Let Me Help (Part 3)

Part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Autistic!Fem!Shy!Reader

Summary: Some friends come to visit

Warnings/tags: Bob is a huge nerd, mention of injury, fluff, mention of forgetting to eat, soft Bradley

***************************************************

There's a knock at the front door.

You're about to get up to go and get it, but then remember your ankle, so you let Bradley go and get it.

"Oh, hey, Bob," he says. "Y/N's in the living-room."

Bob steps in - and stops dead when he sees you.

"I knew it!" he says.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"I knew you were hiding something."

You blush. "Sorry. I shouldn't have hidden it from you."

"It's fine," he says. "But I'm never believing anything you say ever again - about injuries, I mean."

You smile. "I guess I deserve that."

Bob leans forward, lowering his voice. "Uh - I was just wondering - why's Rooster here? And - why does he know your first name?"

"He came to check on me yesterday, my ankle buckled, so he insisted on taking care of me. And - he - asked if we could use first names."

Bob lowers his voice to a whisper. "Phoenix says he likes you."

You stare at him. "He what?"

"He likes you. The others have a bet going to see which of you is going to ask the other out. I - I wasn't really supposed to tell you, but…"

Bradley knocks on the door, and then steps in. "You guys want drinks or anything?"

Oh - yeah, I was supposed to ask Bob that.

"Oh - uh - I'm okay," says Bob. "I already had something to drink."

"How about you, sweetie?" Is it your imagination, or does Bradley's voice go a touch softer when he's speaking to you?

You shake your head. "I'm okay. Thanks."

"Okay. Tell me if you need anything, okay?"

As soon as he's out of the room, Bob turns to you. "Okay - I know I'm not the best at social stuff, but I'm pretty sure he likes you."

"What do you mean?"

Bob stares at you. "Didn't you see the way he looked at you? And the way his voice goes soft when he talks to you?"

You bite your lip. "I thought he was just being nice. Is it - do people know that-" You pause.

"That you like him?" Bob smiles. "Well, Phoenix knows. I don't know about the others, but considering they have a bet going on, I'd say they probably do."

"A bet?" You put your head in your hands. "Oh, wow. How long has this been going on?"

"I have no idea," admits Bob. "I forgot to ask. They all want to come see you, by the way. Make sure you're doing okay."

You stare at him for the second time today. "Really? They actually care?"

Bob nods. "Looks like it."

"I mean, I expected them to be professional, but to actually care…"

A knock at the front door makes both of you jump.

Bob gets up to answer it.

You can hear him and Phoenix talking, but you can't make out what they're saying.

Bob knocks on the living room door. "It's Phoenix," he says, poking his head in. "She wants to see you."

You nod. "Okay."

Phoenix raises her eyebrows when she sees your ankle. "I thought there was something going on!"

You sigh. "Was it obvious?"

"You looked horrified when Mav said we had the afternoon off. And you weren't paying attention at all during training."

"Does that mean it was?"

"Yes." Phoenix sighs. "I wish you'd have told me, C/S. I wouldn't have been so hard on you if I'd known."

She was hard on me? "I deserved it. It was my own fault for not paying attention."

"No." Phoenix steps forward. "Don't do that to yourself. You're a great WSO. Being injured was not your fault."

"I should've looked where I was going."

"It was an accident," says Bob. "You tripped, and fell down the stairs. It happens to everyone."

"You see?" Phoenix says. "Bob doesn't think it's your fault."

Bob sighs. "If anything, it's my fault. I should've dragged her to med bay the minute I found out she'd fallen over."

Phoenix sits down. "So since you're kind of - not walking right now, do you need help with anything?"

"Rooster's taking care of that," says Bob.

Phoenix raises her eyebrows. "Wait, really?"

He nods. "Yeah."

She grins as she turns back to you. "You know he likes you, right?"

You nod. "Bob told me. But - hang on - if he does, then why-"

There's a knock on the living room door.

Bradley pokes his head in. "Oh, hey, Phoenix. I didn't hear you come in."

"Bob let me in," says Phoenix.

Bradley nods. "Y/N, it's getting pretty close to dinner time. Do you want anything to eat?"

You think for a moment. You are getting hungry, but you don't really want to eat in front of other people without offering them something - and you can't really afford that anyway.

So you shake your head. "It's fine."

Bradley raises his eyebrows. "You sure, sweetie? You haven't eaten since this morning."

Your stomach growls, and your face burns. "I - guess I'll have something to eat."

He gives you a reassuring smile. "It's okay. You don't have to eat right now if you don't want to."

"Yeah - I'd rather wait until later - please."

He nods. "That's fine. Tell me if you need anything, okay, honey?"

You nod. "Okay."

Once he's left the room, Phoenix turns sharply to you. "What the - C/S, are you - I swear - how can you not tell he's in love with you?"

You stare at the floor. "I mean - I…"

"You seriously think he calls every girl he's ever met 'honey' and 'sweetie'? He's not Jake!"

"I've only ever seen him at the piano."

"Well, I've seen him flirt with girls. But I've never seen him once call any of them a pet name. Bob?"

Bob, who's been watching Phoenix with fascination, jumps. "Oh! Uh - I don't think so?"

Phoenix turns back to you, a triumphant look on her face. "See?"

"But then why hasn't he made a move?"

"I don't think he knows that you like him," says Bob. "Or maybe he doesn't want to scare you. I don't know, I'm not very good at - this…"

"Bob's right," says Phoenix softly. "I don't think he knows."

You frown. "How? I thought it was so obvious."

***************************************************

Upstairs, Bradley's trying to focus on his phone, but he just can't. He's got too much to think about.

For one thing, he has to decide when to leave your place, and let you get on with your life. It's not that he doesn't like taking care of you. He does, but he knows more than you how weird other people are going to think it is that you two are living together when you're not dating. And he knows you're too shy to tell him when to leave.

It doesn't help that he's fully aware of the bet that the others have going on for which of you is going to ask the other out first, and while he doesn't know whether to be annoyed or amused, he knows who's behind it.

Maverick.

Ever since he got with Penny after the mission, he's had a lot of spare time on his hands - time that Bradley thinks could be better used not trying to get him a girlfriend.

It's not that Bradley doesn't have feelings for you. He does. But he knows how shy you are, and he doesn't want to scare you away. He knows how loud he can be, and that he can sometimes accidentally overpower some of the quieter people in the squad, and he would never want you to force feelings you might not have.

As he turns his attention back to his phone, his eyebrows shoot up when he notices that it's ages past dinner time, and that you still haven't had anything to eat. Jumping up from the bed, he goes downstairs.

***************************************************

You're still confused about the whole thing, despite Phoenix and Bob explaining it multiple times. It's like your brain's just refusing to process what's happening. "So, Bradley likes me, but he doesn't know I like him, and so we're stuck in this loop of will-they-won't-they kind of thing?"

Phoenix is about to respond when there's a knock at the door.

"Sweetheart?" Bradley pokes his head in.

Your heart leaps into your throat. Did he hear?

"Rooster, why don't you come socialise?" asks Phoenix.

He smiles. "You sure I won't be intruding?"

You blush as you realise that Bradley probably wants to talk to Phoenix and Bob too. Why didn't I tell him he could stay?

"It's okay," says Bradley. "I had some stuff I needed to get done. I just want to make sure you get something to eat, sweetie. It's past dinner, and you haven't eaten since this morning."

You pause for a moment. "Oh. That's why my stomach feels weird." You pause again, thinking. "I - do you guys want anything? M-maybe takeout or something? I don't think I have anything in that you'd want, and I feel like it'd be rude for me to eat and not offer you anything. You'd - have to - pay for your own food, though…"

Bob's face lights up. "Yeah, that sounds great!"

"If you're sure," says Phoenix, but she looks just as pleased as Bob.

"I don't know, maybe we could put a movie on too?" you add, feeling a little braver.

Bob grins. "Can we watch Lord of the Rings?"

You glance at Phoenix, who looks slightly unsure. "Have you ever seen it?"

Phoenix shakes her head. "No."

Bob stares at her like she's crazy. "You've never seen Lord of the Rings? How is that even possible?"

Phoenix laughs, and holds her hands up. "I've seen The Hobbit, okay?"

Bob's not impressed. "Lord of the Rings is way better. You have to watch it."

"It's a trilogy, right?"

Oh, no. You can't stop yourself from grinning as Bob takes a deep breath.

"First of all, it's not a trilogy, it's one continuing story, and it was split into three parts because of printing costs. And technically, there are six books, because each part is split into two. But there are three movies."

Bradley chuckles. "I guess we know what we're watching tonight, then. If it's okay with you, of course," he adds hastily, looking at you.

You smile. "Yeah. It's fine. I was wanting to watch it sometime anyway, and I do owe Bob a Lord of the Rings marathon."

Bob's eyes light up again. "We're doing it tonight?"

You look at Bradley and Phoenix to try and gauge their reactions. "Uh… I mean, I'm up for it."

Phoenix shrugs. "I'm in."

"Same," says Bradley, smiling.

"Yes!" shouts Bob, making everyone jump. He blushes. "I - I'll go set up the - TV."

"I'll order the food," says Phoenix. "Everyone make a list of what they want, and transfer me the money."

Once you've all decided on which place to order from, and made your lists, Phoenix steps out to make the call. Bob's still fiddling with the TV, trying to get the sound and lighting just right.

Bradley tucks a blanket around you, making sure you're comfortable. "You need another blanket or anything, you just tell me, okay, sweetheart?"

You nod, blushing. "Okay."

Phoenix steps back into the room. "Okay. Food is ordered, and it'll be here in a bit. You need any help with the TV, Bob?"

Bob shakes his head. "It's all good. Just don't touch anything."

Phoenix and Bob sit on your other sofa, and Bradley settles himself next to you on the sofa.

"You sure you're comfy?" he asks.

You nod.

"Okay. But if you start getting uncomfortable, or cold, or something during the movie, just tell me, okay?"

You smile, and nod. "Okay."

There's a knock on the door, and Phoenix gets up to answer.

"Hey, Bob?" she calls. "Can I have a little help bringing this in?"

Once they've brought all the food in, and divided it, Bob turns the lights off, and presses play.

Smiling, you snuggle into your blanket. This is going to be great.

***************************************************

As always, I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work, repost it, etc.

Maybe Things Are Looking Up

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Shy!Autistic!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your friend sets you up on yet another blind date, much to your annoyance.

Warnings/tags: Soft Bradley, age gap (reader is in their 20s), mentions of autism, implied sensory issues, Bradley being an absolute sweetheart, one implication of sex (blink and you miss it), mention of crying, lots of fluff, a bit of angst, implied low self-esteem (I think?), super self-indulgent, mentions of throwing up, mention of injuries (nobody gets hurt), one mention of dieting

A/N: I feel like I'm having way too much fun writing for soft Bradley. (Sorry, the writing's probably kind of clunky.)

***************************************************

A knock on the door makes you nearly jump out of your skin.

He's here.

Your heart is pounding as you take one last look in the mirror. You can't say you're impressed with what you see, but at least you look presentable.

It's very difficult to not trip as you rush down the stairs, already regretting wearing heels. They're very uncomfortable, and your balance isn't the best, so you normally opt for flats, but you want to make a decent impression.

For a moment, you consider hiding, saying you're sick, allowing yourself to break your ankle on these ridiculous heels.

Anything but go on this date.

Why, oh, why did Callie have to set me up with one of her pilot friends? you wonder, as you fumble around for your keys. Why does she even feel the need to set me up at all? I've told her time and time again that I'm resigned to the fact that I will be single for most of my adult life.

It takes you much longer than normal to unlock the door, mainly because your hands are shaking so badly that you can barely get the key in.

But once the door's finally open, you stare in shock at the man before you.

After all, it's not every day you see a guy with an 80s mustache, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and aviator sunglasses at your front door.

He should look absolutely ridiculous.

But he doesn't. Quite the opposite, in fact. He's very, very attractive. Unfairly so, you think.

Especially considering you're suddenly acutely aware that the colour on your dress doesn't really suit you, and neither does the style. You knew it didn't suit you when you picked it out, but you just pulled it on anyway in an act of rebellion, mainly because you didn't want to make a good impression.

Something you're sorely regretting, especially because you now feel extremely unattractive.

"Hey," he says. "Y/N, right?"

You nod, your mouth suddenly too dry to speak.

He holds out a hand. "I'm Bradley."

Why's he holding his hand out? You take it anyway, forcing a smile.

"You ready?" Bradley asks.

You nod.

He's surprisingly courteous, letting you hold onto his arm as he walks you to his car, and helping you in before getting in the other side.

"So, any ideas where you'd like to go?" he asks.

Oh, no. Your chest clenches with fear, and you shake your head, hoping you're not doing it too vigorously.

"How about the restaurant near the bar?" he suggests. "I've never been there, but I heard it's a nice place."

You nod, desperately hoping that he won't get mad at you for not speaking.

The rest of the drive is silent.

After he's parked the car, he turns to you. "These doors are a little tricky when you're not used to them. I'll get yours for you."

"Okay," you whisper. It's the first thing you've said all evening.

Once Bradley's helped you out, and locked the car, he offers you his arm.

"The restaurant's usually a little busy this time of day," he explains. "Callie'd never forgive me if I lost you on our first date."

You just nod as you take his arm, feeling more and more shy by the minute. You can tell that Bradley's trying to put you at ease, but you've already worked yourself up so much that you don't even know if it's possible for you to calm down.

***************************************************

Fortunately, you're seated very quickly. You have a feeling that it might have something to do with Bradley being so familiar with the staff, but you brush it off. He's probably just a friendly person.

Still, you're not complaining about being off your feet. Those heels were definitely a mistake.

"Do you want a menu, Y/N?" asks Bradley.

You almost jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice, and then nod, your face burning.

"Here." His hand brushes yours as he hands you one.

You manage a small smile as you take it.

You're not very hopeful as you read down the menu. While they look nice, none of the main courses sounds like something you'd eat. Normally, if you were out with a friend or your family, and you ran into a situation like this, you'd order off the children's menu, but you're too scared to here, in case Bradley thinks you're weird, or makes fun of you for it.

"So, what are you thinking?" asks Bradley.

You look up, wishing your throat wouldn't clench so. Hoping he won't think you're rude, you show him what you're ordering. Fortunately, some of the sides look okay, so you've decided to order a couple of them in lieu of a main.

"You sure that's all you want?" he asks. "You don't want a main?"

You nod.

Bradley leans forward, lowering his voice. "You know, if there's nothing you like, we can just go to another restaurant."

You shake your head. Tears begin pricking at your eyes as you try to find the words to explain, almost wishing he'd just snap at you. For some reason, his kindness is making you feel much worse than if he got annoyed, or yelled at you.

It takes some time, but you manage to push past the barrier between your brain and vocal cords. "It's - it's not that I don't like anything, I just - I'd prefer to order off the children's menu. It's just - more familiar territory."

"Hey, that's okay," says Bradley gently. "Was that all you were worried about?"

Not exactly. But you nod anyway.

"I don't mind you ordering off the kids' menu, and I'm not gonna make fun of you for it, okay? I just want to make sure you have a good time."

You manage a small smile. "That's - very kind of you."

Bradley smiles. "It's nothing."

As the server comes over to take your order, your nerves suddenly increase tenfold. You've always hated having to speak to order, but you've never really felt comfortable typing an order out and just showing it to the server, either.

"Hi, can I take your order?"

You don't even hear Bradley tell the server his order, because you're trying to plan out what you're going to say - and try and stir up the courage to actually say it.

Then you feel a hand on your arm, and your face burns as you realise that you haven't even acknowledged the server, and have in fact been staring into space for some time.

"Do you want me to order for you?" Bradley's voice is very soft, whether to try and calm you, or to save you from any more embarrassment, you're not quite sure.

You nod, feeling horribly guilty at ignoring the server, but not really knowing what to say.

But you do apologise to Bradley once the server's gone. "Sorry. I didn't mean to - sorry…"

"It's okay." Bradley's voice is still very soft. "You're nervous, I get it. You don't have to be sorry."

"But I embarrassed you."

Bradley shakes his head. "You didn't. And even if you had, I promise you I've been in worse situations."

"Like what?" You regret the words the second they come out of your mouth. Don't ask him about embarrassing situations, you idiot!

But, judging by the grin on his face, Bradley doesn't seem to mind.

"Well, there was this one time at The Hard Deck…"

At first, you're not really listening, mostly because you're still trying to shake off your embarrassment, but you soon get drawn in to the story, and by the time Bradley finishes, you're feeling much more at ease.

"Okay, here are your meals."

You feel yet another stab of fear. What if I make a mess? What if the texture of the food makes me throw up everywhere?

But you manage a small smile as the server hands you your meal.

You're both silent as you eat, you because you're trying not to spill everywhere, and Bradley - well, you're not really sure. Maybe he's not the type to talk while eating.

But then why did he suggest a restaurant for our date?

Fortunately, Bradley seems to understand that you're nervous, and doesn't push you to speak too much. You do notice him glancing at you several times, and you feel guilty for not being more chatty, but it feels like there's a massive barrier between your brain and your vocal cords, one that you just can't face pushing through.

"How's your dinner?" he asks.

You look up. "It's good, I guess."

He raises his eyebrows. "You sure?"

You nod. "Um - how's yours?"

He smiles. "It's good. What're you thinking for dessert?"

Oh, no.

It's not that you don't like sweet things. Or that you're dieting. You just don't want to risk making yet another mess. You've already dropped some food onto the floor, and you only just managed to fight your gag reflex when you accidentally chewed a piece of food too long.

"Um, I'm kind of full."

"Yeah, me too. They're pretty generous with the portions here." He must have noticed that you're feeling uncomfortable, because he adds softly, "Do you want to leave?"

You nod.

"Okay."

After he's signalled to the server that you're ready to pay, Bradley tells you that he's going to pay.

You don't feel entirely comfortable with him paying the entire bill, but before you can protest, he's already paid.

You wobble as you stand up, and Bradley hastily takes hold of your arm before you can fall.

"I'm never wearing heels again," you mumble.

He just smiles. "You're not used to them, I take it?"

You shake your head. "I don't really go out much. In fancy stuff, I mean." Or at all.

Just like on the way there, you're silent on the way back.

You've got a horrible feeling that you messed up, and now Bradley's angry with you. What if he wanted dessert? What if he wanted to stay longer? What if-

Before you know it, Bradley's pulling up outside your house.

"I'll get your door for you," he tells you.

As Bradley goes to get out of the car, you stop him.

"Um - look, I'm sorry I wasn't very chatty this evening. I just - sorry…"

"That's okay," he replies. "It's not your fault for being shy."

You shake your head. "I'm not just shy. I'm - look, I know I've been difficult pretty much the entire evening. And - I wish I could do something about it, but I can't, and-"

"Hey, what's all this about?" Bradley looks genuinely puzzled. "You weren't difficult."

"I was."

"How?"

You feel tears welling up, and you desperately try to force them back. "I didn't talk for most of the evening, I was messy with my food, and I was rude to a server. And now I've ruined your evening. I'm - I'm sorry."

Bradley doesn't reply immediately, and for one horrible moment, you wonder if he's angry with you.

You don't even realise you're picking at your hands, until Bradley takes your hands in his.

"Y/N," he begins softly. "You don't have to look at me, but please hear me out. You were not being difficult. That incident with the server was not your fault. If anything, it's on me. I should've made sure you were ready to order before the server came over."

You feel a couple of tears roll down your cheeks, whether from relief or something else, you're not really sure.

Bradley gently brushes them away. "I know you didn't talk much, but - I don't mind that. I know not everybody's a talker, and I'm fine with you using other ways to communicate if that makes you feel more comfortable. And I certainly don't mind if you're a messy eater. You don't have to look perfect, okay?"

You suddenly feel light, like a heavy weight's just been lifted off your shoulders. He's not mad?

"But it can't have been a fun evening for you."

Bradley's eyebrows pinch together. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know, I just-" You pause, taking a breath. "I just - I feel like I have this bad effect on people - like I just jinx a night out and make it awkward and horrible when it doesn't have to be, because I'm just so socially inept."

"Oh, sweetheart. How often do you feel like that?"

You hang your head, trying hard to hide your tears. "Every day."

"I'm sorry. It must be hard."

You nod, almost wishing he wouldn't be so nice about it. It's hard enough trying to keep yourself together around people who don't really care, but it's nearly impossible around someone who does.

"Do you ever feel like that with Callie?" asks Bradley.

You shake your head. "She's the exception. We've known each other all our lives, so…"

"That's good."

You're both silent for a while. Bradley's started gently tracing patterns on your hands, which you're actually enjoying the feeling of.

"You know," he says, "tonight wasn't too bad."

"You think so?"

He smiles. "Yeah. I enjoyed your company. If it's okay with you, I'd like us to meet up again some time."

"For a date?"

"Only if you're comfortable with that."

You manage a small smile. "Okay. I - I'd like that. But - can we not do it in public?"

"Of course." Bradley gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "If that's going to make you feel more comfortable, then I'm fine with it."

You nod. "Thanks. You're - you're very kind."

"I try." He goes to open his door, but then stops. "You okay walking in those?"

That's when you suddenly remember you're wearing heels. Blushing, you shake your head. "I'll probably fall over."

"You want me to carry you?"

You shake your head again. "I'll just take them off."

He frowns. "I noticed some broken glass on the ground earlier. I don't want you stepping on it and hurting yourself."

Despite yourself, you giggle. "I guess you'll have to carry me, then." Not that I'm complaining.

Bradley just smiles and pats your arm, before getting out. "I'll get your door for you."

While he's going around the car to open your door, you arrange your handbag in your lap so that you'll be able to reach your keys easily. You haven't been carried in a long time, so you're a little nervous about how it might feel.

Bradley must have noticed that you're nervous, because he's very gentle as he lifts you, and makes sure you're completely comfortable before he starts walking. You're surprised at how easily he carries you, like you weigh nothing - and how safe you feel in his arms.

He doesn't seem to want to let you go. Even once he's right outside your front door, he still doesn't set you down.

"Um - I should be okay from here," you begin, rather nervously.

"I know," says Bradley. "But I was actually thinking it might be safer if I get you settled on your sofa, so you can get those shoes off, before you start walking. I don't have to if you're not comfortable with me being in your house, though."

That actually makes sense. "No, that's - that's fine."

It only seems to take a few seconds before Bradley has you in your house, and settled on the sofa. You take your shoes off with a sigh of relief.

"I am never wearing heels again."

Bradley chuckles. "You really hate those shoes, huh?"

You smile. "I guess so. I would get rid of them, but someone bought them for me, so it just wouldn't feel right to give them away, you know?"

"Yeah. I get that."

You stand up. "Um - Bradley?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you. For being so kind."

He shakes his head. "It's nothing. I'm just glad you had a good time."

You nod, suddenly feeling rather shy. "Yeah. Um - see you."

Bradley smiles. "See you around."

Once he's gone, and you've locked the door, you go upstairs, and collapse on your bed with a sigh.

Can I be bothered to change into my pajamas?

You're replied by the seam digging into your back. Yes, I can.

***************************************************

Once you're back in bed, you curl up, preparing to do some scrolling. It's been a long day, and you need some headspace.

It's a relief to be back in your normal clothes once again. That dress was not very comfortable.

Your phone buzzes.

It's a message from Callie.

You home yet?

You type a reply. Yes.

How'd it go?

You pause, thinking out an answer. Was okay. Bradley was really nice. He offered to take me out again.

Take him up on it.

I already did.

Good. You know, I thought you'd get on well. He's a bit more mature than the guys our age.

You frown. How old is he?

He's in his thirties, I think.

Your heart nearly jumps out of your chest. Thirties?! Callie! Why didn't you tell me?

I did.

I didn't see it.

You hastily scroll back through your messages.

Oh, nevermind. You did. Sorry.

Told you. And he's not ancient, Y/N. He's in his early thirties.

But - his thirties! I'm practically a kid compared to him!

You're not. I'm the same age as you, I'm friends with him, and you're more mature than me.

I guess we are both adults. But still… Did you tell him?

Tell him what?

That I'm younger than him.

Of course. And he's a good guy, Y/N. He'd have never asked you out on a second date if he wasn't comfortable with the age gap.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Good to know. Oh, we're still meeting up for drinks on Tuesday, right?

Yep.

Okay. Bye.

Byee.

Well, that was unexpected, you think, putting your phone aside.

But you don't really mind the age gap. So long as Bradley's okay with it - which he seems to be - then you are, too.

Plus, it would explain why you actually enjoyed tonight. You've been on dates before with guys your age, but you've never really enjoyed them.

For one thing, none of them have ever been as nice as Bradley, and for another, they've always wanted you to come back to their place…

Another message from Callie pops up.

Oh, hey, forgot to tell you I gave Bradley your number.

You groan. Callie is enjoying herself way too much.

He said he'd message you tomorrow.

Why tomorrow?

There's a bit of a pause before Callie replies.

He says he noticed you were tired out, and he doesn't want to bother you until you've rested.

You feel your throat getting a little tight. That's so sweet.

Told you he was nice. I'm telling you, Y/N, he's a keeper.

Callie, we've only been on one date - and even that wasn't really a date.

Close enough.

You grin. I'm going to bed now. See you Tuesday.

Byee.

Putting your phone on silent, and setting it aside, you roll over, grinning like an idiot.

Maybe things are starting to look up.

************************************************

As always, I do not give permission for anyone to copy my work, repost it elsewhere, etc.

Bruce Banner Appreciation Day!

It'll be on December 18, which is Bruce's canonical birthday in the MCU (but this is open to Bruce fans of all media) and we'll be celebrating with fanworks! Art, writing, GIFs, you name it.

There's really no rules besides creating something Bruce-centric and you can definiely include friends, family, ships, etc. On December 18, post your creation and tag it #bruce banner appreciation day.

💜 Please spread the word! 💚

52 notes View Post

passionatefanficgirl

3 months ago

When I was younger, I obsessed over the idea of being a published writer more than I actually wrote. I wanted to be good at it, and I knew that I wasn’t.

In my imaginings of the future, I pictured myself as a seasoned author with a stack of written works resting on a desk, my hand resting lightly atop the tower, as if to say, “look at the breadth of my skill! I believe I have achieved enough. My work is complete; my hand need never pick up the pen again.”

Looking back, I wonder why I painted that picture in my head, a static image that seldom changed. Never did I imagine myself writing in a busy cafe or scribbling poetry under lamplight. I never saw myself writing the books; they just materialized, in all their hardback, small-font glory under my outstretched hand.

This image perverted my love of well-written stories. Whenever I brought my pen to a blank page, I could only write what I thought “novelists” wrote about. Without any passion or truth behind my words, they felt lifeless and empty. Not content with the idea that something I wrote wouldn’t be consumed by an audience, I often chose to write nothing at all.

I hadn’t yet learned that writing is a process of self-discovery. It is a means of trying to understand a chaotic world. And now, it is not something to accomplish; it is who I am.

I am a writer.

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passionatefanficgirl

4 months ago

THIS THIS THIS!

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passionatefanficgirl

7 months ago

reblog if you’re a writer who feels guilt whenever they’re not writing and being productive, so I know I’m not the only one lol

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passionatefanficgirl

7 months ago

Writing tips for ya

(Part one?) writer block

I’ve found a way that works for me personally that makes writers block nonexistent.

So, I start by writing my first 5 or so chapters, or until you get stuck. ( this is the point we’re you will get writers block)

Instead of attempt to write more I want you to go back and edit those 5 or so chapters. This makes it so you don’t have writers block anymore (gives you new inspiration and reminds you of things you added in earlier) and it will make it so you can write 5 more chapters.

Instead of editing only the 5 new chapters edit the whole thing again.

It will looks something like this

Write 5, edit, write 5 more edit 1-10 write 5 more edit 1-15. Once you hit 15 you can edit 15-20 then 15-25 until you hit another 15 mark. Like 30. Then it will be 30-35 and so on.

Also it won’t always been in sets of 5 I just happen to get stuck around that mark it can look like, write 8 edit those 8 then write 3 and edit all 11.

This also helps so you can make things connect together, so you don’t forget what’s happening, and add in those tiny details that you hope one day will be noticed by someone!

Welp that’s about all I have at the moment. But please tell me if it works for you! I would also really like to hear other problems you’re having as a writer so I can include those in another post.

Happy writing

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passionatefanficgirl

3 months ago

Trying to write fanfiction for the first time is so humbling, it feels like I've never written anything ever.

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passionatefanficgirl

7 months ago

ao3 turns 15 today

reblog if youre older than ao3

(there's a lot of people asking about this, but the legal age to use social media is 13, except in few countries. so yes, there are people here under 15)

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passionatefanficgirl

2 months ago

Writers on a random Tuesday: Sits down, locks in, giggles, writes 10k, does not sleep

Also writers on a random Tuesday: writes one sentence and then stares into the abyss for five fours

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passionatefanficgirl

11 months ago

Masterpost

I do not give permission for my work to be published without my approval. If you see my work published under another name, that means someone stole it. (That should really go without saying, but…)

Please be gentle, I’m pretty new to the whole fanfiction posting game. In other words, if you have something mean to say, don’t say it or I will block you.

Fem!Shy!Reader for Y/N fics unless otherwise specified

I will not write smut, I will mostly write fluff and comedy. You can ask for angst if you want, but I will usually make it pretty mild, and write a happy ending for it.

Sorry to anyone who supports popular ships like Dramione and Hangster, I do not write for those or any other ships, I only write ships that are either established in canon (ones that I like, e.g. I will write for Goose x Carole, but not for Upstead), or are between a canon character and an OC or the reader. (There might be a few exceptions, but the ship will then be listed on the fanfic warnings. I also might write comedy for Wolfstar and Ben Daniels & Yassen if you ask nicely!)

All ages welcome, but I mostly post from a younger person (aka under 30s) point of view.

Pretty much all my fics will have some a lot of self-indulgent fluff in, you have been warned.

The character names I have in the masterlist are the ones I write ReaderxCharacter fics for, I will sometimes write a fanfiction for one of the fandoms listed that does not have the reader as a character.

Characters that have their names in italics are OCs from another fanfic (published or not) of the fandom the character is listed under that I think would be good to write a ReaderxCharacter fic about (if you think an unlisted OC would be good on the list, request by all means). There are some quick character summaries you can read to get a picture of them before you request any fics.

Fandoms and Characters I write for (this is a masterlist, and it will grow, I promise!):