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#and katy's husband was like...
justaz · 3 months
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au where like keith spent those two years on the space whale and allura brought shiro back to life but they still can’t go back to earth. shiro has gone grey, no black hair on his head, he’s retired and stays on the castle, does not pilot a lion. keith and lance are now like the “leaders” of the team. like keith relies heavily on lance support and lance thrives in the sort of co-leader dynamic they have. pidge casually referring to “dad” and lance being like “shiro or keith??” and pidge going “shiro is retired and has a full head of white hair. who do you think i’m talking about?” so shiro has been promoted from space dad to space grandpa and lance and keith are now mom and dad
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antihibikase-archive · 7 months
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Blight / Blur : Gym Guides
In Gen 5 canon, there's only one gym guide throughout each of the gyms, named Clyde, who gives you a bottle of Fresh Water upon entering/upon interacting with him.
In Blur/Blight, however, Clyde is specifically the gym guide in Burgh's gym. In BW, he was the guide for Burgh's gym as he had a taste for his art- in BW2, however, he becomes the gym guide for Cheren's gym!
There are different gym guides for each gym leader, and they have their own partner Pokemon;
Striaton - Waitress Tia (Patrat)
Nacrene - Scientist Satomi (Herdier)
Castelia - Gentleman Clyde (Deerling) / Harlequin Jack (Swadloon)
Nimbasa - Lady Colette (Flaafy)
Driftveil - Clerk Katie (Drilbur)
Mistralton - Pilot Chase (Unfezant)
Icirrus - Black Belt Thomas (Cubchoo)
Opelucid - Veteran Kim (Fraxure) / Veteran Ron (Fraxure)
Aspertia - Gentleman Clyde (Sawsbuck)
Virbank - Guitarist Billy Jo (Koffing)
Humilau - Ace Trainer Santino (Walrein)
Clyde's trainer class is a Gentleman, he's just dressed differently!
All the other gym guides in Blur/Blight are existing NPCs in the games! Some of them are npcs in only one of the games, while some are npcs in both, but unless specified, they're the gym guides in both BW and BW2! (Harlequin Jack and Pilot Chase are in both BW/BW2 for example, but Clerk Katie is only in BW!)
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enjomo-arch · 7 months
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ace & nami couple goals is just squatting together
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coyging · 1 year
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unclekaz · 6 months
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writing springtrap x reader has made literally realize the best combo of music tastes for the murder rabbit. i genuinely like thinking he has the music tastes of a 13yo girl with catchy bubblegum pop songs, but also LOVES the disco-era feel-good jams of the 80's, but also much more soft and smooth 80's ballads. sometimes he'd rather listen to this bombastic new era of music he never experienced, and enjoy more contemporized hit pieces of music he was probably around to hear before getting gored by the suit!
god forbid you ask him for music recommendations. you're literally only gonna get stuff like Call Me Maybe right next to Together Forever
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debbiechanclub · 1 year
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Oh no. I dreamed about Mark last night. And it was a whole fucking saga??? Putting it behind a cut because typing this out ended up being longer than I expected.
So the premise was that Aussie Open and I were both going to some wedding and it was at a mall for some reason. Or maybe the wedding wasn't at the mall, but a lot of the dream took place at a mall, probably because AO was also wrestling at the mall. And there was this whole forbidden attraction vibe between Mark and me because I was also married in the dream and so obviously that would be cheating which I feel guilty about even now?? But the only thing that ended up happening was we held hands while sitting on a couch... in the mall 😂
But then after that was the wrestling show. And I wasn't gonna go to it because of the weirdness with Mark, but then I was like, fuck it, I'm going. But while I was sitting in the crowd waiting for it to start I started talking with the girl next to me and we got along really well, and she convinced me to leave and help her go get something from some house nearby?? Idk.
So the girl, some other chick, and I arrive at the house, and not long after we get there I realize there's something off about the situation. Like the girl is acting shady. And then all of sudden I hear someone else come in and I'm like, oh my God, this girl is trying to rob this house.
So we book it out to the car. Turns out this girl has a warrant out for her arrest, and now I'm on the fucking run with her. And I guess the car breaks down at some point because then suddenly the three of us are running from the cop on foot, and the cop is on horseback for some reason?? And I did a real shit job hiding so he found me, but I was let off basically scot-free after I explained the situation and told them everything I could about the girl. Oh and we were out Midwest somewhere because I remember trying to give the officer directions about where the girl had gone and I apologized because I wasn't from there. And after I was let go I said to myself, "I probably missed AO's match, Mark is gonna hate me" 😂😂😂
I think I did make it back to catch the end of their match but then either the dream ended or I woke up because I don't remember anything after that. But if you read this far, this has been Katie's Dream Diary. Hope you were entertained.
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urgeforgoing · 11 months
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I’m watching vanderpump rules and tbh if my friend tried to hook up ex husband (when we’re not officially yet divorced) with another girl in OUR FRIEND GROUP I would literally jump off a cliff
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scortchedtoast · 2 years
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The husbands and boyfriends on potmac are some of the worst in all of housewives besides Ray and Eddie
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w-artie · 3 months
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can somebody fucking explain it to me what happens in my brain every time I see fucking Tom Hiddleston (Loki) or David Tennant (Crowley and yea 10) or Ncuti Gatwa (I've seen 15 for like an episode but i just-) and one memorable time also Jonathan i-cant-remember-his-surname (fucking Anthony Bridgerton for fuck sake) like what is this feeling I watch them walk and talk and move and smile and the rooms they're in sort of disappear around them they have just this big presence but its not like boasted they are very lovely people so polite so kind so respectful and they are so fucking pleasing to look at i just can't stop staring at them the word that comes into mind is pretty but it's not just that it's like this feeling of want not for the people but for the aesthetic like I wanna be like that I want to feel like that i just-
what's wrong with me seriously
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drtwelt · 1 year
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justaz · 1 year
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lance and hunk would so get married just for the fuck of it. like they so had a little vegas wedding with matt as the flower girl and stayed married for a few months then got divorced just for the dramatics
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bradshawsbaby · 7 months
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Love in the Air
Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader
Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?
Word Count: 12.5k
Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.
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If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.
Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.
“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”
“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.
“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”
Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.
Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.
You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.
It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.
You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.
“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”
“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.
“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.
“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.
“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”
And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.
It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.
Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.
“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”
“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”
How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.
“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”
Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.
“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”
Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”
“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.
“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.
“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”
“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.
All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.
“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.
The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.
“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.
“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”
“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.
“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.
You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.
“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.
You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.
As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.
You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.
Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.
By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.
You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.
When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.
Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.
Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.
Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.
At the gate yet???
Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.
Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.
Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.
😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!
Katie, it’s not even 9am…
So? A mimosa then!
You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.
When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.
Any cuties to share that mimosa with???
You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.
Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.
He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.
Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?
Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.
You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.
Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.
‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️
At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.
Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!
Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.
Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!
Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.
Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.
“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.
It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.
Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.
Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.
You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.
The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!
Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.
At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.
When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.
As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.
Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.
“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.
“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.
“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”
Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?
“I—I—”
“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.
Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.
“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.
With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.
“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”
You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”
The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”
Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?
“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”
He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”
“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”
“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”
“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”
“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”
“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.
Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.
Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.
Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.
Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.
“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.
Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.
“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”
“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.
Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.
Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.
On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?
It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.
Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!
You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.
Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.
OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!
How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?
It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!
Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?
Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.
Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.
Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.
It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.
As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.
Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!
I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!
You better answer me!!!
Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.
Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.
Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.
What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️
You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.
You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.
You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.
Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.
Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.
Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.
You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?
Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.
Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.
A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.
What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.
You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.
Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 
You’d written your note in black ink.
Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.
Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.
What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.
At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.
Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.
Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.
Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.
Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.
You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.
It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.
Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!
You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.
Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.
The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.
Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.
Bradley only took seconds to reply.
Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.
Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.
Hey! I thought we were friends!
We’ll see 😉
You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.
As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.
I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.
Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.
Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.
Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.
Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.
You’re on.
When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.
You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.
You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.
“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.
When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.
“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.
“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.
Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.
Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.
“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.
The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.
“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.
You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.
“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”
Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”
Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.
“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.
Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”
He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.
“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.
“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”
You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”
He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”
“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.
Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”
You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”
“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.
“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.
“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.
He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.
The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.
“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”
It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”
“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”
You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.
“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.
Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.
“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.
“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.
“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”
“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”
“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”
“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.
“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.
“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.
“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.
“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”
Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”
“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”
She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.
Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.
“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.
“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.
“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”
Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.
As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.
“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.
“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”
Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.
Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.
Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.
“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”
“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.
Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.
“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”
“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.
At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”
Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?
“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”
Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?
Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”
He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.
“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”
You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.
“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”
Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”
“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.
“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.
Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.
“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.
“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.
“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”
“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.
You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.
“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.
Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.
“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.
The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”
“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”
“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”
Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.
“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”
Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?
“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.
Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.
Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”
Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.
“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.
“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”
Someone like you?
The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.
You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.
You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.
“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.
You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.
“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”
You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”
“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”
Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.
To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.
“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”
“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.
For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.
At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.
“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.
“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”
“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”
“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.
By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.
You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?
All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.
“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.
“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”
“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.
“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.
“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”
“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.
Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.
“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.
“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”
“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.
Too late, you realized your mistake.
“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”
“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”
“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.
“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.
A moment later, she texted you back.
YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!
Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.
“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.
“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.
“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.
“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.
“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.
Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.
Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.
“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.
“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.
“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.
“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.
“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.
“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.
You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.
“Promise.”
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schrodingerscougar · 1 month
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You send boyfriend!Simon Katy Perry's song ‘Unconditionally’ because you heard it on the radio and it reminded you of him. It makes him realize he wants to spend the rest of his life with you, so he buys a ring and asks you to marry him the next day. You say yes.
Husband!Simon can't stop thinking about you when he’s on a mission somewhere far from you. He even talks about you a lot, making Johnny annoyed with him very soon. Gaz asks questions, hoping to find out more about the one and only Mrs. Riley, while Price only smiles and shares his own experiences with the lieutenant.
Two years into your marriage Husband!Simon can’t help but notice the distance between you and the wall you’re building around yourself. You work late, you hang out with your friends, you don’t talk much. If he tries to start a conversation, you’re quick to shut him down with some ridiculous excuse.
Ex-husband!Simon tries to keep in touch with you. He sends you messages on your birthday and different holidays, wishing you well and asking if you’re doing okay. He even talks to your father every now and then since the old man always loved him as a son.
It’s clearly not an accident that you meet ex-husband!Simon at a friend’s birthday party. You were both on good terms with them, and as it turned out, she tried to get the two of you back together by inviting you to the event. When you want to leave, he offers to let you stay, but in the end you both stay.
This party is followed by written conversations, short messages that reach beyond curtesy. Ex-husband!Simon once asks you if you’d like to grab a drink, and five hours later you’re in bed, bodies entangled under the sheets. “What now?” you asked him as you’re lying next to each other. He says he doesn’t know, but he doesn’t want to lose you again.
One year later you and Simon get married again, this time setting rules so your relationship couldn’t fade again. You will talk. You will go out on dates. You will even go to couples’ therapy if that’s what you need to stay together.
Another year and a half later you and husband!Simon celebrate your son’s first birthday in the company of friends and family. Finally, you both know things would be all right.
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“but james potter was a bully””he bullied snape!!!” ok? someone had to do it.
🙄
~Here’s a list of good and shitty things Snape did canonically:
Bad:
•Snape was a blood supremacist who called lily a slur.
•invented a curse for enemies (marauders)
I don’t think a good person would make up a curse which mutilates someone terribly. That too, during his time in Hogwarts.
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•oh yeah later on he became a death eater 😋 (the main goal of the death eaters wasto eliminate all muggle-borns in the wizarding world and establish voldemort as its ruler)(magical nazis basically).
Plus when voldy was going to kill lily, Snape was like yk what you can kill the husband and the INFANT just don’t hurt my lily flower teehee like okay james bullied him so him not caring about james made sense but harry was a child bro
•BULLIED CHILDREN DURING HIS TIME AS A PROFESSOR????? he was literally neville’s bogart ffs and not because “some teachers are just scary okay Neville was afraid of almost everything!!!” but because Snape bullied neville on a daily basis plus threatened to kill his pet after a failed potion thingy. plus he made fun hermione’s physical appearance (when draco made her teeth all big and Snape was like hah it’s the same there’s no difference) and he bullied for BEING GOOD AT ACADEMICS LIKE 😭😭😭???? He bullied almost everyone in Hogwarts I just know it.
•sectumsempra’d George’s year off.
•tried to out Remus Lupin as a werewolf for NO reason other than his childish misdemeanour.
Good:
•called Sirius and Remus an old married couple.
•saves Katie bell from a cursed necklace
•saves draco malfoy from a terrible curse that could’ve killed him by the counter charm “vulnera saneteur”
can someone guess which curse Snape saved draco from??? You’re right! It was sectumsempra!
•switched sides or smth
~Here’s a list of good and shitty things james did canonically:
Bad:
•called Snape snivellus (was funny ngl)
•bully snape
Good:
•turned into an illegal animagus at the age of 15 so his werewolf friend (Remus) has company during his transformations.
•took sirius black in after he ran away from an abusive hoursehold.
•SAVED FUCKING SNAPE FROM REMUS IN HIS WEREWOLF FORM AFTER SIRIUS SENT HIM THERE.
JAMES SAVED SNAPE.
•literally died trying to stall Voldemort so Lily and Harry have some time to escape or just live in general.
So my point is canon james was a bit of an asshole but he still did way more good deeds than Snape even though Snape was in all the seven books like one of the good things he did was literally the consequences of his own actions (healing draco).
All of this is canon btw. NONE of it is fanon.
sincerely keep my wife’s name out of your fucking mouth he did what should have been done.
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cutie
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nana-gumi · 3 months
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unconditionally g. satoru
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pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader
cw: soulmates au, angst, deaths, historical events, spoilers on manga ig?, illness, blood, gore, fem! reader, typographical errors, listened to unconditionally by katy perry when writing this!
a/n: let's go, first post! thank you for helping me proofread @xuanzangg mwah
in every universe, you were soulmates. you were his and he was yours. what happens if one day you woke up, you weren't soulmates like how it was used to be 1000 years ago?
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in every universe we'll live in, i will always choose you
" 'toru.." you weakly whispered as your lover held you tightly on his arms, a sword piercing through your chests as blood continues to seep out of your clothes.
"hold on to me." satoru stammered as he choked on his own blood.
"i can't breath no more." you said as you pant heavily.
a curse left his lips as satoru wiped the blood off of your mouth, gently caressing your cheek.
satoru groans as he looked up to the person who happened to thrust a single sword into your bodies, a person he never thought would betray him.
"i trusted you!" satoru yelled followed by a cough as he held you close to his chest.
"that's the weakness of the queen, too softhearted, too gullible." the betrayer said as he forced the sword out of you and satoru's chest. "may you rest in peace, queen and king." he said as he left the place with his people.
there were dead bodies of your comrades around, not a single person left breathing, they were all killed.
"s-satoru.." you mumbled as you cupped your lover's cheek with your bloodied hands. "if the gods gave us another chance to live, will you still choose me as your lover?" you said as satoru opened his closed eyes and looked at you.
"i will. in every universe we'll live in, i will always choose you." he said as he placed his forehead against yours. "i love you, my queen." he mumbled, his breathing getting slower and slower.
"i love you too, my king."
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we'll meet again, my love.
if you died once, you couldn't possibly live again right?
you never believed in those words at first, but now, you're starting to believe them.
this man infront of you, the person who happened to always appear in your dreams, standing right infront of you.
"princess (name), it's an honor to finally meet you." he said as he bowed for respect as you did the same.
you were staring at him as he was.
"prince satoru, i think i've met you before." the said man laughed at your words as he held your hand on his, placing a kiss on your knuckles after winking at you.
"likewise, princess (name). it feels like i've known you my whole life but, it is the first time we met."
marrying the prince of the other kingdom wasn't a thing you expected, not when you're already a dying vegetable. you were born with a curse that when you reached the age of 25, it was the end.
at the age of 18, you married the only son of the gojo clan, a marriage where you thought your husband will be cruel and unloving like the books you read, but turns out, satoru loved you with all of his heart (just like in your past lives). he cherished you just like how you deserved it.
at the age of 24, satoru started neglecting you, or what you thought he did but it wasn't his intention though, he just doesn't want to see you disappear before him and you understand that. who would want to take care of someone who's death was already set.
but a week before your birthday, before everything ends, satoru came back to you.
"i'm turning 25 soon, prince." he was standing at the window near the bed, his sword on his hand as he kept quiet.
you sat on the bed as you caress the soft pillow in your fingers.
you heard the sound of his sword as you watch him make his way to the door.
you smiled sadly as clutched the pillow with your weakening grasp.
"satoru, will you be back?" you asked and he finally faced you.
satoru clicked his tongue, the only reason he disappeared was because he searched every land for a cure, something that would remove the curse that was casted upon you, yet not a single information was given to him.
satoru cursed under his breath as he dropped the sword on his hand, running towards you as he embraced you as tight as he could, hoping that his hold would make you stay forever.
you cupped his cheeks in your hands as you leaned your forehead to his.
"why are you crying?" you asked and it made him cry more.
"i'm scared." he said as you wiped his tears with your thumb.
"don't be, my love. i'm still here." you said as he shake his head.
"i was looking for a cure..i've searched everywhere but-" he let out a sob as he took a deep breath.
"really? i appreciate it." you said, giving him an assuring smile. "but we both know that the curse doesn't have cure." he knew that, he was just desperate.
the day of your birthday was finally coming.
it was almost midnight as you lay in bed with your lover.
"satoru, remember when you said that it's like you've known me your whole life?" you asked, looking up at him as you lay your head on his chest. "i think i get it now. it's because we're past lovers, satoru."
he chuckled in response as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "i know, from the moment i saw you, i already knew it was you, my queen."
you lay back on his chest as the surroundings went silent.
you felt his hands tightened around your form as the ticking of the clock can be heard.
"this is it, satoru."
"fuck.. i hate this." he mumbled as he clenched his fists. he couldn't do anything but to watch you die before him.
"satoru, in another universe, it's still me and you, right?"
"mhm, me and you. we'll meet again, my love."
you couldn't control your tears anymore as you kiss him for the last time.
"i love you so much, my prince." you said as satoru wiped your tears with his thumb.
"you'll always be my princess. i love you."
you and satoru went to sleep that night but the difference was he was the only one who woke up the next morning.
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you are the strongest, right? my everything..
"sensei?!" yuuji exclaimed as he saw his teacher, gojo satoru walking with you, an enemy as if you and him were friends.
gojo finally approached his surprised students as he placed his arms on your head like you were something to lean on.
"this is our ally now." satoru said as you rolled your eyes at him. "right, my queen." satoru half-joked as his students were now more than surprise.
"you forced me." you joked as satoru leaned down to your height, placing a finger on your lips.
"shh, it was you who begged me to spare you."
"i did not-!"
"are we supposed to see this?" nobara said as megumi left the scene.
"welcome, ms. (name)!" yuuji exclaimed as you nod at him.
"you almost killed us before! i won't trust you for now." nobara said as she crossed her arms before following megumi who just left.
"well, kugisaki is right, but since it was gojo-sensei who introduced you, i guess i'll trust you." yuuji said, following his friends who just left.
satoru chuckled as he started walking ahead.
"gojo-"
"satoru." he said, cutting you off as he faced you.
"satoru.. it's still me and you, right?" you said as you smiled at him and another chuckle left his glossy lips.
"seems like we met again, my love. i've been waiting for you."
-
"satoru!" you forced the door open as you saw his friend, shoko doing her best to heal him.
"stay back!" his comrades said.
right, they still don't trust you. you were an enemy after all.
if satoru was standing beside you, he already protected you but he couldn't, not when he's laying on a bed, cut into half as his comrades gather around to see his situation.
seconds, minutes and an hour passed, there was no progress at all, shoko was losing her strength as she finally surrendered.
she shake her head left to right, indicating that she couldn't do anything at the situation anymore.
they left the room one by one until it was just you, him and shoko.
shoko covered his body with a white cloth as you noticed her clenched her fist.
you were standing by the door, processing the events in your head.
shoko walked past you, taking your hand as she placed something on it. a necklace, something satoru owned as she finally left.
you walked slowly to your lover as you removed the cloth that was covering his face.
your lips started to quiver as you caress his already cold cheeks
"satoru, you are the strongest right? come on, wake up now, my everything."
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until we meet again, mr. gojo satoru
gojo satoru was the strongest in your past life but he died in a gruesome death.
the day he died, the day you were cursed with immortality. a curse where the person you love the most will forget you, and if the time comes that, that person remembers you, you'll disappear.
you stand before a large painting inside a museum where a king and a queen embracing each other, a sword piercing through their bodies as the king cries blood tears.
"mesmerizing, is it not?" a voice said and not just a voice, you recognized it very clearly.
a gasp left your mouth as you as stand face to face with your lover.
"satoru?.." you mumbled in disbelief, taking a one step and another as you embraced the man. "you're finally here! i've been waiting for you." you said as you look up at him.
"ah, i'm sorry but this is the first time we meet." he said and all of your hope disappeared as you took a step back.
"satoru?" another voice called him as he turned around, revealing the person. "there you are! we've been searching for you. this museum's quite big."
"i'm sorry, this painting caught my attention, oh by the way-" satoru looked back only to see no one. he looked around the place, searching for the lady he just spoke with but she was nowhere to be seen.
it was supposed to be you and him. satoru was your soulmate, not the woman you haven't seen in your whole life, they even had a son that almost looked like him.
in the end, you went back to your usual spot, where you and satoru first met when both of you were still a sorcerer.
you leaned your back against the old tree, hugging your knees close to your chest as you cry.
a broken heart was worst than death.
it was always you who dies first in your past lives. did satoru wait for you this long too? did he once watched you fell in love with someone that's not you?
you think not, because whenever you reunite with him, he'll be the first one to recognize you.
it's all because of that stupid witch and the curse she left to you.
-
how ironic that you always cross paths with the said man.
in the mall, the park, the grocery store and anywhere, you just don't show yourself to him. it'll only break your heart more watching him be happy with someone.
"wait!" he yelled as you tried your best to run away from him. he finally catch up to you as his hand burned your skin. "what the hell?" he said, feeling the same burning sensation.
he didn't even notice that you were already running away.
"just a moment please!" he called. you stopped in your tracks, letting him catch up to you as you faced him.
you wanted to hug him so bad, to kiss him and tell him how much you missed him. but you don't have the rights to do so.
"this is yours." he said, showing you a gold necklace.
you frantically searched the necklace in your pockets and there was none so you harshly took it from his hands.
"my name was engraved on it and another one. is that you? is (name) your name?" he asked as you nod. "you were that lady from the museum, right?"
"what museum?" satoru was about to say something but he was cut off when his phone started ringing.
"ah sorry, my family's looking for me." he said and he didn't know how much those simple words broke your heart.
you watched him walk back to the grocery store, leaving you alone with nothing but a shattered soul.
-
your name had slipped off his lips accidentally that led an argument between him and his wife.
he's been having a dream with someone but the face was a blur, he couldn't recognize the person.
"satoru." you mumbled as you cupped your lover's cheek with your bloodied hands. "if the gods gave us another chance to live, will you still choose me as your lover?" you said as satoru opened his closed eyes and looked at you.
"satoru, remember when you said that it's like you've known me your whole life?" you asked, looking up at him as you lay your head on his chest. "i think i get it now. it's because we're past lovers, satoru."
"satoru.. it's still me and you, right?" you said as you smiled at him and another chuckle left his glossy lips.
-
you were on your usual night walk when you're suddenly running out of breath. it was like something was blocking your airway, an invisible hand gripping on your neck as you fell on your knees.
were you finally dying? if so you were glad.
you lay your back on the grass below, your heart beating slower and slower as you gaze at the stars.
"this is gonna be my last life, satoru." you said as if he was around to hear your words.
"(name)!" you heard his familiar voice. you've been thinking of him too much to the point that you were hallucinating.
you felt your body being carried as satoru held you on his arms.
"why are you here?" you said, weakly pushing him away.
"i'm sorry, (name). i'm really sorry." he said, biting back a sob as he embraced you.
"what are you talking about." you said.
"i remember it now, fuck, i remember all of it now. i am so sorry. stay with me, okay? i'll take you to the hospital." he said as he carried you.
"there's no need, there's no cure." you said as he stopped on his tracks.
"cure?"
"this is yours." you said, ignoring him as he took the necklace in your hand.
satoru kneeled on the grass as he took the observed the necklace on his hand.
"ah, i want my satoru..please?" he heard you said and his heart ached at your dying sight. he's seen this many times now but why does it hurt more this time?
"i'm here." he whispered.
"you're not him." you know you were being petty. you shouldn't blame him from the curse that was casted upon you.
satoru was startled when you started crying.
"i'm sorry, 'toru." you said as he smiled at you, wiping your tears with his thumb.
"it's fine, i'm sorry i did not recognize you, my queen, my princess, my everything." he said.
"satoru, this will be the last time we'll see each other. be happy."
"last time?" he shake his head as he cupped your cheek. "no, we'll meet again, right?" he said as you softly laughed
"maybe we will, but you'll have to wait million years for that." you said.
"i don't care how long, i will wait for you."
"i'm grateful to have you as my soulmate, satoru."
"what's happening?" satoru said as your hand were slowly disappearing with the wind.
"the curse was lifted now, satoru." you said as you smiled at him.
"t-then that's good! we'll go home together, okay?"
"that would be impossible, plus you have a family now." you said chuckling bitterly as you sigh. "goodbye, until we meet again, mr.gojo satoru."
satoru could only watch as you disappeared with the winds, another universe where he lost you again and yet he wasn't sure if he'll see you again. maybe someday.
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ohtobeleah · 9 months
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California Fornication //
One — ‘That was Jake’
Summary: When the man you’d been seeing turned out to have a wife, your world came crashing down around you. While you tried your best to move onwards and upwards, the very reason for all your recent relationship problems comes strolling into the bar.
Warnings: Mentions of cheating. Love Triangle x2. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin xF!reader. Question ing Morality. Angst.
Word Count: 1.9k
Author Note: Based off the first scene Mark Sloan is in. Greys Anatomy.
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It always plays on repeat in your mind like a slow motion picture, like a scene in one of those old timey movies where everyone and everything slows down so that the main protagonist can understand the situation unfolding around them. 
That moment where your boyfriend of only a few months— Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, told you that he was technically married, haunted you day in and day out. Married to the woman who’d come up to the pair of you in the locker room on base after she’d been transferred to North Island. She’d come waltzing over with a confident smile and a pretty face. She knew she was about to turn your life on its axis. 
For better or worse. 
“Y/n.” It wasn’t often people actually said your name, majority of the same it was your callsign—but the way the colour drained from Bradleys face as he turned to you with a gut wrenching look smeared across his usually perfect face, had your stomach churning. “I’m so sorry—“ 
“Hi, I’m Katie Bradshaw—“ The woman, who mind you, was stunning to say the very least, stuck her hand out to shake yours. You took it gracefully, with enough conviction in your grip to not have it show you were completely blindsided by that all too familiar last name. 
“Bradshaw?” You smiled softly as you sent Rooster a confusing look. He’d never mentioned a sister or a cousin before in the few months you’d been seeing and sleeping together. 
“I’m Rooster's wife—“ Those three words would forever haunt you. “And you must be the woman who’s been screwing my husband?” 
“Hey! Siren!” It was Phoenix’s voice that broke you out of the trance you’d fallen into as you showed. Her fist slamming against the shower door three quick and consecutive times made you jump a little as the warm water encapsulated you entirely. “You coming to the Hard Deck?” 
“Yeah yeah, just give me a few minutes!” You replied as you washed your face. “I’ll meet you guys over there.” It had only been three weeks since you called it quits with the mustache having aviator who had stolen your heart. The entire situation made you feel dirty. Even if you weren’t the one in the wrong. No amount of showering could wash away the dirty feeling you’d been left with. 
What could be worse than being branded the dirty mistress? That no one told you about the cheating scandal that had rocked the Bradshaws' happy marriage about a year ago. That was worse. 
Bradley swore black and blue he was going to tell you. He’d sworn the rest of the squad to secrecy about the details too. He wanted to be the one to tell you. To tell you that you were the first woman he’d been with since he’d walked in on his wife, Katie, and his best friend, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, in bed together. 
Still, the ultimatum was given. You’d asked Bradley to pick you, choose you, love you. But when the time came to decide he chose his wife. His reasonings were none of your business nor concern. 
And so you walked away. Labelled the mistress and the interim love affair. Even against the Chester you didn’t compare—and that crushed you completely. 
“You’ve been doing that an awful lot lately.” Pennys voice broke through the haze you’d fallen into at the bar. The drink you’d ordered, Gin Sour, sat in front of you on a Hard Deck coaster. “What’s on your mind daydreamer?” 
“More like a never ending nightmare Pen.” You sighed before reaching for your drink. “This whole situation makes me feel like I need a lobotomy.” 
“Rooster still trying to force a friendship?” In truth Bradley thought he owed his marriage just one more shot. But right after you walked away he immediately started to regret his decision to choose his wife. He couldn’t stop thinking about you and all that was you. He’d made the wrong decision, but was too proud to admit it. Especially to his wife. 
He stood across the Hard Deck with a beer in his hand and his arm slung around her hip, looking at you like a puppy you’d left out in the rain. He missed you, oh so much. And that fact you hardly spoke to him these days made his heart hurt inside his chest. 
“Yeah—and I don’t think I can handle it anymore.” You admitted before taking a sip of your drink. “I’ve asked for a transfer, just to make it easier. I can’t focus, can’t sleep, because he’s just—always around.” 
“Sounds to me like you’re just running away from your problems.” Penny held her tongue as she watched the tall sandy blonde appear next to you at the bar. “That, or you know that you’re still in love with the guy and no matter what you do he’ll still manage to wiggle his way in because you’ll always allow him to.” It took you a few moments to register what the stranger beside you said as you eyed him up and down. 
“Sensitivity—“ You rolled your eyes. “I like that in a stranger.” The alcohol coursed through your body like a mild painkiller. “Are you new in town?” The civvies were an excellent camouflage against the sea of tans that flooded the Hard Deck—and Penny wasn’t about to be the one who told you the stranger you were talking to was the reason for your current situation. 
“Just visiting—“ He made sure to lie, a little white lie never hurt anyone. Or so they said. But the man beside you with the perfect smile and emerald green eyes definitely wanted to see how far he could get this conversation. “I’m confounded by all the patches and it’s only my first day in town.” He sighed softly as he sat beside you. “Budweiser please Barkeep.” Penny nodded without another word. 
“You get used to it, North Island is a Naval Base after all.” It felt like a needed explanation. The stranger beside you nodded softly as he fished his wallet out of his back pocket. 
“So I’ve heard.” A comfortable silence fell between you and the handsome stranger as he waited for his beer. “Kinda wish I’d stayed in bed, if I had known this place would be crawling with Naval Officers I wouldn’t have bothered.” Oh he knew, he knew all right. 
He knew that the Hard Deck would be packed to the rafters with the Dagger Squad and he certainly knew North Island was a Naval Base. Why? Because he was a part of that designated team. You’d just been the one who replaced him while he was tasked to special ops. Now? He was back to cause chaos. 
“Hey Rooster—“ Fanboy grabbed Bradley’s attention away from Bob. “You see who’s at the bar with Siren?” As Bradley turned his attention back to where he’d known you to be sitting for the better half of the evening, he immediately saw red. A jealousy that rivaled nothing he’d ever felt before consumed him fully, even if his wife was tucked in at his side. 
“We just met and already you’re talking about bed.” You chuckled softly as you took another sip of your drink. Penny had since passed Jake his Budweiser and before you knew it, he was laughing softly beside you. “Not very subtle.” 
“Being subtle was never really my strong suit.” The man beside you replied with a look of all knowing. He knew something you didn’t. If you didn’t know any better you would have asked what that may have been. But you chose to take another sip of your gin. Settletting once again into the comfortable silence that surrounded you and the stranger to your right. 
“So, you ever go out with co-workers?” It stunned you for a second, the forwardness of such a question, but then again—you still didn’t know this guy's name and he was making the heat in your cheeks reach new uncharted heights. 
“I um—“ You tucked some of your hair behind your ear and turned to give the golden skinned, white T wearing man beside you your full attention. Crossing your legs as you did so, so that his knees were on either side of yours. “I make it a rule not to.” His answer sent a shiver down your spin. A good shiver. A shiver that made your core flutter. 
“Then I am so glad that I don’t work here.” Maybe it was the gin talking or maybe it was your recent breakup, but this guy was the very definition of a piece of art. He was gorgeous, an Adonis that surely would have come straight out of accent metrology. 
“Are you hitting on me?” You tried to hide the keen grin that threatened to creep across your slightly heated face, but the sudden attention was giving you an ego boost you desperately needed after being rejected in favour of the cheating wife. 
“Would that be so wrong?” Oh this guy was good. Too good. His infectious smile captivated you in every way it could have. His eyes held a story that was dying to be told. His confidence made you want to lean in and taste it, like hard candy it probably tastes just as sweet as his scent smelled. With notes of Vanilla and warm Bourbon lingering from his neck. 
So you stuck your hand out for him to accept ever so politely. His eyes never left your as you smiled and bit your bottom lip bashfully. 
“I’m Y/n—“ “Lieutenant Y/n Siren Y/l/n.”  “And you are?” Nothing could have prepared you for what happened next. Remember that slow motion we were talking about earlier? Well, the seconds it took Bradley Bradshaw's fist to collide against your handsome mystery man’s cheek, it felt like a century as it played out in painfully slow motion before you. 
His head hit the bar with a thud as beer spilled into your lap. 
“Rooster! Jesus—!” You gasped as you stood and pushed against Bradley’s chest to back him up and away from the man you’d just been talking to. “Fuck! what the hell was that!?” 
Bradley didn’t answer right away as you turned to watch the blond stand with blood dripping down and out of his nose. The two stood there in silence, eyeing each other off as Penny fished out the bar's basic first aid kit. 
“That—“ Bradley huffed as he shook his throbbing hand. His jaw had never been so clenched before. He was furious and full of a rage that burned so deep it could have raised his core temperature by a few degrees. 
His wife stood off to the side looking all kinds of guilty. As did the rest of the Daggers. They knew this was about to get messy. They knew if he was back and already had his target set on you then there was going to be an all out war between the two men who stood ready to run at each other like angry bulls. 
And you, well—you were more concerned about the blood gushing from the nose of your stranger than you were about your ex’s possibly broken hand. But Bradley turned back to you, for a mere second to explain. 
And when he did—you forgot what morals were.
“That was Jake.”
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