#April formally meets him first
Text
Feeder 86: The Top Ten
Can you believe that the Feeder86 ‘Orginal Gainer Stories’ blog will soon be posting the two hundredth story? I thought of many ways to celebrate. But then I stopped and realised that I would probably be best using the time to address one of the questions I get asked about most frequently. Which of the stories do I personally like the most?
This was not an easy list to make as I very rarely go back to re-read my own work after I have finished editing and posting them. This is not because I do not like them, but because I always see bits that I want to change. Nevertheless, this project was the perfect opportunity to revisit a few oldies that I remember being very proud of at the time.
Hopefully you will see this list for what it is: a glimpse into how I write, my motivations and drive; rather than just a self indulgent pat on the back for myself. Yuck!
So, with that being said, let us begin...
#10 The Feeders’ Formula: This tale certainly had to be placed into the list. After all, it is the one that kicked off ‘Original Gainer Stories’ all those years ago. There are many amazing examples of instant body weight transformation stories out there. I felt that I needed to write this one as my contribution to the genre. It went down well at the time. I swiftly wrote a Part Two, then followed it up with others (The Feeders’ Formation, The Feeders’ Formalities, The Feeders’ Foreclosure, The Feeders’ Forecast, The Feeders’ Former Years), becoming something of an ongoing saga in recent years; focusing on the different Feeders from that very first meeting. As a writer who sometimes struggles to find the ending, these are wonderful to write as they all have the same inevitable conclusion. There is also so much freedom to be had when you’re working with characters who are pretty much pure evil. I know so much more about the Feeders than I’ve ever written down, so it is great to tease out those little details with each new installment. The newest of these tales (The Feeders’ Foreplay) was the darkest yet, but seems to have provoked a very favourable reaction from many. Who knows what the Feeders may get up to next? I do! And you can find out too, once we start a whole new sweeps season of stories this April! Come with me into The Feeders' Fortress!
#9 Only One: Where do I start? Only One has my absolute favourite type of feeder. Ben is big, sexy and very in control. He’s one of those rare types of guys who always stays on top and is a step ahead of absoultely everyone he meets. Who wouldn’t fall for him? I certainly did! In fact, I loved him so much that I wrote an entire prequel for him (and none of you even noticed!) Check out Rewire if you want to see how Ben became the man we know and love.
#8 The Wright Boys: The idea of a weight gain that cannot be stopped or controlled is a tempting one for many. How much easier would it be if you didn’t have to second guess your choices or face the pressure to lose weight? This was the first tale of what I see as ‘The Curses’ saga that eventually bled into many other stories (including another one on this list!) and culminated in Wright vs Beckett. However, this story remains my personal favourite of these. If you’re a fan of looking for crossovers between my stories, these are some of the most explicitly linked. I followed it up with a spin-off tale (The Wright Boys: DNA), but continue to have ideas about how I could go back to these boys in the future. Watch this space.
#7 Making Monsters: The title of this story really does give away how I felt about it at the time. This is quite the saga, spread over into not just two, but three parts! It began as a story that was very similar to Blackmailed; a tale that I had written previously about a guy voyeristically enjoying seeing his friend fatten up her boyfriend. However, this story evolved even further for me, with Tommy’s love of eating and gaining weight being both his greatest love, and his biggest shame. His denial only heightened the tension for me, and, when he does eventually give in, the gains feel all the more satisfying as a result.
#6 The Pig Feed: It’s not easy to write a gainer story where there isn’t another character spurring the events along and encouraging things. In this tale however, that role is given to a very tasty and surprisingly addictive pig feed mixture that Steve gets himself hooked on. It’s a story that I really enjoyed writing and still feel very happy with. I have considered writing more stories around this interesting feed. However, I am yet to do so; deciding (for now at least) that things are perhaps best left as they are. But, feel free to let me know your thoughts on this.
#5 Farm Boy: Whether you grew up in a big city, or a small rural community, like Hayden in this story, we can all relate to having desires and attractions that those around us don’t understand. And, thanks to how well connected we are these days, we now know what it’s like to realise that you’re not actually alone, and the whirlwind of excited emotions that follow. I enjoyed writing this story because I, quite simply, fell completely in love with Hayden. As kinky as he was, he still retained that fresh faced innocence throughout. If any of my characters were destined to be together forever, I imagine that these two would be my top choice.
#4 Keeping a Crush: This is one of those stories that I wrote in a matter of hours, and I was so pleased with it when I was done. Getting the train to go to work is not necessarily something that many Americans have to do, and so the location had to be switched to the UK (quite refreshing, I thought!). For me, it’s one of those really rare instances where placing very solid restrictions on the structure of a story (In this case, having it all take place during the commute to and from work) and finding that it actually elevates the sexual tension and mood. All scenes take place in public settings. All conversations could, in theory, be overheard. These days, so many people meet online and flirt for weeks by messaging back and forth, before they even see each other for the first time. Nowadays, for better or for worse, the actual, real fantasy is finding a connection with someone you just see in the real world; perhaps with a person you literally just met on the way to work...
If you’ve not read this one, I really would highly recommend it.
#3 To the Max: Stories with a magical element to them are either loved or hated. However, I find that this tale walks that line very successfully. Ned gets his hands on a love potion and makes straight guy, Max, fall for him. I’m sure we’ve all been there with that fantasy! However, it is in the consequences of inviting someone into your life, someone that you actually know very little about, that the entire eroticism of this story is based. I won’t spoil it for those who have not read it, but believe me when I say that things soon start getting very interesting indeed…
#2 Tommy’s Two Hundred. Don’t recognise this one? Well, that's because none of you have read it yet.
Now, I’m not just saying this because I want you all to come back for the two hundreth story, but this is genuinely one of my absolute favourites. For my big milestone stories in the past, I have written something specifically for that event (Wright vs Beckett, The Seven Feeders of Finn). However, this is just a tale that I adored writing and decided to hold back for you all, especially for this occasion. It’s a story of domination and submission within a fairly open, but very kinky, relationship. Strapping Hunter plays the part of a very controlling feeder, making me break many of my own rules and stretching my boundaries to the absolute limits. You’ll either love him, or you’ll hate him. That’s all I’m going to say…
Also, this story is going to be the first Feeder86 story that will be fully illustrated. It’s all thanks to the amazing talents of Spellwell9 who was given an advanced copy and asked to imagine the characters in four different scenes. I cannot wait for you to see this!
Put it in your diary. All will be revealed from Friday 5th April…
#1 F80 Control: This is perhaps a controvercial choice (especially as my #1). I have previously admitted that this story strays a little from its purpose of being a gainer story. In other words, I get very caught up in the background story that is being told. However, I feel that the science fiction genre is surprisingly underused in tales of weight gain. Yet, the combination of Aritificial Intelligence and submission seemed, to me, to be the perfect blend. It really is a beast of a story if you can follow it all the way through to its conclusion.
With the advent of improved artificial intelligence software in recent years, I felt the time was right to develop the world further, with the addition of F80 Ctrl Alt Del; a spin-off tale set slightly before the main story. Then, unable to help myself, I followed this up again with another companion story, F80: Kidnap and Control.
The reason I chose this universe as my favourite is because this is where I am happiest writing. With AI, I don’t need to consider the morality or motivations - I know exactly what their aims are and I can see multiple ways in which it will cause conflict with humanity (and their waistlines!) I would also love to write more for this world one day, and I even left a little unused subplot in the last story that I think would provide the perfect starting-off point for another chapter. Will I ever write it? Well, we’ll have to wait and see…
So, there you have it! The the complete list!
This was a much harder exercise than I expected when I first embarked upon it. Stories like: Jiggle the Jock, Meticulous, Rule Number One, Freaks, Leftovers I and II, Ethan: The Secret Feeder and, not fogetting The Consequences I, II and III all crept in and out of the list, unfortunatley missing out on the final cut. There are many, many others, of course. But this list cannot go on forever...
So, why not tell me which ones were your favourites? Feel free to write in the comments and post a link to any other stories that you have enjoyed from myself, or from other authors. Hopefully, if we all work together, this could become a great resource for people in the future, filled with signposts and reccommendations.
Also, don’t forget the Feeder86 Contents page where you can find links and descriptions of all the 200 stories posted so far (as well as plot outlines for upcoming tales as well). Please continue to enjoy the vast catalogue of stories, and even have a go yourself! I love supporting the many new gainer fiction writers who contact me. So please do get in touch if you need advice, or to talk through your ideas. Let’s all encourage a whole new generation of people to get typing away! I’m sure you will cheer them on just as much as I will.
Thank you to everyone who supports the stories blog here on Tumblr. Keep checking in every Friday througout April for a whole new sweeps season to celebrate this milestone. Stories will include: Tommy's Two Hundred, Train for a Gain, The Feeders' Fortress and The 1% (a companion story to The 5%). For now, I thank you all for taking time out to sit and read the very bizarre tales that sprout from my mind. You are all wonderful.
Happy 200 stories!
Feeder86
#gainer fiction#gainer stories#gainerstory#gayfeeder#gainerfic#gainer story#gayfeedee#gay feedee#gainerstories
819 notes
·
View notes
Text
put on your records (and regret me)
PART 1 | SERIES
Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader
Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, alcohol references, no use of y/n
Wordcount: 2.5k
Playlist
You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.
Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?
Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.
TRACK 1
April 1994
“So, all votes are in?” Katie asked. Everyone in the room nodded, and you sat forward in your seat.
The current General Manager of the radio station, Katie, ran a tight ship. Still, nobody could deny that they were sad to see her leaving - graduation was claiming too many people this year. She glanced down at her clipboard, adjusting her glasses.
General Manager would be read first, you knew that - it was the closest position the station had to President, the person who ran the whole thing. And after the last three years, all signs pointed to Katie's successor being you. Most people didn’t want the job - it was pretty thankless, all on a volunteer basis, and the election is often more of a formality to the most obvious person. But, you were passionate about the radio station - you always had been. Running it wouldn’t be easy, but you knew you were the right person to do it.
You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your favorite place, your niche. There’s nothing you loved more than spinning some records on-the-air, hanging out in the station lounge, and being a part of something. It’s where you’ve made your friends, easily able to bond over your love of music, making it your safe space when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.
You could feel Steve Harrington’s eyes on you from where he sat across the room. You pointedly ignored him, your clasped fingers growing clammy with anticipation.
“Drumroll, everyone!” she said, resulting in a cacophony of pats against legs, tables, or any available surface. When Katie read your name, the room broke into a smattering of applause.
“Congratulations!” Nancy cried from where she sat next to you, throwing her arms around your shoulders.
“Thanks,” you laughed, giving your friend a tight squeeze.
Despite the fact that you had expected this, a wave of relief washed over you. There was no glamor in keeping this place running, you knew that. Still, you cared too much about it, and now it was in your hands… just as you had hoped.
Your joy could only last so long, though - you were almost too caught up in your personal celebration to notice. Almost.
“Okay, and for Program Director… Steve!”
This time, a few whoops and hollers were let out - probably from Steve’s buddies, large in number and often loudly enthusiastic. But, you were just frozen, feeling your fists clench.
The Program Director coordinates a lot of things - new DJ training, events, stocking the music library… and works most closely with the General Manager. Meaning...
“Looks like we’re gonna be spending a lot of time together, sweetheart,” he said later with a smirk.
The meeting was long over - positions had been announced, congratulations given, goodbyes for the semester bid on the way out. You had sat there for the last hour with a rage steadily bubbling under the surface. You had tried your best to listen, relieved to find out Nancy was working as the Media Director, and your friend Eddie working as the Training Director. That, at least, offered some comfort - if you’d be running your favorite place with your friends, how bad could it be?
The answer, apparently, is still pretty shitty.
You can’t put a finger on exactly why Steve Harrington bothered you so much. But, from the moment you had met, he had been a thorn in your side. He knew it, too - it seemed to be his life’s mission to get on your nerves, just to get a rise out of you.
But he was blocking the exit, arm leaning casually against the doorframe. So, you took the approach you usually tried to - not letting him see that he was getting to you.
“Looks like it,” you said, words measured and careful. “But until then… have a good summer, Harirngton.”
You tried to shoulder past him, but he wasn’t budging. You sighed, meeting his gaze again and straightening up a bit.
“Do you mind?”
“I just thought you were gonna try to stick around - let me guess, you already have a 20-step plan for what we should do next year? I mean, I’m surprised you didn’t just jump all the new E-Board members to tell them how you’re going to run things. You know, in your insane and anal-retentive way.”
You clenched your jaw, grimacing as the notebook that you knew was buried in your backpack, containing your ideas for next year’s agenda.
"That's a pretty big word for you, I'm impressed," you mocked. Before he could come up with a clever reply, you continued:
“You know, I was surprised you ran for a position,” you said sweetly. “I mean, last I checked, you haven’t shown up to a single volunteer event. Were you even at the Spring fundraiser?”
“I was busy.”
“Funny way of saying hungover,” you retorted.
You took a deep breath, taking a moment to regain your composure.
“Look, we’re going to have to work together, so - can we just start over? Bury the hatchet, or whatever?”
He just grinned.
“Yeah, sure thing, sweetheart,” he said, voice lower. “You’re the boss.”
You had given up on asking him to drop the sweetheart thing long ago. So instead, you gave him a sharp nod, muttering have a good summer, Harrington.
He stepped aside enough to let you through, but still crowded the doorway enough that you had to brush past him as you did.
You ignored the way his breath caught as you did.
Maybe you could both be mature adults about this… maybe.
*******
September
“Harrington?!” You cry, stomping into the booth. Steve sits in the chair, switchboard alight as Head Over Heels plays through the speakers. He barely hears you enter, thanks to the headphones he’s wearing. When you slam your hands down on the desk, he jumps in his seat.
“Jesus - the fuck are you doing here?” he cries, yanking the headphones off to let them fall around his neck.
“You booked studio space without going through me,” you say angrily.
His face shifted then, from confusion to smugness.
“Oh - well, you were unreachable, and I only needed two board members’ approval. And, I count as a board member.”
“Who the fuck was the second person who approved it?”
“Eddie.”
You groaned. Of course - Eddie probably didn’t even know -
“So your band just happened to book studio space to go on-air during my show’s time slot?”
“Oh… it’s during your show?” he asks, voice saccharine with feigned innocence.
You rolled your eyes.
“Cut the act, Harrington. There are a ton of empty time slots that your little band could play during, you know.”
He sighed, crossing his arms and spinning the chair around to fully face you.
“If you’re so hurt about it, why don’t you come by? We need an emcee, and if you’re already usually here…”
“As if I’d waste my time coming to listen to you guys. I don’t even listen to your show.”
“So you’ve said. I thought your boyfriend was in the band too, last time I checked.”
You scoffed. “Eddie is not my boyfriend. And, not that he’d ever tell you, but he’s filling in as a favor. He’s only playing with you guys because Corroded Coffin broke up.”
Something unreadable flickers across Steve’s face, then he shakes his head.
“Yeah, okay - keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But, we’ve got the time next Thursday - so, come by, don’t come by… I don’t give a shit. Just let me know by the weekend if you are - it’s only protocol, after all, and I know you’re a stickler for that.”
He pulls the headphones back over his ears, turning the volume of the music up a bit.
“Now, if you don’t mind - I’m about to go on-air, and I’d hate for everyone to hear your hissy-fit through the radio waves, you know?”
He returns his attention to the microphone, ready to turn down the music and start speaking - but you’re not giving him the satisfaction of sticking around to watch.
You just huff, crossing your arms and stomping out with even more fury than you came.
Your drive home is full of frustration that grows to rage. You grumble under your breath over the hum of the radio, cursing Steve Harrington’s name at every red light, every sharp turn. It’s only when you pull up to your apartment and park that you realize what’s even playing through the car’s speakers.
It’s WAMC - what else would you have on? You always have your radio tuned to 98.9, doing your best to listen to your friends and support the station you hold so dearly. But, of course, the person on the air right now is him.
You had taken a personal vow a while ago to not tune into Steve’s show. You know it’s stupid - one listener doesn’t make a difference, and you know Steve Harrington certainly doesn't have trouble sleeping at night knowing that you don’t listen to whatever crappy music he plays over the air. But, he’s driving you crazy - he’s so arrogant, so smug, and everyone else eats it up. Nobody dislikes Steve Harrington… it seems like everyone on campus who knows Steve either is in love with him, or wants to be him. You’ll never understand the hold he has over people.
But, maybe you should try to - it’s only fair to get a sense of what all the fuss is about, you reason. So, you turn up the volume dial, letting the music flow through the stereo and over the din of your still-running engine.
It’s about what you expect - mostly Top 40 hits, some classic rock sprinkled in. It’s not bad, necessarily - just, like nearly any other station you could tune your radio to. It’s not a hard and fast rule to play lesser-known music - it’s just encouraged. But, everyone tunes into Steve’s show, ask him for advice on how to plan a slot… it makes your blood boil.
You tell yourself that you’re only going to listen for a few minutes. When Steve’s voice comes on the air, you roll your eyes - he’s cracking jokes, giving anecdotes about the songs, and unfortunately, he’s nearly charming. You don’t realize a full hour has passed until he signs off. You quickly kill your engine and dart into your apartment, doing your best to try not to dwell on the slight disappointment in the show being over.
Double-booking your radio slot was only the most recent of a string of things Steve had been doing to piss you off - showing up late to meetings (if he even shows up at all), calling out of his radio show, making snide remarks under his breath at the meetings he does show up to… you’re basically doing two jobs at once. Any false promise of civility between you two is a thing of the past. He’s making your life a living Hell - but, you’re not one to back down. Two can play dirty, after all.
******
October
You and Steve spend the next few weeks doing a delicate dance, going back and forth not-so-subtly sabotaging one another. His band tried to book a gig at the local venue, which you conveniently “forgot” to sign off on. He tells incoming freshmen that they don’t need to go through you when applying to be a DJ, causing an enrollment nightmare. You pay Jonathan Byers $20 for the equipment to “break,” only for the two hours that Steve is scheduled to do his radio show. But, throughout it all, you barely actually see one another. It’s nearly a month later that you actually encounter him again.
The moment you set foot in the vinyl library, you groan. He looks up from where he’s perusing the records on the shelves, grinning as soon as he locks eyes with you.
“Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart.”
Fuck off, you think.
“Hey, Harrington,” you say, exhibiting what you consider to be an exorbitant amount of restraint. After your blowup last time, the last thing you need is to continue to give him the satisfaction of having the upper hand.
You march straight ahead, going right to the shelf next to him. You pointedly stare forward, running your fingers along the spines of the albums, pulling out the ones you’re looking for as you find them.
You hear Steve scoff next to you, and you roll your eyes - practically an involuntary response with him at this point.
“Do you have a problem?” you asked, your tone biting.
He just shrugs. “No. You’re just… predictable.”
“How so?”
“If you asked me to come in here, and pick out the records for your radio show for you… it’d just be too easy. Let me guess… The Smiths… Talking Heads… R.E.M…Sonic Youth…and some European band whose name I can’t pronounce, probably. Am I close?”
You clutched the records close to your chest, arms crossing to obscure them.
Steve just grins smugly.
You hold your place, not breaking eye contact. He simply shrugs, tongue pushed to the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing.
Pleased with himself. Too cocky. A challenge.
“That’s what I thought.”
You straightened up, keeping eye contact.
“You act as if you’re any better, with your Worst 40 bullshit -”
“You only pretend to not like it to be different -”
“I don’t pretend to not like your music! I’m just trying to make us sound different from any other station people tune into -”
“So you do listen to my show?” he asks. He’s still wearing that shit-eating grin, but for just a moment, you swear he sounds surprised.
You open and close your mouth a few times, debating what to say. You’ve been caught. And he’s just staring at you, so blatantly self-satisfied, that you want to punch him.
“Shut up,” you say quietly.
“You gonna make me?” he asks.
You feel your face heat. The vinyl library is too cramped, its narrow walls making Steve stand just a bit too close to you. You swallow, straightening up a bit. He’s blocking the only exit, a habit he seems to reserve especially for you.
“Can you let me leave, Harrington? Or do I have to answer a riddle or something first?”
“I’m having a party on Friday,” he blurts out. “You should stop by. Everyone else from the station is coming.”
You shake your head.
“Um - I don’t think -”
“C’mon, sweetheart - show me that you know how to have a little fun!”
You shrug.
“Maybe. Whatever, I’ll see.”
He grins. “Okay - 36 Hamilton Street, by the way. Friday night, 10pm.”
Then he’s gone, leaving you alone in the darkness of the record library. You try to ignore how fast your heart is beating in his wake.
Fucking Steve Harrington.
author's note: Hi everyone! Here's the first part of a brand new fic - ta da! In general, I think the plan for this fic is to have shorter chapters, but more total chapters, so the word count will be... whatever it ends up being. Keep in mind that there will be smut down the line, so only engage is 18+, please. Likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated! Also, this was barely edited, so if you see a mistake... no you didn't.
#steve harrington#steve x reader#steve harrington smut#steve harrington/fem!reader#steve harrington/reader#steve harrington/you#steve harrington fanfic#enemies to lovers#steve harrington enemies to lovers#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington/reader smut#steve harrington x you#put on your records fic
472 notes
·
View notes
Text
tell me something girl (are you happy in this modern world) // tom “iceman” kazansky
summary: after thirty years of marriage, heather kazansky reflects on the time she spent and the love she shared with tom as she prepares to write her eulogy and say goodbye to her husband.
pairing: tom kazansky x wife!oc (named heather)
warnings: canon character death (Tom) and mentions of gooses death from the original movie, depictions of grief, mentions of mental health and medication,
authors note: this is the fic I firmly believe I was put on this earth to write. I wanted to do so much more with it, but honestly would have ended up with like 16k words or something like that.
April 2022, Miramar, California.
“is that the admirals wife?”
“jake, shut the fuck up.”
heather kazasnky had never thought of herself as an impressive woman. she always found herself timid, shy and a little anxious. it wasn’t until the first offshoots of gray started to sprout in her hair, and she’d watched all three of her children grow up that she truly thought sh had done something impressive with her life.
she sat alone at a table in the corner of the hard deck, oblivious to the wandering eyes of her husbands trainees as her slender fingers navigated the keyboard of her MacBook.
“heather?”
she started at the voice, cheeks marred with the flush of someone who had just been sobbing as she turned to look at the speaker.
“peter,” she hummed. “it’s good to see you, maverick.”
heather got to her feet, pulling the other pilot in for a tight hug. “nice to see you too, heather. how are you doing.”
“the best I can. the kids are supposed to be coming up tonight to help with the funerals.”
there were always going to be two funerals. the first was the formal military funeral, where her husband would be buried in the same cemetery as nick bradshaw, and the other was more like a reception, something more human and less structured. for the people who knew him not as admiral kazansky, but as tom.
“I miss him, mav. the house feels strange without him in it. I’ve spent so long being heather kazansky, I don’t know how to go back to being just heather.”
maverick shook his head, taking a seat next to her. “you’re still you, heather. you’re still a mother to three incredible kids, and grandmother to two.”
“with another on the way.” she coughed, somehow managing a smile. “joshua’s new girlfriend is expecting. he told tom before he died.”
“congratulations, heather. how are the kids doing?”
“as well as can be expected. as usual, mitchell is the glue holding us together. cassie’s a wreck. she always was her father’s daughter. and for it to happen so soon after she had jamie just seems cruel. tom was going to retire, did you know that? he was ready to put his papers in, we were going to go to greece. it was finally us time again. he gave so much of himself to this country, and I was so excited to finally have him back.”
pete rested a hand on heathers shoulder, squeezing it through the fur of her cardigan. she was strong despite her age, still well built and sturdy, face marred with laugh lines but not a single telltale old woman wrinkle. “I’m so sorry, heather.”
“thank you.”
she turned back to her laptop, showing the other pilot what she was doing. “I’m gathering pictures for the reception. but most of them are of me. tom always had his fucking camera with him. I should have let the kids do this part. all I’m doing is making myself cry.”
she cast her eyes back to her laptop screen, resisting the urge to reach out and run her finger over the photo, soaking in the good memories as they came flooding back. in the picture, she and tom stood on one side of the kitchen counter, laughing with each other as they cut gingerbread cookies.
it had been their first christmas together.
“oh my god,” maverick laughed. “is that iceman in a cable knit?”
“he was so nervous about meeting my dad for the first time. I had to talk him out of wearing his dress whites.”
December 1985, Richmond, Virginia.
they had been together for six months, give or take the few weeks his team had spent deployed in the gulf, and nothing had intimidated tom kazansky more than meeting his girlfriends father. he had wanted to wear his navy dress whites in an attempt to make a good impression before heather had laughed and made him change into jeans and a sweater before they left the apartment.
even then, he had changed sweaters four times before setting on the white cable knit he was currently wearing.
iceman knew how stressed his girl got during the holidays. her family could bring out the worst in her, and they were both highly strung when they walked in the door.
now, she was off to the side with her sister, cradling a mug of hot coco in her hands as she watched him with a smile, chuckling as he dropped a cup of flour down the front of his jeans.
“you really like him, don’t you?”
heather looked back at her sister, who raised her eyebrows as she took a sip of her hot chocolate.
“I do. I really do, abigail. he makes me feel like I’m worth loving, if that makes sense. everything with tom is just so…easy.”
abigail frowned. “he’s a lieutenant, isn’t he? that means he’s going to be deployed a lot. are you sure you can handle that?”
heather sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “we’re trying. he was out in the gulf for a few weeks in september, and we got through it.”
“he’s barely taken his eyes off you since you got here. and when he looks at you, I don’t see anything other than pure, unfiltered love. I bet he’s got a polaroid of you in his cockpit.”
heather laughed, a warm and giddy feeling in her chest. it was clear how much her family loved iceman, and how quickly they were welcoming him into the fold.
“you know I’m losing him for two months in the new year. he’s off to california, got into some fancy fighter jet training program.”
“you can still go see him, right?”
“yeah, I’ve got a few vacation days saved u- oh fuck.” heather cursed, thrusting her mug into abigail’s arms as she saw what her boyfriend was doing. “give me one second, I’ve gotta stop him from screwing up the gingerbread.”
she pushed up the sleeves of her jacquard sweater, socks skidding across the kitchen tiles as she loosely knotted her hair behind her head.
“kaz, sweetie, give me the rolling pin. you’ve gotta knead the dough.” she smiles softly, putting herself between the pilot and the counter.
one of tom’s flour coated hands came to rest as her waist, his chin on the top of her head as she watched her dip her hands into the bowl of flour, and proceed to knead the gingerbread dough by hand. her lovers hands came to rest over hers, his lips soft and warm against her skin as they kneaded the gingerbread dough together.
“see, you don’t always know everything, lieutenant.” she hummed giddily, running her thumb over his wrist.
“yeah, but I know I love you, and that’s all I need.” Tom laughed, gently using his finger to guide her head towards his and placing a soft kiss on her lips.
April 2022, Miramar, California.
heather paused, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "i loved that man so much, pete."
the hard deck was getting busier, off-duty pilots and seamen flooding in from the base at miramar as shifts changed for the day. heather knew all about the dagger squad and the hazy series of events that brought pete mitchell back to the academy, often having to speak for her husband in meetings once his first cancer operation had left him unable to speak for himself.
"auntie heather!" a familiar face looked over from the pool table. bradley bradshaw was a spitting image of his father, right down to the way that his moustache was trimmed.
for heather, it sometimes felt like seeing a ghost.
"brad!" she perked up, waving him over to the table. "how are you?"
when she first came to visit her husband at miramar, somethign about carole bradshaw had pulled heather in. she hadn't known the bradshaw's long, but by the time that goose's accident happened, she felt like she had known that family her whole life.
she did what she could to help carole out afterwards, especially when it came to raising bradley, but as rooster got older and time flew by, it was so easy for carole and heather to fall out of touch.
"you look just like your dad." she hummed, hugging the pilot. "it's like seeing nick again."
bradley nodded solemnly. "i was sorry to hear about admiral kazansky."
"thank you. it had been a long time coming, but there's no way to properly prepare to lose the man you love."
rooster gestures to the group behind him, the mismatched group of people coming to meet him at the table. “aunt heather, I’d like you to meet the dagger squad: jake, natasha, robert, reuben and javy. we knew the admiral well.”
“hi.” heather said weakly, introducing herself. “I’m heather, the admirals wife. or, widow, I guess. I’m still not used to saying that.”
“are you getting ready for the funeral?” jake asked, promptly getting jabbed in the rib cage by natasha.
“what hangman means to say is: we all respected your husband very much, and we would be honoured to help you plan his memorial service.” phoenix corrected, taking heathers hand between both of her own.
“thank you for the offer, natasha.” heather smiled. “bradley, I want to show you something.”
she sat back in front of her laptop, using the touchscreen to pull up a video taken the first summer she came to visit miramar. she had timed the visit to coincide with her birthday, a small selfish part of her unable to fathom spending her birthday without tom.
bradley pulled up a chair next to the table, watching as the screen crackled to life, the date stamp in the corner reading june of 1986. they were inside the o bar, the video opening with heather resting her head on tom’s shoulder, then panning over to the massive birthday cake and sparklers set in front of her. carole bradshaw sat on one side of her, and charlie blackwood was at the head of the table, sitting next to maverick.
“is that my mom?” Bradley smiled fondly. “she looks so full of life.”
“she was.” heather laughed. “and you might remember charlie, she was one of mavericks many lovers.”
“hey!” pete scoffed. “things just didn’t work out.”
“she was always too good for you, pete.” heather laughed, pointing to another space on the screen. the group was singing happy birthday, supported by a rockabilly piano backing track. “bradley, there’s your dad.”
goose was sitting in front of the grand piano, a toothpick hanging between his teeth as he hammered away at the ivory keys, aviator glasses over his eyes.
“happy birthday dear heather, happy birthday to you.”
the camera panned back to heather and tom as she blew out the cake candles. tom pulled her in to a soft kiss while the rest of the table cheered, and then the video cut to black.
“mitchell has been digitizing all of this stuff for us. I caught tom watching our wedding videos before he died.”
“remember when slider and wolfman got absolutely shitfaced at your wedding and tripped down the reception stairs?” maverick laughed to himself “did anybody ever get that on video?”
heather shook her head, a bright smile on her tear stained face as she hunted through the original wedding folder. “I’ve got you one better.”
September 1987, Monterrey, California.
mrs. heather kazansky. she could get used to that.
she was sitting with her sister and tom’s parents, the former two who were conversing with each other in polish. she twirled her wedding band on her finger, face flushed and spirits high as she looked on at her husband.
tom was with maverick and slider, the group of aviators dressed in their best white uniforms, beer bottles lifted high as they drunkenly hollered the words to an old rod stewart song.
“and I know your name is rita, because your perfume smells sweeter.”
abigail was filming, zooming the camera lens in on heather as she asked: “are you sure you don’t wanna back out now? till death do you part, you’re bound to this dumbass now.”
heather laughed, playfully smacking at the camera. “yes, I’m sure!”
“stay with me, come on stay with me!”
sliders voice was three decibels louder than everybody else, and he was also significantly drunker. one of the bridesmaids had her eyes on him, and there wasn’t a doubt in anybody’s mind that ron kerner would have somebody in his bed that night.
iceman’s face was flushed, his arm thrown around maverick as they rocked on their feet, skin sweaty and hair mussed.
but in the midst of all this chaos, he still managed to look over at his new wife, blowing her the softest kiss. she smiled, catching the kiss in her hands and pressing it to her heart, a moment her sister was able to capture frame for frame on digital video.
tom had watched the video hundreds of times as he sat alone in his office, struggling to come to terms with the fact that he’d be leaving not just the love of his life, but his three beautiful children as well.
April 2022. Miramar, California.
“that’s the kind of love that people only dream about.” natasha smiled softly. “you’re lucky you got to spend as much time with him as you did. most couples don’t make it as long as you guys did.”
heather smiled shakily, reaching for her drink. she’d left the sprite so long that the ice had half melted, condensation dripping down the glass.
“he was so good with the kids, you know. I was on and off depressed for a while after joshua was born. my mental health had never been perfect and I was on a low dose anti-anxiety medication for a long time. but after Josh was born, everything just got so much harder and I could barley get out of bed in the mornings. tom would take the kids to school, make their lunches. he was teaching full time at top gun by then, so he took a few days off to stay with me, make me feel like myself again.”
“he was a good man.” robert smiled, rubbing her shoulder.
“yeah, he was.” heather bit her bottom lip, pulling a photo up on her laptop that had the dagger squad letting out a chorus of ‘awe’s’
the picture was taken in 1989. tom was dressed in a gray waffle knit shirt, a pair of pit viper sunglasses on his forehead as he held a smiling baby in his arms. mitchell’s wide eyes looked up at his dad, his tiny fingers wrapped around in of tom’s larger ones.
his name was mitchell ronald kazansky, because tom had made a lame bet with maverick and slider (that he lost) and had to name his firstborn after both of them (because he was a fucking idiot at times, but she loved him anyways).
the boys were both easy children, but cassandra? she was a daddy’s girl through and through, and tom would have moved heaven and earth for his little girl. whatever cassie wanted, she often got, well into adulthood even. she was the spitting image of her father, from her honey blonde hair right down to the birthmark on the underside of her jaw.
when tom walked her down the aisle at her wedding three years ago, he cried all the way to the altar. but not half as much as he sobbed when he held his granddaughter for the first time, cancer-stricken and barely able to speak, but still brimming with joy as he held jamie to his chest.
“he lead a good life. one he was proud of. he used his last words to tell me as much.” heather choked out, overwhelmed by emotions. “I just wish we’d had more time.”
pete placed his hand over hers, squeezing it reassuringly as natasha rubbed her back, and rooster gently squeezed her shoulder.
there was still so much love that heather kazansky still had to give.
still so much love that she was surrounded by.
and maybe that was tom’s way, even from the grave, to tell her that everything would still be alright.
TAGS:
@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @httpiastri @sidcrosbyspuck @twinkodium @sidcrosbyspuck @oconso @thatsdemko @lorarri
#top gun x reader#top gun imagine#tom iceman kazansky x reader#tom kazansky x reader#top gun fanfic#tom kazansky#tom iceman kazansky imagine#top gun (1986)#top gun fanfiction#iceman x reader
153 notes
·
View notes
Text
Back to December | C.F
Pairing: Conrad Fisher x Reader
Summary: Last December you broke Conrad’s heart, now it’s April and seeing him again for the first time he wants to know why (inspired by back to December by Taylor Swift) angst with a happy ending
A/N: initially posted 06/07/23
You’d never really been one for small talk, it all seemed too formal and stiff to you. Standing there and asking the most basic level questions where the answers would barely change the response seemed so menial, so trivial. What did it matter talking about the weather? You wanted to know things about people, their deepest secrets, the things that made their hearts beat and their souls tick.
The first time that you met Conrad Fisher you were 11 almost 12 years old and he was 12 and a half. He was slightly shy at the prospect of meeting a stranger, a stranger his mother wanted him to meet no less and he shuffled over to you on the porch with his arms crossed stiffly behind his back. “I’m Conrad” he said and you nodded “y/n.”
There was a beat of silence then the awkward sound of mosquitos buzzing in the air and your mother and Susannah’s laughter drifting from the kitchen as you stood there. “It’s hot isn’t it?” Conrad finally asked you after a moment and you nodded “yeah.”
He cleared his throat, eyes darting around nervously “erm…so do you like the weather in Cousins?” He asked and you sighed internally, hating the prospect of dreaded small talk. You turned towards him and looked him dead in the eye, seeing the way he gulped but didn’t drop your gaze.
“When was the last time you cried because you were happy and why?” You asked him and he blinked.
“What?”
You looked at him with all the stoicism a tiny eleven year old could muster and repeated “I said when was the last time you cried because you were happy? I don’t care about the weather, tell me something real.”
He thought about it for a second and then almost hesitantly as if he wasn’t sure he should be telling you this he replied “when I won my first football game and dad told me he was proud of me…he’d never said that before.”
You smiled at him and the tension started to roll from his body. In the following years you’d come to cringe when you thought about this interaction, at your brazenness and choice of question, but it was your instant openness that had shocked him and drawn Conrad to you in the first place. Just like that the ice was broken and the two of you were friends, the rest was history.
In the present day that felt like a lifetime ago and in many ways it was. Almost a decade had passed, you were older and time had brought you closer and closer until it snapped and now you might as well have been strangers.
You sat at the table stirring your tea for what felt like the millionth time, the sound of the spoon scraping against the cup jarringly loud against the silence. He was too far away, his body angled away from yours even across the table and you ached with the desire to reach out and touch his hand.
“How’s work?” He asked after what felt like an eternity of silence. You paused the incessant stirring of your tea and looked up at him. His eyes were focused on a sugar packet on the table refusing to let you look too closely.
“I quit” you said and for a second his eyes flashed up, shock evident in his features.
“Oh” he replied “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay” you said instantly “it was a shit job anyway, I think I’m gonna go to college.”
“Really?” You could see that he was remembering how you’d given up your dream college, how you’d moved back home and let the fear of change keep you behind. He was remembering all of the fights that you’d had about not giving up, all the times he’d tried to convince you to follow your heart. It was ironic that it had taken losing him for you to see that he was right, that your stubbornness had only led to regret.
He swallowed “that’s…good” he said “I’m happy for you.”
You were dying inside, the boy you knew would have picked you up and spun you around, he would have laughed, he would have said ‘I told you so’ or teased at the very least. Sitting here, making idle conversation was like sitting with a stranger. It was a performance, an act between two people who knew enough about each other to fill in every single gap but were too shattered to exist together anymore. Two broken puzzle pieces and you only had yourself to blame.
“The weather is miserable” you finally said after another stretch of silence you needed to say something, anything because breathing the still air was starting to feel like inhaling glass “I’ve never seen Cousins like this.”
Conrad turned to face the window, the raindrops beating on the glass were fierce, the wind belligerent and howling. He picked up his cup and sipped slowly his eyes far away as he watched the storm. “It’s like this a lot in the winter, completely different to the summer.”
Your eyes closed automatically, you’d never seen cousins in the winter before except for once. Last December, when it all went wrong, when you tore everything apart.
It hadn’t been raining then, it had been snowing. Powder white snow that crunched under foot covering the little town with a fine mist. Your breath had fogged up the windowpane as you’d driven into town and Conrad had squeezed your hand tight. Everything had started so perfectly, your relationship at that time was so beautiful but so fragile just waiting for the hairpin cracks to fracture.
You could tell that he was thinking about it, about last December with the way that his face was twisted. There was a wrinkle between his furrowed eyebrows he only got when he thought hard, one you’d often teased him for, pressing your thumb over it to smooth out the soft skin. You were too far away to do that now and not just physically, you no longer had the right to tease him, to touch him so casually.
“How’s your mom?” You asked and he looked up from the napkin he was twisting between his fingers and caught your eye for the first time.
“She’s good” he murmured and his voice was tender and full of love. No matter what happened between the two of you you’d always have a shared love for Susannah. No one else in the world apart from Jeremiah understood how wonderful she was like you. “She got the all clear last month…she’s getting better every day.”
You’d heard it from your own mom but hearing it from Conrad directly was still a wave of relief. The bridge between you two narrowed ever so slightly as you shared a look of desperate relief.
Looking into his eyes directly was hell. These were the eyes you’d once called home, the soft blue your paradise and your dreamland. Now there was a wall behind them, the easy openness gone and you couldn’t blame him for that. His guard was up and you knew why.
December flashed across your mind again and you saw Cousins painted in snow once more, picturesque, beautiful and blissfully unaware that in her cold lay the end of it all. You saw Conrad and the bouquet of crimson red roses, so bright and vibrant against the pale grey sky. “I love you” he’d said “I’ve always loved you” the words were so sweet but they tasted bitter when you breathed them in. Everything was happening at once, Conrad was in college and you were working at home so far away from each other. Life had been padding along all this time and suddenly it had decided to sprint and everything was changing. Susanna was sick again, you’d given up your dream, Conrad was changing so afraid to lose his mom. The future which had always been something to look forward to was suddenly a terrifying thought, vast and open and bleak in front of you with no clear direction.
He held out the roses to you, told you that he loved you and asked you to move out to be closer to him and you fled. You abandoned your plans of spending a pre Christmas weekend in Cousins and ran all the way back home. You’d lost everything, most importantly your sense of self and you didn’t feel like you deserved Conrad’s love. You left without turning back, leaving the roses on the kitchen island.
Bizarrely in the coming days, weeks, months as you mulled over your decision the roses would be what you came to focus on. Did he throw them away as soon as you left? Did they wither and crumple at the bottom of the trash can buried under cans of beer and pizza boxes? Or maybe he threw them straight onto the fire, watched them be consumed by flames turning to ash and curling into smoke burning out as fast as the two of you. Or maybe he did what you suspected he did, what the most Conrad thing to do would be. Maybe he put them in his mothers big pink vase on the kitchen window sill…watched them slowly die day by day, petals falling and crumpling to the ground as he waited for you to come back and claim them, unaware that you never would. Did each crumb of hope wither away with every hour that the roses died? You thought that maybe as the scent of their decay filled Susannah’s lovely bright kitchen, cloy and thick in the air, that he finally gave up on you and left December behind.
You couldn’t look at him anymore and you broke away from his eyes shamefully. You looked at the house, the kitchen island, the old white chairs, the fireplace and the white washed walls. It was all so familiar but so different, once again you were seeing it in a new season for the first time and with Spring some of its life had washed away. In every crack in the plaster, every scuff on the hardwood floors there was a memory.
Every summer since you were 11 years old, had taken place in this house. All those beautiful, vibrant days coloured every room in shades of grey, the present failing to compare to the memories of the past.
You saw Conrad sitting next to you at the table, squeezing your hand when Jeremiah teased you. You saw yourself drinking Susannah’s sweet tea on the porch, playing chicken in the pool, laughing till your lungs ached in the living room. The summer everything became new flashed through your mind, Conrad kissing you for the first time on the porch, Conrad with sand in his hair laying beside you. Your hands tangled together, your laughter echoing in the car, sneaking down to the beach at midnight, playing games in the surf. A mirage of happy memories contrasting with the dreary April that you lived in now.
You were silent and sedentary, trying to stop the tears falling from your eyes as you thought about all you’d lost, the memories that made it hard to sleep at night. Conrad was the one to break the silence, his voice cutting over the ringing in your ears and bringing you out of the sunshine filled memories into the grey. “Why are you here?” He asked finally and his voice was defeated, tired and worn.
You swallowed hard, that was the question of the day, the question of the hour. You’d asked him to meet you in Cousins, asked him to drive down in the middle of his college break and he’d done it, despite everything he’d made time to see you and now he needed to know why.
“I-“ your voice caught and you clenched your fist under the table keeping ahold of your emotion “I needed to see you.”
His voice was thick, his gaze steadfast down at the table as he refused to look at you “why? after you left I thought you never wanted to see me again so I need to know why.”
“I made a mistake” you whispered “Conrad I made the biggest mistake of my life when I left you and from the minute I walked out of here I knew it was wrong…I - god” the tears that had been threatening to spill finally flooded out and you couldn’t speak, crying hard, pressing your palms into your eyes desperately trying to stop the flow.
You didn’t hear him stand up, didn’t hear him close the distance between the two of you. You jolted with surprise when you felt his hand on your shoulder, so warm in contrast with the freezing room. He said nothing, looked only at a fixed point above your shoulder but he stepped closer and closer until his chest was level with your head, his other arm stiffly coming to stroke through your hair. Even after everything he was still comforting you and the thought made you cry harder, tears soaking the thin fabric of his Henley.
It reminded you of another night Conrad had comforted you, the first time he’d ever seen you cry. The glum September after your beloved pet died. You were 14 and Susannah brought the boys over for a weekend in an attempt to cheer you up. It resulted in you hiding in your room crying your eyes out when Conrad had tiptoed in. He’d said nothing even then but he’d held you in his arms letting you cry until your breath was rattly and your voice was hoarse. “It’s okay” he finally whispered to you, “I’m here.”
The force of that memory was what made you finally be able to stop the tears, you pulled away and looked up at Conrad, wiping away the tears on the back of your hand. He started to say something but you cut him off “please, please just let me say this” you begged him and he paused before nodding and reluctantly taking the seat opposite you once more.
“I’ve made so many mistakes in my life” you began “so so many but none as big as when I let you go…I never explained it to you I didn’t know how to but you deserve that…I asked you here because you deserve that. I don’t expect you to take me back, I don’t expect you to forgive me, I don’t expect you to do anything.” Your voice wavered “I hope we can be friends again one day because well…because I miss you but I wouldn’t blame you if you never wanted to see me again after this.”
You took a deep breath and he went to speak again but you cut him off. “I left you because I was afraid, I loved you too much and I was so scared that you’d realise I was messed up and leave that I left you myself.”
He made a sound of surprise, indignation, shock you couldn’t tell which but you carried on “you were in college, you’d met all these people and I just felt like I didn’t fit in your life anymore…you were driving for hours almost every weekend coming to see me when you should have been having fun moving forwards but instead I was making you stay stuck with me…”
You finally looked at him “I tried to set you free Conrad, I thought it was for the best but every second of ‘freedom’ has been nothing but missing you, wishing I’d realised that you were right and you were everything to me. From the minute I left this room I’ve lived here, I go back to December all the time wishing I could change my own mind and see what was real, what was my future, because it wasn’t my insecurity or my fears…it was always you.”
Conrad’s eyes were glossy with his own unshed tears and he reached across the table taking your hand in his, squeezing your fingers hard like he couldn’t believe you were there in front of him “I thought you outgrew me” he confessed “I thought I was overcrowding your life, coming around all the time when I was unwanted.”
You shook your head “that couldn’t be further from the -“ and he interrupted you, his words hurried and rushed like he needed to expel them.
“I lied to you” he said “I told you college was good, that I was having fun but the truth was I hated it. I really hated it. I missed my mom, my brother…I missed you. I didn’t care about any of the parties, no one understood about my mom or even understood me…I thought if I hid that from you and made you think I was having fun you wouldn’t see how much of a loser I’d become…that you wouldn’t move onto someone better.”
You stood up abruptly, your chair scraping loudly against the hardwood floor. “Conrad Fisher” you rushed to his side, squeezing his hand tightly “you were never a loser…not to me I had no idea I thought -“
“I should have told you, we should have talked to each other. I could tell you felt scared of the future but all I did was push you when I should have asked what was wrong, don’t take all the blame.”
You sniffled, wiping away a tear “how did we become such a mess?” You asked and he stood up, looking down at your face as he cupped your cheek.
“Life’s a mess” he whispered “but you were always the best part of it.”
You pressed your own fingers over his, closing your eyes briefly “I love you” you whispered “I’ve always loved you.”
You felt his breath fan across your cheek as he exhaled “I love you too, so goddamn much…do you think we could ever be what we used to be?”
You shook your head “no” you replied instantly “because If we loved again I swear I’d love you right, no more roses left to die…all in.”
Conrad blinked “I’d like that” he said “on one condition.”
Your breathing stopped “anything.”
“Let me love you too” he leaned in until your lips were inches apart, blue eyes warm as they stared into yours “please.”
You bridged the gap and kissed him, the cold frost of winter melted away in seconds, December already fading into an old memory. Spring was in bloom and you had a really good feeling that everything would be okay.
#Conrad fisher x reader#Conrad fisher imagine#Conrad fisher#Conrad fisher x y/n#Conrad fisher x you#Conrad fisher fluff#Conrad fisher angst
320 notes
·
View notes
Text
rosquez a/b/o headcanon
i had these thoughts in my head for a few days now so sorry for my rambling....
first meeting
they first met in 2008 when marc was 15. vale was already the top alpha of the motogp paddock. marc had yet to present and was still a pup (small in size and no distinctive smell).
two days later marc presented as an omega, his mom found him clutching his repsol honda polo he had worn at that meeting.
his parents were a bit surprised to see him present as an omega since marc was so brazen and sure of himself. but you could see his omega traits shine when he was caring for his little brother.
at first marc is mad to be an omega but then he remembers his favorite rider (dani pedrosa) is one too and it motivates him even more. he wants to become the first omega motogp champion.
meanwhile (2010 to 2012)
marc is racing in 125cc and vale has a ritual of always watching the beginning of the 125cc race (he doesn't know why, it calms him).
they don't really cross path a lot on the paddock, vale is a busy man.
marc has seen him from afar and everytime he gets flustered. vale just smells so good to him.
vale hasn't noticed marc's smell so far. in 2010 he started taking another omega under his wings (marco simoncelli), people were talking about them mating even in the future until tragedy struck.
beginnings in motogp (2013)
they didn't really meet each other during the tests (marc busy with honda and vale returning to yamaha).
they met formally in qatar in april of 2013.
first for the official pictures. with all the other riders present vale couldn't really make out marc's designation (especially since his teammate dani is also an omega), moreover marc decided to take scent dampers for his first race. it was advised by his team and his parents agreed (they wanted hime to be safe).
then comes the race and vale is finally back on the podium. he is so happy with his result and is really hopeful for this season, the bike feels good.
and marc, first race, first podium, everybody knows now that he is the next best thing.
just after the race and while they wait for the podium they get closer and then...with the race, the sweat, marc's scent dampers are doing nothing to hide his scent...and vale really can't do nothing but to stare with round eyes. who is this (very) young omega who smells like heaven and home and forbidden. for the first time in a long time he has to compose himself not to loose control. jorge is literally coughing because of the alpha's heavy scent and he places subtlety himself between the other two to help vale calm himself a bit. for marc he is so excited to be in the podium that he doesn't really notice at first. such a clueless and naive little omega not conscious of his power (yet). he starts to walk to the podium and realize he is soaking wet.....he is a bit mortified but fuck it we ball.
if there's something to know about marc is that although he is not ashamed about being an omega, he knows next to nothing about omega's sexuality and relationship with alphas (he was focused on racing and it's not something he talked a lot with his parents).
after the race vale retreated to his motorhome not able to shake marc's scent from his memory (spends the night furiously touching himself feeling half guilty half horny off his head).
26 notes
·
View notes
Text
I finished the 87 series as a whole (except the European vacay season like I can't find it anywhere) and want to cry!!! My boys!!! I can't believe it's done!!!
What an awesome show. I might have to rewatch it just to write down more notes and thoughts. ;)
Anyways here's some headcanons about my sweet 87 boys and some show observations:
Hopefully with this people might give the show a chance. It's so delightful and charming. You won't be disappointed.
🐢🧡🐢💜🐢♥️🐢💙
The turtles are all basically 3-4 years old. They make tons of comments about living half their lives in a fish bowl and when Yoshi comes across them they're still babies. When they're shown mutating, they go from baby turtles to the older bipedal forms we know them by.
They're all identical sans their voices. (In the 87 show not only does April have trouble telling them apart at the beginning but so do the animators in every episode)
They all seem to possess super strength and some levels of invulnerability. Donatello in particular had a multiple story brick building dropped on him, which he just walked off. They've all shown varying skills such as bending metal with their bare hands. Raphael as a practical joke in one episode picks up a couch and hurls it at Donatello just to be smartass. Leonardo cuts metal like tinfoil.
They still think of themselves as turtles first and foremost, so they don't refer to each other as brothers. (despite the fact they're totally brothers) and simply address each other as friends. (They're brothers tho we all know the truth 💕)
Something not explained in the opening of the 3rd season, the turtles as babies, before they mutate, are shown with different shell patterns. While it's not obvious which turtle is which it is neat the artists went out of their way to animate each turtle with a unique pattern.
When you watch the show the amount of people and mutants that dislike the turtles is shocking. For a fun kids show made in the late 80's to mid 90's, it's basically a huge allegory to the civil rights movements and you can even take relevance to human rights movements of today.
Despite being so lovable they have only a small circle of friends. Most of those friends at some point have betrayed them too.
The boys have seen two different futures of themselves. (not counting their shared apocalypse nightmares) The first future is where they get old together in a mansion and they're heralded as heroes and everyone likes them. The second future doesn't show them but in the second future it's stated being a mutant is a crime punishable by death and all mutants are criminals regardless of deeds. This is before the red skies studio era of writing. That's before it's supposed to get edgy.
They all are highly intelligent. They can each pilot every vehicle ever present in the show despite none of them having a formal education, license, or understanding of the rules of the road. Michelangelo in particular seems to have a knack for US fighter jets.
In season 7 episode 11, titled "Dirk Savage: Mutant Hunter!" We meet two new mutants named Rahzar and Tokka. They're a gay couple. You don't believe me? Go watch the episode. I'm not pulling your leg. I swear. I promise. It's a good episode go watch it.
Master Splinter calls them his sons. He also calls Carter, his newest student, son occasionally too. It's his term of endearment.
The turtles in this version are known to get sick pretty regularly. (probably because of their still developing immune systems). They always get sick as a group and they totally soak up the pampering.
They in the first season share a 4 stack bunk bed and then after the bunk is destroyed in the season 1 finale they each get their own alcoves which they treat as their own rooms.
I didn't remember which Punk Frog said it, but one of them called Leonard and Michelangelo his Bubba which is a term of endearment for brother. The punk frogs call each other bubba too. So unlike the turtles they were either all frog brothers who mutated together or after mutating they just decided they're brothers and they also adopted the turtles as their brothers too.
Mondo Gecko seems older in this series because of his appearance but he's the same age as the turtles and actually mutated from the same ooze as them on the same day at the same time so he in 87 is like a mix of their brother and cousin? He's related regardless. (We all know the truth in our hearts)
Shredder and Krang act like a married couple who've been married too long and are on the cusp of a divorce but they've been together too long so they just keep tolerating eachother.
They all love the unhinged gross unholy pizza combos. Michaelangelo's stated combos are actually tame compared to some of the things they've eaten. One episode the boys committed to the bit so hard they ate lit candles just to mess with Michelangelo. They get pregnant sardine fudge pizza cravings at midnight. They put cereal on regular pizza for breakfast. They hate vegetables though. They literally gag when Splinter eats sushi. They refuse to eat bugs despite their turtle origins (interesting enough the Punk Frogs don't even like pizza at all first unlike them) but like they will eat out of the garbage. But not fresh handmade sushi.
They're so casual about being in public. Like they have disguises but sometimes they just go out in public as themselves. They also have so many elaborate disguises. In the first episode their first instinct to blend in was to throw on bright neon shoes, various bomber jackets, and start publicly beatboxing and breakdancing.
The turtles get called slurs by Shredder, Bebop, and Rocksteady. The slur in question is "Shellback" . When Donatello makes an evil clone the first thing the clone does is call him that slur. It's so funny like that's yourself. Donatello basically called himself ugly. Why is that so funny.
Shredders go to threat in the show and many other villains go to insult is to straight up threaten to eat them. Like, do none of the villains care about getting salmonella? Why do all the villains want to eat them?
Something I've noticed, they refuse to use nicknames. They only use each other's full names. It makes me wonder why? I theorize it's probably to do with the fact Master Splinter gave them their names and that's the first thing they received? It's not like they're not playful enough to use nicknames.
Despite his fatherly role in their lives, the turtle boys don't call Splinter their father and this is more than likely to do with the fact they see themselves as turtles and know they have turtle parents. (Again we know the truth)
April in this show is an adrenaline junky. She's also a child endangerer. She's helped save the day a lot but she would much rather the world burn so she can film it as her next big scoop.
The boys treat April like their mom in this show. April herself doesn't really get that. In one episode she got poison flowers and thought it was from the boys and went to "let them down gently" because she thought they romantically liked her.
April on multiple occasions reads bed time stories to them. She in one episode read the same bedtime story 4 times just because they liked it that much. She was going to read it a 5th time just for Leonardo.
When Zack, the 5th turtle, was in danger instead of helping him April shouted "What a scoop!" and filmed a child in a death trap.
Splinter believes in wholesome gaslighting in this show. He once cured three of them of permanent balloon-itis with moth balls but made up a story about how it was an ancient mythical legendary cure. Then after they were better he said it was moth balls.
April actually got fired from her job because she wouldn't badmouth the turtles on live television (also for other reasons). She focused on freelance while helping the boys on the side.
April is really bamf. She's actually saved the turtles just as much as they save her.
I just want everyone to know I love these little guys. The turtles are pure little snookie pookie baby bookies. No one knows the amount of space these silly little fictional turtles take up in my heart.
I hope maybe with more word out people might give the 1987 tmnt show a chance. It's really cute and funny. A super enjoyable time. It doesn't deserve the ragging it gets from other shows and fanbases. They're just goobers.
Thanks for reading my ramble list. :)
Also! if there's any fanfic recs please let me know I'm making a list and checking it twice ;)
#brainrot#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt#cartoon#1987 tmnt#87 leonardo#87 raphael#87 michelangelo#87 donatello#i love them your honor#sorry to keep infodumping#headcanons#observations#tmnt trivia?#can this count as trivia#tmnt headcanons#tmnt brainrot#87 April O'Neil#87 April#87 splinter
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shell Shocked AU head-canons/Ideas
• Danny was the smallest when he and his brothers were found. He couldn’t really maintain a proper body temp so Mona and Raph always kept him close and carried him a lot.
• Little Mikey often times tended to wander around the lair alone. Scared the shit out of Uncle Donnie when he found him in his lab one night.
• Leon is a VERY hyper active kid. Boy is bouncing off of walls type and yelling or talking loud when overly excited. Uncle Mikey suggested that he might have ADHD like himself and often times helps mediate and teach Leon to better maintain his excited outbursts. They still happen though and Raph and Mona just love seeing the kid jump around in excitement.
• Ralphie, despite his size, is the most closed off when it comes to talking personal emotions. He doesn’t look it, especially around family since he’s such a helpful kid and always thinking of others, but he keeps a lot of personal stuff to himself.
• All the boys called Chompy ‘chomp-chomp’ while growing up and they haven’t outgrown calling him that, even at 16 years!
• Chompy is the only pet/animal that Ralphie can seem to bond with. Chompy has been there since Ralphie could sit on his back, now the teen is big enough and strong enough to pick up the alien turtle on his own like a big happy dog.
• Little Mikey often times spends meditation sessions with Sensei, Uncle Leo. It all started one afternoon in the lair when the little man walked in on one of Leo’s sessions. Leo hadn’t noticed at the time, so imagine his shock when hours later he comes out of it to a sleeping box turtle next to him. Surrounded by crayons and messy drawings.
• Danny actually developed an early code for S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. When he was tinkering with his Uncle Donnie as the older turtle was fixing up MetalHead. He wanted a robot companion of his own so that ‘hatched’ into him writing early code!
• Despite how sweet Little Mikey is he takes after his dad Raph in attitude. He’s quick to temper sometimes if you press the wrong buttons. Absolute menace.
• Ralphie on the other hand doesn’t like his angry side. He often times keeps it bottled up, which from Raph’s perspective can only make things worse. Little Mikey has the outlet of art and meditation to help combat his sharp tongue. Ralphie hasn’t really developed any safe ourself yet.
• Leon was the one to actually get he and his brothers involved in watching Lou Jitsu films. They turn into comfort films once the teens get over. The whole lair with filled with the toddlers constantly using ‘Hot Soup!!’ As a comeback for everything.
• Leon, when not around his siblings, can be found often times hanging out with Uncle Mikey. He loves spending time around the older turtle when mom and dad are busy. He especially love when his uncle is playing video games.
• Ralphie holds his tail like Mona does. A snapping turtle really shouldn’t have their own tail posed in an upwards curl or curled in general, but once Mona noticed the use of his tail she offered to help her son train is to be a personal weapon.
• Danny was the one to first ‘meet’ a girl by the name of April. He was still young when he found the penpal letter that washed into the sewers one night and he decided to be the one to reply back! He thought it was his Auntie Aprils letter so he gave it to her when she came to visit the next day. O’Neil herself decided to send the letter back to its original sender unaware that Danny had written a reply!
• Little April wasn’t aware that the letter hadn’t been sent right so she when she read the reply letter she wrote back, queue a fun back and forth of Danny learning about the topside for a few years.
• Danny and Leon are both musical freaks. Queue any ABBA song and the two immediately start dancing, Michael as well.
• the boys formally meet April on Halloween, under the guise that they’re all wearing odd turtle costumes. April herself has been keeping tabs on odd mutant/Yokai sightings so she’s actually pretty stoked when the truth gets revealed later on!
#shell shocked au#tmnt 2012#2012 tmnt#rottmnt#rottmnt/tmnt 2012#teenage mutant ninja turtles#i’ll probably add more later#love these boys#my little skrunkly
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
We Cry Together
Yeah, here's that toxic Joseph fic I was telling y'all about. It's May x Joseph in a swap!AU or Joseph in place of Ian. He's pretty shitty here - be warned. I wrote it on the fly, the grammar might be a bit sloppy and mismatched I think, cus I wrote one part before the other and forgot to edit some of them.
Tw: cheating, arguing, toxic dynamics
---
Joseph chuckled in that teasing sort of way. The kind he only used with her. May cranes her head around into their kitchen to see him sitting on the chair at their bar counter.
He looked happy...
"Yeah? ... I'd like that..." He pauses, scribbling something down on a notepad. "Okay, see you then."
He hangs up the phone and his charming glow of mischief fades once he sees May standing a ways from him. A curious yet unreadable look on her face.
"Hey, what are you doing up?" He asked.
May tilted her head, "What are you doing up?"
Joseph wet his lips, sparing a shifty glance at his phone before waving it, "Taking a call."
"From..?"
"You know um... the girl, the producer's daughter? I don't know her- I mean I know her name it just" he laughs, "leaves me."
May narrowed her eyes, "Samantha? Yeah, you've been talking about her all week, I'd hope you remembered her name."
His eyes widened at that, "Why would you... hope that?"
May doesn't answer, instead her gaze lowers to the piece of paper in his hand. Joseph's hand reflexively slides over it. She approaches without warning and pulls it from under his palm.
Dinner w/ Samantha @ 4pm
"You told me you were being called back for another shoot." May said, voice devoid of emotion, yet filled with scrutiny.
Joseph finds his voice becoming very small, "I was... Samantha just called after."
"And why does she want dinner with you of all things?"
"Because she...wants to talk about my career."
May has seen Samantha. She's met her formally at one of their studio held dinners. Or about as formal as you could get. There was talk of Joseph being a new official cast member on a tv show he'd been an extra in, with a good few speaking lines.
Samantha only ever talked to the cast members, and she looked a big young for business. Not college young. But definitely inexperienced. She radiated amateur, especially as she asked the director for a role on his show.
When May tried to formally introduce herself or speak, she had a habit of cutting her off "conveniently". And Joseph would let her...
When she looked him square in the face, the subtle swallow in his throat all but confirmed her suspicions.
The light in May's eyes leaves - she gives him a half lidded gaze. Joseph shudders at the expression. It excites him honestly, how easily she gets annoyed or agitated. It's always been a small game of theirs to him, because he knows they'd end up spooning, fucking, or just generally in a good spot again. But he's honestly a little scared. May is a good girlfriend. She takes care of him. She supports him. She loves him. He knows he doesn't deserve anyone like her, but if she could give him another chance...
He follows after as she turns to leave, probably to cry, "Rosie, listen." He used her nickname, and he couldn't even get the usual response of playful annoyance.
"Get out." She said, cold and prompt.
"Get out?- May listen to me."
She turns to him with her same expression, only her eyes are wet. He hates the part of him in his body that says "gotcha". He's thinking about all the right words to schmooze her over and make her his again. He knows he's not being fair or nice or good, but all he can think of is making sure she stays hooked.
Joseph takes a gentle hold of her wrists with his hands, a silent plea to stay put and then he ran them up her arms, resisting a smirk at her goosebumps. He puts on a mournful expression when he meets her eyes. The half-lidded and lightless expression is the same, but they aren't cold like at first. They're misty and dim, like a humid April day, when you just know it's about to rain.
"Listen to me..." he began, his voice is lowered for only the two of them to hear, despite them being the only ones in the room. "This wasn't for anything personal. It was only for me."
May furrowed her brows, pulling away from him.
Wrong answer.
"What the hell does that mean?"
"What I mean is like, she doesn't mean anything. It's just for the job."
"So you were willing to fuck a bitch over your job?" May spat, "Did the fact that you have a girlfriend ever occur to you?"
Joseph was beginning to get exasperated. He looked up at the ceiling and rolled his eyes.
"May, you know I'm loyal to you. Honestly, my very word should be enough as well as like, what- over five years of commitment?"
"So you think that gives you a pass to fuck another woman? You've been so fucking good you should just have access to other bitches as a treat?"
"Stop calling her a bitch, May, it's tacky and you've barely talked to her." Joseph snapped back, "and I mean that it shouldn't matter. I mean, I love you and you know it!"
"No, no I don't. Because if you loved me you'd know me and know I don't fucking share!" Her voice cracked as she spoke, "I don't care if it's for your job or your dying granny or anything, Joseph Cullman, you know that the very idea of even touching another woman should be off-limits when you're with me!"
Joseph then laughs. May narrowed her eyes, expecting him to fill her in on the 'joke'.
"You know, I really think you're the last person to be saying that."
He seemed satisfied to see she was stunned - something that didn't come often with her. But it came with women. Women he'd argued with, and when they were in that state they often out of an argument. He took that as his cue to head into their room.
---
When Joseph woke up, May wasn't there with him. He gripped the sheet under him, feeling something cold in his chest at the absence of her. Maybe she'd already gone to work?
He sat up with a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd have to apologize. He knows he would. Otherwise she'd ice him out for a whole month, especially with what he had to do. It wasn't personal at all, really. But he felt a weird territorial urge to defend his keep, if that was what he was calling it. He knew Samantha liked him, but he only was going to entertain her for the role on the show. Maybe he would've rather gotten it honestly, but when he and May were living off of takeout on her salary, there wasn't any time for that.
He wanted to get something his way. And it wasn't like May was some angel, neither. She had all the money a girl could ask for, and the girls boyfriends she screwed back in high school certainly didn't add to any of that. At least he's trying to do something for them. It just happened to be in a kind of shitty takeaway. Maybe if people actually did their jobs the way they were supposed to, he would have a better chance of climbing the ladder.
But it was time to do business - Hollywood's way.
---
It went about as well as he'd hoped. As expected, going to bed with her wasn't ideal. But hell, she was fun at most. Good looking at least. Not exactly up to his standards. But it made him feel prideful on the fact that after all that, he'd be getting what he paid for. It feels a bit like college.
He snickered at the thought.
He tossed the dinner receipt in a random trash can way before driving home.
As he pulled up to the parking lot in the apartment, he saw a moving van. Something in his chest dropped at that, and he didn't even know why. Could she have..?
As he got out of the car he got a good look at the movers coming out from the back of the doors. They were carrying boxes full of boots, belts, tees, and dirty magazines. His heart raced. He came up behind one of the men and pulled him aside.
"Hey, who's boxes are those?"
The man shrugged, "Some girls' ex-boyfriend's things."
Joseph's eyes widened as he looked up at the apartment window where their room would be. He could see May's silhouette and her dark fingers holding the curtains before they shut.
He pointed at the movers, "Don't move another inch, don't move!" Before running up into the apartment.
He hissed multiple curses as he dug inside of his jeans, searching for his keys that seemed to be nowhere, conveniently. After what felt like an hour he finally produced them and wasted no time going in.
Inside was could only be described as a bad dream realized. Movers were taking down every trace of him in his apartment. His suggested decorations, his pictures, his clothes, his old playbooks. All of them being packed up and shipped away in boxes.
And May was in the middle of all of it, advising them like she were the director of her own fucking movie set while smoking a fucking cigarette - something she said she always hated, and continued to do until she quit.
When she finally paid mind to him she sneered. Joseph folded his arms, giving her an expectant look.
Tell them to leave.
May took a long drag of the cigarette, before blowing the smoke his way. He stroke towards her and pulled her by her wrist into a corner. She tried to flick the cigarette ash on him, but he shook her arm so she'd drop it before he stamped it out. May grimaced at the now ruined part of her carpet.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Joseph hissed.
"What do you think?"
"I think you're messing up our life, that's what."
May shoved him in the chest roughly, "And where the fuck did you come from, huh? What'd you do to make it better - tell me!"
Joseph glanced around at the movers, some of them were glancing their way, but it didn't matter much to them. This was actually one of the common occurrences for when they did a job.
He got close and stopped her hands before she tried to hit him again, "Keep your voice down." Joseph growled.
"Why? You were so sure of yourself last night. I bet you feel real good now, don't you?"
"Shut up-"
"You fucked that bitch didn't you?" She sneered.
He pushed her up against the corner, his nails digging into her wrists with their harsh hold.
She jerked in his grip, "Let go!"
One of the movers approached them, "Hey, hey man, that's enough."
Joseph's eyes were full of white hot rage as he pointed at him with his free hand. "Don't fuck with me, get the fuck back."
"What you gonna do, hit me?" May said suddenly.
"Shut up."
She jerked away, "So, for what? So you can hit me when they ain't looking?"
"Nobody's gonna fucking hit you!" Joseph hissed.
"But you want to though," May pushed, "You wanna fucking hit me because I'm exposing you for a selfish fucking bastard-"
"May!"
"- who wanna fuck a random bitch to feel like a man, can't even act for shit so you hoe yourself out-"
"What the hell do you want from me, huh?!" His voice boomed throughout the apartment, startling the rest of the movers. May even stopped. When she didn't reply, Joseph continued, "I already do so. Damn. Much for you! I clean the house when you're at work, I cook because you don't know how! And you would deny me the opportunity to actually take care of us?"
"So I fuck some girl to keep the lights on, it isn't the first time I've done it either." May's eyes widened at that, "Yeah, I did that shit for us. And they still didn't mean shit to me! I believe just this once I should be allowed to make us some actual money instead of living off your shitty yogurt salary!"
After that, it fell deathly quiet. So much so, one could only hear the whirring of the ceiling fan.
By this point, Joseph already knew he didn't have a spot in the apartment anymore. But he refused to be perturbed, even as May's eyes welled up with tears or one of the movers began to dial 911. He simply folded his arms, looking his soon-to-be ex dead in the face.
"Well... If I'm not doing enough then you can take yourself somewhere you don't have to slum off my mediocre salary." May said, her voice cracking. Only then Joseph's gaze softened, but he had enough sense not to argue or plead or beg, then he allowed himself to leave.
#somethings wrong with sunny day jack#sunny day jack fanfiction#sunny day jack#sdj joseph x reader#sdj joseph#sdj x mc#canon x oc#Joseph Cullman x oc#Ch: May-Rose#original character#black oc#sunny day jack x mc#my fics
19 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey there! :) Do you happen to know what was Lafayette's opinion on Robespierre as a person and/or as a member of the National Assembly? Did he left any declaration in his memoirs? As far as I know, their different political views led them sometimes into arguments and slanders.
Have a nice day!
Dear @faxelange,
in short, they were not on the best of terms – not at all. The disfavour was mutual as neither Robespierre liked La Fayette nor did La Fayette liked Robespierre.
Despite this, there is not nearly as much commentary on Robespierre in La Fayette’s letters and Memoirs as one might expect. The references that are made are mostly general statements about Robespierre and not specific about their relationship. Generally speaking, La Fayette wrote in his Memoirs about what he thought valuable for his readers and important to mention. I think he judged his disagreements with Robespierre and Robespierre in general, at the point of him writing his Memoirs (1830s), as simply no longer important. It would be easier to give a detailed description of Robespierre’s opinion of La Fayette than the other way around since we have many statements by Robespierre.
The relationship between Robespierre and La Fayette was during the first years of the Revolution civil, or better, nonexistent. Things changed when La Fayette wrote on June 16, 1791 a lengthy letter to the Legislative Assembly, criticizing political groups as a potential thread to the constitution and the stability of France – the jacobins were here his primary target.
Although he railed against factionalism of all varieties, the Jacobins were his primary target. “Organized like a separate empire … blindly controlled by a few ambitious leaders,” the Jacobins were, as he put it, a “sect,” a “distinct corporation in the middle of the French people, whose powers they usurp by subjugating their representatives.” Read into the record two days later and republished in newspapers of every political stripe, the letter generated heated debate.
Laura Auricchio, The Marquis – Lafayette Reconsidered, Vintage Books, New York, 2015, p. 258.
Two days later during a meeting of the jacobins, Robespierre stated:
Strike down Lafayette and the nation is saved.
Laura Auricchio, The Marquis – Lafayette Reconsidered, Vintage Books, New York, 2015, p. 259.
Things went downhill rather quickly after that.
In La Fayette memoirs there are two mentioning’s of Robespierre, both are rather indirect, as they detail public attacks of La Fayette’s character that Robespierre had some connection with.
It would occupy too much space to detail all the hostilities of the anarchists against Lafayette; their defamations in the Patriot and the Chronicle were pushed to the most insane excess. Robespierre attacked him at the jacobins, first requiring that he should not be called upon to prove what he advanced. The club itself formally denounced him at the bar of the assembly, by the mouth of Collot d’Herbois. Some members of this faction alleged as proofs of his criminality certain letters, which, when read, were received with patriotic applause.
Marquis de La Fayette, Memoirs, Correspondences and Manuscripts of General Lafayette, Vol. 3, Craighead and Allen, New York, 1837, pp. 336-337.
We can see very clearly in this passage that La Fayette’s problem was not with Robespierre alone and while this excerpt gives seemingly more insight into Robespierre’s opinion of La Fayette, the way the event is retold also tells us a lot about La Fayette’s opinion.
The second part is from a letter that La Fayette wrote his wife Adrienne on April 18, 1792:
Parties are at present divided in this manner [the question of war]. Robespierre, Danton, Desmoulins, &c., &c., form the jacobin sink. These puppets are moved behind the scene, and serve the court by disorganizing all things, by exclaiming that we are beaten without resource and by attacking Lafayette, “who has deceived, they say, the people and the court, guided the conduct of the far less culpable M. de Bouillé, and who is more dangerous himself than the aristocracy.” (…) The other party, called the high jacobins, and which supports the present ministry, is composed of Bordelais, the abbé Sièyes, Condorcet, Roederer, &c. These men hate and fear Robespierre, but dare not render themselves unpopular.
Marquis de La Fayette, Memoirs, Correspondences and Manuscripts of General Lafayette, Vol. 3, Craighead and Allen, New York, 1837, pp. 411-412.
Again, La Fayette was not only in disagreement with Robespierre. Today Robespierre is often presented as the one and only embodiment of the Jacobins but there were many more and yes, Robespierre was certainly even back then a prominent and influential member, but La Fayette’s disagreements were with the jacobins as a whole as much as with Robespierre personally.
Perhaps it is easier to dissect La Fayette’s opinion based on what he did not thought about Robespierre. In the letter to his wife that is already quoted above, La Fayette also wrote:
Such is my situation: I belong, as I wrote before to you, to no party except to that of the French nation; but my friends and I will serve whoever will do good, defend liberty and equality, and maintain the constitution by repulsing everything tending to render it aristocratic or republican; and when the national will, expressed by the representatives chosen by nation and by the king, shall tell us that war is inevitable, I will do all that lies in my power to promote its success.
Marquis de La Fayette, Memoirs, Correspondences and Manuscripts of General Lafayette, Vol. 3, Craighead and Allen, New York, 1837, p. 413.
These were the things that La Fayette supported and believed in, this was his agenda. In not agreeing with Robespierre, we can assume that La Fayette felt as if Robespierre did not meet his principles. Another point is raised in this statement:
(…) by repulsing everything tending to render it aristocratic or republican (…).
Robespierre was without a question on the republican side.
This was all quite political but since La Fayette saw political opinions as the expression of underlaying principles, a political disagreement was often, not always though, also a personal disagreement, although things did not usually escalate like they did with Robespierre.
I hope this cleared things up a bit and I hope you have/had a lovely day!
#ask me anything#marquis de lafayette#la fayette#maximilien robespierre#french history#american history#letter#french revolution#history#1792#faxelange#adrienne de lafayette#adrienne de noailles#1791
34 notes
·
View notes
Text
Aquila's Fic Masterpost!
Here's a quick reference to all of my Dreamling fic!
Writing tag: #aquila writes
Ananke, God of Compulsion | Mature | Incomplete | 11,002 words
Lieutenant Hob Gadling is planning on deserting before his deployment. He has everything planned from faking his death to getting to the US. However, a wrench is thrown into his plan when Captain Morpheus Endeleas asks him to be his assistant for the week leading up to the company’s deployment. Now under close watch by a man Hob thinks despises him, he cannot escape his duty. What will come from a week working closely with Cpt. Endeleas?
Hold Me Closer | Teen | Complete | 26,471 words
Fluffbruary 2023 prompts! Just some soft and happy dreamlings because I can't hit them with a hammer all the time.
Smapril Showers Bring Smutty Flowers | Explicit | Incomplete | 7, 148 words
Smapril 2023 fills, prompts by staroftheendless
A variety show of Dreamling smut, in whatever universes come to mind.
Dreamling Bingo Fills
Watching You Dance | Explicit | Complete | 347 words
Hob has a side job as a stripper. He invites Dream to come watch him, knowing that his boyfriend's possessive streak will be activated when he's surrounded by the lustful daydreams of the patrons.
2023 Dreamling Bingo Fill for #DB215 square E5: Stripping
Smapril Day 3 Prompts: Possessive | "Come over here."
Earl Grey, or: the Tiny Grey Cat | General Audiences | Complete | 768 words
Dream ends up in Hob's flat a bit before the man actually arrives, and meets a new addition to Hob's living space: a kitten! The King of Cats talks to the young kitten and finds out that children of all kinds are poor keepers of their caregivers' secrets. When Hob arrives, Dream and the kitten are formally introduced and Dream is forced to relax for once in his life.
Dreamling Bingo 2023 fill for #DB215 April Monthly Prompt: Adoption replacing Square E4
Ain't Nothin' but Mammals | Explicit | Complete | 1,121 words
Dream arrives at Hob's apartment to say hello, but finds himself aurally assaulted by raunchy music. He learns that this is Hob's chore playlist, finding him dusting in the bedroom. Dream has no interest in doing chores, but does want to do Hob. Thanks, Bloodhound Gang!!
Dreamling Bingo 2023 fill for #DB215 Square B2: Bestiality
NB: No actual bestiality in this fic, not even discussion of the act. (See notes!)
Swashbuckling Fantasie | Teen | Incomplete | 1,344 words
Boatswain Hob Gadling is a pirate obsessed with a different kind of treasure: stories. He goes looking for fantastical tales at every port and bothers his crewmates daily for them. When he is told of a merman who lives in a dreamlike cove who is the greatest storyteller ever, he has no choice but to seek him out. He meets this mysterious man who transports Hob to a realm of his own, where Hob can seek out new adventures and create a story of his own. But between the adventures and Hob's persistence, this misanthropic merman begins to see humans in a new light, falling deeper and deeper for his pirate.
Chapter 1 fulfills the Dreamling Bingo Monthly Prompt "MerMay," replacing #DB215 Square E1: Rape/Non-con!
I just really, desperately want to be your next poor decision | General Audiences | Complete | 210 words
Dream asks why Hob has done everything he has done in the interim since 1889. Hob tells him and makes a (what he deems) subtle love confession.
Dreamling Bingo 2023 fill for #DB215 June Monthly Prompt: "Why did you do it?" replacing Square E3: Stargate
Hunger for the Blade | Explicit | Complete | 1,535 words
Hob had thought it would be a good idea to ask Dream to spar during their weekly Dreaming date night.
How hard could it be, he’d thought. I have centuries of experience.
What he’d forgotten, he’s now learning, is that his lover has millennia of experience. That he contains every single swordsman’s dreams since swords were invented on top of the glut of fictional swordplay. That had been his first mistake.
His second was the bet they’d made: the winner gets to have the loser in whatever way they’d like.
--
Or, a sparring match turns into a very messy blowjob.
Dreamling Bingo 2023 fill for #DB215 Square E2: Knife Play
36 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi I loved yours I saw your player headcanons that are part of the addams x rottmnt family so I was wondering if you could make a reader that is part of the addams x tmnt family 2012 (separate)
A/n: thank you for requesting and because you said turtle family I'm adding splinter if you don't mind
Summary:your part of the Adam's family snd dating the turtle family
Version:2012
Leonardo
At first he would be confused on why your so calm
Like most humans he meets are not calm but when the ones that were still aren't as calm as you
And he's also worried about your dark undereye circles
When he heard the jokes you made he let out a big gasp before running over to you
He covered your mouth and leaned into you
He told you not to joke like that around splinter or you might die
And when he met your family he was super nice
A bit shocked
Raphael
He found you funny
He loves your jokes but warned you about saying one in front of splinter
It wouldn't be good
He likes how calm you are
It makes him calm
He wonders about the dark circles under your eyes but Donnie also has them so he figured it had something to do with sleep
He likes how you dress and will steal your clothes if they fit
When he met your family he wasn't trying to impress them
Just being him
Which it seemed they didn't mind
Donatello
He was glad he wasn't the only one that has the dark circles under his eyes
So he was happy to see you have them to
He also loved how calm you are
It gives him a calm sense of mind
Same with rise Donnie he likes you there with him so he doesn't feel alone and/or stressed
He also is worried about your jokes
Not because their really dark jokes but because splinter is strict on that stuff
Like he loves you but if you say that infront of splinter he's not helping you
He'll run
And he loves your family, their calm like you, their not crazy like his brothers well their crazy but in a calm way
Michelangelo
He doesn't really like how calm you are
Mainly because your calmness makes him nervous because you don't really smile and always have the same look on your face
It makes him think he's in trouble or you don't like what he's showing you and/or talking about
But he finds your jokes a bit funny
And like all his brothers he warned you about telling that infront of splinter
And he knows the hard way that's why all his brothers told you not to say dark jokes around splinter because mikey did
But other than that he loves everything about you besides your dark undereye
He knows you don't sleep much
When he met your family he was super excited and he could tell you were exactly like them
He had a blast
Splinter
He helps you with your sleeping problems
Even though you said it was fine he had to help you since he could tell ypu don't get enough sleep
He also loves how calm you are especially because he deals with his sons all day
So it's a nice change
When you said a dark joke infront of him everyone went quiet but mikey was the first to
No one made a sound but you and splinter just stared at eachother
He just signed and hit you in the head with his stick
Everyone besides April and Casey were shocked like they were in disbelief
When he met your family he was formal about it
And no he didn't try and disguise himself
But they all seemed to love him
A/n: so new character and I'm gonna start changing the first letter in their name. I hope you enjoyed
#tmnt#tmnt donatello#tmnt raphael#tmnt imagine#tmnt leonardo#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt x male reader#tmnt headcanons#tmnt x reader#teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012#tmnt 2012 x reader#tmnt 2012 x male reader#tmnt 2012#tmnt splinter
200 notes
·
View notes
Text
System Introduction
Hello, we're the Kazan World! We're an adaptive neurogenic system with a varying member count. Welcome to our blog! Our vision when starting this is to have a place to infodump about our system lore, and trust me, it goes deep.
To start, though, here's a simple introduction to who we are! We joined the plural community in November 29, 2020, though we've been a system for much longer. We'll go more in depth about our system origins at a later post. We're bodily 19, born in Brazil, transmasc, and collectively autistic with a special interest in geography.
We only include non-dormant members into our numbers count, though it typically varies somewhere between 15-50 active members. At the time of writing this post, our count is 18. We're introject-heavy and have members from various sources, mainly from anime. However, there are two groups you'll see most often: the host's family and our Hetalia introjects.
------------------------------------------------------------
Host's family
(also sometimes known as Kazan Family)
Niko - (they/them): We call them the host, but our definition isn't the typical one. They're a personification of our collective identity/singletsona, and also serve as a leadership figure in our system. The rest of the family sorta branched out from that initial identity (though we don't consider ourselves median), and now are the younger siblings of the host.
Nile - (she/they): Niko's twin and a former persecutor. She formed in mid 2019 at a time when our body had depression, and regularly acted out against the system since then. They took some time in isolation and only formally rejoined our system at the start of this year.
Angel - (fluid pronouns): Caretaker and former protector. It followed a similar story as the above, though in different ways. Angel and Nile used to see each other as enemies, but now they've become much closer.
Migi - (she/they): Originated as a concept of right brain. She emerged in February 2020 along with Hidari, and has always been one of the most regularly active headmates. They used to be an emotion holder.
Hidari - (any pronouns): Emerged in February 2020 along with Migi, as the equivalent concept of left brain. She finds pleasure in performing tasks, following orders and helping the system with organization.
Mica - (they/them): Memorygenic, the youngest of the family, and a big fan of Undertale.
Isav - (he/him): Memorygenic and a former host. He helped kickstart our special interest back in April 2021, and became the host for a sidesystem that eventually overtook the main system. Also very homosexual.
------------------------------------------------------------
Hetalia Introjects
Introjects from the anime Hetalia. They're personifications of countries and have exomemories based on the manga plus real historical events. We'd love to meet more people who know the source to be friends with, but please avoid questions relating to heavy events unless we willingly bring it up first. We have loads of introjects from the source, but here are a few who front most often:
Alfred/America - (he/him)
Arthur/England - (he/him)
Japan - (he/him)
China - (any pronouns)
Veneziano - (he/him)
Romano - (he/him)
------------------------------------------------------------
And that's it, it's nice to meet you all! Don't be shy to ask questions about our system, we love answering them ^^ Until next time 👋
#plurality#plural system#endo friendly#endo safe#pro endogenic#system intro#actually plural#neurogenic system#adaptive system
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Every Breath You Take
Violet Bridgerton II x Edward Becker (OC) Love Story
Chapter 2: Hope to Hopeless
FOUR YEARS LATER
April 1842
The summer of 1838 had lived long in Edward’s memory, everytime he had stopped at My Cottage in the intervening four years he had longed for another glimpse of Violet, to be introduced to her formally, but he had been unsuccessful.
She had started spending more time at Romney Hall, the Parsonage or even in London with the Viscount and Viscountess so he had not had the pleasure of meeting her but following their brief meeting, he found it easier to speak to Will about his sister.
When she wrote to him at Eton, Edward had started asking what Violet was up to, asking more questions and enquiring into his best friends sister and thankfully William had not really thought that his friend was harbouring a crush on his sister, or at least he had managed to hide it until Edward had asked when his sister was planning on debuting in Society.
“Why are you asking? Are… are you interested in my sister?” William had asked, his brow raised in an amusing joke figuring it was just a joke as he looked at his best friend over his music sheets. Edward had come to visit him at his lodgings at the Royal Academy of Music and William had been packing his things for the end of term and relocating to Bridgerton House where he would be watching his sister’s season unfold.
He had witnessed Charlotte’s debut and season alongside Edward, watching Edmund and Miles attempt to scare off any suitors and there was no way he was going to miss Charlie and Alex attempting to meddle in his sister’s debut season.
He had suspected that Edward had been disappointed last season but he had not realised it was because Violet had not debuted at 17 as was the norm but William had explained their father had had a meltdown at the thought of his daughter debuting and because Charlotte had waited until she was 18, though it had been so she and Violet could have debuted together.
His father and Uncle had put their foot down and said Violet could debut when she was 18 as was the Bridgerton custom so Violet was forced to wait and therefore Edward had to wait.
“I was merely curious” he lied but he felt his cheeks burning giving him away and he saw William’s face light up
“You are interested in Vivi!!” he practically yelled, his voice full of glee and joy as he lowered the music in his hands and burst out laughing.
“It’s not a laughing matter,” Edward said grumpily, crossing his arms over his chest. “I was merely curious as to if she was going to be debuting as I’d like to get to know her more…” he said. It was mostly true. He did want to get to know her better but he did have an ulterior motive, he might only be 20 but his father was close to his 60’s now and he knew it would not be long before his father would either arrange a marriage for him with some horrific woman or would die and leave the title to him and expectations would be on him to marry and he’d have every society mama throwing their daughter at him much like his sister’s had to bare a few years earlier when it was their debuts.
If he could get to know Violet, court her, he could marry her before his father had a chance to either die or marry him off… She was his choice and he had been flawed by her beauty at 14 and seeing her miniatures that William carried that had been painted by her father, he knew without a doubt there would be a queue of men lining up around the ton to have her hand and he wanted to get in there first.
William snorted “Ed, i’ve known you for nearly 10 years, you are a diabolical card player because you cannot lie… I know your “tell”, so be honest with me… and i’ll help you”
“You will?” he asked, blinking in shock, he’d expected to get the stuffing punched out of him as it was almost like an unwritten commandment “thy shalt not covet thy best friends baby sister”
“Well, Charlie and Alex’s friends are all foozlers and imbeciles so there is no way I want Vivi marrying one of them… so if she can marry my best friend, then I can rub it in my brother’s face that I have the better friends and I know you’d never actually do anything to hurt her and if you did i know i’d beat you in a fight” William laughed.
“You wouldn’t” Edward grumbled
“Unless it was a fencing match then i’d agree with you but boxing is not your strong point” William pointed out
“It is not yours either”
“No but I am better at it than you and Charlie is built like my Uncle Phil so even if i didn’t… Charlie would murder you… and Alex would kick your arse and get away with it as he is friends with the Prince Consort”
Edward sighed “very well, you are right there. And yes, I may harbour a small affection for your sister and have done for some time. I wish to try and find a wife before my father tries to pair me off with one of his boorish friend’s daughter’s…” he had to pause and chuckle as William shuddered at the thought on his behalf.
“Not the smythe-smith girls”
“Or worse… he knows the Finch’s through a business connection and threatened their daughter’s on me when I was younger so I'd not put it past him to do it now” he said with a shudder.
“Well when we get to London i am sure I can throw in a good word for you with her” William said honestly “I know my father and brother’s aren’t keen on Vivi making her debut and Charlie and Alex were planning to be basically her guards but I’m sure the have learned from Neddy’s mistakes with Lottie last year…”
Edward shuddered “I heard about that, she was rather furious with her brother”
“I’ve never seen her like that, even after David and Alex accidentally set fire to her favourite doll…” William sighed “but back to my point if you want me to speak to her for you..”
“No, don’t say anything to her please, i’m not sure how it would come across having you basically selling me to your sister. I’d rather try my luck first, but if you could introduce us that would be…” Edward said but he was cut off by a knock at the door.
“Yes?” William said to his door and the doorman to the lodgings appeared
“Beggin’ your pardon Master Bridgerton but there was a messenger here looking for the Viscount, it was urgent and he’s waiting for a reply” he said holding out a note and Edward looked confused as he looked down at it, his sister’s scrawl on the front of the letter.
He had only popped over to William’s lodgings for a few hours and he’d planned to return to Somerhouse, so he didn’t see how anything could be that urgent but as he opened the letter his heart sunk.
Becker House
Somerset
Edward,
I am sorry to write to you in such haste and interrupt your plans for the season but we need you to return to Somerset with all haste.
Your Mama has taken poorly and is confined to her bed and the doctors are telling us the prognosis is not good.
Please hurry and return home. Your sister is close to being confined to her rooms with the baby so she cannot do too much and I worry about them.
Your Father has disappeared into his rooms and Louisa is in America and I’ve sent a letter but it will be at least two months before she will return and I know it will give your mother great comfort and Jane will need all the help she can get with the babe and your mother.
I’ve requested the messenger wait for a reply so I can request the servants sort things for your return.
Your sincere friend and brother in law,
The Honourable
George Spencer
Edward’s heart stopped as he read the words, his mother, the paper fell from his hands as the colour drained from his face, “good god Ed what is wrong?” William asked, worry etched all over his face as he picked up the letter and read it quickly and swore which caused Edward to jump and remember what he had read,
“I’ve got to go” he said, looking haunted
“I’ll come with you” William said but Edward protested “no, i’ll come to Somerhouse with you, make sure you’re okay and I can write to George so you can pack and be on the road quicker”
Edward nodded, knowing it was fruitless to argue but as he climbed into the carriage three hours later, heading out of London and heading home, he was grateful for his friend’s help but he couldn’t help but be afraid for two reasons, was he going to lose his mother, or missing his chance with Violet…
He had to hope no one swooped in and stole her heart before he had a chance to meet her, and he had to hope his friend kept his word and not say a thing to his sister…
But as the darkness fell around the carriage, he felt like hope was nothing but a heartache waiting to happen…
#bridgerton#bridgerton next generation#benophie next generation#violet bridgerton ii#benophie next gen#ash writes#william bridgerton
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Spiderverse readers file
Name: y/n l/n
Age: 18
Personality: stubborn and cold upon first meeting
Universe: 2067
Universe description: universe 67 is a criminally ruled universe filled with tragedy and poverty. The universe is ruled over by different gangs that constantly have wars between themselves for power. New York is currently ruled over by a gang called ‘wildhounds’ who are a cruel and violent gang.
Universe danger level; medium
Spider-Man of that universe: Pierce Parker
Role in universe: love interest to Spider-Man
Involvement with Spider-Man: present in three canon events of Spider-Man’s
Mother: Elizabeth ‘Lizzy’ l/n (deceased)
Father: Wayne l/n (deceased)
Current guardian: Patrick l/n (grandfather)
Stats:
Strength: 3/5
Intelligence: 4/5
Loyalty: 5/5
Social skills: 2/5
Dexterity: 3/5
Weapon handling: 4/5
Cooperation with spiderpeople: 2/5
Health:
Extensive physical injuries:
Broken nose x 2- set back in place 2-3 hours after initial break
Bullet wound x 1- didn’t hit any vital organs and bullet went straight through, healed without complications and left small scar
Diagnosed concussions x 2
Family history:
Father- asthma
Mother-hypertension, postpartum depression
Brother- generalised anxiety disorder
Positive family history of hypertension but negative for diabetes and cancer
Social behaviours:
Damage to the lungs from inhaling smoke, could be from smoking or poor living conditions
Social drinker, 5-6 glasses of hard liquor on weekends
Physically active- participants regularly in gym activities and occasional jog
Psych eval- suffers from occasional depressive episode, no formal diagnosis
Sexually actively- unknown
Sexual history- unknown
Medications past/present:
Fluoxetine 20mg twice a day- depression- discontinuation on April 20th
Amoxicillin 625mg- infection
Paracetamol 1000mg- pain
Personal notes:
Flinches at sudden movements (flagged)
Organ donor card found on person
Depressive episodes last 2-3 weeks depending on situation
Has slight iron deficiency
Will refuse to eat during depressive episodes
Refuses psych diagnosis
Psych recommends counselling to find root of distrustful attitude
Has donated blood before
Current situation
Y/n l/n is currently being held in universe 2099 after an anomaly placed them there by mistake and put a portal locking device on which doesn’t allow for them to go home
Feelings on current situation: extremely displeased
Current relationships with spiderpeople:
Gwen Stacy- friends?
Hobie brown- one sided friendship on hobies part, possibly more
Miles morales- friends?
Pavitr- friends? Seems to enjoy his company
Peter Parker- acquaintances, Peter is trying to build a bond but y/n is resistant
Miguel O’Hara- disliked by y/n, trying to build a bond and be a father figure but y/n is resistant
Personal notes:
Seems happiest when they are able to watch their universe through the inter dimensional screens
Extremely resistant to building bonds with spiderpeople and tends to shut themselves away
Is not afraid to speak their mind
Has fought against spiderpeople for many reasons
Asked for cigarettes once but it is unknown if it was for them or another person, hasn’t asked again since Miguel refused the request
———————————————————————
“How does he have all this information on me?” You question Hobie while continuing to read the screen as he lounges lazily on Miguel’s desk before the boss decided to return.
“Creepy innit” Hobie chuckles as he reads the screen as well “s’not even accurate”
“Seems it” you say distracted as your mind continues to process the information they have stored on you
“Nah” Hobie says as he points at one part of the screen “says one sided friendship here”
“Yeah, and?” You say as you look at him with a raised brow
“S’not true, is it” Hobie says with a nonchalant shrug
“Actually, it pretty much sums us up pretty well” you say deadpan
“Nah, you love me really” he says as he swings an arm around your shoulders
“Sure” you say with an exhausted sigh as you brush his hands away from your shoulders before closing the screen and exiting Miguel’s office
“Where you off to?” Hobie calls after you but you don’t even turn around and you continue to walk in the opposite direction
“I’m gonna smash the camera in the housing units kitchen and the one in front of my door” you shout back “so he can’t spy on me and get any more information on me”
Hobie just shrugs as he puts his hands in his jacket pockets and nonchalantly strolls in the direction you went. You could smash all the cameras you want, it wouldn’t make a difference
Not unless you found the ones they hid in your bedroom.
#hobie spiderverse#spider punk#miguel spiderverse#spiderverse 2#spiderverse imagine#miguel spiderman#yandere spiderverse#yandere spiderverse x reader#across the spiderverse#spiderman#spiderverse x reader#into the spider verse#hobie brown x reader#yandere hobie brown#gwen stacy x reader#yandere gwen stacy x reader#yandere miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o'hara x reader#yandere peter parker x reader#yandere peter b parker#yandere miles morales#miles morales x reader#platonic yandere#platonic yandere x reader#x reader#x y/n
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
A police force was explicitly warned of a double murder by one victim days in advance, an official chronology obtained by the BBC shows.
Katie Higton and Steven Harnett were stabbed to death by Ms Higton's ex-partner Marcus Osborne at her home in Huddersfield on 15 May 2023.
Four days earlier, Ms Higton told West Yorkshire Police she feared Osborne would "seriously hurt or kill" her.
The force says "thorough reviews of the offences are being carried out".
The murder was reported at the very moment professionals were holding an urgent meeting to discuss the fears raised by Ms Higton, 27, and how to protect her and her four children.
Osborne, 34, has pleaded guilty to murder and other offences and sentencing at Leeds Crown Court is due to begin later.
The hearing comes a week after BBC Two's Newsnight reported that mothers of murder and manslaughter victims had accused West Yorkshire Police of failing to protect their children who had sought the force's help.
Newsnight's report said nine women in total had raised fears for their safety - and it can now be revealed that one of them was Ms Higton. Last week, in response to Newsnight, the force said it had since "implemented recommendations" and provided training to staff.
Police force 'failed' women who were killed
Because of Osborne's guilty plea, there has been no criminal trial. The detail of events leading up to the murder of Ms Higton and Mr Harnett can only be reported because the BBC obtained the official chronology.
The BBC has been through several court hearings, including the High Court, to be able to report this information.
Prof Jane Monckton Smith, a criminologist and expert in domestic homicide, said when she first saw the chronology: "The hairs on my neck stood up."
Even with the limited information available, she said she could see that Osborne "ticked every box" as an imminent domestic homicide risk because he had a history of coercive controlling behaviour and domestic violence, and had made specific threats.
'Kill us both'
Friends described Ms Higton as "bubbly", "fun" and a "great mum" to her four children.
She had been in a relationship with Osborne for several years, but left him in late April 2023. She was back in the family house without him by 11 May, at Harpe Inge - the main road in a 1950s council estate to the east of Huddersfield town centre.
On that day, she went to make a formal statement to West Yorkshire Police at the local station in Huddersfield. She told officers that on the previous day, she had spoken to Osborne and he had refused to accept they had broken up for good.
Ms Higton reported to the police that Osborne had hurt her and said he would "slit mine and the children's throats" if she told anyone "what he was like", according to the chronology. She felt he would "look for me and seriously hurt or kill me" if she did not go back to him.
Osborne had been jailed for violent offences against previous partners. Ms Higton herself had been the victim of abuse in a previous relationship.
She told police that Osborne had warned that if she got another boyfriend, "he will kill us both".
Prof Monckton Smith has drawn up a "homicide timeline" based on her research into cases of domestic violence. She said Osborne was at "stage seven" of the timeline - the step before murder.
After reading about the case, she said: "I was horrified and deeply, deeply sad that all the signs were there."
The day after Ms Higton went to the police, on Friday 12 May, a social worker from Kirklees Council contacted her to offer "services" which she declined, the chronology shows. It is not stated what services these were - she might have been offered a place in a refuge, for instance.
Ms Higton agreed that she and the children would spend the weekend with relatives.
Police then arrested Osborne but released him shortly afterwards. He was served with a domestic violence protection notice, which meant he was not permitted to contact Ms Higton directly or indirectly or attend certain addresses and would be arrested if he breached these conditions.
Prof Monckton Smith said that in such circumstances, a domestic violence protection notice can escalate the risk instead of reducing it.
She believes police should have sought to detain Osborne, rather than arresting and releasing him. She also argues police need more powers to detain people who are "quite uniquely dangerous".
The following day, Sunday 14 May, Ms Higton went to the cinema with Mr Harnett, 25, whom she had recently met. She posted a photo of herself on social media. When they returned together to Harpe Inge, Osborne attacked them.
It was a "planned" attack that lasted "several hours", said Judge Guy Kearl KC, who presided when Osborne pleaded guilty on 5 July 2023. According to police, Osborne had attacked Ms Higton and Mr Harnett with a "bladed weapon" and also assaulted another adult at the home.
The next morning, Monday 15 May, professionals from police, the local authority and other agencies gathered to discuss the domestic abuse and threats reported by Ms Higton three days previously. This was an "urgent" meeting, according to the official record.
It was interrupted by a phone call to a police officer reporting the murder. The officer told the meeting that "a live and very serious domestic violence incident was taking place at the home address".
Police and paramedics had been called and found the bodies at the Harpe Inge home. Osborne was arrested later that day.
Last summer West Yorkshire Police acknowledged it had had contact with the victims prior to the attack and, as required, the force had reported itself to the Independent Office for Police Conduct (IOPC).
The IOPC said at the time this was a case in which the local force should carry out its own investigation and the IOPC would review it.
West Yorkshire Police said the IPOC had requested further inquiries which are now being carried out by the force's Professional Standards Directorate and it cannot comment further at this stage.
In a statement, the IOPC said the murders had caused "considerable concern" and that its thoughts were with the families of Ms Higton and Mr Harnett. The statement added that the IOPC's work was "ongoing" and that it would provide a response "as soon as we are in a position to do so".
The force said the murders of Ms Higton and Mr Harnett were "truly dreadful crimes".
If you have been affected by any of the issues in this story, information and support is available via the BBC Action Line .
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Interview
Knowledge is power.
Aqua leaned against the counter, bored out of her mind. Never a good sign when, three hours into an 8 hour shift, one has nothing left to do.
Other than wait on the late night customers, of which there was… one.
That Purple guy who’s been coming in with Mr. King. The one who would be about Gold’s age if Gold hadn’t…
When had he come in? And it was interesting that he was alone for once. That was a first.
He approached the counter with a bag of chips and a bottle of one of those fancy lemonades.
“Good evening, thank you for shopping at Wants, did you find everything you were looking for tonight?” She put on her customer service voice and bright smile.
“Not quite.”
Oh please, oh please don’t hit on me…
“I wanted to know a little bit more about King, if you had the time.”
She narrowed her eyes, “What did you want to know?”
“Just… stuff, I guess. He doesn’t talk much about himself, or his life before he met me and I guess I’m just curious as to why.”
“And why are you asking me?”
“You are literally the only other person he really mentions or talks about from before. Does he not have other friends?”
“I mean, he might’ve had some work friends, but Mr. King’s always been a loner.”
“So is King his last name then?”
“He doesn’t have a last name, I don’t think. Gold didn’t have one so I assume Mr. King probably doesn’t either.”
“So what’s with the formality?” He opened up his chips as he leaned against the opposite side of the counter.
“I’ve known him since I was in diapers, but I guess it started when I went to grade school and I thought Mr, Ms and Mx were how all kids referred to adults that weren’t their parents, I guess it just stuck,” She sighed as she realized he’d gotten her talking against her better judgement.
“Was there ever any Ms, Mx or Mr King the second?”
“Haha, he’s been single for as long as I’ve known him.”
“So then where did Gold come from?”
“He had a partner before I was born, apparently she died giving birth to him. I’m not surprised he wouldn’t really mention that, technically I only know it because my mom told me.”
“…” Purple’s expression went dark for a moment before he opened up his lemonade, “You were one of Gold’s friends, right? What was he like?”
“I was his best friend. He was… funny and charming, everyone at school loved him. He was always helping people and was always willing to go the extra mile for someone. But he was also very… reckless and impulsive. I had to talk him out of a lot of dangerous things growing up.”
“When’s his birthday?”
“King’s or Gold’s?”
“Both, I guess.”
“Uh, Mr. King’s birthday is April 3rd, and Gold’s was… December 3rd.”
“Huh, both on the third of the month, what a coincidence.”
“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have remembered Mr. King’s if it weren’t for that. I don’t think he ever really celebrated it.”
“…And the anniversary of Gold’s accident?”
“Oh, that’s coming right up, on the 21st.”
“Ah, that explains that then,” Purple said cryptically, crumpling up the empty chip bag and straightening up to go.
“Wait! It’s my turn to ask you a few questions.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” Purple shrugged, draining the last of his lemonade and tossing the bottle in the bin.
“…How did you meet Mr. King?”
Purple looked at her thoughtfully as he held the door open, debating what to say, if he should even say anything at all. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and he couldn’t quite read her expression beyond that.
“Not to go into too much detail, we met when we were both in some really bad places in our lives. And we both helped pull each other out of it. Now we’re just trying to figure out our new normal, y’know?”
Aqua nodded, “I guess I get it. I was just worried you were… using him, I guess.”
Purple couldn’t help but chuckle at that. It had really been the other way around, but he wasn’t gonna tell her that, “If I was using him, I sure wouldn’t have admitted it just because you asked. It’s nice that you’re worried about him though.”
“Just… be good to him. I’m sure he’s done some awful things while he was grieving, but he’s a decent man.”
“I know. Thanks for the answers, Aqua. See you later,” He stepped out the door and into the night, leaving Aqua tangled in her memories for the night.
#ava#avm#animation vs minecraft#animator vs animation#alan becker#purple#aqua#avm oc#does this go with kingdrabbles?#or is it a standalone oneshot?
20 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
politedemon
let the world we dream about be the one we live in now.
timurlangit
LangiTimur
thegemcollection
Untitled
sanjaya1912
Untitled
aloonation
Aloo