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cowboysandpilots · 3 days

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Secrets of a 30-Year-Old Flyboy — ch. 2

Fake Roonix, Secret Hangster | Words: 895 | Warnings: Blood, medical stuff, sickness, miscommunications, and boys being stupid.

Hondo was waiting for Bradley when he landed, having been listening on the comms. He was halfway across the tarmac when he saw Bradley collapse. He hollered over his headset for medics to get out there immediately. Mav ordered the squadron back to base as Hondo informed them that something was wrong with Rooster. By the time they all landed and had climbed from their planes, the military EMS team had gotten Rooster on a stretcher and were headed for the base hospital. They’d left, telling Hondo they would be contacting Rooster’s emergency contact. All of this, Hondo told everyone as they gathered around him, worry evident. Jake hung back from everyone, staying quiet as he listened to what Hondo had to say. He was pale, and his hands trembled as he stared at the blood that was staining the ground near Bradley’s Hornet. He was finding it hard to breathe. Jake should’ve known something was wrong. He’d seen that Bradley didn’t look good when they got up this morning—hadn’t for a while now. This was his fault. He should’ve pushed, should’ve asked. As soon as Hondo was done talking, Mav was sprinting across the tarmac. He was pulling his phone out of his flight suit's inner pocket and fumbling to call Ice.

Ice, unbeknownst to everyone, was already on his way to the hospital since he had been listed as the man's emergency contact since his mom died at twelve. He's too focused on the road to reach for his phone, which was sliding around in the passenger seat.

"We have to go to the hospital," Phoenix said immediately. She didn't care if the rest of them came along; she was really just speaking for herself as Bradley's best friend. She wouldn't go back to work until she knew he was okay.

The rest of the squadron is quick to agree with Phoenix. Despite everything that Maverick had been yelling at them earlier that day, they were a team and moved as such to drop off their flight gear and head to the hospital. Everyone except Jake. He took a few shaky steps in the opposite direction until he was standing beside where Bradley had collapsed. He was shaking, and his breathing was coming out too quickly as he dropped to his knees. “My fault,” he gasped, fingers touching the still-wet tarmac. “I failed. Failed. Failed him.” Logically, it wasn't Jake's fault. Bradley was a grown-ass man, and he could call in sick if he weren't feeling well, but for the last ten years, since the academy, since they started their friends-with-benefits, specifically, their BDSM dynamic. As the dominant, it was Jake's job to take care of Bradley, to read his body language and take care of him even when he couldn't speak for himself. He always felt as if he failed when he couldn't do that.

It took Jake a long time to become aware enough to realize he was alone. Everyone else had left, and he needed answers. Thoughts of doom, that Bradley had bled out. Had died on the way to the hospital. Or was in surgery and was going to die on the table. He kept circling through his head as he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled his way to his truck.

Maverick scanned the waiting room with wild eyes as soon as he got to the hospital. He’d seen Iceman’s car in the parking lot. He felt like he could take at least a small breath when he saw the taller man and made his way straight to him. “Please tell me you are still his emergency contact,” he implored, reaching for Ice. Dimly, Maverick was aware that most of the rest of the squadron was filing into the waiting room not long after he got there.

Ice takes Maverick's hand with a nod. "How many times am I gonna have to answer the phone to 'you're listed as the emergency contact' for this kid?" It is meant to lighten the mood, but he only manages a slight chuckle, not even thinking that the rest of the squad is listening. It wasn't the first time, and as horrible as it was, Ice knew it wouldn't be the last.

Taking a deep breath, Maverick closes his eyes and clings hard to Ice’s hand. Probably too hard, but he’d worry about that later. “Enough that we will both have grey hair,” he groused before he looked up at him. “Did they tell you anything? Do they know what happened? Hondo said he threw up blood and collapsed.”

Jake stopped just barely inside the doors to the emergency room. His heart stopped at Iceman’s words, and he pressed his back against the wall. It was that or collapse. This had happened before. Something had happened before. Something that made Bradley need his emergency contact. Last time, Jake had made it in time. He kept repeating that to himself. He’d shot down that Su-57 before it killed Bradley. And in Afghanistan, he’d taken down an F-111 Aardvark that had a lock on Rooster. Pressing his hands flat against the wall, Jake swallowed thickly. Bradley was going to be okay. Jake saved him. Twice. A man that stubborn wasn't going to be taken out by a training exercise. He was going to be okay. Jake just had to keep repeating that.

——

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#hangster #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #tgm #top gun: maverick #sereshaw #hangster fanfiction #hangster fic #rooster x hangman #icemav #natasha phoenix trace #robert bob floyd #javy coyote machado #mickey fanboy garcia #reuben payback fitch #my writing

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xxshadowbabexx · 3 days

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West Coast: The Train Ride

(Check series warnings on series masterlist)

You had left later than you had meant to, but you were lucky enough to still arrive on time to board the train. You weaved your way through each car, looking for any available seat. This is why you wanted to be early. You were almost to the last car when you spotted the first available seat next to a muscular, bear-like man. He didn’t look friendly necessarily, but a seat was still a seat and so you sat down, settling your luggage at your feet. He didn’t acknowledge you as you made yourself comfortable, and so you turned to introduce yourself. You were going to be on this train for hours, after all Being friendly might help the time go by.

You extended an arm out as you told him your name, and he raised his brow, columbian eyes piercing through yours. After a moment, he finally took your hand, you could feel the callouses that decorated his skin, scarred tissue that would never heal. Nonetheless his touch was nice, warm.

“Name’s John Price, doll,” he smiled sweetly. He had a wild, rugged look to him that you couldn’t seem to convince yourself to look away from, and found yourself getting lost in his colombian blue eyes. They were beautiful enough to swim in, and you found yourself leaning in, as if preparing yourself to dive and explore what lays beneath the crystal waters.

You hadn’t realized you were still holding his hand until you heard him chuckle. You blushed out an apology, letting go of his hand and folding yours on your lap.

“‘S alright,” he responded and your face flushed. What the hell allowed this man to be so attractive?

Then he smirked at you, “Don’t know, doll, guess it’s just genetics,”

Could this get any more embarrassing? Probably not. Was this man going to be the death of you? Probably.

You had a four hour trip to find out.

The next twenty minutes went by in silence, him reading a book you couldn’t see the title of due to his hand placement, and you watching the scenery blur by through the window.

You watched the green of the trees mix with the mundane browns and grays of the manmade buildings. Not necessarily a pretty picture, but a picture nonetheless.

Every now and then you swear you could feel Mr. Price’s eyes on you, but when you turned to face him he never was looking at you. But what did it matter? It’s not like you wanted this handsome stranger to pay you any mind.

You yawned, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back before settling again in your seat.

“Tired, darlin’?” he asked, and you turned to face him.

“A little,” you admitted sheepishly, smiling at him, but not looking in his eyes. You didn’t want to lose yourself in them again, and so instead you focused on his lips. On the thinner side, but they looked soft, kiss-able.

“You can lie down on me if you want, I don’t mind,” he spoke, voice gravely.

You blushed, “Oh it’s- I- are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother, Mr. Price,” you stuttered out, incredibly flustered.

“It’s no bother t’ me, love. But you don’t need if you’re not comfortable. And please, call me John,”

You bit your lip, contemplating the offer. A rest would be nice, so would cozying up to him. However, you didn’t want to impose. But he did offer, so he mustn’t mind, right?

Besides that, you’ve only just met him, so how can you be sure if he’s trustworthy? For all you know he could have ill intentions.

You must be more tired than you initially thought, and it must be clouding your judgment because you found yourself laying your head on his shoulder, muttering your stop and asking him to wake you then before you drifted to sleep.

•••

You awoke to a baritone voice in your ear, “Mornin’ sunshine, this is our stop,” he says as you sit up, rubbing the sleep off of your eyes.

“Our stop?” you question and he nods.

“Mhmm, I get off here too, darlin’,” he smiles at you, extending his arm out to help you up.

You let him walk you out the train, turning to him once you exit.

“See you around?” you ask bashfully, a undertone of hopefulness that you pray he doesn’t catch.

He smiles at you “if you’re lucky, doll,”

And then he was gone, disappearing into the crowd. You stared at the spot where he had stood for several moments before gathering yourself bearings.

Your best friend, Shelby, should be here to pick you up and take you to your apartment. Better to not keep her waiting.

You got into Shelby’s dusty blue Chevrolet, buckling yourself in as she started driving.

“So how was your trip?” she asked, voice bubbly as ever.

“Oh, it wasn’t much of a trip. I was just visiting my parents for the weekend, you know this,”

Shelby tutted, “I know, I know. But did anything exciting happen? Fun?”

You pondered that for a second. Was meeting Mr. Price- John either of those things? It wasn’t necessarily fun, and it wasn’t all that exciting in the moment. But he sure did leave your belly full of butterflies and critters of the like after.

You turned back to Shelby, “No, can’t say so,” you shrugged. Shelby knew everyone in this part of town, if John was a regular she would surely know him.

Which is why you didn’t tell her. You’ve been wowed by the idea of too many men and left disappointed by the real thing each time.

Maybe John would be better off kept in your head.

taglist

@frogtowne @glossysoap

#call of duty #call of duty x reader #john price #captain price #captain john price #john price x reader

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starsarefire824 · 3 days

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moonflower ch. 6

Chapter 6: Blameworthy

A few weeks after that night on the porch, in the middle of the hottest month of summer you and El broke up. I never really got the full story from either one of you, but it wasn’t loud or tumultuous. If anything you both seemed lighter, as if your romance had puttered out instead of erupting in a firestorm like so many do.

Even still, I knew she was sad. If not sad, severely disappointed. She spent every waking hour with Max that week and slept in my bed every night, hugging the plush giraffe you won at the county fair the year before and my arm tucked protectively around her belly.

But you…You moped around most of all, seemingly lost and avoiding being alone with me for any extended period of time. It hurt my feelings, but I understood. I still understand. You two were so entangled in each other’s lives it was bound to take some getting used to. To figure out how to just be Mike and El, untethered from each other and individuals.

I never brought up that night that you touched me, never asked what it meant or why you had done it. But I thought about it constantly, couldn’t stop staring at you and your hands, and the way your mouth was red and full and the truth that was: Your lips had been on mine.

You’ve always been my torment.

But after a few weeks, the both of you came around, and that’s when Max and Lucas started planning his 18th birthday party.

It was the middle of August, just before everyone was about to slowly pack and leave for the school they had chosen. Or for those who chose Hawkins, whether by choice or by circumstance, made ready for the jobs they had lined up.

You were less evasive, and we danced silently around each other for weeks, still nothing was said. But you sat too close when we played video games, and didn’t look away when our eyes met.

There was one night we were caught alone under the streetlamp in front of your house, bugs tapping against the light and their shadows blacking out little dots on the pavement. I remember the cicadas were so loud in the trees as we set our bikes down to catch our breath after climbing the hill from Dustin’s house.

I jumped off, leaning my bike against my hip as you threw yours down in your yard and turned back to face me, chest heaving. You looked down at me, skin flush with the heat and your eyes black as the night around you. I remember you licked your bottom lip because I couldn’t stop staring at how it shined in the light.

You were so close and you reached out to me, your fingers sure, but your face suddenly terrified. My breath hitched in my throat and my heart pounded when you slid your fingers softly across my temple and tucked a wild flyaway behind my ear. I didn’t know how to be or how to act, still so completely unused to being on the other side of the line we had crossed weeks before.

I thought you might kiss me then, and Christ I wanted you too. I ached for it. My heart raced in my chest when you leaned in slightly, your eyelids growing heavy and your breath on my cheek. But then there were headlights in my eyes and I flinched. The sound of the engine made you fright, and you stepped back from me, chest heaving and scrubbing the back of your neck with anxiety. When you looked at me I knew the moment was over, but you smiled out of one side of your mouth and regarded me fondly.

#byler #i never posted this oops #stranger things #will byers #mike wheeler #justmyname #byler fanfic #byler angst #byler moodboard #moodboard #stranger things 5 #stranger things fanfiction #journal entries #will pov #moonflower

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zorosprincess · 3 days

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Under the Mistletoe

PAIRING - Bodyguard!Matsukawa x Reckless!Reader WC - 2.8K GENRE - Fluff CW - mentions of alcohol and drinking, reader has an older brother

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

Matsukawa Issei prided himself at being the best at his job. He found it incredibly important and coming off so serious, quiet and intimidating, made him the perfect bodyguard. For the past few years he'd had the same assignment. He'd taken a job employed by a political family, assigned to protect their son, a childhood friend of Hanamaki.

Matsukawa didn't really become a bodyguard with the intention of being a personal bodyguard. Really, though, he couldn't complain about the hand he'd been dealt. His charge was incredibly well-behaved, easy to keep track of, and around the same age. It helped that after so much time with him, that Matsukawa started to see the other boy as a friend more than just an employer.

Matsukawa loved most of the family that employed him. Most of them. The daughter, however, the younger sibling of his main focus, was not his favorite to deal with. He intensely pitied her bodyguards. She didn't use to be so terrible... so he heard. Heard that the second she turned eighteen that she started to cause issues with her bodyguards.

In the years since then, she'd turned into what the press had deemed the "wild child" of the family. She was constantly getting into trouble, the party girl who made it her personal job to get each of her bodyguards to quit. She'd been, in the large part, successful in her quest.

Now, Matsukawa wasn't the biggest 'people person', he wouldn't even pretend to be. He didn't care much to work on his approachability or to make new friends. He was fond of the few friends he had, each in their own way, and didn't care to have more.

Just because he didn't care to work on his people skills didn't mean that he wasn't extremely observant of the habits of others and how he could interact with them. It was part of his job, after all, to watch and to take note of the people around himself and around the person he was meant to protect. Observe and figure out what was dangerous and what wasn't. Predict.

You happened to be in that line of sight a lot. Being the younger sister of the boy Matsukawa had been protecting for years put you there. You were constantly asking to be left alone, begging to not have a bodyguard, pleading for your independence. But your tendency to disappear for days on end only ever seemed to prove that you did need a bodyguard.

Matsukawa didn't think incredibly high of you. He found you too mouthy and loud, thought you were too promiscuous and risk-taking. You never double checked the cars you were getting into or the people you let into your social circles.

All-together, he was unimpressed with your antics, your habit of forcing bodyguards to quit. Corrupting them with your ways until they were ineffective at their jobs or simply driving them away. Either way, you always sent them off with a wave and a sweet smile that had no true good intentions behind it.

By that logic, it was why he was genuinely unsurprised with how you showed up tonight. Walked right into your family's Christmas party with no bodyguard in sight.

It wasn't that there was a huge attendance in your house that night, only your parents, you brother, Matsukawa and Hanamaki - who had taken on the job of being one of your family's personal drivers as soon as he'd graduated. Your home's general security staff were littered on the estate but it still put Matsukawa on edge seeing you waltz so nonchalantly into the party with no protection.

"Where is your bodyguard!" Your mother's voice shrieked, and Matsukawa's eyebrows raised in slight amusement as he sipped from his cup again. Your mother was always much more surprised than the others in your familial circle about your lack of protection.

"Oh," you laughed lightly, waving your hand in dismissal as you made your way to make yourself a drink, "he quite." The way you said it made it seem much more inconsequential than it actually was. "Something about not being able to fine me the other night made him a little crazy. Blah blah blah, something something." You shrugged as you laughed, stirring your drink with an amused smile. "Who knows really."

Matsukawa couldn’t help but scoff at the attitude you displayed. It really wasn’t his favorite, the whole 'throw caution to the wind' act you liked to put on. “How long since he’s been gone?” You hummed in question at your father’s question, feigning innocence as you tilted your head. “How long did you neglect to tell us that your bodyguard had quit, y/n?”

“Oh.” Your little giggle, a refusal to take the matter seriously, made Matsukawa glad that he had your brother to take care of instead of you. “About a week now.”

Matsukawa had been fine to ignore you for the night. He had busied himself in idle conversation with your brother as you entertained yourself with conversation with Hanamaki. You’d, thankfully, avoided him as he did you, finding him irritating whenever he refused to participate in your incessant need to mess with everyone around you. It was your moment of weakness that landed you both where you were now.

You’d stopped paying attention for only a second, staring at your phone one moment and smacking straight into a hard chest the next. You’d froze in your spot, your moment of weakness as you swallowed hard, staring at how his black buttoned shirt was tight against his broad chest.

“Are you okay?” You looked up then, realizing just who’d you’d run into while turning into the room. His black curls were slightly messy, the result of consistently touching it over the last few hours, trying to keep them out of his face. You were blinking up at him for a second too long as he looked down at you, trying to gauge if you were hurt at all or just in shock.

It was your moment of weakness that had trapped you both there, vulnerable to your brother. “Well are you gonna kiss her!?” Your brother’s drunken voice drew both of your attentions, your eyes snapping over to him before both you and Matsukawa’s eyes trailed up. You rolled your eyes when you saw the mistletoe dangling above your heads. However, you brightened up a bit, amusement dancing on your features when you noted how Matsukawa groaned, eyes falling shut in disbelief.

You’d never had the pleasure of being this close to him before now. It was overwhelming if you were being honest with yourself. Overwhelming with him towering over you like he was. You were feeling the compulsion to flee from the situation, but with all your family laughing and urging the two of you to kiss, it wasn’t likely that it would be possible.

You did, however, feel a bit of pleasure, watching him squirm uncomfortably, a look on his face that you weren't accustomed to seeing. You couldn’t help but note his hesitation when he looked back to you finally.

“What? Are you scared of a little kiss with a little girl, big bad bodyguard?” You teased up at him, a smirk on your lips as you stepped up to the challenge that your family was presenting. You were expecting him to scoff at you, to walk away, roll his eyes like he usually did when you tried to drag him into your antics. Expecting, really, anything but what you got.

He dipped his head smoothly. A single fluid motion had his hand cupping the side of your jaw easily, gentle but firm. He paused for only a moment just away from your lips to whisper his reply. “Absolutely terrified.” It was too quiet for anyone else to hear and too soon after came the feeling of his lips on yours.

Matsukawa didn’t mean to admit that weakness to you. If you asked him later about it he would feign it as your imagination or blame it on the alcohol that corrupted his blood. But at that moment, the only thing he could think about, was that his heart was beating much too quickly at the prospect of kissing a mere acquaintance. A mere acquaintance that he wasn't even remotely fond of. Afraid that it was his body’s way of telling him that he might not have as much of a distaste for her as he’d like to believe.

Neither of you fully hear the way your family whoops and hollers at the action, much too focused on the weight of each others’ lips and presence. It isn’t until he pulls back that the drunken cheers of the family were loud again. Like opening a door to let it all back in.

It was you frozen now, flustered, heat creeping up to your cheeks as he walked away from you like nothing had happened. Like he hadn't just kissed you breathless. Left you stuck in your spot, fingers ghosting across your lips. Your stomach can't help but turn a little bit inside of you at the thought that creeps along the edges of your mind. Maybe he was more to you than just your brother’s bodyguard.

Matsukawa on the other hand, had left so quickly in desperation to pour himself another drink with Hanamaki. Maybe it was just the alcohol that was making him feel dizzy and act out in ways he usually wouldn't, but that was definitely not how he was supposed to kiss you. Not how he should have kissed the member of a family employing him.

Now that he was thinking about it, he should have just pressed his lips to your cheek instead of holding your face and connecting your lips. Not only connecting them, but connecting them for seconds longer than he should have. He hopes it's the alcohol. A funny feeling in his gut, however, is saying that it's wrong to even hope that.

You and Matsukawa both spend the rest of the night desperately trying to avoid each other. Your attention is kept mostly by your phone; calls and texts keeping you busy, while Matsukawa finds himself engaged with Hanamaki. Hanamaki, who unfortunately is stuck with his best friend because he knows the man is uncomfortable, and as much as he wants to leave, won’t.

Both of you too busy trying to avoid the other that you were completely missing the way your brother and parents gathered together to watch you both. To watch the two of you dance around each other as if choreographed.

Your brother nodded his head like a decision being made. “You know that I don’t really need a personal bodyguard anymore. I haven't for a while, now. She can take mine.” He tilted his head toward Matsukawa in mention, trying to keep his smile off his face as he suggested the idea to your parents.

“I’m not sure about that idea.” Your dad was still glaring lightly at the man being mentioned. It was a battle in his own head. On the one hand, Matsukawa was a good bodyguard, had always kept your brother safe. On the other, he didn’t want you to run Matsukawa off the way you had so many before. But alas, you needed someone to protect you.

“Is that what setting them up for that kiss was about?” Your mother questioned. She was referring to how your brother had sent Matsukawa to grab him another drink right as you had been coming back from getting one, letting him know that she'd seen his play even from across the room.

“It was proving a point.” He laughed lightly, like an inside joke to himself. “Have you ever seen her speechless like that before? When does she ever shut up?” Your parents were reluctantly nodding along, knowing what he was saying was true. “All it took from him was one kiss?”

“He could blend into her social circles better than some others.” Your mother mused, looking pointedly towards your father.

Your brother smiled as he listened to your parents conferring in hushed whispers. He knew what he was doing, it was his plan of course. You were wild and rebellious, and Matsukawa was stubborn and quiet, tough enough that you wouldn’t be able to run him off. He would be perfect at handling you.

Your brother really was more observant than most of his family. He’d seen the way that Matsukawa’s eyes tended to linger on you a little more when he was scanning those around you. Noticed how you tended to behave a little more with the bodyguard around, although he was sure you were both oblivious to that fact.

You were still yawning by the time that you came down the steps the next morning. Everyone had had way too much to drink during the party to drive home and had stayed the night, more than enough rooms littered on the estate for it to be an issue. You had no idea what you were walking into when you entered the kitchen looking for coffee.

Matsukawa had already been awake. He’d been sat on the stool in the kitchen staring at the coffee he'd made. Coffee he no longer thought was strong enough for the past ten minutes as your family talked at him. At him and not to him. He wasn't truly expected to respond.

He was swearing that the news he was being given was divine retribution. Maybe the punishment for crimes committed in a past life. Something he'd done wrong earlier in this one. Maybe just repercussions for enjoying the way your lips felt against his the night before.

“So, we think that you would be perfect to be her bodyguard instead of mine.” Your brother’s voice had been what had started Matsukawa’s internal debate about this being hell. His own personal hell.

He’d nearly dropped his coffee at the declaration of his former friend. A small “fuck” slipping out of his lips as your parents had joined the table.

“What?” Your brother was good at keeping his voice even, hiding the small smirk on his lips with the back of his hand as he watched Matsukawa’s face heat up a bit. “It’s not like you like her or anything, right Matsukawa?” Matsukawa had to stop himself from choking on another sip of coffee and didn’t even get the chance to address the jab before your mother spoke up.

“We aren’t asking you to love her.” She knew that you could be a pain. It was common for your bodyguards to include somewhere in their resignations: ‘I hate her, I can’t do this!’ or something to the likeness.

“We’re really just asking you to keep her in line.” Your father said, patting Matsukawa’s shoulder comfortingly. Then added as an afterthought, “well, as much as you can.”

“Yeah,” your brother got a side-eyed look from Matsukawa as he noticed the scheming tone in his voice (one he was too familiar with), “and if you need to shut her up, well…. You already know what to do right?” Matsukawa’s head tilted in confusion, opening his mouth to ask what your brother meant but was interrupted by you finally entering the kitchen.

Your eyebrows drew together and you narrowed your eyes as you took in the way your family was positioned. Everyone’s eyes had immediately gone to you except for Matsukawa. “What’s going on here?” You asked, gaze flitting from one person to another, trying to read the looks on their faces.

“Matsukawa is going to be your new bodyguard.” Your mother said, happily, as she set her hands on Matsukawa’s shoulders.

The words you instinctively wanted to let loose were were along the lines of ‘oh you’re fucking kidding me,’ or 'I don't need a bodyguard,' maybe even 'like hell he is.'

You paused, taking in the way Matsukawa looked in his seat, slumped and possibly even slightly uncomfortable with his newly assigned task. You thought back to the night before, how he'd admitted in a whisper to being terrified about having his lips on yours. Thought back to the feeling of his lips on yours.

Maybe he would be fun for you. You could feel your lips form a small smirk as you looked at him, devious thoughts and plans of how to corrupt him infiltrating your mind. “How perfect.”

And it was perfect, because even if he wasn’t aware of it, even if you weren't aware of it, he had a knack for 'taming' you. Your brother knew that. It wasn’t like anyone expected you to corrupt him. You weren't expected to chip away at his hardened exterior and weasel your way into his core being.

He was at your mercy now. But you were at his too.

a/n bodyguard matsukawa save me. save me bodyguard matsukawa

TAGLIST - OPEN @boosyboo9206

#matsukawa fluff #matsukawa issei fluff #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #matsukawa fanfiction #matsukawa issei fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #𓇻 PYWML

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outofangband · 2 days

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Updated rambly post about Morwen after her second encounter with Glaurung! I’m still working on my thoughts about this, I hope it’s ok!

I made some posts awhile back (here was the first)wondering about what exactly happened to Morwen between the encounter with Glaurung and her meeting Húrin again in Brethil. I’ve been thinking about it to the extent that I even have a tag for it now; and they saw her no more

Perhaps Morwen is hidden from Mablung either due to the lingering power of Glaurung or due to the curse, regardless of whether she was intentionally avoiding him. This is probably the reading Tolkien intended in my opinion.

Perhaps Morwen ended up imprisoned or trapped in Brethil similar to Húrin in the Wanderings. nothing stated or implied in canon leads this way and one would assume that there would be if the reader was meant to infer something like this. Purely in terms of headcanon or speculation though, I’d always thought that Avranc’s utter rage towards Húrin’s accusations to the point where he wants Húrin dead made more sense if they were either true or Avranc thought they were true.

Maybe Glaurung is right and Mablung is just really bad at his job. Morwen was nearby the whole time but either successfully hid from him or he just missed her (this is a joke to be clear)

but I feel like I left out another possibility

I actually am playing with the idea that in The Children of Húrin, like in earlier drafts, Morwen attempts to confront Glaurung to protect Niënor and was then thrown aside by the dragon, temporarily falling unconscious under the spell and waking up with little memory afterwards. She has the memory of experience within her body. She remembers how to survive in the wilds. She does not remember who taught her. She feels acutely the loss of Niënor and the worry for Túrin that brought her to these strange lands. She cannot remember her children’s names. Her own name forms upon her lips at times. She does not feel it as hers.

She travels through the ruins of what was the kingdom of Nargothrond. Birds have fled the dragon mist and flowers have withered in the spring. She remembers to eat rarely. She knows enough to be troubled by this.

Morwen regains her memories slowly. The faces of her children, of Húrin, Rían, Aerin, even her parents, return to her gradually, first as vague as shadows but then with the knowledge and certainty of their names.

She remembers the shadow of Glaurung above her as a child before she remembers that day she was thrown from her horse and everything was lost.

There are things that stay lost. She will never acknowledge them until she dies. They cut at her in the night. Her pride is unshaken. Her certainty is nigh shattered

Perhaps it is only when she sees the names on the stone in Brethil, that she fully remembers. Perhaps she remembers months before. She is barely aware of the passing of the seasons. There are moments where she is barely aware of herself. She wakes in places she does not remember falling asleep in, to injuries she has no memory of receiving

…but Morwen also was lost. Neither then nor after did any certain news of her fate come to Doriath or to Dor-lómin.

(That line also gets me so much. It just feels like she was erased entirely from the memories and places where she had been but at the same time her loss and vanishing is still felt acutely! I know that seems contradictory and I apologize if it’s confusing but that line just makes me feel both those axises of loss at the same time)

A grey wraith upon a mad steed…

#the silmarillion #the children of húrin #morwen #Glaurung #houseless for exiles #and they saw her no more #mentioned #Húrin #Aerin #Mablung #musing and meta #the wanderings of húrin

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ittybittybeastiebuddy · 4 months

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Staring into space wide eyed while an overlay of the birth of the universe plays

#beastiebites #im gonna have to do more research for sure but uh #went into the otherkin tag to see some more posts to try and understand it better and was Immediately struck by immense deja vu #like #oh my god i understand you guys on a goddamn spiritual level #yes i also did in fact grow up wanting to be a wild animal #i still chirp and meow and hiss to communicate #what do u Mean im not alone or a freak for doing that what do u Mean there were people like me out there this whole time #brb gonna fight god for denying me access to the communities that wouldve made me mentally happier for the last 20 years #seriously though of my god #i havent felt this seen since i discovered i was autistic and went to find out about other experiences #oh my god #i could actually cry #this explains So Much #i think whats getting me the most is that Im Not Alone there are Other Creatures Like Me and i just Didnt Know #Cause I Never Really Knew What Otherkin Meant But I Knew That Some People Would Be Mean About It And I Was Scared #And i try so fuckin hard not to care what people think of me but i was scared and that kept me from finding people like me #im not alone im not weird or a freak for this im not alone there are others like me

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andthebeanstalk · 6 months

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My sister-in-law frustrates me to no end even though we barely ever interact because she keeps inviting my partner to parties with her Christian Republican friends, even though my partner told her not to send an invite to us if those friends will be there. And even though my sister-in-law is bisexual!!

And then she turns around and complains about not knowing how to deal with her friends saying, like, horrible sexist stuff as though that is just some natural unavoidable quirk of having friends!

Like, these Christian Republicans she has befriended don't seem to be kind - they're not even nice a lot of the time! They don't make for good friends, and she doesn't seem happy or supported in relation to them. In fact, she basically only ever talks about how her friends and/or current boyfriend are making her unhappy!

Because here's the thing: The effect of prioritizing 'including your Trump-supporter friends at your parties' over 'being invested in creating a safe space for marginalized people in your home', is that people who DO care about creating those safe spaces... won't wanna hang out with you! Because if you invite both cats and mice to your table equally, only the cats will show!

She's so afraid of losing the shitty friends she has now that she allows them to act as barriers to accessing friends who are invested in her wellbeing in a capitalistic hellscape!

It makes me sad because she's basically trapped herself, and there's nothing I can do to offer help without either compromising my morals or making my partner's life way harder by starting shit with her family.

Like, I consider myself a good friend, yeah? I try really really hard to be one, and it matters to me immensely. I am ride-or-die for the folks I love, and I am invested in being open and vulnerable and radically safe to be around when it comes to building strong friendships that are mutually fulfilling. I have a unique talent for validating people that I have honed for years because I genuinely want to make sure people feel safe and loved and seen.

And if my sister-in-law and I were friends, I could give all of that to her. I would strive to be an example of what it looks like when someone decides to care about you and treat you right on purpose, without expecting anything in return but your mutual respect. She would be family. She would be [Queer] Family. I would see to it that she knew she could call on me when she needed a friend.

But like.

This asshole has invited me to hang out with Trump supporters on multiple occasions.

We ain't gonna be friends.

#original #diary #family shit #I'll just continue to act friendly at family events #my friends help make me a better person. i don't think she could say the same for hers. makes me mad and sad #reminds me of the time i had to end a friendship bc a woman i had been inviting to group events revealed to me that she was #literally friends with Kelly Ann Conway. yes the aid to the president. that Kelly Ann. and when i tell you this friend of mine did NOT #understand why her defending Kelly Ann Conway made me feel unsafe. it was WILD #that's how my sister-in-law reacted when my wife was like 'hey stop inviting my non-cis ass to parties with transphobes'#both made arguments similar to 'i already don't have many friends why do you want me to lose more??'#like girlies you can't invite me and a bunch of homophobic Christians to the same party what is fucking wrong with you??#you can goddamn bet if you came to one of my parties there wouldn't be anyone there who'd try to defend the Trump administration #loneliness is frightening and painful and no joke but cowardice is no joke either #and this attitude meant that my wife and i could not safely rely on her when we went through several crisis situations #and this is something i find difficult to forgive bc shit was touch and go over here for a couple years #my wife isn't even as salty as i am about it but she never is when the primary person harmed is herself #maybe if sister-in-law recognized the flawed behavior and changed but she probably won't tbh and i have shit to do #have fun with your fascist friends girlie i wonder if sometimes it feels more lonely than if you were alone #have fun practicing the white silence our parents got so good at; you're really carrying on the family business your dad must be so proud <#i haven't had to deal with friends saying sexist shit for literal years sorry you've made yourself unsafe to trans people i guess #making friends is hard i know that all too well. but i also know that the more friends i make who make me feel sad and small #then the less time i have for friends that make me feel loved and motivate me to be a better person. time=limited. people=over 6 billion.#school was harder because the amount of folks was more limited. same with small towns. but we are all ADULTS LIVING IN CHICAGO #capitalism makes finding friends harder too but like it has GOT to matter to you that Trans people and POC feel safe #we each have control over whether oppressed people feel safe around us. don't fucking waste that.

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angelhound · 1 year

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#have been writing lately instead of painting and idk…. how i feel about that #never have i considered myself a writer #i mean i write bad romantic poetry sure. but im writing fiction. novels if u will. and i Like it. :/#its uncomfortable. idk. maybe if i make companion paintings itll feel less obscure. perhaps a web comic will come out of it #ive never been into structured writing ever ever. but it felt… salty. like sweat drying on your skin. gratifying. to finish a whole piece.#it was a fit of mania perhaps. and i have more still bubbling there is much to create. i just have never created in this format before #hate it almost. digging my heels but its pointless to resist where the water knows to go you know? i cannot feel this way about painting #if that is not what is meant to be made at this time. the wild horse of inspiration will not bend to my comfort #yes i know i am an artist in the worst way. yes im aware of how i sound. i am not proud but i suppose i cannot either be ashamed #if i cannot be another way #idk i always wanted to be an airhead lol. before anyways. my grandfather does not understand his gift is as enviable as my own #hes not an airhead you could not imagine so after listening to him. but he is enigmatic in that way.#socialized better maybe. the gift of living as you imagine because you are not imagining at all #i never wanted to be reclusive. driven by fits of madness. but i dont have another way known to me #the life i imagine is lived by those who are not imagining it #but idk i think less nowadays. it helps to figure myself an unsocialized dog. something to be solved by careful hands #ugh. god with how i talk sometimes i wonder how it surprises me to become a pos writer. who else talks like that #anyways im incredibly ill still lol going to again attempt to shower the virus out of me

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caemthe · 2 years

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i'll tell you when you get your soft, italicized, "Oh."

the first meeting

life is normal. it's scripted. it's functional. then one day, you meet them, and... Oh. you fix your posture, you're a little nervous, and it's totally possible you're just projecting -- but this could be something. and the only thing that makes this different from the hundreds of other times you had that exact same thought only to be disappointed is... this is the time that counts. things change. you were looking for someone whose very existence re-contextualized yours. which is not to say that you were incomplete, but... aren't we all? isn't that the essence of being a being who changes? and what completes us if not the love of something or someone beyond us? sure it's still new, and anything could happen from here, but there's something in your shared brain chemistry that makes it feel like good things are in motion. how exciting!

tagged by: i saw it, i liked it, i took it tagging: @corrchoigilt @nulltune @shinncn @maljefe @hellguarded @hhemeraa @stovthearted @nvrcmplt @azurescaled @artorily @despairforme

#ferdia. ° ( saber. )#/ had to dig up my teen ferdiad icons because his and cú's first meeting happened they were young teens #/ and this is something i think of a lot since it's very fitting for ferdiad except for the 'hundreds of other times' because #/ ferdiad was this young fir dommann (not fae divinity. human or monster. but beings that slowly disappeared over time) that was trying his #/ best to fit in human society. and he was so careful about it and his wish to be accepted that he never got to be just himself or open up #/ to others which in turn meant no one got to really know him. he was just this tall and 'stoic' boy. scathach's best student which #/ put him a position of leadership even though that wasn't what he wanted. it only made the distance between him and his peers grow #/ and he hated it. his own thoughts held him back a lot… so you can imagine how he felt when this wild little thing suddenly showed up in #/ dunscaith demanding to see the terrifying warrior witch and telling everyone that he would be the best student and warrior there #/ this wild little fire that doesn't fit (nor tries to) the image of a warrior of their times everyone tries to pursue. this boy who makes h #/ his own path. who has the skill and strength to back up his words and is so very unapologetic about being himself #/ so how was he supposed to not fall in love with the little sun that shone so brightly in the land of shadows?#/ fer's love and admiration for cú used to be so cute. so how twisted and painful they become (as an avenger) is heartbreaking #/ to summarize: yeah ferdiad kind of is a hopeless romantic... DON'T JUDGE HIM!

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atrium-hq · 2 years

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ranboo :)

#atri.txt #<333 #new vid was very sweet #made me think #ive been here for a while dude #ive been subbed to him for 17 months #but ive been watching for *doing math* i think 20?#yeah i started watching him 3 months into his career which gets more wild the more time passes. damn #it’s so weird i remember like all of it vividly #i remember when he wasnt allowed to eat in his room so he secretly ordered a several pound bag of gummy worms and hid it under his desk #oh my god i remember when ranmail was emails #the first content i saw from him was one of the goddamn cranboo panic room streams and that is still so funny to me looking back #i saw that he was live and i was like hey i’ve heard a lot about this guy i’ve been meaning to watch him #i join the stream the Entire chat is saying hold hands chat in unison. i was like why are they doing that he’s just walking what #<- did not fully understand the concept of dsmp lore yet #this guy starts CRYING #this was the stream where he starts digging up the garden outside his house like a madman looking for a disc he had no memory of taking #i forgot why having it meant he did something but i think it had soemthing to do with him blowing up the community house #and the entire time he’s muttering to himself trying to convince himself it couldn’t have been him there’s no way #and then he digs 1 more block. and there’s a chest there. and i remember he just stared at it in silence for the Longest time #and he opens it and inside there’s a single disc in the middle and the screen goes black and he starts crying VERY convincingly #at least to me who had no idea what was going on #anyway i remember trying to form a text to my friend who was also slightly starting to take interest in related cc’s for like 10 minutes #like how the fuck do you explain that and do it justice i can barely do it now #like ‘okay. you know the ranboo guy right. you will not believe the stream i just watched’#anyway yeah we’ve both been subbed to ranboo for 17 months 💀#goddamn i miss cranboo his story was so good. okay as i’m typing this i realzied he’s in quackity’s lore that is Today i Completely forgot.#ohg my god #wow i have a lot to say about that guy #no fucking way did i max out the tags this is humiliating

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cinnabeat · 1 year

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i gotta say tho its so much easier to remember and process the plot of kh when youre watching just the cutscenes

#i think the fact that you play thru the game and theres so much soace between each plot point #and even that some plot points are super quick and easy to forget #or something major gets revealed and immediately after you get a fight like it doesnt give you the time to process whatever youre hearing #but just watching the cutscenes its like ohh i see now #i think playing the game and puzzling thru shit has its own charm like i like going thru the games like that it was fun if confusing #but its also good to just go back and watch the cutscenes #cuz im noticing so much shit now lmao and foreshadowing and im like oh shit thats what that meant #like that fucking scene where xemnas goes into the chamber of repose where aquas armour is #and when xigbar is subtly infodumping to zexion about ven and the chamber of waking and castle oblivion #which fucking wild that he knows that lmao #but when i was watching that again i was like oh my fucking god #michi tag #like most times its rrally hard for me to remember plot points if i binge shit #but with kh i think once u play it and then binge it after a while its like things stick better #or something idk its really fucking cold rn #anyways kh2 my beloved you made things so much more complicated and i was so not ready for that <3

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nightly-ruse · 10 months

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How come every time I try to just only track one family tree it suddenly branches and now there’s over a hundred characters and I’m so far from where I’ve started

#every single time with family echo #and what sucks is I can’t look at just each arcs cats #ruse rambles #I’ve made so many changes tho it’s wolf #wild I meant not wolf but that’s silly

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moonbeamsandmayhem · 1 month

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Idea for smutty request: virgin Eddie who has never even eaten a girl out so he asks if he can practice by eating reader’s pussy…. Ofc reader says yes cos she’s had a crush on Eddie for forever

a/n: I’ve been working on this for months. So for that, I apologize!

warnings: reader with titties, cunningulus, mentions of a shitty ex-partner. I think that’s it. Please let me know if I missed anything.

“You sure?”

“Ed—.”

He held up his hands in defeat, licking his lips anxiously. “I just wanna — I don’t wanna fuck this,” and he gestures between the two of you, “Up. Our friendship. You know?”

“I know.”

Eddie stares at you, deep brown boring into you as if looking for a flicker of doubt. There was none. Your friendship with him meant the world, and when he approached you with his request, well. You could never deny him anything. Your heart stammered and you could feel your cheeks heat, but you agreed.

His room had always been a safe space. The smell of old spice, burning wood, and Marlboro’s infiltrated your lungs, causing the tension in your body to uncoil. Ever the gentleman, Eddie made sure to clean up for you, have bottled water on the bedside table and extra pillows at the ready.

You started to shimmy out of your shorts, but Eddie’s hands replaced yours, fingers caressing every bit of skin as it’s revealed. “You’re so fucking pretty,” his tone is awe-struck as if he’s seeing you for the first time. Thighs squeeze together and he takes note, a sly little smile curling his lips. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“Nothing.”

He lifts a brow.

“Promise. Just never been referred to as ‘pretty’ before.”

The metal head blinks at you slowly as if he can’t process what you’re saying. “Not even Chad or whatever-the-fuck that dick ex’s name is?”

You shake your head.

“Asshole.” Eddie declares, strong hands finding yours, fingers threading together. “If you were mine… I’d tell you every damn day. You’re gorgeous. Not that you need my or anyone else’s validation.” His eyes soften, “Thank you for this.” It’s the first time you see a hint of vulnerability cross his features cutting through all the bravado. It makes your chest squeeze with affection.

He wastes no time, peeling away your underwear. You resist the urge to slam your legs together, shyness taking over. “No hiding,” as if he can read your thoughts, his eyes are the softest brown, pools of warmth you could get lost in.

Eddie kisses along your thighs, nipping gently, experimentally. Your breath hitches and he chuckles, hot breath fanning over you. A whine emits from the very back of your throat. “Sensitive little thing, ain’t ya?” He licks his lips before he leans forward, kissing directly onto your seam, head buried between your legs. He nestles his nose against the thatch of curls there, breathing in your scent.

Eddie’s breath is warm, the flat of his tongue dares to spread you apart for him, flicking upward toward your clit. He’s slow, calculated, watching your expressions for some guidance.

“Jesus Christ,” you moan, he takes a part of your labia into his mouth and sucks softly, humming around you , “you’re - you’re sure you’ve never done this b-before?”

You can feel him smile against your cunt, before his tongue dips, finding your entrance. You gasp, hands grabbing those wild locks of his, tugging sharply. He groans, deep and reverberating, the muscle curling inside of you, working in and out, searching for that spot. You grind your hips down, desperate for more friction. “God, Eddie - fuck -!” It doesn’t take much before you’re arching off the bed.

“Mmmhm.” He’s drinking you down, lapping and slurping at everything you have to offer. A calloused thumb finds your neglected clit, circling it in tandem with the actions of his mouth. Your own hangs open, spewing expletives, moans, praises, gibberish and Eddie revels in it.

The coil in your stomach snaps sooner than you’d like and you’re cumming, clenching around his tongue while white hot pleasure burns through you. He continues, working you through your climax until you’re pulling him off, tears streaming down your face. You both lock gazes, his cheeks are rosy, lips covered in your spend, eyes heavy with lust. As for you, your face is covered in a light sheen of sweat, your body flush.

Eddie makes his way up to you, caging you in between his arms, hair falling in curtains to frame his face. He reaches up to wipe away a stray tear.

It’s just the two of you against the world, all panting breathes and longing gazes.

He looks at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. For a second you feel a pang of fear that maybe he was having second thoughts. That this whole thing was a mistake and you should just forget it.

“Can I kiss you?” He finally asks.

You blink owlishly.

“Or - or we can not do that - that was a stupid suggestion, forget I said any- .”

“Eddie?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“Thank fuck.”

#dd writes #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson/reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson/you

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