for purpose, but while one was expected to meet a standard he was *not* prepared for, the other *was* prepared for his standard, and then denied the chance to meet it.

and there's a lot that can be explored there just between homie and the clone. especially if the clone *tells* him early on. ;) twin bros is also technically an option which i'll get to with shadowlander~<3 (which is not *quite* a twin)

butt. when it comes to clones, something that does often get explored is rapid deterioration of them or them coming out 'wrong' from damaged DNA. there's a whole somethin' there to be explored with an OG homie and a deteriorating clone or possibly more than one clone, cause why not? in the comics, his clone was an 'upgrade', but what if he hadn't been? better yet, what if they failed multiple times? what if the mental breakdown and subsequent framing of homie was the result of the physical and mental deterioration?

the deterioration itself could have even been a contingency plan to their original contingency plan (which honestly, TOTAL amateur move not to have one... BATMAN would have thought of one!) and these themes could be explored to bittersweet effect or even just sweet if the clone *does* tell him, and they work things out/team up against vought<3

combine the two (deterioration/team up) for a super tragic bittersweet feel that could even revolve around homie saving/failing his clone/brother/only friend... </3

OUCH.

moving on~ multiple clones because they all deteriorate rapidly. now THIS is a fuckin' fire starter... especially if the REAL homie is the one to never see the light of day, specifically because they *can't* make the contingency plan.

and here's where it gets REAL fun~<3 in this case, OG homie never sees light of day. one of the clones does commit the crime since they're all crazy *almost*, but the clones themselves keep dying, and public sometimes trashfire homie is a new clone every time and has many many many many doomsday arcs that he seemingly *recovers* from every time (new clone, who dis?... LMAO PERFECT. title right there!), vought changes things up.

public homie is the clones, he is always the clones. og homie (johnny boi~<3) becomes their contingency (assassin~) when needed since he is the only perfect one and he is very *very* well trained (as a weapon). (this can also super play into homie's anxiety for why they kept him behind the scenes too, noir can be show noir~<3, bit of role reversal actually)

kicker being when billy either *sees* og homie killing one of the clones, or has one of the deteriorating clones *literally* die and deteriorate/dissolve on top/in front of him as it's trying to kill him. it could even be one of the saner/good clones (or one that discovers homie) who finds and sends the pictures (of another clone, comic) to try get the boys to freee the real homie and stop vought

because i LOVE the idea of big dumb animal completely unused to human interaction homie coming under billy's wing, and billy definitely DEFINITELY abusing his trust and planning to use him as a weapon before~<3 well... let's just say that homie's story, general innocence (here), and need for comfort could do *things* to billy's cold dead heart<3

that one can also be combined with visceral reactions. and this homie would likely have never been with another person~<3 (what a cutie~!)

the a/b/o wrench could def be thrown in there in a special way too (thrown in like normal every other time~<3 the world def needs more omega butcher<3<3<3) but for the clones, they're all made betas/ pseudo or normal alphas while homie...

is a very rare type of prime (mmmmhmmm~<3 lol) or true alpha deemed too dangerous for society (bullshit of course, but omegas would likely be very common in this world and run things, alphas like homie would be killed at birth ordinarily, and the clones deteriorating could be explained by the tampered dna to make them 'normal'.)

i do also adore the idea that only a prime/true alpha can get a male omega pregnant for this kinda world setting~<3 (or even that they can get other normal *alphas* pregnant/bitch them) and that of course is an idea that can be used for any canon/au, show or comic.

how crazy would it be for billy to discover homie is an actual alpha and then use it against him to destroy his rep/turn people against him? it would be very on point, and could also result in an arranged bonding situation to *tame the dangerous alpha* with a *calm and rational omega*, guess who i have in mind~<3<3<3 ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

of course, homie's super sperm is still always an option because i love mpreg and bitching~<3<3<3

back to the topic. shadowlander/twins. twins are pretty self explanitory and of course, ideas can be combined. basically there were two and one got treated way way different. one or both finding out could either cause hella resentment, or these bois teaming up~<3<3<3

shadow homie... is a bit more complicated? and sparked from wanting the 'clone' framing situation AND show noir~<3 in which homie has a power he has no clue about because he has a literal dark side that can separate from his body. likely a manifestation that protected him when he was young (i love those imaginary friend type powers<3) that grew to be something... moar (and terrifying)

this kinda goes similar to the concept of mirrorlander and homie having DID, but a little different and more accurate to what's actually going on (on the show based on interview, and a little more respectful i do hope. DID is commonly used in explorations of duality and 'evil dangerous dark side' but it doesn't quite... help with common misconceptions about the disorder. just my two cents, if i were gonna explore this, i'd wanna flip it with a good personality that legit cockblocks homie every time he tries to do bad and is fighting for control/is the one causing visceral reactions to evil~<3)

but back to shadowhomie. basically, when homie was little, his literal powers created this demon to protect him. BUTT, as homie grew to no longer need him, he was caged up. and locked away. and forgotten. never a good combo and bound to cause issue~<3

so what happens? well, he has a 'clone' as this thing... developed. but he doesn't know it. shadow lander would likely hold everything dark about homie, in essence a literal manifestation of what his trauma created in him being *expelled* from his body and if not protecting him... well...

this kinda thing could also fuck around with homie's powers and make them act up a bit weirdly, maybe split what power he does or doesn't have/make them inconsistent, shadowlander splitting from him and not being with him could also be an explanation for homie's visceral reactions~<3 (full circle~<3)

but with this scenario, homie's not the culprit, but also... he is the culprit. but also not. yesn't.

i've always loved exploration in duality, and i like the idea of that side being able to fully separate, because it makes for great complexities and creative freedom. including giving homie his own doomsday arc~! (if you are unfamiliar with superman lore, i basically mean homie will end up fighting his dark side and ''''''dying''''''<3)

and that battle could be spectacular on its own when you consider that as a 'part' of homie, shadowlander could end up 'linked' to him. one gets hurt, the other does too. which always makes for... interesting fights. or since homie is the OG, it only works one way in which shadow homie gets hurt, but he wont, but maybe shadow homie is stronger overall to counterbalance it.

end result would be a struggle to 'reabsorb'/'kill' shadow homie, and to tie it back into the doomsday arc, billy could end up super fucking sad and depressed post '''''death''''' battle after a whole ass journey realizing 'oh shit, homie's *not* the bad guy' and also 'oh shit, i think i fell in love with him when i tripped, fell, and landed on his dick'... perhaps unknowingly with a little one on the way~<3<3<3 ;)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))

twin works in place of shadowlander like the original clone too.

last thing i'll say is that i'm actually surprised they haven't used the clone option in the show given they have antony starr as homelander (*coughs in outrageous fortune* lmao). he's a guy who coulda pulled it off with flying colors and it honestly has me wondering if they may have a plan for a clone being made/used for the finale but a bit differently

MOVING ON~<3!

assassin homie and the boi who LEARNS<3<3<3

assassin homie is a fun one~<3

let's start with the 'boi who LEARNS'<3 what does that even mean? well, basically it means homie discovers he was gaslit and framed before shit hits the fan, and that he has a clone as a contingency plan... so what does he do~?

welp, couple options there between straight up murder/assassination~, getting people fired or getting them to resign, he basically takes out every single last person who *can* give the order for the clone to destroy him--

so that there's no one left who *can* give the order...

the result?

well, in someone as fucking unstable as the clone, this could cause a self destruct, he would implode/explode/everything inbetween. but ultimately be likely to destroy himself faced with a situation where he can never meet the objective he was made to meet. it's almost cruel, but it's basically a checkmate from homelander where he personally dismantles vought and gets the clone to destroy itself with minimal effort.

oooh~<3 scary and exhilarating<3<3<3

couple paths from there, either homie fucks off to be alone, total supe anarchy chaos without vought and he's around, or he takes full control of what's left of vought and OOOOHHHH~<3 OPTIONS~<3!

butt~ the fact of the matter would definitely fuck billy's (comic) plans to oblivion since... well, the boys could just go to homelander to stop him<3<3<3 if billy is stupid enough to actually try to follow through that is<3 or leave billy in a... peculiar spot.

he'd probably be there expecting a big final fight with homelander, and instead he'd get the clone destroying itself, homie was actually not guilty the whole time, and he doesn't even lift a finger to get the job done that billy had been trying to do for over a fucking decade.

"that's gotta sting..."

it also deals with a moar dangerous~<3 homie that actually uses that big brain and high iq of his<3<3<3

but with the options it does leave, there are certainly windows for... futures<3 lmao, brighter or darker actually.

something like this could make billy totally lose his drive and obsession even if homelander goes full tyrant on vought scraps because not only was he wrong, he didn't even manage to get the revenge he wanted. everything he claimed was for becky/becca (while knowing she would hate it) was pretty much for nothing in the end.

homelander could either make himself a 'villain' for billy just to snap him out of it, or even (while tyranting) implement changes that are good/more strict for vought superheros and come to check on billy.

things could even be unbearably NORMAL and they fall in love like the world's most boring average couple ever since its all over<3<3<3 (love me some vanilla shit and marshmallow billy boo<3 his canon submissiveness for people he loves his adorable<3<3<3)

it works similarly in reverse too, where homie fucks off and tells the world to fuck off since he's lost hope after that bullshit, and billy (begrudgingly) has to finally, FINALLY fucking swallow his pride and convince homie to come help them clean up/chaos is happening/major threats on the horizon they need homie for~<3<3<3

and homie OF COURSE<3 being stubborn<3 as billy tries to make him see reason that the world is worth protecting... maybe inadvertently doing so when they start banging and homelander gets billy boo up the duff~<3<3<3

but going back to assassin~<3 homie. i kinda like the idea of him apprehending and intercepting the supes the boys go after, even doing the jobs more efficiently than they could depending on scenario of course. 'making the boys obsolete' homie is another creative boner of mine and he is gorgeous~<3<3<3

but of course. not the only method. there's also the one who goes after billy~<3

of course, he'd need to get stopped and put on some kind of truce with him for butchlander, but then it can absolutely go back to him making the boys 'obsolete' to get rid of them<3 love me some dangerous predator homie<3<3<3

fact is, the boys has the 'hunted' taking aim at the 'hunter', classic trope, but it makes for some magical cat and mouse games~<3 assassin homie dials up his danger and discretion up to 1100 for sure. and there is A LOT that can be done with that<3<3<3

hate fucking<3<3<3

pretty self explanitory~<3

mostly, i just wanna drop that billy loving hate fucking is canon BOTH ways~<3<3<3 (gotta LOVE maeve taking control and his lazy lover ways~, can only IMAGINE what *show* raynor did to him<3<3<3) as is his submissive sweet bean marshmallow fluffy boi bottom tendencies when he falls in love like literally admits to becky being the first woman on top in the comic HE'S JUST SO FUCKING ADORABLE I--<3<3<3

butt. the boi is also super self destructive by habit for sure. he purposely, consistently, deliberately, bites off WAY fucking moar than he can chew for the explicit purpose of getting his ass handed to him. (literally how he meets becky. is his obvious death wish fucking showing yet)

and with a guy like homie?? he'd definitely *want* it to hurt hella bad and would definitely~ push for fighting turned into fucking... and getting overpowered each time<3

can of course be combined with other ideas~<3

the mud people/supe dilemma and compound V<3<3<3

this is just another canon dropping for both continuities. while not impossible for supes to sleep with humans... it IS portrayed as... *difficult*.

in the comics, it's more specific, but both the show and comic actually give examples of strength disparity being an issue and normal humans getting hurt. mm mentions what happens to the sex workers at herogasm, and that poor writer guy gets his dick snapped off.

the comics take it another step and show us people can and often do use drugs cut with V in order to be able to keep up, so to speak. (the only real thing to mention about v is that it comes in many more different forms in the comic that def could be explored<3)

but going back to the supe/human thing, i would wager that it (obviously) varies for supes for how *difficult* it is to maintain control when with humans. homelander obviously would be the top of that list.

and listen. y'all. i could not be fucking paid to miss an opportunity for the super dick. with great fucking *power* comes great *fucking* power LEMME TELL YA<3<3<3

if i have a chance to write about super dick, i won't miss it BECAUSE~<3

no refractory period~<3

super fucking stamina~<3<3<3

fingers, tongue, and dick can be VIBRATED with superspeed~<3<3<3<3<3<3

this motherfucker is the PERFECT<3 service top.

combined with that diamond shatting flesh destroying clencher atrocity out the back and i--.

ice princess, but worse.

lmao. the superman archetype ALWAYS tops. he just does. he needs to for the sake of his partner. it is a fact of life or you're doin' it wrong cause you have just missed the greatest golden opportunity for one HELL~<3<3<3 of a GOTDAMN GOOD fuckin' time that CANNOT be beat.

legit.

what a terrible tragedy and great disservice to miss out on this, i just... i couldn't. i would literally die. literally.

anywho~<3

"i quit" and early retirement<3<3<3

kinda self explanatory<3 again comes back to comics with them pics but can just deal with billy accusing homie however, whenever. tho the premise once again does come back to he *didn't* do it.

basically, the second the accussation comes out? homie... quits.

for an actual good reason too, or at least an attempt at good. (can just be homie being petty and hurt, works best if his record is spotless otherwise i think but also good if he's being extra extra petulant) but the good reason is him thinking he's lost time and hurt people, and not wanting to hurt anyone else/get to the bottom of things on his own if he doesn't think it was him for whatever reason.

as always lmao, can be tied back to others such as the visceral reactions, or idk, maybe the motherfucker actually has a hobby this time. it goes back to billy having to convince him to help instead<3<3<3

definitely love the world ending option here, maybe yellowstone is about to erupt or something and only homelander can stop it. i have an idea there that i will go into another time just to not add anymore tangents here. same goes for secret identity~<3 since that's more general<3

butt~<3

the other part of this is a homie who quit a long long time ago as soon as the first accusations (from others, not billy) started rolling in and fucked off to live a quiet life. it does tie in back to the clone shenanigans, multiple bad ones or one is fine. but this OG homie is an overpowered beast and--gentle giant<3.

basically, he's calm cause he has his 'girls' (milking animals lmao), a small farm, cabin by a lake, and is living a solitary life in peace as a mountain man (also inspired by starr's obsession with being a mountain man lmao). and maybe he's got hobbies, idk

however... billy, while going after the clone gets badly injured. that's where this mofo steps in. he could handle it then and there or the conflict is saved for later and he just helps billy, but either way, he takes billy back to his cabin and nurses him back to health. existensial crisis ensues~<3

possible fighting with billy demanding he handle the fucking clone if he hasn't and homie just being a... passive neutral bug. do love me the doc manhattan approach<3<3<3

there's something about rebuilding a lost hope superman/super powerful character that just makes me so happy<3

the real homie can also do other things like run a goddamn candy store or somethin, and the secret identity aspect can also def be used, maybe they're neighbors<3

maybe billy's been secretly getting railed by the retired asshole the whole goddamn time~<3<3<3

billy's final evil plan works?? and the "crossed" option<3<3<3

kinda. this one hinges back to comics (obviously, all these prompts are comic inspired lmao) with billy's worst idea ever actually succeeding, sorta, whether he skips to the finish line out of desperation or any of the above reasons or other keep homie alive, he succeeds in changing the landscape of the world.

and it backfires~<3

(tho if ya wanna go real depressing, he could actually succeed and they die in each others arms, do have to throw that one out)

butt anywho~<3 backfiring.

it can either kill all the normal humans, leaving only supes, or change a bunch of humans, kill some, and leave only supes.

it can also cause a legit zombie apocalypse. cause knowing billy... let's just be honest, it would. it absolutely would. and the zombies would function exactly like those in 'crossed' (another work by ennis i am hella interested in but fuck me they are expensive), congrats billy, you fucked the world!

in the 'crossed' crossover (lmao), supes could be immune and billy inadvertently makes homie the last best hope for human survival... and he can be a remarkably shitty one or he can actually be great or gradually learn~<3 but personally, it does seem poetic that billy would inadvertently create billions of what he was allegedly trying to destroy. that is monstrous humans with no humanity.

in a regular dystopia where people just died a lot, classic tropes from a/b/o come into play (arranged mating/population boost/control for butchlander anyone~?) and maybe even homelander being the only one who knows what billy did/tried to do and hiding the now most wanted man on earth (or maybe they do know and billy being an omega is the only thing that saves his life)

as always ideas can be combined goddammit fuck me i am tired this thing took me DAYS and if there is anything i've forgotten or want to add?

i will just make a goddamn part two (do plan for some show inspired ones too~!) or combine it with another set a prompts cause

holy fuck--

9 notes · View notes

firstaidspray · 2 months

Text

Birthday Countdown Revchase Snippets - Day 22

To celebrate Valentine's month as well as my birthday month, I'm going to post a snippet of Revchase every day until my birthday, using these prompts- there are 25 so it leads right up to my birthday!! Here is day 22!!

22- Write about a member of your ship giving the other a special gift.

Pairing: Robert Chase/Reverie (oc)

Media: House MD

Word Count: 717

Rating: Everyone

CW: None

Weekends off– no, shared weekends off, are the most sacred and important kinds of days off. How rare it is for House to let Chase off the hook for more than an hour, let alone the same time Reverie isn't stuck in the OR– it's a time to celebrate. And often, that celebration is going down to the shore to surf, swim, and beachcomb to their hearts’ content.

They arrive back home with sand still finding its way out of their bags, their clothes, hell, even their bodies despite several showers. With skin just a few shades warmer than before, up to a point, thanks to whatever wetsuit or swimwear they chose. With bags full of new ocean treasures, from shells to bones to beach glass.

One particular item, though, Chase has found and kept hidden from Reverie. Which is difficult, considering she digs around in all the bags to make sure they have everything before coming back home. And this item is difficult to conceal, considering its fragility and importance, so Chase has had to keep it basically on his person at all times to keep Reverie from finding it.

The afternoon they return home from the shore, and everything is put away in the house, Reverie throws herself onto the couch and sighs. Chase can tell she's exhausted from the trip and the unpacking, and since she's in a relaxed state, now might be the time to give her that special item.

“Hey, Rev,” Chase calls to her, his voice having an air of importance to it. “There's something I want to show you.”

Reverie turns over her shoulder and watches as he digs in the camera bag. “Oh, Christ, is it a picture of me eating shit on that really small wave? Did you photograph that? Because I do not want to see that. It was embarrassing enough as it is.”

Chase shakes his head and laughs. “No, it's something else. A gift.”

She raises her eyebrows. “A gift?”

“Yep,” he says, trying to keep the thing he speaks of hidden in his hands. “A gift from the ocean.”

Reverie's heart speeds up. “Oh God, what did you find?”

He kneels beside the couch next to her and opens up his hands like a clam shell, revealing what's inside. Reverie gasps and smiles, laughing in disbelief.

“Ta-da,” he says playfully, moving his hand closer to Reverie.

“Holy shit, Chase! You really found this?!”

In his hands is a small, black item, no longer than six inches. It looks like some kind of pouch with horns on the top and bottom, and that's because it is– it's a mermaid's purse.

“I can't believe you found a fucking mermaid's purse!” Reverie cheers, poking at the leathery little sea trinket. “The size, the shape…it's gotta be a small skate egg case. When and where did you find this?”

Chase smirks. “Funny enough, I found it when you ate shit on that small wave. That wave washed it ashore. I knew you've always wanted one, so I grabbed it as fast as I could and I've hidden it all weekend so I could give it to you as a present.”

Reverie takes the mermaid's purse into her own, considerably smaller hands, and admires it with sparkles in her eyes and a huge smile. “This has got to be like, the coolest thing I've ever gotten to hold. And I've held a human heart!”

“I'm glad you like it,” Chase replies with a smile. “Took a lot of effort to keep it hidden. I'm just glad you thought I took an embarrassing picture of you and refused to touch the camera all weekend.”

She laughs. “I'm glad, too. You know where this goes, right?”

“Yep.”

“The shelf of honor,” they say simultaneously.

The shelf of honor is a special shelf in their bedroom, just adjacent to the nightstand but high up on the wall. It contains several oddities and specialties from both parties’ beachcombing adventures, and the mermaid's purse fits right in next to a heart shaped shell Reverie found right after telling Chase she loves him.

“Thank you so much,” Reverie says before giving Chase a kiss on the cheek. “It's the coolest thing on the shelf, innit?”

Chase nods. “I think so. I really do think so.”

#birthday countdown revchase snippets #reverie #revchase #my writing #x: gee angel

0 notes

nqmonarch · 3 months

Text

Quick little post on enjoying hobbies

Many times I've dealt with burnout in my life whether it be with art, writing, programming, or music. And I understand that if what you're getting burned out of is your job it's a lot harder to deal with but for those of you that don't have your hobbies as your job and are getting burned out that's okay!!!

Burn out is natural if you force yourself to do something then it's going to happen. If you make it your goal to write ten minutes every day and once you get started most days you're hitting at least an hour, then one day you can't even make it to five minutes of writing? It's okay to take a break!

I want to share my strategies for dealing with burnout:

-Take a break, really obvious I know but take a break and like an actual one. You don't have to do something else that day to be productive just take a break and do whatever your heart pleases, even if that's lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling for 5 minutes. I understand not everyone has the luxury of being able to take a break, so if that's you and you want to get over your burnout then hopefully one of the following strategies will help

-Experience your favorite emotion to feel. Sounds kind of confusing but we all have an emotion we like feeling more than other emotions (generally, a positive one). It's good to seek out media relating to that, for example I like feeling a sense of wonder when I see something completely new. When I experienced artistic burnout I suddenly had the thought of what was under the water (wildlife) of the Antarctic Ocean. Holy shit did I find some inspiring photos that I wanted to draw more than anything. Did they come out good? Hell no! But I kept improving at drawing.

-Don't focus as much on the end result. Especially if you're a perfectionist. What helped me overcome this is when I look at anything I've created I instead try to look at all the hours I poured in and the emotions I poured in, instead of just the end product. Be proud of the fact you worked so hard on something it may not be perfect but nothing is, and that's what makes everything so beautiful.

Preventing burnout:

-The most important thing is to keep going, no matter how small the steps are. You can take breaks but try not to make those breaks into something permanent. One day can very easily turn into one week which can easily turn into one month. What I like to do is the ten minutes rule for everything I'm working on I do ten minutes of it and generally I'll keep going once I get started. I get 5 rest days a month (which are flexible given the circumstances of my life) and if I don't do ten minutes and I'm out of rest days, Bertwin (my profile picture) gets punched in the face. I think finding a good motivator to do those ten minutes is the hardest part because once you've got ten minutes it gets a lot easier to keep going.

-Do different things in your life. Not like different things from what you currently do but try to do multiple things, like don't just do x and y hobby try to add more and give yourself people to talk to, sights to enjoy seeing, something that is just for fun.

-Cutout what causes burnout. This is hopefully not something the majority of you are experiencing but if you have someone that critiques every little thing you do in what you create then cut them out of your life (given that critiquing everything you create isn't that person's job, like an editor). It's really sad because it can be people close to you, and you love them, but for me, it sucks even more to not enjoy what I love doing.

Because at some point you did love doing your hobby, or else it wouldn't be your hobby. Just that love got lost somewhere along the way.

Decided to write this after finally enjoying playing piano again (to the point it can help bring me out of depressive moods) and my friend (much better at piano, used to play in competitions) told me to continue focusing on one singular song until it was perfect although that drains the joy out of piano for me.

It's okay to do things just to be happy with them,

who gives a shit if it doesn't sound that good? Or if you write or draw something and it doesn't get attention or gets negative attention?

You are doing something which should fulfill you and make you happy and you're improving at it because you continue to do it no matter what. You should be happy with yourself AND proud of yourself.

You're a wonderful person just for continuing to attempt to improve at something you love! It's okay to live your life for you, you don't have to always please or do something for others.

Just some things that help me

#burnout

0 notes

jackalopes-pen · 9 months

Text

You were there

Summary: Kyle calls Stan back to South park to remember an old tradition. As they do, an unexpected guest shows face and changes their whole plan.

A/N: Again, I'm begging, on my knees for feedback. I need to know how to write these motherfuckers. Comment, reblog with tags, whatever just tell what I'm fucking up! I need more feedback then a like every few days.

Words: 5,372

The other ‘How do I Write Them?’

If you take Main Street for a while, then turn when you get to the construction site, go under the scaffolding and through a shipping container, you'll see it. A tin looking wall, rusted and old. Someone - no one has a fucking clue as to who - posted a paper. It read:

'Show that you raised were here! Spray on your group and leave your name to remember for all time! Underline the names that left, one way or another."

At first, it was a total joke. A graduating class came and went with no additions to the wall. Maybe they just couldn't find it. Eventually, someone posted it to a group chat. That picture then got spread eventually everyone in the highschool knew about it. Someone made a twitter account to keep updates on it. One day a duffel of spray paint appeared with a printed sticky note

'To help you out :)' Yes, it actually had a faggy smile-y face.

As spring approached, and the year above Stan and Kyle left, the twitter updated that some people actually did it. Next year it was done again suddenly it was write of passage for about 5 years until little siblings stopped spreading the word. It was probably still there to this day.

At least, Kyle hoped it was. He had invited Stan on an adventure which admittedly sounds a little cringey for someone in their late 20s to be saying. If they could find that old wall and just reminisce? That would be great, wouldn't it. he was on a corner of Main Street waiting for Stan. he looked up as the old toyota pulled into a spot by Medicinal Fried Chicken.

"Hey, dude. It's been a while huh?" Stan said, getting out of his car and locking it behind him.

"Yeah, I guess. You remember that old graffiti wall? It was around here." Kyle said, not really knowing how to segway the conversation into it.

"Oh- yeah. You, me, Kenny, and Cartman sprayed on it right? Man, we were so fucking excited."

"Yeah, well I was thinking maybe we could try and find it again? You know... for old times sake?"

"Sure, I mean.. why not?"

"Cool."

"...yeah."

Kyle gestured to follow him as the boys made their way to the construction site. It started way back and never seemed to actually get done. They followed the old directions, admittedly with more joint pain then when they were teenagers.

They came upon the old shipping container and through it they saw the duffel bag still laying beside a now eye scorching covered wall of graffiti. It had five years of graduating classes, plastered from top to bottom.

"Dude, I can't believe it's still here. Even the stupid sheets." Stan remarked.

"Yeah, crazy how some things seem to just.. stand still." Kyle stepped towards the wall, "There it is! All four of us."

"It actually is! 'Suck our Balls!' 'Eric, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny!' We were real dicks, huh?"

"It's kinda gay in hindsight."

"Not that gay, right?"

"It was very fucking gay." Kenny's voice rang through the shipping container behind them. Kyle and Stan both stood up, surprised at his sudden appearance. "To be fair, we did all smoke a shit ton before so, it's not like it was gonna be great."

"Kenny? Holy shit, I thought you died or something." Stan stood back, almost seemingly like he wasn't fully sure if Kenny was a ghost.

"Yeah..." Kenny shuffled slightly at the comment. He moved towards the graffiti of the four boy's names. "Apparently someone else thought so."

It was now that Stan and Kyle registered the underlines on some names. All four names were underlined in dark black spray. Close to Kenny's name was a tombstone with 'RIP' on it. More names were underlined then either expected, as they stepped back to look at the entire wall.

Some names weren't exactly surprising. Underneath 'Goth Kids Forever', all four of their names were underlined. Close by was 'Vamp kids rule' with Mike, Bloodrayne, and Larry's names underlined. Some were more confusing. Wendy's name was underlined despite her claiming that South Park would be her only home. They recognized some names, other they didn't know or were completely illegible by handwriting or age damage.

"Can't believe someone actually kept up with this old thing." Stan said, still partially dazed in the maze of spray paint.

"I still wonder who started it." Kyle said "Though, that's probably the same person if they care so much about keeping a record."

"Maybe it's Mysterion," Kenny joked as he leaned against the shipping container behind them. "or the underpants' gnomes, maybe even the crab people."

"Shit, I forgot about the crab people." Kyle said, "They made everyone metrosexual right? Those guys are dicks."

"Maybe the real crab people are the friends we made-"

"Oh shut up Kenny. That joke is so fucking annoying. I need a drink." Stan said, rubbing one his temples his hand.

"I'll agree to that. Kyle, you coming?"

"Sure. Why not?"

The boys exited out back to main street as the sun lowered itself below the mountains surrounding the town. Kyle didn't plan it this way and certainly didn't invite Kenny but in a way it went then he thought. Sure, he was reminded of the headache that was crab people, and those damn gnomes that kept them up for hours at Tweak's.

There was some melancholy in it though. Childhood was a fucking mess, not some perfect past time. He wanted to remember the best parts of it but really some his favorite memories were the console wars and coon and friends. The messy parts. The best parts.

Expect for the cent-ipad. That can burn in hell with Pip.

#south park #south park fuc #south park fic #fan fic #fan fiction #tumblr fanfic #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #kenny mccormick #south park aged up #possible style shipping #style?#take it however you want

0 notes

necrokingdom · 1 year

Note

🌿: An unpopular headcanon that I have ??

Headcanon Meme | Accepting!

I waited until I got home to answer this one because I have some thoughts. Like theoretically I could call this a Zorc headcanon but like I'm sorry man I just got so excited to talk about this.

Ok, follow me here (Memory World spoilers under the cut for whoever hasn't read/seen that):

Memory World is so full of interference that it suffers from Unreliable Narrator Syndrome™ and is impossible to discern whether any of these events actually happened.

Elaboration under the cut because otherwise this post will take up your entire dashboard.

So let's briefly recap the premise of Memory World.

In order to reclaim the Pharaoh's name, Yuugi and company must set the seven millennium items into the Tablet of the Pharaoh's Memories. As soon as this is completed, however, he finds someone else waiting in his soul room: Yami Bakura, who placed a piece of his soul in the pharaoh's puzzle earlier in the anime and manga. Now, the anime and manga establishes that Yami Bakura = Zorc (and TKB combined but the debacle on who was actually talking the entire time as Yami Bakura is a completely separate post) so it is reasonable to assume that Yami Bakura is, in this instance, a stand-in for Zorc. The rules of the Memory World are as follows:

The Pharaoh can only exist within the Memory World for the length of his memories. He must leave when those memories end.

Those who exist within this realm of memories must behave as they had in life. However, they are susceptible to influence from outside sources.

Those who enter the realm of memories and had existed within this realm are capable of changing the outcome.

Those who did not originally exist within this realm of memories may enter but cannot be seen by those that live within this realm of memories. However, they are capable of things such as flight and can summon Duel Monsters. But the Pharaoh's will can alter these abilities.

Note the bolded.

Number 3's purpose was to ensure Zorc's resurrection. Now, he could have bended these rules to ensure that only Yami Bakura/himself had sentience here and the Pharaoh was relegated to watching helplessly from the sidelines, but there's just one problem:

Zorc needs the Pharaoh's name: Atem.

And the only way he was going to get that was from Atem himself, who he knew was also looking for that information. If giving Atem autonomy meant allowing him to do the dirty work of digging that information out, so be it. HOWEVER, the unintended consequence of this was that by allowing Atem to enter and negotiate with the world around him, anyone could come in and start interfering. And interfere they did, holy shit.

Also something else to consider: Zorc knew that if he were to unload everything onto Atem at once to weasel that information out, it would likely cause a sensory overload and just drag this entire thing out. He had waited millennia for this and could taste the victory. So it wouldn't be outside the realm of possibility to manipulate some faces, places, and names to give Atem a sense of familiarity while also loosely maintaining what happened according to Atem's own words.

Atem is only human. Human memory is often not reliable. Did Atem ascribe every detail? Did he write down everyone's names, places in his court, their appearance, etc. in the off chance that this happened? The tablet is millennia old; the wear and tear of time is bound to erase passages and pictures. A tablet only holds so much. So Zorc had to borrow from the other soul he got stuck with for more information: Thief King Bakura.

Remember, TKB hates the dynasty for what they did to his home, his people. But would TKB have known who was responsible for that? Would he have known it was the pharaoh's uncle and not Atem? (Again, different debate, focusing on the main point). You could also argue that TKB never existed at all and was just a stand-in for Yami Bakura so Zorc could personally manipulate Atem into giving him the information he needs without giving sensory overload but again that's a different argument.

Also Zorc absolutely had incentive to lie to Atem within the bounds of the Tablet of Memories. We were never given the entirety of how the Tablet of the Pharaoh's Memories works.

TL;DR Yugi and company's personal interferences and Zorc's likely interferences and manipulation of information twisted the events depicted in Memory World so severely that we may never know if that's what actually happened or if that's what Zorc says happened.

The only people who will ever know the truth is Atem and his friends and family in the afterlife.

#THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TEDTALK #anonymous #♛ || Answered Headcanon Meme

0 notes

be-side-my-self · 2 years

Text

Just need to rant a bit, everyone feel free to ignore it, I‘m basically answering the anon from another blog how I actually want to answer them.

Hey, I'm sorry you searched for your OTP and found my blog with some points against your ship.

But congratulation on shitting into my inbox.

You come into my inbox and throw into my face that I like tweets against your ship? Congratulations for being obsessed like that? Would you prefer I retweeted them? I don‘t do that FOR A REASON. Because I don‘t want my followers to see „ship xy sucks and ship yz is so much better!“ but I want to show OP „hey! Here is a twitter for your ship! Maybe follow?“ and if they do, maybe they see next time I write:

„DON‘T ENGAGE! DON‘T GO TO WAR! STOP THE WANK!“

Because believe it or not, I don‘t fucking control the fandom. Everyone is a fucking individual. Fuck, I‘m not even the most popular twitter account for my ship!

No matter how many events I organise, how many tweets I retweet, how many facts and pictures I post, I only reach a fracture of the shippers.

But at least I try!

Because dude I‘m in this fandom for more than 15 years, and more than ten with the ship. I've written hundred thousands of words about them. I've written essays and fanfictions and headcanons.

Meanwhile I've seen ships come and go. I have seen fans come and go. I have seen people trying to attack my ship and all they got was getting fucking ripped a new one!

I stayed.

I continued to organise to be there, to interact to write and draw...

And still after all these years I fucking try to be better.

I started with the usual „what?! Why would you ship two guys?! They aren‘t gay!! They hate each other!!“ and now I‘m at „You want ro headcanon my otp as T4T and gay? Sure. Go for it! As long as you have fun who am I to judge?“

I went from „ugh, my NoTP is so fucking annoying and I want to tell everyone who ships it that they are wrong!“ to „ship and let ship.“

And still not once did I come to someones in-box and told them annoying shit.

I AM SUPPOSED TO STAY IN MY LINE?!

GET A FUCKING GRIP, KID!

You say you like the ship? Then go and enjoy it without the „toxic fans“. Because that is possible, smarty!!!

NO ONE IS MAKING YOU GO THROUGH OTHER PEOPLES LIKES.

Just look for fanart just look for fanfiction and don't fucking engage. It's that simple!

And if you don't like that than you obviously don't like the ship so just own up to your opinion and say as it is!

AND DON'T COME AT ME WITH OLD NEWS! Jesus christ, you want to fight toe to toe?! Come to my level first, you fucking beginner.

I have better arguments against my ship than any of you little wankers. And you know why? I have reread the fucking source material multiple times! Reread it every single time I had to figure something out!

You hate us fans? WELL NEWSFLASH: Trolls are invading our ranks, your ranks and everyones ranks! Do you know how often I asked someone to stop to be assholes under NoTP posts and then they outright said they aren't even in support of ANY SHIP?!

TOO OFTEN.

GO OUT AND LEARN FIRST! You want to argue against a fucking professor with your fist class education?!

Dude you can only wish for my fucking dedication.

And then I hope you never get it because I put too much time into this bullshit. Into lines and colours and pixels. Holy fuck it's not real.

You see something you don't like? Take a fucking breather and move on. Don't try to swim with the sharks you baby.

god damn it.

And then probably the same person comes into my in box again and goes "hey, you think the author though lol those stupid xyz shippers again"

NO! I DON'T THINK THAT. THE AUTHOR DOES NOT FUCKING CARE ABOUT THE SHIPPERS! THERE ARE TOO MANY!

THERE ARE HUNDRED OF CHARACTERS. EVERYONE IS SHIPPED WITH EVERYONE!

The author does not give a rats ass!!!

And I won't answer your troll attempt I won't let someone call the shippers of the other ship idiots on my blog when I try to keep peace.

FUCKER.

Call me "sanctimonious" all you want. I know what and why I am doing it.

God damn fandom kids. Get out! Touch grass! Enjoy the wind and calm the fuck down.

Jesus christ.

#personal #rant #stupid kid #fucking beginner #I'm so exhausted about this fucking wank #and the ships they find problematic #fucking seriously #you guys have no idea #in the beginning incest ships were normal #what the fuck are you guys talkin about 5 years age difference #god if you little shits knew about me shipping hackhearney you guys would probably skin me alive lol #mind why I have this blog now #jesus christ #god give me strength

0 notes

averykedavra · 3 years

Text

pairing: platonic anxceit

word count: 1351

warnings: hurt/comfort, open ending

“Do you ever feel like it went too fast?” Virgil asked, without looking up.

Janus glanced at him very quickly so Virgil wouldn’t notice. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do.” Virgil was reading something on his phone and bunching his hoodie around his wrists. As if he wanted to pretend this conversation wasn’t happening. “Acceptance. Redemption. Whatever. You got yours a while ago, and I just...I dunno. I wondered.”

“If it happened too fast?” Janus repeated, turning the words over in his head. “After years of isolation, I would say it didn’t come quickly enough.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what I mean,” Virgil said. “I mean the actual thing. ‘Cause when I got accepted, it was quick. Too quick. Like everyone just decided, right then, that I could be part of the party.”

Janus decided not to answer, just to see if Virgil would continue.

He did. “And it was like a state of emergency, then. You know? There wasn’t another option.” He pulled at his sleeve. “I know they care about me. I care about them. But...yeah. You know what I mean, right? It didn’t start out with them trying to help me. It wasn’t about me. I was hurting Thomas, it was a crisis.” Virgil’s voice dipped to a mumble. “Makes me think things have to hit rock bottom for any of us to change.”

Janus swallowed, and realized he was looking at Virgil again. He quickly looked away and busied himself with adjusting his gloves. “And what’s wrong with that methodology? Sometimes a wake-up call can trigger what’s needed.”

“You know what’s wrong with that!” Virgil sounded frustrated, but not like he usually did with Janus. Like he really, genuinely wanted Janus to understand. “If we wait until the eleventh hour, everything’s just gonna fester. Thomas is gonna improve jolt by jolt, and if stuff slips through the cracks, it’ll never get fixed! Just ‘cause stuff isn’t the worst it could literally be right now doesn’t mean it shouldn’t get better.”

“We can’t aim for perfection,” Janus said. “If we try to fix every tiny thing, no matter how inconsequential, at all times? I would definitely enjoy that kind of workload and vigilance. Sometimes you don’t need to be on your guard.”

“You’re calling me paranoid.” Virgil blew out a breath of air. It rustled his bangs. Janus was looking at him again--shit. “Maybe you’ve got a point. But maybe I’ve got one, too. There’s a middle ground between fix everything all the time because nothing’s good enough and let everything become a trash can until it spills over. Right?”

“Look at you, believing in a middle ground. How forward-thinking.” Janus couldn’t resist the jab. “Next you’ll tell me some people aren’t inherently evil. And, gasp! That two different perspectives can both be true!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all smug on me.” Virgil paused. “I’ve changed. You know that.”

“I definitely don’t,” Janus said. “And it wasn’t just because of one major crisis, was it?”

“What?”

“You pin your acceptance on a singular moment. As if the official words made it true, not the actions.” Janus looked up at the ceiling and kept his voice level. Virgil was right--honesty was easier when you didn’t acknowledge it. “Yet even before you were accepted, you had become one of the group. And afterwards, they worked to include you, help you, understand you. They worked with you. That’s your acceptance. It’s continuing to this day.”

Virgil cleared his throat. “So you’re just proving my point that we need to fix things bit by bit?”

“I’m saying we’re already doing that.” Janus huffed. “We could be better at it, obviously. But no change is a single isolated incident, and to think that your acceptance was only because of the emergency...” Janus trailed off. hoping he could get away without finishing the sentence.

“Yeah?”

Damn it, Virgil. “It’s lying to yourself,” Janus finished. “And it’s wrong.”

“Oh.” Virgil sounded very small, for a second. If they weren’t across the living room from each other--if they weren’t years away from friendship--Janus might have put a hand on his shoulder.

“You are here because they want you,” Janus said, the truth stinging his tongue. “Things are changing because you all want to be better.”

“And you?” Virgil asked after a quiet pause. “Do you...want to be better? Do you really feel like you’re not another crisis-induced 180 degree turn?”

Janus counted the cracks on the ceiling. Of course he didn’t feel that way. He belonged here, and it was only a matter of time before the rest of them realized that. He didn’t need to be better. He was the constant--the others had to change.

Or he needed to change to suit them, and he wouldn’t be able to. If he wasn’t good enough as is, he had no idea how to fix that.

Or maybe both things were true at once. All of them could be better. All of them could be worse.

“Sometimes I agree with you,” Janus finally said. “Sometimes I think that I am another friendship of convenience. Thomas needs me, so I am accepted. That there’s nothing more to it--that everyone has an agenda.” He sighed. “But unfortunately, I’m not cynical enough to believe that.”

“You like us,” Virgil said with a hint of a tease.

“Unfortunately,” Janus repeated, smirking at the ceiling. “I should distrust you all. I should treat this as a convenient exchange of affection for assistance. I should look at the years of isolation and say it could never be erased. But... there were moments, even before I was accepted, where change was starting to happen.”

“Not on my end.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Janus said. “You spoke to me and you looked me in the eyes. That was change.”

Virgil huffed.

“And hopefully, there will be more change.” Janus was thankful Virgil was not looking at him, because that meant Janus could smile. “And more rest, of course, because self-care is important. We should appreciate the way things are, not just toil over self-improvement.”

“Yeah, I used to think like that, too.” Virgil almost sounded fond. “But it’s not as much work as it seems like.”

“Oh, yes, transforming myself from the dastardly villain, befriending my former foes, and undoing years of distrust and lies is just a walk in the park.”

“What do you think you’ve been doing right now?”

Janus jerked his head around. Virgil was smirking at his phone.

“You’re literally doing it,” Virgil said, still smirking. “You’re literally improving yourself right now. ‘It’s so hard, woe is me’? Come off it, this is a polite conversation we’re having and you’re not covered in hives yet.”

“I resent your tone,” Janus said. “Do you think change will magically occur if I keep gaining friendship points through banter with you?”

“Probably can’t hurt.” Virgil thumbed at his phone and shrugged. “Like you said, actions speak louder than words.”

“Yes, no words are involved in this conversation right now.”

“You knew what I meant. Jackass.”

Janus rolled his eyes. Virgil still wasn’t looking at him, but Janus wasn’t looking away, and that was a start. “No, I totally didn’t.”

“Good,” Virgil said. “And I got what you were saying, too.” He waved a hand at Janus. “We’re talking and not killing each other. This is how acceptance works. Congrats.”

“A high bar.”

“For you and me? It’s progress.”

Janus settled on the couch and scuffed his feet on the carpet. The TV sat in front of them, blank and empty. Virgil was contorted comfortably in the recliner, scrolling on his phone again. They weren’t actually that far apart from each other, Janus realized. And Virgil didn’t seem to care.

Fine, maybe it was progress. Maybe this was how acceptance was supposed to feel--not one big, glorious epiphany. Not a half-baked speech as the plane was going down. Acceptance was steady and quiet and almost invisible, and it didn’t end for a long, long time.

Janus was alright with that.

“As a fair warning to the antisocial,” he said, turning on the TV, “I’m going to watch a few episodes of Avatar. Stay, or don’t, I hardly mind.”

Virgil paused and glanced up through his bangs. “Which episodes?”

“Only the filler episodes. If I see a hint of plot or character, I skip to the next one.”

“You’re the worst,” Virgil said, cracking a smile. “I’m in.”

#holy shit i'm posting writing everyone take a picture #sanders sides #janus sanders #virgil sanders #hurt/comfort #holy shit i can't actually believe im doin this #but i was tired and mushy and i was like why not drabble #and then. huh #this isnt my usual style it's not anything coherent it's just some words #might taglist this later. might not #but it feels good to write these guys again #especially when it feels like it's just for me #altho u guys can enjoy it too of course dhgshjksls #anyway. yeah idk what these tags are about but coming back to an interest when uve changed just a bit is fun <3 #u get to figure out what u liked and wanna keep with u #and i liked writing small dialogue shit like this so that's what i'm gonna do #at least this once. no promises on the rest of everything #but if u stuck around til the end of this post? or if u stuck around for way longer #i appreciate u a lot #and if i'm writing for anyone it's for u guys #thanks <3 #averywrites

402 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 3 years

Text

Payback

Rowaelin Month, Day Five

A/N: Yall I'm dying. I didn't even wanna write today and I kinda forced myself to and I'm not proud of myself for this but I just wanted you to have something so yep. Tomorrow's will be a lot angstier and sadder than this one, so soak up the very light fluff I'm giving you till you can

Signing off, goodnight yall

Word count: 3,614

Aelin hated the underground car park reserved for the residents of her building. It was dark, so narrow that you had to do at least a hundred swerves to avoid taking any corner and scratching off half your car, and it was impossible to find a spot when everyone came home in the evening after hours and hours in the office and parked as they saw fit while still thinking about the thousands of pieces of paperwork that would be waiting for them at their desks only nine hours later, sometimes taking up more than two spots at once.

The only reason she still tried to park down there was that there was a flock of pigeons in the trees just outside their block of flats, on the main road, which had made a nasty habit of shitting on anything - or anyone, on some unpleasant occasion - that stopped for more than five minutes under the thick branches. A perfect hiding place for birds, that no one had thought to warn her about when she had moved in only a few months earlier.

She had deemed herself lucky the night before, when she had returned before anyone else and found the lot completely empty. She'd been so happy that she'd driven around a bit down there just for the hell of it. She'd pulled up next to the exit, thinking it would be easier to get out the next morning.

She hadn't anticipated the three assholes who had parked so as to block her path in every conceivable way.

She grunted, banging her fist against the steering wheel when she realised she still wasn't clear, and put the car into reverse for the twelfth time, before changing gear and driving three inches forward. And so on, and on, and on, until she managed to steer the face of the car towards the exit and let out a satisfied howl.

She started up the slope towards the road, taking her eyes off the driveway and distracting herself for a moment to choose which radio to listen to, when the car hit something and the dull sound of the bang echoed throughout her body, propelling her forward.

Aelin squealed, hitting the brakes hard enough to cause a high-pitched squeal, and soon the smell of burnt plastic filled her nostrils.

The car shut off and she pulled the handbrake vehemently, getting out of the car and trying to figure out which wall she had hit, already cursing every deity that had ever existed. She didn't have enough money to afford a repair, and she knew perfectly well that the dent would be there for months before she let any of her friends help her.

She wrinkled her brow, noticing how no side of the car was touching walls or columns.

"What the..."

And then she heard it, a grunt of pain.

She opened her eyes wide, running around the car and finding a man on the ground.

To the view of a head full of stark white hair, the fear she’d just ran over one of the oldies that lived on her floor stuck her. But then the person got up on their elbows and she let go of a sigh of relief.

But still, she had just runapartment someone over. She hurried his way.

"Oh, fuck." said Aelin, approaching the stranger. The man pulled himself up to sit, bringing a hand to his face, on his cheek, where a cut was bleeding profusely on his shirt.

"Holy shit." muttered the guy, looking up at her, "That hurt."

Aelin was frozen in time, her hands to her gaping mouth, looking for the right words.

When he tried to stand, swaying a little, she pushed through the fog in her mind and truly looked at him, searching other injuries, but not failing to notice his sheer handsomeness.

The man looked like he’d been made in heaven.

She shook her head, mentally reprimanding herself – now was not the time – and started talking.

“I’m so so so sorry. I didn’t see you there and- oh god, you’re bleeding. You need me to rush you to the hospital? Fuck, you think you broke something?” the words just kept flowing and flowing. “Where were you even going? Why didn’t you just got out of the main entrance? This fucking parking lot. I swear we have to call the landlord and have him put some lights down here. Your shirt,” she grimaced, eyeing the blood standing out on the white fabric. Aelin looked him in the eye, “I have a very similar one upstairs? You want me to go fetch it for you, I could-”

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled, putting his hands in between them, forcing her to step back, “Shut the fuck up!”

Aelin’s mouth closed shut and her eyebrows raised so high she felt her skin pull on her temples. She crossed her arms over her chest. Her eyes popping out.

This man. Sure, she’d just ran him over, but no one had ever talked to her like that.

“I’m fine.” he grumbled, “And I live in this building, I’ll go take my own shirt, thank you.” He took a deep breath, brushing off his trousers and bending to gather his stuff that had scattered around during his fall. When he lifted his head again, he gave her a tight smile and his piercing green eyes stared at her with an intensity that had Aelin’s toes curling in her shoes.

“Have a nice day.”

He then proceeded to walk away, leaving Aelin alone in the darkish driveway.

She looked around, hoping to see someone who could confirm that it had just been a figment of her imagination, but there was no one.

Getting back in her car, Aelin started the engine and drove up to the street, chewing on her lips, “What the fuck just happened?”

***

Aelin had thought all day about the mysterious man. She hadn’t been able to focus during her meetings and hadn’t even finished one of her projects. Something that she sure as fuck knew her boss would make her notice and work her ass off to make up for once word got to him.

Her day had started off so bad she knew it couldn’t get any worse, but she’d been wrong.

Her assistant had spilled coffee over her only finished drawing and herself. One of her coworkers had decided today was the perfect day to quit her job and pile her projects on Aelin’s desk. Then she’d gone out for lunch with some of her friends and it had started raining so heavily she’d been forced to stay in the office, only eye-eating the mouth-watering dishes her friends had posted on their instagram stories. They’d made it to the diner just before the sky cracked open.

And, the cherry on top, someone had keyed her car.

She’d been on the verge of tears when she’d spotted the red stains of her neighbor’s blood on the parking lot floor when she got back home, but she didn’t let any fall.

She had a date.

And she wouldn’t let all these little things get to her and ruin what could possibly be the best night of her life.

One of her life-long best friends had set her up on a blind date with one of her boyfriend’s best friends. She’d promised the man was the perfect match, someone Elide thought would keep her on her toes and match her overflowing personality.

Aelin had been hesitant at first when Elide hadn’t wanted to give her a name, or show her a picture, claiming she’d go all FBI style on him and ruin their first meeting, but she’d also promised Aelin she’d met the guy a few times and he’d been nothing but a gentleman.

And she had heard so much of him she felt like she’d known him her whole life.

Some of the things Elide had told her, she’d liked better if she’d found directly from him, but Aelin was a picky woman and she wasn’t risking another date with a creeper.

She pulled up in the restaurant’s parking lot where Elide had reserved the four of them a table and turned off her car, clutching the wheel. She took a deep breath. And another.

She was still a little worked up and all the pent-up emotions of the day were threatening to spill over the surface any minute, but she could make it past dinner and then have her little monthly breakdown in the peace and quiet of her apartment.

She fixed her lipstick, tightened up her ponytail and let two strands of hair cascade on the side of her face. She blew herself a kiss in the mirror, “You can do it.” she whispered as a short pet talk.

She got off the car, pulled out her phone to check if Elide was already inside and she was so focused on the screen she failed to notice someone backing up right in front of her until it was too late.

The car only bumped into her hip, but it was enough to make her lose her balance.

Aelin merely had time to register what was happening that she found herself lying in a puddle of rain and mud. She closed her eyes at the dull pain on the back of her head, but she knew for a fact the hit hadn’t been that bad.

She lifted her arms up, looking down at the wet spots on her dress, darkening by the second. Her seventy euros purse soaking up the water all around her.

The tension behind her eyes just increased when she heard the driver’s door open and someone step out of the car. She couldn’t have stopped the sobs even if she wanted to.

“Miss? Oh god, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

Strong arms circled her waist and pulled her up in a standing position. She brought her hands to her face, her body now racked by her crying as she tried to get a handle of herself.

“Miss?” the voice called again, now nearer. “Are you hurt? I didn’t-” the man talking stopped suddenly and Aelin looked up, not seeing anything through the tears. “You.”

And then it hit her.

That voice.

She knew that voice.

She ran her hand over her face, rubbing her eyes and staring right back at the man she had ran over that same morning.

Her mouth fell open.

He was looking at her with an amused expression and Aelin couldn’t find the words once again.

What was it with this man and his ability to take her ability to talk by just showing up?

He had a transparent band-aid on his cheek, his cut far less severe than she had thought, and his eyes were glistening with mirth. He was wearing a simple black pair of jeans and a dark green t-shirt, but he was even more handsome than in his work clothes.

Aelin was taking rushed, trembling breaths, and she was about to kill this man with her bare hands. Shred his skin off his bones and have him beg-

“I guess we’re even now, uh?”

His attempt of a joke flew over her head and she charged at him, a scream lodged in her throat.

His eyes widened and he took a step back when she flung her arm at him, trying to hit him. His hands closed around her wrists, blocking her from causing him more harm that she’d already done.

“You asshole!” she was screaming at the top of her lungs. “You ruined my dress!”

Aelin lifted a leg, more than convinced to kneel his balls, but he managed to block her blow again, infuriating her even more.

“I was about to meet the love of my life and ruined my fucking dress!”

He tried to push her away from him, still squeezing her wrists, and his brow furrowed.

“He’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of. He’s a pediatrician! He loves children! And he has a cute fucking dog my friend said I would love and cuddle the shit out of! Her name is Fleetfoot and she’s a golden retriever and Elide knows I fucking love goldens. And he’s from Orynth, just. Like. Me!” she got louder and louder with every word she spit out. “And he’s tall, and handsome and he’s the perfect match! And I deserved this one night!”

The man was now looking at her with a dumbfounded expression, his hold slightly loosening.

“I’m so done with this dating thing and I’d finally found him and you!” she shoved a finger in his chest, making him retreat a few steps. “You wanted your payback so bad you ran me over with your car!

“And now he’s gonna take one look at me and think I’m a fucking psycho! I bet my hair are the most disgusting thing he’s ever seen and my make up. Oh fuck, I must look like a panda.” Aelin started crying harder, laying her hands flat on the man’s torso, pushing her head to his chest. “I look like a fucking panda.”

She tried to speak again but her mind just couldn’t form any coherent thought, until she felt the man’s arms closing around her shoulders. He stepped closer, running his hand up and down her back, whispering something she couldn’t really hear over her crying.

Aelin didn’t know how much time she spent in the stranger’s embrace, but when the gravity of the scene she’d just made in front of him downed on her, she felt her body flare up in embarrassment.

That was her life now?

Having mental breakdowns in a dark parking lot after someone she’d ran over with her car had returned the gesture and then making them console her?

She detached herself from the man and for a second she thought she’d felt him hesitate before he took a step back. And another, leaving her standing her in her soaking wet dress and her puffy, surely-red eyes. He bent down, picking up her purse and handing it to her.

She lowered her gaze, not even daring looking at his shoes and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry.”

The man made a sound of surprise, “Why would you be sorry?”

Aelin wished she could die on the spot. Evaporate out of existence.

“For hitting you. Or at least trying. And crying all over you.” she said and then grimaced. She ran a hand over her face. “I just had a very hard day and I wasn’t even sure I wanted to come, but this guy seriously seems like he could be the missing piece to whatever the fuck my puzzle-life is. I didn’t want to take a raincheck and have him thinking I’m not serious about this.”

A beat of silence, “I’m sure he would have understood.”

She shook her head, keeping on talking as if he hadn’t even been there, “And now I can’t go in like this.” she passed her hands on her dress, the tears building up again in her eyes. “Plus, Elide didn’t tell me what he looks like, cause she thinks he’s a real snack and wanted to see my face when I saw him for the first time.” she was bordering on pouting, “That means he’s gotta be smoking hot or I’ll be so pissed at her.”

The man snorted loudly, “A snack.” he hummed, “Maybe I should meet your friend and thank her.”

Aelin’s head snapped up, “Oh no, she’s taken.” she shook her head vehemently, “Like so freaking taken. I swear she and her boyfriend have been together for a whole of three months and they already act like a married couple.”

He nodded, a lopsided smile on his face, “I know the kind.”

She’d been so absorbed by her talking that she hadn’t noticed she’d stopped crying.

She breathed through her nose and clasped her hands together, before reaching one out towards him, “I think introductions are needed. I’m Aelin.” she offered a tentative smile.

His hand engulfed hers, shaking it with impressive gentleness. His smile grew even larger if possible and Aelin was starting to think she was about to het murdered.

But then he said his name and the world ceased existing around them.

Their hands still moving up and down between them.

She tilted her head forward, “I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”

He licked his lower lip, “I’m Rowan.”

Aelin closed her eyes, holding her breath.

She squeezed his hand before releasing it. She took a step back, wishing for the ground beneath her feet to crack open and just eat her whole.

“I’m gonna go kill myself now, if you’ll excuse me.”

His laugh reached her ears with painful speed.

Rowan.

She couldn’t believe it.

Well, she could. The man laughing his heart out at her expense was probably the most handsome person she’d ever seen in her entire life.

At least Elide hadn’t lied about that.

“A tad dramatic, if you ask me,” he said as his laugh died down. He pointed at the restaurant behind him, “You want me to go fetch the married couple so we can go back at the appartment and you can change? I’m not against you walking in there with this outfit at all,” he gave a pointed look, matched by a shit-eating grin that seemed to be etched in his lips, “I’m not gonna think you’re a psycho, not for this at least, and I’m ready to fight everyone who looks at you the wrong way. But you look like you could use the comfort of a warm house.”

Aelin looked up at him with a questioning look, trying to understand if this man she’d just tried to maul was seriously offering her options, letting her choose after everything that had gone down so far between the two of them. As if still giving her a chance.

Rowan arched a brow, looking around and glancing back at her, “Aelin?”

Oh, fuck.

She had been oh so not ready o hear her name from his lips.

She nodded and he smiled, leaning down a bit.

She could smell his cologne from here.

“Yes to what? Me calling Lorcan and Elide or getting inside even if you dripping wet?”

Holy fucking shit, this man shouldn’t have been allowed to say the words dripping wet.

She stilled herself.

What the hell was she thinking? She brought her hands to her face, “Please call them and let’s head home. I’m so fucking tired.” a yawn broke her sentence, as to prove her words, “And I’m freezing in this skimpy dress.”

Rowan rushed to her side, “Oh, god, sorry for not offering sooner, here,” he opened the trunk of his car and pulled out a huge blue sweater. Without even waiting for an answer he snatched her purse from her hands and shoved her head in his sweater.

Aelin felt better right away and gave him a big smile.

Rowan answered with one of his own and of course he had to be this perfect and more.

“I’m sorry for ruining your dress, I’ll make sure they wash it carefully when I take it to the laundry. If you’d let me.”

She nodded faintly, exhaling the panty-dropping smell of his sweater.

“And I’m hoping to see you wear it again once we finally get to go on a proper date.” he smirked, “I bet you looked amazing before I went and ran you over.”

Aelin chuckled, shaking her head, “You truly are a gentleman. Elide wasn’t exaggerating.”

Rowan’s demeanor changed completely and Aelin feared she’d said something wrong, but he averted his gaze as if he was embarassed.

“I’m sorry for this morning,” he said. Aelin almost tripped on her feet. He was sorry? “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that but I was just coming back from the hospital and Elide was right saying I work with kids, but I’m not a pediatrician, I’m a pediatric surgeon.”

His gaze grew dark as he looked over her shoulder, avoiding meeting her eyes at all costs.

“Yesterday night we lost a eight years old and I wasn’t really there when you hit me with your car. I didn’t mean to yell at you like I did, it was just-”

Rowan couldn’t finish his sentence that Aelin lunged for him, hugging him as tight as he’d held her a few minutes before, hoping she could relieve some of the pain that was surely clutching his heart. She felt him sag in her arms and hold her in turn.

She was glad she could offer some kind of support.

“It must be hard.” she whispered against his chest.

Rowan nodded, hitting her head with his chin, “It is, but it’s part of the job. The only way you can live with something like that in your baggage is knowing you did everything you could to save them.”

Aelin could feel the emotion lacing his every word and tightened her arms for a moment before freeing him of her embrace. He silently thanked her and told her he’d be right back with their friends.

The second he was gone she realized she couldn’t wait for when he’d be back and they could keep talking.

She’d never felt this way before. Not this fast at least.

Sure, she had loved all her exes, but this. This was different.

There was something there, a connection.

And while he walked back to her, Lorcan and Elide in tow, a bright smile on his handsome face, she couldn’t help but think she was ready to find out all about it.

tog tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@maastrash @ireallyshouldsleeprn @sleeping-and-books @hellasblessed @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @letstakethedawn @terrible-and-proud @post-it-notes33 @booksstorm @nalgenewhore @queen-of-demons-and-hell @lanyjoy-13 @vasudharaghavan @cupcakey00 @bri-loves-sunflowers @queen-of-glass @thewayshedreamed @the-regal-warrior @fangirlprincess09 @januarystears @rowaelinismyotp @starbornsinger @bookstantrash @thegreyj @feysand-loml @autumnbabylon @a-court-of-milkandhoney @highqueenofelfhame @story-scribbler @mariamuses

#rowaelinmonth #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #rowaelin month day five #tog #throne of glass #rowaelin fic

117 notes · View notes

ironwoodprotectionsquad · 2 years

Note

just saw a take in the anti-rwde tag so bad i had a whole allergic reaction /hj

it was about how rewrites are NEVER good because it ignore's the writers' work, and that if you make rewrites you never actually enjoyed the content.

like okay, i guess AU writers hate the content they pull from! because AUs do technically count as rewrites, just probably not what OP was thinking of (*cough* fixing rwby *cough*). actually, technically all fanfics are rewrites to some degree! fuck it! everyone who writes fanfic is actively ignoring the writers' hard work! damn!

sorry for disagreeing, but i personally think making rewrites means you're more passionate than if you were to just passively consume the content you were given! because you're putting effort into ignored characters, dropped plot threads, unexplored worldbuilding and lore, etc.! who are you to judge if someone's way of appreciating content is wondering how things could have gone differently, expanding on what the writers' didn't pay attention to? there is NOTHING WRONG with wanting to rewrite something, whether it's because you're just curious about how things could go differently or if you're unsatisfied with what you got. hell, even the rewrites i HATE i still hold some respect for because damn, take it from someone who tried and gave up, making rewrites is HARDDDD, ESPECIALLY for a show like rwby with so many characters and other factors to take into consideration

anyway, sorry for ranting in your askbox lol, i'm just so....jesus christ that take made me MAD.

Hey anon! First off never EVER apologize for ranting in my inbox! I don’t mind, I know sometimes venting out your frustrations can help you feel better. I do that a lot on my blog when something annoys me so I get how therapeutic it can be.

Secondly I have never gone into the anti-rwde tag because I know I would die after a few posts. I will stick to the RWDE and James Ironwood tags where I belong lolZ.

Regarding the meat of this ask, holy shit I just- why just why? How can you look at a show like RWBY that regularly and actively takes things like themes and character arcs and say that someone making a rewrite doesn’t love the original subject? People don’t waste time on things they don’t care about. We have limited free time to do shit we’re not going to waste it working on a project that does absolutely nothing for us.

I have a morbid curiosity for what they think of AUs because how this person describes it, they should be even worse then rewrites because aus fundamentally completely overturn what the original work was. It’s all about taking the characters you love and plopping them in something completely different from their canon universes. It is literally about exploring the infinite possibilities that a universe holds. Personally I almost exclusively write in Aus in anything longer then a one or two shot. They’re just so much more interesting to me to explore because I love seeing how minor things change the bigger picture and what these characters do.

Hey you know everyone is allowed to have their own opinions and they literally don’t hurt anyone just like how rewrites and AU’s aren’t hurting anyone. They’re a way someone expresses their love for whatever it is the rewrite or Au is for just like fanart. Just because their are certain things one would change doesn’t mean they still don’t enjoy the base media the rewrite is for. Their is always something that we love in it what’s why we create for it.

I may not like every rewrite or au or whatever for any fandom I love but I still respect the work put into it because these fics take a lot of work and time and effort and writers do this for free. Their is no way to get any compensation for fic writing yet people do it anyways because they love the thing being written about and this is how they express that love. That whole sentiment is just insane for me and reeks of a mega fan refusing to understand that their precious show might not be perfect and that sometimes people might have a better idea for something. Or even if it isn’t it still has value and these mega fans are just wrong about it not having value. As I said it takes time and effort and people won’t waste time on something they don’t care about or enjoy it helps no one and trying to pretend otherwise is just insane to me.

#rwde #rwby crititical #rwby critique #fans behaving badly #fndm behaving badly #answered ask #anon ask

16 notes · View notes

annoyed-galaxy · 3 years

Text

Post-Destroy Ending

I bring from the grave of the beyond a fix-it fic serving up fresh angst and some fluff. Mass Effect destroyed my heart and with that major fucking cliffhanger, I just had to write something. But since there's a lot, I decided to break this up into chapters. Well, who knows how many chapters there will be, but just stick around I'm sure you'll have a great time. My writing is still rusty as hell, but I needed to get SOMETHING out. Anyways enjoy this! It's also on AO3 if you want that link.

Go!

It was the last thing she had ordered when she ran off into the jaws of death. He hated watching her go. Hated seeing her run back towards the beam with Harbinger raining down death. Tali had to tear him away from watching her run, dragging him back into the Normandy.

Garrus was on his fourth bottle of alcohol. The other three bottles were littered across Shepard’s nameplate. He ran his fingers across each letter of her name. It had been a couple weeks and Garrus still refused to put her name on the memorial wall. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he sure as hell wasn’t letting someone else do it.

They were still grounded on the uncharted world they had crashed into after the blast from the Citadel. While the Normandy was relatively fine, there were still some repairs that had to be made. There was also the issue with EDI. When the blast caused the Normandy to crash, EDI had suddenly collapsed, no longer functioning. Whatever the blast was, it didn’t kill just the Reapers.

The mass relays were destroyed, comm buoys were in pieces, so communication was very limited. Whatever happened back on Earth, whether people had recovered or not, was not making it to the Normandy anytime soon. The Reapers were defeated, but at what cost?

The door to the lounge opened and Liara sat next to Garrus. She grabbed a bottle of wine and began to pour herself a glass. “How are you feeling?” she asked, taking a sip.

Garrus grumbled to himself. He was drunk, his mind fuzzy and numb. “I’m fine,” he mumbled.

Liara nodded, not buying his story, but knew he hadn’t been okay in a while. “Tali has been working on EDI. She also brought Glyph back. In return, Glyph has been helping Tali with bringing EDI back,” Liara explained, hoping some good news would brighten his mood.

He looked at her, his face plates shifting. Part of him was annoyed that she would bring that up, knowing the possibility of Shepard truly being gone was most likely. But he was happy for Joker at the very least. “That’s good,” he mumbled, returning to his drink.

Liara frowned, worry crossing her face. “Garrus...I know you’re hurting, but...” Liara stopped herself. She didn’t know what to say. “I’m sorry, Garrus. I know Joker has been talking about trying to make it back to Earth. But with the mass relays out, who knows how long it’ll be until we get there. Communications have been scrambled too.” Liara put a hand on his back. “It’s going to be okay Garrus. I promise.”

He stayed silent. He had nothing to say. He wanted to go back to Earth, back to the Citadel. He wouldn’t put Shepard’s name on the memorial wall until he had seen her cold corpse himself.

After a few minutes of silence, Liara finally decided it would be best to leave the turian to his sulking. She left with comforting parting words.

༻✧༺

“There’s a body over here!”

Her head was pounding. There were noises. Faint. Distant. Her body burned, stung, felt battered and bruised. She was breathing, but it stung. The voices came closer. She could no longer make out words, but she saw blinding lights come into view. She felt a weight lift from her, probably some rubble, and she couldn’t make out any faces. There were just blurred shapes and bright lights.

“Holy shit, it’s Commander Shepard!”

More shapes rushed over to her. Rubble was being dragged off of her. The light began to fade, her breathing slowing. She felt something cover her nose and mouth. Air filled her easily now. Her eyes fluttered shut and the noise faded away.

༻✧༺

“EDI!” Joker cried out as the robot sat up, blinking. He hugged her, tears forming in his eyes.

“Hello, Jeff,” EDI replied, slightly confused. She returned the hug, tentatively patting his back. He moved out of the way, allowing her to stand on her feet. “What happened?” she asked, looking around the room. She was in the AI core, Tali, Liara, and Glyph all stationed behind Joker, watching with held breaths as she was brought back to life.

“The blast from the Citadel took you out,” Joker explained, his arms on her shoulders. “But the Reapers were taken down too. Tali and Glyph have been working day in and day out to bring you back.”

EDI looked back at Tali and Glyph and smiled. “Thank you, you two. I did not realize I had...died.” EDI looked down at her hands, stretching her robotic fingers. “It felt like I had just stopped working. There was no afterlife.”

Joker put a finger under her chin, lifting her eyes to meet his. “It’s okay, you’re here now.” She smiled and took his hand.

“So what did I miss?” she asked, as they left the AI core. Awkward glances were shared between Tali and Liara.

Joker cleared his throat and took EDI to the bridge of the ship, letting her settle back into her usual co-pilot seat. The door to the cockpit closed as Tali and Liara stepped in. “Shepard activated the Crucible,” Joker began to explain. “Whatever it did, it destroyed the Reapers and other synthetic lives including you. But it also destroyed the mass relays and left comm buoys in scrambles. We’ve been stuck on an uncharted world for about a month now, trying to get you working again.”

“We didn’t feel safe, nor comfortable, taking off without you working again,” Liara added, offering a small smile to EDI. “That and the fact that the Normandy is currently offline.”

“You keep the Normandy in full function,” Tali tagged on.

Joker nodded. “Now that you’re back online, we’re hoping to make it back to Earth. The only issue with that is...”

“We don’t know how far away we are, nor how long would it take, or if we could even get there via FTL,” Liara explained, her voice low and sad.

“Is there a specific reason to going back to Earth?” EDI asked, pure innocence and naiveness in her robotic eyes.

Joker looked at Tali and Liara, asking for some backup with his eyes. Tali rubbed her hands together nervously. “We want to try and find Shepard.”

EDI tilted her head. “Is Shepard alive?”

The three of them exchanged looks once more. “We...we don’t know,” Liara sighed. “But Garrus seems determined to find out.”

EDI lowered her head. “Oh. Right. Garrus and Shepard were in a romantic relationship weren’t they?” Everyone nodded. “I will begin to run diagnostics on the ship then, to see what repairs will be required to get us off the ground once more,” EDI said, more optimistic and hopeful. It seemed to work as Joker, Tali, and Liara smiled a little more.

“I’ll let Garrus know,” Liara said before leaving the cockpit. She went to the crew deck, in the lounge looking for Garrus, but he wasn’t there. She went to the other side, the starboard observatory, but he wasn’t there either. She went to the main battery, wondering if he had gone back to calibrating to distract him, but he wasn’t there either. Liara could think of only one other place he would be grieving in.

As she suspected, the door to Shepard’s cabin was open, a somber tune of a piano playing through the speakers as she stepped out of the elevator. Laying on the bed was Garrus, a picture in his hand. Liara could tell it was the picture of the Normandy crew they had taken back on the Citadel. “Good news, Garrus,” Liara greeted, standing next to the fish tank. He looked up at her, his mandibles parting in curiosity. “EDI is back online. She is going to run a systems check and see what it will take to get us back to Earth.”

Garrus sat up, putting the picture on one of the bedside tables. “That’s what everyone wants to do?” he asked, not looking at her, still looking at the picture.

Liara moved closer, sitting on the end of the bed. “Garrus, you’re not the only one who wants to find Shepard. I, for one, do not want to see her name on that wall either. I want to at least see her body if she is...gone.”

Garrus snorted. “Weren’t you the one who recovered her body last time? After the Normandy’s first destruction?”

Liara nodded. “I was. Until I found her, I never lost hope. Even when I recovered her body, I still didn’t lose hope, especially since Cerberus planned to bring her back. I thought it was crazy, but they did it.” Liara smirked. “Death and Shepard are not good friends. She defies him at every turn.”

“I just...I don’t want to put her name on that damned wall. Because if I do, then it may be as well saying she’s gone. I...can’t accept that.” Garrus’s voice faltered, weak and strained. Liara couldn’t hear his sub-vocal very well, but she knew it was worse than his regular voice. She knew the pain of losing Shepard would be hard on him.

“Then let’s hope we can make it to Earth soon,” Liara comforted, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

He silently nodded as she left the cabin.

༻✧༺

Another month had passed by, the Normandy was still grounded, but basic functions were online. Power kept the basic necessities alive, powering Liara’s room where she spent most of her time, using her Shadow Broker resources trying to gauge the aftermath of the Reaper War. No matter how much she tried to get any information, with comm buoys out of commission and them being on an uncharted world, anything she received was scarce at best. She still had received no status about the Citadel, Earth, or what state the galactic civilization was in. The only information she could glean, was what everyone already knew; the Reapers were dead and the mass relays were broken.

Voices were raised in concern about food supplies. There was still plenty of food for everyone, including Tali and Garrus, but supplies would run out soon if they didn’t restock. James, Cortez, Tali, Garrus, and Javik all decided to explore the uncharted world in hopes to find some food. Tali had a scanner in her suit that could identify whether something was poisonous and dextro-friendly or not. The only thing they had managed to find was some berries for everyone except the quarian and turian.

“Great, we’re going to be living off berries,” James groaned, picking the bright red fruits from the bush Tali had just scanned.

“Be lucky we found anything at all,” Tali retorted. “Garrus and I still have to find food that we can eat.”

“To be fair, you guys are the only dextros on board so you’re not going through your supply as fast,” Cortez pointed out.

“Hopefully we won’t run out in general,” Garrus said, looking aimlessly at the horizon. The system’s sun was equal to the sun, Sol, providing the same warmth and light on this world’s surface.

“If we do run out of food, we can just eat one another,” Javik suggested. Everyone turned and looked at the Prothean.

“Of course the Prothean would say that,” James cackled. “Talking about salarian soup and shit.”

“Let’s try to avoid that outcome,” Cortez suggested.

The idle conversation continued as the group continued looking for more food.

“Liara.” EDI stepped into the Shadow Broker’s cabin, her arms behind her back as she waited patiently for the asari to notice her.

“What is it EDI?” Liara looked up from her computer screen, frustration painted on her face.

“I found something. Upon doing an internal scan of the Normandy, I discovered a signal that was sent about two months ago. A distress signal,” EDI explained.

Liara looked at EDI in curious surprise. “Oh?”

EDI motioned for Liara to follow back up to the bridge of the Normandy. Joker was sitting in his pilot’s seat, the seat turned to face the door of the cockpit. His hands were templed together and worry was bright across his face. “Jeff and I have already listened to the signal. I had to clear it up in order to understand it since the signal was so ruined.” EDI explained as she stood next to Joker.

“Keep in mind, it’s two months old,” Joker grumbled as EDI used her omni-tool to play the signal.

There was a lot of crackling in the beginning and then a cough. “Help...” Liara strained to listen to the static in the voice. “This is...Com...mander...Shep...ard. I’m...still alive...Please help...” The signal cut off then with one more cough from the sender.

Liara’s eyes widened as EDI and Joker looked up at her to gauge her reaction. “Don’t get your hopes up. The signal is two months old,” Joker repeated.

“Do you...do you know if this signal was received by anyone else?” Liara asked, her voice soft and quiet. It was hard to determine what her reaction was.

“No. As I said, I just received this signal when I was doing diagnostics on the Normandy,” EDI answered. “I cannot determine if the signal was sent to any available ships or if it was sent to the Normandy specifically.”

Liara crossed her arms, bringing a hand to her chin, stroking it thoughtfully. There was a reason Joker reiterated the fact that the signal was two months old. With no knowledge of whether or not the signal was received by anyone else, there was no guaranteeing Shepard was alive. Liara sighed. “There’s nothing we can do about it. But whatever you do, don’t show it to Garrus. Unless we can find out whether or not the signal was received by someone else, there is no reason to bank our hopes on this.”

Joker nodded. “I agree. And honestly, Liara? As much as I want to hope...I don’t think she made it.”

Liara smiled sadly. “We can only hope she did, Jeff.”

༻✧༺

Not sure if turian heaven is the same as yours, but if this thing goes sideways and we both end up there...meet me at the bar.

She was standing in the forest. There was no child there this time. No copy of herself. She was alone. There were voices surrounding her. She looked around. Her body didn’t hurt. She couldn’t feel anything. There was a bar on the opposite end of the forest. She could have sworn she saw a turian sitting on one of the stools, a bottle in its hand.

Her legs began moving, but like all the other dreams, she moved slowly, felt weighed down by a crushing force of gravity, moving impossibly slow.

Shepard.

She heard his voice again. All around the forest. She reached out towards the turian sitting at the bar. She wanted to call out for him, but her throat tightened and no sound escaped. Fire started to form around the turian and the bar.

Not again. Please. Not again.

Come back alive. It’d be an awfully empty galaxy without you.

The flames consumed the bar and the turian, just as his head turned to look at her; the blue eyes, the blue colony marking across his face, his visor, his mandibles parting at the sight of her.

We’re in this until the end.

She tried crying out, but the flames consumed him and the noise of the Reapers echoed all around her. A bright flash of red came into her view. She felt sluggish as she brought her arms up in a futile attempt to block the beam from disintegrating her. But the pain never hit.

༻✧༺

Six months had passed since the Reaper War ended. Food supplies had started to run short, even for the dextros on the Normandy. Despite all the exploring the adventuring party had done, they still found nothing more except for berries for everyone else. However, progress on getting the Normandy back online was going well. EDI had predicted that the Normandy would be airborne within the week.

The mood on the ship was tense. Everyone was excited to be airborne again. Garrus still kept Shepard’s nameplate close to him. People stopped talking about the possibilities of Shepard’s fate, not wanting to further upset the turian and the rest of her close friends. Games of poker were used to distract crew members from the low running food supplies and the restlessness of being grounded for so long on an uncharted world.

“Man I can’t wait to get the hell off this planet,” James chattered, fixing himself a plate of berry flavored scrap food. “We’re pretty much out of food and have been surviving off of berries and MREs for six goddamn months. We haven’t been getting nearly enough proteins we need in a daily meal.” He sat down at the lunch table where the other crew members sat. Tali and Garrus looked at him pointedly. He lifted his shoulders. “What? You guys still have food.”

Tali scoffed. “Barely. There wasn’t that much dextro-food compared to your guys’ food. So we started running out around the same time you guys did.”

Cortez smiled, offering some hope around the table. “It’s okay guys. EDI said we should be taking off here soon.”

“Yes, but how long until we get to a known system?” James countered. “The mass relays are still screwed and we haven’t even received communications in forever.”

“Not to worry,” piped the synthetic voice of EDI who had just rounded the corner of the mess room. Liara stood next to her, a small smile on her face. “Communications have been reestablished.”

Liara sighed softly. “The only problem is that the communications we do receive are delayed. Say, if something was sent four months ago, we would just be receiving it now, or later. So any news we do get is going to be late.”

“Fantastic,” Garrus mumbled, looking down at his plate. He had barely touched his food and Tali was half-tempted to snag what he didn’t eat.

“Getting communications up at all is a start,” EDI admitted. “As I said, it shouldn’t be long before I can get the Normandy back into full motion.”

“Please hurry,” James begged, leaning back in his chair. “I’m sick and tired of this planet. If we had more resources, I wouldn’t mind living here. But I’m gonna lose it if I managed to survive the Reapers just to die to starvation six months later.”

Cortez raised a glass towards James. “Cheers to that.”

Liara rolled her eyes just as Specialist Traynor rushed around the corner. “Everyone! Come quick! I just received a message from Admiral Hackett!”

Everyone perked up a bit at that statement. Most of the communications they received were garbage or were so insignificant that Liara had immediately deleted them. But a message from Admiral Hackett? This had to be good.

Everyone rushed to the elevator, cramming inside of it before stepping out into the CIC. Traynor rushed over to her computer and pulled up the message. “I haven’t listened to it yet, I just saw who it was from and decided to call everyone up.” Joker was leaning on the opposite side of Traynor, by Shepard’s personal computer. There was a glint of hope in his eyes at the news of the message from Hackett.

Admiral Hackett played a huge part in the Reaper War, commanding the forces that brought the Crucible to the Citadel. If he was sending a message directly to the Normandy, then hopefully it was good news. Or news in general.

The message came up, but the frequency was all scrambled, too much static to even hear words. A few tweaks later and the old man’s voice finally came through.

“Normandy. This is Admiral Hackett. With the comm buoys in disarray and mass relays destroyed, I don’t know if and when this message will reach you, but you need to come back to Earth as soon as possible. Do whatever the hell you have to to make it back.” There was a pause in the message as everyone looked at each other. Then the voice spoke again and the words that came out struck everyone.

“We found Commander Shepard. She’s alive.”

#mass effect #mass effect 3 #mass effect post destroy ending #mass effect legendary edition #mass effect remastered #mele #garrus vakarian #femshep #femshep x garrus #shakarian #mass effect shepard #mass effect garrus #OC: Lyris Shepard #writing #my writing #ao3 #G-W76 #GalaxyPlaysMELE

27 notes · View notes