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#armstrong meant to say

lunaris1013 · 9 months

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It's Moon Landing Day!

On this, Tumblr's first celebration of Moon Landing Day, my insomnia and I bring you this humble, barely researched post of fast facts!

On July 20, 1969 at 4:17 p.m. EDT Apollo 11 becomes the first manned spacecraft to land on the moon.

Neil Armstrong (commander), Buzz Aldrin (lunar module pilot) and Michael Collins (command module pilot) were the crew.

The Apollo 11 spacecraft consisted of the command module, Columbia, and the lunar module, Eagle.

The crew traveled 240,000 miles from the Earth to the moon in 76 hours.

1:47 p.m. EDT Armstrong and Aldrin, in the lunar module Eagle, separate from the command module. Collins remains onboard the Columbia orbiting the moon.

4:17 p.m. EDT - The Eagle lands.

4:18 p.m. EDT - “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed,” Armstrong reports. When the lunar module lands on the moon’s surface at the Sea of Tranquility, it has less than 40 seconds of fuel left.

10:56 p.m. EDT - Armstrong says, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind,” as he becomes the first human to set foot on the moon.

11:15 p.m. EDT (approx.) - Buzz Aldrin joins Armstrong on the moon. The men read from a plaque signed by the three crew members and the president, “Here men from the planet Earth first set foot upon the Moon, July 1969 A.D. We came in peace for all mankind.”

11:48 p.m. EDT - President Nixon speaks to Armstrong and Aldrin via radio from the Oval Office, “(it) certainly has to be the most historic telephone call ever made.” They speak for two minutes and the call is televised on both ends.

Armstrong and Aldrin spend over two hours collecting moon rock samples and data, and spend the night on board the Eagle.

Text from CNN, image from USA Today

#moon landing day #of course I'm celebrating #armstrong meant to say #one small step for A man #happy moon landing day to all who celebrate

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old-lorarri · 7 months

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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐒 ─ 𝐌𝐀𝟏𝟏 ˚₊· ꒱꒱

─ summary . . . ❨ the announcement is here it's official everyone's fav couple are gonna be parents and there other children (there followers) can't wait ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ marcus armstrong x fem! gf! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . ❨ I was meant to post mark webber thirsty thoughts today but oh well enjoy! ❩

❨ taglist | masterlist ❩

yourinstagram

liked by marcusarmstrong clementnovalak 52,787,267 others

yourinstagram coming soon...🤍

comments have been limited

user MY PARENTS ARE GONNA BE ACTUAL PARENTS

marcusarmstrong I love you 🤍 ⤷ yourinstagram I love you more 🤍 ⤷ clementnovalak get a room 🤍

user that is going to be the luckiest child on planet earth

indycar new driver incoming? liked by yourinstagram marcusarmstrong 12,234 others

user I have never been more jealouse of an unborn child

f1 congrats!!!!

formula2 🥳🥳🥳🥳

clementnovalak can't wait to meet my god son ⤷ jamesharveyblair excuse me? ⤷ oscarpiastri excuse me? ⤷ liamlawson30 excuse me? ⤷ screaingmeals excuse me? ⤷ lewishamilton excuse me? ⤷ sebastianvettel excuse me? ⤷ marcusarmstrong 🤭

user thank god they finally annouced my re birth

user they are gonna be amazing parents

user congrats

comments have been limited

INTERVIEW → BABY ON BOARD WITH MARCUS ARMSTRONG AND Y/N L/N | SCREAMING MEALS

─ requested by . . .

anon ─ would love to request for mr marcus armstrong 🤭🤭🤭 maybe he and reader unintentionally conceive and she spends so long trying to work up the courage to break the news, and she's so noticeably nervous when she tells him, and then when she finally does he just grins and tells her he already guessed but was waiting for her to say something on her own time. if you don't feel like it that's ok too! 😌

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tainbocuailnge · 2 years

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like the thing with senator armstrong that makes him so iconic and dare i say realistic even though he only has like one scene and spends it throwing cars at a cyborg ninja is that he correctly identified the symptoms - modern media and consumerist culture is geared towards providing an endless stream of bullshit that doesn’t matter in order to distract the masses and keep them complacent - but because he never actually struggled a day in his life he’s completely wrong about what it’s a symptom of, and therefore, what the solution is. everyone is fucking sick of late stage capitalism! it’s not meant to actually benefit anything other than the line that shows the profits going up and even this guy at the top of the food chain thinks its a load of shit. armstrong and raiden actually agree on that part. but raiden is the saddest wettest most pathetic poor little meow meow who suffered every possible crime against humanity as well as being forced to perpetuate those crimes himself so he correctly identifies that the media spectacle is meant to distract from the blood of the weak that oils the machines while armstrong thinks it’s meant to distract the strong from the fact that they could totally kill people with their bare hands and only pussies rely on the machine to squeeze the blood out of the weak. which makes him fucking insane! and at the same time an incredibly real portrayal of the way upper class white men feel alienated by the system built from the ground up to benefit them and radicalise into being batshit insane precisely because the system has always benefited them but they’re still unsatisfied so instead of continuing to adhere to the rules of this alienating society they think the world should just be a complete free for all in which they’ll surely still come out on top. and even though he absolutely and undeniably is a villain, when he’s screaming “fuck the internet fuck the 24/7 stream of internet celebrity bullshit fuck all of this” you still wanna scream it with him because we all hate it here

#anyway i love cuchulainn #metapost #i tagged it that now cuz it picked up but this was NOT written with the expectation of it getting spread do not fucking discourse at me

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thefiresontheheight · 7 months

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"...while these [corporate re-education] programs have shown evidence of marginal positive effects (Meredithe et al.) and continue to be employed (Kine-Veck), they ultimately run into the same limitations as A.I. on interstellar hauls infallibly loyal to those possessing their security codes. That is, once outside effective communication distance companies cannot rely on any positive reinforcement. For this reason, it has been suggested that re-education instead focus on loyalty to the rest of the crew, rather than loyalty to the company." - A Proposal for Use of Romantic/Sexual Re-education on Interstellar Haul Crews, Delivered to the Board of VeckQwenZemco on New Armstrong, Mars, 2998 CE. *** The divorce come down and turn around was brutal. One moment your brain and biochemistry and hormones, all carefully wired by the re-education modules, make you fully believe that you have long been in a deep, committed, passionate relationship with the six to eight other people on the haul. You look at them and even though you know you'll only spend a few weeks of subjective time with them, maybe a month or two on a longer job, only a brief window out of cryo and not lagged by relativity, even though you know what you gave the company your written consent to do, your brain still loves them. Then you pull into orbit over Eridiani, or Luna, or wherever, you probably bang one last time, say your tearful goodbyes, and spend the next few weeks crying like you just lost the love of your life as the chemicals wash out and the deprogramming modules hit. The moment is over. But time spent on a company station meant time wracking up debt for oxygen, water, food. So, still on the come down, Reade looked for a course, signed the wavers, gave her consent, grabbed the meager belongings that had gotten her through seven of these hauls, now dating from over forty years ago given the time lost to cryo and near-light travel. File down to concourse-E. Begin again. "Here for the haul?" the skinny low-g kid of her in the line said. "Um, VeckGreenQwenZemco 3043-28897?" Reade sized them up. New kid. First haul. She could smell it on them. In a few hours she'd probably love them and have her brain inventing all sorts of bullshit justifications for the neurochemical feelings the company would induce in her in order to improve team cohesion and morale trillions of miles away from anyone else. In a few hours she'd love them for their optimism, their smile, their cheery attitude and all the questions. But not yet. Right now, still awash in the last break up, Reade savored the simple joy of being a miserable bitch. "Kid," she said, with a malicious grin, "you're gonna love me in a bit. But you're still gonna remember this so I want you to get a good earful of it before the re-education. I'm fucking hate you and hate that I have to do this and if I could I'd throw you out a fucking airlock." She pulled her headphones on and cranked the volume. It hurt, in her chest, and the least she could do was make someone else hurt with her. That freedom, at least, she had for a few more minutes.

#my writing #science fiction #original fiction

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bunmurdock · 18 days

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spotted pigeons and telepathic dog walkers | matt murdock x oralfixation!reader

summary: combined three inbox requests! (1) “sucking matt’s fingers for comfort” + (2) “having a bad day; matt lets you curl up in his lap while he whispers sweet nothings” + (3) “matt x oral fixation!reader; he would love how needy/clingy she is and oblige her with his fingers.” tags: humor, fluff, daddy!matt, use of a pet name (“pup”) word count: 918

“shh, there you go, sweetheart,” matt whispers.

you're curled up in his lap. his thumb nudges its way between your parted lips, a gesture so deeply rooted in your shared moments of comfort. his skin tastes of the day's work, a hint of soap and something uniquely matt, and it grounds you, pulls you back from the edge of your anxieties.

“someone was a little firecracker today, hm? got all worked up, and now look at you, quiet as a mouse.” you suckle on his finger, cheeks puffing adorably.

he laughs softly. “ah, there's that pout. knew it wouldn't be long.”

matt shifts, caressing your cheek with his other fingers. “let's see if we can't find a better use for that pout, hm?” his free arm reaching over to the nearby bluetooth speaker. soft, instrumental music fills the room.

“music to soothe the savage beast,” he quips, the laughter around his eyes crinkling with something more tender. he rocks you gently, the movement subtle but comforting. “or in our case, to soothe the sweetest pup in the world.”

“you know, i was thinking. maybe we should go birdwatching like you suggested. you and me, out in the park at dawn, and you can tell me when you see the rare... spotted pink pigeon.”

the absurdity of the statement, delivered with such faux seriousness, is enough to draw a reluctant smile from you.

“spotted pink pigeon doesn't exist, pup, but if it did, i’m sure it'd be as unique and lovely as you.”

he leans back against the couch, taking you with him. the question he's been pondering dances at the tip of his tongue, a gentle inquiry meant to bridge the silence that has settled between you.

“which, speaking of, we’ve been debating at the office. how would you feel about a little office mascot? foggy and kar—”

before he can continue, he feels your body tense slightly, the shift so subtle only someone as attuned to you as matt could notice. the question hangs in the air, unfinished, as he tunes into your reaction. there's a stillness about you, a hesitation that speaks volumes to him.

“ah,” he whispers, a gentle kiss pressed to the top of your head. “not the time for decisions, huh? that's okay. let's get your mind off of things.”

he shifts slightly, making sure you're nestled comfortably against him.

“so. you’re not going to believe this. today, foggy brought in this client—mr. boetticher. a guy who claims he's developed a 'revolutionary' method to walk dogs telepathically. says he can control up to ten dogs at a time with just his mind.”

“and karen decided we should test this guy's claim. so, there we were, in the middle of central park, with foggy holding onto five leashes, more scared than i've ever seen him, and this guy concentrating so hard i thought he might burst a blood vessel.”

“of course, nothing happened. well, nothing except for the dogs deciding it was the perfect time to chase after a squirrel, taking foggy on a little unexpected adventure.”

matt pauses, feeling the vibrations of your giggles against his chest. “and then later, there's frank castle,” he continues, the smile evident in his voice. “dropped by today. turns out he has a soft spot for old jazz records,” he smirks. “walked in on him and karen having an impromptu dance session in the middle of the office.”

“really?” you murmur around his thumb, eyes wide.

“mhm. when i walked in, never seen someone jump up so fast. tried to act all tough, like he hadn’t just been serenading karen with louis armstrong's greatest hits.”

your giggle fills the room, warm and hearty, as he continues. “but the highlight of the day? the office itself. ever since we moved to the new place, it's been one adventure after another. and today was no exception.”

“we've been dealing with this... let's call it a 'haunted' coffee machine. turns out, foggy was convinced it had a mind of its own. would randomly start brewing in the middle of meetings.”

you let out a soft snort, the image of foggy arguing with a coffee machine too vivid in your imagination.

“so today, karen had enough. she declared war on the coffee machine. it was a scene to behold, pup. karen, armed with the user manual, foggy providing moral support from a safe distance, and me, well, enjoying the show.”

your laughter is muffled against his chest, the silly image of the trio taking on an inanimate object a welcome distraction.

“guess what?” matt's voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “took them three days to figure out foggy had been accidentally hitting the delayed start button with his elbow every time he leaned on the counter.”

your laughter bubbles up again, filling the room with warmth, and a look of pure fondness crosses matt’s face, a look reserved only for you.

“but you know, the best part of today?” he continues, “was coming back to you, knowing that no matter how crazy the day gets, i've got a crazier little pup waiting for me—”

you bite down on his finger.

“ouch! alright alright. ah—no teeth.”

“so, how about we plan a day out? just you and me,” he teases gently, tilting your chin up to meet his smile with one of your own—even if he can’t see it, he feels it. “think of it as our little adventure, away from the stress and chaos. what do you say, pup?”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock x you #x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fanfiction #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #bun’s

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lovelytsunoda · 8 months

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how will I know? // marcus armstrong

summary: marcus has the hots for a barista at florida's trendiest cafe. it's not the pumpkin spice that keeps bringing him back. perhaps its the fact that he doesn't know how to ask her out that's holding him back.

pairing: marcus armstrong x barista! reader

warnings: pumpkin spice lattes, mid-season exams, i don't know jack shit about coffee so if the terminology doesn't make sense, don't sue me. Clement has no filter whatsoever.

how will I know if he really loves me? I say a prayer in every heartbeat! how will I know if he’s thinking of me? I’m asking you cause you know about things

florida is a vastly different place before eight in the morning. especially in the fall, trees dyed red and orange as nature takes it’s time ringing in the next phase.

marcus stopped, hands on his knees as he bent over to gasp for air. he never associated flordia with the cold, but when you grow up in christchurch, anything less than boiling is cold.

he took a deep breath, pushing up the sleeves of his athletic sweater and stretching his arms as he began to walk down the quiet street. the off season was no joke. sure, he’s fucked around for a few weeks with some of the old ferrari boys, but now he finally had a chance to make something of himself.

to be a household name.

which meant that despite the outside temperature and the lack of desire tk do much, he needed to keep up the routine. the routine would keep him sane, keep him in fighting condition.

but first, he needed coffee. and indoor heating.

he pushed into the coffee shop on the corner, a quiet yet cozy set up with blown glass pumpkins on the shelves behind the counter, a garland of fake fall leaves strung up around the point-of-sale terminal. lo-fi covers of eighties arena rock played in the background, a tinny rendition inf of Springsteens ‘dancing in the dark’ echoing throughout the empty space.

empty except for one person.

at a table in the back corner, a petite woman of about twenty one sat cross legged, earbuds in and staring at a laptop as she hopped her head to whatever she was listening to and scribbled a few things down on her notebook page.

she sang under her breath as she bopped her head, and marcus could hear the fluctuating notes of “you sexy thing” clashing with the overhead music.

there was something about the care-free nature of her own little world that marcus found very endearing.

sliding a hand into his pants pockets, he turned back to the counter, tapping the bell on the counter to call for a barista.

at the sound, the girl in the corner jumped, apple earbuds falling out of her ears as she stumbled over the kanken backpack on the floor.

“fuck, give me just a second! sorry, we usually don’t get any traffic before eight in the morning.” she groaned, heading towards the counter, cuffs of her oversized jeans dragging on the floor. “it’s mid term season, you know how it is.”

“I don’t, actually.” marcus shrugged “I never went to university.”

the girl laughed, slipping behind the counter. “count yourself lucky. this is hell.” she took a breath, tying her hair in a loose ponytail behind her head. “what can I get you?”

“do you have just, normal coffees?” marcus chuckled, looking at the chalkboard menu on the wall. “something that my trainer won’t kill me for drinking?”

the girl behind the counter laughed, placing a hand over her heart. “someone under the age of thirty drinks normal coffee?”

“such is the life of a professional athlete.”

she smiled softly at him, and he felt his stomach churn as she tapped the tablet screen.

she was so pretty, in such a subtle, ordinary way. the kind that took no effort.

“espresso, latte, or americano?”

marcus placed his order, tapping his black amex card against the machine as she turned around to grab a paper coffee cup, a blue sharpie peeking out over her back pocket. she uncapped the marker, leaning over the counter and resting her elbows against the laminate.

“can I get a name for that?”

“that depends,” marcus grinned, mimicking her pose. his face was so close to her that she could have kissed him if she leaned a little closer. “can I get yours?”

“y/n.” she flushed, blush spreading across her cheeks.

“I’m marcus. nice to meet you, y/n.”

every morning after that, it was like there was an invisible string that kept dragging marcus back. he couldn't explain what pull that the small boutique cafe had, but every morning, like clockwork, he was slipping into the small store, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl who had first caught his eye, sitting curled up in her small corner of the white marble space.

by the second day, he had worked up the courage to ask what she was studying. by the third day, she had memorized his order (americano with cream and cold foam) and by the fourth day, he was coming in early to help her use her study flash cards.

despite herself, y/n found herself longing for the kiwi, the mysterious athlete that had slipped so easily into her life despite it all, despite the obligations that she was sure had to things that weren't her.

it all felt too good to be true.

and you know what, one morning he never came in, and she felt her heart sink, even though there was no reason for it. it's not like he was her lover. he was just another customer.

one she had grown attached to.

of course, marcus had a good reason for not coming in that morning. he knew it was the day before her exam, and he wanted more than anything to be there and help her make sure she was ready. instead, he found himself at the airport, waiting for two different flights to land: james from new zealand, and clement from... well, he didn't actually know where clement was flying in from. sometimes, when it came to the eccentric frenchman, it was better not to ask. and

because he was such a good fucking friend, he was waiting in the arrivals line at the asscrack of dawn instead of ordering coffee. and once his friends had piled into the car, squishing suitcases and duffle bags into the sad excuse of a trunk, he got it into his head that he was going to go straight to the coffee shop.

"mate, you missed the turn to your house." clement frowned, tapping on the window. "where are you taking us?"

james smiled to himself, wiping the sweat off his brow. "he's taking us to see coffee shop girl."

"oh, shit. are you finally going to tell her you love her?"

"oh, fuck you both." marcus groaned, pulling into a parking space in front of the small shop, aptly named 'what's the tea?. "i'm not 'in love', but i want to know her better. she has a big exam tomorrow, and you guys know i've been helping her study, so i just want to make sure she feels okay about it."

clement snorted, sharing a look with james.

"simp." both men said at the same time, laughing hysterically as marcus stepped out of the car, flashing his middle finger at his comrades before he went inside.

when they were done laughing, clement and james followed him inside, greeted by a lo-fi version of 'you shook me all night long'. the cafe was busier than marcus had ever seen it, and there were three different girls working behind the counter today, the tables almost full. he spied y/n's backpack at a corner booth, tucked safely into the corner.

but there was no sign of y/n.

he waited in the line, james and clem behind him, and when he reached the counter, he couldn't hide his disappointment that she hadn't come to ask if he still wanted his usual order.

"what can i get you?" athena, the woman behind the counter asked him.

"hi, is y/n working today?"

athena grinned, leaning against the counter. "you're runner boy, aren't you?"

"he calls her coffee shop girl! they're made for each other!" clem shouted with a laugh, earning a small slap to the chest from james.

"she's in the back, she stepped out to take a break. today has been rough on her." athena smiles softly, stepping back. "i'll go get her for you."

he peeled away from the line, hands tapping his sides nervously as he watched athena duck into the back room. james clapped him in the shoulders, attempting to talk up his longtime friend.

when the door to the back room opened, and y/n emerged from the small break space, his heart stopped. her eyes were rimmed in red, as if she had been crying. her hair was loosely pinned back in a plastic clip, a minuscule droplet of water on her glasses.

and as soon as she saw him, she couldn’t help but smile.

“you came. I missed you this morning.” she said softly, making her way towards him, hands shyly hidden in the sleeves of her sweater.

marcus chuckled, gesturing towards clem and james. “yeah, I had to go pick up these two wankers from the airport.”

almost as if they had heard, both men turned towards the couple, waving their arms madly.

“he wants to jump your bones!” clement shouts before taking a sip of his fancy matcha drink, seductively winking at a blonde behind the bar

“please, pay them no mind.” marcus sighs as y/n starts to laugh. “I’ve known them since I was like, twelve. theyre harmless, just taking the piss.”

“don’t worry about it.” she smiles, brushing an errant strand of hair. “I think it’s charming.”

“your civil lit exam is tomorrow, right? how are you feeling?”

she exhaled, slipping both hands into her back pockets. “overwhelmed. but I think I can do it. i can definitely pass, just not sure by how much.”

feeling james and clems eyes boring into the back of his head, marcus took a deep breath, wringing his hands together. “hey, after your exam, maybe when your life has calmed down a little bit, do you want to grab a drink?”

she beamed, blushing pink as she reached for a cardboard heat sleeve, scribbling her number down on it. “yeah, I’d love that. do you want w coffee? the usual?”

she slipped the sleeve with her number on it onto the cup, her hand lingering over marcus’ as she passed him the cup.

when he went back to his friends, james and clem took one look at the scribbled digits on the side of the cup and burst out into cheers.

as they left the shop, he turned back, stealing a look at y/n as she slipped behind the bakery case. when she saw him, she gave him a smile, and a gentle wave.

and marcus waved back. maybe moving to florida wasn’t a bad thing after all.

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @httpiastri @clemswrld @libraryofloveletters @scuderiamh @lorarri @cartierre @diorleclerc

#the cozy collection 2023 #marcus armstrong #marcus armstrong x reader #indycar #indycar x reader #formula two x reader #indycar rpf #indycar imagine #formula 2 #Spotify #lovelytsunodas eclectic music taste

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 9 months

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David and Michael interview with Vanessa Armstrong and Valerie Ettenhofer for SlashFilm, 10.7.2023

Film's Vanessa Armstrong got the answers in an interview with Sheen and Tennant, which it should be noted took place before the ongoing SAG-AFTRA strike began. When asked about how and when Gaiman, who created and showruns the series, pitched the second season, Tennant revealed that "it gradually came into focus over a couple of years, probably." The actor notes that "the initial idea that there might be more story to tell" might have actually "had its genesis way, way back as a sort of fantasy idea, really, where we were shooting [season] 1." Like many a TV show these days, the show was initially marketed as a limited series, but that didn't last; it was officially renewed in 2021, two years after it aired.

While it sounds like Gaiman and the cast perhaps daydreamed about keeping the fun going with another season during production on the first, Tennant says the pieces still didn't come together until after it aired. "Then [season] 1 came out, and I think from that point, there was a slow realization that actually there might be more to come," he told /Film. "Neil was clearly excited at the idea, and I think Amazon were keen to do it." Some limited series clearly have aspirations for a sophomore season, but Tennant insists that he and Sheen "always thought it was a one-off," having signed contracts for one season and only been pitched on one season. When they got the go-ahead for another, though, he explained, "Michael and I were thrilled that we would get to return to [these] characters."

"When we started off on that journey, there was never a sense to go further, but what a treat that it was going to," Tennant explained. It took a long time for the full season 2 picture to come into focus: "I think Neil would drop us little nuggets down the months and years, really," he told /Film. Sheen, meanwhile, says he has "no memory whatsoever' of how Gaiman told him about the plans for Aziraphale in season 2. He did, however, have an inkling based on conversations Gaiman had described having with Pratchett about a continuation of the story before the author's death in 2015. "I know what we wanted to explore," Sheen said, "and I always remember what he was aiming to get to by the end of the second series, because of ideas that he and Terry had talked about with where the story might go."

Sheen says he thinks the first thing Gaiman told him about season 2 involved "the idea of Gabriel coming into their lives again in a very unexpected way, and then that eventually building to the point that they get to at the end of this series." Tennant, meanwhile, remembers being in Romania on a shoot for "Around The World in 80 Days" when Gaiman shared the first scene of season 2 with him and Sheen over Zoom. "Neil read us the first scene, the opening scene, which is, if you've seen it, you'll know we meet a very youthful Crowley and Aziraphale, very much way back at the beginning of time." (fygo: NGK FUCKING NGK!!!) Tennant says Gaiman "then gave us a quick sketch of what the rest of the series was going to be." Though both actors are understandably trying to keep mum about the ending of season 2, they note that Gaiman told them what it would be early on.

"That was all worked out, and it just felt delicious, really," Tennant says after recalling the Zoom meeting. "I mean from that moment on, it just felt like it was always meant to be. It felt like it was such a perfectly formed idea. I think it's fair to say that Michael and I didn't need much persuading." That's great to hear, because we certainly didn't need persuading to sign up for a season 2, either. The new "Good Omens" adventure begins on Prime Video on July 28, 2023.

#good omens #gos2 #season 2 #david tennant #michael sheen #interview #david interview #michael interview #s2 opening scene #angel crowley #good omens spoilers #spoilers #crowley and aziraphale meeting in heaven #s2 interview #slashfilm #slashfilm 2023

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deanbrainrotwritings · 10 months

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— HEARTS ON FIRE

SUMMARY : would this be considered illegal? it didn’t matter because he was the sheriff and she’s the love of his life.

PAIRING : beau arlen x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw (18+), smut, oral (f. receiving), fluff

WORD COUNT : 2.4k

A/N : song title from stretch armstrong. I love beau, he’s so close to being jensen ackles, all yeehaw and stuff. so adorable. RIP big sky, it was good. xX

“Is there a problem, Sheriff?” Y/N asked when she rolled down her window. She blinked up at him innocently, ID and driver’s licence ready in her hand, she showed it to him so he could take it before he even asked.

“L/N, Y/N?” He asked, staring down at the two cards. “Gotta say these don’t do you justice, darlin’,” he said casually, handing them back to her, then stepped back. “Step out of the vehicle, ma’am,” he ordered, putting his hands on his hips expectantly. She blinked up at him, shoved her cards into her purse and did as he asked.

“You gonna arrest me or something?” She asked, staring up at him, the sunlight casting a beautiful golden glow on his beautiful sunny skin. His freckles and the flecks in his green eyes turned to gold, shimmering like the sun through tall trees in the forest. The cowboy hat he wore, being the trees that cast a shadow on his beauty.

“Just gonna make sure you don’t have anything dangerous or illegal on you,” he clarified, making a circle with his fingers, he told her to turn around. She sighed, rolling her eyes and placed her hands on the car, her chest pressed against the cool metal. He kicked her legs open slightly and she gasped, looking at him over her shoulder with a glare. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he murmured, squatting down to pat her ankles, his hand sliding up her soft, bare legs unnecessarily.

She bit her lip, tried to stop her smile when he stood up, his hands first on her hips before travelling up her chest to squeeze her breasts. She blushed, her heart hammering in her chest. He hummed softly when he removed his hands from her body, then slapped her ass, causing her to jolt and gasp. “Sheriff!” She exclaimed with a little laugh, turning around to face him, a big playful grin on his face.

“Hey, beautiful,” he smiled, leaning down to kiss her. She pushed up on her toes to meet him halfway, smiling softly into the kiss.

“You just can’t stay away, can you?” She teased, tugging him towards her, so close she was sandwiched between her car and his warm body.

“Well, one: you’re mine, so why would I want to stay away?” He asked, his thumb brushing gently against her lip, causing her to release a quiet breath. “And two: you’re incorrigible. You asked for this,” he murmured, leaning back down to give her another kiss. He licked into her mouth, swallowing a little moan she let out as her fingers tightened around his jacket.

“We should hurry, too many people depend on you,” she teased. He pulled away, licking his lips to savour the remaining taste of her mouth and watched her open the car door to the backseat.

“We can take our time, Jenny’s good with taking over if I’m late,” he grinned, slipping inside the spacious backseat with her, dropping his phone down carelessly in the front seat. She chuckled and reached over for his hat when he was distractedly shutting the door behind him.

“Still, don’t wanna keep you too long,” she replied, putting the hat over her own head, leaning her back against the door to unbutton her blouse. He crawled over to her, licking his lips, his eyes moving up her bare legs, up her body, and to her smiling face.

“I thought you’d keep me forever, however long it is,” he pouted playfully, slid his hands up her legs and under her skirt to slowly start pulling her underwear down.

“I meant from work.” She laughed, pulling her blouse out from inside her skirt, letting him take her underwear off all the way.

“Oh, thank God.” He pretended to be relieved and she rolled her eyes when he dangled them in front of her adorably, then threw them into the front seat. He kissed her calf, trailed his lips up the inside of her leg, his hand moving up the underside of her other leg to hook it over his shoulders.

His beard tickled her legs, his soft lips kissing, teeth gently biting, sucking at her velvety skin. He brought her hips forward, let her shimmy the skirt up so it was out of the way, and licked at her entrance, slowly dragging his tongue through her folds, and drew a teasing circle on her clit.

She moaned softly, took the Stetson off and threw it in the front seat to join her underwear. Her fingers carded through his soft, long hair, looking down at his beautiful face buried between her legs. His freckled cheeks were pink, his nose nudging at her clit as he pushed his tongue as deep as he could into her pussy.

“You’re so hot, Beau,” she licked her lips, her heart pounding in her chest excitedly. It was maddening, the way he wiggled his tongue inside her, touching her walls on all sides and moaning softly against her. “Fuck,” she whispered, spreading her legs more, letting his tongue slither deeper inside her.

He was practically making out with her cunt and she gazed down at him, his eyes closed, long, curled lashes prettily resting on his cheeks. His eyes opened slowly, dark green eyes meeting hers as he moved his mouth through her folds, plump and glossy lips puckered around her clit to suck softly.

She closed her eyes despite wanting to see him between her legs and brought her hands up to her breasts, pulling the lace bra down so her breasts poured out of the weak cups. He hummed appreciatively, his eyes moving from her face to her breasts, hungry eyes following the movement of her fingers teasingly brushing against her nipples until they peeked.

She arched her back, bringing one hand back down to his head to pull him closer, properly messing his hair up even more. Her fingers slipped through his hair, tugging gently, nails softly scratching against his scalp making him shiver. He pulled away from her breathlessly, started to tug his jacket off because the heat was getting nearly unbearable.

She relaxed in her seat and opened her eyes, letting her hand rest on her thigh so tempted to touch herself when he started to unbuckle his belt. His hard cock was pushing against the seam of his jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them as fast as he could. Her pussy throbbed at the sight of him, warmth blossoming between her legs and arousal dripping from her entrance as she watched him palm his cock impatiently.

“‘Love how you taste, Y/N,” he murmured, licking some of the arousal that made his mouth shiny. She bit her lip, a little smile growing on her lips at his words. She scooted towards him, started to undo the buttons of his shirt as he lowered his boxers and jeans down to his thighs. His cock bobbed, stiff and pretty, it rested on his stomach then she gently pushed him back.

“Beau, you are seriously, seriously hot,” she mumbled, taking his face to kiss him roughly before he could reply or laugh bashfully. With his hands on her hips, he pulled her flush against his warm body, lowered her and lifted his hips so his cock would rub against her wet folds. They moaned softly against each other's lips, her fingers pulling gently at the hairs behind his head.

She continued to roll her hips against his, trailing her lips down his neck to suck and bite at his sweet skin. Beau’s little moans and his heavy breaths only made her pussy more soppy, her slick coating his cock, making each movement swift. She teased him for a little longer, scratching her nails carefully in his scalp and kissing him again, nibbling on his bottom lip as she reached down to wrap her hand around his cock.

“Look at you, so desperate,” she chuckled, licking her lips at the sight of him completely flustered and horny. He groaned softly when she lifted her hips and jerked his cock a few times, her thumb swiping hot precum over the soft tip of his cock. His head gently hit the window and he grunted, his eyes shutting when she teasingly brought his dick to her clit, rubbing a few times before circling the leaking tip around her entrance.

“Please, sweetheart,” he groaned, his arm tightened around her waist. Her back arched and she started to sink down on him, his teeth painfully digging into his lip to hold back any sounds.

“I wanna hear you, handsome,” she moaned, slowly lowering herself and grinding down when their hips were pressed together. Beau nodded and released his lip, swallowing from the dryness in his throat due to his heavy panting. She slowly started to lift her hips and sank back down on his cock, she squirmed, walls squeezing him as she found the pace and right position to make his cock brush perfectly against her g-spot.

With her hands on his chest, she sped up, and his hands tightened around her hips, staring down at her bounce on his cock, her breasts moving up and down with her movements. His hands moved up her back slowly, pulling her forward so he could latch onto her nipples, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin and his tongue lapping at the nub. She cursed softly, rode him faster and held him closer, her orgasm approaching faster than she expected, but instead of edging herself or him, she let it happen.

Her nails dug into his chest and she moaned his name, her pace becoming erratic and her thighs burning from her efforts. He bent his knees and started to meet her hips, thrusting up harshly and switching to her other breast until she came on his cock with a moan of his name.

He removed his mouth from her breasts and squeezed her closer, letting her bury her face in his neck when he came inside her with a grunt. Cursing softly he continued to thrust into her, both of them riding out their orgasm, shockwaves of pleasure almost feeling endless, until they slowed down and held each other as they caught their breaths.

“You’re amazing,” Beau whispered, gently rubbing her back and brushing his thumb softly against her hip bone. Her shoulders shook with quiet laughter and she smiled against his shoulder, nuzzling her face into his warm, freckled skin that never failed to remind her of the beauty of nature and spring.

“I think you’re pretty awesome, too, Sheriff,” she mumbled, her cheek squished against his toned skin.

“Don’t call me sheriff after we had sex in your car… right after I pretended to stop you and patted you down,” he laughed softly, kissing her head affectionately.

“That was really sexy, Beau,” she smiled, then lifted her head to gaze down at him and to be greeted by his beauty once more. His eyes were glazed over, his cheeks were tinted pink, his lips red and swollen and wet with saliva. God, he looked so beautiful all fucked out, especially with his messy hair and his shirt opened up.

“Well, as much as I’d like to stay here with you, darlin’, I’m afraid I have to get to work.” Beau pressed his lips against hers and lowered his head to kiss the top of her breasts, cursing softly when that made her walls spasm slightly. He could resist her, trailed his lips up to her neck and behind her ear to suck a mark. His teeth grazed her skin and she shivered, once agains behind her hand to the back of his neck.

“You were working,” she reasoned breathlessly, “I could’ve had something dangerous or illegal.” He chuckled against her neck and kissed her lips again, his tongue pushing into her warm mouth, rolling against her soft tongue. He blindly fixed her bra and started to button her shirt up again, pulling away breathlessly when she started to move off his lap slowly.

She hummed softly and he groaned, watching his now limp cock rest on his stomach, wet and covered in a mixture of their release. His lips parted and he looked up at her, watched her reach into the front seat to pick up her underwear, her ass tempting him for another slap. He easily gave in, his hand meeting the fleshy area, loud and resounding, and making her moan and jolt forward in surprise.

“Couldn’t resist.” He chuckled when she blinked over at him and busied himself with shoving his cock into his boxers, fixing himself as best as he could in the space of her backseat. “Don’t have anything to clean yourself up with?” He asked, watching her start to slip her underwear on.

“I like how it feels to have your cum inside me,” she pouted, pausing for a moment before continuing to slide them up her thighs. His heart leaped at her lewd words and he cursed softly, staring at her with the urge to pounce on her again. When his phone started to ring, he looked away from her hesitantly.

“Fuck,” he muttered, reaching over to retrieve his phone he saw Jenny’s name and groaned, giving Y/N a glance. She was tugging her shirt into her skirt and he chewed on his lip before answering. “Yeah, Hoyt?” He asked, putting his phone on his shoulder, craning his head awkwardly to hold it in place so he could button his shirt up again.

Y/N stared at him curiously, then a little fond smile grew on her lips and he blushed despite himself. She reached over to grab his Stetson and his jacket, holding it and signally with her head for him to start heading out as he listened to Jenny speak about a little crime scene.

He quietly shut the car and tucked his shirt into his jeans as Y/N made her way around her car, Stetson on her head, jacket thrown over her shoulder, just so she could do his belt when she got to him. He smiled at how adorable she looked, hung up on Jenny when the conversation was over and kissed Y/N on her forehead. His lips lingered and he took the Stetson, pulling away from her to run his fingers through his hair to fix the sexed-up mess before putting it on.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he told her, taking his jacket.

“You never are.” She smiled up at him, her eyes squinting cutely from the sunshine. He pulled her close and kissed her passionately, his body becoming a puddle of warmth and affection just feeling her kiss back with her hands on his belt.

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footprintsinthesxnd · 3 months

Text

Chapter 2: The Dance

Gale Cleven x Hope Armstrong (ofc)

Series Masterlist

This story is based on on the fictional portrayal of these men from the MOTA to series.

Summary: When their plane is diverted to Thorpe Abbott airfield Hope and Ruth's lives change forever. These two brave nurses must face the trials and tribulations of war, as well as suffering the heartache that war inevitable brings with it.

Collab: A Pair of Silver Wings by @major-mads

Dear Hope,

I hope this letter finds you well and that you have been keeping out of trouble. Hugh finally relented and gave me your address so I apologize for having not written sooner.

I often think of the day that we first met. I have awoken many nights thinking of you and how I wish we could have spoken longer. Forty minutes by air does not seem far and yet you feel as though you are miles from me. I can see why you are named Hope, because since our meeting, and I truly hope there will be other meetings, I feel as though I truly have something worth fighting for. I fear that Johnny also feels the same, I believe your friend Ruth has truly stolen his heart, but rest assured he is a good man and his intentions are pure. He was never the kind of man to write letters or be a one-woman man, but I feel he has changed since going into combat. Your Ruth brings out the best in him, as I feel you bring out the best in me.

I’m sure you have heard of Hugh’s latest antics, if he manages to smuggle any more women onto the base I fear he’ll be court-martialed for disobeying a direct order. Don’t worry I’ll try my best to keep him out of trouble.

I suppose the main reason for my letter is to inform you of the dance being held at the officers club next weekend. I would very much like to take you if you are free. I know Johnny is asking Ruth to go as well, so if you would like I can send a car to pick you up and bring you to the base. Of course, it will be late when the dance ends so I can arrange for you to stay in one of the Red Cross Woman’s Nissan huts, I believe they are well furnished although I have never been inside. I really do look forward to your reply and I hope that you will be able to attend.

You are in my thoughts always Hope.

Yours truly

Gale Cleven

Hope smiled, running her thumb over the crumpled letter as she read Gale’s words again. She had to admit she had thought of him often since their encounter over a week ago, not that she would admit that to Ruth, who somehow managed to bring up Johnny every chance she got.

When their letters came around this morning Hope had pocketed her letter, waiting for a quiet moment in the afternoon to truly appreciate Gale’s words. He had excellent penmanship, she noted, loving how his words seemed to glide across the page. The way he spoke caused her heart rate to quicken and she felt giddy, like a silly school girl with a crush on her classmate. Gale just seemed to have an effect on her that no man had ever had before. He was different from anyone she’d ever met. Hope had never believed in love at first sight, and she couldn’t say that she liked Gale when they first met, he’d been cocky and made assumptions, and yet he’d quickly changed into a charming young man.

Hope sighed, running her eyes over the letter again. It was 17:55 and Ruth was supposed to be meeting her at 18:00, but from the sound of the rain lashing against the windowpane, Hope hoped she’d be a little late. After receiving his letter, Hope wanted time to stand still, wanting to embrace his words and all that they meant. Hope had just finished reading the last line again when Ruth burst through the doorway. Hope didn’t look up but could hear her friend padding barefoot around the room.

"Who's the letter from?" Ruth asked, pulling on a pair of dry pants, a sweater, and some socks. Her footlocker closed with a thud and she plopped down on her creaky mattress, drying the ends of her hair with a towel.

Hope didn't look up from the page but held up an unopened letter. "You got one, too. You should open it."

"Not right now," Ruth sighed. "Right now, I need a nap."

Glancing at her with a raised eyebrow, Hope grinned. "It's from a certain Major."

In an instant, Ruth was on her feet, snatching the letter from Hope’s outstretched hand.

"If you'll excuse me," she said calmly as she excused herself for a moment.

Hope smiled in amusement as she watched Ruth try to contain herself from exploding with happiness. Chuckling at her antics, Hope returned her attention to her own letter.

The next thing Hope knew was the excitable squeal that left Ruth’s lips, “WE’RE GOING TO A DANCE!” She cried, her face lighting up like a Christmas tree, jumping up and down like an excitable child. Hope chuckled at her friend's enthusiasm, taking great delight in her friend's happiness. With everything they had been through together, they deserved to have some fun. Ruth’s jumping slowly came to an end, and the situation dawned on her.

Ruth's voice dropped to a whisper, and her eyes widened. "We're going to a dance."

Hope knew what was coming, and stood off her bed, grabbing onto her friend's upper arms gently.

"You're going to be fine, Ruth."

"I don't know, Hope. You know I don't like huge crowds," she replied.

The dark-haired nurse sighed. "Do you want to see Bucky? Yes or no?"

"Yes!" Ruth replied within a split second.

A satisfied grin worked its way onto Hope's lips as she spoke. "There's your answer."

She pulled Ruth into a tight hug, her own excitement showing through. "What are we going to wear?”

Dear Gale,

How excited I was to receive your letter. I feared my brother would be cantankerous and not share my address with you, but alas he must think you are a good man.

I would very much like to accept your invitation to the dance. I fear I have not danced for a while so my technique may not be perfect but I do very much look forward to seeing you again. I hear that Johnny is the life and soul of the party so I’m hoping he will help bring Ruth out of her shell. It means I will be free to enjoy myself without worrying Ruth is feeling left out.

I feel that in these trying times it is important to have something or someone to fight for, and I am pleased I am able to give you hope. I feel that since meeting you I often find myself wondering if we are sharing the same sky while I am in the air. What a peculiar thought really, but it is true.

I look forward to seeing you again very soon Gale. I will think of you fondly.

Hope

Gale rolled his eyes, looking over at his friend from his bed, which sat across the aisle of the officer’s hut. “I never said she didn’t.” Gale was only half listening to Bucky, too enthralled by his own letter from Hope to truly listen to his friend's conversation.

Sitting up against the wall, Bucky pointed at him. “I’ve got to show her my singing skills at the dance.”

The hut instantly broke out in complaints, each man having already heard the Major’s singing voice. “Please, Bucky,” Curtis called out. “Spare the girl some embarrassment. She’s already going as your date. That’s enough right there.”

Gale found himself trying to withhold a laugh but failed, snorting loudly and himself a glare from John.

“Laugh it up, Buck. You’re just gonna have to watch Ruth and I have fun while you sit in the corner with Hope. Does she know you don’t like to have fun?”

“Wait. My sister Hope?” Hugh piped up from the corner. He’d been reading a magazine and had been oblivious to the conversation until his sister was mentioned. His eyes now bright and his forehead creasing in concern.

“Oh, two can play at that game, Bucky,” Gale scoffed, choosing to ignore Hugh. “I’m gonna be the one sitting your crazy ass down when you start to act up. I can’t let you scare Ruth off before she gets the chance to know you.”

Narrowing his eyes playfully, Egan nodded and put down the letter. “I appreciate the vote of confidence, Buck.”

“Now wait a minute,” Hugh interrupted, his brows furrowed as he pointed to the two majors. “You two are taking Hope and Ruth to the Officer’s Club dance?”

“Yes,” they both responded at the same time.

Hugh ran a hand down his face with a sigh. “Great. You four are not leaving my sight.”

“Come on, Charlie,” Bucky laughed. “We’re not that bad.”

His eyes widened as he turned toward the Major. “Oh really? Tell that to the bar owner in Greenland.”

Groaning, Johnny sunk back down in his bed and tried to keep that rowdy night from his head. Gale just grinned, recalling the look on the bartender's face when he’d delivered the unicorn. He wished he’d been there to see the incident in person but then again the stories of the night were bad enough.

He ran his thumb over Hope’s letter again, folding and unfolding the corner as he read the letter again, imprinting the words on his brain. He could almost hear her talking to him and found himself lost in his thoughts once more.

Saturday, July 31st, 1400 HRS: AAF

Grove, Berkshire

Hope looked at herself in the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time that afternoon. Despite having decided what to wear as soon as she’d read Gale's letter, she had managed to change her dress four times, before returning to her original choice.

She had to admit she looked quite pretty. Her dark hair pinned in neat rolls and the rest of her hair hanging loose in delicate curls, and she was thankful that the rain had finally stopped a few days before otherwise they really would be in trouble. Her makeup was simple yet elegant and her red lips turned up into a smile. Smoothing the creases out of her red dress she moved to the door, taking one last deep breath and putting her confident face on before stepping out.

“Now ladies, I want you to be safe tonight, be smart and don’t do anything stupid, alright?” Frank gave them yet another pep talk, adopting the worried older brother character.

“Frank, we’ll be fine,” Hope reassured him, patting him lightly on the shoulder. “You’ve met the boys, they’re good, honest men.”

Frank snorted, “Your Major Cleven might be, but the other one, well… just keep an eye on Ruth, would ya?”

Hope laughed, nodding in agreement, “I promise I’ll look out for her, Frank. I always do.” Hope turned, moving to get into the car where Ruth was already waiting, her knees bouncing nervously.

“Oh Hope, I got you these. Use them if you have to but try not to need them.” Frank threw a few packets through the window at the girls as the car moved off.

“What did he give you?” Ruth asked, unable to move her eyes away from the road ahead.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Hope replied, quickly shoving the packets of condoms into her bag and out of sight, her cheeks blushing bright red at just the thought.

1715 HRS: Thorpe Abbotts AAF Base, Norwich

Gale and John were sitting on their beds, finally sitting down after pacing up and down for the last hour listing all the reasons why the girls might not show.

“You two are being ridiculous, those girls aren’t like other women. They wouldn’t tell you they're coming and then not show,” Hugh had reassured them, after Curtis had begun grumbling about the state of the floor in the officer's hut.

“There won't be any floor left if you two don’t stop your God damn pacing.” John just glared at Curtis but Gale was inclined to agree with him.

“Curtis’ probably right, you know,” Gale fell backward onto his bed with a loud huff, the back of his dress uniform jacket would probably be creased when he stood up, but for the moment he just wanted to lie down and try to calm his nervous heartbeat. Johnny continued his pacing and eventually, Hugh and Curtis gave up and left the hut, moaning under their breaths about the Major’s ridiculous behavior.

————————————————————————

It felt as though they had been waiting for hours when the car’s dipped headlights finally appeared outside their window, causing both men to jump off the bed and in a frenzied panic straight up each other’s uniforms and check their hair in the mirror before dashing outside.

“Buck, move it,” Johnny tried pushing past his friend but Gale stuck his arm out to stop him.

“Calm down, John. Alright, we don't want to run at them and scare them off.” Both men took a deep breath before casually stepping out of the wooden door as if they were going for an evening stroll and hadn’t been pacing for hours.

“Why hello ladies,” Bucky yelled, trudging through the mud to the car. The windows were down, and they could see the girls’ conversing inside. “Don’t you both look stunning.”

Hope scoffed at John’s compliment but couldn’t help but smile as she was the grin that instantly grew on Ruth’s face when she looked his way. He ran a hand through his hair and leaned his elbows against the car's open window frame, taking in Ruth’s appearance.

Ruth grinned up at him, her dimples making an appearance. “Hello there, Major.”

“Ms. Morgan,” he greeted, before stepping back and opening the door for her. Offering her a hand, John helped Ruth out of the car, taking her hand and kissing her knuckles gently.

Hope stepped out from behind Ruth, and Gale rushed to help, taking her hand and carefully guiding her past the muddy puddle beside the car.

“You look gorgeous,” Gale spoke quietly in his normal soft spoken tone, which Hope felt was almost like a whisper in comparison to his friend's loud, outgoing nature.

“Thank you,” she gave him a small courtesy, blushing under his intense gaze, and instantly regretted her actions but her anxiety was eating away at her. She’d secretly been worrying about this evening since they had been invited, although she would never have let on to Ruth how she truly felt.

Gale pulled her closer to his side, when he noticed Hope shiver. He didn’t know whether he was being too presumptuous but he pressed a delicate kiss to her cheek, and Hope had to do everything in her power to stop her knees from shaking. ‘It was only fair, she kissed him last time’ Gale thought to himself.

“Well Ladies, your chariot awaits,” John motioned to the Willys jeep that was parked beside the Nissen hut.

“We have to go in that?” Hope asked, he eyes shooting from the jeep to Gale and back again, before tailing down to her pale blue dress that was most certainly going to be filthy by the end of the drive.

“It could be worse, I could have made us ride the bikes,” Bucky laughed, throwing his arm over Ruth’s shoulder, as he led her toward the jeep.

“I’ll have to take you on a bike ride. Buck here isn’t as talented of a rider than me, so you’re lucky. See, he hasn’t ridden in the pitch black all the way from Dickleburgh in the pouring rain half-drunk, so… ” He trailed off, realizing he probably shouldn’t have said that.

Hope couldn’t help but laugh at John’s antics, knowing that his light humour would help ease Ruth’s nerves. Gale smiled shyly, linking his arm through Hope’s, “You see what I have to put up with?” Hope nodded, watching as John chatted enthusiastically to Ruth. “The bikes would definitely be worse,” he assured her and Hope laughed in amusement.

“Yes, I can imagine they are.”

“I looked like a wet dog by the time I got back. Could’ve given Meatball a run for his money.” John laughed and Hope looked at Gale confused. She sometimes wished Gale didn’t take up all of her attention so she knew what was being discussed, but then looking up into his deep blue eyes she soon realised why.

“Meatball?” Ruth asked.

“Meatball’s a husky Demarco picked up in Greenland. He’s kinda the 100th’s mascot. The dog’s-”

“That damn dog is pure wolf and is nothing but trouble. The damn thing howls like a banshee in the Fort,” Buck interrupted as he and Hope got into the backseat of the jeep.

Settling into the driver's seat, John threw an arm over Ruth once again. “Come on, Buck,” he groaned, looking back at the Major in the rearview mirror. “He’s adorable.”

“Not when he jumps on your bed soaking wet at 3 am.” Hope gave Gale a sympathetic look and he grimaced back at her. Hope had always been a dog person and she was sure she’d love Meatball but she too wouldn’t have been impressed with that kind of wake-up call.

This Meatball seems like a character,” Ruth beamed, “I’d like to meet him.”

Johnny raised his eyebrows, tilting his head down toward her. “I think that can be arranged.” He then turned over the ignition and brought the jeep to a rumble. “You dodos ready?” he asked the group, a mischievous smile on his lips.

Taking a deep breath, Gale made eye contact with his friend, knowing immediately what was in store for them and instantly regretting not taking Hope on a lovely, romantic bike ride. “Bucky, please don’t kill-”

Before he could finish, the jeep was flying forward, its tires spraying mud behind them as they took off. John laughed loudly and tightened his grip on Ruth’s shoulder, pulling her closer against him. Gale did the same, and Hope was suddenly very grateful for their close proximity as she hung on for dear life. Hope wasn’t normally motion sick, having been used to Frank’s dangerous flying but this was something else. The jeep flew passed other airmen on their much-slower bikes.

”You’re crazy!” Ruth cried, shaking her head at John’s antics to which he just cackled.

The jeep jostled around in the mud as they rode, and after hitting, caused Hope to clutch onto Buck’s dress uniform jacket, tugging at the front. She no longer cared how precarious this situation looked, clutching desperately onto Gale like she was trying to rip his clothes off. Gale chuckled in amusement, pulling her closer to his side.

“It’s okay,” he whispered into Hope’s ear, “I’ve got you.”

Hope shivered as his breath tickled her neck, her heart pounding in her chest. Her eyes were trained on Ruth, who was desperately holding onto Bucky and as soon as she latched onto him, Bucky let off the gas slightly, slowing down to a normal speed. He wore a proud smirk, but didn’t take his eyes off of the road.

Hope relaxed a little, apologising to Gale, as she loosened her grip on him but he didn’t let go of her, continuing to hold her close to his side, seemingly very pleased with the situation.

‘God, this man is going to be the death of me’ Hope cursed, under her breath causing Gale to look down at her confused.

“What was that?” Buck called over the din of the jeeps engine, a crooked smile on his lips and Hope prayed that he hadn’t heard her.

“Oh nothing,” she replied, but Buck just smirked at her and she was almost certain he’d heard her.

Ruth and Bucky were laughing in the front and Gale chuckled at their antics. “Well, they seem to be getting on well.”

“They do,” Hope agreed, a smug smile on her lips. She knew this would be good for Ruth and it was lovely to see her enjoying herself. Although the squabbling over baseball from the front seat seemed to say otherwise.

Hope leant over to Gale, “Is Bucky a Yankees fan by any chance?” Gale nodded and Hope tutted, “Oh dear, that could be a deal breaker.”

Gale laughed, “ Please don’t tell me your obsessed with baseball too?”

Hope snorted, turning in her seat to face him, “Not a chance. I grew up with Hugh, remember? When you’ve had to listen to him blabbing about the St. Louis Cardinals every day for the last twenty odd years you wouldn’t be a fan either.”

Gale smiled softly at her, reaching forward to brush a stray hand away from her face, “Well then, I have a feeling we are going to get along nicely.”

The jeep rumbled to a stop in front of a large building, the sound of music and laughter already reaching their ears. Placing the car in park, Bucky turned toward her, his signature raised eyebrow grin adoring his lips. “I have my ways,” he winked.

John chuckled and grabbed Ruth’s hand gently, helping her out of the jeep, before Gale followed suit, helping Hope straighten out her dress.

Gale took Hope’s dainty hand in his much larger one, before tucking her into his side once more. Hope had never felt so safe as she did right now and she never wanted that to change. If only I could freeze us in this moment forever’ she thought as Bucky spoke, “Shall we?”

Ruth turned around to spare Hope a look and she grinned at her friend in return before glancing up at Gale who was already beaming back at her.

“Are you ready?” He asked, leaning into her. She grinned, nodding her head enthusiastically.

“Very ready. Although I haven’t danced in so long, you'll have to be patient with me.” Buck swallowed hard, nodding his head slowly. How was he supposed to break the news that he doesn’t dance, to the woman he invited to a dance?

John and Ruth were in front of them, and Hope reached out and squeezed her friend’s hand with a nod. Sometimes she just needed a little extra push in situations like these. Seeing the interaction, Bucky’s heart warmed in his chest at the realization that the girls’ friendship was much like his and Buck’s.

“You hear that, Buck?” John remarked, raising an eyebrow at the man. “She thinks I’m handsome.”

Gale rolled his eyes, reaching for the door when John flung them both open. “Whatever, John.”

The soft music carried through the night and when John threw open the door to the officers club, they were drawn in by the pleasant voice of Ella Fitzgerald blaring from the record player in the corner. The band was on a break and they had gathered around the bar, a few of them still with their instruments in hand. John led the group through the crowd of pilots and their dates to the dance hall, which was not yet full. Most of the couples were at the bar getting a drink to loosen up after a hard week. The 100th flew six missions in the past six days, so needless to say, the men needed a break.

“Come on, I want to introduce you to the Red Cross girls you’ll be staying with tonight. They’re a nice group, I promise,” Gale reassured Hope and Ruth, leading them towards a small group of women who were chatting in the corner.

“Good evening Ladies, this is Hope and Ruth,” Gale introduced them, motioning for Hope and Ruth to step forward. A chorus of ‘good evening Buck’ followed from the smiling women and Hope could help the pang of jealousy blooming in her chest as they smiled widely at her date. She knew Buck was a charming man, as well as very handsome and she suddenly feared that she wasn’t his only girl. Buck’s arm soon found its way to her hip, squeezing it gently and Hope cursed herself for being so insecure before.

“Hello,” Hope thrust her hand forward and several of the women shook it in return. Ruth was a little more reserved, giving the ladies a wave and a smile from her position between John and Hope.

“It’s lovely to meet you two.” One of the women spoke up, her dark curls bouncing on her shoulders and her kind eyes gleaming. “I’m Helen, and this is Tatty,” she gestured to the shorter woman beside her.

Tatty grinned and raised an eyebrow at Ruth. “You keep a close eye on this one, Ruth,” she chuckled. “The Major’s known to start trouble.”

Ruth peered up at him cheekily, her lip quirking into a smirk. “He’s said he’s gonna on his best behavior.”

As John opened his mouth to respond, Buck smacked his chest. “I’m gonna make sure of that, don’t worry.”

The small group broke out into snickers and Johnny smacked Gale on the back as he playfully glared at him, the women continuing their conversation while the men ribbed each other. The Red Cross women were warm and friendly, making Hope and Ruth feel instantly safe and included among them. The duo shared a glance and knew they were going to get along well with these ladies.

“Sorry girls but I’m gonna be stealing Ruthie from you now,” Bucky interrupted, leaning down toward the group with raised brows before clutching her hand and pulling her away from the conversation. She waved goodbye and followed him through the crowd, her dark dress swishing with each step.

Gale stepped up next to Hope, “I’ll also be stealing Hope from you, ladies, but I’m sure we’ll all be seeing each other later on.” He thanked the girls and earned himself a few low whistles as they watched him walk away.

Hope giggled, watching the blush creep up his cheeks. “Come on you must have plenty of women flirting with you,” Hope pried, hoping she wouldn’t step on his toes but also curious. Gale was a mysterious man and Hope did enjoy a challenge, Gale was a mystery she was hoping to crack.

Gale grinned, turning briefly to look at Hope, “I have some but none have caught my attention… not until… you, Hope.” Gale couldn’t meet Hope’s eyes and the flush that spread up from Hope’s chest caused her breath to catch in her throat. Could a man such as Major Gale Cleven truly be interested in a nurse like her? From the look on his face, apparently, he could.

Gale popped over to the bar, while Hope found a table, draping her coat and bag over the back of the chair. She could see Hugh from across the hall and waved at him but he seemed too preoccupied chatting to Curt and several women to notice her. Gale came back with a gin and lemonade and a ginger beer.

“ I see Sparky’s got his entertainment for the evening. I swear if he tries to smuggle any more women into the officers hut it might as well be renamed a brothel,” Gale laughed and then remembered the company he was in. Luckily, Hope laughed too, obviously well aware of her brother's antics.

“That’s a new nickname, Sparky. How’d he manage to get that one?”

Gale took a long sip from his drink, his forehead wrinkling as he mulled over the question, “Well, Bucky had a problem with his jeep last week so our engineer over there said ‘Don’t you worry, Bucky I’ll fix it for you’. So Hugh’s there under the bonnet cursing and moaning, pulling things around before he tells Bucky to turn on the ignition. So Bucky’s there trying and trying to start this thing. Curtis comes along asking what the matter is and your brothers only gone and left the spark plug on the floor. Put it back in and the jeep was working, good as new.”

Hope could no longer contain her embarrassment, running her hand down her face, as she tried to contain her laughter. “Oh no. I swear his not normally that bad. I promise. He’s generally a very good engineer.”

Gale chortled, “I’ll take your word for that.”

Trying to change the subject away from her brother’s embarrassing behaviour, Hope noticed Gale wasn’t drinking alcohol. “You don’t drink?” Hope asked, taking a sip from her drink and enjoying the satisfying burn as it slipped down her throat mixed with the bubbles of the lemonade.

“No, never do,” Gale replied plainly, linking his hand with Hope’s across the table they were seated at. Hope smiled back at him, worried that she’d ruined the mood but too curious to leave it there.

“How come?” Once again Hope found herself prying when she should know better. Gale stayed silent for a moment and Hope wondered if she really had put her foot in it this time.

“My dad drank… a lot when I was a kid, and he liked sports. He liked to bet,” Gale trailed off, his eyes glazing over as he stared straight ahead. Hope nodded, understanding the situation, and squeezed his hand reassuringly, bringing Gale back to the present. He smiled weakly at her.

“So, tell me about yourself. What was young Hope Armstrong up to before the war?”

Hope laughed, “I wouldn’t say young. I’ll be twenty four in September.”

Gale laughed, “Good to know. I’ll add the date to my diary.” The pair broke into a fit of laughter. “But seriously, tell me about yourself.”

Hope pondered for a few seconds, debating what she should reveal to him, “Well, I was born in Missouri. I went to Stephens Junior College for Women in Columbia where I study biology and I worked as an orderly in the local hospital. It’s where I decided to become a nurse,” Hope paused, noticing how Buck was watching her intently, seemingly hanging off every word. He genuinely seemed interested in what she was telling him, which surprised Hope. Most men only asked the question on autopilot and didn’t really care what response they got. “I started my nursing training four months before the war started in Europe. I qualified in ‘42 and I signed straight up for flight nurse training.”

Gale nodded, taking a sip of his ginger beer, “and then you met Ruth?”

Hope shook her head, “No I didn’t meet Ruth until December ‘42 when we were paired together. They wanted someone more senior with the less experienced nurses and because of my previous hospital experience and an extra year training apparently I was senior,” Hope laughed. It had always amused her that she was the younger nurse but also the senior one.

Gale nodded, “And that was the birth of the ‘Skytrain Girls’.” Hope laughed but Gale just nodded, “It’s what Hugh calls you.”

“Of course he does,” Hope sighed. “So now it’s your turn. Tell me about the infamous Gale Cleven.”

Gale chuckled, “Okay… well I was born on 27th December 1918 in Lemmon, South Dakota. I was at the University of Wyoming but I left my studies to become a bomber pilot. That’s where I met Bucky, in flight school. It’s where I became Buck.” He laughed. Hope’s forehead creased as she thought over Gale’s words.

“So he named you after himself?”

“Not quite. Apparently I look like a guy called Buck back in Wisconsin.” The pair found themselves laughing once more and any nerves that Hope had were quickly being diminished. Talking with Buck was easy and she found her heart rate increased as Gale’s eyes met hers once more.

Their eye contact was broken when John fell into the chair beside Hope, an almost-full pint of beer in his hand.

Hope scanned the area, noticing the absence of her friend. “Where’s Ruth?”

“In the restroom,” Bucky replied, his eyes drifting to the stage.

Gale watched him carefully noting the thoughts behind his stare, “How’s it going, John?”

He took another gulp of his pint, wiping the foam off his mustache as he raised his eyebrows and spoke enthusiastically. “You know she’s a teacher?”

Hope nodded, her smile widening as she watched the man get excited about Ruth. “Yep. She loves music, too, and I’ve heard you might have a slight thing for it.”

Without a word, he fell back against the chair, his gaze looking up at the ceiling. “Buck, Buck, Buck. Don’t let me drop the ball on this one.” He looked over at the other major, the corners of his eyes crinckled as he smirked. “That was a sports reference if-”

“I know what it means, John.”

A few moments of silence passed between the trio, and Hope was about to speak when Johnny beat her to it. “Buck, do you think I should sing?” John looked at the pair, deadly serious, and waited for Gale’s response.

“No, you said you’d be on your best behavior. Remember? What happened to five seconds ago with “not dropping the ball?” Gale gave his friend a sideward glare, still looking at Hope. John went to stand up and Gale’s arm flew out, shoving him back down in his seat. “What did I tell you, Bucky? You said you really like Ruth, so don’t screw things up with her.”

“Yeah, but she’ll like my singing, right Hope?” Hope knew John meant well, but she also knew what Ruth was like, she hated being embarrassed unless she wasn’t the only one being embarrassed. It didn’t really make sense, but it was just how it was for the blonde. Things weren’t as bad as long as she wasn’t alone.

“How about I sing with you?” Hope suggested, looking Bucky dead in the eye. A wide grin spread across the pilot's face and he nodded enthusiastically.

“See Buck, ya girl knows how to have fun. Too bad she’s stuck with you,” Johnny quipped before chugging the rest of his pint.

Gale’s face seemed to drop and Hope squeezed his hand again, “Hey, I don’t have to do this…”

But the smile quickly returned.

“No, no, you go for it. Knock ‘em dead, Beautiful.” Hope grinned, quickly downing the rest of her drink and taking John’s hand as he led her across the crowded dance floor to the microphones in front of the orchestra.

An uptempo, big-band version of “It Had to be You” filled the air as they got positioned at the front of the room. As soon as the guys saw Bucky step behind the mic, they collectively groaned, knowing what was coming. Hope swayed to the beat as she waiting for their queue, and a wide grin formed on her lips when she looked over to see Gale shaking his head at her, unable to hide his own smile. Stuck in the moment with Buck, she missed the queue, but Johnny sure didn’t. The second his loud voice filled the dance hall, she instantly realized why Buck had been so adamant against the Major singing. She had to stop herself from bursting out into laughter as he began to sing while animatedly dancing to the music.

“It had to be you,

It had to be you.”

Hope then joined in, her sweet voice making Johnny’s more bearable. From his position in the corner, she could see Gale’s eyes widening at hearing her sing for the first time.

“I wandered around and finally found

The somebody who,

Could make me be true,

Could make me be blue,

Or even be glad, just to be sad,

Thinking of you.”

The nurse’s eyes wandered the crowd for a moment, but Gale’s infectious smile dragged her back back to him. at her as she sang them.

“Some others I’ve seen,

Might never be mean,

Might never be cross,

Or try to be boss,

But they wouldn’t do.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Bucky reach a hand out to the crowd, and when she looked closer, she realized he was pointing to Ruth, who stood in the back of the crowded hall with a blissful dimpled smile. The look of pure adoration on her friend’s face sent a surge of happiness through Hope. She hadn’t seen the blonde so happy for as long as she could remember.

Somehow, the rowdy and boisterous man beside Hope was able to bring out the person that she’d been trying to since they’d met.

“For nobody else gave me a thrill,

With all of your faults, I love you still,

It had to be you,

Wonderful you,

It had to be you!”

Hope decided to let Johnny have the grand finale and stepped back from the microphone. Based on the performance so far, she knew whatever was coming would be good.

“Baby, It had to be you,

Wonderful you,”

As the last note approached, Johnny extended his arms wide, sweeping them through the air in a grand gesture. The men were used to his antics at that point, so they were prepared, but everyone else’s eyes were on him expectantly.

“IT HAD TO BE YOUUU!” he belted out, his strained voice overpowering the music, causing a mix of groans and laughter to ripple through the crowd.

As the final notes of the song faded away, the room erupted in applause and cheers, most of them just glad Johnny was getting off the stage. He motioned to Hope and she took an elaborate bow, swishing her dress to the side and blowing a kiss to Buck, who caught it and held it against his chest. John then took a theatrical step back from the microphone, raised one arm high in the air, and with a dramatic flare, bowed deeply to the crowd. Hope took this as her sign to escape, scurrying off the stage and into the arms of her awaiting Major.

“You have the most beautiful voice,” Gale spoke softly, although no one around them would hear the news of John on stage.

“Thank you,” she whispered back, enjoying the burning sensation of Gale’s hand on her lower back. “Do you want to go outside where it’s quieter, I can’t hear myself think?” Hope suggested and Gale nodded, leading her through the crowds of people, his hand never once leaving her back.

————————————————————————

The cool evening air bit at her bare arms and she suddenly wished she hadn’t left her coat on the table. Gale noticed and instantly removed his dress uniform jacket, draping it around her shoulders.

“Can’t have a beautiful lady, such as yourself, getting frostbite now can I,” Buck joked, causing Hope to laugh at his chivalry.

“I hardly think I’m gonna get frostbite, Gale. It’s July,” Hope laughed, but seeing the way Gale’s face dropped broke her heart. “I don’t mean that I don’t want your jacket though… because I do. I’m glad you offered me your jacket. I really do appreciate it,” Hope stumbled over her words, cursing her anxiety but Gale just smiled, running his thumb over her cheek and tucking the stray hairs behind her ear.

Gale’s eyes suddenly diverted to the sky and he pointed upwards, just in time for Hope to see a shooting star, “Make a wish, Beautiful,” Gale whispered in her ear. Hope found herself wishing that the night would never end, that she could stay in Gale’s arms where they were safe forever. It was just a dream, and no sooner had the star appeared it was gone.

“What did you wish for?” Gale asked, noting the sadness that adorned her features, but Hope shook her head.

“If I tell you it won’t come true.”

“Well, we can’t have that then, can we? Especially if it was a good wish,” he uttered, his voice low and his eyes looking dark in the shade of the moon.

“It was a good wish,” Hope assured him. She reached up, running her thumb over his cheek.“I could just stare at you forever,” she whispered, enjoying how Gale’s eyes closed and he exhaled deeply into her touch.

“I don't ever want this night to end,” he murmured against her lips before leaning in. Hope had imagined kissing his lips before, how they might feel against hers, what he’d taste like. In reality it was so much better, not only did his lips mold perfectly to hers, but his hands came to rest on her hips pulling her flush against his chest as their hearts pounding in sync with each other.

“I hate to move too fast or be presumptuous, but never want to kiss anyone else for as long as I live,” Gale admitted, nuzzling his nose into her collarbone, sighing softly. His breath tickled but Hope pulled him closer, running her fingers through his blond locks and scratching at his scalp.

“Well it's a good thing you won't have to then,” she smiled into the night, enjoying Gale’s content sighs as she continued to stroke his hair, “Because you can kiss me for as long as you want to.”

“Hope? Is that you?” Hugh bellowed, rushing out from the side door of the hall, her bag clutched in his hand, the pair’s best friends on his heels. Ruth grimaced at the sight, and John pursed his lips, his moustache raising slightly.

Gale pulled away quickly but left his hand resting on her hip as he assessed the situation.

“Sparky, what’s got you in such a tizz?” He laughed and instantly regretted it when several condom packets went flying towards his face.

“Don’t you Sparky me, Asshole!” He hissed at Gale before turning towards Hope. “What the hell are you doing with these, Hope? Did he give them to you?” Hugh demanded, fist clenched at his side as Hope gathered up the packets, shoving them deep into her coat pocket. Her face was on fire and she couldn’t bear to turn to see Gale’s expression.

“So that’s what Frank gave you,” Ruth muttered under her breath from beside Johnny, whose expression morphed into one of amusement. Buck was always so straight-laced, and John found it humorous to see his friend in such a situation. Despite this, he was ready to step in at any moment to break up anything before it got out of hand.

“I wasn’t going to use them. They aren’t even really mine! Frank made us take them to be safe, but Hugh, I swear it’s not what it looks like,” Hope pleaded, removing herself from Gale’s side to go to her brother. “Hugh, I swear, I just shoved them in my bag on the way.”

She stopped for a minute, eyeing her brother suspiciously.

“Hang on, why are you going through my bag?” The nurse snapped, grabbing the small leather purse from his hands.

“You always carry first aid stuff with you and I cut my finger on some broken glass,” Hugh admitted sheepishly, holding up his bloodied finger. Sighing, Hope took hold of her brother's hand and assessed the damage.

“I do have some stuff in my bag,” she sighed again. “Go inside and wash your hands. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Watching her brother sheepishly retreat, Hope’s gaze moved to Ruth’s. The blonde sent her a raised brow, but Hope just rolled her eyes and shook her head. Ruth grinned at the realization she wasn’t the one with the rosy hue on her cheeks for once. From above her, John smirked and winked at Gale, who shot a ‘I can’t deal with you right now’ glare back at him. Taking that as their queue to leave, he tugged Ruth over to the door and held it open as she walked through, giving the couple one last glance before shutting the door behind him.

Hope turned to Gale, her eyes full of tears and her cheeks red from embarrassment. Gale just opened his arms up, pulling her into a hug and kissing her forehead.

Hope mumbled into his chest, “I hope you’re not disappointed that I said I didn’t want to… you know… tonight.”

Gale just chuckled, kissing her forehead once more, “not at all. We only met just over a week ago. I’d never expect anything like that from you until you’re ready.” He was unphased by the situation and just held her for a little longer, until Hope decided it was probably time to patch up her brother.

“Come on, I can’t have you going back inside on your own.” Gale linked his arm through hers but Hope didn’t move.

“Could we stay out here a little longer?” She asked, biting her lip and Buck had to stop his sudden intake of air as he looked at her in the moonlight.

Her hair hanging loose in curls around her face, her big brown eyes looking at him nervously.

“Of course,” Buck reassured her, bringing her back into his chest for a hug. The music from the officers club drifted outside through the night and the music of Glenn Miller filled the darkness. Hope found herself swaying in Gale’s arms and he swayed along with her, his hand moving to the small of her back.

As they swayed together Hope couldn’t help but chuckle, “And to think that you said you don’t dance.”

Gale laughed, looking down at the beautiful woman in his arms, “Well, maybe I just needed to find the right partner.”

The night soon came to an end, the music dying down and the airmen and their dates eventually scattering across the base.

After patching up a rather embarrassed Hugh, who couldn’t apologise enough and was eventually escorted away by an amused Curt, Hope spent the rest of the evening cradled in Gale’s arms. They had spent the last half an hour swaying slowly to the music that played softly through the window and chatting quietly until 11 pm came and the music died down.

“I suppose we should start heading back to the Red Cross barracks,” Gale whispered slowly even to Hope’s ear and she reluctantly pulled away, nodding sadly.

“I don’t want this night to end. I’ve never had an evening like this with a man such as yourself,” Hope spoke softly, causing Gale to smile and her sudden shyness.

“I don’t want this evening to end either but I have a feeling your brother will have my guts if I’m late back,” he laughed and Hope giggled too, clutching Gale’s hand.

“Come on then, Major.”

They walked slowly, Gale’s hand resting on her hip and Hope’s body pressed closely to his body. Gale had draped his flying jacket around her shoulders and the fabric smelt strongly over his aftershave that had been intoxicating her all evening. She could happily stay wrapped in his embrace forever but they all too quickly approached the Nissan hut inhabited by the Red Cross ladies.

Hope noticed John Egan strolling away from the hut, a smug smile on his lips as he punched the air, shouting enthusiastically before continuing his retreat into the night.

“Well someone is pleased with himself,” Gale chuckled, and Hope nodded in agreement.

“I’ll have to ask Ruth if she had a good night.”

Before they reached the door of the Nissan hut, Gale stopped Hope, spinning her around to face him. “Hope, I had a really great time tonight. I never thought I’d get to spend such an amazing evening with such a beautiful woman, who has the voice of an angel.”

Hope blushed, averting her eyes to her feet, “Thank you,” she mumbled. Gale reached down, cupping his fingers under her chin and raising her head to face him.

“I really like you, Hope,” he whispered, before his lips captured her, moving gently but firmly and rendering Hope breathless. Without a second thought, Hope grabbed onto the front of his jacket, pulling him behind one of the Nissan huts, their lips never leaving each other. Gale mumbled something under his breath but Hope didn’t hear him, too busy concentrating on the feeling of his lips on her neck and his hands travelling up her sides.

Hope could have very easily given in there and then, absolutely ready to find a quiet room and continue their advances but she knew they shouldn’t.

“Gale? Gale, we can’t,” she whispered, her words coming out in small short gasps.

Gale nodded, stepping away quickly, “I know. I’m sorry if I overstepped the…”

“Not at all,” Hope quickly reassured him, clutching his face in her hands and bringing him down for another gentle kiss. “I want this too, but we can’t, not yet.”

Gale nodded her, kissing her once more, “Good night, Hope Armstrong. Sweet dreams.”

Hope felt lost as she walked away from Gale, but the warm embrace of his flight jacket cradled her as she walked to the front door. Her hands grasping the handle she turned once more to see the figure of the mysterious Gale Cleven disappearing into the night.

Tags: @georgieluz @malarkgirlypop @docroesmorphine @major-mads @violetdaze25 @bcofl0ve @precious-little-scoundrel @b00ks1ut @liebgottsjumpwings

#on a wing and a prayer #gale cleven #hope armstrong #Hugh Armstrong #Ruth Morgan #john egan #masters of the air

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pitconfirmbutton · 1 year

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what's in a last name | mick schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x oc (maria senna)

was the schumacher-senna fight going to be as competitive the second time around?

word count: 4.5k words warnings: death of loved ones, motorsport accidents, anxiety

not super happy with this one but wanted to get it out for y'all. most likely will be a part 2 :)

Ayrton Senna. Champion of 3 World Driver’s titles. Winner of 41 F1 Grand Prix. Holder of 65 pole positions. Driver for Toleman Motorsport, Lotus, McLaren and Renault. Father of one.

That one being Maria Senna. That’s me. I was born in São Paulo, Brazil on the 1st of May 1999. 5 years to the day after my father had died going into Tamburello at the Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari circuit in Italy.

I know what you’re thinking, that math doesn’t make sense. You’d be correct. My mother, Adriane Galisteu and my father had decided to try for children in 1994 and were unsuccessful. Ayrton wanted to be a dad more than anything in the world and as such they organised for IVF, a sample being taken from both of them. The crash happened and my mother swore she would never have kids, unable to face the pain of seeing even a tiny bit of Ayrton in someone else, wishing to never be reminded of the loss of him.

Life went on and my mother decided that she wanted to instead honour Ayrton’s legacy and as such the samples were used and 8 months and 24 days later, I was born. Maria Clara Senna da Silva. However, for most of my life, I went by Maria Clara Galisteu, hiding in plain sight. I had grown up hearing about my father’s talents and achievements, watching all his races on television. My cousin, Bruno would watch with me, placing me in a laundry basket and giving me a plate to steer with, copying his onboard footage.

My mother disapproved vehemently, not wishing to watch another loved one enter motorsport and succumb to the same demise as Ayrton. She knew she could not stop me from wanting to honour my father and my love for what he did. As such I began karting at the age of 6, Bruno taking me to his old karting track in between his British Formula 3 season. I adored it and picked it up quickly, feeling my happiest with a radiator to my left and an engine to my right. No one in Brazil compared to my talent, except for my close friend and “teammate” Felipe Drugovich. I say teammate lightly, his father helping me as a mechanic at karting races when Bruno was away.

Felipe and I got along like a house on fire, making our way to Europe together, both of us competing in Italian Formula 4 for the 2016 and 2017 seasons. It was here that I met some of my greatest friends; Marcus Armstrong, Juan Manuel Correa, Enzo Fittipaldi and Olli Caldwell.

It was also here that I met my biggest enemy, Mick Schumacher. I will be honest, but only because I’m telling you, I probably wouldn’t have hated him if it wasn’t for his last name. I was aware of my father’s battles with Michael, and this meant that I immediately held a grudge. I still remember him coming over to shake my hand, his bright red Prema hoodie making him impossible to miss. “Hey, it’s so nice to meet you, I’m Mick.” His hand suspended between us. “I know who you are,” was all I said, turning on my heels and walking back into the Van Amersfoort Racing trailer. “Spoilt brat” was all Mick whispered under his breath as I turned. I hadn’t told anyone who my father was and as such, I had no leg to stand on as to why I was angry at him. Chatting to Juan Manuel one day he had asked about Mick. “Why do you hate him so much?” I pushed my pasta around the bowl a bit. “I don’t hate him, he’s just so up himself.” “Wait, are we talking about the same person?” “Oh yeah, I forgot, it’s probably in your contract to protect the Prema golden boy.” “Give him a chance, Maria.” “No thanks.”

I was meticulous, always the first driver to the track and the last one to leave. I would go over data for hours, spend time with my engineers and walk the track as much as I needed. I was a winner and I was a winner because I put in more work than anyone else. Although in 2016, I placed second, the first loser to my number one rival, Mick Schumacher. But in 2017, I won.

2018 brought on a move to the FIA Formula 3 Championship, staying with Van Amersfoort Racing. I kept my friends and I kept my discipline. The way I held myself, trained, practised and raced brought the attention of a few driver academies. Nothing would have prepared me for the email I received halfway through 2018, the header filled with papaya orange and the footer containing the speedy kiwi. “I am taking us home, dad.”

2018 involved me coming second… again, to Mick Schumacher… again. I was beyond annoyed but I was able to move up to Formula 2 for 2019, moving to Prema of all places, alongside Mick himself. I was peeved but I knew the car was fast and I knew I could ignore him like I had the last 3 years. He was not going to ruin this for me now. With my McLaren backing, I had a real shot to get to Formula 1, I needed these super license points and I was ready to do anything to get them.

“Do you ever have fun?” Mick had said as he entered our driver’s trailer, watching me highlight my data and analyse a different graph on my iPad. “It is fun, you’d find it fun too if you won more.” I quipped back. He scoffed and sat down next to me at the table. I slid my notes and data up into a pile and put it in my bag, turning to look at him, arms crossed and an unamused expression on my face. “Can I help you, Schumacher?” I straightened my back, making myself seem scarier than I was. “Yeah, you can actually! I want to know why you hate me so much! You are friends with everyone, except me. Why?” He looked exasperated, flailing his hands around in a way that I had never seen before from the usually composed and cool-headed German. “You are just so entitled, Mick! Using your last name to get you wherever you need to go! Showing it off to the world like it is something to be so smug about. You know some of us had to work to get here, right? On merit and hard work!” I had stood up, knocking my chair to the ground, pointing down at him. He stood to match me. “How dare you, Maria! I can’t help that I am my father’s son and I cannot help that I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to make it to where I am. But you know what, I would give it all up, in a single second, if it meant that I got to talk to my dad one more time. If I got to hear him say he loved me one more time. So yeah, I have the most powerful last name in Formula 1 history, but I wear it like a fucking badge of honour because every day I go out on track, I can only hope to be half the driver that he was. That is something that you will never understand.” He was breathing heavily, piercing me with his blue eyes. “You’re not the only one with a father who is no longer here, Mick” and with that I stormed out of the trailer, ready to run the track 2 more times to purge my brain of the conversation.

I won that weekend, at the Hungaroring. A place my father had taken 3 wins in Formula 1. I smiled up at him on that podium, hoping that I was making him proud. I turned to my right, briefly looking at Mick, wondering if he thought the same thing every time he was on a podium too. I wondered if he was thinking about his dad’s four wins here in Hungary. I shook my head slightly, fighting to free the thought of how similar we were. I didn’t want us to be, but there was no denying it.

Five. That was the number. The number of wins that my father had taken here at Spa-Francorchamps. I was hoping to have my first. I knew Mick was too.

“Red flag, red flag, red flag!” My heart sunk. I had watched the two cars collide in my mirrors. The bright pink car turning to scattered pieces in less than a second. Being around motorsport for my whole life, I knew, I could tell. It was not good. And for the first time in my racing career, I realised that I couldn’t breathe. I’d never felt like this before. “Oh my god” was all my lungs could push out down the radio as I headed back to the pits.

“Everything ok, Maria? Do you have a puncture? You are traveling quite slow but we can’t see anything here on the data.” I couldn’t answer, I could barely breathe and I felt like my world was going to collapse. The 1st of May 1995 had come flooding back to my mind, but this time, instead of my father, it was my friend, a good friend at that. In that moment, as I sat in my car, finally back in the pits, I experienced the grief of my father’s death 24 years ago. An event I never had to mourn until now.

I was suffocating and suddenly my suit was too tight, my harness felt like vines trying to pull me to hell and my helmet felt like it was trying to kill me, compressing my head. I was clawing at my neck, unable to find my zipper or my helmet strap with my gloves on but when I tried to remove them, my fingers didn’t move. I told them to and they didn’t. I realised in that moment that I had been screaming, the sound so muffled by my helmet and the roar of engines, the blast of sirens and the chatter of people. But then my neck didn’t feel as constricted and when I lulled my head, I was staring back at Mick. He flipped my visor up, the breeze stinging my tear stained face. “Let’s get you out of here, ok?” And with that, my harness was undone and I was lifted from my car. My legs gave way and my sobs were so much louder now, Mick propping me up as he rushed me through the garage to our trailer.

I didn’t stop crying once, I was babbling nonsense as Mick lifted me to sit on a workbench in our trailer. “Can you take your helmet off?” He had asked, looking straight into my eyes, watching the tears flow. I shook my head, no, I couldn’t, I couldn’t even think right now. It took me about 13 more restricted breaths before I realised that my vision was becoming blurred and I could no longer distinguish Mick’s freckles from his complexion. He turned to wave someone over but it didn’t matter, I was out.

My eyes fluttered open, squinting from the harsh light that shone from the trailer roof. I moved my limbs slightly, feeling the hard massage bed beneath me. Turning to my left, I saw Mick. He hadn’t seen me wake yet but as I looked closer, I began to notice just how badly he was doing. He had his head in his hands, his shoulders moving occasionally, soft sobs echoing through the room. He was now back in his Prema hoodie and tracksuit pants, I had clearly been out for a while. “Mick.” I was surprised that my voice was even audible. He looked up and my heart broke and for the first time, I saw a scared boy. He no longer towered over me, he crumpled where he sat and his usually rosy cheeks looked pale and tear-stained. “Hey” was all I got from him. I stood up to sit next to him, transferring my weight from the bed to the bench that I had been propped up on not so long ago.

“Was it Anthoine?” I couldn’t look at Mick, if I did, I would break all over again. “Yeah. Yeah, it was. I am sorry Maria, I know you guys were close.” I nodded, looking down at my lap. “What.. what happened to you on that in lap?” He finally faced me. I knew he would have asked, I was always so fierce and composed, my breaking down was unheard of. I tossed my options up in my head but when I turned to look at Mick, I knew then that he could have asked anything of me and I would have. His eyes were watery but kind, not how I remembered them to be before that, always so beady and harsh. His hand rested on mine, softly to test the waters but then his fingers curled encasing my hand in his. I had to tell him. It was only fair. I knew he would keep my secret, if only because he knew my pain.

“My dad.” I was scared to say more than that but I knew it wasn’t enough to explain the situation. He surveyed my face, picking up on my need for him to continue the conversation. “It reminds you of your father’s passing?” He spoke timidly, without his confident facade, weary of upsetting me and ruining our first proper chance at friendship. I nodded in confirmation of his question. “He was a racer? He drove cars too?” Again I nodded, willing myself to finally speak any words. He smiled at my nod, resonating with the bond that children have with their father’s legacies. “Was he in NASCAR or Indy? Rally?” I could tell that Mick was racking his brain trying to place my surname. It was obvious that he knew all the F1 drivers and none of them shared my last name. “No. F1.” The way his head flicked towards me, trying to catch my eye to see if I was joking. I wasn’t. He was racking his brain for a question to ask, to confirm it. He wasn’t stupid, here was a Brazilian girl in front of him, the same age and there was only one possibility.

“Imola?” He leaned back, waiting for my reaction. I nodded. He didn’t react, just turned to look straight ahead, processing the information. “But, how could you be my age if-“ “IVF, yeah” I knew he would ask. He nodded again, seeing that it added up. “Does anyone know?” He turned to me again, his eyes softening. “No, no one, well except Bruno and my mother obviously. Not even Felipe does.” I sighed, it felt almost refreshing to be able to get this off of my chest and tell someone.

“I think in that car hearing the red flag called, that was the first time I properly grieved my father’s death. It had always seemed too far away and impossible but it happened again. I have never felt sadness like I have now.”

We sat together in silence until the team came and got us. It was only when Bruno, who had been acting as my manager during this time, gave me a weird look and I realised that Mick and I had been holding hands, finding comfort in one another as we processed the events of the day and the revelation I had dropped. Bruno’s look quickly softened when he realised just how upset I was, my eyes still watery and my skin pale. I thought at that moment, that I had hit rock bottom, that nothing would ever feel as painful as how my heart felt right there. But I think we both know that I wouldn’t be saying that if it was the case. Life has a way of kicking us when we are down and it kicked me hard.

Mick had messaged me throughout that week and over the next few races we had grown closer. Not friends just yet but we were amicable and I always felt his watchful eye on me. During interviews, training, conferences and racing I felt for the first time like I had someone ready to catch me if I fell. I showed my vulnerable side and through that, I had gained a confidante. He hadn’t told a soul of my secret and I was grateful. I suspected it was because he understood my desire to stay invisible, to be able to have the opportunity to rise through the ranks myself, a privilege, I realised, he never got. I had reflected on my comments towards him and had apologised, he knew now that I was merely projecting but I still felt bad.

The last race of the season was at Yas Marina, both F2 and F1 ending the 2019 season here. I was expected to win but I was only leading Mick in the championship by 7 points. It was close. I wanted to win and I hated all of the remarks from broadcasters and even my team of, ‘you can win the championship if he comes second and you get at least third, fourth or fifth’. I know they were trying to show me how possible it was, how I was right there, to win the championship in my rookie season and to be the first woman to win an F2 championship. I knew it settled my nerves, my engineer going over it all with me so that radio messages during the race made sense when comparing my results to Mick but I just wanted to be first. It was in my nature and no one would stop me.

As I walked through the paddock, my headphones in, the sound of rock pouring into my ears, I knew that I belonged here, stopping into the Mercedes garage, I quickly said hello to Lewis, who had been an avid support of mine, both on talent and my battle to overcome my diversity. He gave me a hug and a good luck and I was on my way again. As I walked the paddock, I became more and more aware of the eyes on me, engineers stopped what they were doing to point and whisper, broadcasters looking at me too. I was confused, obviously I was well known, I was leading the F2 championship currently but there had never been a reception like this, especially from the F1 teams who were always too busy (or too important) to care. I started my way back to the Prema motorhome, the stares starting to freak me out.

One second I was walking past a short alleyway between trailers and the next I was leaning against one, my shoulders being held and my eyes looking straight at Mick, his eyes filled with worry. The more I looked over him, the more I realised how dishevelled he looked, hair messy, face glowing with sweat and breathing heavily. “Mick, get off me. What is going on?” I stood up, straightening my hair with my hand. “I swear it wasn’t me. I would never do that to you. I promise. I’m so sorry and we will figure this out together. I’m by your side.” He muttered out, his ramblings so foreign compared to his usual composed and calm speech. “What are you talking about?” I hadn’t a clue what was going on. “Oh god. You haven’t heard yet, have you?” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his phone, tapping through an app before passing it to me.

“I’m so sorry, Maria. I needed to find you before anyone else did and let you know” His eyes were wide and his brows furrowed, pleading with me to believe him. My first instinct was to be mad at him, be so furious that I kicked and screamed and threw punches but I just knew it wasn’t him. If my teammate was anyone else, I wouldn’t have believed them but we had lived such similar lives, I knew he couldn’t betray me like that. “I believe you, Mick.” His shoulder tension dropping at my affirmation of his innocence. “What do I do now?” I was genuinely clueless. I had always had a plan in life, everything following as I had planned, but now… I had nothing. “Let’s go back to the garage and see what we can do next, Rene can handle this.”

My hands had never been as sweating as they were sitting in that conference room. I looked around the circular table, Rene, Mick, Bruno and then myself, that was it. “It’s true, Rene. I should have told you and I understand if you are mad but I really was just trying to make it on my own. I didn’t want to wear my father’s name like a label.” He nodded and smiled. “I know, Maria, I know. What do you want to come from this?” He reached across the table and squeezed my hand, giving me a sympathetic thin-lipped smile. He was like a father to me and what I imagined it would be like to have Ayrton around still, he was always pushing me, always wanting me to do more, but he was so proud of my achievements and wanted the best for me. “I don’t want to say anything until after the race. Please.” He nodded. “No media until after the race, you decide then what your answer to everyone’s question is. Same for you, Mick, no media.” He smiled and then let it drop, remembering that him being excused from media was because my identity was being leaked. It made me smile a little if nothing else. “Also, I have spoken to a few people around the team and apparently one of the mechanics leaked this to the press. He overheard you both talking after Spa and wanted to make some money off of this. I am truly sorry, Maria. He was been let go of immediately and if you would like, we can pursue legal action.” All I could do was nod, what was done, was done. But it was race time and I needed to focus.

In true Mick fashion, I had gotten a fist bump and a smile and good luck before the race. The Prema garage was tense but excited. No one knew what was about to happen but they were keen to find out, much like we were too. I won’t get into the final race, if you are reading this, then you probably know the results and if you don’t, have a look on F1TV, it wasn’t a bad race, although I may be pretty biased. All I can say is that, as I jumped from my car, parked behind the sign with a one printed on it, I was on top of the world. I wasn’t thinking about my father, about my team, about my mother back in Brazil… I was actually thinking about the person driving the car that pulled up behind number two. Who sprung out of their car like there was a fire and who picked me up and twirled me around like I weighed nothing. Up on the podium, as the Brazilian national anthem played, I looked to my right and wondered if Mick had the same thought as me, the next generation of Senna and Schumacher, the future greats battling it out on track.

“Yes.”

“Sorry Maria, what do you mean?”

“I know what you were about to ask me, yes.”

“We were trying to do the math before an-”

“IVF. Any other questions?”

“Is it true that you like the second-generation Schumacher more than your father liked the first?”

Looking over my shoulder, Mick was graciously completing interviews and my heart swelled. I wasn’t dumb. I had known all along that my projection of my own fatherly situation and my supposed hatred of him was to mask how I really felt. That the first day we ever met, when he came over, Italy coloured hoodie on and introduced himself, it had been love at first sight. Nothing had changed and looking at him now, chatting away with pride after just narrowly coming second in the championship, my heart felt the same love.

“He wishes.”

The next season, 2020, Mick had won the F2 championship and I was spending my time as the McLaren reserve driver, beside Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris, soaking in every detail I could and trying to honour my father’s legacy as much as possible. 2021 involved Mick in Alfa Romeo with Valtteri Bottas and myself now in the second seat at McLaren with Lando Norris.

4 years with our teams, blood, sweat and tears both on and off track. A few pole positions and a few race wins, a few crashes and a few too many DNF’s (although if you ask me, 1 is too many). Our love grew and was tested daily but I knew that nothing was ever going to change how I felt about Mick. He was the smell of pine amongst the ice of Swiss mountains, he was the reflection the sun made on the sand underneath the shallow ocean water and he was the soft crackle that a fireplace made. He was my comfort and my support through everything. We were private but never secretive and I knew that if he asked me to give up racing, I would in a heartbeat but he never would, it wasn’t in his nature.

I looked up from my laptop, a soft knock rousing me from my work. “Are you writing right now? On your wedding day, oh my goodness, Maria, no!” Lily was standing there in her bridesmaid dress, hair curled and makeup on. “You need to get your dress on, Lewis, you were meant to be keeping her on track.” She gestured to the man lounging on a desk chair, who sprung into action at realising the time. “Shit, Maria, you need to get ready!” Lily rolled her eyes. “We are all ready to go, so dress on and let’s get you married, hey?” I nodded and slipped into my dress, Lewis helping when I called for him to do the zip for me. With my shoes on, I was ready to marry the love of my life. “He would be so proud of you, prodígio. I just know it.” I smiled back at him as we waited in the entrance room of one of the Schumacher ranch barns. Having converted the whole property for our wedding. White flowers adorned the area, small candles in jars and a line of luxury cars, it was us to a tee.

As I met Mick at the end of the aisle, I had to tilt my head back, stopping the tears that brimmed. “You look utterly breathtaking, Liebling.” He was in awe and I felt more beautiful than I ever had. “You don’t look so bad too.” “Wait, is it going to be Schumacher-Senna or Senna-Schumacher?” He furrowed his brows together, wanting to make sure his vows were correct, I chuckled. “Take a guess, Mick. The Senna name won a championship first.” We giggled with each other before the minister started his speech. All I could do was look into those beautiful blue eyes and know everything would be okay.

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher fic #f1 fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

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waystarresourceco · 7 months

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The writers of Succession discuss the Kendall and Logan dynamic/hug in the last scene of “No One is Ever Missing.” After showing the scene at the panel, the writers walk through (a) the line between comedy and drama/tragedy and (b) Logan’s thoughts and motivations underpinning that scene. (x)

While the whole clip is worth a watch or listen, the last minute, where Jesse Armstrong and Lucy Prebble describe Logan’s thoughts/emotions while talking to Kendall, is transcribed below:

Jesse Armstrong: I think there’s loads of tenderness. I think it’s really mixed up with a fucked-up version of just enjoying that power. Like the whole – he’s been very destabilized in that episode where there’s a bear hug letter and the business feels under threat. And to feel another clunk of relief of like “oh this is how it’s meant to feel” with his supplicant son. Lucy Prebble: And being somewhat of a good father in that moment, and yet it’s ironic because what he’s enjoying about it, exactly as Jesse’s saying, is the patriarchal sense of being in control again and him being a little boy that he needs to save. So it’s toxic and unpleasant at the same time as he is protecting his son from bad consequences cause of something he’s done so it’s actually quite ideal for Logan.

Additional writing on this to follow, but I also wanted to mention that the above may be interesting to consider in connection with “Window Rumination,” a backstory piece written by Jesse that lays out a memory of six-year-old Kendall visiting Waystar, getting lost, and being saved by his father’s embrace. The same kind of embrace that almost thirty years later is both a comfort and a confirmation of the terrible force of Logan’s love. (x)

#okay but for real it is a love story #just like...a very upsetting one #more to come on this topic because i have too many thoughts #succession #hbo succession #kendall roy #logan roy #jesse armstrong #lucy prebble

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rizaposting · 18 days

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💜 and 💖 please!!!

Happy Monday~

Thank you for sending one of these! I'm going to try to be nicies even when I'm talking about my Hater Tendencies <:]

💜: Which character is way hotter than everyone else seems to think?

My obvious answer is Riza, like, sure, most people would agree that she's pretty or conventionally attractive but I don't think she has NEARLY as many simps as she deserves.

My less obvious answer is -inhales very loudly and dramatically- BREDA!!!! People are usually too busy being shitty about fat people to even realize that he's probably stronger than Armstrong (in a practical sense: strongmen and bodybuilders have incredibly different physiques and Breda is BUILT) and is super smart and would treat you right. I bet he has a fat hog too just saying WHAT who said that

💖: What is your biggest unpopular opinion about the series?

Ohh boy. FMAB is the worst iteration of FMA as a whole. People do not like when I say this because they think that I mean to say that it's bad and, no; as far as shonen anime goes it's GOOD! But it's still the weakest iteration. FMAB was never meant to be "THE definitive way to experience fma" like people treat it to be and it shows. The pacing was weird because it a) assumed you watched FMA03 already and b) was on a time crunch to sync up with the end of the manga, which is understandable but a huge detriment to it 10 years later. Easily should have had another season. Also imo it's ugly (especially in the earlier seasons) and I wish they had waited to product it until like 2013 or went with a different studio than Bones. 😔 If you LIKED FMAB I will beg and plead with you to read the manga because it's not very long, you can find it on MangaDex, and you will be surprised seeing what was changed or cut out entirely. You don't have to... but, I dunno, I've just never personally understood the mentality of "omg this is my favorite anime!!!! but I WON'T read the manga"....

I know there will be people pointing out my FMA03 bias, when some people would rank it lower than FMAB, but I would at least argue that FMA03 has it's own merit by having it's own identity that is uniquely it--if you want FMA03, you have to watch FMA03. For the "mangahood" canon, FMAB and the manga do the same thing, but the manga obviously does it better.

Obligatory disclaimer: You're very normal if you love FMAB. You're not a bad person and you don't have bad taste

#answered asks #ask games #unpopular opinions game #if you saw Theo's post about FMAB Royai Crimes I was helping him as he was writing it #i am a historical FMAB hater but now i don't HATE it i just think it could have been so much better than what it ended up being

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kenzie-ann27 · 8 months

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I know we laugh about jesse "doesn't do fanservice" armstrong not knowing about kenstewy, but what I find insanely hilarious is that stewy was only meant to be in one episode, but arian moayed's performance was just that good, so mr. armstrong writes a scene three episodes later where kendall says stewy gives shitty blow jobs. like what am I supposed to make of that

#how do you not know. like come on #i can suspend my disbelief for so long mr. armstrong #succession #kenstewy #jesse armstrong

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soonsie · 1 year

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Short Soon, son.

😈

In a previous post I mentioned that Monsoon has a civilian body which he doesn't use. Monsoon had the opportunity to provide info on the kind of civilian body he could have had, however he believed he wouldn't need one now that he was a literal walking weapon, plus he has a spare combat body so why would it matter if he had a human body? Well, Armstrong took some liberties and had one built for Monsoon, tho he may have miscalculated his height. Also he thought he'd do the guy a favour and give him his black hair back.

Currently, Monsoon's combat body is out of commission so his brain's been swapped into his civil suit, and since there isn't anything urgent for Monsoon to do on the field, his spare body's locked up until the other body has been repaired. It hurts to say he has no snail eyes in this body, but he's meant to look as part of the public as possible. He still has some of his cyborg strength tho, and the best part is he can eat with this body.

It's everyone's first time seeing Monsoon in the body and they're loving it.

Haha

He wants his body back.

#Fan art #headcanon #Mgr #Mgr monsoon #Mgr mistral #Mgr Sundowner #Samuel rodrigues #Winds of Destruction #Metal gear rising #Monsoon Mgr #mistral mgr #sundowner mgr #jetstream sam

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krash-and-co · 3 months

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haven't done this in a while, so here !! l&co as stuff I've heard/said in the past few months, bc I don't remember exact exchanges before then 👍👍

arguably more unhinged for reasons unknown. fate of Gods favorite clown idk

Lucy: I thought Billie Joe Armstrong went to the moon for a long time, honestly.

Lucy: [calling Barnes] there's a stranger at our house. she tried really hard to get in, and--

Lockwood, in the distance: we broke all the stranger danger rules.

Lucy: we broke all the stranger danger rules.

Holly: Lockwood, you have the coolest style.

Lockwood: thanks!

Lucy: what?!? she just tells me I look gay.

Lucy: and homeless.

holly: I want to help disabled kids ride a tricycle. wait, I meant to say horses.

lockwood: you want to help disabled horses ride a tricycle??????

Lucy: I don't have mommy issues I just don't like my mom.

Lucy: you gave me a framed photo for my birthday

Lucy: and within thirty minutes you stepped on it.

Lockwood: but then I bought you a new frame!!!

Lucy: and then I opened it, and it looked like you stepped on it.

Lockwood: well I'm not buying you another one.

skull: ugh, theyre so obsessed with how they look.

lucy, nodding: yeah, they're all "oh I'm so perfect!" preps. they definitely shave their legs.

Lockwood: I need to work on my swearing problem, cuz there are adults around and they don't li-- *drops thermos* ow FUCK

Lockwood: shut the windows. shut the fucking windows, I feel like we're being watched.

Lucy: hahaha, this is fucking terrifying.

Lockwood: here are the knives.

Holly: do you have any baseball bats? I don't want to stab people.

George: no, but we have crutches. we can hit people with them.

Holly, nodding: that's good.

Lockwood: I'm stupid.

Kipps: no you're not- yes you are. I don't know why I said you're not, so I had to correct myself.

holly: if we kill someone, we'll get in.... trouble.

George: shit!! I mean fuck!!! I mean crap!!!

Lucy, hitting him repeatedly: stop CURSING YOU FUCKING-- DANG IT!!!!!

Holly: do you ever get the urge to be randomly violent, like-

[loud clatter as lockwood and kipps beat each other up in the background]

holly: yeah like that.

Kipps, on searching for Bobby: I used to just grab any kid I saw about his height with brown hair, but that caused problems.

Lucy: what's your biggest fear?

Lockwood: what? spiders.

Lucy: no the other one

Lockwood: change.

Lucy: no the-- the other one.

George: what do you WANT FROM HIM-

lucy: you're going to make me have a gambling addiction.

skull, nodding: that's the idea.

George: pff my mom says im special.

Lockwood: im also special! they put me in classes about it.

[Lockwood and George burst out laughing while everyone else stares]

[Lucy and George are punching each other, screaming, and spewing out profanity in sign language]

George: literally nobody even looked up

Lucy: we're at the point where it's normal

George: yeah, haha!

Lucy: haha!

[a moment of heavy breathing and grinning before they begin fucking attacking each other again]

George, to Lucy: ugh im so sore. why do you keep punching me.

[Lucy punches him]

ok last one but this was a hell of a fucking convo and it was so funny everyone just jumped in with random twists 😭😭

[kipps crew, l&co, and flo are all sitting in barnes otherwise empty office]

George: kipps sounds terminally online, but I can't figure out yet if it's the normal kind or if he has. like. a kin list.

Lucy: the two extremes. normal or homestuck.

George: I read all of homestuck but it's okay I'm normal now

skull: im-

lucy: skull YOU'RE terminally online, but like the video gamer kind. kipps sounds like he had a my hero academia phase.

Lockwood: I was friends with someone who would roleplay mha all the time.

George: like pretend to have powers or something?

Lockwood: no, like pretend to be the characters. interact as them.

bobby: I don't roleplay, but I like to imagine I'm a different person with powers sometimes :)

ned: ha, furry.

flo: furry? one of my friends knows a furry who got her tail stolen, and she's in the office right now.

Lockwood: like today??

flo: yeah today. she's there right now.

Lockwood: [silence] oh.

flo: yeah they just. yoink.

[silence]

bobby: .....im not a furry but--

Lucy: aaaand gonna stop you right there before you make things worse for yourself

kat: why can't we EVER have normal conversations

#pov the most insane person you know has friends and theyre just as bad #bonus points if you can guess who was me bc a lot of these things i said some of lol #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #holly munro #quill kipps #george cubbins #george karim #bobby vernon #ned shaw #kat godwin #flo bones #montagu barnes #lockwood & co #incorrect quotes #sort of lol

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gothicwidowsworld · 1 year

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Mayfair M.A

Y/N L/N’s loved when she got to sit in on and be a part of Screaming Meals, whilst having cameras in her face had become a necessary evil in her career Screaming Meals was less media duties and more fucking about and having a lark with her boyfriend and their tightknit group of friends without having to worry about a show, a race, an interview or anything else her career and Marcus’ threw at them. Yeah Nah G’day was the jewel in the Screaming Meals channel at least in Y/N’s eyes watching Marcus & James slip back into simple Kiwi boy’s sharing stories & laughs, the occasional sly dig thrown in.

“I was just hanging around Mayfair the other day… I’m not flexing I’m just I was in Mayfair at a cafe with my girlfriend…” Marcus began already rolling his eyes at the face James was pulling at the mention of the infamous London location. “Was I there?” James asked quickly, the tall Kiwi forgetting to let the Driver finish his sentence. “Are you my girlfriend? Marcus asked sarcastically, raising a quizzical eyebrow in response. Resting back, relaxing more into the firm sofa Marcus continued his story “The cafe was reasonably empty, and I’ve sort of looked over to my left and uh… and I’ve seen someone. And I’m like she looks familiar. At this point Y/N’s given me a weird look, I’m like she looks really like Rihanna. Obviously, I didn’t say that to Y/N/N because you know I wasn’t looking at another girl but I’m also not stupid.” Snorting at his mates replay of his inner monologue James interrupted again “Debatable.” It was obviously in jest, but Marcus couldn’t help the offended look that filled his pale features. James and Marcus even Clém often poked fun at each other but they never meant any harm by it, it was just playground high jinks despite leaving school years ago. “So I’m like I’ll just get my phone, I check online um oh shit Rhianna is actually in London right now. And She’s realised that I’ve noticed it's her and there’s only like my table and her table” The Kiwi Driver explained moving his hands around to try to visually explain the distance between him and who he’d now confirmed as the famous Barbadian singer. “And she’s like basically from me to y/n away, she’s so close and I’m like oh my god.”

“Mate she’s gonna freak out when she sees this” James explained teasing the clearly excited Marcus, if there was one thing Marcus Armstrong was bad at other than singing it was hiding his emotions. It didn’t take a genius to work out when he was excited. From the way his soft golden hazel eyes would sparkle to the small twitches of his upper lip as he tried to bite back a growing grin. “I know” Marcus replied somewhat bashfully, an awkward laugh of disbelief tumbling from his pink lips. “When she watches this she’s gonna absolutely lose it. So I’ve realised it’s her and She can see in my eyes that I’ve just realised it’s Rhianna right. And she’s obviously said something to her mate who’s like right next to her and I believe that mate was A$AP Rocky. Quite a table next to us and uh so she’s mentioned something, and I’ve turned to my girlfriend and I’ve said, “Whatever you do don’t turn around.” Marcus trailed off mentally reliving the moment, his heart starting to race.

“Obviously the first thing Y/N’s gonna do” James stated with a shrug of his shoulders, it was a known fact the y/h/c girl couldn’t be trusted in situations like this. It wasn’t her fault; it was just a reflex she struggled to control no matter how hard she tried. “No I’ve said “don’t turn around Babe do NOT turn around, but Rhianna is on the table behind us”. And of course, my sweet sweet girlfriend has turned around. Um and then suddenly it just struck me I was like actually now that I realise it this room is full of security guards… And they’re all looking at me because I’ve just said that WAY too loud, and Y/N/N’s turned around.” Marcus recounted, a small smile breaking onto his face as he locked eyes with the aforementioned girl behind the camera. “Kind of like Clément Novalak in a Drivers briefing” James chortled purposely ignoring the scoffing that came from his female long-time friend.

“Exactly like Clément in the driver’s briefing… she’s going to hate that you’ve compared her to him..” the F2 Driver replied laughing at first before trailing off. It was a joke, a good joke even, but Y/N hated being compared to any Driver on the F2 grid or otherwise. Adjusting his headphones Marcus cleared his throat “And uh, my heart is like pounding, it’s like the most nervous I’ve ever been in my life seeing Rhianna, she’s looked me in the eyes and given me a look of disgust, something that I’m quite used to now.”

“It was not a look of disgust!.” the y/h/c young woman called out softly, a giggle rippling from her chest, her heart warming at the sight of a slightly panicking Armstrong. At the same time James decided to add his thoughts. “Yeah, especially from women… or Y/N’s fans” James added knowing that over the past couple of months the young woman’s fanbase had grown, and with that so had some of jealousy targeted towards the New Zealander. “Thanks man… And uuhh so I actually I felt so embarrassed for myself that i’d made her uncomfortable that I just thought I need to leave, Babe we need to leave. I just can’t believe I made her feel like this. Lets just get up and leave, I’m sorry I’ve ruined our date, but we just need to leave. So I’m like let’s go. And then Y/N just looks at me like I’m insane and walked up to Rhianna and says “Hey Rhi how are you” like it was nothing!? Then they like hug and everything and then we just walk out, we just go. I’m still buzzing now like yeah.”

“I can tell.” the taller Kiwi replied, “It is weird when you see like a full-blown celebrity in the wild.” James hummed a second later nodding his head slightly at his statement. “James, you see me all the time?!” Y/N hollered tilting her head slightly in confusion, some loose strands of y/h/c locks disturbing her view of the lighter haired man. “I said a celebrity!” James barked back in faux angst. “I’ll just go fuck myself then? No more concert tickets for you!” Y/N sassily retaliated losing the fighting urge to stick her tongue out at her boyfriends and unfortunately hers depending on how you looked at it close mate.

“Hold on a minute! You can’t do that!” James exclaimed loudly, shooting forward quickly, almost yanking his headphones violently. Turning to face his co-host James frowned slightly “Can she do that?” James whispered obnoxiously a look of utter bewilderment casting over his face. All the insurance broker got in response was a half-hearted shrug.

y/nl/n posted to their story