Name's Riley/26/Bi/Genderfluid/INFP/Lover of books and movies, specifically all things Top Gun/Aspiring writer|ao3: miraculous_madhatter
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It's April 30th!
REMEMBER TO LEAVE MILK AND COOKIES OUT FOR JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE TONIGHT!
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Red "brick shit house" Hood Jason Todd: Anyone under 5'7 shouldn't be talking about fighting anyone. Like what are you gonna do? Head-butt them in the chest?
Arkham "Short king" Knight Jason: Say good-bye to your knee-caps motherfucker'
credits :@awkwardknight for the coming up with that hilarious tag
[source]
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Idk if I saw it somewhere or just imagined it, but i'm certain that i saw that somebody once had the headcanon that Tim's family is from Russia, and it altered my brain chemistry so much that whenever I hear or talk on russian I have to think about him
#there's something about the batboys speaking different languages that just#it scratches my brain in just the right spot ya know?#like when i first started reading batfam fics#i read a lot of fics that had dick speaking romanian#and ive read a lot of recent ones where jason speaks italian#and the obvious one: damian speaking arabic#i just love the idea of the batboys knowing other languages#and those languages being part of their daily lives no matter how big or small#batfamily
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he will use every chance he gets to be a drama queen and if he doesnt have one he will create one
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that one picture doing the rounds
Something something, different first meeting, enemies to lovers, modern au, something something
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👀👀👀
FJAKLFJAWLKFJA;FLAOJW I did nine sentences THIS ONE TIME but I am instating a rule from here on out that no matter how many emoticons you send I will only promise three sentences LOL
That said, I filled in a spot that needed a connection in the below. Including more than the sentences I wrote for context, but what I wrote's in bold.
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Mav’s lips quirked up in spite of himself. “What’re gonna do, old timer, lift me?”
Ice paused, eyes narrowing.
…Shit, Maverick thought, as Ice bent down all at once and slid his arms under Maverick’s legs, his arm behind Maverick’s back. “Wait,” he said, but it was too late. Ice bent at the knees and lifted, visibly straining under Maverick’s weight. Maverick threw his free arm around Ice’s shoulders in panic as Ice took two tottering steps back and more or less collapsed on the couch.
Maverick grunted, pain searing through him. Underneath him, Ice gasped as Maverick’s full weight crushed him, and then he started to cough.
“Fuck,” Maverick said, and tried squirming off Ice’s chest. “You fucking lunatic—”
Ice gasped, and then started laughing in between coughs.
“Why are you like this,” Maverick said, as he clumsily landed beside Ice, legs tangled up, and pinwheeled his good arm in an attempt to not faceplant directly into the couch.
“Ow,” Ice gasped, but reached out to steady Maverick anyway, still losing it in between deep, hacking coughs shaking his whole frame.
“Are you kidding me, are you complaining about—fuck, Ice, come on, breathe,” Maverick said, giving up and reaching over to rub Ice’s back. Slowly, the coughing subsided, leaving behind Ice half collapsed on Maverick and still snickering.
“People think I’m the reckless one,” Maverick complained, still rubbing Ice’s back. “Can’t believe you fucking did that. I’m telling your doctor.”
Slowly, Ice’s breathing settled into the current normal—wheezing and labored but steady. “Tattle-tale,” he got out, slumped into Maverick’s shoulder.
“I’m also going to tell your doctor about the talking now,” Maverick said—and Ice huffed, but did visibly decide not to respond. Good, Maverick didn’t actually want to call up Ice’s doctor. Frankly, he was scared of her, the same way every single member of Ice’s family or immediate friend group justifiably feared Dr. Kealey more than they feared God Himself. It was actually kind of impressive of her. Maverick had always been impressed.
Silence settled around them like an old friend, only cut by the sound of their breathing and the ticking of the clock. Maverick entertained himself by counting them for a bit, until he could feel the nightmare starting to eat at his thoughts again, slow and insidious—
“Alright, what do you wanna watch?” he said, interrupting his own thoughts, and then realized his mistake as Ice opened his mouth. “No,” he interjected quickly. “Shut up. No talking. Hand me the remote.”
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👀 👀 👀?
...so I said I'd promise three sentences. I didn't say I WOULDN'T write more than three sentences, just that only three sentences are promised--
Anyway. A bit further down in the scene I just posted.
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Ice rolled his eyes, but he did hand Maverick the remote, so Maverick decided not to let it slide. He fumbled the remote until he could prop it up and get to it with his splinted fingers, turned on Ice’s old—if flat screen—tv, and pulled up the channel guide. “It’s so fucking annoying that you can’t have a Smart TV,” he grumbled, flipping through the channels looking for HBO.
Ice shrugged. “Don’t—watch—much TV.”
“Yeah, but it’s the principle,” Maverick said. “You pay for all this shit and you can’t even use it.”
Ice grumbled, shifting a little bit so that Maverick settled a bit more firmly against Ice’s shoulder. Maverick paused as he finally made it to Showtime, scrolling through the available options critically. “Well, there’s an old action movie,” he said. “This is the one with the spy who keeps getting hunted by his own agency or something, right?”
“Yeah,” Ice rasped. “The one that—looks like you. But—more—plastic surgery.”
Maverick squinted at the television. On screen, the main spy guy was pulling on some sort of glove with glowing lights on the back. “I don’t really see it,” he admitted.
Ice patted his hand. Together, they watched the spy climb out the window and proceed to scale the building with the power of the light up gloves.
“Hey, that’s cool, though,” Maverick said.
“Sh,” Ice said, from where he was still pressed all along Maverick’s side. “Movie.”
“I’m not sure why you keep trying to shut me up during movies,” Maverick said, as one of the spy’s fancy gloves very predictably stopped working. “We’ve known each other for over thirty years. You’d think you’d be resigned by now.”
“Mav,” Ice said, and jostled him a bit—a spike of pain when through Maverick’s whole shoulder.
“Ow,” Maverick said. “Asshole. I’m healing from a fractured spine—”
“Sh,” Ice said again.
Maverick grinned, but did shut up—just in time to watch spy guy shatter the window and go catapulting into the room just as the second glove died.
They fell asleep like that—leaning against each other on the couch, Maverick mostly stretched out and squashing Ice into a corner, watching Mr. spy-who-looked-like-Maverick-with-plastic-surgery make questionable decisions to save the world.
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👀
🫡 New sentences in bold, as promised! This bit's from later in the fic ;)
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“So, what, that’s it?” Maverick asked.
Bradley blinked. “Uh. Yeah?”
No. Maverick took a deep breath, suddenly furious. “I can’t believe this.”
“You—hey, listen,” Bradley said, starting to frown. “It’s not actually your decision what I do in my relationships, Mav—”
“No, listen to me,” Maverick snapped. “You can’t let this go!”
“I’m pretty sure I can, really—”
Maverick laughed. “You think that,” he said, “but it’s a mistake, Bradley.”
“Mav—”
No, Maverick thought. Not this time. He was done holding his tongue because he’d fucked up Bradley’s life enough. This time he was going to say something. He barrelled on. “You think you can just—wait, or live without, or you have time, or… I don’t know, any number of bullshit things, but none of it’s true,” he said. “It’s not true. You’re going to get older, Bradley, and so is he, and you’re both going to start slowing down, and time’s just going to run out. And you’ll have just missed him.”
“I—”
“You’ll blink one day,” Maverick said, “and he’ll be engaged to a woman he met while you were in the air, there’ll be—be two-point-five kids on the way and he’ll be leaving the goddamn sky so he can go after stars on his shoulders instead, and you’ll be sitting there alone wondering why you never fucking did anything. And that doesn’t go away, Bradley, it just goes on and on and on for years—”
“Huh,” Bradley said.
“What do you mean, ‘huh’?” Maverick snapped. “This isn’t something to take lightly, Bradley, this is your life—”
“Is it?” Bradley asked. He sounded… curious. Not upset. It was probably that, honestly, that stopped Maverick from panicking as Bradley continued with, “I’m not sure you’re talking about me at all right now, actually.”
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Ice: Every body know what they're doing?
Mav: In general or the plan?
Ice: The plan.
Mav: *Relieved sigh*
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Ice: What are you thinking about?
Mav: How long i'd survive if you suffocated me with a pillow.
Ice: What's wrong with you?
Mav: Do you want a list?
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stranger tweets part 8
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 5.5] [part 6] [part 7]
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you ever think about that moment, in the breath after Steve and Eddies first kiss, how they'd look at each other and that moment of shock and "holy shit, we just did that", the flush in their faces and the blank minds with stars in their eyes
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Tumblr Top Ships Bracket - Round 2 Side 2
This poll is a celebration of fandom and fandom history; we're aware that there are certain issues with many of the listed pairings and sources, but they are a part of that history. Please do not take this as an endorsement, and refrain from harassment.
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bro u knocked over his drink
read this fic that goes with this art!!
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