#was tempted to do justin but like

[sso-montana]

tagged by @apples-stables cisnxuusbd thank you so much  (*≧ω≦*)

10 fandoms, 10 favorite characters, let's goooo

Nishiki Nishio - Tokyo Ghoul

Sonju - The Promised Neverland

Mirko - My Hero Academia

Toji Fushiguro - Jujutsu Kaisen

Inosuke Hashibira - Demon Slayer

Hange Zoe - Attack On Titan

Karai - TMNT 2012

Ezra Bridger - Star Wars

Loki - Marvel

Xiao - Genshin Impact

I tag @mistfallenjoyer @corinne-eaglebridge-sso @lukas-crowsong @spacebunsz @sso-corn @everythingelsewastaken135 @garnoks @zelda-axewatcher @sharkpupsblog @xxydris-left-toenailxx

if you were tagged previously or don't want to you ofc don't have to <3

#this is almost entirely anime im so sorry #i tried my best to get other stuff in believe me #also not a single sso chracter lmaoooo #was tempted to do justin but like #at this point hes more of an oc than in game justin send help

[kdsburneraccount]

Slay ig

#just realized i forgot to crop my screenshots LOL but we proceed #nothing too incriminating there i think #well except for the 11 pm thing whatever we ball and whatnot #anyways yeah justin jefferson noted skin care girlie #i don’t use bubble skincare (or anything besides moisturizer) but I will not lie #slightly tempted to! (me when i fall for the trap) #if you didn’t know… now you do (i already knew just felt like sharing) #he’s so girlypop #catering to his audience (me) (in general the girlies) #remembering that time my friend said justin’s skin looked well cared for for some reason #well now we know the reason /j #idk tho the friend had some questionable takes (said jets was boring smh) #(and that he knew someone who thought Justin was ugly which. L I’m sorry) #I like this look it’s cute the natural hair is a vibe 🫶 #and ofc. short shorts #wow sounds like someone else who was on the vikings! wonder who (coughs loudly) #hopefully they don’t also decide to run away from minnesota to find the love of their life- (is shot by Vikings fans for insinuating that) #look im just saying i also want him to remain a Viking for life (w some caveats) #anyways I’ll stop rambling in the tags now #nfl #minnesota vikings #justin jefferson

[tossawary]

Rewatched the Howl's Moving Castle movie (fantastic animated movie, definitely inspired by more than an adaptation of the book) while doing something else and I was struck this time by the fact that the Prince (Turniphead the Scarecrow) says that he intends to go tell his king to call off the war, but THEN he intends on COMING BACK to Ingary to shoot his shot with Sophie again because (as he says to the flirtatious Witch of the Wastes) "hearts change".

And maybe he will come back to make Sophie an offer of marriage and then leave again when he's turned down, but I imagined for a moment that the Prince (who is possibly the movie's version of Prince Justin, so let's call him Justin) might just... move back into Howl's house without asking and stay there. There are several cases of precedent for this. Also, as Turniphead, he's shown several times helping Sophie with laundry, or playing with Markl, or helping the Witch of the Wastes move around, and Sophie deserves that kind of help around the house! Howl isn't going to reliably do chores.

And you know what? I think Howl would be into that shit. There's something very Wynne-Jonesian about it all still. It's tempting to write a post-canon fic about this situation from the movie with an extra dash of flavoring from the books. Like:

This is the infamous wizard Howl Pendragon/Jenkins, a vain draft-dodging flirt who likes to build moving castles to evade taxes too. The beautifully angry young woman with the silver hair over there is his wife, Sophie Hatter, who may or may not be an extremely powerful witch, but right now she's dusting and do not get in her way. This is Calcifer, the fire demon who used to have Howl's heart and is arguably his other life partner and also might be in love with Sophie, and this is arguably kind of actually his house. The old lady smoking a cigar over there is Howl's ex-girlfriend and former nemesis, the Witch of the Wastes, who now lives in their house. This is Markl, Howl's apprentice, kind of his kid, and there is no explanation of where he comes from or what happened to his parents. The dog used to be(?) the Royal Wizard's spy (Howl used to be her apprentice and potential successor) but now he also just lives here. And that's Prince Justin of Strangia, Sophie's house-boyfriend. Don't listen to the propaganda, he wasn't kidnapped by a heart-eating wizard; he used to be a cursed scarecrow and now he wants to be here to help Sophie do laundry. He's trying to homewreck and Howl thinks it's both funny and hot.

#tossawary hmc #fic ideas #howl pendragon #sophie hatter #prince justin turniphead

[incognit0slut]

Masterlist

KINKTOBER 2023 18+

One-shots based on songs

Lock your door 18+ Billie Eillish - Billie Bossa Nova >> All Reader wanted was for her coworker to pay attention to her. Spencer was more than happy to oblige.

Take it off Taylor Swift - Dress >> Spencer has a hard time keeping his hands to himself.

Buried in the pillow 18+ Chase Atlantic - Slow Down >> A night of restless sleep ends better than expected.

Body on mine 18+ Justin Sky - Collide >> Reader and Spencer find a way to spend the night together on a team retreat.

Lose Control part 1 of 3 18+ Sickick - Mind Games >> Spencer finds himself locked in a room with his rival.

↳ The Last Laugh part 2 of 3 18+ Sickick - Mind Games >> Spencer finds himself sharing a room with his rival.

↳ Better for you part 3 of 3 Spencer spends the change of year with a new resolution as he starts looking at his rival differently.

Dance with the devil 18+ Chase Atlantic - Swim >> Spencer reassures Reader that sex toys are his ally rather than his enemy.

All I need 18+ Daniel Caesar, Kali Uchis - Get you >> Spencer realizes how much he wants to spend the rest of his life with Reader. What better time is there to propose if not in the middle of making love?

Heaven to you 18+ Julia Michaels - Heaven >> Spencer couldn't wait to touch you after he's released from prison.

Play our fantasies 18+ Doja Cat - Streets >> The FBI agent visiting your workplace wants more from you than answers to his questions.

One-shot #Gifwriting

Pretty Boy 18+ Spencer was too pretty for you to resist.

Pretty when you sleep 18+ As newlyweds, Spencer couldn’t keep his hands off of you. Even when you were asleep.

Sweet agony 18+ After a tragic event, you believed you were unworthy of love. Spencer decided to prove you wrong.

Tempting the Cowboy 18+ The team has been trying to bring Spencer back to the BAU after he hung up his badge to live on his ranch peacefully. It’s a good thing you’ll do whatever it takes to persuade him, even if the rugged cowboy wants to bend you over in the barn.

Beyond the limit 18+ Spencer was hesitant when you asked him to be rough, but when he realized how much you enjoyed it, he wondered just how far he could push your limit.

↳ The breaking point 18+ Spencer realizes that being dominant doesn’t always require him to be rough, especially when he has complete control over your body.

Hypothetically Chronically single, you suggest a pact with your best friend to start a family together when you turn forty.

Stress Relief 18+ You convince your husband to take out his anger on you when he comes home very tense.

Behind Closed Doors 18+ Your admiration of his vest leads you to an empty office with his face buried between your thighs—and an urgent Emily demanding your whereabouts.

Series

Right Kind of Wrong 18+

Genre: Romance, mystery, crime, suspense Warnings: 18+ explicit sexual content (MINORS DNI), graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide, mentions of SA status: complete

Reader never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation when she suddenly became a witness. She also never thought she’d encounter her one-night-stand again—the awkward stranger who isn’t exactly that good in bed… Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong. But the more he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, the more he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Your requests

Love was a foreign concept until he met you. 18+

You’re flabbergasted at how much your son resembles your husband.

Spencer thinks you’re too sweet for a damaged man like him. 18+

Spencer forces you to give him a show when he discovers your secret. 18+

Spencer gives you a ride on his horse to watch the sunset.

Your idea of showering together to save time doesn’t work out as you planned. 18+

Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready. 18+

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x female reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencerreid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #Right Kind of Wrong

[thekingofwinterblog]

Franken Stein - Anime Vs Manga - Foils

As I've noted before, one of the more facinating things about comparing the later Soul Eater Anime vs the later Manga part is seeing and comparing the ways characters and themes follow similar lines, sometimes with wildly different outcomes, or quality of execution.

And one of the more interesting examples of this is how each incarnation handles Dr Franken Stein's descent into madness, and ultimately rejecting the abyss in it's own ways.

Both rely heavily on foils and contrasts, with the Anime using Stein's lovelife by contrasting his feelings for Marie Mjolnir with his deeply unhealthy attraction to Medusa, while the Manga uses the character of Justin Law to showcase why Stein ultimately rejected total madness.

Both have the same themes, but uses wildly different means to tell their story.

The anime's biggest difference here is that it actually has Stein fall to madness, while in the manga despite all temptations, and just how close he dances at the endge he never falls in.

This by it's very nature changes Stein's story to one of recovery, rather than temptation.

Because Anime Stein gives in, and the anime is not shy about illustrating just what a terrible choice doing so is.

The anime is also different in that it very much builds upon already established character and storylines in order to tell it's tale.

The anime takes the plotpoint of Crona betraying Stein to Medusa, and uses it as a springboard to further both Marie and Crona's characters as they deal with the aftermath of that choice.

This ultimately would likely not have happened if Crona had not fallen back into obeying Medusa again, and so Thematically, Crona's fate and redepmtion is tied to Stein's.

And while Crona is deeply, deeply regretful, Marie loves Stein and so deeply, deeply angry at both Crona and Medusa, while also wanting to reacue Stein.

However, this is just one side of the story, because Stein's actual fall is also rooted in the other character motivation that this direction uses to tell this tale.

And that is Medusa and her genuine, and toxic attraction to Stein.

Stein and Medusa ultimately are very similar people, both love taking things apary, both love chaos, and both are brilliant minds.

Their attraction to each others qualities are genuine... But that is all it is. Attraction. There is no love involved here, as neither actually cares about the other as a person.

These two only compliments the other in that they bring out the absolute worst aspects about the other. It is a relationship built on perverse attraction to their love for destrution and hedonism, very much a mirrior to Maka and Crona, who ends up being very important to this section of the story.

It is also a relationship built upon being the easy road. Whereas all the healthy relationships in the series are built around having to take the hard road with your loved ones, even when it hurts, medusa represents Stein just giving in to his madness, to jump off the abyss because he sees something destructive, tempting and interesting there.

Medusa additionally takes this a step into even further depravity by adding body possession into the mix, adding a third party into this mess, one withouth any capacity for concent... Which is made even worse by the fact that the person in question is a child.

Watching medusa and how much joy she takes in having twisted Stein to her will, it is crystal clear that she not only understands just how fucked up this entire thing is, but she REVELS in it.

It is frankly one of the most disturbing things in shonen anime and manga fiction period, and though thankfully it does not go all the way to the logical and disguisting endpoint, it still leaves the viewer both disguisted, disturbed and impressed just how EVIL Medusa really is.

And on the opposite end of the spectrum, we have Marie Mjolnir.

Whereas Medusa represents everything wrong about Stein's personality, Marie represents the opposite.

She represents Stein's caring side, his loyalty to his side and students, the man who was brave enough to stand alone against Medusa to buy his students time.

Hers and Stein's relationahip was one of genuine love, and understanding, not simply built on nothing but attraction and shared similarities.

Quite the the opposite, Stein and Marie could not be more different... And yet they love each other anyway.

I'll also note that the Anime portrays Marie and Stein's relationship in a different light than the manga does. In the manga, the entire point is to hammer in just how unlikely that these two people could ever fall for the other, while the Anime has the same premise but focuses on something else, namely how well this fits into Soul Eater's themes of different people coming together despite all their many, many differences.

When Stein ultimately makes the choice to go back to Marie, it doesnt feel like it's an unlikely choice, but instead one feels that it's the right one. It feels natural, that these two souls that fell away from each other once more found the other.

They are different people... But so what? They both have the bravery to gice this another shot, because they care about each other.

Also, just a bit of speculation on my part, but we never actually learn how Marie lost her eye in the phsyical world, but it shows up here, when she and Stein reaffirm their bond. That augfests to me that Marie probably lost the eye in circumstances that in some way meant something deep and profound between these two, given how important it seems to Stein.

If so, and especially if her losing it was Stein's fault in the first place, and mayhaps the reason they broke up, would add even more weight to her choice to gice this another go, forgiving him for his mistakes which deeply hurt her personally.

But again, this is total speculation.

Ultimately the Anime take on Stein is one that is defined by this contrast, the parallels and mirrors of Medusa and Marie, and Stein's ultimate choices between them.

Meanwhile, the Manga's foils is not between two differen people close to Stein, but instead about Stein himself as a mirror and foil to Justin Law.

Now let me be blunt. Justin Law is a very boring villain. There is very little compelling about him directly... But there is something compelling about the contrast between him and Stein.

Justin fell to madness because despite his rigid adherence to justice, honor and being a good person, he completely, and totally rejected any and all human bonds, with the only ones he made being made by complete accident, and ultimately he, in his madness, rejected even these.

He had no one to support him or draw strength from in his time of need, and so he fell to madness.

Meanwhile, Stein, despite being far, far more naturally inclined and much closer to madness from the get go, ultimately does not jump over the edge in the Manga... And the reason for that is his relationship with Marie Mjolner.

Ultimately Stein despite all his flaws devotes himself to Marie and helping her avenge her dead ex boyfriend.

And ultimately these two end up reconnecting their love just the anime, even to the degree that they get much further along in their reknit relationship than their manga counterparts.

However there are some massive differences between the two adaptions in this regard.

While the anime plays them getting back together again as a natural thing, the Manga instead plays up just how unbelievable and insane it is that these two somehow managed to reknit their relationahip, to the point where Marie actually protests that Stein is not her boyfriend, even as she is pregnant with his child.

I do actually like this take too... But I do prefer the Anime version, in large part because we actually get to see The critical turning point between Marie and stein, while the manga has their lighting the old flame happen offscreen.

It also helps that while the thematic differences between stein and Law are solid, Law is not a particularily interesting character, nor do him and Law have a deep connection.

Medusa is, and does have that connection. She is a delightfully EVIL and TWISTED villain, and her relationship with Stein makes the climax of Stain's arc, if much less of a spectacle, a much more emotional and thematically satisfying affair.

And thats even withouth factoring in the fact that this fight's outcome is actually about Crona, Maka and Medusa. Stein's fall and recovery is technically the sideplot, buy damn if it's not a great one.

#soul eater anime #soul eater #medusa gorgon #dr franken stein #meta #marie mjolnir #justin law #maka albarn #crona gorgon #old flame #toxic relationship #toxic love

[bobluvbot]

bonk!

pairing: bradley rooster bradshaw x f!reader

summary: in which fate uses a karaoke machine to lead the way for romance because you and Bradley are just too dumb and dense for it.

wc: 9k+ (sorry)

warnings: best friend!rooster, age difference, reader has a lot of insecurities like with body image (briefly mentioned, like one line only!) and self worth issues. implied sex so 18+ only! kinda beta’d. I *tried* to keep the angst at a minimum (i write angst but i am changing ok) but a LOT of pent up frustration. Still VERY fluffy though <3

A/N: Yeahhhhhhh. This started off as a single fluffy scenario with my beloved Rooster, but it kinda took a life of its own. Nonetheless, hope you enjoy! 

Reader’s call sign is Indigo!

If there was someone to blame for all this mess, it should be Mav. More often than not, it’s always Maverick’s fault.

He brought up the idea first during one of those after hours of the Hard Deck.

If nothing much has been going on back in base, you and Rooster, sometimes the rest of the Dagger squad would stay behind to help him and Penny clean and get everything straight for the next day. You would do it so often that Penny, who was adamant in shooing you guys away claiming that she could handle it, gave up trying and now checks if you’re cleaning thoroughly.

“Pen,” he’d said in passing, leaning against the mop he was using. “You know what’d make this place better?”

“Are you saying it isn’t already?”

Mav stutters, now realizing how his words could’ve sounded differently than he originally intended, much to you and Rooster’s amusement as you listened in to the conversation. “No- I- you know I didn’t mean it like that, honey.”

“I know,” Penny laughs. “I’m kidding. What were you saying, hun?”

“We should bring in a karaoke machine.”

-

In retrospect, it was a good idea. Not everyone who’d drunkenly belt out lyrics to a song could hit the right notes without the background music, the jukebox has not been updated to have all the hit music the younger crowd wants to hear, and not everyone could remember the piano chords of their favorite song. And as much as it would please the public demand, the highly acclaimed Rooster Bradshaw and his Great Balls of Fire could not commit to a nightly residency at the Hard Deck due to his demanding day job of being a fighter pilot. Welcoming the machine seemed like a harmless decision, and placing it outside seemed to complete the often deserted outdoor seating area.

And for a while it did what was expected. It brought in an interesting crowd to the bar. The nights you were there, you had witnessed a group of stressed college kids out back, screaming their lungs out through Evanescence’s discography. Another time, a small group were hunkered down by the machine, seemingly on guard as their drunk friend sobbed through Adele’s Someone Like You and Roxette’s It Must’ve Been Love. You had been tempted to hop on in a session when a group of friends decided to have a 2012 night, from Justin Bieber and Taylor Swift to One Direction and Little Mix. It brought out a lot of emotions from the patrons of the bar and soon enough it became a regular fixture at the Hard Deck, that Penny had to whip out a reservation list just for the outside seating to keep people from fighting over the time limit each group has before the next can have their go. It somehow made the place even more chaotic, especially during weekends, but added more income so no one was complaining.

It became a problem when you and the rest of the Top Gun instructors gave in to the hype and had a go for yourselves. It started out as innocent, drunk fun. You and the instructors around your age were sick of hearing the oldies and their outdated playlists from the jukebox (Don’t let Rooster know about this) as they played pool, so you went outside and dared each other to grab the mic and pick a song that you used to cry to during your first heartbreak with the promise of a crumpled 20$ bill someone dug out from their pocket. From Lips to an Angel to The Reason to Perfect, your friends each gave their all for the sad bill. Determined to stand out, you decide on Taylor’s Teardrops on My Guitar as your magnum opus for the night. It was a perfect fit, and your friends groaned woefully as the nostalgia hits them. In your drunken haze, you wondered for a bit why you’ve avoided listening or singing this song for so long, but as the song continued, you figure out why.

—

It was 2007, the summer before college, and you had just gotten your dream iPod in pink as a gift from your grandparents for getting into Columbia. You already had a list of all the albums and singles you were going to download on the back of your physics notebook, and the first off that list would be Taylor Swift’s albums. It was nice that you were the same age, you could relate to each song if you tried hard enough, but your lack of non-fictional boyfriends and romantic conquests were a huge setback back then. You were halfway through your second listen when your grandmother asks you if you can bring the casserole she just finished making next door, and because you didn’t have the heart to say no after getting your iPod, you agreed and made your way to your neighbor’s house.

They seemed to have someone over, judging by the number of bikes strewn across the lawn and an inconspicuous blue Bronco parked in their driveway that you didn’t recognize. More reasons to drop off and go, you’d thought, so you rang their doorbell while you thought of a good excuse to speed off. No one responded despite the commotion you could barely make out from the inside, so with an exasperated sigh, you reached out to press the bell again.

You remembered freezing, with your outstretched hand retreating back to the handles of the pan as you made contact with the one who answered the door. He didn’t have blue eyes like Drew did from the music video, nor was he called Drew for that matter, but god, you found yourself breathless and in constant awe like Taylor when you realized who it was.

He broke out in a grin, greeting you with that wretched nickname he and his cousins gave you when you were young. Bradley Bradshaw— the boy that taught you how to hang upside down from the monkey bars at the park because your friends (his cousins) thought you were too heavy to do so, the boy you got so attached to every summer when he came to stay next door because he included you whenever the cousins played Pokemon cards or Super Mario on the playstation and would let you off easy and debt free whenever you played monopoly, the boy who shared your love for aviation and would drag you along with their family trips to the flight museums nearby, and it would take years more for you to realize but he was also the same boy you looked for in the sea of faces at school, in hopes to find someone remotely close to who he was, which just left you terribly single— was back, visiting from college. He was still breathtakingly beautiful, and the crazy beating of your heart as he dragged you by the hand inside to see the family should be the telltale sign that you were going to be ruined before you escaped to college.

Catching up after dinner, you learned there was a girl. There was always someone— he was interested in, confessing their feelings, seeing, crying over him. You should’ve gotten used to it at this point. Bradley was a light that everyone was just naturally drawn to. Maybe you could chalk up the blame to the angsty fanfic you’ve read earlier that day or to the sad Taylor Swift songs you decided to dwell on before you brought the casserole, but goddamn it stung. It hurt when it shouldn’t be hurting in the first place. Bradley was one of your childhood friends, the kind big brother you always wanted to have. You’re sure that if he was around more, he would’ve helped you scare away your bullies or have even posed as your date to prom so you wouldn’t feel as left out as you did. It was in between your third or fourth bite of the cherry pie Bradley’s aunt had given you for dessert when you realized you saw him in a different light now, and it didn’t take long for you to see that he didn’t.

Later that night, you found yourself clutching your teal guitar, Love Story’s chords long forgotten, blasting Teardrops on My Guitar on your alarm clock speaker at 10pm, with only the moonlight and your pink wallpaper witnessing your tear-stricken face.

–

“Oh my god, is Indigo crying?”

“She is, fuck. Hurry, we gotta record this!”

Before your friend could point the camera flash on your face, you kick his shin before whipping out your middle finger, turning away from them to hastily wipe the tears that betrayed you on your sweater.

Despite the waterworks, you were determined to finish the last line of the song perfectly, because this is the last time you’ll be singing this for the next thirty or so years.

“Drew looks at me,” you start, and the doors swing open to welcome an amused Rooster and the rest of the gang into your group outside.

Locking eyes with you, you sing, “I fake a smile so he won’t see,” smiling.

Yeah, at least the sting lessened to a quiet twinge now.

—

The oldies have infiltrated the karaoke machine once they saw how much fun you guys had that night. Soon after, they’d come in early and just play one round of pool before Fanboy drags you and Payback outside quickly, reserving the machine before the bar’s crowd comes in. People would think this is unfair because you were allowed in earlier and would have the advantage to hoard the machine all to yourselves, but they didn’t want to risk disrespecting you guys and buying a round for the entire bar so they kept quiet.

It wasn’t long till Rooster had migrated his trademark song from the piano to the karaoke machine, deeming that it was hard to remember the chords when he’s had a few drinks. You’d still have your turn singing throwback songs with the gang, but once Bradley gets a hold of the mic, you might as well head home because it’s either he sings five songs in a row or a five minute song (there’s no in between). It gets especially worse when he’s got alcohol in his system, the mans will hog the mic for himself. You once got into a fight because of it and it only ended when Hangman snatched it from both of your hands and used it for his own song, much to both your chagrin.

—

“No, absolutely not.”

Those were the last words you register before your phone gets snatched from your hands. Mere seconds ago, you were on Amazon, comparing prices of those bluetooth karaoke microphones that had built in speakers and had just added the highest rated one on your cart.

You’ve grown attached to the bar’s karaoke machine and would look forward to it after a long day dealing with your new array of Top Gun students. You found that belting out Fall Out Boy relieves more tension from your back than your regular chiropractic appointments so you’re determined to still have your karaoke session one way or another. But apparently, your best friend had other ideas.

“I’m relaxing, Bradshaw, but I won’t hesitate to kick your nuts if you don’t give back my phone.”

“Let me just—,” he mutters, tapping on your device that seems suspiciously like removing something from your cart.

You immediately spring into action and he raises his arms above your reach in response. Damn him and his height. You resort to climbing up his limbs, and when that didn’t work, you gave a mean pinch his side. This seemed to do the trick as he hissed, folding over in pain, and you take the opportunity to grab your phone back.

God, you were glad you were on your break and none of your superiors or students were around to witness two of their instructors tackle each other outside one of the hangars.

“I can’t believe you’d betray Penny like this, Y/N.”

“What the hell are you on about?” You ask, shooting him a mean glare while wiping his fingerprints off from your screen on your suit.

“You getting your own karaoke mic means you won’t go to the Hard Deck anymore to sing and that’s just incredibly selfish and I can’t allow that.”

“Well,” you start, “I wouldn’t be getting one in the first place if someone here plays fair and doesn’t hog the mic for himself.”

He scoffs. “You talking to yourself?”

You gasp, appalled. “How dare you. That was one time! It’s not my fault All Too Well’s ten minutes!”

“Uh huh,” he gloats. “I’m just gonna pretend we didn’t listen to the album together and I totally didn’t see that there was a five minute version you could’ve sung.”

This prompts a teasing smile from your lips. “Oh, so you were paying attention to the album. I thought you hated it because it was cheesy teen music.” You say, using air quotes while mocking how he had complained when you took out his Temptations cd from the Bronco’s stereo and replaced it with your new Red album the moment you got it from the mail.

“I had little to no choice on the matter, Y/N. You chose the longest car ride to play that album on repeat,” he responds exasperatedly, rolling his eyes.

You smirk at the memory. You both were off that day and you persuaded Bradley to drive from base to downtown Los Angeles for this dumpling restaurant you saw on Yelp that offered an AYCE for their opening day. It wasn’t easy to get him off his couch during his offs (understandable), but you bribed him with the promise of a full gas tank and a car wash. He did sulk for a bit, but you knew he couldn’t resist free things (or you whining for that matter).

“Don’t distract me from the real issue here. Just don’t get that mic, Y/N. Fighting over that karaoke machine at the Hard Deck makes it more fun.” He says a matter-of-factly.

“Fun because no one has the balls to snatch the mic from you.” You grumble, checking your watch and seeing your break time was almost up. “Whatever,” you say in passing while wiping off some sandwich crumbs that stuck to your suit. “I’ll just order it when you’re not around,” you sneer, sticking your tongue out at Rooster as you start to walk back to the main building where your classes are held.

He catches up to you quick, a smirk on his lips. Does this man ever run out of comebacks? “You’re forgetting the fact that that’s my Prime account you’re using.”

You halt, appalled, your eyes following his figure as he ignores you and continues his walk. “I pay for my half, you ass! That’s our account!”

He doesn’t say anything as he looks back at you, only a knowing expression on his face. You know there’s no escape from this. Because when you’d try to order it later, he’ll just cancel it on his end when he gets notified of the purchase. Frustrating. “I hate you.”

He hums in response, and you try to suppress the tingly feeling you’d always get when he does that. “Still up for dinner later?” He asks when you reach his side.

You feel the weight of disappointment and dismay from your ancestors as you mutter a yes to the man before you separate ways. Doesn’t matter how much Bradley Bradshaw riles you up every chance he gets, you’d always say yes to him.

—

“Just let me take you to lunch, please.”

You had tried your best to keep a respectable distance from your superior but it got increasingly hard as Rooster grabbed your arm and situated himself in front of you, his bulky figure blocking your way. Getting caught was one thing, but having all the feelings for this man you’ve kept in a box stowed away in some hidden part of your head unravel because of how close he is to you right now was another issue you’re not ready to face.

In fact, mere days ago, the thought of him hadn’t even crossed your mind. Renewed determination and excitement coursed through your veins as you started your advanced flight training. You worked your ass off to get to this point, and it’s only a matter of time before you get your wings. That alone kept your head above water. You might’ve taken the long route with your engineering degree, but it surely did wonders as you sped through most of your earlier classes in training. Soon enough you’ll be doing what you’ve always dreamed of as a kid. And nothing will stand in your way to fly.

Well, you didn’t account for having Bradley Bradshaw temporarily stand-in as your flight instructor for a week, so that’s oversight on your part.

You had looked around, relieved to see the hallway was deserted, before you hissed, “You’re too close! If anyone sees us, they’re gonna assume the worst and I’ll be dead.”

“Let them.” You glared at him and he took it back immediately. “Okay, fine.” He had said, taking one step away from you. “Lunch, with me,” he repeated again, as if you hadn’t been listening to him ask for the past few minutes. “I’ll let you order anything you want off the menu. On me.”

He knew your affinity for free stuff, and you never wanted to pluck that knowledge off his head than right now. You sighed, resigning. “You’ll leave me alone after?”

“I–,” he’d stuttered, caught off guard. “C’mon, Y/N, don’t do me like this. I haven’t seen you in so long. We gotta catch up.”

“It’s just,” you said quietly, avoiding his gaze. “It’s different now, Bradley. You’re my instructor and I’m one of your students—”

“Only for a week,” he interrupted, and you gave him a scowl. “Sorry, go on.”

Sighing, you continued, “Don’t get me wrong, I wanna go with you. It’s just that people might get the wrong idea when they see us outside and I’m this close to graduating and I don’t want anything to hold me back, you know?”

He noticed your anxious expression and he’d ran a hand through the length of your arm to comfort you. “I understand, you know I do.” Despite the thick material of your flight suit, his touch left a trail of goosebumps on your skin. The effect he had on you is daunting.

He paused to think for a second. “Hey, what about this. Let’s change out of these uniforms and then I’ll wait for you outside base. We’ll blend in perfectly. That sound good?”

A small smile had creeped into your face as you nodded gingerly. God, you missed him so much.

“I got you, don’t worry. Plus I already told some of my colleagues that you’re a family friend so they leave us alone.”

He probably meant that in a sweet, genuine way, but it still stung. You went through so many changes during the years you spent apart. You worked hard on your appearance and became more confident in the way you deliver yourself, something that you weren’t before. You’d never admit it but in some small part of you, you wished Bradley saw you like the girls he’d go crazy over.

You mustered up a tight smile for him. “Okay, See you in a bit.” You say before walking away.

A single thought remains in your mind: Still not good enough.

—

Lunch went surprisingly easy despite of what had happened earlier.

You’ve imagined this moment with Rooster so many times while you were away for college. Like what would your first meeting as adults would be, if you would ever cross paths again.

Would you have a meet-cute like the movies where you bump into each other unexpectedly, or where you’d trip and he’d catch you, literally sweeping you off your feet? And would it be a new beginning for both of you, finally seeing each other after years of being apart?

Would love just come naturally, fate tired from seeing you both struggle to see it?

Even if this isn’t as grandiose as what you’ve dreamed of, you and Bradley munching through breakfast for lunch and early dinner at Denny’s while catching up seemed like how things should be.

Just his mere presence made everything better (for your heart) and worse (also, for your heart) at the same time.

You didn’t tell him that running thousands of miles away from home didn’t do shit because all you’ve ever searched for was him and anything remotely similar to how he’s made you feel, nor how you’d always check next door first to see if that blue Bronco’s parked in the driveway again when you’d come home for breaks. Instead you told him good (boring) things about college, because those were the safest. It didn’t warrant any additional questions, questions that could prod at your already flaking defense and one wrong step could have him see how much you’re pathetically struggling to keep it up.

He in turn, tells you stories from college to his current naval career, and you listen. Or you try to, as you hyperfocus on how he looked; how this clean cut hair made him look more serious, far from the mop of curls he sported throughout high school and college to how his lips still looked plump and pretty, and you get reminded of how much you liked to sneak looks at them whenever he speaks from that one summer.

This is probably the closest you could be with him so you take advantage of it, marking the features you loved from the old Bradley that remained the same from the new ones you��d get to know from afar.

You manage to catch the important things: how attached he’s been to the California sun ever since he got stationed there and how he’ll take you there to visit once you graduate because he’s that sure that you’ll love it as much as he does, how he’s thinking of growing a mustache, and that he didn’t even consider taking up this job but he’s now happy he did.

He made a point that you know how proud he is of you for following your childhood dream like he did. He swore he’ll take care of you, making up for all those years he hadn’t been around.

You’d hate it later that night because you knew better, but after years of just bottling up all the feelings you felt for him, maybe today was the day you could indulge in the affection he gives you.

Even if it’s ill placed. After all, it would just be today.

Until you realized he meant what he said.

It got hard to remain level-headed in the mist, especially when he became the first person you’d want to call just to tell him about both exciting and frustrating things you got to do from training because you knew he’d understand perfectly, or when he had shown up late to your graduation because he drove for an hour to get you a big bouquet of peonies (your favorite), or when he took you to San Diego and introduced you to his friends who all welcomed you with fondness, finally giving you a sense of belonging and community in this stage of your life.

It was arduous to keep up when even after getting assigned to bases across the country, you’d randomly find packages of random food items that you’ve been craving mentioned in passing through facetimes and texts, or when he would have time to visit, you’d suddenly find that broken bedroom doorknob you’ve been ignoring fixed, the change oil light from your car finally turned off, and you’d always get dropped off in front of Target’s entrance while he finds parking in a busy lot.

Punishing to bear in mind when it’s been custom to have each other pick one up after deployment, when he trusts you enough to park his beloved Bronco at your place and even take it out for eventual maintenance checks, and when you’d lean on his chest when it gets too crowded and his arms find its way around you, tucking you in, and at once there’d be comfort in chaos.

This still isn’t what you hoped to be with Bradley; but you were given something greater, far more than that silly little crush you’ve ever daydreamed about, and suddenly, something you’ve been certain of ever since that day you handed him that casserole wasn’t as clear now. Risking all this for a confession of years of love and adoration didn’t seem worth it anymore.

Perhaps, this was okay. This was how things should be.

—

So you didn’t quite understand why you were fuming, and all that filled your head was hurt, hurt, hurt.

The scene unfolded like a usual Saturday night for everyone: Tipsy Rooster throws his hand across your shoulders, making you sway with him to the opening rhythm of Great Balls of Fire (his third song in a row), leaning close to your ear where his mustache tickles your skin and unsheaths a million goosebumps at its wake, to say that he promises, like pretty promises, to let you sing the last verse and chorus with him as a peace offering for hogging the mic yet again. And you believe him.

Not because the few drinks you’ve had impeded your better judgement, but because it wasn’t like Rooster to break promises. Neither a wash of alcohol nor adrenaline could waver that man’s conviction to a promise.

You relent, plopping yourself beside a warm Phoenix, who was busy playing an intense card game with Bob, Fanboy, and some other pilots. Through the windows, you could spot Hangman’s animated head bob along as he charms two women by the pool table while Coyote and Fritz played beside him. It had been a busy week for all of you back at base, so everyone was just out and about, eager to be distracted from the events at work.

You had felt yourself get dizzy after taking two swigs off your nth beer, so you closed your eyes for a bit, leaning your weight on Nat’s back as you listen to your best friend croon his heart out and have his karaoke moment. Music had always calmed Rooster down, and as much as you’d love to have your overdue turn to sing, you’re always willing to wait for him (even if you’ll never admit it out loud).

So when he finished the second chorus and the piano solo kicked in, you had willed yourself to come back to consciousness. It had been a while since you sang this song, and you’ve never shared a duet with Rooster before because both of you would just be too busy fighting for the mic. You might not have the best singing voice when tipsy but you’re singing with your best friend, and it was okay to be embarrassing with him.

But you never hear your name called, and you open your eyes just in time to witness everything. The door leading to the outdoor area opened and out it spat a woman you remember seeing in passing inside when you went to get a refill from Penny. She was beautiful and of course, she had eyes only for Rooster. Considering the recognition in her face as she saw him plus the sure steps he made towards her, you knew they have had history.

You couldn’t hear what they were saying but she was laughing, obviously sending the fuck me gaze in Rooster’s way, and you could tell he was chuckling too by the careen in his shoulders.

The piano solo gave you an insulting background music as you watched tensed up. Knowing this song by heart, you count the seconds and notes while staring at the two of them.

‘Anytime now, Roos will bid her goodbye and he would call me next to him and we would finish this song together,’ you thought, assuring yourself. ‘He promised.’

Except when the solo ended, he pulled her close, put his arm on her shoulders, handed her the mic, and they sang together.

He didn’t even bother looking back at you. It was as if you weren’t there in the first place.

You should really lay off on alcohol. Something about it makes you act childish and irrational.

Because here you were, a grown woman, an Ivy League and Top Gun graduate, trusted to fly big expensive planes through challenging and stressful situations, yet all you wanted to do was to throw things and wail right then and there because you didn’t know how to quiet the pounding in your chest or to silence the reverberating words in your head: hurt, and in a smaller voice, that should’ve been me.

Despite the open around you, it felt like the air was getting punched out from your lungs, and you just had to get out. Standing abruptly, you forgot the drink perched on your lap and it spills, the cold liquid soaking through denim. Wanting to slip away unnoticed was far gone because your clumsiness just managed to attract unwanted attention from Nat and the rest.

A chorus of startled and worried questions erupt at your wake, but they get swept up in the night breeze as you squeeze past them, muttering something sounding like an apology while your feet takes you down the patio steps and into the sand of the beach, your boots sinking on the sand with your laden steps.

It seemed like the faster you run, your feet get heavier and harder to drag off the sand, making your dash to the parking lot achingly slower. The world was mute, the once noisy bar with all its music and chatter, even the relentless crashing of waves to shore were absent. The biting November wind clings to your frame and to the wet trails left on your cheeks. You didn’t even notice you were crying, but you just hope they didn’t spill when you were squeezing past your friends. They didn’t have to see how pathetic you really were behind your collected front.

But here now, by the unlit back wall of the bar where no wandering eyes could see you, maybe you could let some tears flow to keep the dam from overflowing again. You have always prided yourself in being able to keeping your emotions in check. With a job like yours you couldn’t guarantee a day or two where nothing unexpected occurs, no one gets hurt, or no one treats you unfairly, so you had to learn how to let your work be work, and not let it bleed through your personal life. Same as with Bradley. Your longing for him was met in this friendship and had let yourself get used to that. You knew to turn away when he spots someone that sparks his interest in the bar, you learned to tune him out when he raved about this person he met, you had a set of answers to give when he asks you advice on what to wear for a date or what gift to give.

Because your needs were being met. You have a best friend, a confidant, a partner in him. You have made a joke of yourself, your feelings to keep the man you loved close. You could sleep at night before. You were okay before. You could pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow like before, so why doesn’t it work now?

You cry for the wasted years of devoting yourself to someone who wouldn’t even bat an eye for you when occupied with others that haven’t, or wouldn’t even attempt to do things you’ve done for Bradley, to make him happy, to keep that fucking smile on his face, to keep that light in his eyes burning bright.

You cry for all the times you have rejected or ignored people that expressed interest in getting to know you because you were too enamored and convinced that no one could make up for what he was in your life. And you’re not wrong. No one could make you insecure like he does whenever you act or dress like what he says he seeks for in a partner but he’d still look the other way. No one could be as dense as he is. No one could make you cry about a fifteen year old song like he does and make you feel like your teen self isn’t as different as you were now.

You wonder if you could’ve just given the guy who pursued you for a month with clear intentions and a kind heart a chance, a date, a night to prove himself to you, would you still be crying uncontrollably with your hand muffling your sobs, the rough wood patchwork on a dark corner of the bar the only thing keeping you from curling up into a ball as the years of regret catch up to you on a Saturday night?

Almost the entirety of your life devoted should be enough. It was time to quit Bradley Bradshaw.

Only it had to wait until sunrise to start. Because upon reaching the parking lot, you were smacked with a terrible realization: you rode with him to the Hard Deck.

You had sobered up from tears a little bit, but you feel another sob threatening to bubble out of your throat. Why were you so stupid?

You want to kick the Bronco’s wheels out of frustration but the baby didn’t do anything to deserve it (also because you had paid to get the car washed earlier that day). It was just an innocent bystander to your stupidity and unconditional love to its owner, so you drop down and hug your knees tight, shielding your face from the lights of the lot.

Maybe if you could sleep like this, you’d wake up back to this morning and this will all be a simple nightmare. And the exhaustion from the week and your sadness and anger were all too convincing for you to try it out, if it weren’t for the voice calling out your name in worry, the footsteps quickly coming towards you, and the strong arms that wrap around your frame, willing you to speak.

“Y/N, hey,” Bradley says softly, hand rubbing circles on your back. “Let’s get you somewhere warm, m’kay?”

Managing to muster up some strength, you push him away, or at least a sorry attempt to. Your palms were no match against his hard chest, and they just slide down hopelessly to your sides.

Grumbling, you say, “I can do it myself.”

“Okay, careful.” His voice remained soft, devoid of any annoyance or exasperation. This annoys you more. You wanted nothing but to hate this man to the guts but he makes it hard by being like this, like he actually cares.

You refuse to meet his eyes but you know they’re on you, watching as you hoist yourself up using the concrete as leverage. He had his hand outstretched to catch you if you stumble, and for a second you were tempted to grab it, but you resort to the side of the Bronco to keep your balance and the hand retreats.

Training your eyes to the ground, to anywhere except his stupid face, you explain, “I just need my bag,” gesturing at the lump on the passenger seat of the car. “So I can just catch an uber home.”

“No, I’ll drive you home,” he quickly refuses, fishing out his car keys from his back pocket. You wanted to lunge and steal it from him, but that’s just going to cause unnecessary contact with him. It’s best to avoid touching anything of him because you don’t know what it’ll do to the wall you’ve hastily built against him.

“Don’t bother. Last thing I want is to ruin your chances in getting laid tonight.”

Your words earn a quick eyebrow furrow from him and a miniscule wave of satisfaction runs through you. And you figure it out: if you can’t be happy tonight, no one near you can be.

A desire to cause a cascade of anger through him continues to consume you but he stops there. Face still laced with concern, he shakes his head and sighs, “Alright, let’s get you home.”

You watch him as he opens your door and waits for you to climb in while you remained standing where you were.

“Y/N.” He says it with a tonality he almost exclusively uses at work, when he has to put his instructor hat on or when he has someone to reprimand. “Please don’t make me carry you inside.”

You want to say he wouldn’t dare, but you knew he could easily do it. And even if you scream bloody murder, people knew you two always bicker like this so no one would think anything’s amiss. So you glare at him before noisily climbing up his car and shutting the door on his face. Whether it may be through words or actions, you were adamant to express your frustration to him, to this car, to this entire situation.

You could tell by the slump in his shoulders as he walked to the driver’s seat that he was bothered by how you’re acting but you can’t bring yourself to care. You just want to leave him troubled as you are, with his heart wrung tightly he couldn’t breathe.

The next words come out after a while of driving quietly through dark, empty streets. He was letting you calm down but your mind was far from it. You occupy yourself by counting the streets left to cross before you reach your apartment from the passenger window, wanting nothing but to get the fuck out of there and sleep.

“Y/N,” he starts. “What happened back there? Did anyone cause you trouble? Tell me what they look like so I can tell Penny and Mav about it tomorrow.”

You were thankful you had your hands tucked in, arms crossed over your chest, because you were certain if it had been anywhere else he could easily reach over and touch, he would.

When he was answered with silence, he tries again. “Were you hurt, Y/N? What did they do to you? Please tell me.”

“God, shut up. You’re making my head throb even more.”

“I will when you answer me. Even Phoenix doesn’t know what’s up with you back there. She says you just got up and left.”

“Maybe it’s just that.”

“I know you enough to know that it isn’t. Something happened that made you this upset.”

“Why do you care so much, Rooster? Dealing with you is suffocating.”

His mouth gapes incredulously, and if the car was stopped in a light he would’ve stared at you in disbelief. “Wha–,” he stutters. “Y/N, come on. Don’t be like this.”

“Like what, Rooster? Like a bitch?” You snort. “I already told you earlier I just needed my fucking bag. I didn’t ask for you to come drive me home. I’m only here because you insisted.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I–,” “I don’t want you to go home alone and upset. I hate seeing my best friend like this and not being able to help. I’m sorry.” There it was again, best friend. An affectionate word, even an achievement to have for others, but you never had a word that triggers so much hate in you as much as that. It sends your temper bubbling higher.

You scoff.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. If you’re mad at me, at whatever I did, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not letting you buy the bluetooth microphone. I’ll get you a new one personally as soon as we get home.”

Now you really laugh, insulted, like salt being thrown haphazardly on your fresh scars. You should’ve cut this man off ages ago. “All this, and the best you can think of is that I’m fucking upset over a microphone. God, I’m really seeing everything tonight, am I?”

“Then help me out, Y/N! I’ve been sitting here going through tonight and yesterday night and the last week, wracking my brain for anything I’ve said or did that made you this upset with me.” He breathes, trying his best to calm himself down.

In a leveled tone he begs, “Please tell me what I can do to make this right.”

“You actually saying that unprovoked just proves everything I’ve realized tonight about you, Roos. I just feel stupid now trying to convince myself that you weren’t dense and selfish when it’s really all about you, isn’t it? You only get bothered when someone lashes out on you. Then you self reflect. You only care about your feelings, about your happiness. You don’t give a shit about anyone else!”

“What? You know that’s not true, Y/N.”

“Knowing you forever says the opposite, Rooster. You have the world in your hands and God forbid anyone upset you and ruin your night—”

“God, Y/N, I’m sorry that I can’t read what’s on your mind! If you can just tell me what the hell I did that got you this pissed so I can apologize for it, instead of saying cryptic and hurtful shit that I know you don’t mean then we’d have a better conversation, don’t you think?”

“Wow, so now you’re telling me the things I mean and don’t mean. You sure you can’t read my mind, Roos?”

“I know you’d never say those things to me because you know who I am. You think I’m shallow? Okay. That I’m narcissistic, fine. But saying I don’t give a shit about anyone, about you,” he pauses. “You know better than that, Y/N. I know you do after everything we’ve gone through—”

“So now you want to compare the shit we did, shit we sacrificed for each other during this fucking friendship? Alright, I’m down. Go ahead.”

“What— no! Fuck, Y/N, please. I know what you’re doing, you’re trying to hurt me, making me feel the way I made you feel.” He pleads, his voice getting hoarse from all the screaming. “Just please tell me what you want me to do to fix this. Please.”

“I want nothing to do with you.” It came off so easy from your tongue it’s hard to believe you held this back for years.

It surprised him too, so much so that he gave up trying to make you admit you didn’t mean it. The certainty in your voice scares him enough to believe as soon as he heard it. “Why?”

“Because I fucking hate you.”

You see shock, anger, and sadness and all sorts of emotions you can’t catch because of the tears blocking your vision flit on his face quickly. With a morose expression, he shakes his head in disbelief, blinking some tears away, willing them not to fall. You knew he’s trying to think you didn’t mean it.

But now with tears falling freely, you know you finally do. “​​Because you make me become someone that I’m not and I hate it. You make me jealous, you make me spiteful of the girls that come near you, you make me hateful and bitter that I can’t make you smile like you do with people who barely know you. And I know that’s so petty and immature and I know better than that but you just make me stupid and irrational.

You make me dependent on you for things that I can do myself. I can drive myself home I can do my own groceries I can take care of myself when I’m sick but now that you’ve weaseled yourself in my life these things aren’t the same without you. I hate that I got attached to this fucking car that eats up gas so fucking quick. I hate seeing your stupid Hawaiian shirts you always forget to iron. I hate your stupid fucking mustache and how long you take to fucking shape them.

I fucking hate how I get so weak when I’m with you that I get all the feelings I know I should’ve given up on ages ago and I know, I have fucking known for years that you’ll never feel the same way I do and yet here I am. I hate that I can’t quit you after all these years I’m still here and I love you and I can’t do anything about it.”

You also hate that unlike the confession scenes in movies have the heroine crying but still look beautiful, you had tears and snot dripping on your shirt and jeans and you only found out when you tasted some while sputtering and spewing out all the words that haunted you for years on Bradley.

Finally everything was on the table. You’ve crossed the point of no return and instead of feeling relief you felt spent, exhausted, and widely aware that you don’t have strength to face your best friend anymore. In fact, you’re sure you just lost yours.

Tears have blinded you to what you were facing and you could barely breathe from the snot build up in your nostrils, so you pull up your sweater to wipe and sneeze into until—

BONK!

A searing pain erupts from a specific point on your forehead and you clutch it while curses flow from your mouth, tearing up again because it fucking hurt and it made your headache ten times worse. Bradley must’ve hit you with something and you’re mad but you also understand why he’d do that.

But as you blink some tears away you see him cradling his forehead as well, groaning and cursing in pain, mirroring your actions.

What the hell just happened? Did he just headbutt you?

Turns out you’ve thought that one out loud. “I didn’t, you dumbass. You keep on fucking moving.”

He grabs your face, encasing it with his big hands forcing you to look at him. You stare at each other for a second and after everything you’ve exchanged in this car you want it to last until it couldn’t, because you knew this would be the last time you’d have Bradley this close. Even if his beautiful features are marred with pain and frustration and other emotions you couldn’t name.

He groans, pulls on the sleeve of his thermal shirt and wipes the snot and tears off of your nose and mouth haphazardly.

And then he leans in for a kiss.

There was a blink, a split second of silence, before the chorus of voices erupt in your head: your five year old self disgusted that you’re kissing that snotty Bradshaw kid; a ten year old you guilty and scared that Ms. Carole will get mad at you for not asking permission to kiss her son; thirteen, appalled that you were basically making out with someone that’s clearly not Emmett Richmond from Legally Blonde; seventeen year old you screeching, screaming ‘FUCKING FINALLY!’ and immediately searching for a Taylor Swift song to accompany this moment; and a twenty six year old Y/N more confused than ever that you’d still end up here, living your adolescent fantasy instead of finding someone new and better.

Yet amidst the chaos, you find yourself mute. In the moment, yes, you were hopeless against Bradley’s lips, yours following his lead like a teenager on her first kiss because you haven’t had (or probably refused to get) enough practice to do this thing properly, but you found it graceless, like trying to walk in shoes that were one size too big— not quite right. Like you couldn’t give yourself fully to the moment because something hefty still lingers in the air, left unsaid.

So against your past selves’ wishes, you pull away. Looking down, you refuse to look at him, afraid that his eyes will confirm your worst fear. “Please,” you whisper nervously. “Please don’t kiss me because you feel bad. That’s… that’s mean.”

An exasperated sigh escapes Bradley and two fingers tilt your chin to face him properly. There wasn’t any trace of guilt nor contempt on his flushed face. Just pure exasperation for all the things you’ve done tonight but you can’t let yourself be so sure. No falling for anything without full certainty and a vocal confirmation. You had enough of your fair share.

“God, you’re the smartest girl I know but you’re also incredibly dumb. I kissed you to shut you up and let you know I do feel the same thing because I know if I just say it you won’t listen because you’re too fucking stubborn.” He huffs.

Locking eyes with you, he quirks an eyebrow waiting if you have another protest to make. If you weren’t in this situation, you would’ve laughed at the ridiculous irked face he’s making. Maybe he is telling the truth, you tell yourself. Maybe this time, it’ll be right.

Deeming your silence and waiting, parted lips as an answer, he says sulkily, “Now, can I continue this without getting interrupted?”

You hit his arm as you nod. Your lips meet again, the kiss deeper this time around judging by the arm that now encircles you, attempting to pull you closer to him but failing miserably.

“Fuck this shit,” he grumbles.

“Language, Bradshaw, damn,” you chuckle, watching him slide off his seatbelt, putting the car on park and the hand brake on.

“My right foot fell asleep because I was stepping on the breaks this whole damn time.”

Now you really laugh. What a giant dork.

“Yeah, yeah,” he waves you off as he reaches towards you and slides off your seatbelt. “Wonder whose great idea it is to confess feelings in the middle of a goddamn street.”

You didn’t get the chance to reply in between hysterics because he swiftly carries and maneuvers you around so you were straddling him, surprised at how comfortable it was. You never had him this close before and you sober up quickly into a mesmerized silence, just admiring how beautiful he looked this close, how the streetlight outside lands square on his face and you could see the speckles of green in his brown eyes, and how all of this is yours. God, saying that feels so foreign but right.

He lets your soft fingertips graze the contours of his face, from his lips to the tip of his nose before one finally settling lost in his curls and the other on the nape of his neck. You don’t know this yet, but he also had dreamed of this moment longer than he could remember.

Suddenly you get hit with a familiar wave of the longing in your pit for Bradley, only this time you can act up on it. So you did, crashing your lips onto his.

Like the other things you’ve imagined with him, this was certainly never in consideration. You’d imagine a spacious park, branches of a leaning tree lined with soft fairy lights that made both of you glow as he leans in, lips melding into yours perfectly as soft music crooned in the background. Instead you get a steamy Bronco two streets away from your apartment, and probably more odd locations in your place. Not that you’re complaining though.

—

You were going through some papers that needed to be graded on one of your students’ desk after class when you feel the presence of three amused pilots approaching you.

Even if you didn’t look up, you know by their steps that it was Fanboy, who took a seat in front of you, Phoenix, that sat next to you, and a snickering Hangman who opted to stand beside you, looming over your hunched figure.

“What did my kids do now?” You say, not bothering to greet them. Even if the students you had also took classes with some of them, you were adamant in calling them your children because despite of how much they annoyed you sometimes, you’ve gotten close to this batch and they to you. Some of the instructors would even ask you to sit them down and discuss about the mistakes they made in their other classes so you could work with them to do it better. Not without them holding you responsible when they act out (sometimes. It can’t be helped) of course.

“Oh nothing. They’re great, actually,” Nat replies. “We just wanted to see the beautiful face of our great Indigo today.”

Mickey pipes up. “Yeah, we didn’t even get to see you at lunch today.”

Moving onto the next paper, you say, “I was busy. But didn’t you guys visit my class earlier?” It was just Hangman and Fanboy casually walking across the back of the room, claiming to grab something very important (a random HDMI cord). They scooted out fast but not before getting a good look at your confused face. You thought you had something stuck to your teeth but you didn’t have your phone with you so you just tried to clean them with your tongue.

“Yeah. We did.”

“Uhuh. Need another cord?”

“No, we just need you to look at us, darlin’.”

You almost didn’t, half expecting Hangman to have a plate of whipped cream ready to smack your face, but food isn’t allowed beyond the cafeteria so you reluctantly raise your head to meet the expectant and scandalous looks on your friends’ faces.

No face smashing occurred, only a mesh of hollers, high fives, and nods of agreement.

“What am I missing?”

“Oh, nothing. We’re just happy you had fun last night with Rooster.”

“Took you guys too fucking long,” Mickey drawls, clutching his head in exaggeration. Phoenix joins him in agreement, grinning at you proudly like she’s your mom and you just got a medal for being a top student in class.

A sweat starts to break out of your forehead. You and Bradley didn’t tell anyone that you were together last night, hell, you didn’t even had time to discuss what you guys were now. The last thing you want is for people to make assumptions and you can’t tell them otherwise because you don’t know where you stand. ‘We just fucked all night in every hard surface you could think of, no big deal.’ won’t be an acceptable answer, especially when this reaches Maverick and Penny.

“Wha—,” you stutter. “I wasn’t with Rooster last night! Stop making up bullshit, Bagman.”

Jake just gives you that god awful smirk and nod combo that tells you he knows you’re full of shit right now.

You turn to Nat, desperate for your friend to back you up. ‘’Nat, I wasn’t with him last night I swear.”

She makes her way to your lap and hugs you sideways. You know you could always count on your wingman. “Oh, my sweet Indy,” she coos. “No need to explain. The same bruise you and Rooster have on your foreheads tell us everything we wanna know.”

#rooster #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #rooster imagine #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw fluff #top gun maverick #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #miles teller #it’s maverick’s fault

[vidavalor]

The Blitz, The B-Side and Baraqiel

Another post in a series about how "The Metatron" in the Final 15 is actually Satan.

This also contains a smidge of requested stuff on Baraqiel, who will get a full meta soon when I'm done with ramblings about The Devil.

The B-Side. Song featured on the other side of a record for another song.

"Peggy Sue." 1957 hit song by Buddy Holly & the Crickets. As mentioned to Aziraphale by Maggie in S2, "Everyday" is the B-Side from the "Peggy Sue" single.

"Everyday." Maggie keeps sending records to The Resurrectionist pub for their jukebox and they send her back copies of "Everyday" because Gabriel's miracle for Beez turns every record they play into that song.

When Maggie turns one of the records over-- the one she gives to Aziraphale-- both sides of the record are "Everyday." The "Peggy Sue" B-Side does not exist because Gabriel has eliminated it from being played at the pub in question, which generates "Peggy Sue"-free records as a result. We'll see a little later in this meta how Gabriel actually told us in 1.01 that he's got no time for "Peggy Sue"...

"Everyday" = The Gabriel and Beez positive ending in S2. Choosing true love and to be with that one particular person who makes everything better.

But it's the B-side to...

"Peggy Sue" = um, not "Everyday"-- more the opposite of that-- as outlined below:

Peggy. Nickname for Margaret.

Sue. Nickname for Susan, the root meaning of which is roses of Sharon.

Greta. Shortened version of Margareta. Derived from Margaret.

Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt... aka Captain Rose Montgomery ="Peggy Sue".

Marguerite's. French restaurant on Whickber St. Name means "Margaret" in French. Covered in roses. Making it also "Peggy Sue" and tying The Blitz, Part 1's Greta/Rose conflict directly to 2.06's Metatron/Devil conversation at Marguerite's.

Marguerite's is run by and likely owned by Justine. It is the location of both Crowley and Aziraphale's smitten would-be date conversation while it was open and, while it was closed, Aziraphale's conversation with "The Metatron."

It is where Aziraphale is tempted by "The Metatron"-- who is really on the opposite "side" from what he appears to be. He is not really "the Rose" but "the Greta"-- The Devil.

Bara. Japanese for "rose", in a pejorative sense (similar to the English "pansy".)

Baraqiel... aka Crowley. Pictured above at Marguerite's beside a romantic red rose. The actual anti-fascist involved in 1941 and still in the present and whose side Aziraphale should choose. Greta is a spy pretending to be Rose but Rose doesn't really exist; Crowley is a demon who pretends to be an angel whose name partially means "Rose"... and Crowley and Aziraphale both found out together long ago that the demons can still do angelic miracles so, for all intents and purposes, Baraqiel is real.

In S1, Aziraphale is the self-proclaimed "*the* Southern pansy." In S2, Crowley's B-side fake angel identity of Baraqiel is revealed and part of the etymology there relates to roses.

Justine. Means "just" and "fair." When Marguerite's is open, Justine is there, which relates to that sense of what is right and good and true. Crowley and Aziraphale are at Marguerite's together in S2 when it is open. Their relationship is right and true and fair and good. Aziraphale talks there with "The Metatron" when the restaurant is closed and Justine is nowhere to be found. No Justine and the closed restaurant = foreboding as all fuck.

Marguerite's. Justine's restaurant, where, as we've said, Crowley and Aziraphale met during its open hours. Means "of-- or belong to--Margaret" in French.

French. Aziraphale can't get decent crepes anywhere outside of Paris. And the brioche. And the oui est la plume de la jardiniere de ma tante? flirting outside Marguerite's in S2. C'est si romantique...

Margaret. Means "pearl." Pearls are the rare jewels found in oysters. Like the ones Crowley and Aziraphale went out for in Rome on the day they also first shared some oysters.

Montgomery. Captain Rose Montgomery, the B-side fake identity of Fraulein Greta Kleinschmidt. Mont from the Latin for "mountain" and the rest from the Greek "gomari"-- meaning "to load"/"to carry a load or a pack while climbing/man carrying a pack." Means "mountain-climbing person."

"Climb Every Mountain." The Big Damn Song from 'The Sound of Music'. God's favorite tune and the corporate mandate of Heaven, the inhabitants of which do not understand this message or live these values at all. Crowley and Aziraphale get the themes of this musical but seem to have yet to figure out how much they are like the lead characters or that they're in a story that partially parallels this musical.

Maggie. Nickname for (and name derived from) Margaret. Shares a root name with Greta.

Greta. Witnessed Crowley turn up to protect Aziraphale in the church, in a scene in which had matrimonial undertones. Her recruiting of Aziraphale-- that relationship-- prompted Crowley into a romantic gesture.

"...American expression-- played for suckers!" and Aziraphale's gasp at the reveal of Rose as Greta. This all happened *before* Crowley came into the scene. Crowley then confirmed that the trio were "a bunch of half-witted Nazi spies" and that Greta was not really British intelligence.

Maggie. Her talk with Crowley-- which she talked Nina into doing-- prompts Crowley into something circling close to a proposal before it all went off the rails.

"...human expression-- hold that thought!" and Aziraphale's gasp at the reveal by Crowley that the being who had arrived was The Metatron. Crowley, as we'll look at in another meta, is the one who actually helps "the Greta" of this scene hide his identity-- against his will... the mirrored opposite of 1941.

Sister Margareta. The sweet but kind of empty-headed nun that defends Maria during "(How Do You Solve a Problem Like) Maria" in 'The Sound of Music'. As all the other nuns are bashing Maria to The Mother Abbess and saying that she doesn't have what it takes to be a nun, Sister Margareta sings that she'd "like to say a word on her behalf/Maria/makes me/laugh."

Gabriel. Sister Margareta.

Gabriel is Margareta-- is Margaret, is a Peggy. Crowley is Baraqiel-- is Rose, is a Sue. So, Gabriel and Crowley together = our third example of a Peggy Sue scenario. The conflict of Aziraphale between Gabriel or a statue of Gabriel-- representing Heaven-- and Crowley... visually represented in the sushi scene (Crowley presence in significant absence) and in 1827, etc...

Also, just for those who watched Mad Men and think the idea of "Don" being "a Peggy" is fun because Don Draper and Peggy Olson were two peas in a pod...

Back to Good Omens... and over to Gabriel's first scene. So, what famously doesn't our favorite nun Sister Margareta aka Jimbriel do?

Aziraphale-- and the audience-- might not realize it at first but Gabriel is actually not really pointing at the sushi in this scene... at least not exclusively. He doesn't actually comment on the sushi at all, even when it's what Aziraphale defends. What's grossing out The Supreme Archangel here is the tea. The tea is at what Gabriel is pointing when he says "that" and on what he remarks when he tells us what he does not do as a character:

"I do not sully the celestial temple of my body with... rose matter."

The "Rose Matter." The "Peggy Sue" conflict. Aziraphale's core conflict of being a good angel versus being a good person and how his love for Crowley is at the nexus of all of that. First alluded to in the sushi scene. Gabriel informs us right at the start that he'll be peacing out of all of that nonsense lol-- he doesn't give enough of a fuck to be all that concerned as to what their abusers think of them and he'll be around later to teach Aziraphale how to drink far less of "the tea"-- what people say-- at some point. He doesn't quite yet get his own role in why Aziraphale does at that point in 1.01 but he'll start to as a result of S2.

Finally, there's that Gabriel just thinks tea itself-- the beverage-- is disgusting, setting Gabriel up for his hot chocolate orgasm in S2. He's going to "dump the tea in the harbor" in S2 as the resident "American" angel, after all. No "Peggy Sue" pining rose-related shit for Gabriel, thanks-- just "Everyday."

But also...

Rose Matter. Rose petals. Components of rose tea. Gabriel's comment tells us what Aziraphale ordered to drink at the sushi restaurant in 1.01, when he was supposed to meet Baraqiel for dinner. Who is Crowley. Ya know, this Crowley...

...ooh la la, Aziraphale...

Gabriel does not sully the celestial temple of his body with rose matter but Aziraphale consumes all sorts of-- ahem, right, anyway! this was about The Devil lol...

Kleinschmidt. Klein = "small". Greta is a small person-- she is not empathetic, not kind, not forward-thinking. "Schmidt" = "smith", as a blacksmith/metalworker. Someone who makes tools. Kleinschmidt = Small toolmaker.

"And you will be a tool of that glorious destiny." What Hastur tells Crowley in 1.01 when he tells him that Satan has picked him to usher Armageddon and the demonic victory the demons assume will happen.

Toolmaker. The Devil. Kleinschmidt. Small toolmaker. Greta is "the little devil"-- the small plot that both foreshadows and sets up the big one with The Devil himself.

A church. Where the Nazis meet Aziraphale in 1941. Its pastor is nowhere to be found and its altar has been claimed by Nazis, who are planning to murder Aziraphale in this church. A "holy" place that seems of Heaven (the side of "good", supposedly, not really) but is actually evil.

"The Metatron." The being to whom Aziraphale speaks in the Final 15 of 2.06. Seems of Heaven. Actually The Devil.

First little mini post on this topic:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #good omens meta #good omens theory #good omens 2 #the metatron #final fifteen #the final fifteen #final 15 #ineffable divorce #archangel fucking gabriel

[jackhues]

maybe do a fic for jack hughes based on the song 2 much by justin bieber

ooh, hope you like this!

say "love you" under my breath, more times than you can digest

you sat forward, telling jack all about your day. from the moment you woke up, to the two of you sitting down on your kitchen floor, sharing everything.

jack smiled as he listened to you, muttering a soft "i love you," under his breath.

"what was that?" you asked, pausing your story.

jack was tempted to tell you, but he merely shook his head and allowed you to continue.

he'd much rather hear your voice.

music every time i hear your name, oh

"how's y/n?" nico asked jack one day after practice. "i haven't seen her in forever. i'm craving one of her chocolate chip cookies."

"oh, yeah, she's amazing," jack grinned stupidly, just the sound of your name bringing him joy.

nico noticed immediately, smiling to himself as he admired how in love you two were.

your head's laying right on my chest, sun's up but i still ain't got no rest

jack ran his fingers through your hair softly, admiring you.

you slept with your head on his chest and arms wrapped around him, as if he was a body pillow instead of a human. jack didn't care.

he was too busy spending the night thinking of how lucky he was anyways.

don't wanna close my eyes, i'm scared i'll miss too much

jack had just come back from a late game, and was laying on the couch with you, watching a movie.

he was tired and sleepy, but he kept his eyes open, refusing to let himself fall asleep.

"jack, honey, i think you need sleep," you whispered, running your fingers through his hair. "you look exhausted."

"i'm okay," jack whispered, yawning immediately after that statement.

"alright, let's go to bed," you decided, turning the t.v. off and leading jack towards your room.

don't wanna fall asleep, i'd rather fall in love

jack lay next to you, holding you close.

even though he was exhausted, he didn't want to sleep. he'd rather hold you close, trace your features in the dark.

he'd rather fall in love.

#naqia writes! #naqia's blurb weekend! #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fanfiction #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes fic #jack hughes fluff #jack hughes x y/n #new jersey devils #new jersey devils blurb #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils imagine #new jersey devils imagines

[bp4545]

First Day Back (My Sunshine - Part 1)

Word count: 2000 give or take

Warnings: None

Summary: It's your first day back at Hogwarts in Fifth year, and you meet your friends again after break...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6.

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

You yawned as you dug your head into the pillows. The sunlight had leaked into your Hufflepuff dorm room, and you winced as the sunshine made contact with your eyes. 

"Come on sleepyhead. We're gonna be late for breakfast, or I'll leave without you."

You heard Hannah, your dorm mate, yell at you from the other side of the dorm. You groaned and pushed the sheets off your body. You took a look at Hannah to find her all dressed up, it looked as if she'd been awake for a few hours now just getting herself ready. 

"You look nice?" you complimented her.

She did look stunning, she was a very gorgeous girl. She was wearing her Hufflepuff uniform, robes with the yellow and black striped tie, but there was something different about her face. She must've caught you staring in concentration.

"I was trying out some muggle makeup" she said "It's taken hours just to get both of my eyelids looking the same, it would've been much easier just using a charm to fix it up, I don't know how the muggles do it" she laughed.

You joined in with her laughter. You fixed your glasses on your face and started searching around the room floor in hopes of finding your school robes somewhere. You found them in the corner, a bit crumpled and had some potions stains at the bottom. You fixed it up with a charm and put it on. You sighed as you looked at the mess of your hair in the mirror. You attempted to tame your (straight/curly/wavy) hair, and ended up just using a claw clip because it just suited your sleepyhead aura at the moment. You put on some lip gloss that your muggle friends had given you over Christmas break.

You decided that you were ready enough to go to breakfast, plus you were starving. You were so starving that your stomach started speaking to you. 

"Okay, I'm ready now we can go" you told Hannah

"About time" she chuckled.

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

As you made it to the first breakfast in fifth year, you took a look around at the people around you. After break, a lot of the boys and girls in your year had matured. Girls around you were gorgeous, and the guys had all done some working out and grown taller. You couldn't lie, some of those guy friends of yours were starting to fit under that category. You walked with Hannah up to the Hufflepuff tables, and you met your other Hufflepuff friends Justin and Zach. 

"Hey y/n" Justin said, a smirk played on his lips as he saw you looking up at him in awe. Yes. Looking up at him. 

Justin looked awfully great. It was scary how much a person could change over Christmas break. His arms were muscular, his short, dirty blonde hair was grown out now, and it fell over his forehead. You just wanted to run your hands through his locks, because they looked so soft and tempting. He was much taller than you now, before you two seemed to meet eye to eye, but now he was clearly a whole head taller, and you weren't complaining.

You had always considered Justin one of your guy best friends. You had a few, and that was because you had a lot of friends form a lot of different houses. You had friends from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor. You only had one friend form Slytherin, and that was Daphne Greengrass. She was a lovely girl, and she didn't let your house or blood affect your friendship. You didn't quite like her younger sister though, Astoria. She was stuck up, annoying, and bratty- to you. She would put on an innocent act in front of everyone else, and what was just as unfair was that she was extremely beautiful. She was gorgeous. It just wasn't fair.

You snapped out of your thoughts and replied to Justin after what seemed like an eternity of being lost in thoughts.

"Hey Justin" You replied, copying the smirk across his face.

You couldn't help it but you just gave him a hug. You were great friends after all, and hugging was normal at that point for you. You did end up running your hands through his hair. He chuckled at your actions in which you just raised an eyebrow at him. You giggled after that and let go from the embrace. You walked up to Zach and also gave him a hug. He had also gotten much taller and his brown wavy locks were grown out and sharply shaven to give a clean finished look. Zach had always been taller than you so hugging him didn't seem much different. You could tell that he had switched to a different cologne, however. 

The four of you chattered at the Hufflepuff tables in the great hall, eating breakfast and discussing all sorts of exciting things that happened over break. After a good hour of talking you decided to go look for your other friends from other houses. You wanted to see who else had matured and grown over the break.

You went over to the Ravenclaw tables first, where you greeted Luna, who was looking gorgeous as always. You two had discussion for a while, but the conversation was interrupted by a tall black haired boy who was seemed to take an interest in Luna. You then walked up to the Gryffindor table.

You had a lot of friends in Gryffindor, and yes, you were also friends with the Golden trio. You weren't extremely close to them, but you were close enough to them to have comfortable and interesting conversations. As you were walking to the tables you felt muscular arms wrap your waist from behind. It took you by surprise at first, but you immediately knew who it was when you smelt his cologne and saw a few ginger strands of hair.

"How's my favourite Gryffindor?" you chuckled. You heard a deep chuckle in return. Damn his voice has matured too.

You laughed and turned around to face Chris. He was muggleborn just like you, which was probably why the two of you got along so well. He had also matured over the break, though he was equally just as charming as the year before. He had definitely been working out during the break, and you could tell, and his jawline was more prominent. His freckles dusted his pale mature face in a majestic way, and his hair looked more dull ginger, instead of bright orange like previous years. He had always been insecure of his hair, he considered going blonde a few times, but you kept talking him out of it, because in all honesty you loved his ginger hair, and you thought it brought out his eyes. He was one of your more mature guy friends, and he was a great one too. You could come to him for advice, or just to cry, and you knew that he was always there for you, unless he was having a bad day, he could be really disregarding, which was one thing you found very annoying about him. He could be as cold as Draco Malfoy. You thought.

"I'm good y/n. You look good, did you do something different with your hair?" He looked into your eyes, focused, which made you a bit nervous, as much as you didn't like to admit it. It was mostly because he looked so much better, as did everyone else in this freaking school, and you sort of looked the same.

You were quite insecure of the way you looked, or more just you face. You never considered yourself pretty, nor had you heard anyone else consider you as pretty. People mainly knew you for your friendliness and willingness to get to know new people. Sure, you loved your body, you wouldn't change a thing about it, but your face? That was a different story. You didn't like your smile, or your acne, or your eyes, which were a boring colour. You didn't like your hair, which was also such a boring colour with such plain texture. You didn't like how your lips were shaped, or the way your nose sat on your face, your jawline wasn't sharp, you squinted too much when you smiled, and you just saw everything wrong with your face. You swore to yourself that was the only reason why you were single. You didn't see any other reason why; you had a wonderful personality.

"No" you replied to him, "I don't think my hair looks that different, it looks the same as always."

"I think it looks good in the claw clip though." he reassured you with a honest smile.

"Thanks" You shot him a smile back, suddenly insecure of how much of your eyes he could actually see, in case you were squinting too much.

"Have you noticed how everyone has been having glow ups over break?" you quickly changed the subject to hide the fact that you were starting to feel a bit insecure standing next to him.

"Yeah I've definitely noticed. You look great too after the holidays" He said calmly "N-not saying you didn't look great before" he panicked slightly, he always did that when he thought he might've said something wrong.

"No its alright" you laughed, slightly amused at his panic "I don't think I look much different, which kinda sucks. Everyone in this entire school is looking damn fine now, and I guess I just missed the memo" you laughed again, a bit dryly.

"No, don't say that-" he placed a hand on your shoulder, but he wasn't looking at you, he was looking at someone behind you. 

"Where are you..." You trailed off and looked in the direction he was looking. He was looking at two people behind, Draco and Blaise. You watched Chris's face, and you could see him clenching his teeth. He loathed Draco Malfoy with a passion. Draco constantly made fun of his ginger hair, and his muggle background. Draco had never commented on your muggleborn heritage though, which you found slightly odd, seeing as you and Chris were around each other most of the time.

You took a look at the boy who was walking with his mate. His straight platinum blonde hair looked as fine as ever, and as much as you disliked him for bullying some of your closest friends, you couldn't argue that he has very charming. You stared a while longer at the Slytherin Prince, he looked so handsome over break. His eyes were a pale blue, he had a muscular figure that was slender. He had a sharp jawline, and an attractive expression on his face. His white button down and black pants looked perfect as it covered his tall towering figure, and his hand was holding onto a glass of water, his pale, long, slender fingers wrapped around the cup. Gosh I wonder what those fingers could do.

You quickly expelled any traces of any inappropriate thoughts about Draco Malfoy. I mean it was no secret that he slept with many girls in your year at Hogwarts. 

Just as you snapped out of your thoughts, you were about to stop staring at the boy until he stared right back at you. His blue eyes pierced yours, and you were someone who didn't blush easily, but you were sure you were blushing because of the heat at your face. As Draco looked at you a little longer, you noticed that his blue eyes looked happier, he didn't have a scowl on his face, his eyes didn't look like they were filled with disgust, even when they looked at Chris. It was almost like he was a different person, yet the same. 

"Y/n are you okay?" Your head quickly turned back to Chris, and your blush disappeared almost instantly

"Yeah" you said, absentmindedly "Let's... Let's go back to the Hufflepuff tables"

---

a/n: this was not proofread, there isn't much exciting stuff going on so far in the series but I promise it will get better:) I'm sort of just setting the foundation of the story for now, I hope you enjoyed it!

#harry potter #draco fanfiction #draco imagine #angst #draco #draco malfoy #harry potter universe #draco angst #draco fluff #fluff #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #hp fandom #hp fanfic #hp fic #series #my sunshine

[lydiablackblade]

What I need today to cope with the S2 ending #1.

Today I want to see that everyone on Whickber Street is silently and in mutual understanding teamed up to support Crowley after Aziraphale had left.

He is not a daily guest anymore but he pops up time to time to do a quick check on the bookshop and on Muriel.

And when he does, Nina makes sure he always gets his shots of espresso and never let him go without it. Sometimes she offers different kind of roasts just to "survey".

Maggie recommends him small indie rock bands he might not know and she even gives him CDs so he can listen to them in the Bentely (only for him, she still sells vinly for the customers)

Mr Arnold invites him to his jazz band's gigs (they are playing quite good, tho) and as fellow Dr. Who enthusiasts sometimes they have a long conversation about how the Tardis works (Crowley knows it better anyway)

When Crowley is at Nina's, Mrs Sandwich comes over, sits to his table and shares every saucy gossip from the neighborhood whispering loud enough to let everyone hear them. She even manages to make him some sort of smile sometimes. Even some snores.

Mrs Cheng regularly invites him to her restaurant to eat with her family. (He rather drinks than eat, but still. And he'd never admit but he likes how the Cheng family shares the food with each other)

When he "dines" at the Marguerite's (I mean ordering something and stare at it then go for the alcohol) - Justine makes sure he always get an extra glass of wine and let him sit all night at the table until they close just brooding and playing with the utensils.

Mutt and his spouse managed tempting him once participating to one of their classic D&D game nights with their friends. It was a rather good evening but miraculously the dice was always in Crowley's favor somehow.

Even Mr. Brown of Brown's World of Carpets tried to have a small talk with him at the pub. Although he still doesn't know if Crowley was an escort or sugar boy (too old to be called boy honestly) who grew attached to his client too much or if he's a mob member or what was the real nature of his relationship to the former bookshop owner with whom he was seemingly glued together, but he thought he knows the feeling very well ghosted by Mr Fell, so why cannot he give comfort this poor fellow? After two minutes of trying to have conversation he practically run away from the pub bumping into tables and customers in panic. Nobody knows for sure what happened, all they saw was the ginger goth pushed back his shades to his nose and someone sweared he had heard hisses and a saw sudden flick of change of Crowley's face to something monstrous, but he was drunk already so no one believed him.

And for Crowley's utter surprise, once when he killed the time in St. James's Park, the Azerbaijani Sector Chief dropped a big bag of frozen peas next to him to feed the ducks and gave him a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder then moved on without a word. The human of course had no idea what had happened, all he knew this person now sits alone on the bench radiating sorrow without the blond man next to him. He lost comrades during his many years of service, so he could recognize the signs. "That's the nature of our profession buddy, but you'll be alright" he messaged with his act.

And Crowley honestly doesn't understand why everyone is so kind to him.

#good omens #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable divorce #whickber street #i turn it into a series for myself #what I need today to cope with the S2 ending

[missmyloko]

First of all, thank you very much for sharing information about the dances, Justine! Most of the links don't work anymore, but I have another question: are these dances related to Kyoto specifically or just a specific school? So let's say can different schools dance dance A, and also if not geimaiko but a regular dancer dances dance A would it be possible? Also, how old can the dances be? Are there any "modern" dances or dances that the teachers make up like in a regular dance school?

I'm basically going to meet a maiko (hopefully) during my future trip to Japan and I wonder if I can request a specific dance or at least be able to tell the difference and appreciate the art.

Thank you as always

They're related to the specific schools themselves, so if it's danced in Kamishichiken then it's part of the Hanayagi repertoire and can be danced by any student of the Hanayagi school. Dances can be made up by the iemoto at anytime, so there are definitely modern dances, but some dances in the repertoires of some schools can go back hundreds of years! When it comes to requesting a dance you have to keep in mind seasonality as some dances are only performed at certain times of the year. For example, Momiji No Hashi is only danced in the autumn as it has to do with the changing maple leaves, whereas Hanagasa is only danced in the spring. However, you could always request a year-round dance like Kyo No Shiki to be on the safe side (as a side note: it may be tempting, but don't request the Gion Kouta. Geimaiko have to perform that dance very, very often and kinda get sick of it, so give them a break and ask for something else) ^^

[wonda-fhr]

Here are two short scenes about a normal evening of my favorite mob boss Justin Rosedale. It's time to shed some more light on him.

Different kisses

"Why don't you ever eat with us, Boss?" The blunt question earns Ward some scowls from his comrades, who have learned not to question the boss's quirks, but to accept them.

Justin smiles, as he always does. A smile that doesn't give the slightest hint of his true mood, but still lulls you into a sense of security. But his tone is light and playful, this kind of curiosity doesn't seem to bother him.

"I just want to spare you the lipstick on the cutlery." He always eats alone, eating brings too much movement to the facial muscles. A weak spot for the artificial skin that he has neatly applied to his face, and which has not been noticed by those around him. He is always paying attention to whether people's eyes or thoughts are searching for the flaws in his face. But either his crew doesn't care about his face at all, or his total artwork of hair, skin prosthetics and makeup works so well that they really haven't noticed anything yet.

Amused, Justin swipes an olive from Ward's pizza, winks, places it on his tongue, and lets it slowly disappear behind his blood-red lips. "Don't worry, I know how to put things in my mouth."

The others can't hold back their giggles as Ward blushes slightly. "I told you never to mess with the boss, my friend." Pelayo teases Ward even more, having a great time. Slowly, Justin creeps around the table until he is next to Pelayo, who has been teasing Ward lately for any attention paid to Justin. His fingers dance over Pelayo's shoulders, who puts down his silverware and stiffens, as if he has to brace himself for an attack he can't stop.

"You're telling your friend not to ask me a question that makes him curious? Even though the same question can be read as clearly in your own mind as if you were speaking it? And there are others…" Unexpectedly, Justin presses his lips to Pelayo's, who puts his hands on his own thighs to resist the temptation to touch his boss. Grinning diabolically, Justin straightens up and releases the stunned Mexican from the kissing attack.

"There you go, my dear. Now you can find out for yourself how bad lipstick really is when it comes to washing dishes." The rest of the crew go wild with amusement while Justin, smiling coquettishly, retreats to let his people finish their meal in peace.

He listens in fascination to the thoughts of the others while staring at his phone, seeing nothing, and is startled when it suddenly begins to vibrate in his hand. A short message, like the ones he often receives. 'I'm leaving now,' Chen writes, no invitation, no control, just the information that he's going to the dog park now and complete freedom for Justin to do what he wants with that information.

"Everything okay, boss?" asks the calm voice of Boris, who is on his way to the fridge with two glasses. So often underestimated how attentive he is, Justin thinks, putting the smile back on his face, the absence of which Boris had noticed.

"Everything is fine, don't worry. I'm going to go for a walk. Take the garbage with you, I don't want to be greeted by the smell of pizza tomorrow. Bye, sweethearts." With a perfect smile on his lips, he waves to his crew once more, throws on the pink jacket with the fur collar and disappears outside.

-

Half an hour later he enters the dog park. Normally he would be more inconspicuous in this place, but there was no time to change. The pale light from the few lanterns casts deep black shadows and makes the park seem ghostly. The sounds of the few dogs that are still on the move seem more menacing when you see their happily jumping figures interrupted by the deep blackness. As if they were teleporting from one cone of light to another.

A gray figure emerges from a deep shadow and races toward him. Spoon jumps around, happy to have found his playmate, and snatches at the fur collar that is a tempting toy. The happy dog makes no attempt to leave his side, even though Chen is nowhere to be seen.

Justin gives Spoon his full attention, taking off his jacket and letting him chase the fur. He hates being tested like this, he's just not sure if Chen is testing his ability to find him or the strength of his own control over his mind. After a few minutes of boisterous romping and a dusty jacket with drooled fur, Justin straightens up and his green eyes cut into one of the impenetrable shadows.

"The harder you try to hide, the faster I know where you are. You're thinking the wrong way."

Slowly, the discovered man saunters closer. "Wrong way?"

"Suppressing thoughts frantically shines brighter than if you were just thinking about yellow ducklings."

"I'll remember that." Chen's expression softens, he keeps his hands in his pockets, not trusting them to keep the necessary distance. One kiss and everything has become much more complicated than it already was. "I'm glad you came."

"Let's walk a bit and talk about the dog or something. Come on, Spooni, let's go." Jumping exuberantly, he quickly motivates the dog back to another round of chasing the jacket.

"I was once told by a woman that the Greyhound is a very stately, noble breed of dog. When I see him tearing up your jacket, I see very little nobility in him."

Laughing, Justin interrupts the game and falls in step beside Chen, and they continue their walk through the shadows. "The woman was right, Alexander the Great had a greyhound and King Canute of England once decided that only nobles could keep one, every commoner was punished for it. So you should be thankful every day that you can call such a noble animal your friend."

Chen chuckles softly, unable to take his eyes off the inscrutable colorful creature at his side. " Why do you know such a thing?"

"Why not? Some time ago, I had the wish to have a dog. I read a pretty extensive encyclopedia about dog breeds, and I don't forget what I read." A sad undertone colors Justin's voice, and no standard smile hides his emotions. Here at the dog park, life is a little more real for him. The dogs never fell for his facade, so it became unnecessary.

"What kind of dog did you want?" Chen takes his chance, in this area he can sympathize, maybe create a more stable connection or just find a new facet.

Justin smiles thoughtfully, briefly lost in one of the few fond memories of the past few years. "I kept a neighbor's dog when she was in a car accident and had to stay in the hospital for a few weeks. He was the most wonderful animal I have ever known. He was so charming and cheerful that he always managed to make me laugh. His name was Hector and he was a black pug. Such a wonderful companion that so many people just call ugly and don't take a closer look. I felt terrible when she picked him up again."

"I remember how it is." Chen leaves it open, but Justin clearly senses that he knows both statements from experience. "Why didn't you get your own?"

"Because it wouldn't be fair to drag a dog into my messed up life just because I would like to have a friend."

"Says the man who lives a middle class life in hero's retirement, without danger and excitement?" Chen stops and looks at Justin's back, who stops a few steps later.

Justin takes a deep breath and abruptly turns on his heel, energetically closing the distance to Chen until their noses almost touch. He stares icily into Chen's eyes and his voice hisses a cold "Leave it Chen!"

But Chen doesn't back down an inch. "Never," he says calmly, but the "kiss me" of his thoughts rings louder in Justin's head. Chen still has his hands in his pockets. He doesn't reach for him, doesn't say anything, doesn't push, just lets the thought speak for itself and waits to see what happens.

Justin raises his hand to Chen's face, sliding the back of his hand across his cheek before tracing his lips with a blood-red nail. He can feel Chen's tension rising, though he remains calm and completely restrained. "I've kissed so many lips that I thought I knew everything about it. Until you made me feel like I knew nothing. You're going to destroy me, Wei Chen. And there's nothing I can do but knowingly walk into my doom."

Without haste, Justin places his lips on Chen's, deeply imprinting every second in his memory, from the first gentle contact to the devoted play of their tongues. When their eyes meet again, he pulls Chen's hand from his pocket and gently places it on his left cheek. Justin shudders at the touch he has caused himself. Then, without another word, he disappears into the shadows of the night.

The picture always reminds me of him. Hidden in the darkness between his glitz and glamour.

#fhr #fhr sidestep #justin rosedale #my most unpredictable and recalcitrant darling #steelstep #spoon is also there

[astroismypassion]

Hi girl...

I hope you are doing great......

I wanted to ask about my juno in scorpio sign in 3rd house in scorpio degree (20 degree)...

Hello girl!

you might have 2, 3 marriages or very serious, long-term, committed relationships

you might want a partner that is equal to you whatever that equal means to you

you want someone on the same intellectual, emotional, educational wavelength

you are posessive, territorial and easily jealous

you might have a spouse with a health issue (a chronic one or just very serious) or even overuse of substances

you might work with your spouse

your you will start a project or side business together

you will enjoy travelling

you want well-educated, open-minded partner

you understand that being in a romantic relationship with you is A CHOICE, conscious choice that one makes

you want charming, sweet, harmonious, peaceful partner

your partner could be a bit of a flirt, but also very respectful

you want a special connection only between you two (you could even get jealous if you have children and you partner pays more attention to them than you or something similar)

you like someone bold, decisive, strong and physically fit

you might be attracted to looks of others, can be a bit superficial so be mindful of that

you might dream of a perfect wedding

your spouse can make you feel anxious or that you start to worry too much as a result of knowing them

You can also find my post just about Scorpio Juno.

💔 SCORPIO JUNO 💔

-first of all, they are all really unique individuals with a complex character, they are far from superficial, really engimatic personalities

-the types to get a tattoo with your name, because you most likely transformed a part of them (or at least this is how they view it)

-most likely has "first thought, best thought" mentality, therefore they will think that the first person they dated/married was actually the most likely the "right" one for them

-they have this thing with surname... if you take their surname, they will really feel proud of you and want "showcase" it in a way. And I think one celebrity example that we can all observe in real life is the Biebers. When Hailey Baldwin married Justin Bieber (who is a Scorpio Juno), she started wearing Bieber necklace, jackets with the name on it

-but the other side of it, I noticed, is that when things get worse in marriage/committed relationship with Scorpio Juno and if for example there is a divorce, they will definitely WON'T like you keeping their surname or anything associated with them. They only like the idea of sharing when actually together.

-they usually circle between these 3 (or more) ex partners they had. Has a tendency to go back to previous ones, if the current one is not working for them, just because "they have so much shared history".

-Yeah...did I mention this Scorpio Juno is not that keen on getting to know new people and accepting them in their inner circle, that's why they prefer choosing people from the past, that they have history with

-they can be really magnetic, charming, hard to resist and just tempting, very impressionable

-partner of Scorpio Juno probably thought at least once to get back with them at some point in their life

-this goes more into taboo side of it, some of them are prone to be either chain smokers or rely too heavily on an escaptistic substance, however they all weirdly EXCEL at sports . They usually really perfect a craft of certain sport that they pick and are really good at 3, 4 different sports too

-they take an end of a relationship really really serious, almost like an end of an era for them

-you probably heard that get jealous and territorial of their partner right? Not so much from what I observed. It manifests more as being jealous of relationships of other people. They really compare their relationship to that of others.

Keep hydrated,

@astroismypassion

#astrology #astroismypassion #scorpio juno #scorpio #juno in the 3rd house #astro note #astro notes #astrology blog #juno in astrology #juno at 20 degree #juno at scorpio degree #natal chart #astrology observation

[perpetualexistence]

Noah's Development in the Alley Cats AU

Noah's character development is about accepting the fact that he's questioning his sexuality and that it's okay to not know something about himself. That definitely wasn't where the idea started. Going into this AU, all I knew is that I wanted Noah to have been exiled because he had beef with Justin, tried to 'Hell Hath No Fury' him, and lost. As I started thinking about what kind of conflict to give them, I couldn't help but think of the oldest trick in the book: the jilted lover. I love me some delicious irony in having a logical character being the one with the bleeding heart.

As I started thinking about, I couldn't help but do what I normally do when writing conflict: Think about why the characters are actually made at each other. I was tempted to just make it about pride, but then my mind wandered, as it tends to do, and I started thinking about Noah's sexuality.

Part of it was inspired by this post about Noah being a queercoded character. Please do give it a read if you like looking at queer analysis/rep in media. For me, even when I ship something like Noaheather I don't do so by making Noah straight. It just doesn't sit right with me. I'd make him any other letter in the LGBTQ+ umbrella that still makes it work rather than straight.

I know the fandom's probably got my back with this one given how the biggest ships with Noah are Alenoah, Noco, and Nowen. So why decide to make him Questioning? Well, it's simple. I haven't really seen many narratives that dive into it. I thought it'd be neat to explore if the answer really was just 'I don't know' and learning how to be alright with that. Particularly for a know-it-all character like Noah for whom admitting he doesn't know something would be worse than death. It gives him room to grow, AND it explores something I haven't really seen others dive into. I'm still going to do my best to not have that be the only thing about him, of course. He's still going to do sillies, get revenge, and be a sarcastic little shit.

Ultimately, by whatever the endgame of this AU ends up being, I'm not going to have him decide on a label. He'll still be figuring out what/who he likes or doesn't like. Maybe he's in a transition phase, maybe he is still just asexual all along with occasional bits of attraction. Either way, the important thing is the rest of Team CIRRRRH has his back no matter what.

I'm actually going to fight against myself by not shipping him with anyone in this AU. I want to see what'll happen if I just focus on their platonic interactions. I'm not going to completely turn down the idea of something like a queer platonic relationship. But I'm going to do my best to hold off on romance just to see what'll happen. Of course, if any of you guys want to ship them within this AU, don't let me stop you.

That's been Perp on her soap box. Next time we get to this AU, we're going to see how resident angry girl found herself in the social hierarchy time out zone.

#alley cats au #perp rambles #perp writing thoughts

[doubleappled]

About the blogger meme

Thank you to @bioloyg for the tag and the fic callout! Team Pete forever and for always!

Star Sign: Libra, but it never resonates the way my enneagram 2 does

Favorite Holidays: Groundhog Day. I love those little dudes (although I wish we could leave them in peace so maybe let’s just celebrate their existence and not force our way into their homes)

Last Meal: Enchiladas for dinner

Last Music Listened To: Waxahatche’s Great Thunder

Last Movie Watched: hmmmm in the theater? I think Bottoms, which I adored

Last TV Show Watched: Shameless. I’m in the beginning of season 9 and it is messing me up in 5000 different ways. The acting is great (sometimes) and the writing is awful (mostly) and the storylines are ridiculous (always) and it’s at least 5 or 6 seasons too long. But every once in a while it really makes you think, and it’s completely gotten under my skin. And I will finish it if it’s the last thing I ever do. And it might be, because wow.

Last Book/Fic Finished: I just finished Justin Torres’ Blackouts and I LOVED it. And the most recent chapter of @glitterslag’s It's Been You and Me Since Before I Was Me — is a witchy creepy Appalachian Gothic MASTERPIECE that I adore. Oh and Blissymbolics’ Colorless Richie Jerimovich, also a masterpiece even though it is sydrichie and that is giving me a teeny tiny identity crisis okay moving on

Last Book/Fic Abandoned: I am thisclose to giving up on Lessons In Chemistry. I do not get this book at all.

Currently Reading: nobody ever got my soul right like she could by seh28

Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/Hyperfixation: Quite a bit about what happens to children of people wirh narcissistic personality disorder (hi Donna, yes I am armchair psychologizing and pathologizing a fictional character) for the fic I’m currently writing. I’m not a really intense researcher, but I’ve read all about elevator mechanics and ancient marriage rites and British parking tickets and EMP’s 2019 spring menu and how to cook uni and where pastina comes from, all for fics. I love that aspect of writing.

Favorite Online Fandom Memory: It’s embarrassing, but it’s probably the first time that one of my favorite fic authors commented on one of my own fics, ca. 2018. I was on the subway, and I dropped my phone on the disgusting wet floor when I saw the incredibly lovely comment they’d posted.

FaNvorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence: I really only have two old fandoms, but I do miss HP quite a bit. It’s such a robust space, with really nice people, and so many different fests and prompts and challenges. I still read a bit when my favorite authors post, and would like to write for it again someday. (Also, if you’re the anon who’s messaged me multiple times to tell me that my new fics aren’t as good or creative as my HP, and that I “used to be a good writer” — please stop. That’s not the way to convince me to go back, and it makes me feel bad)

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did: Truly I’ve never experienced a hyperfixation like I have with The Bear. I wish fanfic had existed in its current state when I was younger, or that I’d been cool enough to figure out the concept and write it on my own. I would have been VERY ACTIVE in a Dead Poets Society fandom if it had existed when I was obsessed with that movie, a decade after it came out, when I watched it practically every day for a year 🤪

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/Don't Have Time For: I just have 15 different Bear WIPs, none of which have any plot, wooo!

Anyway this was all very fun to think about. Tagging @amieraisposting @kdbleu @justabovewater20 @yannaryartside @glitterslag — only if this is your jam — and anyone else who wants to join in.

#ask meme #nice way to spend an evening avoiding the nonsense I really should be doing

[pathofregeneration]

Justin Estcourt, Buddha (Illustration from Chapter V of Astral Conversations)

* * *

Wise Thoughts

“ALL things are one. This applies to thoughts also, for thoughts are things and have substance, weak or strong, according to the strength or weakness of the thinker’s will and imagination. The Astral Light in which we dwell preserves, as upon a photographic plate, all the thoughts that man has ever thought, and those whose minds sincerely seek the truth of all things, will contact the thoughts of other thinkers, and so obtain the knowledge they are qualified to receive. …

Like unseen seeds from Heaven, do the wise thoughts of good men and women descend from the higher realms to earth, entering the minds of those attuned to their Divine harmonies, to blossom in kindly deeds and noble aspirations, whether in this life, or lives to come. Such, my dear Friends is the power of thought, which may bless or curse, depending upon the wisdom or ignorance of the thinker and the intention behind the thought. Always remember this when the tongues of the foolish offend you and tempt you to send forth like for like, so adding to the ocean of wrong thinking which infects the minds of men, instead of dispelling it. … Have charity for those who do not know the taste of genuine things, having fed all their lives on fantasy and drunk from the muddied waters of forgetfulness, ever seeking, never finding, because they do not know where or how to look for Truth. Stretch forth a helping hand to them, for in this way you liberate both them and yourselves from the bonds of ignorance.” 

— A. Listener, Astral Conversations (via Aula Lucis)

#Justin Estcourt #Buddha #Art #Beauty #Painting #Visionary #Wise Thoughts #Thought #Astral Light #Inspiration #Liberation #Truth #Wisdom #Astral Conversations #Aula Lucis