#syracuse: start

[princeturveydrop]

I need a Skywalker twins Comedy of Errors AU: one of them has to crossdress because reasons (disguise?), they have identical droids (named DRM-10), get mistaken for each other, hijinks ensue

[zykamiliah]

sinbad legend of the seven seas remains a classic, not only for being the one movie to have eris but ALSO because it's the one movie where one character is in happy unrequited love with his runaway best friend

[coeurdeverre82]

i wanna be your boyfriend at jabberwocky syracuse jan 26 1977

[yadivagirl]

Okay, I did it!

I'm registered, hotel booked, flight paid for to return to my alma mater in September for a reunion weekend!

[natalieironside]

I brought some ancient Greek philosophers back from the dead cuz I wanted to start a prank channel but they started asking me stuff about the modern world and now they won't quit making fun of me cuz my city doesn't have any gates. Zeno of Syracuse called me a "no-gate-having ass barbarian idiot." He already knew English.

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

The Way I Loved You

Luke Castellan x demeter!Reader

Summary: "But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / And it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name / So in love that you act insane"

Warnings: angst, possessiveness, jealousy, toxic relationship, fluff ending

Wordcount: 3.3K

Masterlist

A/N A. Yes, it's another Taylor Swift songfic and B. Four fics in five days, I've been cooking

And you were wild and crazy / Just so frustrating, intoxicating, complicated

Ever since Y/N met Luke Castellan, he drove her insane. When they were kids, 13 and 14 respectively, they hated each other. She hated the way he came in and immediately started bossing the campers around. Despite being so young she was the counselor for the Demeter cabin. Her big sister—her only sibling at the time—had tragically died on her way to camp that summer. But instead of mourning the always kind and radiant daughter of Demeter, they mourned the daughter of Zeus no one had ever met. And seeing the way the new boy seemed to soak up the attention made her hate him.

By the time she was 15 they still hated each other but he was all she had. They had both been at camp so long, and lost so many of their siblings and friends, both could hardly remember life without the other. But they still argued like children. So whenever they had bickered so much that Chiron or Mr. D got tired of it, they’d send them to do a chore together. They spent long hours cleaning the showers, stables, infirmary, doing practically every undesirable chore together that they finally started to talk.

Luke got to know her and understand why she hated him. And she had learned about his life and gained sympathy for him.

Soon enough those talks became makeout sessions. They stopped talking but at least they couldn’t fight if their lips were occupied. It was like they were addicted to each other.

Eventually they slid into dating. When they weren’t talking it was great. But someone would inevitably say or do something that made the other mad.

~

“Why were you flirting with him?” Luke demanded, slamming the door of the Demeter cabin.

“What are you talking about? I was training him. You know? Doing my job!”

“It wasn’t just training and you know it.”

“Gods you’re so insecure and possessive.”

“You’re the one who begged me to commit to you. Of course I’m gonna worry about my fucking girlfriend.”

“I did not beg you.”

“Yes you did. You’re the insecure one. You just needed to put a label on it and screw everything up.”

~

“You were supposed to meet me by the lake an hour ago!” Y/N stormed into the room.

“Oh crap. I’m so sorry babe,” he apologized. Trying to kiss her and make it go away.

“You do this all the time. I’m never a priority to you!”

“You’re literally my girlfriend. I don’t know what else you want.”

“I’m only your girlfriend because you didn’t want me to date anyone else!”

~

“Why are you packing?” Luke asked.

“You know my cousin who goes to Syracuse? She invited me up for the weekend.”

“So what? You can go party with frat guys?”

“No, so I can party with girls,” she tried to lighten the mood.

But Luke wasn’t consoled.“I don’t want you going to some college and getting drunk.”

“Why?”

“Because so many things can happen. You could get drugged and taken advantage of. You could get attacked. What are you gonna do if a cyclops sniffs you out but you’re too drunk to realize?”

“You’re not actually worried about that you just don’t trust me.”

“Of course I trust you. It’s them I don’t trust.”

“It takes two to tango.”

“Again, you could get roofied.”

“Urgh Luke you’re not listening to me!”

~

They had plenty of arguments. So much so that the Hermes and Demeter campers had a silent agreement to go to each other’s cabins whenever their counselors started arguing.

But toxic relationships can’t go on forever.

It was Y/N’s birthday. She was turning 18. Collectively Camp Half-Blood made a big deal about birthdays considering that each one literally signified a triumph over death. But Luke couldn’t even be bothered to spend the day with her. When she woke up in his bed, he was already up and putting on his training gear. “‘Morning,” she greeted softly. She tried not to seem too excited about her birthday but all she wanted in that moment was for him to say “happy birthday.”

“Hey,” he smiled. “I'm gonna go train with some of the other campers. The new kids have been excited to watch me fight so…” he said smugly, already halfway out the door. “Just uh make the bed when you leave? Thanks.”

She was left disappointed. Like she always was except for when they were together but not talking.

But almost as soon as she stepped outside she was greeted with several wishes for a good birthday. She nearly cried when she got back to her cabin and found her bunk decorated, small gifts left on her bed from her friends and siblings.

By lunch practically the whole camp had wished her a happy birthday and she was feeling a bit better. She was reading a book she got as a gift, sitting alone at the Demeter table while she ate. Laughter invaded the dining pavilion and she watched as Luke entered along with the campers he had been training. He spotted her, coming over to her table but she didn’t even look up at him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked. No response. “Why are you mad?” Still no response. After a few beats of silence he tried to change the subject. “So what are you reading?” She just held the book up so he could read the title. “Ah. Where’d you get that?”

By now the other campers had grabbed their food and were walking past the Demeter table. “Happy birthday, Y/N,” they each wished as they passed by. She smiled up at each of them as they passed. She only spared a glance at Luke to witness the expression on his face.

“Are-are you mad because you think I forgot your birthday? Of course I didn’t forget your birthday, babe. I’m just uh… saving my surprise for after dinner.”

“Sure,” was all she said, flipping the page.

“No, no,” Luke insisted, coming around to the other side of the table. He straddled the bench, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her close. As he did so he pressed a kiss against her cheek because she was still focused on her book. “You’re gonna love your gift. I swear.”

Luke spent the rest of the afternoon running around trying to put together a surprise. He got Mr. D to summon a small cake. Fortunately Mr. D was the one person in camp that didn’t know or care that it was Y/N’s birthday so he didn’t ask questions. As for the gift, Luke was lost. Anything in the camp store she’d immediately be able to tell wasn’t something he had thought about and anything he already owned she’d recognize as his.

So he went out to the meadow, picking flowers. She was the daughter of Demeter, of course she liked flowers.

So by the time dinner finished, Luke was pretty proud of what he had pieced together despite his limited resources. After everyone had left the dining pavilion, he brought Y/N to the docks where he proudly displayed his hard work. Except when he handed her the flowers, she looked disappointed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

She shook her head. “I know you forgot my birthday. That’s fine. Whatever,” she sniffed passive aggressively. “But you gave me probably the most cop out gift you could think of.”

“What do you mean? You love flowers.”

By now the tears were freely flowing from her eyes. “You know I hate cut flowers because they just die. You could have dug a few up, preserved their roots and repotted them.”

“Okay fine, I’ll plant them.”

But she shook her head. “No, it’s too late.”

“Then I’ll get new flowers.”

“No, not about flowers. It’s too late for us.”

His heart sunk. “What?”

“Luke, I think we should break up.”

“Over a damn gift? Y/N, I’m sorry. I know I dropped the ball but the wrong gift isn’t something you break up over.”

“It’s not about the gift!” she cried. “Luke, we don’t know each other. We’re strangers who are together because it’s convenient. The gift just proves you only know the basics. We’ve been together for two years. Known each other for five. You should know I don’t like cut flowers.”

“So we need to reconnect? We can work through this. Please Y/N, don’t do anything rash.”

She just shook her head again. “You’re not getting it. It’s not even just that we don’t know each other. We can’t talk for more than five minutes before fighting. We’re toxic, Luke.”

“But we’re…”

“Just because we’re all each other has doesn’t mean we’re good together.”

“Y/N, don’t do this. Please.” By now even Luke had a few tears in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Luke. But this is better for both of us.” With that, she walked away from him for the last time.

~~

He can't see the smile I'm faking / And my heart's not breaking / 'Cause I'm not feeling anything at all

Getting over Luke was the hardest thing she ever had to do. She spent several days crying to her younger sister, Katie. She tried to help her sister but the younger girl couldn’t relate, making Y/N just feel more alone. But then a new Athena camper joined and things got better.

Chiron had basically assigned Y/N to show Ben the ropes around camp. He felt bad for the poor girl. No one liked watching her or Luke sulk around camp.

“Ben, I’d like you to meet Y/N. She’s one of our most senior campers and counselor of the Demeter cabin.”

She smiled at the new boy. “Hi. Do you know what cabin you’ll be in yet?”

“Yeah, uh Athena. She claimed me when the satyrs found me,” he answered, already finding himself interested. Chiron tried to hide his smirk realizing the boy’s quickly growing feelings.

“Well you’re one of the lucky ones.”

“I’ve heard.”

“Y/N,” Chiron interrupted, “why don’t you show Ben around? Let him know how we do things around here.”

“Uh, sure. C’mon I’ll give you a tour.” As they went around camp, Ben asked her all sorts of things about herself. Favorite color, favorite flower, who her friends were, what they were like, what she liked to eat and more. All the things Luke should have known.

As they kept going through camp, Ben knew he was already falling for her. And not just because Chiron had talked her up so much as they had approached the daughter of Demeter. He thought she was pretty and smart. And she was so kind to him. Plus, everyone around camp seemed to love her.

Ben’s very apparent interest was much to the chagrin of Luke. He had spent the first couple days of his breakup pretending like everything was alright. An act that proved very unpopular with the rest of camp. But the lonely nights got to him and his siblings could hear quiet sobs and sniffles in the night. But almost as soon as he started showing remorse, this new guy showed up and all of a sudden there was a buzz around camp about the new guy who would replace him.

The excited gossip about his ex and the new boy had literally started from day one. He saw them going through the camp tour a few times that day. After all, Camp Half-Blood is big. And Luke just happens to have to go to the same areas his ex does at the same time. But every time he spotted them he couldn’t help but glare at the new Athena cabin member. Every time he sent her a smile or made her laugh, Luke curled his fist impossibly tighter. His fists became almost perpetually white as the blossoming romance grew over time.

As for Y/N, she was finally healing. Not happy, but healing and Ben was helping with that as time went on and they got closer. He was perfect. Sweet, smart, a gentleman. But he wasn’t Luke.

They spent many nights getting to know each other. He knew her birthday, all her favorites, and made an effort with all her friends. Hell he even made an effort with Luke—an effort the Hermes boy did not appreciate—because he knew Luke was still important to Y/N. When he asked her out he did so with a pot of her favorite flowers which he had Argus help him get.

He knocked on the door of the Demeter cabin which was opened by Katie. “Hey Katie,” Ben greeted Y/N’s favorite younger sister. “Is Y/N home?”

“Yeah, she is.” The young girl called for her and soon enough the object of Ben’s affection was at the door.

“Hey Ben. What’s up?” she asked.

“I just wanted to give you this,” he smiled, handing her the beautifully potted flower. “I know I’m no demigod child of the plant goddess but…”

“No it’s great,” she smiled at him. But her heart was sinking. It wasn’t because of the gift, the gift was perfect actually. But if Luke had been the one to give it to her, her heart would be soaring. “Thank you.”

“And I just wanted to ask you if you uh- wanted to have dinner with me tonight?” he nervously asked.

“Oh well I’d love to,” she smiled. “But uh we can’t table hop at dinner. It’s against the rules,” she laughed nervously, hoping that would be enough to dissuade him.

“That’s not a problem. I got permission from Chiron to let us have dinner together. We just have to be out of the dining pavilion before everyone else gets there at 7.”

Dread kept filling her. She was in too deep now. And he had asked Chiron, she couldn’t just shoot him down. “Well then I’ll see you at 6 then?”

The biggest smile broke over his face. “See you then.”

The entire time at dinner, Y/N wanted to cry. This is not what she wanted. Ben was not what she wanted. But she kept forcing a happy face, hoping that if she could convince Ben she liked him too, she could convince herself.

When he brought her out to the meadow and kissed her, she wanted to dig herself into the ground and die. It was a sweet kiss but it just felt wrong… like there was no chemistry or passion between them.

She was so frustrated with herself. As she looked into Ben’s eyes she wondered why she couldn’t just love him back. Here was this incredibly caring guy who was more than willing to give her everything she was asking for but she just didn’t feel anything.

~~

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

For Luke, seeing Y/N with Ben made a weird dread fill his chest. To him it wasn’t fair that she just got to move on when she was the one that broke up with him. She should be begging for him back right now. And he hated to admit it but he’d take her back in a heartbeat right now.

So when he found her crying on the beach late one night, he didn’t know what to think. But she was still all he had so he approached. “Hey,” he tried to catch her attention gently.

She looked up at him, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes. “Oh, hey Luke,” she tried to play off her tears. “What are you doing here?”

“Came here to think and then I saw you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine.” She gave a strained smile that did nothing to hide the puffiness of her eyes or blotchy skin.

It pained Luke to see her like this. Even more so when he knew he was the cause of her tears at one point. “Are you sure?” he asked, sitting next to her but maintaining her space. “We can talk. I promise it’ll just be a friendly conversation.”

She let out the weakest laugh he had ever heard. “I’m fine. You wouldn’t wanna hear about it anyway,” she dismissed even though Luke was the only person she wanted to talk to. He was the only person who could maybe possibly understand. Her siblings were too young and the only other camper their age was Ben.

“Try me,” Luke challenged, scooting the slightest bit closer.

She looked at him for a while before reluctantly speaking. “It’s Ben. I just… he’s such a great guy. He’s nice, and sweet, and such a gentleman but he’s just not…”

“Just not what?” Luke asked a little eagerly. From a distance she had looked blissfully happy and everyone spoke about how well Ben treated her. But hearing that his ex-girlfriend had a problem with the guy she was dating? Luke was a little too eager to hear about that.

“He’s not you!” She finally admitted. She didn’t miss the way Luke seemed to brighten. “He does nice things for me and he’s so sweet and into me but I’m just feeling nothing at all. It’s like there’s no passion between us.”

“Well you were right. We were toxic but we also had a lot of passion,” Luke tried to lighten the mood. “Look, I don’t mean to sweep in on your most vulnerable moment but I’ve been thinking since the breakup and this is the first time you’ve even looked at me so. I know I treated you like shit and was so possessive. I’m ready to actually commit to you and be your boyfriend instead of just slipping into it because we were already making out when we were younger. I want to give you everything the old me couldn’t or wouldn’t because watching you slip through my fingers was the most painful thing I've ever done. Besides, with more effort I think we could make this work because you don’t fight like we did unless you’re in love. People who don’t love each other just let it fade. They don’t fight.”

She looked like she was in severe pain. “Gods, why couldn’t you have said this three months ago?” Her lips were immediately on his. Luke was a little taken aback but kissed her back, glad to have her in his arms once again.

A few moments later they were promising each other eternity with all the passion in the world. “Forever?” he asked through labored breaths, his fingers intertwined with her hair.

“Forever,” she agreed.

The next day Luke was waiting anxiously in the Hermes cabin. Y/N was ending things with Ben but he was still nervous. What if she decided she wanted to stick with the safer option? He didn’t think he’d be able to handle it if she went back to him after last night.

His thoughts were only quieted when the door opened and he found her standing there. He stood up anxiously but hesitated, still slightly wary that she’d tell him she changed her mind. But she walked towards him, immediately falling into his arms. “Forever?” he asked.

“Forever,” she agreed.

Relieved, Luke pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Forever,” he confirmed for himself.

Masterlist

[etherisks]

Dr. Ratio's bathtub scene. We all know and love it (some more than others) but I have not really seen anyone talk about the references made by it, so I'd like to throw my hat into the ring for a possible interpretation.

So, his first name Veritas—we all know that to be Latin for truth. Though, I'd like to shift focus a bit more towards the Roman Goddess of the same name (whose Greek counterpart was Aletheia). The aspect that I want to focus most on was how she was often depicted as nude - in reference to "nuda veritas" (naked truth). This was also reflected in her Greek equivalent, though Aletheia - despite also meaning truth - is more accurately understood to be translated as "unconcealedness" or "revealing", with the literal meaning of the word (ἀλήθεια) being "the state of not being hidden; the state of being evident." Meanwhile, for Veritas, she was also said to have been an elusive goddess hiding in the bottom of a holy well.

Starting in the mid-1890s, French artist Jean-Léon Gérôme Gérôme ("arguably the world's most famous living artist by 1880") made at least four paintings personifying Truth as a nude woman, either thrown into, at the bottom of, or emerging from a well. This general imagery/story of her hiding in a sacred well arises from a translation of an aphorism of the philosopher Democritus, "Of truth we know nothing, for truth is in a well". The original Greek version (ἐτεῇ δὲ οὐδὲν ἴδμεν: ἐν βυθῷ γὰρ ἡ ἀλήθεια) is seen to literally mean "in reality we know nothing; for the truth is in an abyss". The well in these paintings serves as a substitute for the abyss, and the nudity of the model in these paintings of course also arose from the expression la vérité nue ("the naked truth", in French). There are a lot of interesting things about these paintings (and definitely worth taking a look at - for example, see 'Truth Coming Out of Her Well' on Wikipedia to take a look at a few of those pieces) but all in all I think depicting Veritas as naked in a bathtub could very well be a nod to the naked truth.

Now, a second tidbit that could have also been given a nod to in this scene from the trailer is related to Archimedes — one of the famous Ancient Greek know-it-alls (mathematician, physicist, engineer, astronomer, inventor; is there anything that scholar didn't do...). Anyway, here I'm specifically talking about the famous story where, while taking a bath, he discovered that the displacement of water could be used to accurately measure the volume of irregular objects. This story is also where "eureka" was said to be exclaimed for the first time, the word being attributed to Archimedes generally.

For the more detailed version, he reportedly proclaimed "Eureka! Eureka!" after he had stepped into a bath—and noticed that the water level rose— whereupon he suddenly understood that the volume of water displaced must be equal to the volume of the part of his body he had submerged. Due to this, the previously intractable problem was solved, when he realized that the volume of irregular objects could be measured with precision in this way. He is said to have been so eager to share his discovery that he 'leapt out of his bathtub and ran naked through the streets of Syracuse'. Then, later on, Archimedes' insight led to the solution of an issue posed by Hiero of Syracuse, on how to assess the purity of an irregular golden votive crown; he had given his goldsmith the pure gold to be used, and correctly suspected he had been cheated by the goldsmith removing gold and adding the same weight of silver. The equipment for weighing objects with a fair amount of precision had already existed, and now with Archimedes being able to also measure volume, their ratio could give the object's density—which is an important indicator of purity (in this case due to how gold is nearly twice as dense as silver, ergo having a significantly greater weight for the same volume).

But I digress, the story of discovery being referenced in Veritas sitting in the bathtub was my main point—perhaps a stretch, but if so, then simply an interesting coincidence I stumbled upon. This entire post is already far longer than I expected, so apologies for the ramble-

All this to say, I may just be reading too much into it because I am basically insane and only ever think of him and the connections that every detail of him seems to be implied to have when I should really be doing other things. However, I'd say given the sheer amount of references that Hoyo has hidden in all other parts of his character, it's not as big of a stretch to say this scene may be holding at least one as well (or, I'm just crazy).

Anyway this has been sitting in my mind basically since the trailer came out (like the millions of other things in relation to him) and I haven't seen a lot of talk about this in particular (as opposed to, for example, the much more freely circulated knowledge of the statue references) so figured I'd share my thoughts as some sort of potential discussion point. Moreover, apologies if this is a bit chaotic and all over the place with no clear "point a to point b" thing 😭 Despite being obsessed with everything about this man since day one and crafting elaborate theories and links (I'm also insane about Ancient Greek/Roman philosophers and a lot about that whole time period, especially works of art, so he was perfectly up my alley. Hoyo got me SO good with him, it's unreal) I was never confident enough to actually post them (or in that sense fully write them down in a more essay-esque format as opposed to random bits of notes that had keywords to remind me of what I was thinking of).

Finally stopped beating around the bush and decided why not, so now we're here. ʕ⁠´⁠•⁠ ⁠ᴥ⁠•̥⁠`⁠ʔ Got to actually making a dedicated account where I'll be able to more coherently articulate these things and hopefully provide a different way of thinking in relation to these details...it's always enjoyable to talk about his character and encourage other perspectives~ (and i finally realized I, in fact, do desperately need an outlet to yap about him because the chokehold he's had on me. I need to get it out somehow)

[gold-onthe-inside]

A No Body, No Crime song fic about Spencer’s partner seeking justice for their friend’s murder while trying to hide it from Spencer cuz he’s law enforcement. Maybe Spencer’s also investigating the case somehow - can be xOC

smells like infidelity

who? spencer reid x blake!reader (cont. from wrong person...) content warnings: infidelity, murder, gun violence and overall canon typical violence (i mean it, a person is murdered at the end, do not read if squeamish) word count: 2.2k songs: no body, no crime (duh) by taylor swift + still by niall horan a/n: i genuinely had a lot of fun with this one, thank you anon

If there was anything you had learned from being Alex Blake's goddaughter, it was how bureaucracy worked, or rather stopped things from getting done. The Syracuse PD chief had looked at you very empathetically, assuring you that his best detectives were on the case, which wasn't saying much from the state of his precinct. You'd done your research, looked at the number of solved missing persons cases they'd solved and you knew you had to take matters into your own hands, especially considering they'd let go of your main suspect.

Evelyn, or Evie as you knew her, had looked harried when you'd seen her last, barely eating her pasta, before confessing the greatest motive that could exist in a married woman's disappearance - an extramarital affair. "H-He's just different," Evelyn had said, bags under her eyes. "He's been drinking more, and I know what alcoholism looks like, alright? It'd-It'd be one thing if it was beer or whiskey, but wine? He doesn't drink wine, ever."

"Tastes change, Evie," you'd offered weakly, but even you knew it was suspect.

"Not like this," Evie had insisted, and you were fairly certain a vein was about to pop. "And it doesn't explain the pearls he bought from our account. Do I look like a pearls kind of girl?"

You had shaken your head, if only to appease her. "I have to say something, right?" Evelyn had asked. "I mean, I deserve some kind of explanation, we've barely been married a year!"

You had managed to calm her down enough to finish her meal and dessert, and you'd assured her that you had her back, and to call you if anything happened. She never ended up making that call. Another Tuesday night passed, nothing. You'd called her cell, checked with her workplace, all but her husband, until the police told her that he had already reported her missing. You had thought about telling Spencer, but it had only been a month since the two of you started seeing each other (which had been infuriating to tell Alex, with her smug 'I told you so' face). Instead, you had left Alex a voicemail, telling her what you were gonna do, and then headed back upstate to talk to her husband, some lawyer who you had thought was far too smooth to be real.

It was late evening when you used the knocker to his door, stepping back and looking around the front of the house. A truck was parked out front, and you frowned. You'd always thought he was too posh for a truck like that, and then you noticed the new tires. The door opened and you were face to face with a young woman, probably in her mid-20s, younger than you, younger than Evelyn too. "I'm looking for Harry Weaver?" you asked, keeping your tone polite, your eyes unmistakably catching the pearls around her neck and the velvet emerald wrap dress that you swore she had seen Evie wear a few Christmases ago.

"And you are?" she asked, raising a perfect eyebrow.

"He knows me," you said, not indelicately, but it was in everyone's best interest if this woman got out of her way.

The woman looked you up and down, clocking that you were nowhere close in competition with her perfect blonde curls and petite figure, then stepped back. "Harry, love!" she called out, and you stepped over the threshold, the interior nothing like the truck standing outside. "Someone's here to see you." Her black stilettos clacked over the polished wooden floors, past a round table with a lacy table runner and what was clearly an expensive vase filled with fresh flowers. Noone should be this rich, was the first thought to occur, and then there he was, in a tight polo shirt, a Rolex on his wrist and sharp blue eyes that rivalled Pierce Brosnan, coming down a spiral staircase in polished dress shoes (seriously, who wears those indoors?).

His eyes sparkled in recognition of you. "She's here about Evelyn, no doubt," Harry said, holding out his hand for you, and you took it, smiling sadly, well-practiced, even though the fact that there was no ring on his finger made you want to twist his arm until it fractured.

"The police have no idea where she's gone," you said, dropping his hand, which he used to gesture for you to take a seat.

"Trust me, I've spared no expense in trying to find her," Harry said, his voice still smooth as butter. "My PI suggests it's stress. She wanted a fresh start and… Our marriage was in the way, it seems."

"It's the first I'm hearing of it," you said.

"Can I get you something to drink?" the woman asked. "Wine? We've got a great Merlot."

"I have to drive," you said, your face apologetic and helpless, and you swore something flickered in her eye.

"Harry, honey, what about you?" she asked, looking at the man who couldn't deny her anything.

"Sure, what's a small glass between friends?" he said and you resisted a scoff. His wife was probably dead, and he had killed her, and still had the nerve to play the cool guy around them.

The woman gave him a saccharine smile, walking away, and Harry looked at you. "It's not what it looks like," he said lowly. "I decided to work from home, what with Evie gone. The last thing I need is police showing up at my place of work, and I can't do a thing without Betty. She's my secretary."

How cliché, you thought. Having an affair with his secretary, seriously? Are we still in the 90s? "Of course," you said  placidly. "By the way, I wanted to ask, the truck outside, is that yours?"

"No, that'd be Betty's. Or rather, her father's. He, uh, used to fix boats or something, I don't really know," Harry said, waving his hand carelessly, before letting out a sigh. "Look, I know why you're here. I don't know what Evie told you, but it's not true."

"She's wearing Evie's dress," you said lowly, almost dangerous, your anger bleeding through.

"She spilled coffee on her dress and needed a change," Harry said and you scoffed.

"Evie's not gone two days, and you've gone and replaced her. I can't get my guy to replace my TV that fast."

"We had a fight, that's it," Harry insisted, looking at you. "She… She was convinced that I wasn't faithful, refused to believe me, I mean, she was getting hysterical."

"And then what, she just packed her bags and left?" you asked.

"No, she just… she just left," Harry said, looking broken, but you knew his ability to fake it. "You have to know… I love Evie more than anything. It's just this merger's been eating up all my time and she got the wrong idea. She's the only one for me, you have to believe me!"

"Is that right?" Betty asked, walking over with a bottle of Merlot and a glass of wine. "Evie's the only one for you?"

Harry swallowed, his eyes widening as Betty approached him, a sneering look on her face, and you could tell this wasn't about to end well. You're praying you're pressing the right numbers, sending it to the right person, your hand in your coat pocket.

"Betty, no, I-I only meant--"

"Evie, Evie, Evie, God, you never shut up about her," Betty scoffed, dropping the glass with every intention, the sound of it shattering making you flinch.

"Betty, baby, listen--"

"I have done everything to get you to look at me," Betty cried, staggering towards him with the bottle in hand. "You told me I was prettier than her, you told me!"

"Betty, calm down, you're getting hysterical," Harry said, hoping a firm hand would guide her, and you inched away, hoping to be imperceptible.

"Betty…" you said slowly, "what did you do?" Harry looked at you, frowning.

"You don't seriously think Betty--"

"Why not?" Betty asked, tears flooding her eyes, red and watery, her voice loud and shaky. "Or did you think itty bitty Betty was just some girl you could fuck and shelve away?"

"Betty," you said, swallowing, "did you do something to Evie?"

"God, I am so sick of that bitch!" Betty cried, looking at you, all but snarling. "She's gone, okay?" she yelled at you. "Get over it!"

"Betty, what did you do?" Harry asked, stepping forward. "Did you hurt Evie?"

"Stop saying her name!" she shrieked, swinging the bottle back to hit Harry right in the head and all you could do was clap your hands over your mouth as the man toppled over, his head hitting the polished floors with a crack. Betty didn't even look especially pressed about it, watching the supposed love of her life sprawled unconscious, glass and wine spilled all over the floor. At least, you hoped he was only unconscious, and Betty took a swig of wine, then put it down with a sigh, her hand slipping into her pocket to pull out a revolver.

"Betty, what are you--" She didn't even wait for you to finish the question before shooting Harry in the head and it was all you could do to not scream. Run. You should run. There's no way Alex and Spencer can get here before-- Betty raised her gun right at you.

"Sorry," Betty said, not sounding sorry at all, "Can't leave behind a witness."

"Wait!" You cried out. "Please! Just-Just tell me what happened. I-I just want the truth."

Betty scoffed, tilting her wrist. "The truth? Harry was sick of her, and I gave him what that bitch never could. But he didn't have the nerve to drop her. All that high society bullshit. So I did what he didn't have the balls to do. I killed her. Good thing Daddy told me to get a boating licence at 15. Not to mention the life insurance policy I get to collect in a few weeks."

"How are you gonna convince the police it wasn't you?" you asked, managing to keep the tremor out of your voice.

"Oh, that's easy," she said, grinning at you. "You came here, convinced that Harry killed Evie, and you shot him out of revenge. And then I caught you after you dumped him," she gestured to Harry, "And guess who'd left their gun behind when you took him? So, of course, I had no choice but to shoot you in self-defence. Sorry, honey. Guess this is the end."

You swallowed, out of cards to play, and closed your eyes when you heard the faintest siren outside. "Not yet," you said, right before the door burst open, Morgan kicking it down, followed by Spencer and Hotch. You felt your boyfriend (technically, you hadn't talked about labels yet) wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you away from Betty while Derek and Hotch had the woman surrounded.

"She killed Evelyn," you kept repeating as Spencer ushered you out of the house and to the waiting ambulance.

"I know, I know, angel, we've got her now," he said, and you frowned.

"How did you get here so soon?" you asked, as you felt someone wrap a blanket around you, your gaze fixed on Spencer.

"Blake told me about Evelyn," Spencer said, shrugging. "I wanted to help, but JJ said if you wanted you'd ask for it, so, I worked it out on my own. Figured it had to be Betty. She owned the truck, had the boating license, knew enough about the law to get away with it."

You sighed, sitting on the edge of the ambulance. "Well, that's just embarrassing. I didn't realise it until she came out with that wine."

"That's okay," Spencer said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You don't have FBI resources at your beck and call." You smiled at the gesture, but Spencer still looked serious. "You do, however, have me at your beck and call. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want to get you in trouble at work," you said softly. "I know Strauss doesn't appreciate you lot crossing red tape."

"I'd rather have Strauss mad at me than find you…" He couldn't even finish the sentence, he was that terrified of losing her.

"I know," you said gently, taking his hand in yours. "I should have asked for help."

"Hotch is getting Syracuse PD to drag the water to see if we can find Evelyn," he said, shaking his head. "I know these local precincts are overburdened and underpaid, but this level of incompetence in handling this case is…"

"Thank you," is all you have in you to say, and it's not enough. You have to kiss him, like it's your birthright, your hands on his waist, his large, spindly hands cupping your jaw as he takes your breath away. He pulled away, all too soon, having to remember that he was here as a professional.

"Come on, it'll be dark soon, and you're not wearing nearly enough layers for the forecast." You chuckled lightly, keeping the blanket around your shoulders, coupled with his warmth, as he guided you to the car. 

[patscorner]

What Love Broke

Summary: You and your girlfriend go through a rough patch

wc: 2,144

Contains: angst, couple kisses, reader petty asf

______________________________

You don't exactly remember what started the argument, but you knew it had escalated far more than it should've.

“I'm just saying- it's so unfair how you can't manage to come to a single one of my games when I've been to every one of yours!”

“Oh, I'm sorry that I'm busy with actual things to do. Maybe if you played an actual sport, I'd come to one!” Neshy shouted back at you, her accent thick.

Things have been tense for a while between you and Ines, the stress of your upcoming softball tournament and her basketball tournament stopping you from seeing each other. The wall between you two was built by two people who were so in love that it was painful.

Now here you both are, arguing in front of your closest friends, desperately trying to hold onto the last string that connected your hearts.

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

Ines’s face flashed a twinge of regret, but quickly recovered. “Nothing, look-”

“No, I fucking knew it! I knew that's why you never came to games. You weren't busy, you just didn't fucking care!”

The evening started fine, some of the team gathering in Paige’s dorm to hang out before practice the next morning. Ines had been unusually cold, and everyone noticed her icy demeanor. It was embarrassing for you, so you tried to subtly ask if you'd done something, only to be met with the same frozen heart.

You tried to let it go, but as the night went on, you’d had enough. You had dragged her into a separate room in an attempt to fix whatever you had broken.

Which led you to now, the pair of you, face to face, shouting at each other.

“I care! All I do is care! You're so fucking ungrate-”

“Bullshit, Neshy!” You ran your hand over your face, a weak attempt to calm yourself.

“How can you call me ungrateful when all-”

“Because, with all I do in this relationship, you don't do anything to match it!” her accent ringing through the air thickly.

“With all you do?!! What about all the time I've put in?! All the time spent watching your fucking games, instead of doing homework of my own! All the times I've stayed up going to games, then going to an afterparty, just to watch you get drunk!” your voice shakes at this, but it doesn't matter, not to her anyway.

“Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was such an inconvenience for you to support your girlfriend!” Ines had been pacing this whole time, clearly overwhelmed, and normally you'd respect it. You drop it and pick it up later, but this time, this time, she was gonna listen to what you had to say.

You scoff out a dry laugh. “It's not an inconvenience, Ines, it's just not reciprocated. And until you figure that out, don't bother coming.” You turn to face the door, tired of this argument, tired of fighting, tired of this.

“So that's it?! We're gonna leave it like this?!” She asked, her voice carrying a different kind of weight to it.

“I'm tired, Neshy. I can't keep fighting you like this.” You say spinning around.

She's quiet for a bit, clearly thinking of where to go from here. You can almost hear her thoughts, her face flipping through emotions, until she picked one. The same one she's had all day.

“Don't come to any of my games, then.” She hissed out.

Your heart stuttered, but you didn't let her see that. “Okay.” Is all you say before you turn around and leave, closing the door behind you.

You walk out, finally allowing the tears to fall before remembering you weren't in your own dorm, meeting the eyes of your girlfriend's teammates.

Their eyes carry pity and sympathy as they reach yours.You wipe your eyes before grabbing your phone and mumbling a goodbye.

It's a day before the game between Uconn and Syracuse, the second round of the NCAA Tournament. It's been 3 days, 13 hours, 6 minutes, and 40 seconds (but who's counting) since you've talked to Ines. During those painful hours, you've left your dorm once. One to return a notebook to Paige that you'd borrowed for math help.

You'd seen your girlfriend around campus a couple of times, but quickly avoided her gaze. Your entire goal was to cool off before you went to the game the next day, but that plan failed when you returned to your dorm to your room unlocked.

At first, you panicked, but when you saw Ines in the kitchen, you let out a breath of relief. You set your keys on the counter and your bags on the floor.

“What're you doing here?” You ask softly.

She yelps, putting her hand on her chest. “Jesus, you scared the fuck outta me.”

“Sorry.” you mumble.

“It's okay.”

The silence between you both is not the comfortable one you were used to. This silence was loud, filled with the unspoken words of your hearts. You stare at your feet, avoiding the intense gaze from Neshy.

“What're you doing here?” You repeat.

“I-I, uh, left my jersey here. I didn't think you'd be home soon.” she whispers the last part.

You raise your eyebrows. “So that's why you're in my kitchen?”

Her eyes widened. “Wha- oh, uh. I jus- I noticed your Brita was out of water, so I was just filling it up.”

Your heart shattered. Even after all the fighting you two have done, she still shows that she cares.

You nod. “Thank you, that's- that's very sweet.”

She just hums in acknowledgement, before grabbing her jersey off the counter and heading for the door. You watch her as she turns around to you.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“Oh-uh. I don't know.” You whisper.

“Please.” She begs.

“Neshy.”

“Jus- think about it. Please. I need you there.”

You sigh. “I'll see.”

“Okay.” She opens the door, but turns around and walks back towards you, pulling you into her chest by your waist.

Her lips interlock with yours briefly, a silent plea for you to go.

“I love you.” she whispers.

“I love you, too.” you smile sadly.

And with that, she walks out and closes the door behind her.

Tomorrow comes sooner than you wish, and so does the game. After careful consideration, (and a long conversation with Nika) you decide to go to the game. Even though you were still upset, and the relationship was far from fixed, Ines was your girlfriend, and you were going to support her, regardless of hurt feelings. Plus, you were still friends with the rest of the girls, and wanted to support them as well.

You still didn't want to talk to Neshy, and you made it a goal to avoid her at all costs. At that point, you knew you were being petty, but you didn't care.

Uconn won the game, Ines scoring three 3s and getting a crucial steal at the end of the third quarter. Even though her head was elsewhere, she played well. As you sit in the stands, you help but feel disappointment. She never cared enough to come to one of your games. She never experienced being in the stands, cheering on her girlfriend like you had. She had no idea what that was like and didn't seem to care to find out. Regardless, you couldn't help but feel your heart swell with pride for her. You considered staying and waiting for her, like you usually do. You were undoubtedly happy for her, but she hurt you. You wanted to stay. You wanted to hug her and whisper her congratulations. You wanted to kiss all the angry words you'd exchanged away. That's what you wanted.

But what you needed to do was protect your peace. You needed her to care. You needed 50-50, not 75-25. You needed change. Something had to change.

Your heart fought with your feet as you walked out of the stadium, nobody stopping you.

A knock sounded startled you awake. You groaned as you rolled over, ignoring the interruption of your sleep. Well, you tried, but it didn't work, as whoever it was, knocked again. You grumbled as you rolled out of bed, cursing whoever woke you up at– you check your phone –3:23am.

You swing the door open, to see none other than your girlfriend, and boy, did she look pissed. Her eyes were red and puffy, and bags stark against her pale skin.

“Where were you?” She demands.

“Ines, it's three thirty in the fucking morning. Do you really want to do this right now?”

“You seriously didn't come? I thought you'd be mature enough to put one stupid fight behind us, but you clearly aren't. Like, I'd love to hear the reasoning.”

“Neshy-”

“No, no, actually, never mind. I don't wanna hear whatever your bullshit excuse would be.”

“Ines.” she was spiraling right in front of you, and it was the hardest thing for you to watch.

“I don't even know why I came here. You probably don't even have a good reason. As a matter of fact, I wouldn't be surprised if you forgot.” She rambles. “I can't do this, goodnight.”

And with that she walked away. You contemplated letting her go. She told you what she was thinking, and she seemed pretty sure of herself. But you shook your head, clearing them of those thoughts. She didn't mean it, and you both knew that. You knew that if you let her leave, she might not ever come back.

You stepped out of your dorm in your her large tee-shirt and sweats. “I was at the game.” You call after her. She pauses before looking back at you. She'd made it halfway down the hall at that point. Damn that athletic speed.

“W-what?” Her eyes twinkle with surprise and her eyebrows furrow.

“Come inside.” You say, moving to make room for her in the doorway. You watch her as she walks back to you, pausing for a moment, seemingly looking for permission. The politeness is foreign to you, but you respect it.

You nod before following her inside. She walked into your dorm, and stood at the island.

You wordlessly walk to the refrigerator and get the Brita filter that she'd filled, pouring you both glasses of water. You walk up to her, chest to chest, and set the glass on the table. You look at her, and wipe her tears gently. You feel her hands hesitantly hover over your waist. You almost roll your eyes. It didn't have to be like this.

“You came…? But I didn't see you, a-and you didn't say hi after.”

“I know. I'm sorry. I should've said hi, but I was still pissed.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around her neck.

You both look at each other for a beat before you speak again.

“It can't be like this.” She hums and nods in agreement. “I know.”

“I just need fifty-fifty. I understand if you don't have time during the week, you're an athlete, I'm an athlete, and it's bound to happen. I get all of that. But it can't be like this.” You gesture between the two of you.

Ines nods again. “Okay. I'm sorry. I'm just stressed, I didn't mean anything I said, I was just upset.” She mutters shamefully.

“I know.” You say leaning close to her. Your lips ghost across hers and your heart pounds at the way her breath hitches.

Ines pushes her lips against yours, whining so quiet you almost miss it. Almost.

You break the kiss, locking eyes with her once again. “It's late. Let's go to bed. We can talk in the morning.” You whisper. She nods and you can see the exhaustion set in. She probably hasn't slept in days.

You lead her to your room, falling into the familiar rhythm that is cuddling. You face her as she wraps her arms around your waist, your face buried in the crook of her neck. You listen to Ines take a deep breath, inhaling your scent as if you'll disappear. You press a kiss on her collarbone, humming.

“Neshy?” You whisper. She opens one eye, grunting in acknowledgment.

“You ever yell at me in front of the team again, I will beat your ass.” You smile, but she knows you're dead serious.

“No need, KK said she'd beat my ass if I ever made you cry again.” You let out a soft giggle, moving impossibly closer to her.

“Good.”

“Mhm.” She mumbles, closing her eyes once again. You shift up to kiss her lips before returning to your previous position. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, my love.”

Even though your relationship was far from fixed, there's no harm in a night's sleep before you mend what love broke.

______________________________

taglist: @wintersstan @bueckerslover @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @girlokwhatever @pbloverr @breeloveschris-deactivated20240 @cosmopretty @hellokittyfeenie @averagelobotomyenjoyer @elliewilliamsthang

[mentally-unstabler]

Cold Winter’s Night

Elliot Stabler x Reader

AN- I wrote this months ago during winter but never got around to publishing it. Smut and kinda angst + age gap (all legal and consensual). Set around season 7/8

—1.4k wc—

The blizzard had approached the state of New York faster than the weather forecast had predicted. You and your partner Elliot were halfway to Syracuse, chasing a lead on a serial assailant, when the storm hit your location.

“And there goes the car battery,” you sigh as your patrol car engine finally quits. “And our source of heat.”

You had only been stranded on the side of the highway for two hours, but it felt like an eternity when there was no rescue currently available. All the roads had shut down and although you could radio local patrol, they couldn’t reach you until the storm let up.

Your partner had been sitting in the drivers seat, silently fuming for the entire time you’d been stuck there. He didn’t want to pull over but he finally relented when the sedan started sliding on the road. Not even a snow plow could drive in these conditions.

“We have two waters, half a cold coffee, and a few granola bars from what I’ve counted,” you state. “I think we can last at least a few hours on these if we ration.”

Elliot lets out a long sigh. This was just another nail in the coffin of his messy year. Between the divorce being finalized, Olivia transferring departments, and the whole Gitano incident, this year had not been his favorite. And now he was trapped in a freezing vehicle with his new partner. At least it wasn’t Munch.

You had transferred into SVU a year ago from narcotics, initially being assigned to work with Fin. However, after Olivia left, Cragen decided to pair you with Elliot, hoping your calm demeanor would rub off on him. So far, it hadn’t.

More hours had passed in the car and as the winter sun fell bellow the horizon, so did the temperature. Even with your jacket on it wasn’t long before you were shivering.

“You cold?” Elliot asks, still annoyed at the situation.

“Yeah I mean it’s a bit chilly,” you reply somewhat sarcastically.

“It might be warmer in the back seat,” Elliot suggests. “Cause it’s away from the frozen windshield.”

“You know the car has a windshield in the back too, right?” you reply.

Elliot shrugs then proceeds to awkwardly climb over the center console and into the back of the squad car.

“Well it’s not colder than the front,” he remarks. He reaches out a hand to help you climb into the back seat next to him.

You were always a little wary of Elliot. He was really close to Olivia and since she left he seems to have latched onto you. You definitely enjoyed his company, despite the 10 year age gap and his fiery demeanor. You were so opposite that you ended up working really well together.

“Detective Stabler,” Elliot states as he answers his phone. It was a pleasant surprise to know you had cellular coverage up here.

“Tomorrow?” Elliot asks annoyed. “Could you send literally anyone earlier?”

“Fine,” Elliot grumbles. “Well hang in there.”

“That was the Captain,” he states as he hangs up his phone. “They won’t be able to send anyone to us until tomorrow.”

You groan in annoyance at your situation.

“I’m going pee,” you state, moving towards the door. “If I’m not back in 10 send a search party.”

Elliot tried to protest you going out into the storm but realized given your situation it was probably for the best you did your business outside of the car.

You reenter the car a few minutes later, unable to feel your fingers from the sub zero temperatures. Your jacket is completely soaked through as you didn’t dress for that heavy of snowfall.

Elliot immediately notices your shivering state and begins to take off your jacket.

“What are you doing?” you ask, pulling away from him.

“You can’t keep this on,” he states. “It’s wet, it will freeze and make you colder.”

You slowly let him help you out of your jacket, accepting the fact that you were in fact very cold.

Elliot pulls you close to him in an attempt to warm you up. You were not used to this weather, being from California. You had only seen snow on a handful of instances before moving to New York a few years prior.

The two of you stayed huddled together in the back seat for awhile, too cold to do anything but wait. You had dosed off for a bit in Elliot’s arms but the back seat wasn’t the most comfortable place.

“You’re still shivering,” Elliot comments as he passes you the water bottle you’re sharing.

“I’m not used to anything below 50 degrees,” you reply. Elliot looks at you for permission before he pulls you closer to him, allowing you to steal more of his body heat. The position you were in was perhaps bordering on not appropriate but given the circumstances you couldn’t care. You were so cold.

“Do you miss California?” Elliot asks, realizing he doesn’t know that much about your life before New York.

“Sometimes,” you sigh. “I miss the good parts.”

Elliot knows not to press you for details on things you don’t want to talk about. He was worried though as you appeared to be falling asleep again.

Deciding you were in fact sleeping and not passed out from the cold, he let you lay against his chest as you slept, your body on top of his in the back seat. He had told himself so many times not to get close to the people he works with, but he couldn’t help but be drawn to you. There was a calm about you he appreciated, and you were good with the victims.

It’s a little before sunrise when you both wake up, even colder than you were when you fell asleep. You both were too cold to care about the position you were in, or the fact that your faces were way too close to each other, you just wanted to be someplace warm again.

“We really shouldn’t,” you tell Elliot, noticing that he’s suspiciously been staring at your lips since you woke up.

“We don’t have to,” he says calmly.

“It’s a really bad idea,” you giggle.

“I’m not known for making the best decisions,” Elliot whispers as he moves in closer.

Fuck it, you decide. It can’t make you any colder and who knows if you’ll even live long enough to be rescued from this damned car. Plus you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about doing this before.

You sink further into his grasp as your lips connect, hands tucked under his jacket for warmth. Was this a bad idea? Very much so. But you couldn’t help yourself. You’d never needed some activity such as this more in your life.

There is no signs of stopping as the back seat heats up. You’re tugging at each other’s clothes, not wanting to take anything off but also feeling the need to be closer to the person in front of you.

Elliot finally pulls away and you instantly miss his touch.

“We don’t have to…” he says, referring to continuing your connection.

“Elliot,” you say, staring at his eyes. “I want to continue if you do.”

“I don’t have a condom,” he says worriedly.

“I’m clean,” you reply, “and I can get some plan B tomorrow. We’ll be fine.”

Assured of your consent, Elliot reconnects his lips to yours as he slips a hand under your shirt, tugging at the hem of your pants. Forgetting the cold, you quickly unbutton them and pull them off, flinging them into the front seat. Elliot senses your urgency and rids himself of his belt and trousers.

Unfortunately for your decision making, the sex was amazing. You both forgot about the cold, or the fact that you were cramped in the back of a squad car, all you could do is moan his name as he bounced you on his hard cock over and over.

Elliot hadn’t had any physical contact remotely close to this in months and he was very hungry for it. His hands grasped firmly on your sides as he moved you on top of him. His mouth nipped at your freezing neck as you moaned the most beautiful noises.

You both could’ve continued this way for hours if you weren’t starving and dehydrated. It probably wasn’t the smartest move to exert all your energy at once, or to sleep with your coworker who you spend every day with.

Two orgasms later you both were spent. Elliot used some napkins he found in the glove compartment to clean up the back seat and you both reluctantly put your close back on. You finished the last of the water and food and waited in silence for help to come.

At least you were no longer cold.

[maimaily]

LADS boys image of the day (｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )

summary: what image did nasa take on the love interest's bday? let's see <3. a/n: to avoid confusion with the years of birth, i'll use only the month and day + i'm picking the ones that i can relate to their lore.

Zayne — September 5

Title: "Blue Supermoon Beyond Syracuse".Credit & Copyright: Kevin Saragozza

The foreseer, isolated in a tower where today and tomorrow have converged, the great moon is advisor to an atrocious destiny and an eternal punishment. Like her, her ethereal beauty is lethal at close quarters, their doomed love corroding more than any ice.

Rafayel — March 6

Title: "Starburst Galaxy Messier 94" Image Credit: ESA/Hubble and NASA

The shores of a sea that has dried up, a love that has been sacrificed, the memories of a life washed away by the waves turning into foam. In the center of a turbulent heart, two lovers will meet again.

Sylus — April 18

Title: "Rainbow Airglow over the Azores" Image Credit & Copyright: Miguel Claro (TWAN); Rollover Annotation: Judy Schmidt

A feeling that was born in captivity was imprisoned, contained in the depths of a frantic heart, a desire for reunion that transcends reason. The retained lover has been released, in front of his eyes is freedom, in his hands the possibility of feeling tenderness once again.

Caleb — June 13

Title: "M51: The Whirlpool Galaxy from Hubble" Image Credit: NASA, ESA, Hubble, HLA; Processing & Copyright: Bernard Miller

Like a violent and instinctive impulse, the desire for the fusion of two bodies destined to perish, longing for the meeting of their souls in a peaceful paradise. The longing of a lover who, despite the consequences, does not renounce to his so vivid feeling. They will be together, because gravity starts and ends with you.

Xavier — October 16

Title: "Night Hides the World" Image Credit & Copyright: Babak Tafreshi (TWAN)

On a foreign planet, far, far away from home, the stars are the only witness to a longed-for love and a traveler who cannot return. In the distance, where the tinkling dots converge with infinity, lies the painful love of a broken promise.

[roosterforme]

How You Play the Game Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When Bradley doesn't hear from you after the first game, he thinks that's it. But you got his heart pounding and made him smile, and he wants to see you again. The realization that maybe something that perfect should be left as a one night stand hits him hard, but he wants to know if there could be more.

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, angst and smut (18+)

Length: 5600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! How You Play the Game masterlist. Banner by @thedroneranger

Bradley was laying in bed on Saturday morning with the New York times app open on his phone, scrolling to find your article. When his eyes settled on your name below the title, he tapped on it. The app took him to your full biography and a picture of you in front of Wrigley Field. 

You even looked beautiful in your stock photo image. He was tempted to save it to his photo gallery, but instead he skimmed your bio. You'd lived all over the country and played every sport imaginable as a child. You had graduated first in your class from Syracuse University, and you were undefeated at sports trivia.

The smile on his lips grew as he read the article that you must have submitted before your deadline last night. Your writing style was fun and entertaining, and you had even mentioned the comment he made about the catcher for the Angels. Bradley groaned and tossed his phone aside. He wanted to see you again.

But as he got out of bed and headed for his bathroom, he reminded himself that last night had one night stand written all over it. You were in California for work. You both said that hooking up like that wasn't something you normally did. He was sure you just did it for a bit of fun. Bradley was an idiot for catching feelings after a few hours with you, but it felt like he already knew you. Talking to you in person felt like reading your articles, because your writing matched your personality so well. Witty, intelligent, funny and charming.

"Chill the fuck out," Bradley told himself in the bathroom mirror. "It's done."

Then he spent the day trying to think about anything that wasn't sports related. He even took a ten mile run up along the beach to kill some time. And when Nat asked him if he was going to the Hard Deck, he decided that would help. 

But everyone there was wearing Padres gear and talking about that game one victory. And Bradley swallowed hard when he saw that Shannon was working behind the bar. He hadn't thought about her much recently, and she definitely hadn't crossed his mind at all when he'd been with you. But nevertheless, Bradley smiled when she greeted him.

"Hey, Rooster," she said with that grin that he was so used to. And she poured him a beer before he even asked for one. "You think you'll stick around for last call?" 

He watched her hand as she slid the beer across the bartop. "I'll let you know?" he asked, barely able to meet her eyes. 

"Sounds good. I'll start a tab for you."

He just nodded and turned to find the other aviators. Sleeping with Shannon tonight might help Bradley get you off his mind. But did he want to? He kind of liked the way warm thoughts of your voice and your smile kept bubbling to the surface. He could hear you asking him if he'd write back to a text from you. Honestly, he had been low key hoping you'd contact him today, and then he could have proven that he'd write back immediately, just like he promised. 

But he'd heard nothing. No text. No call. You hadn't done anything with his phone number. 

"What's your problem?" Nat asked, pinching his arm until he snapped out of it. "I asked you three times if you wanted to play pool with me."

"I'm not in the mood," he groaned, rubbing his arm as the TV screen caught his attention. They were playing World Series highlights and talking about tomorrow night's game. 

"Why are you pouting?"

He rolled his eyes. "Nat, I'm not pouting."

"You are. Is this because Bagman is flirting with Shannon?"

Bradley glanced over his shoulder and saw that Nat was correct. Jake was leaning on the bar, trying his hardest to get Shannon to smile. "Nah. I told you, that's just casual. Doesn't mean anything." He sipped his beer.

"Well whatever is bothering you, either tell me about it or get over it, because I want to beat Javy and Reuben at pool for once."

Bradley closed his eyes and told her, "I met someone at the game last night."

"No!" she gasped. "Tell me everything."

After he hesitated for a beat, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped on your name in the NYT app before handing it to her. He watched Nat as she skimmed the screen and examined your photo.

"Oh! You met her? Oh, shit....you hooked up with her!"

"Yeah," he grunted, glad that his best friend didn't need much help to figure out exactly what was going on with him. She never did. 

"You like her! Why can I so easily picture you happily married to a sports writer? You could have six kids, and each one would play a different sport. One would play softball, one would be a kickass hockey player, one would play soccer, you'd probably have a ballerina-"

"Nat," he said, cutting her off with a laugh. "I'm not going to see her again. I gave her my number, but I haven't heard from her." He turned back to the bar to find that Shannon was alone again. Maybe it wouldn't hurt if he stayed until last call.

"Bradley. She's probably covering game two! You could go back to Petco Park tomorrow."

"Yeah," he grunted. "She's definitely covering game two. She told me she was. Right after I gave her my number which she hasn't used. It was just a hookup, Nat."

"I'll buy you a ticket," she said, fishing out her own phone. "An early Christmas present."

"Don't you dare. The resale price is up to almost a thousand bucks for the nosebleed seats."

She sighed and said, "Fine. But you should still think about going."

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

After you spent most of your weekend in your hotel room doing research and writing, you decided to take a few hours off on Sunday afternoon. And it was during this time, when you went for a walk through Balboa Park, that you let yourself accept the fact that you'd been working like a maniac all weekend to try to keep your mind off of Bradley.  

Your hotel room smelled like his cologne or aftershave or maybe his laundry detergent. It was nice. Kind of comforting. You wanted to lay in bed with him until you smelled like it, too. But on Saturday morning, when you had thrown away the rogue condom wrapper, you decided it was better to throw away his phone number, too. You tried to rip that sheet out of your notebook since you no longer needed those stats, but you couldn't do it. Instead it was tucked away with your other work items, and you hoped you wouldn't cave and contact him.

After you took a shower, you grabbed your bag and your media pass and headed out early so you would have time to get some food when you got there. You liked that the ballparks usually served up local treats, and you'd get there in time to actually enjoy some fish tacos or a poke bowl tonight. You even thought about grabbing a local beer and drinking it on the main concourse before heading up to the box. You decided to go up and set down your computer and then find the beer cart.

But when you approached the narrow stairs that would take you up to the press box, you froze.

"Ace."

He was standing there, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, an earnest look on his handsome face.

"Bradley," you gasped as your heart thudded with excitement. "What are you doing here? Did you win another contest?"

"No," he said, shaking his head slowly. "I bought a ticket."

You knew the tickets were reselling at a premium price, and as he pushed away from the wall and dropped his arms to his sides, you asked, "Really? You're that much of a Padres fan?"

He shrugged and kind of shook his head, but your breath caught in your throat when he said, "You never texted me, Ace. I haven't stopped thinking about you for a single second, but you didn't text or call me."

He was close enough now that you could smell him, and you almost whimpered as your eyes fluttered closed. "You really wanted me to use your number?" you asked, meeting his eyes once again.

"Of course. That's why I wrote it down," he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Shit, I shouldn't have come here to see you." He was blushing profusely and looking at the floor. "You wanted that to be a one time thing, didn't you?" he asked, glancing up at your eyes with a slight grimace on his face. 

Well now you weren't so sure. You thought he had just written his number down as a tactic. It wouldn't have been the first time you had a guy see how far he could get you to go while making you feel like you had some sort of safety net. Making you think he was really into you. But maybe Bradley actually was?  

"Bradley, I-"

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "In an effort to not completely ruin the perfection of Friday night in my mind, I'm gonna go."

You watched him turn, and he made it about ten steps before you ran to him, reaching for his bicep. "Bradley, wait." When he stopped, you bumped into him, but he steadied you. You swallowed hard. He was so attractive, and you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about him all weekend. Inviting him back to your hotel room again had been a fun fantasy you'd indulged in since late Friday night. "Do you want to sit with me again? In the box?"

He looked surprised now. "Yeah."

"Okay." You linked your fingers with his and led him back to the stairs. He still looked a little tentative as you added, "Let's go."

When you used your card to open the door, you made it halfway up the stairs before you paused and turned to look at him. He was one step below you, and your height just about matched up with his. He still looked a little surprised, but there was a soft smile on his lips now, and you wrapped your fingers a little tighter around his.

"To be clear, did you buy a one thousand dollar ticket so you could stand at the bottom of these stairs and try to see me again tonight?"

"Yes," he said clearly and without hesitation. You shook your fingers free from his and wrapped both of your hands around the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him. Your nose brushed along the side of his as you felt the prickle of his mustache against your skin. And then his hands were on your waist as he welcomed you into his arms. He parted his lips for you as you dragged your fingers up into his hair. Then he broke the kiss long enough to rasp, "I like you, Ace."

You kissed his lips once more before running your lips along his mustache. He squeezed your waist a little tighter as the door opened behind him. When you saw that it was Raya, another sports writer, you took Bradley by the hand again and led him all the way into the box.

"Don't get into any trouble today," you whispered, pushing him down into the same stool he had occupied on Friday night. "I got you in with my pass."

"I'll be so good," he promised, looking up at you with eyes far too innocent for the rest of his smirking face. And somehow you doubted it.

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

Bradley couldn't keep his hands off you as you worked. He kept finding ways to trace little circles along your back. The pace of game two seemed to be a lot faster as the Angels got into a better groove against the Padres, and you were frantically keeping your stats as you typed away. 

"You want something else to eat?" he asked you between innings as you scribbled out some notes that he supposed must have made sense to you.

"Yes, please," you said, turning to smile at him. You watched Bradley stand, and he headed to the table lined with food. You seemed surprised that he had been sincere when he said he wanted you to text him. Yeah, he'd been joking around a little bit when he wrote his number down in your notebook, but he was kind of crushed when he hadn't heard from you. 

When Bradley turned to take the food back to that little spot you and he were sharing in the last row, he saw the reporter in front of you turn around and start giving you a hard time.

"You gonna bring your boyfriend to each game, New York?"

Bradley wanted to punch this asshole in the face, because who even made comments like that? But instead he watched you sigh dramatically and say, "At least I can get laid, Quincy. You're such a hater. Now turn around, I'm busy."

But Bradley did shoot Quincy a glare for good measure, and he didn't take his eyes off him until he had turned around. "More food," Bradley told you, setting the plate down where you could reach it without it being in your way. Then he settled onto his stool and draped his arm across the back of yours while you picked at the food. 

You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Thanks," just as the Padres hit a home run. Bradley desperately wanted to cheer, but nobody cheered in the press box, apparently. So he sat quietly while you updated your stat sheet and ate a taco. 

"Which team do you cheer for, Ace?" he asked, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You know, when you're not working and allowed to cheer."

Your lips parted in silence before you pressed them together, and then you said, "I never tell anyone my favorite teams."

Bradley examined your face for a beat. "You want to tell me, don't you?"

"Oh my god," you moaned, head tipped back. "Yeah, I actually do."

As Bradley shook from the laughter he was trying to hold in, you leaned in close to him. "You can tell me," he said, grinning. "I'll keep your secret."

You let your palm come to rest on his abs before sliding it along to his waist as you pressed your lips to his ear. "You can't tell anyone. Ever."

The feel of your lips on him, about to divulge something so important to your career had him pulling you closer. You laughed softly as your lips bumped his ear, and Bradley stifled a moan. 

"I won't say a word about it," he promised.

"My favorite team is the Toronto Blue Jays."

That was about to become Bradley's favorite team, too. Maybe he could go to a game with you when you were allowed to cheer. 

"Do you know what their mascot is named?" you asked as you eased yourself back into your seat. When he shook his head, you picked up your pencil and wrote in the margin of your stat sheet.

Ace.

Bradley laughed again. You had him smiling or laughing nonstop right now, and he couldn't believe it was already the eighth inning. It was getting late in the game now, but you were still writing. 

Do you want to come back to my hotel with me again?

And then he realized that this was the first time he'd thought about fucking you all day. 

Bradley leaned in close and kissed your neck a few times before he said, "Only if you save my number in your phone." Because as much as he'd been thinking yesterday about how good it felt to have sex with you, he wanted to hear from you when it wasn't a game day. He wanted to keep talking to you.

During the break at the end of the inning, you pulled your phone out and made a show of flipping to the previous page in your notebook and entering his phone number into your contacts list. Then you turned your phone screen away from him and typed something out, and he just waited to feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. When he did, he looked at his messages and saw that you had sent him a photo of you with the Toronto Blue Jays mascot. And you captioned it with: Be honest, which Ace do you think is cuter?

He typed out to you, I'm not sure if you knew this, but I'm wildly attracted to blue feathers.

When you looked at your phone again, your laughter was loud enough to have Quincy turning around and earning another glare from Bradley. And just as the ninth inning started, you texted Bradley one more time. I hope you replaced your wallet condom, Boy Scout Bradley. 

Truthfully, he had not. Getting lucky hadn't been his primary thought when he was just wanting to see you again. He muttered, "We're gonna need more than one, Ace."

And as your hand came to rest on his thigh, you tapped your lips with your pencil eraser. "I saw them for sale in the hotel lobby."

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

You couldn't remember feeling this way ever before. At least not with someone you barely knew. Bradley had your bag on his shoulder and he was practically carrying you across the parking lot as you laughed. You liked him a lot. He came back to see you again today. He was so funny and sweet, and you should have texted him on Saturday. 

"You seem very eager," you whispered against his cheek as you kissed him at the crosswalk. You were running your hands all over his shoulders and dipping your hands inside his Padres jersey. 

He picked you up to carry you across the street with the crowd of other pedestrians. "I'm hoping you'll show me your blue feathers tonight," he rasped, making you laugh even more. 

"I knew you liked the other Ace better!"

He kissed your neck, and once he had you inside the hotel lobby, he said, "No, you're my favorite."

"Condoms," you whispered, pointing toward the small convenience shop next to the front desk. Bradley set you down and grabbed up all ten double packs of condoms and dumped them in front of the young guy who was working at the front desk.

"Is that all you needed, sir?"

Bradley pulled out his credit card and handed it to him, looking at you while he said, "Well no, that's not all I need." His gaze was openly needy as he looked at your face, lingering on your lips. You felt warm all over, and when Bradley had all twenty condoms in his hands again, you hooked your fingers though the belt loop of his jeans and pulled him toward the elevators. 

"Let's go, Boy Scout."

Bradley groaned as the elevator door opened and you pulled him inside. He stood before you with your computer bag, so many packs of condoms and an erection that you could plainly see behind his zipper. You giggled and ran your thumbnail up and down his zipper as you said, "You're adorable."

He swallowed hard as you led him out on the top floor and down the corridor toward your room. "Ace? Baby?"

"Yeah?" you asked, unlocking the door as he stood behind you and let you feel him pressed to your lower back.

"Maybe you should finish writing your article first? I don't want you to get too close to your deadline again."

You opened the door and backed into the room, pulling him in with you. "No," you whispered before you kissed him hard. "I want you right now."

You grabbed one of the double packs of condoms from his hands, and he let the rest of them fall to the floor. The smile that you and he shared had your tummy doing somersaults as he gently set down your computer bag. You continued to back up slowly to the bed as he followed you. When you toed off your shoes, you watched him pause to pull his off as well. And then you were holding up the condoms and walking backwards across the bed on your knees until you reached the middle. 

Bradley was frozen, just staring at you with a crooked smile on his face and his hands on his zipper. "I'm waiting," you whispered. And then you weren't waiting anymore at all, because Bradley was on top of you, wrapping his arms around you as his weight pushed you down into the bedding.

You moaned into his kisses as you ran your fingers through his hair. He already felt, smelled and sounded familiar to you. He tugged on your shirt until he was kissing you through your bra.

"You don't taste like beer today," he murmured against your skin, teasing you with his mustache. 

"No, you managed not to spill," you replied, pulling your own shirt off as he unhooked your bra. His mouth was all over your breasts once he tossed your bra on the floor, and you were arching your back up against him. "You feel good."

He groaned into your skin while you felt him grind against your core through way too much fabric. "Ace." His hands were cupping your breasts as he let his lips drift down your belly until he was kissing along the top of your jeans. You unbuttoned and unzipped your pants and let him pull them down your legs. And then he was still fully clothed, giving you head just like two nights ago.

He was good at it, too. But when you started to touch your own breasts, he got distracted, lips grazing your clit as he watched you. When he lazily brought the pad of his thumb up along your slit and started teasing you, the sounds you made were so needy. You thought he could probably get you off like this if you wanted him to. 

But you sat up and made quick work of his jersey buttons while he slipped his index finger inside you. "Bradley," you moaned softly as he kissed your neck and finger fucked you. He just seemed to want to make you feel good, and your hands stalled as you pushed his jersey down off both of his shoulders. Your palms came to rest on his warm biceps, and you could feel his arm muscles working as he fingered you. 

"Tell me what you want, Ace," he grunted, stroking your clit with his thumb. He'd said that on Friday as well. 

"I want you naked and inside me."

He let you undress him then, and you took his cock in both of your hands. You watched him roll onto his back as you teased him with your fingers, running your nails down along his thighs. The veins in his neck were strained, and his cheeks were flushed as his eyes darted from your face down to your hands and back up. He was glorious. Huge everywhere. Tan and muscular and perfect. So hard and eager to please. 

When you straddled his hips and planted your hands on his shoulders, he pulled you to him, kissing your lips until you were laying flat on him. His length was gliding through your soaked pussy, and you moaned at the feel of him rubbing slowly against your clit. You mumbled his name, but he just kissed your lips harder, wrapping those big hands around your hips. 

With each little movement of your hips grinding against him, you were closer to fucking him, so you gasped, "Condom." 

"Mmhmm," he hummed, one big hand at the middle of your back while he reached blindly around the bedding in search of the small package. His lips were still soft and perfect on yours, unhurried as he handed you the condoms. You pressed your forehead to his as you fumbled trying to open one of them, and then you were sitting up between his legs, rolling it down his length, ready to go.

You guided yourself down around his cock, and he felt incredible, just like before. "Oh god," you whined softly, taking every inch of him while he grasped your thighs hard. 

"So pretty," he whispered, watching you fucking him. Soon you were riding him fast and rough, bracing your hands on his abs. You couldn't even talk or formulate words as you whimpered, because he was hitting that sweet spot inside you. With every movement you were getting closer, and Bradley looked like he was struggling to keep it together. 

You took his right hand, and brought it up to your mouth, sucking on his index and middle fingers to get them wet. "Baby, it feels too good," he groaned, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. Then you guided his hand down to your clit, and you started cumming almost instantly. You held onto his wrist, rubbing your clit against his fingers with each stroke of your pussy along his cock.

Loud, incoherent noises filled the room as you came, riding him without finesse, head tipped back. And then Bradley was sitting up, right arm wrapped around your waist while he braced himself with his left palm on the bed. He whispered praise against your skin, pausing to kiss you as he thrust his hips up to fuck you as you came down from your high. "You're so hot. So good."

He sucked on your neck before his movements became jerky, and then he was chanting Ace! as he came too. He collapsed back against the bed with you held tightly to his chest, and you ran your fingers along his sweaty neck and up to stroke his jaw.

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

Bradley had nearly fallen asleep with your warm body draped over his and his soft cock still buried inside you. And then your phone alarm went off, and you were instantly scrambling to find your jeans amongst the pile of clothing on the floor.

"Shit," you muttered, glancing at him as you silenced your phone and checked the time. "I need to finish writing and submit my piece."

Bradley nodded and rolled onto his side and reached for a tissue to take care of the used condom. The last thing he wanted to do was go home now, but you had work to do, and he needed to be on base in the morning. He stood as you scooped his jersey up off the floor, but instead of handing it to him, you slipped it on. It fit you like a cute, little dress. 

"My article is almost done," you murmured, retrieving your bag from near the door where he had set it down earlier. He smiled as you stepped around all the other packs of condoms. "I just need to add in my stats and proofread everything."

"Okay," he whispered, unwilling to break the spell that he felt like he was under when he was in your presence. "I can head out." He started to reach for his undershirt and boxer briefs, figuring you could just keep his jersey if you wanted to wear it. 

But Bradley found himself wanting to ask if he could see you again. You saved his phone number this time, and while you were going up to Los Angeles for game three, he was hoping you'd be back in San Diego again. He was almost pissed now that the Padres were up two games to none in the World Series, because the more games that these two teams played, the longer you'd be in California. And LA was a hell of a lot closer to San Diego than New York City was.

As he held his clothes in his hand, you bit your lip and looked at him while your computer booted up. "You can stay. If you want?"

He froze, trying to process what you meant. "Stay?"

"Yeah," you whispered, taking him by the hand. "While I write."

He instantly dropped everything back to the floor as you pulled him to the desk chair. He sat down and then you sat on his naked thigh, entering your impressively long password and pulling up your mostly completed article. You flipped through your notebook to your stats sheet, and Bradley let his hand come to rest on your leg. 

"You wanna help me?" you asked, typing away. "Tell me when Soto was on third."

Bradley skimmed the sheet and found the information. "Bottom of the sixth inning. Right before Grisham hit a double." He leaned in and kissed your neck as you murmured thanks. 

"And when did Hill replace Darvish?"

Bradley read your sloppy notes and smiled. "Halfway through the seventh inning."

"Perfect," you whispered, and Bradley held you quietly as you scrolled to the top of your article and read it out loud. Your voice was captivating, and you somehow made the game he had seen in person even more interesting. He chuckled at the part where you mentioned how the Angels' coach had tripped coming out of the bullpen, and you smiled at him over your shoulder before you finished reading. 

"Damn, Ace," he muttered as you saved it one last time and logged in to submit the article. "That was brilliant." Bradley was getting hard again. Some sort of combination of what you said and how you said it turned him on. 

You closed your computer and laughed softly, nudging his erection with your knee as you turned in his arms. You glanced down at his cock, standing at attention for you, and Bradley could feel himself blushing. "Oh," you gasped, running your fingernails along his length as you grinned. "Eager again."

Bradley groaned and let his head tip back as you kissed his neck. "I think I'm always going to be eager for you. Talking about sports and wearing my Padres jersey are certainly helping."

Your laughter was his undoing as your lips met his warm cheek, and then Bradley watched your face as your pussy cradled his cock so that he was gently throbbing against your clit. "How many more condoms do we have?" you asked, fingers in his chest hair. 

"Nineteen," he replied, voice deep and raspy with need. 

"I'll be right back," you promised, kissing his lips before you stood and grabbed the unused condom from the bed. His jersey was open, offering him a peek here and there of your tits and belly as you moved. Then you were rolling this condom into place and straddling his hips on the chair.

Bradley pulled the jersey open wider so he could watch you sink around his cock. You felt like perfection, and the way your body looked as you took him was making him dizzy.

"You know," you sighed as he bottomed out inside you, "if the Angels start a different pitcher for game three, it could really throw off the Padres plans."

"Yeah?" he asked, stroking the soft skin of your waist as you rolled your hips. "Tell me more."

"Mmm, well, they've been following the same plan the whole season, right?" you asked, your lips grazing his as you spoke. 

"Yeah, they have," Bradley agreed, already ridiculously close as you fed him this brand of dirty talk.

"I think they should try something new and start Hermans instead," you whined, kissing him hard as you rode him.

"Are you trying to turn me on right now, Ace?"

"Yeah," you gasped as you fucked him harder. "Is it working?"

"You know it is, Baby," he groaned, grinding his hips up to meet yours. "Fuck, you already know how to make me wild."

Then you were gasping out pitching stats, your voice breaking as you rode him so well. Bradley was barely keeping it together, and then your fingers were in his hair, tugging at the roots. He knew what to do now; he licked his fingers and brought them to your tight clit, and your eyes went wide. 

"Yes!" you gasped, seemingly surprised that he had you cumming almost instantly. And the sight of your tits bouncing in his face was the last thing he saw before he sucked on your nipples and came hard.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck as his breathing evened out. He was trying to focus on your words, because they sounded very important. "If the Padres sweep the Angels, then I won't be back in San Diego. But if they go to a game six scenario, maybe we can see each other again?"

Yes, your words were very, very important. He wanted you to come back to San Diego, but he was determined to see you even if you didn't. "I could come up to LA. Get a ticket for game three. If you want."

You pulled away from him, and then Bradley was looking up into your surprised eyes. "Yeah?" you asked softly. 

"Sure, Ace," he mumbled, running his knuckles along the soft valley between your breasts. "I'd love to. But it's up to you."

Your voice was soft. "Okay."

Then Bradley kissed your lips and said what was on his mind. "We should keep doing this. Me and you. Until the World Series ends. Until you have to leave California."

He could feel your pussy squeeze his soft cock as you started kissing him and running your fingers through his hair. And a few minutes later, he had you in your hotel room bed, snuggling up with your back pressed to the front of his body as you both fell asleep. 

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

Bradley is out there dropping a cool grand just to try to verify if that was actually a one night stand or not. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32

PART 3

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[aq2003]

lgbt hcs for dt's shakespeare roles

touchstone - genderfluid but he doesn't know what that is. doesn't particularly care abt the gender of the person he dates. though he has only been in relationships w women and also he cannot keep a relationship down for more than 2 months

antipholus of syracuse - cishet man. but this is incidental what really matters is that i think he is someone who was rejected by every girl he tried to confess his eternal and undying love towards

romeo - this is a he/him lesbian. just trust me on this one

berowne - the one disaster bi in a friend group of cishet men. someone please free him!

hamlet - trans man obviously bc this is hamlet. ace and bi as well but specifically in the sense that i feel like he hooked up with guildenstern one time and the sex was so terrible he spent a solid few years believing he was straight

benedick - the most he/they aroace bisexual you'll ever see in your life

richard ii - gay & nonbinary transfem. in fact so transfem that david tennant the actor started getting microaggressed by interviewers in real life

macbeth - nonbinary probably but he is currently plotting a whole bunch of murders and sinking himself further & further into the Blood so he doesn't have the time to think about that rn

[richarlotte]

things you’d recommend?

I. Find a day where you have a solid two and a half hours to yourself. I started my manifestation journey when I was nearly 18 and really wanted to make something of myself. While Joseph Murphy and Neville Goddard are amazing places to start today, we’re going to focus on Florence Scovel Shinn’s book “The Game of Life & How to Play It” and all that it brings. I’ve linked the free audiobook here and you’re going to listen to it, absorb it, and sit with your thoughts.

II. The next step is getting a journal started that’s completely dedicated to your new life. I got mine from TJ Maxx and I love it, it’s a fun leopard print diary. In this you’ll write your hopes and dreams for the future, your goals, how you’d like to see yourself thrive, your ideal image, your life story and your backstory, everything you could think of. You’re going to dedicate this journal to your journey and slowly work on filling it.

III. You’re going to slowly begin using positive thinking, implementing slow life changes, and making progress towards those goals. You should understand that making consistent efforts and using your time well is a key part of pulling things off, as is coordinating your bank accounts and saving, taking the time to update your goals (and journal) as you move along, and finding the time to correct what you should’ve done better. You build your base up, perfect what needs to be perfected as you’re moving forward, and execute your plans. 

IV: Take your time when it comes to making large changes. If one of your goals is to move cities to a place where no one knows you, glow up where you are and then start making the plans to go. It’s the same with drastic life changes like surgery and even changing your job; make sure you have extra money saved in case of complications and don’t pack up and run. If you want your changes to last and look good, take your time to make sure that you’re leaving to transition from one phase of your plan to the next, you’re preparing for the worst but expect the best, and you have an idea of what your end goal is. Real life changes take time and you have to remain dedicated.

V. Prepare to outgrow your original plan or want to adjust it as time moves along. This is really why you should constantly be updating your manifestation and planning journal; it will give you the ability to look back and see where things changed for you. I had a clear pivot in style and taste when I took Michigan, Syracuse, and Penn off my college lists and decided to go west, and my journaling from that time shows that pivot incredibly clearly. What I was manifesting also changed in college, and it’s interesting to look back and read how I talked myself out of becoming an OBGYN and going to France this summer and onto an entirely new. career path with new plans and a new internship. Journaling through transitions will help your path forward seem clearer and open your mind to new opportunities and experiences as you progress.

[literallys-illiteracy]

Oh boy time for me to do my thing and watch closely: New HTP episode released

When discussing the Regent of Great Yarmouth (referred to in the scene as "The master"), we see the background use the same silhouette as the figure credited as "The Monk" in the final scenes of the first episode.

I think that the theory of Kevin actually having telepathy, still screaming at D about the blender every so often (assuming he hasn't had time to meet Kevin since purchasing it) is very funny so I'm going with it. Kevin's dribble while going off script says "POWERFUL WIZARD LAZER".

-

The symptoms that Spit displays line up heavily with those of the Delirium (note that there are many many different effects that the Delirium may take), with one of the most common reactions being catatonia (essentially becoming unresponsive in shock/fear), also implying that Spit has a willpower of 1.

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Crossing off the supposed kindred from being a "Vampire Wizard" (presumably not only relating to Tremere but we don't know how the family classifies them), Kitten proposes them to be a Sludge Lad (Nosferatu) or Humanimal (Gangrel), also making a joke about La Ghostra Nostra, which I believe is mean to be a pun on La Cosa Nostra (The Sicilian Mafia).

As the group is still going by the assumption that this IS a vampire, they are treating it as if Simon (Spit) has been dominated (See previous HTP post for Domination). That AND Matilda posits that he could simply be faking it I Wonder Why.

Also yeah I ship it.

Brok is genuinely pissed at the idea of Spit being the ghoul for basically no reason bar the fact that they are/were friends for a long time.

Now we get to the part where I get to talk at length about the Irish man.

to start off with, I haven't actually the best guess as to what Occam fully is (other than being a hedge mage). The amulet he is wearing has a sigil which is common in Celtic circles called the Triskelion, this also has ties to Hellenistic history (most specifically in Sicily, which being the second mention of Sicily sent me down a weird rabbit hole, allow me to elaborate:)

Basically, the triskelion is linked to Sicily, Hellenism (used as a common symbol during the period) and the god Hermes (Hermes helped Perseus fetch the head of Medusa). This isn't the important part but by God if I did this research it isn't going to waste. (also there is a theoretical link between the fact that the symbol is not too distant from the god Hermes and the Order of Hermes but I don't think that's important)

In Sicily, in WoD, there are pretty much only two things of note: In Syracuse (city within Sicily for those unaware) is the old centre of the Clan Lasombra, however it has not been in major use for roughly 600 years by this point (1400's-2000).

The second thing is that there is a Cairn there which... Werewolves I guess.

There was a third section which started talking about the Ars Goetia and how that could also relate back to Occam's sorcery but I cut it.

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Back to the murder at hand(s) (claws?):

We can continue seeing Matilda be aggressive and defensive, we can also see her hands become visibly claw shaped when agitated:

Foreshadowing is-

Even while locked up, Matilda continues to direct attention towards both Spit and Git. Note how the episode consistently draws attention towards her, being the only non hunter who has more than a few lines (Non hunters being Spit, Git, Amanda, Matilda) and being the only one to directly point blame at any single person.

The time out box is back and with a full clear view of the symbol on the side.

The first thing I thought was mercury, due to the crescent shaped open top and the crossed centre line, however most depict mercury having a full circle and half stacked on top.

Then I realised that it was the symbol for the magic sphere of Matter. I then also found where/what the symbol properly was.

The only proper source I can find for this symbol is this researchgate proposal about unicode.

The fourth image lists the symbol as "amalgam", but oddly enough both figures 1 and 3 disagree with fig. 4 and with each other as to what the proper symbol for amalgam is.

Alchemy is weird like that sometimes, anyways I spent way too long on this moving on.

Referring to spit, the obvious odd behaviour he displayed throughout the last episode.

Funnily enough, this can be explained through the excuse Git gave before, his Ritalin (ADHD medication) wearing off. For those unaware, there is a side effect of prescriptions stimulants, specifically when they are wearing off, in which one becomes extremely tired, irritable, agitated, hungry, or anxious when their medication runs out of their system. This can be worse with children or those with comorbid mental health problems such as anxiety or depressive disorders; crashing or rebounding in extreme cases, like seen with Spit, can be a sign that the dosage of medication is wrong (too high), or simply that your body doesn't vibe with the stimulant, in which case you should consult your psychiatrist and change medications. Speaking from experience, it's never fun to crashland from being relatively normal into being a prick.

Uh considering that Git also has a nicotine dependency (seen through his desperation for getting his smokes back), I can't help but wonder what substance Brokham is using. Honestly looking at him? Anabolic Steriods.

Which is to say that... uh. Spit goes in the box.

Ok so I want to let HTP be its own thing for the most part but there is a 0% chance this isn't an intentional reference so i'll note it down:

these two paintings that mark the archive: the left is a reference to Ephrael Stern, a Sister of Battle known as the "Thrice Born" or "Daemonifuge". We can see this from the fact that she has the same blue lipstick and a cross-tattoo on the same areas as her TTS depiction.

For similar, design correlated reasons, it is safe to assume that the portrait on the right is inspired by Aurelia Malys of the Dark Eldar, whose TTS portrayal is below:

There's probably some sort of foreshadowing going on here related to Markus seeking entrance to the Archives, Magnus seeking the Black Library, and Ephrael being in the Library for most of TTS.

final note about the door, I cannot be bothered to try and find the meaning of the alchemical symbols on the door but they are there and unimportant if anyone wants to check it out.

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These two books have visible writing.

"Immortal Divorce Court (1)" and "Vamp Dictionary"

Please skip to the next red texted note if you don't want to read Latin lessons.

"Oculus Empyrean".

When I was first watching this episode, I misheard this as "Oculus Imperium" and got very confused because that would mean "Eye control(er)" (or more strictly it would be "Eye's control")

Oculus Empyrean (sort of) translates into "Eye of Heaven". The "Sort of" comes from the fact that Empyrean comes from medieval latin/early middle english, and also because of inflection.

Taking Oculus Empyrean at face value means "Eye Heaven" (unless my Latin is finally slipping as I go senile). This is because both Oculus and Empyrean are in the nominative case.

For non inflection-language speakers: The nominative case is used when a noun is the subject of an active verb, eg.

"The Ball was kicked into a tree" where "The Ball" is the nominative noun.

"Good Girl" for example would have nominative singular Puella (girl) and genitive singular version of Bonum, Boni, (Good) to create the phrase "Boni Puella".

However, that being said, unless listing nouns (the door, the wall, the shelf, and....-) or making a direct relation between two nouns (Jon is a farmer = Jon agricola est), I don't remember a case for multiple nominative inflections in a row; This is why it is more accurately translated to just Eye Heaven.

To actually write "The eye of heaven" in Latin, inflect both Eye and Heaven in the genitive case to indicate a relation between the two (as neither noun is the subject of a verb):

Oculi caeli

(I just swapped Empyrean for Caelum because they both mean heaven) (also, if you check this on google translate, due to Oculi being both the nominative plural, and the genitive singular of Oculus (as is the case for second declination nouns) it will probably translate as "eyes(plural) of heaven")

ok back to the actual episode because ????

The newburgh group is one of the members of the Coalition (Second Inquisition), which heavily backs the arcanum.

Ok so back on the eye real quick

This isn't an alchemical symbol, believe me, I've done multiple hours of research about alchemy today alone (if I had a nickel for every time I researched alchemy in depth for a media series I would have three nickels-)

the closest I could find in any of my sources was

Attramentum Vitriolum (Black vitriol), which lacks the central dot, and Auripigment (Arsenic Sulphide, literal translation is "gold coloured"), which lacks the central dot and is tilted to 45%

We can see here that the eye projects some sort of "red beam" from its... iris? I guess? which then connects into Markus'.

The red beam may relate back to the concept of the Empyrean. We've had our alchemy lessons, we've had latin lessons, time for a mythology lesson for an esotericism trifecta.

Beforehand, when I said that Empyreum means Heaven, I wasn't lying, just simplifying. The Empyrean, in ancient european myth, is the heavens beyond our terrestrial spheres; the empyrean referred to the spheres of existence permeated and constructed from, the element of Aether, the fifth element.

This may explain the symbol of the eye itself, having 5 nodes on a cross representing the 5 elements, but that's conjecture. The important part of this potential connection to the aether is the fact that, in the 5'th century, there was an alchemical theory of "Quintessence", being a similar conceptual "fifth element" of which the heavens were made of.

Quintessence in fact literally means 5th element. Quintessence is also present in World of Darkness lore:

in essence, in Mage the Ascension, Quintessence is basically the fabric of reality. The entire tapestry of reality, all things within, are made of quintessence.

I've already gone on too many tangents so i'm stopping myself from going deeper into Mage.

I can't be fucked looking for another one, also im 90% sure that i'd be barking up the wrong tree because I do not recognise those triangle ones.

Technically one could interpret the boxes with circles inside them as being the sign for urine.

***

Update because I'm dumb:

as people have pointed out, these symbols are Hunter marks, symbols used by and recognisable to Imbued (mildly supernatural hunters).

In my defence, I'm not a hunter, so I wouldn't know.

The three symbols seen are "imbued" (on the eye), Danger (the rectangle one) and "Puppet" (Triangle)

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as was very predicted by ms WILD who was always wearing gloves.

also from the sheer brutality, the delirium symptoms, the pinning of blame on others, the antisocial personality, claw marks all around the arcanum, and complete lack of surprise at the reveal of vampires existing.

Foreshadowing certainly WAS a literary device-

also would?

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in the ensuing fight, D is fairly easily overpowered, gains a large neck gash from claw marks, and cuts off matilda's left arm

Remold also shoots with his... cane gun? a phosphorus bullet. Phosphorus is known for like one main thing and it is that it burns like crazy, hence why "no vampire could survive that"

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I don't think that the reactions of each cast member are meant to actually reflect their willpower scores, except for Git and Spit who totally fit willpower 1.

That being said, time to organise each reaction into the different delirium reactions/willpower's:

Note how Grimal is strong enough to scratch into the tiling of the walls out of sheer fright.

That being said, every character in this scene, including D and Remould (which is why I'm saying that this probably doesn't fully reflect accurate stats) takes little to no action for this first section.

Also, immediately after we see the two elders, both clearly afraid, but still maintaining composure and fighting smart, think back to what D said back in the first audiolog:

"Trust your wits, not your fists"

probably somewhere around 9-10 range. 10 is defined as no reaction, and both are clearly afraid of the situation, but no matter your will, a werewolf running at you is scary.

Willpower 4, the berzerk reaction. As D put it "some may attack with extreme vigour"

In this scene here, we can hear the wound of the knife hissing after it has cut: either this is the knife "enchanted with death magicks" from the Guy Chapman audiolog, or the knife is made of silver. Either way this is called aggravated damage. Unless they changed something in W5 i've not played it.

Also this is probably just like a moth spirit or something, potentially this could be that one auspice that allows you to transport something from the umbra at will? unlikely though

willpower 4, berzerk.

Willpower.... 10? I don't think that this was an uncalculated action, I just think Markus is bad at math and doesn't know the strength of a werewolf.

I mean he had some of the shortest time between sight and thought out action, so at the very least a 7 (afraid but rational).

Also STAKE JACKET IS THE BEST IDEA.

We can assume that these are the spirits that Tilda (who from this point forward I will refer to as Tl;dr) has gifts from. Can't say which gifts, hard to say most things about spirits in general, so yeah.

in Audiolog one, we discussed: Vampires/Ghouls (which we have fought and met) Werewolves (just now fighting) (specifically Black Shuck) Witches/mages (Potentially seen?) Ghosts (wraiths); (Potentially seen?).

The mention of wizards was a specific tale of a witch, which remains unseen, and the "ghost" was that one with the well.

This marks the first named foreshadowed character appearing except for the fiddler/monk at the end of episode one.

Willpower 4: berzerk.

seems the spirit's name is Jambles? even more terrifying, the spirit might be french.

[cityofmeliora]

Cardi wishes he could've had a real father-son relationship with Nihil 😢

despite the obvious bullying / disrespect / hostility between them, Cardi accepts Nihil as his father much more easily than he accepts Sister Imperator as his mother.

after Cardi found out they're related, he actually started to acknowledge Nihil as his father. at concerts, he's referred to Nihil as "my dad", "my daddy", "my daddy-o", "my papa", "pops", "my old man", "my father", and "my old pop" dozens of times. but he's never once referred to Sister Imperator as his mother in any way. did you notice that? because i think about this a lot.

Cardi is bitter about Nihil having been an absent father.

PAPA EMERITUS IV: You know… my dad… not much of a dad. Bristow, Virginia, USA (August 24, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: That’s my old man. Or was. Pretty sucky father, but he still can blow. Syracuse, New York, USA (August 18, 2023)

but i don't think Cardi's bitterness about Nihil being an absent father is anger or hatred towards Nihil for failing to be a parent... i think it's a lamentation of the fact that they never even got a chance because they didn't find out they were father and son until Cardi was 51 years old and Nihil was already dead.

every time Cardi said Nihil was a bad father / an absent father, he always ended up saying "it's okay." or "he's okay." Cardi wants things to be okay. at the show in Sydney, in particular, Cardi genuinely sounds so sad and disappointed about their situation.

PAPA EMERITUS IV: My old dad. He wasn’t much of a father –he kind of sucked at that– but he sure as shit blows really good. Yeah, no, he– he’s fine, he’s fine, except for being dead. Auburn, Washington, USA (August 4, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: My old man… First, he was just a fart that I met. And then I got to know that he was my dad. Yeah. He's– he was okay. Milwaukee, Wisconsin, USA (August 12, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: You see– I’m your Papa, but that’s my papa. He’s an okay papa. Or he was. He’s dead now, but we sort of drag him out for the good shows. Buenos Aires, Argentina (September 24, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: That’s my old man. Well… He never was much of a papa to me, but… it’s okay. Sydney, Australia (October 3, 2023)

i think Cardi, deep down, wants to forgive Nihil. he wishes they could've had a real father-son relationship. Cardi still longs for the parent he always wanted and needed but never had.

Cardi frequently talked about how Nihil used to be a singer / entertainer like Cardi is now, and Cardi said he thinks he must have gotten his talent from Nihil. as someone so proud of his own accomplishments, someone who's been shown multiple times to believe he's better than all the other Papas before him, it's strange for Cardi to say he got his talent from someone else. Cardi never said these kinds of things before he found out Nihil was his father, never even acknowledging the fact that he was allowed to become the frontman of Ghost because of Nihil's blessing. but he's saying these things now because he clearly wants to feel a connection to Nihil– to his father, even though he doesn't like to admit it.

PAPA EMERITUS IV: He was, once upon a time, a singer like I am. And he did a few tunes. I don’t know if you’ve heard them. They’re okay– they’re okay. Bristow, Virginia, USA (August 24, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: But you know, he used to sing, like I do! And he was an okay singer, actually. I must have got it from somewhere, I guess. Athens, Greece (June 25, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: You know, back in the day, he used to be a singer. I hate to say it, but I think I got it from him. Yeah. He was an okay singer. Auburn, Washington, USA (August 4, 2023)

PAPA EMERITUS IV: That was my– my old papa. He’s okay. He’s not that good. And I guess the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree… So he’s okay. Mexico City, Mexico (September 18, 2023)

Nihil and Cardi never got along, but there was still hope that it wasn't too late for their relationship to develop. in RITE HERE RITE NOW, as Cardi struggled with confusion about his life and feelings of anxiety over his time as Papa ending, Nihil offered Cardi some "entertainer advice".

PAPA NIHIL: Son– You seem to think of your life as a zero-sum game. As if you living in a house means that nobody has ever lived in the same house before you. That nobody will ever live there after you. That even before there was a house there, nobody walked that ground it now stands upon. It's not pleasant to think about that, I know. You have to be more here. Right here. Right now. I have also lived a long life that I was precious about. Life is not always how you scripted it. I am almost 80 years old, and I'm dead. But I still am part of it. Making the people rock. Look, I always wanted to entertain people… and be a part of the night, be a part of the world of magic and wonder– showbiz. And I am. Even now that I am dead, I can still entertain those people for a brief moment every night. And that is meaningful. Do you think that is how I wanted it to pan out? PAPA EMERITUS IV: Thank you, dad. RITE HERE RITE NOW

while i think Nihil's advice is kinda terrible considering the context that Cardi was legitimately afraid his parents were going to murder him and put his body on display for his successor's fans (which was not an irrational fear, because they literally actually did do that to his older brothers), i do think Nihil was genuinely speaking from his heart, and it got through to Cardi. that was the first time they had ever addressed each other directly as "dad" / "son".

so it seemed like they were starting to make real progress in their relationship. unfortunately, they're right back to bullying / disrespecting / being hostile to each other in the post-credits scene, so who knows how much that moments of sincerity and vulnerability actually affected them. 🙄

but yeah. ugh. it fucking kills me the way Cardi so clearly wants to forgive Nihil and wishes he could've had a real father-son relationship with him. they cannot fucking stand each other. but i think they could have loved each other. in a better life.