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duskspring · 5 months

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Gifts - Dew/Everyone

Domestic December - Day 10

Summary: Dew gets the pack gifts for the season

Content (do let me know if I forgot anything!): Slightly anxious Dew, fluff, some quick kisses, talk of gender exploration and euphoria in relation to Rain

Word count: ~3.5k

A/N: Some parts of this fic are inspired by some headcanons I've posted before [My Main Masterlist]

The night was loud and unholy. The entire ghoul pack had gathered in their common room, celebrating the end of year festivities. Movies had been watched, board games played and so, so much alcohol consumed. It had, by all accounts, been a great night. But not for Dewdrop.

Yes, he’d been having a lot of fun, but there was a part of him distracted. He’d had an edge of anxiety all night, waiting for the right moment to resolve it. He knew he couldn’t wait much longer, since the night was starting to reach its natural conclusion in those wee hours of the morning.

He sat on a chair on the side of the room, leg bouncing. Two strong arms suddenly came down to lean on his shoulders from behind. He’d recognize those arms anywhere.

“What’s the matter, Droplet?” Swiss asked, “You’ve been a nervous wreck all night.”

“I’m not.” Dew argued unconvinsingly, before sighing. He knew he needed to just get it over with.

He stood up without another word, moving to his room. Swiss immediately followed him in concern.

“Hey, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t mean-”

“Nothing’s wrong, Swiss. I just need to grab something,” He stopped his stride, turning to Swiss with an almost pleading look in his eyes, “Please just wait here for a second.”

The multi ghoul was confused, but didn’t want to overstep. He subtly nodded a few times, “Alright.” He took a step backwards, his eyes staying on Dew, before turning back to the rest of the pack.

On shaky legs, Dew quickly made his way to his room. He had two plastic shopping bags waiting there for him, as well as a little separate package on his desk and another item off to the side for later. He put the separate one in his pocket before picking up the bags and marching back. He couldn’t stop now. If he just kept walking and got this over with, it'd be done. It wasn’t a big deal. Worst case scenario, the thought was still there, right?

“Ooh, whatcha got there?” Aurora asked the second he walked in. All eyes turned to him and he froze.

Just get it over with.

“Find out for yourself.” He said dismissively, putting the bags down and plopping himself down on the couch.

Aurora immediately crawled towards the bags. Half of the pack came a little closer as well, while the other half sat back, though still curious and anticipating.

Aurora dug through the first bag, grabbing the first thing she could get her claws on. She examined the wrapped package, soon spotting the name ‘Mountain’ written in Dew’s messy handwriting.

“Mounty, it’s for you.” She announced, throwing it over her shoulder without looking away from the bag.

Cirrus luckily caught it, passing it to Mountain. He looked at Dew in pleasant surprise, looking at the little flat square in his palm. The wrapping was messy, even on such a small present.

“Can I open it?” He asked dew.

“It’s your life. Do what you want.” The fire ghoul’s anxiety was getting worse, making him act dismissive as if it would distance him from the gifts.

He delicately unwrapped the package, without tearing the dotted paper. The first thing he was met with was an empty rectangle of cardboard. He turned it around, causing dew, who was paying very close attention, to bring his legs up against his chest.

Mountain looked over the cardboard a second, then third time, wanting to make sure he was reading it all correctly. There was a bit of text on there, next to a shitty doodle of a flower and what he could only assume was supposed to be Dew, all made with black permanent marker. The words were hard to make out.

“Exchangeable for one… at- attemoon?”

“For one afternoon of help in the garden.” Dew quickly mumbled in explanation.

Mountain looked up in surprise, “You hate the garden.” He noted.

“Well, if you don’t like it you could just say so!” The fire ghoul said defensively, his anxiety reaching its peak.

Mountain’s expression softened, “Dew… Thank you.” He got up, awkwardly bending over to wrap his arms around his packmate.

Dew was shaking like crazy, ready to cry at the positive reaction.

Meanwhile, Aurora had thrown a few more packages over her shoulder. Rain, Aether and Cirrus all got theirs. The little multi ghoulette huffed as she reached the bottom of the first bag, quickly moving onto the next. After throwing something to Phantom, she finally reached her own. She squealed in excitement, forgetting the few people that still hadn’t gotten their own and immediately violently unwrapping hers.

She found herself holding a small ziplock baggie. She saw Sunshine’s face, photoshopped onto a sun through it, quickly opening it up to investigate. It quickly became obvious that she was holding a little pile of different kinds of stickers. Apart from the Sunshine one, there were stickers based on everyone in the pack, all shitilly photoshopped in some relation from their element or name. There were stickers further referencing inside jokes, as well as some logos from Aurora’s favorite bands.

“Dewy, these are awesome!” She giggled, happily shaking her hands.

Cumulus came closer to her to look at the stickers, giggling at them herself, “Did you make these yourself?” She asked him.

Mountain pulled away so Dew could answer. He did so with a nod, “Aurora likes stickers. Easy.” Coming up with and putting together all the designs had actually been a nightmare, but he would never admit to that. He had zero regret, seeing Aurora’s reaction.

Based on the ghoulette’s excitement, everyone quickly dug into their own gifts. Cumulus handed out the few that hadn’t reached their reciprocate yet, including her own.

Phantom’s gift has a funny texture, only upping his curiosity. He rushed to unpack his, gasping and stuttering in excitement when he saw what it was. He could barely hold on to it with how much his hands shook.

“Whatcha got there, buddy?” Swiss asked, smiling at Phantom’s excitement.

Dew let out a sigh of relief. He’d been perhaps most nervous about Phantom’s gift, thinking it wasn’t good enough. Too lame or cheap, not personal enough. Seeing the quintessence ghoul’s eyes light up forced every last bit of anxiety to leave him.

The gift had indeed been simple, a little bat shaped fidget toy. You could spin its head around in circles, pull its wings back and forth and squish its little feet. Phantom immediately went to town on it, unresponsive to most outside stimuli.

Cumulus went next. Unwrapping her gift gracefully, much like Mountain had done. Her heart swelled as her hands grasped a book. Not just any book, but a photo album.

“Dew…” She said his name in adoration, flipping through the pages. Most pictures had been made by her. They were all labelled with a date and the place or situation in which they were taken. It was separated into three chapters: tour, home and Cumulus. The first chapter included photos from the stage, backstage and the tourbus. The second showed all the various shenanigans the pack experienced at the abbey. But it was the third that was most meaningful to Cumulus. She didn’t have a lot of pictures of herself, always being the one to take them of others. But Dew had somehow gathered just about every good picture ever taken of her, even some she had never seen before.

Cumulus quickly pushed the book into Cirrus’s hands, afraid she’d cry all over it. She sniffled, still seated on the ground. She made grabby hands to Dew, beckoning him over into her arms. The two entered a crushing hug while the book was passed around to everyone in the room, laughing and reminiscing.

“You fuckhead, really?!” Sunshine yelled in good spirit at Dew, holding up the book on a page containing a very unflattering picture of her napping on the tour bus. Drool leaked out the corner of her mouth, Swiss and Phantom posing next to her, pointing at the lewd drawings they’d made on her cheeks.

“It’s a good picture.” Dew argued with a smile, earning him a pillow to the face.

Sunshine rushed over in his disorientation, straddling his chest and miming punching him in the face a few times. They both laughed, Sunshine getting off of him again.

“Didn’t even get me a gift.” She mumbled, although her smile faltered a little. She’d been one of only two who didn’t have a gift in the bag. She was confused and hurt, but didn’t want to make a scene and risk ruining it for everyone else.

Dew looked at her face, silently reaching into his pocket and sliding her the little gift he’d kept separately in his pocket with a wink.

Sunshine immediately thought she knew what it might be, covering the package with her hand so no one could see. When everyone seemed distracted, she moved her legs up and unwrapped the gift behind them without looking down. She examined it with her hands, having a hard time not reacting. Quickly she let her eyes drift down, nearly screaming when she saw the lighter in her hands.

All the lighters she used to own had been confiscated for… reasons. And she technically wasn’t allowed to get any new ones.

She turned to Dew with a devious smirk, making him regret the gift almost instantly. But when she shuffled over and put her arm around his shoulders and rested her head against it, he knew it’d been a good call. He felt a lot calmer already, excited to witness the rest unpacking.

Cirrus went next. She tried opening it carefully, before just tearing it apart when it was taking too long. Her gift was one of the few in a proper cardboard box, also being the biggest. It carried the name of a clothing brand she was vaguely aware of.

She looked at Dew with squinted eyes. Curious, suspicious.

She opened it up to indeed be met with a sleek deep blue fabric. She picked and held it up, realizing there was another part of the same color in the box as well.

No way.

“Dew.” She stressed his name, putting her arms down again.

“Yes, dear?” He asked with a grin.

“Dew.” She looked again. It was unmistakable. He’d gotten her a suit. A full, fancy, proper suit, “I complained about not having a suit last week, how did you-”

“Guess I just know you really well.” His dismissive attitude came back with a shrug, not mentioning the fact that he’d run around town in a blind panic trying to get it on time during the busy season.

“I…” She struggled to find the words to express her gratitude.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Put it on!” Sunshine hyped her up.

Cirrus’ eyes lit up, throwing the jacket back down in the box and rushing out the room with it all.

“Alright, alright, now I’m done waiting,” Swiss said, looking straight at Dew, “I assume you haven’t forgotten about me.” There hadn’t been a gift for him in the bags either, but he knew better than to assume Dew didn’t get him anything.

The fire ghoul nodded, “One second.” And left the room.

His feet produced quick taps through the hallway, even though he was wearing socks. He hadn’t been able to bring Swiss’ gift in earlier, since it couldn’t really be wrapped.

“Dewdrop,” Right as he was about to pick it up, Cirrus’ voice came from behind him. He turned to the doorway, greeted by the sight of Cirrus in her brand new, impeccably sharp suit.

“I’m so glad it fits.” Was the first thing he said.

The ghoulette took quick strides towards him, hugging his head into her chest. She could be quite reserved sometimes, so she was glad to have caught Dew on his own.

“It looks great. Thank you so much. I love it.” Her voice shook a little with the sincerity it carried.

Dew stood semi awkwardly when she pulled back, “Phew,” He said stoically, though he did mean it and she knew that, “Guess you should show it to the rest then. I’ll be right behind.”

Cirrus nodded enthusiastically, skipping her way back to the rest of the pack.

Dew let out another relieved breath when she was out of sight. He really didn’t know why he'd been so scared to begin with. He knew his packmates well.

He could hear the excited oh’s and ah’s from the common room and knew he shouldn’t keep Swiss waiting too much longer. He waited another half a minute so Cirrus could have her moment, before picking up the gift and making his own way back.

“You did not!” Since Swiss’ gift wasn’t wrapped he could see clear as day what it was right off the bat.

“Maybe I did. Why don’t you have some fun with it?” Dew teased, holding out a very distinct guitar. At least it was distinct to Swiss.

He would recognize that damn thing anywhere. It was the first guitar he’d ever learned to play on, never allowed to take it on tour. When he returned from his first set of shows he was told he wouldn’t need the old model anymore, since it was best for him to get used to what he always used on stage. He’d never seen it again after that and a sentimental part of him had always missed it. But it was undeniable. This was the exact guitar.

The multi ghoul had never stood up so fast, making his way to Dew and practically yanking the instrument from his hands.

He inspected it, as if there was any doubt it was the right one.

“Hey, I know that! I learned to play with that thing.” Phantom mentioned.

“And it’s good that you did,” Dew interjected, “cause that’s how I figured out where they stored it. Don’t tell anyone.” The last sentence was said very quickly, giving Swiss a serious look that revealed that Dew did, in fact, steal the guitar.

Swiss looked at him with the same adoration he’d been shown earlier, but even more intense, “I cannot thank you enough.” The multi ghoul’s voice was low, soft. He’d never meant something this much in this life.

It almost caught Dew off guard, only able to nod and smile in response.

While Swiss excitedly moved to play a song, Aether had made his way to Dew’s side and led him back to one of the couches with a hand on his shoulder. Their legs touched when they sat down, making Dew move his head to Aether’s shoulder like Sunshine had done with him before.

“Should I be scared?” The quintessence ghoul asked half-jokingly, holding up the little box his gift resided in.

Dew shrugged, “Depends.”

“Depends on what?”

“Do you trust me?” Aether exhaled a laugh. Dew knew damn well he trusted him, he just wanted to hear him say it. He played this game a lot.

“Well, alright, alright. I trust you. Let’s see.” He removed the wrapping paper, not afraid to tear it but also not doing so in an aggressive manner.

He thought his eyes would bulge out of his skull with how wide they opened. Whatever he’d been expecting was nothing like this.

The little black ring box felt smooth in his hands, “I didn’t know you were so into human customs.” Aether smirked at Dew. The fire ghoul looked a little confused, until his friend clarified, “Are you asking me to marry you?” He already knew the answer was no, but it was fun to tease.

Dew scoffed, but couldn’t hide his smile, “You wish.”

Aether finally opened the box. The ring was a silver band, with dark purple waves decorating it all around.

“Saw it at a store, back in Cincinnati. It reminded me of quintessence, so I thought-”

The fire ghoul was cut off with a quick kiss on his lips. Aether’s face was so full of adoration, it made them both feel crazy.

“Four months,” Aether realized, “You’ve been sitting on this, and managed to keep it a secret, for four months.”

“I take it you like it.” Dew looked away from Aether’s face for a moment, a little bit of insecurity still lingering.

Aether forced him to look back with a hand on his chin, “It is perfect,” He kissed him again, “I just wish I got you something in return.”

“Please, don’t worry about it.” He nearly begged. Giving gifts had already been a struggle, let alone receiving them.

Aether dropped down, his head resting in Dew’s lap. He smiled up at him, fitting the ring onto his finger.

That left only one. Rain had waited with his gift, wanting to properly see everyone else’s reaction before getting caught up himself.

His was only a little smaller than Cirrus’ had been. He didn’t want to expect anything, afraid of being disappointed if he did. But he had a hunch. He tried not to focus on it, yet he couldn’t help a part of him hoping he was correct.

“Open it up already, I’m tired!” Aurora encouraged him, getting a poke in the ribs from Cirrus.

Rain took a breath, telling himself he'd be thankful either way. Because he would be. His heart swelled at the events of the evening, how much thought Dew had put into each and every single gift, finding things he knew everyone would like. And Dew knew him very well, right? Yes, he did, but Rain still scolded himself for his hope and expectation.

A strip of the wrapping paper tore away slowly, revealing the cardboard box underneath. Rain let out a shaky breath, forcing the rest of it out of the way.

Swiss jokingly started drum rolling with his hands on his legs, the rest of the room slowly joining in. It only made Rain take more time. He felt exposed with all eyes on him. What if he had an unfavorable reaction?

There truly only was one way to find out. He opened the box. His tense muscles relaxed in an instant. He knew exactly what it was. And god dammit he had guessed correctly.

Dew had not been anxious in the slightest about Rain’s gift, already knowing he’d love it. Although he hadn’t counted on Rain doubling over his gift, tears streaming down his face with a quiet sob.

The rest of the room couldn’t see the gift, some stares and raised eyebrows making their way towards Dew. But his face was confident, a small smile reassuring everyone that Rain’s reaction must be of joy.

The fire ghoul got up, knowing Rain would want to hug or kiss or fuck him on the spot. The second his ass touched the couch, Rain clung onto him, his cries somehow managing to sound overjoyed indeed.

The gift may not have seemed like a lot to most people. It was a blue ankle length dress with glitters on the top part and flowers embroidered on the skirt.

But it meant the world to Rain. He’d been wearing skirts more often, mostly in the privacy of his own room. It wasn’t that he feared judgement, he knew the other ghouls, as well as the siblings, would never look at him differently for it. But he just wanted to explore and experiment a bit at his own pace. Dew was the only person he’d discussed this with in detail, having shown him this exact dress. He’d been wanting to get it really bad for a while but always felt like something was holding him back.

Not anymore.

“No pressure,” Dew whispered into Rain’s hair, “but I’d love to see you in it some time.”

The water ghoul looked up, quickly wiping the tears off his face. He smiled, hurriedly getting up and running out with the box like Cirrus had done before.

“What was it? What was it?” Phantom quickly asked.

“Give him just a minute and you’ll see.” Dew responded.

Indeed a minute later, Rain shyly stepped back into the room. There was definite excitement for everyone, some showing it more strongly than others.

“Give us a twirl!” Cumulus encouraged, causing Rain to do just that.

He felt majestic in it. A fairytale princess come to life straight out of a storybook. It was euphoric, “How did you know my size?” He asked Dew.

“I don’t know if you realize, but I’m pretty familiar with your body.” He explained.

Rain smiled wider, walking up to Dew and picking him up right off of the couch. He twirled around again, with him in his arms this time.

“Thank you so much. This really means the world.”

“Everyone say ‘thank you, Dew’.” Aether said.

A big chorus of thank you’s sounded through the common room. Phantom came up to Dew, still suspended in Rain’s arms, and joined their hug. Soon enough it was a group hug with the whole pack.

Dew had already stopped worrying, but the reinforcement of everyone’s gratitude made him feel even sillier for ever worrying in the first place. He loved his fellow ghouls and they clearly loved him back.

[My Main Masterlist | Domestic December Masterlist]

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sassy-radio-hazbin-queen · 8 days

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Ok guys I want to share with you a theory that's been on my mind for a while now. Buckle up it's going to be a long one.

Warning for Angst

Ok so we know how In the ship RadioStatic everyone seems to be on Vox side. Saying he is the unfortunate victim and Alastor is the asshole. The belief is Vox confess his love to Alastor and he just laughed in his face and leaves for seven years.

I DON'T BELIEVE THAT AT ALL

And here's why. Btw it ok if you don't believe this a way I'm just sharing my thoughts ok.

I think that it was Alastor that confess to Vox, and Vox rejects him. But not because he didn't love him but because he knew Alastor didn't love him the way vox needed him to.

So we know Alastor is Canonically Asexual. He was Aromantic but that was announced non canon. So until it is announced cannon again I am going to say he doesn't mind Romantic relationships but he does mind sexual ones.

According to VIZIEPOP Alastor doesn't know anything about his sexuality. As far as he is concerned he just has not found the right one yet. But that doesn't mean he hasn't tried to.

I think he first believes he was in love with Mimsy. During his lifetime they bonded over , Jazz, Dancing and there rather interesting hobbies. They also were victims of abuse and bullying so they formed a bond. When they were Alive still. Alastor confess to Her. But she politely declined. She never told him why though. Although a little hurt he accepts.

Let's jump forward a few years Alastor enters Hell. I like to think he was burying Mimsy murderer when he got shot. Believe it or not she was kinda pissed that he allowed his anger to blindside him. ( She quickly forgave him though).

Anyway Alastor meets Rosie and once again he believes he found love. He loves how safe he feels around her. He can share his deepest secrets and vulnerabilities with her. They love music and old timie things. They both hate Susan. And he just feels Happy. So he confess to her one day. Rosie o f course declines. Hurt and a bit confused Alastor asks why. She tells him to close his eyes and imagine kissing her. Then touching her. Alastor of course grimaces.

She tells him. That yes he does live her. But not in the way he thinks. He loves her like a fawn loves it's mother. Once again he accepted and moved on.

Until Vox.

When Alastor first met vox he approached him like a curious kitten. Vox was a bit intimidated at first but Alastor showed no signs of wanting to attack him. Alastor takes vox in and shows him the ropes of hell.

Eventually Alastor feels the same pull he had with Mimsy and Rosie. He feels like he is in love with Vox. This time though he decided to take his time. To make absolutely sure that He does love Vox. So for 20 years Alastor bonds with vox. They cuddle, watch movies. Alastor allows Vox to play with his ears. He tells Vox about his violent past. Vox shares his story too. One day Alastor allows Vox to take a photo of him. It's the first and only photo of Alastor since he was a child. However In this photo he is smiling genuinely and not a fake smile. Unlike the photo of his childhood.

Alastor finally feels happy. Surely this was the romantic love he had been craving.

That was until a certain moth came to play. Valentino wormed his way into Vox life. Slowly vox began to change and not for the best. Alastor saw this and decides to confess to Vox before he loses him forever. So Alastor tells Vox his feelings for him. He is sure that Vox is the one. He must be. They bonded for 20 years. However Vox tells him those three words he has now come to hate.

" No you don't".

Alastor is confused and upset now. Probably pulling his hair and everything ( yes I headcanon him Autistic and trans too). Vox comfort Alastor but he is still hurt. Vox then explain to Alastor that he is in love with Valentino. He tells Alastor that at one time he did love Alastor but realized that Alastor just didn't harbor the same romantic love that he did.

Although extremely heartbroken. Alastor understands. Vox starts dating Valentino. Very slowly he starts ignoring Alastor. To hang out with the ' Cool kid' eventually Velvette joins and Alastor feels left out.

Vox used to hang out with him. Now he barely talks to him. Alastor doesn't understand at all. IT HURTS HIM DEEPLY. Still he keeps the photo of vox and him. One day Vox Asks Alastor to join the Vees. After 2 years of barely talking during this time Alastor aquires husk soul.

And because Valentino is a pervert moth, Velvet is a stuck up bitch and Vox BROKE HIS HEART. Alastor declines.

Of course vox threatens alastor and the fight happens. Alastor nearly wins but before he can kill Vox he is reminded of what vox used to be. So instead he runs away. As he collapsed to the ground with tears in his eyes the last thing he sees before passing out is his owner staring down at him with a disapproving look.

And that's my theory sorry so long.

#radiostatic #radio silence #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin alastor

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1-read-the-hobbit-in-1937 · 1 month

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Period Emergencies:

Warnings: None, pure fluff. Mentions of periods.

Authors note: No decription of readers body or anything other than reader having a period. no use of y/n or female character so this can be read as a gender neutral reader. This is written in first person using I,me,mine,my pro nouns.

English is not my first language so I apologise for any grammar mistakes etc.

W.C- 508 (yea... sorry this is really short)

Parings- CEO!Bucky Barnes x gn!reader

After spending hours of moaning and groaning restlessly in bed, I finally decided to go to the kitchen and get some ibuprofen. But upon getting out of bed, I fell to the ground with a large thud. “Uhhh” I groaned in pain.

“Baby, are you okay?” Bucky asked with a concerned tone in his voice.

“All good babe, just got my period.” I announced to him as I saw him come out of his office and enter our shared bedroom.

“Oh, okay. I'll be home in about 10 minutes, just stay in bed until then.” He responded, “Wait, weren't you in a meeting?” I questioned,

“Yes, and? I run the business, I can decide to leave if I want.” Bucky calmly replied. “Can you at least get me some ibuprofen?”

“Top draw of your bedside table.” He replied, disappearing from the door frame. And within seconds I heard the door shut behind him as his car pulled out of the driveway.

Turning to my bedside table, I opened the draw and sure enough there was a pack of ibuprofen laying amongst my other period care items. After taking a tablet I decided to hop in the shower and clean myself up a bit before Bucky gets home. As I turned off the running shower, I heard a knock on the bedroom door, “Come in!” I yelled to the visitor even though I knew it could only be my husband.

“Hey baby, are you feeling any better?” He asked sincerely. “No, still feel like shit” I sighed.

“Well, I got you some of your favourite snacks and some tampons and all that, we can watch a movie and just chill if you like. However I do have to run into the office quickly.” Bucky responded. “Yes! Let's do that. Why do you have to run in? Don't you work from home on Fridays?” I asked disappointed. “Yeah, I do. But some new employee almost shot himself ‘cause he didn't know how the fucking gun worked. So I gotta go sort that out, probably fire him or place him in an office job.” He laughed off.

“Oh, okay. I guess I'll see you later then"

"Bye doll, I love you” Bucky said as he brought me into his warm embrace.

“Mmmhh” I hummed, breathing in his sweet and all too familiar scent of cinnamon and peppermint mixed with his expensive cologne.

I decided to pass some time, snacking and watching tiktoks until my husband returned. And after a couple of hours, he did. I set up the bed for him while he got changed into sweats and a hoodie before crawling into bed beside me. “What do you wanna watch, doll?”

“How about, my all time favourite movie, Because I want a little cry today. How does the Notebook sound?” I asked sweetly knowing that Bucky hated watching it because he always had to hide that he was crying.

The rest of the night was spent watch multiple movies, snacking on tv snacks and pringles and cuddling with my Bucky.

Yeah, ummm. Well this was really shitty, but I hope u enjoyed that 😅

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luv4fandoms · 1 year

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Christmas Surprise (Dwayne x Fem!Reader)

So this was inspired by this prompt "Christmas pregnancy announcement" and as soon as I read that my brain went to Dwayne, and I knew that I HAD to write this. Also I went off of @auntvamp 's headcanon that it could be possible for the boys to get a girl preggos if she was a vampire as well. Cause I fully agree with that, with a human girl it's a no go, vamp girl, definitely possible lol. Hope everyone enjoys it ☺️

Word count: 1,360

Pairing: Dwayne x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Pure unadulterated fluff!

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬, 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬, 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Ko-Fi

You couldn't believe this was really happening, and honestly you were surprised he hadn't noticed yet, but you supposed it was still very early. You knew that you wanted to tell everyone though, and you knew you wanted to make it special, so that was how you ended up here at the boardwalk with Star, Laddie staying with the boys tonight while the two girls "shopped til they drop" as Paul put it, causing Laddie to quickly become concerned for you and Star until you explained what it meant and that the two of you would not hurt yourselves.

"Are you nervous?" Star asked, looking over at you while the two of you made your way along the shops, grabbing last minute gifts for the boys.

"Of course," you laughed.

"I mean, I have always wanted this but, I think everyone in my situation is nervous" you added, watching Star nod before a smile spread on her lips.

"Are you excited?"

"Unbelievably!" You squealed, watching as she laughed.

"This is something we had talked about but we always said it as if it were only a small possibility" you told her, thinking about all those late morning conversations you had while wrapped up in the sheets with Dwayne.

"He is going to be over the moon," she smiled.

"Which is exactly why I want this to be perfect" you smiled back before entering your first shop.

🦇🦇🦇🦇

Six shops later and you had Christmas gifts for everyone, there was just one place left to go.

"Ok we don't see them anywhere right?" You asked as you and Star looked around the crowd.

"No, but just to be on the safe side, I'll stay outside, a little ways away just so in case they come I can steer them in a different direction and they won't know" Star told you with a smile.

"You are the best! I won't be long" you smiled back before disappearing into the small baby shop. The sound of soft music filled your ears as you took in the store, racks and racks of baby clothes from newborn to toddler, toys, car seats, cribs, diapers, soap, creams, everything.

"Hello!" The young woman behind the counter smiled.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Um" you thought for a moment, wondering if this would be a stupid question.

"So I want to surprise my boyfriend with the news and I know it's closing in on Christmas but…Do you happen to have any sort of Halloween clothes left? It's sort of a style for us" you stated, motioning towards your darker attire. You were sure the girl was going to laugh and tell you that you were crazy, but to your surprise she headed towards a back room, stating that they had a few things left over. You waited as she brought out the small pile, laying them out for you.

"We have these," she started

"Mommy's little werewolf"

"Future Frankenstein"

"Daddy's little witch"

"Vicious lil Vampire"

"That one!" You smiled excitedly, looking up at her and quickly calming yourself.

"We love vampire movies" you lied, watching her nod.

"Would you like me to put this in a box so he doesn't see it?"

"Oh yes please, thank you so much"

"No problem at all. So how far along are you?" She asked while packing it up.

"Not far, I just found out today with a test"

"Your excitement says this was something you two really wanted," she laughed, while ringing that up as well as the other shirt you had found while she was in the back room.

"It's something we have talked about a lot, he's really good with kids" you smiled, thinking about him with Laddie, he had told you so many times about how he had wanted kids when he was human, but it just never happened. But he had hoped, now that you were a vampire as well, that maybe it would be possible, little did he know.

"Well from the sounds of it you have a keeper on your hands" she smiled, handing you the very discrete box.

"I'm so happy for you both, congratulations" she added, and you once again found the reality of it all washing over you…This was really happening.

"Thank you so much! You'll definitely be seeing more of me, and him" you laughed.

"We're always open! Have a nice night and Merry Christmas" she stated before you made your way out, quickly meeting up with Star and heading back towards the rides where you knew the boys would be. This was going to be exciting.

🦇🦇🦇🦇

Christmas couldn't come fast enough in your opinion, you all of course would be opening gifts as soon as the clock hit midnight, and you were unsure of who was bouncing around more, Laddie or Paul. The boys happily opened their presents. You and Star got Paul a bunch of new cassettes that he went crazy over, Marko received a bunch of patches and different trinkets you both knew he would like, and the fact that he immediately started holding them up to his jacket to figure out where to sew them confirmed that. Star had gotten David a box of really fancy cigars, and you gave him some books that you thought he would really enjoy, which by the smile he gave you, he approved. Laddie received new toys as well as books, which he was very excited about and began playing with immediately. Star gave Dwayne some poetry books as well as a new skateboard, and you handed Dwayne his gift. Kissing back when he leaned over to give you a quick kiss. He gently untied the bow and you took the moment to hand Laddie his other gift. When Dwayne lifted the lid of the box he went still, and for a moment you wondered what was going through his head, not wanting to pry and see for yourself. You watched him blink, slowly place down the lid and pick up the small baby onesie and pregnancy test, he stared at it for a long moment, the entire cave going quiet as you realized everyone was in shock.

"Is this…"

"Yeah"

"You're really?"

"Yeah" you smiled as your eyes met, his own slightly brimming with unshed tears as he looked at you.

"Really?" He breathed, almost as if he was afraid this was just some sick joke and you would tell him that you were lying.

"Really baby" you smiled, grabbing one of his hands and placing it on your still small stomach, the stomach that would soon have a baby bump.

"I'm pregnant" you breathed, and in an instant his lips were on yours, his arms wrapping around you as he poured every ounce of love that he had into the action. He had always wanted this, dreamed of it, but for so long thought it was impossible..and yet here you were, telling him that it was possible, telling him that it was happening…He was going to be a dad.

"I love you" he breathed against your lips, while you reached up to wipe his wet cheeks.

"I love you too baby" you smiled while leaning in to kiss him again.

"Dwayne look!" Laddie spoke excitedly, and Dwayne looked over, laughing and smiling at the boy who now sported a shirt that read

"Worlds best big brother"

"The title fits," he told the boy as he smiled even more.

"So we get to have a little niece or nephew running around?" Paul's voice cracked, and you looked over at him, noticing him wiping his own face, Marko looking away to try to hide his tears.

"Yeah, you'll have a little vamp running around" you nodded.

"We'll take good care of them, of the both of you" David spoke as he walked up to you, leaning down to kiss your head.

"I know you will, this is the best family a child could ask for" you spoke while looking at all of them, before leaning over and kissing Dwayne again.

"And you're gonna be the best father a child could ask for"

"You'll be the best mom" he smiled back.

Dwayne really deserves to be a father!!

Also here is the little baby onesie which can actually be found on Etsy!

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emblazons · 1 year

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what are your favorite byler headcanons?

—I never get asked this question, so thanks for being the first lmao. (I did write my “S5 hopes” before, but these are different I think?) Anyway. Hmmm.

While they both love Tolkien, Mike likes the Lord of the Rings trilogy books more, but Will enjoys the Hobbit best. Mike loves the depth of the lore and complexity of how Tolkien describes things in the original trilogy because they help him when he’s coming up with campaigns, but Will enjoys the straightforward (and a little sweeter) narrative of The Hobbit more—and also has a preference for it because the version he had as a kid was more image-heavy, and he’s an artist. :)

Speaking of Tolkien—Mike absolutely has a one-ring he keeps around his neck like Frodo. (It may even be what he chooses as an engagement ring way, way down the line, but Will is so outdone he decides to just buy it to wear it around his neck instead lol).

When it comes to getting work done, Mike is a think-out-loud type—as in, will talk to himself out loud and not even realize he’s doing it when alone, or with someone he’s comfortable getting into his head around. Will doesn’t say anything about it, because he thinks it’s hilarious—but Mike eventually learns about his own tendency when Will knows about a surprise he had planned before he can even do it…because he was thinking out loud. (He gets up in arms about how Will should have told him, but the more time passes, the funnier the tendency becomes to them).

Mike was hype as hell for the release of Jurassic Park in 1993. Will was also hype, but. Not nearly as excited about it as Mike was. When the Peter Jackson’s LOTR adaptation was announced, they were both over the moon (though Will was a bit scared. He is very picky about his movies, and adaptations even more so).

The two of them would settle in San Francisco, and would definitely be the ones who run a “teach DnD / campaign night” in conjunction with a comic book store in their neighborhood, in an attempt to keep the younger generations’ love for it alive—the same way as the bookstore owner who introduced them to the book. this is maybe based on an actual comicbook store with a dnd night in the SF Castro that I found a few years ago. The world may never know. They are thrilled in 2016 when a new Netflix show (😉) and Critical Role revives people’s love for it when they’re much, much older.

The first time the topic of “going to pride” comes up in the mid-90’s (long before it was the socially accepted event it is today), Will is mildly terrified—and so is Mike, but his “brave paladin” side absolutely talks himself up enough to get Will to join him solely out of a need to prove he can. They end up having a great time, and Mike, who has never really delved into queer history, ends up on a whole tangent of learning about it for an entire month afterward. Will finds it v endearing.

Mike sucks at poker because he cannot keep a single thing off his face. He is, however, really good at playing “the house” in card games, so that’s the role he takes on (comes from years of leading campaigns. He’s a bit of a showman that way).

Will cannot stand cold even after he’s disconnected from Vecna/the UD, and misses California—which is why they move back. When “global warming” talk starts becoming more common, his favorite dad joke to make is “if I think it’s getting hot, it must be,” but no one but the party & family know why it’s funny.

Earlier into their relationship, Will becomes a bit troubled by the fact that Mike is the only person he ever dated. It causes tension in their relationship for a little while, though Will eventually realizes he doesn't want to be with anyone else, so it doesn't matter. (Much later, Mike admits that he thought Will’s concerns were unfounded, considering the only person he ever dated outside of Will happened when he was 13 & probably shouldn’t have even been his girlfriend in the first place, given the fact that she was 3 seconds out of a lab…& he doesn’t even like women anyway).

Mike knows Will is healing more from “the events of the show” when Will starts making dark-humor jokes about being possessed and/or being lost in the upside down—though it takes him a lot to get used to it, given how scared he spent years being about losing Will. Eventually he gets on board and laughs—which Will appreciates, because it helps him to see Mike get less uncomfortable and feel safer about keeping Will safe after all that happened.

There are ten I could think of off top?? LMAO someone ask @magentamee what my other headcanons are I’m sure she’s heard them all by now 😂

Thanks so much for this ask!

#this was fun! thank you! genuinely haha #like. I do in fact have headcanons as an ‘analyst’ type? sometimes I forget haha #demonerds #byler #mike wheeler core #will byers core #the me tag #asks #st headcanons

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neverendingsourceofmystery · 29 days

Text

Sailing Close to the Wind|| One: Chasing Rainbows and Spinning Dreams

*takes a deep breath* *opens laptop* *blows ever so softly*

*coughs*

Hello everyone, I bet you didn't think I would ever come back to write more Downton stuff. Maybe an update from me isn't in your 2024 bingo card. Not gonna lie, I'm just as surprised as you are. I've been gone for far longer than I ever was here, but I guess, prodigal children always find their way home.

YES. This is an update. I know.

In light of the new movie announcement, I made a trip down memory lane, and was inspired by one of my old fics. Not that my writing from five years ago was ever inspiring, really. Anyway, it was supposed to be a one shot, and so I felt like I was in under no obligation to add more, but add more, I shall do.

*steadfastly ignores the 300 other cobert fanfics I am supposed to update*

To my surprise as well as yours, this one had an interesting and very polite demand for more, and honestly, if I wasn't so neck deep in law school, I would have given this a go earlier. Of course, I chose the most inopportune time -- when I'm in over my head, drowning, in bar review and prep -- to finish this piece. But whatever. It was therapeutic. I do suggest you read the prologue first, again -- here or here-- because I doubt any of you still remember this. This one's a long one that I just had to get out of my system, because studying about my country's system is the equivalent of pouring bleach all over my brain.

I would like to say as early as now however, that as I have already mentioned earlier, I am in the middle of bar prep, so the updates are probably going to be few and far in between, if at all, towards the middle of this year. Not that it's anything new where I'm concerned. But I shall endeavor to finish before the end of year or the end of the world, at least, whichever comes first.

.::.

One

Chasing rainbows and Spinning Dreams

"Can it possibly beThe future for me is you…Wait until I can tell you all my schemesChasing rainbows spinning dreamsTell me please your name” - Tell me your name, Jose Mari Chan

The silence in the room was so loud that one could hear a pin drop – as the old adage went, anyway, – and for one brief second, Cora found herself questioning if her boss was all right in the head. Maybe she had lost her mind after all the stress and was now clinically insane.

That, after all, was the only logical explanation to her even remotely suggesting this.

Cora looked away from her boss, wondering what she should do or say next, when her gaze met the eyes of the man on the other side of the room. Robert, that’s what Rosamund said, but Cora already knew that. There was nary a soul in this entire company who didn’t. He rarely made any appearance, but he’s never missed one company party and his name was always on everybody’s lips.

Cora could still – though she would never say it out loud or admit it – remember the first time she had seen the esteemed Mr. Robert Crawley. It had been during her first company Christmas party. She was new, a new hire fresh from her internship, and she’d been so young and so infatuated by the piercing blue eyes that barely looked her way even once in the party. He’d been caught up, talking to the big wigs, to his sister, and their other colleagues and didn’t have time for the little Miss Americana that was Cora. Not that Cora had minded very much, she was content with sipping her wine and admiring Mr. Crawley from afar.

He was handsome and his laugh was loud and boisterous, although hardly offensive. He spoke to Mr. Carson and his wife, Mrs. Elsie Hughes-Carson, who both worked with them at the company, like they were old friends – with respect and authority, but with clear affection. Cora could have only hoped, at that time, to be treated the same.

Now, here she was, sitting in the office of her boss, having been just told that she should marry the CEO of the company she’s working for so she can stay in London. She felt like she needed more ruminating about the “brilliant idea” of the boss in question, but she figured there wasn’t really even enough time to ruminate that. It was insane. That, in her mind, should count as a red flag right? That her boss was insane?

“Well?” Rosamund started to speak, though she looked just a little bit nervous, or anxious, or maybe it was self-realization – Cora could only hope for the last. “It’s such an unmusical way of putting things, brother.” She cleared her throat and nodded anyway. Clearly, any hopes of sanity were dashed at this point. “I was suggesting a convenient marriage with a deadline…if you’re amenable, of course.”

More here or here.

#guess who's back #yup me #no one cares i know but here we are #just writing robert and cora in five hundred different scenarios i guess #just another modern marriage of convenience #it's been ages i know #cobert #cora crawley #robert crawley #cora and robert crawley #downton abbey modern au #trutwritescobert #cobert fanfiction

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revjohno · 9 months

Text

RWRB: The Movie

Even before RWRB started climbing the bestseller lists back in 2019, the word was out: this one is going to be big! So Hollywood studios immediately began clamoring for movie rights, which Amazon Prime won in a sealed-bid auction. We fans then filled the internet with suggested cast lists—I was going to say, “none of which even came close to naming the actors eventually chosen, especially the principal leads.” But then a friend reminded me that he had actually suggested Rachel Hilson as Nora from the start, and (don’t read this next bit, Nick and Taylor), “I also had some great suggestions for Alex and Henry, which would have been perfect if they had gone for younger actors closer to the ages the novel specifies.” I sit corrected.

Meanwhile, we settled in to wait for an announcement that the movie was starting production, with a fervor unmatched by even the most rabid fans of the Left Behind series looking for the Second Coming. And we waited … and we waited … and we waited. First-time director Matthew Lopez, a Tony award-winning playwright who also wrote most of the script, seemed to be taking his sweet old time casting the film (though I suspect that once Nicholas Galitzine threw his hat into the ring to play Henry, no one else was even considered). And there matters sat. It didn’t take quite as long to start filming as Jesus has taken to return, but at times, it sure felt like it.

Then, with a rustling of angels’ wings and a blast from golden trumpets, the announcement came: the film had been completely cast and shooting was about to begin! Aside from the two leads, Matthew gave few particulars about who was playing whom, and almost no candid shots of scenes being filmed showed up on the web. There was a bit of flack when Rachel Hilson was announced as Nora, because of the book’s only Jewish character becoming Black. And when Queen Elizabeth II happened to die three weeks after principal shooting ended, people began speculating about the possibility of Matthew being psychic, since he had chosen to replace the novel’s Queen Mary with King James III. Obviously, it didn’t take Madame Cleo to predict that a 96-year-old lady might not survive much longer and that a male monarch would occupy the throne by the time of the movie’s premiere. But in the midst of all the mystery surrounding the film, we needed to talk about something.

Then shortly after shooting wrapped, Nicholas Galitzine was asked how faithful the movie was going to be to the novel. Somewhat nervously, I imagine (he later confessed in an interview with GQ that he never actually finished reading it, so no doubt he was a bit hazy about details), he cautioned us not to expect a carbon copy of the novel, but instead to treat the two as “entirely separate.” He then added, “I just hope that people will think of this as a fun movie.”

Sorry, Nick. RWRB is not a fun movie. Yes, like the novel, it is funny in spots (and Matthew’s script, which I felt actually improved on some of CMQ’s lines, is also remarkably faithful to the original in its general outline and inclusion of certain iconic scenes—far more than most movie adaptations). But the film is mainly concerned with serious issues, and aside from occasional lapses into preachiness, it treats these issues with sincerity, tenderness, and genuine feeling. And this is in no small part due to the performance of Nicholas Galitzine himself.

I find Nick Galitzine to be one of the most amazingly attractive human beings I have ever seen. It’s not just because of his handsome face; my admiration springs from his obvious innate decency, his endearingly goofy sense of humor, and his undeniable talent. There was no need for him to admit that he never finished the book—it’s not like we could have checked—but when asked, he told the truth, because he is an honest man. When the writer from GQ whispered that some other diners at the restaurant where they were meeting were getting irritated because Nick was being too noisy, he immediately got up on his crutches (he had chipped a bone in his ankle in an accident on the set of his latest project, Mary and George) and tottered over to apologize, an all-too rare example of consideration and good manners in this post-Trump world. When teased about his habit of calling everyone “mate” and hailing them as if they were long-lost BFF’s, Nick replied with a laugh, “Everyone is my friend—I’m just very excited to see them! I’m very enthusiastic!” I’m sure that truer words were never spoken.

Though Henry was easy to cast, the hunt for Alex took rather longer, because Matthew was searching for someone who demonstrated just the right chemistry with Nick. Then a thirty-year-old actor named Taylor Zakhar Perez put himself forward (too old, I would have thought, to play the 21-year-ol Alex; plus, at 6’2”, he was actually two inches taller than Nick, and CMQ had made a major plot point out of Henry’s superior height). But when Nick and Taylor first met, Matthew was called away for a few minutes, and he came back to find them talking nineteen to the dozen like they were old friends. At that moment, Matthew knew he had found his Alex. The possible objections were easily dealt with (Alex is no longer a college senior, but instead is now in law school, so he could easily be in his mid-twenties; and clever camera angles make Nick look taller. The script also creates a running joke out of Alex continually insisting that Henry cannot possibly be 6’2” as his fact sheet claims; and when they’re standing side-by side, Henry accuses Alex of wearing lifts. Alex’s look of confused dismay makes us actually wonder). They are perfectly matched, and the result is screen magic.

I found Taylor to be a complete revelation. His last movie had been a quickly-forgotten (luckily for him) bomb called One Up, in which Taylor’s lines were mostly restricted to comments like, “No, girls can’t join our team! Girls can never compete with men in the field of …” (wait for it) “competitive gaming!” Huh? We’re not talking about professional wrestling or weight-lifting—we’re talking about computer games. Moreover, countless studies have shown that women’s reflexes are quicker than men’s, their brains are proportionately larger, and that men’s only real superiority is upper body strength. I thought that such ignorant sexism as Taylor’s character in One Up conveys was a thing of the past, but in a world where women can lose the right to control their own bodies at the stroke of a pen, maybe not.

Though Taylor has never before played so major a part (that I’m aware of), he acquits himself admirably here. From the moment Alex tries to persuade Nora to ditch the reception and “go do touristy things,” the role of Alex is obviously in just the right hands. As it turns out, Nora might have done well to accept Alex’s suggestion, because he gets drunk at the reception and manages to create an international incident. And I must say, I very much enjoyed Henry and Alex’s interaction at the reception. Not only was I finally able to visualize the exact sequence of events leading to the disaster with the cake; I loved Henry’s fury at Alex’s dismissal of the proper use of titles (more about this below). It may make Henry look like a snobbish prig (which is certainly how Alex sees him), but Henry doesn’t care what Alex thinks. It also shows just how far Alex can goad him. For a royal, displaying such fury is even worse than making a scene, because royals are supposed to smother their feelings and appear cool, calm, and collected, no matter how trying the circumstances. Alex may be the first person who has ever been so lippy with Henry, and he really gets under Henry’s skin by doing so. (Which he will later do in a much more literal manner ….)

Which leads me to the BIG question we all wondered about: did Nick and Taylor’s offscreen friendship translate into SIZZLING sex onscreen? Well—no. And that’s fine by me. Any time I want to watch porn, there are any number of sites I could visit (or—ahem—so they tell me). Instead, these sex scenes give us poetry—aching, tender, romantic, and beautiful, allowing us the chance to peek into the depth of the characters’ intimacy, something made possible only by the actors’ consummate artistry. (Sorry—I couldn’t resist that one.)

Their first sexual interaction happens at the New Year’s Eve party, where they spend the entire evening talking and laughing together in a way that completely excludes everyone else. But then while everyone is sharing kisses at midnight (and several beautiful women make a beeline for Alex), Alex notices the (unkissed) Henry staring at him, heartbreak writ large on his face. Henry grabs a magnum of champagne and disappears, so Alex tracks him into the frozen Rose Garden. Critics have commented that this scene is detectably CGI, but come on, people—the movie was filmed during the summer, and it’s not like they were going to fly cast and crew to South America for a true wintry landscape. Besides, the actors’ talent made them look cold, which more than met the needs of the scene.

The ensuing kiss is straight out of CMQ, and I thought Alex’s reaction to Henry’s grab-and-smooch is particularly good. At first he seems startled (though not shocked), but then he plainly starts getting into it. It is Henry who breaks away, with a look of shock and terror as he realizes what he has just done. Without a single word, Nick is able to show us exactly what Henry must be thinking: Oh, my God! I let the mask slip—again! How does this bloke always make me do exactly what I was brought up not to do—expose myself by showing my real feelings? Christ! I need to get out of here!

Now it’s up to Taylor to show Alex’s reaction to the incident. In the movie, he seems not to feel much more than mild surprise, and a vague curiosity about whether Henry might be gay. But in the book, Alex goes into full-on gay crisis mode because of his body’s immediate reaction, and he develops even more of an all-consuming obsession with Henry. CMQ devotes twenty pages to this issue, one which all LGBT’s must eventually face (and twenty pages is actually getting off easy—in my case, accepting my bisexuality took decades). But since the movie’s Alex readily acknowledges his male lovers, enjoying Henry’s kiss isn’t an issue for him at all. The only complication he now faces is coming out to his parents, though I’m sure they figured out that their son was bisexual long ago.

Then comes the White House dinner and the Red Room scene, after which Alex orders Henry to “come to my room at midnight, where I am going to do very bad things to you.” My aforementioned friend (the one with the cast list) points out that Henry unbuttons Alex’s shirt and begins kissing down his chest and stomach, and Alex leans back with a look of gratified pleasure, but then at the end of the scene, Henry is still fully dressed. (Didn’t Alex reciprocate?) Henry then invites Alex to a polo match back in the UK, at which we see the guys kissing and Alex pushing Henry onto his back and reaching down to remove Henry’s belt, and … that’s as graphic as it gets. Matthew rightly protested the movie’s “R” rating, since aside from a couple of f-bombs and a brief shot of Taylor’s bare backside, that’s it. An “R” rating? I suspect that it’s studio nervousness about a potential homophobic reaction, and if the execs are that squeamish, why did they buy the movie rights in the first place?

The final sex scene is extremely well done. Henry begins by telling Alex that he wants to make love to him, to which Alex uncomfortably replies, “Make love? Who says that anymore?” Well, maybe Henry didn’t want to scare you off, Alex, by using the same words as he does in the book: “Please—I need you to fuck me.” But obviously, Alex intuits that this is exactly what Henry wants, because Alex says nervously, “Um—I’ve never—” to which Henry smiles and says, “Don’t worry—I went to an English boys’ boarding school,” which is a far more likely scenario for Henry to have been initiated into gay sex than a virginal 17-year-old Henry being seduced by one of his older brother’s friends.

The two lovers gaze at each other, and then they gently, almost reverently, begin to touch. It made me think of times at night when my wife and I are in bed, and I look at her asleep on the next pillow, and I touch her in exactly this way. My heart feels like it will burst, and wonder floods me as I realize that this woman, whom I have loved for all these years, actually loves me back. Can the human heart ever experience anything more wonderful than such a realization? The same knowledge shines out of the men’s eyes in this scene—I love him, and he loves me. Then the touching becomes more intense, and as the scene progresses, without a single word or sound, Nick conveys the exact moment when Taylor seemingly enters him, and precisely when the pain of initial penetration tips over into pleasure. I’ll say it again: this guy is amazing. Ever since I first started watching Nick’s movies, I have said that he can communicate more in ten seconds of silence than other actors can manage in a two-page monologue, and that is exactly what he does here. (And he still has no acting awards? I mean, really?)

Alex acknowledges to himself that making love is exactly what he has been doing with Henry all along, but by trying to share this realization he only succeeds in scaring Henry off. Henry begins deflecting every time Alex brings up their future together, a future which Henry believes to be impossible. Alex tells him, “I want to see you at a barbecue stand with sauce smeared all over your mouth, so I can lick it off,” to which Henry replies, “Don’t they have napkins in Texas?” Alex begins talking about spending time together after the election, when “we can be naked all day, and walk down the street holding hands” (presumably after they’ve put some clothes on). I loved watching Taylor’s face as he nervously suggests their eventually going public, and tries to make his declaration of love. And (as always), Nick perfectly conveys Henry’s troubled emotions, as Henry cuts Alex off by jumping into the lake. The fear on Henry’s face as he submerges himself in the water is a perfect visual metaphor for the doubts and terrors in which he is drowning.

And make no mistake—these fears are well-grounded, and very real. Henry was born into a world where nothing matters more than hierarchy and the strict rules which govern it—thus his insistence that Alex address him correctly as “Your Royal Highness” rather than “Your Majesty,” a title reserved the monarch alone. Priggish? Pretentious? Maybe—but take away the outward forms which maintain this artificial world, and who is Henry? And if Henry insists on being himself and steps outside the royal system, the punishment will be both immediate and severe.

Prince Harry and his wife were still newlyweds expecting their first baby while CMQ was writing the novel. No one could have predicted that the devil’s bargain between the Palace and the media (which always demands a villainous royal to skewer before they publish praise about a more important one) would lead to the vicious unpopularity Meghan Markle currently suffers. The written abuse heaped upon her (greatly assisted by social media) became so severe that she firmly believes it led directly to the loss of their second child. So they felt they had to flee the country if they were going to save their marriage and their family.

But as Prince Harry describes in his memoir, Spare, they soon discovered that for doing so, within twenty-four hours of their arrival in this hemisphere, his funds were cut off and they were officially evicted from both their royal residences. The very next morning, his security detail was taken away, leaving them homeless and unprotected in a world of crazy stalkers (from whom Meghan had been receiving death threats) and intrusive paparazzi. Harry also found that a private security firm would cost him roughly six million dollars a year, which would soon eat up every penny his mother had left him. Fortunately for Harry and Meghan, friends stepped into the breach to help them, but except for a very few, his family has turned on him with silent fury and stony faces ever since. Even Prince Andrew, convicted of molesting an underage female and who must register as a sex offender anywhere he goes for the rest of his life, got more generous treatment than this. All Harry did was put his love for his wife and children above royal duty, but for doing so he has been cast into the outer darkness. And for the sin of claiming his own right to fall in love with a brown-skinned American, Henry knows he would suffer the same fate.

But RWRB is a fairy tale, so of course everything works out fine in the end. The election which Alex’s forced outing has put into doubt ends with Ellen’s victory due to a strategy devised by Alex himself. Despite intense pressure from the royal family, Henry insists on staying with Alex and acknowledging their true feelings for each other, and the entire world rallies around them. It is a triumph for love and tolerance over “the stifling suffocation of heteronormative conformity.” (I wish I didn’t have to put that line into quotation marks, but no one who knows me would ever believe that I had come up with such an erudite and well-turned phrase on my own.)

I enjoyed the film immensely. I thought the actors were top-drawer, as was Matthew’s adaptation and direction. So what didn’t I like? The watering-down of the certain characters for one, but above all, the elimination of others, especially Alex’s sister June. Please bear with me, though, because I think I have a glimmer of understanding as to why Matthew might have done this. And with his love for the book, I am sure that he did not arrive at his decisions lightly.

Let’s start with the character of Nora. In the book, she is someone “with a computer for a brain” who adopts the online persona of “a depressed lesbian poet who meets a hot yoga instructor in a speakeasy and is now marketing her own line of hand thrown fruit bowls.” But in the film, she becomes little more than a walk-on, and her brilliant, prickly presence gets watered down into a warm and loving sister surrogate (necessary since June got axed—why include June when Nora can function for both?). Now that Nora is Alex’s supportive older sister, obviously there’s no hint of their past relationship from the book, in which “they just had to fuck to get it out of the way.” And without June, there’s also no need for a lesbian subplot. In the process, almost all of Nora’s spunkiness gets lost, and once the reception scene and the discussion with Alex about Henry’s New Year’s Eve kiss are over, she has nothing much to do but smile from the sidelines as she pairs up with Pez (who is also reduced to almost nothing—Henry’s incredibly wealthy, highly amusing and sexually ambiguous best friend barely has two lines). By reducing these characters, the movie loses the interest they both bring (Nora in particular).

This sort of character reduction is not limited to Nora and Pez. Many remaining characters get sanitized as well, if not entirely deleted. The abrasive Zahra who threatens to “staple Alex’s dick to his leg if it’ll keep it in his pants” morphs into a wisecracker who serves the essential function of calling Alex to account and dealing out the discipline he so obviously requires, but who always remains a friend. She thereby becomes much more likable—I loved the original character, but I used to wonder how someone so rude could have made it so far in politics—but in the process she becomes much more bland, and we lose most of her salty, prickly humor.

The salty-tongued Ellen, who sometimes uses her children as props and who ruthlessly cuts Alex loose when he threatens to become a campaign liability, gentles down into mere exasperated bossiness when dealing with her only child, and in the process becomes a fairly minor character. She shows none of the grit and determination that would have led her from her mother’s bar all the way to the White House. She is also still married to Alex’s father, Oscar Diaz, who has morphed from an important California senator into an undistinguished Congressman whose speeches everyone (but Alex) ignores. With Oscar and Ellen still together, the character of June loses one more necessary function: supporting and protecting Alex in the wake of their parents’ divorce, as well as her habit of challenging him for the behavior she believes may be fallout from Alex’s still-conflicting loyalties to his warring parents. But in the movie, the only hint of conflict between Mom and Dad is Oscar asking his son not to tell his mother that Oscar has been smoking out on the Truman Balcony.

And then there’s Rafael Luna. His abrasive, mentoring character gets deleted entirely, and his seeming betrayal (which causes Alex such agonized soul-searching) gets replaced with actual betrayal by a shifty investigative reporter. Luna goes undercover to expose a sexual predator and to prevent such a person from entering the White House (if only there had been this sort of double agent on the Trump campaign!). But in the movie, the guys get outed because a reporter named Miguel, a former lover of Alex’s, becomes jealous when Henry and Alex go off together at the DNC. I loved the cameo by Joy Reid (as I also loved the cameos by Rachel Maddow—and Matthew, while you were at it, why didn’t you also get Steve Kornacki?) as she pushes the reporter to explain why he had done such an underhanded thing. With all the hypocrisy and smug sanctimoniousness typical of his breed, the reporter gives a BS answer about “the public’s right, and need, to know such things about the people they elect,” which Joy immediately challenges by pointing out that (a) Alex has not been elected to anything, and (b) he has a perfect right to keep his private life just that—private.

So why did Matthew make all these changes? I think it may be for one simple reason: anyone adapting a novel for the screen must first identify the elements that made the original so popular, and, since we’re talking Hollywood, those which are also the most marketable. Every word must somehow advance the main storyline, and all subplots that distract from it must be ruthlessly eliminated. Multiple characters get condensed into one who can represent them all. There has to be a conflict engineered by the villain of the piece, but the elaborate undercover plot organized by the Richards campaign would have taken too much screen time. So it gets replaced by one which might be summarized in ten words: “Hell hath no fury like that of a lover scorned.” Of course, in a romcom, the screenplay must finally lead to a happy ending, and here we get two: in England, the lovers wave to an adoring public from the Buckingham Palace balcony; and in the US, Ellen finds out that she’s been reelected even as she and Zahra are composing her concession speech. Then Ellen, Oscar, Alex, and Henry wave at adoring supporters cheering Ellen’s victory.

RWRB the novel is only marginally a romcom; it is really a coming-of-age story, its message one of self-acceptance through self-awareness. This is what makes it so wildly popular among the YA audience at whom it is aimed, since adolescence is the time when the struggle to know and acknowledge who we really are is the most difficult. Just before the election, Nora tells Alex that he has no reason to be afraid of people’s reactions to his bisexuality; all he has to do to cement his popularity is to “Be Alex.” It’s good advice for all of us: difficult though it often is, our only real path to a full and productive life is by knowing and accepting ourselves as we are. And as a wise woman once told me, being yourself is a lot easier than being anyone else.

But self-acceptance is a particularly thorny issue for LGBT’s, even if our mothers are liberal Democrats like Ellen Claremont and our fathers are “patron saints of unisex bathrooms” like Oscar Diaz. As members of the culture into which we are born, from our very first awareness we know that there is something different about us. Something which our society teaches us is loathsome and contemptible, and which will inevitably lead to our eternal damnation. This is a pretty tough concept to handle, and we’re forced to confront it even before we enter preschool. But it’s not an issue the movie chooses to address: instead, it focuses on almost exclusively the developing romance between the two principals. This shoves the film’s entire weight onto Nick and Taylor, but fortunately these young men both have broad shoulders, and their talent is more than able to carry it. That talent also keeps us rooting for their characters’ happy ending, and if some characters and most of the subplots get cut, well, you have to break a few eggs to make an omelet.

So. Do I love the book RWRB? Of course I do—and how I wish it had been around when I was struggling with my issues as a young bisexual man in the 1970’s, since it would have saved me years of shame and pointless suffering. I would then have been much more ready for my own happy ending when Bobbie eventually entered my life. And do I love the movie RWRB? I totally do—I’m always up for a romance, and that is what Matthew, Nick, and Taylor have given us. In some ways, I actually prefer the movie (even though I know that saying this may lead to the RWRB police showing up at my doorstep to confiscate my “History, Huh?” T-shirt). You see, there’s one big problem with publishing a book with such a current, up-to-the-minute feel and format: it quickly becomes about as glossy and stylish as last year’s slang, and so when the Commemorative Edition came out in 2022, I found it curiously dated (the best part, for me, was its illustrations by Venessa Kelley). I think the movie will age a lot better, because with only minor alterations, it could be adjusted to almost any era—it’s not tied nearly so closely as is the book to the Gen Z / Millennial generation.

But to love both book and film, one has to accept the essential correctness of Nick’s original analysis: they are two separate entities, or, if you will, two sides of the same coin. One side is self-awareness and self-acceptance eventually leading to true love, and the other is true love which can only be enjoyed by reconciling societal expectations with personal integrity. So I find the book and the movie equally wonderful, just different. And I treasure them both.

#rwrb zine #vkelleyart gallery #nicholas galitzine #taylor zakhar perez #rwrb cast #red white and royal blue movie #matthew lopez #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor

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tigereyes45 · 4 months

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AOS mckirk + 43? ❤️

Prompt 43 was, "Why aren't you eating?" You can find the list of prompts here. I originally wrote a version of this request where it's Jim not eating, but then my mind kept saying, but what if it was McCoy. So I did that. XD There's going to be a second part to this where Jim is the one not eating. You can also read the story on AO3 here:

Summary:

It's easy to push aside eating in favor of finishing a task at hand. Everyone needs reminders sometimes.

Start:

When Jim Kirk steps into McCoy's private office space, there's a swagger that's ever-present in his moves. A self-confidence that's more act than reality. Leonard has enough kindness to keep from announcing the fact. The doctor lowers a PADD that had been claiming his ever-dissipating attention, for the last hour and a half.

"Nurse Chapel tells me you haven't been eating." The doctor drops his PADD onto his desk as if he couldn't be bothered to read it for another moment.

“She told you.” McCoy corrects before rolling his eyes. It’s official. No more late-night lab tests with Spock. The vulcan’s beginning to rub off on him. Leonard shakes his head. His fingers impatiently tap against the PADD’s screen. "Christine needs to learn how to keep information to herself." Jim’s foot began to subconsciously tap along with Bones’ fingers. McCoy huffs and crosses his arms. "It's unprofessional."

"She worries about you Bones." Kirk leans against the doctor's desk. A knowing smile on his face. "I worry about you."

That’s obvious. Despite his role as captain, Jim has never been able to hide his favoritism. He’s kept those who he first encountered on the ship closer than most others. Their history throughout the academy resulted in McCoy being allowed closer than most. Even more so than the bridge crew.

"I don't need you worrying over me." Bones insists. How many times have they had a conversation like this? With another huff, he stands up. "And leave Christine alone. She's a rather skilled nurse. I'd hate to lose her. Again." That last word came out with a little more bite than he intended.

"I'll keep that in mind."

There's so much work to do. Wounds to heal, chests waiting to be sewn up, check-ups, vaccinations, physical therapies to watch, paperwork to sign off on, newly released research to catch up on, and then review. All before they head off to start this new five-year mission. The work never ends, and damn it! He's a doctor. If anyone knows how far and long their body can go, it's him. No puffed-up captain is going to tell him otherwise.

"Bones," Jim's soft call is followed by a hand clapping around McCoy's shoulder. Leonard shrugs the handoff. Concern fills Jim's face. His usual smirk now hangs awkwardly open. No doubt the gears are turning in that quick mind. Nimble as a fox. That's what his father would’ve called Jim.

If they ever had the chance to meet.

"I just want to make sure you keep some meat on you." Jim jokes, rounding on McCoy. He folds his arms over his chest and offers a light smile. Even that small smile would be enough to brighten up most of McCoy's days. Not now though. There’s no time. He’s due for a surgery in about eight hours. Eight hours that’ll pass in a blink of an eye if he’s not careful.

"I've got work to do Jim." Leonard tries to step around.

Jim swiftly sways and weaves to keep in his way. "Come on Bones. Join me for lunch."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can.” Jim’s the one rolling his eyes now. “Take a break.” He throws a hand out, leaning in the doorway. Thoroughly blocking McCoy’s only way out. “Captain's orders." He adds with a wink.

"I said I can't." It’s not that he doesn’t want to, but there’s too much on the scales. He has to keep going just to keep them balanced. Otherwise, Jim will be short on crew, and missing talented people. Individuals that may keep him alive. Out there in the vast emptiness, they’ll only have each other to count on. Starfleet won’t be able to help if they get into trouble. They can’t have come so far for McCoy to make a mistake. Not now. Not again.

McCoy furrows his brows and fights back the memories threatening to take his attention. Deep down Leonard knows why he’s doing this. Why it has become so easy to push his own needs aside and focus on all the lives on board.

Part of it is his training. Doctors of all kinds learn early on in school how to push down the biological signs of hunger and stress. When you have lab results due in the morning, but the tests haven’t run their full course yet, and midterms are around the corner, while professor after professor is encouraging you to start thinking about your thesis work now before you even manage to get out of undergrad, well stress becomes seconded nature. Exhaustion, hunger pangs, and increased anxiety that verges on panic attacks, all get swept under the rug, and suppressed until a body can’t go on anymore. By the time they get to medical school most students have bodies that are simultaneously, in a horrendous state, yet conditioned to work through it. They keep to themselves. Reminding himself with post-its, handwritten notes scrawled in the empty spaces of his books, and phone alerts to drink water, eat food, and take five minutes to close his eyes before pushing on. Always aware of the fact of the hypocrisy between the instructions he gives to patients on how to care for themselves as he works himself to the bone.

Leonard’s trained not to share his own problems. To ignore his own needs, but even that can only go so far. Deep down there’s more to it. A fear deeper than the grief that washes over him as he loses a patient. Something that motivates him more than any fear he experienced when in school or out in space.

He can’t lose Jim again.

"And I said you can." Jim opens up his arms, talking with his hands. "You're not much help to anyone if you're all skin and bones."

The timing had been more. Leonard knows that’s not what James was saying. He wasn’t invalidating the fear, but rationality wasn’t home today. "Damn it Jim, I said no!" McCoy’s hand goes flying past Jim, towards the door’s control. Fingers catch on the bottom of Jim’s long sleeve as his palm smacks the buttons.

It’s painful how ingrained that loss had become in his life. Terrifying how the mere thought of it sends his mind spiraling as if lost to a deep, powerful vortex that sucks everything else away.

"Hey!" Jim pushes a hand against Leonard's chest. "Watch the hand, McCoy."

McCoy pulls his hand back. His fingers were shaking. With a deep sigh Leonard folds them in. Doing his best to calm his racing nerves the doctor closes his eyes. Doing his best stern, yet calm voice Leonard says, "Just get out of here Jim. I've got lives to save, and people who need fixing." People you need.

Leonard opens his eyes slowly. The look on Jim’s face was one of determination. Better than heartbroken. McCoy can only imagine his own expression. He needs to get back to work.

“Nurse Chapel.” Christine appears right behind him, as if waiting for Jim’s call. “When is Doctor McCoy’s next scheduled appointment?”

“In eight hours sir. It’s Lieutenant Alfonse’s surgery.” An engineer skilled enough, that Scotty himself has been asking after his health since they first discovered the kidney issue.

“Does he have any pressing matters in the meantime?”

Christine doesn’t even bother pretending to look at the datapadd in her hands. “No sir?” Her eyes stare McCoy down.

“He’s officially off shift. Call me directly if there’s an emergency.” Leonard fights back the urge to swear. Jim really isn’t going to let this drop.

“You sir?” Chapel asks, trying to get a look at the captain’s face. The man keeps his back to her, and his eyes trained on McCoy.

Jim crosses his arms. “He’ll be eating with me in my room.” A new smirk adorns his face. “Won’t you Bones?”

Sensing no room for argument McCoy agrees through gritted teeth, “I guess I will, sir.” He added that last word to make it clear that while he’s bending he’ll remember this. If Jim’s bothered by that idea, he doesn’t act like it.

Jim steps aside, finally letting Leonard pass by. Chapel steps back out of the way, heading over to the bio beds, with a polite nod of her head. Leonard steals a glance at her datapadd. It wasn’t even turned on. They planned this! Jim comes bounding after. He lightly pats Leonard’s arm, as he falls into step beside the doctor. “No be angry Bones. You’re gonna like this.”

“I like working.”

Jim playfully smacks McCoy’s chest. “No you don’t. You like fried potatoes, dumplings, and steak bites.”

That stops Leonard dead in his tracks. “What?” He turns to face Jim whose got the biggest shit-eating grin. Sickbay’s front door slides shut behind them.

Jim grabs both of McCoy’s arms, and fix the end of his short sleeves. “Like I said,” Jim leans closer practically bubbling with energy. “You’ll like it. I even used basil.”

This time Leonard couldn’t keep his face from forming a wide, disblieving smile. “You what?” Did that mean Jim actually cooked? Yeah they were still on Earth but it must’ve been out of his way to go and grab actual food from a market. McCoy’s stomach growls, voicing it’s lack of care over where the food came from, or how it was prepared. Either way he has to try it now. As if it wasn’t already being required by Jim.

A home cook meal. Literally. It shouldn’t be such an odd thought considering that the Enterprise was going to be his only home for the next five years. Leonard had expected to only eat synthesized food for it all. An actual cooked meal, made with fresh ingredients, his mouth starts to water.

The captain was already a few steps down the hall, as McCoy’s feet finally lift and start to follow. With each step bringing him a little bit closer to the promise of food, his body grows lighter. There’s still a lot of work to do. Guilt threatens to rear it’s ugly head back up, but Jim’s smile banishes the thoughts to the deepest recesses of Bones’ mind.

Sometimes it’s easy to forget to actually enjoy his time with the people he wants to save.

Another lesson trained into the practice, unfortunately.

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maggiedanikka · 2 years

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Superstar (Preview)

Pairing: Rooster x f!reader

Author's Note: Hey besties! I am so so so sorry for the long hiatus, the fall semester started and I am taking 18 credits this semester along with 4 jobs and studying for the LSATs so I've been in the trenches to say the least. I have been sporadically working on this fic, and I originally did not want to release it until it was fully completed but today is my birthday so I was feeling magnanimous and have decided to release this preview of my one shot that is currently in the works. Please hold on a little bit more. If you all like this preview I will release the full version. Also keep in mind I started writing this before TGM was released on streaming so I wrote parts of it based on memory (because the beginning is set during the actual movie).

Hopefully Part 10 of Let Me Go will be out soon!

Okay on to the story.

Bradley Bradshaw’s voice was an enigma to you. How could anyone's voice be so hoarse and yet so strong?

As an air traffic controller for the Navy, you’ve heard every type of voice imaginable. The gruff demanding ones from the Air Boss, the shrill screams of pilots having to eject due to a bird strike, the quiet dulcet tones of a shy WSO, and everything in between.

The first time you heard his voice through the comms, you weren’t exactly starstruck per se, just a bit thrown off.

“This is Dagger 2, asking for clearance for take off.”

It’s not like you didn’t know who the pilots flying this mission were. Everyone in the goddamn Navy knew who they were, they were the best of the best.

You even saw their pictures. Thought some of them were cute (especially the one rocking the Miami Vice Stache). But hearing their voices was different from reading their files.

Though most of the details of the mission were classified, you had a basic idea and knew that there was a good chance that someone wasn’t coming home.

“This is Dagger 2, asking for clearance for take off”

The voice repeated. You snapped out of your thoughts, the voice was smooth as honey and it had just a hint of fear but yet so heavily determined. Your heart really went out to the poor pilot.

“Dagger 2, you’re clear for take off.” You said, trying to convey as much sympathy as you could in those words.

The actual mission itself didn’t last longer than 3 minutes. Working for the navy, you should’ve been used to the high stakes situations that often go hand in hand with these kinds of assignments. But you couldn’t help but sit on the edge of your seat during the duration of the mission.

There were a few initial hiccups, you felt like you were watching a movie as you listened to the daggers communicate with one another. Their nervousness (and to be honest your own) upon seeing the SAMs and your both concern and irritation at Lieutenant Bradshaw’s cautiousness.

Yes, his by the book and precise flying is part of the reason why he was considered one of the best, but if he didn’t throw that shit out of the window and speed up he will end up getting himself killed. And even though you didn’t necessarily know him, this possibility filled your body with so much dread.

You felt relieved (well only slightly, they hadn’t made it out of the woods just yet) when Rooster finally got out of his own head and sped up. The two miracles were successfully pulled off and the 4 jets had made it past Coffin Corner. Now it was a dogfight all the way home.

You commended just how level headed and pragmatic the pilots were as they evaded the SAMs and attacks that were thrusted upon them. You knew if you were in the same situation you would’ve panicked and blown up by now. Your admiration was interrupted by the mayday call of Captain Mitchell.

A heavy tension set in the control room, everyone was shocked at what just transpired. It was interrupted by the voices of the other daggers. Notably Lieutenant Bradshaw and Lieutenant Trace.

Phoenix had announced that she and Lieutenant Floyd were heading back to home base, along with Payback and Fanboy. However, you were yet to hear confirmation from Rooster, with the last thing he said went along the lines of going after Maverick.

You held your breath as you heard Admiral Simpson demanded his return. The control room was met with silence, and you knew exactly what he was going to do.

It was less than 5 minutes when it was confirmed that Lieutenant Bradshaw’s plane had been shot down after attacking an enemy plane. His beacon went dark.

Lieutenant Seresin requested clearance for take off but was rebuffed by the Air Boss. You had to take everything in you to not shed a tear.

A thick silence fell over the entire ship. The mission was technically a success but you wouldn’t be able to tell based on the solemn look on everyone’s face.

Even after the remaining daggers returned on the ship, no one wanted to leave the control room. The entire ship was at a standstill.

That was until a beacon marked “Rooster” started beeping on the screen.

No it couldn’t be.

“Sir, Rooster has gone supersonic.” You told Admiral Simpson with a gulp, trying to contain your hope.

“An F-14 tomcat has been spotted sir.” Another ATC announced.

“Maverick.” You heard someone say, not sure who but you did not care at that point. What’s important is that they were alive!

But it was not time to celebrate just yet. Two bogies were spotted alongside the F-14 Tomcat. And everyone knew this meant a dogfight was about to commence.

The situation looked more and more grim. An ancient F-14 against Fifth Gens? It was unlikely for the two pilots to make it out unscathed yet alone alive.

But by some grace of God (or possibly Maverick’s unbeatable skill, probably both) they managed to take down two bogies.

Rooster managed to turn on the plane’s radio to contact the ship. You felt relief which was instantly thwarted by the news that there was still one Fifth Gen, directly in front of the plane.

You knew they needed help. You looked at Admiral Simpson desperately, hoping that he would allow the Reserve Dagger to go assist. But Cyclone seemed frozen and you knew you had to take matters into your own hands.

“Dagger Reserve, are you ready for liftoff?” You spoke into the mic, the other people in the control room looked at you in shock.

“Finally!” The elated voice of Hangman came through the comms.

Admiral Simpson shot you a hard glare, if only looks could kill, you’d probably be as screwed as Maverick and Rooster. But you knew you had to do something.

“Yes this is Dagger Reserve asking clearance for takeoff.”

“Dagger Reserve, you are clear for takeoff. Bring our boys home.” You said with a small smile, if you get fired and discharged, possibly thrown into the ocean it’ll be worth it knowing what you did to save the aviators.

Hangman shot down the Fifth Gen with ease, earning him his second confirmed air combat kill. You knew that the other pilots would never hear the end of it. But all you cared about is he saved HIM.

Rooster’s laugh and banter with Hangman might’ve been the most wonderful sound you’ve ever heard.

Seeing him on the tarmac reunited with the rest of his team had to be one of the highlights of your career with the Navy, if this was the last moment you had in the branch then you were perfectly content.

“What you did was reckless insubordination! If there was another fifth Gen out there, we would’ve lost 3 of our best pilots and 2 planes worth millions of dollars!” Admiral Simpson had chastised you.

“I have half a mind to dishonorably discharge you!” You 're ready to accept your punishment with grace. You were however surprised at his next words

“But your actions saved 2 of our men.” He added with a gulp.

“You are clear from punishment, but DO NOT make this a habit!”

“Yes sir.” You told him with a steady voice.

“Thank you sir.”

“You are dismissed, go join the rest of the fleet.” He told you.

You ran down to celebrate the returning pilots, but so was everyone else. You could only see a glimpse of Captain Mitchell and Lieutenant Bradshaw past the dozens of bodies approaching to greet them.

But even from where you were standing you could see the beaming smile and bright eyes of the mustached pilot. And from that exact moment you knew you were a goner.

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#rooster x reader #rooster #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster angst #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster imagine

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revjohnobryon · 9 months

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RWRB: The Movie

#rwrb zine #vkelleyart gallery #casey mcquiston #nicholas galitzine #alex claremont diaz #taylor zakhar perez #rwrb cast #red white and royal blue movie #matthew lopez

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honoka-marierose · 22 days

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Among the many projects announced for the DCU when James Gunn and Peter Safran took over was Lanterns, a TV series focusing on two of the Green Lantern characters. Prior to the Gunn and Safran ear of DC though, another Green Lantern show was in the works and even had actors attached with Finn Wittrock (American Horror Story) set to play Guy Gardner and Jeremy Irvine (War Horse) playing original Green Lantern Alan Scott. That Green Lantern show however is not the Green Lantern show being made for the DCU, as James Gunn confirmed in a recent post on Threads for one concerned DC fan.

When asked by a user what happened to the Green Lantern series being previously developed with Wittrock in the cast, Gunn revealed that the series not moving forward had more to do with just the business of Hollywood rather than any kind of nefarious feelings towards creatives involved with that project.

"I didn't think it was in the DCEU, but it was before my time," Gunn wrote. "That said, I think Finn's a takented (sic) guy and he'll be okay! Writers, directors, actors have projects fall through every day. We've all had it happen many times. It's not being 'done dirty', it's a part of the job."

When asked what the progress is of the Lanterns show that he is developing for the DCU, Gunn replied with a series of man dancing emojis, three to be exact. What that means is....well it could frankly be anything. Boogying along? They've got three Lanterns? Take a guess, whatever you came up with is as valid as what I've got.

Though the previous version of Lanterns that was in development was going to focus on fan-favorite characters Guy Gardner and Alan Scott, the new version will focus on the two most popular versions of Green Lantern, Hal Jordan and John Stewart.

"The next thing is a big Premiere HBO television series series called Lanterns this is a story of a couple of Green Lanterns Jon Stewart and Hal Jordan," Gunn said when the series was announced. "We have a few other lanterns peppered in there but this is really a terrestrial based TV show which is almost like True Detective with a couple of Green Lanterns who are space cops watching over Precinct Earth in it they discover a terrifying mystery that ties into our largest story of the DCU.

One of those other Lanterns that will be "peppered in there" will no doubt by Nathan Fillion's Guy Gardner, who will make his debut in 2025's Superman movie.

Lanterns wasn't the only television shows announced for the DCU last year, with others confirmed including Creature Commandos, an animated series that will be the first official project in the DCU; Waller, a sequel to both The Suicide Squad and Peacemaker; Paradise Lost, a Game of Thrones-esque series set on Themyscira; and Booster Gold, a comedy featuring the DC hero. The feature films confirmed for the DCU's Chapter 1 include Superman: Legacy, The Authority, The Brave and the Bold (featuring the DCU's version of Batman, separate from Robert Pattinson's The Batman), Supergirl: Woman of Tomorrow, and Swamp Thing.

#dc #dc comics #dc studios #james gunn #green lantern #dc green lantern #dc universe #dcu #detective comics #finn whitrock

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musekicker · 4 months

Text

First in the Samuel related drabbles. Aka, Pentious lays a egg.

(( a note, yes, I'm aware that in canons I believe sinners can't have kids. Sadly canon greatly underestimates me when I have kid oc ideas in mind.

Normally Pentious would be in the kitchen area by now. He was not one to sleep in long. The only ones who woke up before him were Charlie and Vaggie. Alastor was probably awake early on too but he seemed to have a sense of when everyone else was in the kitchen and would only stroll in around that time.

So Pentious coming into the kitchen close to noon was a highly odd behavior for him. The look on his face was anxious, his hands wringing as his slid into the room.

"I might have a problem." Pentious announced to everyone in the kitchen.

"You said it not us." Angel said.

Pentious didn't even react to Angel's insult. Not even a annoyed hiss. Yet another sign that something was up.

"What's going on Pentious?" Charlie asked.

No one else besides Charlie really looked too concerned yet. Though Angel did look surprised that Pentious had not reacted to him. Pentious stopped his hand wringing and looked to Charlie. Words were not quite on his tongue and it took him a bit to find the right words. Though they were not much.

"I think it best to show you all." Pentious said.

No one knew what to expect from this. More so when Pentious was leading everyone back to his room. Everyone understood what the problem was the moment they saw it.

It was a egg. Well, a bunch of eggs as there were Pentious minions in his bed. But there was also a egg that looked very diffrent. Somewhat smaller then the egg boys and in a diffrent shape. More like a long oval. The shell also looked rubbery.

"Is that a new minion?" Husk asked.

"No." Pentious said "It's not liked when i laid my minions."

"Wait, you laid your minions?" Vaggie asked.

Pentious crossed his arms at the tone in Vaggie's voice at that question.

"You think good help is that easy to find?" Pentious asked.

"You consider then good help?" Husk asked.

Pentious glanced back as the egg minions. One of them waved to him before he looked back to Husk.

"Well.. no. But still it's help." Pentious said.

The egg boys looked a bit down at that sentence. Their sadness was not noted.

"So this is really different from your egg minions?" Charlie asked.

Pentious nodded.

"This is very different. I can sense it." Pentious said. "There is something alive in there."

"Okay so in that case the next question is the most obvious one... who knocked you up?" Angel asked.

"I have no idea!" Pentious cried. "That is another reason why this is so surprising!"

Charlie of course went into problem solving mode. The problem, trying to figure out what was the cause of Pentious laying a egg.

"Okay, think back. Have you done anything different recently that could had lead to this?" Charlie asked.

"If you are asking if I had err.. sexual intercourse at some point lately I did not." Pentious said.

"How about that night where you, me, and Husk hung out for a bit?" Angel asked. "You know about a couple of weeks ago?"

Charlie stopped at that and looked to Angel.

"You all said you were going to the movies!" Charlie cried.

"We did." Husk said. "And after the movie we did stop in to a bar. Nothing too wild. At least not for me and Angel apparently."

"Yeah, who did you do while we lost sight of you?" Angel asked Pentious.

Pentious gasped, his hood flaring out as reaction to the to him, insult.

"No one!" he cried.

"You sure?" Husk asked. "You were pretty smashed when we left that night. Even before we lost sight of you."

"How did you two lose sight of Pentious exactly?" Vaggie asked.

Husk paused at that question, glancing at Angel from the corner of his eye.

"We were not inside the club for some time." Husk admitted.

"Did you-" Vaggie started to ask.

"We were having a conversation outside okay? Not what you are thinking. Get your mind out of the gutter." Angel said.

The way that Angel had snapped made Vaggie pause. Angel was not one to try to hide any sort of anything to do with sex. So yes, she believed him when he said that no sex had happened between him and Husk. It was odd that he seemed so snippy about the whole thing though.

Not the thing to focus on though. There was a actual egg with something living growing inside in the hotel now. Before Charlie could say anything Vaggie spoke up.

"Look, before you get attached to-" Vaggie said.

"I'm already attached." Pentious said aloud.

Vaggie sighed.

"I'm not sure-" Vaggie tried again.

The expression on Pentious's face as he curled around the egg and hissed said it all. He was keeping this egg. And that there would be no talk about getting rid of it.

"Don't you worry Pentious. We're going to make sure this egg stays safe and warm." Charlie said.

Vaggie still did not look so sure about that. But she no longer spoke up on the subject.

Speaking of silence, Alastor had been very quiet all during this conversation. Births in hell were not a common thing for sinners. So low one would think was not possible at all. Alastor was not sure what this all meant just yet. But this could be interesting.

#hazbin hotel

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 1 year

Text

COSMIC - S2:E6; Chapter Six, The Spy - [Pt. 2]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

will's connection to a shadowy evil grows stronger, but no one's quite sure how to stop it. elsewhere, steve and dustin forge an unlikely bond.

WARNINGS: descriptions of v*miting, but it should only the very first paragraph here, and the flashback paragraphs designated under "DEC 1983" I believe.. Just in case you feel it best you need to skip!

||𝟑𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐕||

Dr. Owens peaks his head in the door uneasily, where, inside, Hopper sits on the edge of the bench hunched over a bucket. He is still in the gown the lab had provided, his new pair of scrubs still sitting folded and untouched to his left on the bench. Another retch is torn from his strained throat as his insides empty into the bucket. Owens fights a grimace and clears his throat announcing his presence.

"All right, cowboy, good news." He steps inside, his assistant behind him. "We're giving you the green light. How're you feeling?"

Hopper, still shaky and weak from his night in the tunnels and the full hose down from the medical team, turns to give the doctor an exaggerated grin.

"Never better." Says Hopper through gritted teeth.

"All right, well, we got a present for ya," Owens says, letting the sarcasm roll off his back.

The assistant steps forward, a folded hazmat suit in his hands. Hopper attempts no such efforts to hide his grimace at the sight.

"The hell is that?"

"Uh, something you should see."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The heart monitor beats steadily as Will sleeps, color has begun to return to his cheeks but it is scarce. Mike is tucked under a blanket, fast asleep in the bedside chair while Joyce and Bob speak in hushed whispers in the corner. Joyce had, for the most part, filled in Bob on the events of the past year.

"They made me sign, like, a thousand documents. I mean... we all had to. We had to! I mean, I lost track at a certain point. They're gonna make you do the same. I'm sure."

Bob nods, his eyes returning to Joyce after lingering worriedly on Will.

"Yeah. Well, hey, whatever."

There's a brief pause as Joyce gauges his reaction suspiciously, surprised by his shockingly relaxed demeanor. Finally, Bob speaks.

"What kind of documents?"

"Uh, confidentiality, and there were these official forms saying, like, nothing ever happened, which is why..."

Bob steps towards Will's bed, clarity written on his face.

"...Will got lost in the woods."

"Yeah."

Bob shakes his head, the wave of shock finally crashing over him in full.

"Man, I always thought stuff like this happened in movies and comic books. Certainly not in Hawkins," He returns to Joyce's side. "and certainly not to someone like you."

Joyce nudges Bob. "Or you."

"Yeah," he chuckles, quirking a brow. "Bob Newby, superhero."

The pair share a smile, but it does not last long before it fizzles out in the unresolved tension in the air. Joyce notes the shivers shaking Bob's body and throws him a concerned glance.

"You cold?"

"Just a little jitters, I guess." He says, drawing the blanket around his shoulders closer. "Hey, don't you start worrying about me. Okay? I'm fine. I'm fine."

Joyce nods in understanding, though she can't quite seem to shake the worry.

"It's not like you didn't warn me. 'This is not a normal family.' Isn't that what you said?"

The ends of her lips curl into a weak smile, a deflated chuckle escaping her. Bob soon joins in, gesturing to Will.

"You weren't kidding."

There's another thick pause, and Bob takes a silent breath before returning to a familiar subject.

"It kinda makes my idea of moving to Maine sound a little less crazy, right?"

"Oh, it... it's not crazy at all." She reassures.

A warm smile tugs at his lips and Joyce can feel the effects of his contagious charm, a smirk coming onto her face as well. But the moment quickly slips away at the sound of a familiar voice stirring from the bed.

"Mom?"

The couple is quick to join his side, and Bob enters the hall in a beat calling for the doctor. Joyce reaches him in no time, her palm reaching out for her son to stroke his cold cheek.

"Sweetie, how are you feeling? You okay?"

Bob steps back into the room, leaving the door ajar and Mike stirs awake at the small commotion.

"Okay, they're on their way," Bob says, joining Joyce's side, and gives Will a warm smile. "Hey."

Will frowns at his mother, gesturing to Bob.

"Who is that?"

Joyce chuckles nervously, and worry quickly settles into everyone's chest.

"What?" Joyce asks.

"It's me, big guy. It's Bob."

His palm extends to meet Will's, to give him a reassuring tap on the arm but Will pulls away reluctantly. There is suspicion and fear in his eyes as he inspects the man for what looks to be the first time.

"Are you a... doctor?"

The tension in the air rises, but Bob tries to push through it. Joyce and Mike only watch the exchange with great worry.

"No. No, it's just me. Just... just Bob."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Lucas coasts down Old Cherry Road, his heart rate climbing steadily. As he approaches, his ears perk up at the muffled rock music blasting from inside one of the many houses. He knows this is the one he has been looking for when he recognizes the car Max had climbed into many times. And more importantly, the one that nearly ran him and his friends over.

Inside, Billy hardly fights the anger rising in his chest at the doorbell that keeps ringing. He continues his set, his fuse shortening when it goes unanswered. With an angered grunt, he drops the bar and grabs his cigarette from his lips.

"Max, are you getting that or what?" He roars.

An impressive huff escaped her, her eyes rolling to the back of her head briefly in disdain.

"Okay!" She snaps, chucking her half-taped board on her mattress before standing.

The doorbell rings once more, and not a second later Billy continues to berate her.

"I swear to God, Max!"

She stomps down the hall in a fury, making an effort to glare menacingly at her stepbrother in a last act of defiance. She moves swiftly around his equipment, hair flying behind her as her speed increases with every frantic ring of the doorbell. She rips the door open, expecting to deal with another noise complaint from Billy's music that would somehow get her in trouble. To her surprise, it wasn't. The sight Max finds on her front porch is much worse.

To her horror, Lucas, flashing her a tiny, sheepish smile. And completely unsuspecting of her brother and his malicious, bigoted ways only a few feet away. It sinks Max's heart right into her stomach. She knows if he is caught here, there was no telling what Billy would do to him. Her head whips around to the living room, grateful Billy has his back turned. Quickly, she steps outside closing the door behind her.

"What are you doing here?" She hisses.

Her voice is urgent and hushed, and oh how she hates that Billy holds this power over her. The power to make her feel unsafe in her own home, the power to make her fear for other people's safety no matter where she is.

"I have proof," Lucas says, not without a trace of excitement.

"What?"

"Proof that what I told you was real. But we have to hurry."

"What kind of proof? Y/n proof, or something-I'm-gonna-regret-seeing-later proof?"

Lucas winced.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

With a half-hearted grunt, Billy places the weights back on the rack and sits up. He takes one long drag of his cigarette before exhaling, his attention returning to the front door. He realizes he hasn't heard any conversation and when he sees he is alone-no sign of the nuisance he called a step-sister, and a closed front door-he knows Max is up to no good. In his eyes, she isn't. He rises from the bench and stalks forward towards the door, taking a swig from his beer can and placing it on the mantle just as the door swings open.

Max slips inside through the small gap she created in the doorway, quick to close the door the moment she was inside. As if on autopilot, she stomps through the living room-not very far-before she halts suddenly in her tracks. Billy is blocking off the entryway, his shoulders squared and a fixed glare on her-clearly unafraid of reminding her the many physical advantages he had over her. She jumps, not expecting his presence but she does well to hide it.

"Who the hell were you talking to?" He asks with venom.

Max collects herself, her eyes struggle not to dart around the room and he notes the uneasy twitch in her brow line.

"Mormons."

A sick smile tugs at his lips, a smirk made of a mix of disgust and triumph. He can almost laugh at her pathetic lie. Almost.

"Mormons?"

She nods, a rising sense of confidence in her tone that makes it harder for him to confront her.

"Talkative ones."

With that, she slips past him and makes a swift exit to her room. He stares after her, the gears turning in his head but he can't quite pin anything on her yet, much to his chagrin. He heads for the door, ripping it open as she did moments ago and steps onto the empty porch. His eyes scan the street but he sees no sign of anyone, just an empty lawn and others like them up and down the road. His jaw clenches, his anger flickering inside him more but he shoves it away for now, and heads back inside.

Meanwhile, Max reaches her room, closing her door behind her and making her way to her window. She's gets it open in record time-and perfect silence. Just as she had instructed, Lucas awaits outside her window, his movements urgent as he beckons her down.

"Come on, hop on!"

Max quickly climbs through the window, her feet planting on the small landing just below and jumps onto the grass. She quickly takes a seat behind Lucas, grabbing his shoulders she leans around him to speak.

"This better be good, stalker."

In a matter of moments, the pair is off. Silently, they slip around the back of the house and disappear down the road.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The yellow beam of light shifts from eye to eye and Will does his best to ignore the flash of negatives his brain sees. He is surrounded by somewhat familiar faces. He does not understand the fuss being made, his mother and friend he recognizes but now there was a strange man in scrubs that stayed behind. Bob. He wasn't sure why he was being treated like this.

"Do you know your name?" The doctor asks.

"Will."

"Your full name?" He asks, tucking the flashlight into his breast pocket.

"William Byers." He says simply.

"Do you know... Do you know who I am?"

Will thinks for a moment, the question obvious and unnecessary.

"A doctor."

Will tries to ignore the fact that he is surrounded by a medical team that watches him studiously. He does all he can to focus his attention on the doctor before him, and answer his questions but he can't help but start to doubt his own sanity. Or at least the sanity of everyone around him. Was he supposed to have known everyone circling him now?

"Have we met before?" The doctor asks.

Will's brow fell into a crease, he shakes his head simply.

"I don't remember."

"Hmm."

Elsewhere, a large team of staff assigned to the Byers case watches the feed with intrigue. The live footage from Byers' room is displayed on one of many monitors and they watch, paying close attention to the quizzical and unexpected turn the boy has taken.

"You don't remember me?" They hear Owens ask.

They see the boy shake his head, and Owens nods.

"Okay," he extends an arm and points in Mike's direction. "How about, uh... How about this guy here?"

Mike shifts uneasily, his heart pounding against his chest as his best friend slowly turns to look at him. Nervously, he retracts one hand from his pocket and waves weakly before returning to the comfort of the is pocket. He suddenly felt silly for it, but the fear quickly won out. His fingers fumble anxiously with the loose thread from the shoddy stitching as he waits for answer.

Will does not answer immediately, his eyes are darker and his gaze is distant and detached.

"That's okay, take your time," Owens assures.

The look in his eyes bothers Mike, and the longer Will neglects to speak the longer eternity seems to stretch on. Never, not even once has Mike seen this look on Will. He is not himself, and he fears the worst. The ghost of their conversation at the Byers house being shoved to the back of his mind as it creeps up. Not himself. He isn't frowning, like Will usually does when he is stumped. His brow isn't furrowed, and there is no sign that he is frustrated by his stump. He just... stares. All emotions devoid from his features and he is much too calm. Finally, he speaks.

"That's my friend." He says slowly. "Mike."

Mike doesn't fight the breath of relief, but he can't help but think that their troubles were far from over.

The next person to speak is the tallest man in the room, Will notes. He had joined them not long ago and had stuck by his mother's side. He smiles weakly, but he can tell that for the man, it is genuine.

"What about me, kid? You remember me?"

His attention slowly shifts to the tall man, and he searches his brain, what's left of the foggy memories that have only grown clouded and dark in the past few hours. But he sees nothing, nothing about this tall, bearded man and he shakes his head. He recognizes the look of disappointment and worry, but he quickly tries to bury it.

"They tell me you helped save me last night. You remember that?"

Will shakes his head once more. His attention is once again shifted to the doctor at his bedside.

"Do you remember anything about last night? About what happened?"

Will feels a twinge of anger, and the ghost of the pain from the previous night ignites his memory.

"I remember they hurt me."

《•••》

Will collapsed to the ground in agony. Mike dropped to the ground quickly after him, grasping his friend trying to get him to calm. But it was no use. Will was now lying on the grass, his entire body felt like it was on fire. His vision was as white as the white-hot searing pain running through his veins.

《•••》

Joyce winces at the memory, her stomach turning and her palm reaches to her face, her fingers massaging her temples. She feels Bob's hand reach her back and pat her soothingly in an attempt to calm her.

"You mean the doctors?" Owens asks.

His eyes still dark and blank-his composure flat and calculated-he shakes his head.

"No," he says, his tiny voice as dark as his eyes. No one had seen the boy so still. "The soldiers."

《•••》

The figure, who had been properly equipped, aimed his device and a violent spurt of fire erupted from the end. The vines writhed and shrieked violently as they shriveled up.

《•••》

"The soldiers hurt you?"

Will blinks slowly, the first he has in a while and his voice grows hoarse and angered. He is enraged-betrayed-the darkness clouding his usual hazel green eyes and now they seem almost black. His tone only sends spikes of fear into the hearts of those who are closest to Will. And it only reminds Mike of the previous day, when Will had forced Y/n away.

When Will spoke, Mike felt a familiar chill run down his spine. And only now does he recognize the tone in Will's voice. How it held no emotion and he seemed so distant. And cold.

Not himself.

Mike felt as if he was reliving that moment over, but the only difference was the person who hurt him. Or something inside him.

"They shouldn't have done that." Says Will, darkly. His pale face slowly slips into a scowl, a threatening glance anyone would be unsettled by and his voice grew more venomous.

"It upset him."

The blood was pounding in Mike's ears by now, and on instinct he finds himself looking to Mrs. Byers. But all she can focus on is her son. Or rather, what looked like her son. What used to be. Mike had to shake the dark thoughts from his mind, but he couldn't help but blame himself. He had already slipped into this state before, why hadn't he done more? Talked to Mrs. Byers? Tell him how he changed so briefly but drastically right before his eyes? At least he managed to break free from it last time. But now... now things were different.

All he can manage to do for now is watch as Owens takes a photograph from a file folder that sits on the bed, he hands it to Will who takes it.

"You say, "Upset him." Is that him?"

Will's darkened eyes trail up from the picture and meet the man's eyes. He merely nods, and even though no words are spoken aloud, the room is hit with another dreadful chill. Owens takes the photograph back and sets it on the folder as he looks around the room.

"Okay, I want to try something." He instructs. "It's gonna seem a little odd at first, but I think it's really gonna help us understand what's going on."

He gently places a hand on Will's shoulder, sending a reassuring look to the boy as best as he could manage.

Will's eyes flicker to the hand on his shoulder. He tries to ignore the small but uncomfortable body heat from his palm, and he tries even harder to stifle the anger. It reminds him of the boy-the threat-and what he did, how he hurt Will. He pushes the memory aside and looks to the man, nodding.

"Okay."

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

The steel cart jostles as it crosses the bumpy threshold of the room, a glass case with no lid sits on top. Inside, a loose tentacle collected from the tunnels. Hopper quickly recognized the thing, and he felt his insides twist in knots, alarms going off in his head. He had only just been shown the lab's secret, he couldn't say he was surprised but Owens and his team had just taken them underground. Where they had their very own, private access to the tunnels he had previously been trapped in.

He had been assured they were monitoring it, but it all felt like a load of crap to him. He shifts on his feet as he watches it all unfold.

"Now, Will," Owens begins. "I want you to just let us know if you feel anything. Okay?"

He nods once more, and Owens gives the assistant the all-clear. The blowtorch in his hands flick on, a steady hiss emanates from the strong flame and the man slowly lowers it inside the case. Will stares wide-eyed as the blue flame is lowered, his breathing hitches and speeds up. Short and ragged, and his face has already begun to pale.

The creature begins to hiss. Its dark violet body begins to write against the steel, leaving behind strings of slime. It shrinks back, clearly in pain. The others watch, their attention breaking from Will to the heart monitor he is hooked up to. Beeping increases as his heartbeat picks up.

"Do you feel anything?"

Will's breath hitches, his face twitching in pain. He begins to stammer as he fidgets.

"Little sting."

"It stings. Where?"

The flame lowers further and Will shifts on the mattress, his left hand suddenly clutching his heart. His face contorts in pain, and his cold demeanor has begun to melt into pain.

"My chest." He whimpers.

"Okay, son." He mumbles, patting his arm but he makes no effort to stop.

Joyce reaches out and places a gentle hand on his leg from the end of the bed and begins to mumble encouraging thoughts and showing her concern and support. After a determined and swift nod from the man, the assistant nods and lowers the flame. Everything immediately intensifies, the heart monitor beeps faster, the creature squeals turn to shrieks and Will begins to writhe, clutching desperately at his chest.

"How about now?" He asks urgently.

Will begins to choke on air, he is desperately trying to speak through the pain but he can barely manage the words.

"It... It burns."

Dr. Owens only grows more intense, he leans forward in the slightest as his bushy brows furrow. The flame lowers further and it nearly touches the creature. It cries in agony and so does Will.

"Ah! It burns!"

"Where?"

Another screech and Will gasps for breath, he chokes on his words but he manages a scream that tears through his scalding chest.

"Everywhere!"

The flames lick at its slimy, moist and sizzling skin and it ignites a deafening, agonizing scream from Will. Joyce's face hardens and she begins to shout.

"That's enough. That's enough!"

Will's cries climb higher and louder and within moments it's just as he was when they brought him in. The assistant does nothing and the flame continues to burn the flesh of the creature. Will shifts feverishly on the bed, his head rolling back as he shrieks at the sky. His agonizing cries pierce Joyce's ears and stab at her heart. She continues to try and stop their efforts but her voice is drowned out in Will's screams and even then they ignore her. Hopper jumps in, separating Will from Owens and throws his arms out and he roars at them viciously.

"Stop! You heard her! That's enough!"

The flame retracts and the man shrinks back as the creature does. Patches of its skin are burned away, showing pinkish and inflamed skin, and Will gasps for breath. Hopper stands over the boy protectively and himself as Joyce sends deadly stares to every staff member.

"That's it! We're done!" Hopper barks.

The rooms falls silent and every staff member squirms uncomfortably. Joyce sets aside her fury and redirects her attention to her boy. Soothingly, she pats his leg-the only place she can reach from the end of the bed-and whispers encouraging words.

"Sweetie... Sweetie. It's okay."

Will visibly relaxes, his breathing is still harsh and spotty. He pants heavily, and the heart monitor gradually slows. The creature's wails die down to a ragged hiss and everyone looks around the room.

Owens ushers Joyce and Hopper outside to the hall where they now speak in hushed whispers.

"Our best guess right now is it's some kind of virus which is causing this neurological disorder." The man explains. "Now, when... when a typical virus attaches itself to the host..."

《•••》

── DEC. 1983 ──

Will grips the bathroom sink, his knuckles turning white as he feels a gag shake his body. He lurches forward over the sink as nausea coils tightly around his stomach. He can feel movement traveling up his throat, and something tells him it's not vomit. A disgusting salty taste travels across his tongue and he watches in horror and disgust as a thick slug-like creature hits the bottom of the sink with a shuddering 'plop'.

Will manages to keep his coughs stifled, hopefully his mother and brother do not hear him from the dining room table. His stomach plummets, not only in disgust that this thing was living inside him but also fear. It slithers towards the drain, leaving a trail of paled green slime in its tracks.

《•••》

"...it duplicates, right? It spreads, essentially hijacking the host."

Joyce winces at the man's words, and once more do her fingers reach her temples and rub fixed circles as he continues.

"A virus is alive. It has an intelligence."

《•••》

Will was panting heavily, but he slowly turned around coming face to face with the monster. It towered over the school, looking directly at Will.

《•••》

"That's not... That's not unusual." Owens pauses with a frown, gesturing down the hall. "What is so unusual here, this virus... the infected hosts seem to be communicating."

《•••》

The figure, who had been properly equipped, aimed his device and a violent spurt of fire erupted from the end. The vines writhed and shrieked violently as they shriveled up.

At that exact moment, Will-who had been waiting worriedly outside as the army of men surrounded and descended after his mother and Bob-collapsed to the ground.

•••

Will convulsed uncontrollably, his limbs on fire, spreading as rapidly as the flames in the hub below. As the vines screamed in agony, Will screamed too. He was now on his back, screaming violently into the night. Mike jumped back startled, watching helplessly in horror as his best friend writhed in the grass, his mouth wide open and his eyes rolled back into his head as he shrieked in agony.

《•••》

"It has some sort of hive intelligence, and it's connecting all the hosts."

《•••》

The monster bellowed, and one large tentacle began twirling down onto the ground, the size of a small tornado. The swirling gust of black fog engulfed Will.

•••

Dart looked up from his meal and faced a horrified Dustin, his long slimy tail flicking back and forth. He roared, causing his head to open up, hundreds of bloodied teeth showing as any other Demogorgon would.

•••

The flame lowers further and it nearly touches the creature, it cries in agony and so does Will.

《•••》

"The good news is a virus can be cured. We... We're gonna continue to run tests. We're gonna see what we find."

Joyce shakes her head in disbelief and fights back her tears as she speaks.

"What happens when he can't remember anything? W-When there's nothing else there?" She steps forward towards the man, who once again grows uneasy. "What happens when my boy is gone?"

The man stands dumbfounded and without an answer. Joyce brings a trembling hand to her quivering lip, choking back sobs at the horrendous thought. She feels helpless like there's nothing she can do. And she loathes it.

#you'll float queue #stranger things #cosmic #reader insert #will byers #stranger things x reader #joyce byers #mike wheeler #jim hopper #dr. sam owens #bob newby #dustin henderson #steve harrington #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #billy hargrove #will byers x male!reader #will byers x reader #the spy

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actuallylorelaigilmore · 2 years

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2022 MOVIE OF THE WEEK #30

enola holmes. finally, i get to use this movie poster! i’ve had it saved on my computer for literally years because i knew i wanted to watch this as soon as it was announced--i love millie bobby brown. but, because i’m terrible at actually sitting down and focusing on movies, my excitement did not lead to me ever seeing it. until yesterday, because with the sequel coming out it was the perfect time to watch it with @actuallylukedanes. (anyone following my reviews will have noticed that this strategy works much better than trying to talk myself into viewing movies alone.)

i feel like this one is unusually easy for me to review briefly. (lol or so i thought so you get a cut for length after all.) it’s just a good time, and i don’t have complicated feelings about it. the twists and turns worked for me, even when they were predictable, the cast had even more of my faves than i knew going in, and they all do a great job. sam claflin made an unfortunately effective, obnoxious mycroft. and i light up inside when fiona shaw appears anywhere.

where fourth wall breaking is concerned, it never bothers me, but i definitely liked it better on fleabag and gentleman jack. i think there were some elements of the movie that i couldn’t appreciate as much, just because i’m not a teenager anymore. which is unusual for me because i never have trouble remembering that stage of my life, and i often still love teen stories--moxie was a netflix movie i didn’’t expect to like but i enjoyed it a lot.

it’s either that or the fact that this movie was adapted and directed by men, so it’s their idea of what a teenage girl (including her inner life) is like. i’m not familiar with the source material to compare. but some of the fourth wall breaking and the way she reacts to having her hand kiss left me wondering if i cringed at that because i actually found it impossible to understand and relate to...or if i’ve just forgotten how much like that i was when i was younger.

i loved the story, and it made me really happy that she got to see her mom by the end but that their reunion wasn’t a magical happy ending. her mother was still a revolutionary who was choosing the fight over being a mom, and her apology couldn’t repair the damage she caused when she abandoned enola to sudden adulthood. it felt perfectly complicated, in the way that i wish more media reflected mother/daughter dynamics. part of growing up, for enola, meant learning who her mother really was, and never being able to see her or their past as simple again. that just felt true to life and i appreciated it.

her romance felt forced in that ‘of course a teen girl needs a boy love interest’ way to me, but at least he was made necessary by the story. i hated his hair after she cut it, which is a tiny petty thing, but it distracted me because then the whole time she was gaining interest in him i was like ‘why though?? he was only cute before!’ lol. they were well-suited as people, so i did like that.

if their relationship continues in the sequel i’ll be interested to see if/how they make him matter to the plot, outside of romance, because that was definitely a strength of this movie for me. she needed someone to save, someone who would need her after her mother abandoned her, while he would not have survived without her--and his life created her very first mystery to solve and find her way forward. so i wonder how they continue on from there, if he’ll just be The Boyfriend now while she has adventures.

henry cavill was a great sherlock. finding out randomly when i was looking up this movie that netflix got sued over his portrayal of sherlock, because he gave him emotions, is beyond hilarious to me and only makes me love him more.

i loved the violent suffragettes, and the single person in existence who was not even a little impressed by sherlock, and all the codes (i played with ciphers my whole childhood and i’m pretty sure i didn’t even know who sherlock holmes was then, so i like the invention of his clever younger sister.) i enjoyed feminist mom helena bonham carter whose intentions were good but whose choices were complicated at best, selfish at worst.

i really didn’t need enola being dragged to a finishing school against her will, but of course i enjoyed fiona shaw running it. and mycroft in the carriage with enola taking away her money--her last hint of freedom--gave me a sense of true menace, which was upsetting...but with that kind of portrayal sam claflin managed to make me completely not recognize him until his name flashed in the end credits, so i must offer respect for his acting.

like i said, this one was overall just a good time and i am excited for the sequel now that i am prepared to watch it. let’s hope it doesn’t take me two years. :)

#enola holmes #2022 motw #millie bobby brown #actuallylukedanes #sam claflin #fiona shaw #henry cavill #helena bonham carter

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hederasgarden · 1 year

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I posted 1,690 times in 2022

That's 1,690 more posts than 2021!

765 posts created (45%)

925 posts reblogged (55%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hederasgarden

@wildbornsiren

@a-reader-and-a-writer

@yespolkadotkitty

@iguana-braces

I tagged 1,317 of my posts in 2022

Only 22% of my posts had no tags

#is - 571 posts

#📦 - 372 posts

#my fic recs - 118 posts

#💌 - 106 posts

#⁉ - 93 posts

#rhett abbott - 71 posts

#outer range - 65 posts

#rhett abbott x you - 64 posts

#hangman x reader - 54 posts

#the gray man - 49 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#miles teller is really testing the limits of what i find attractive with the mustache in top gun and a mullet in this movie

My Top Posts in 2022:

Bloodlust

Summary: After battle, Aemond visits your tent.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lady Wife!Reader

Word Count: 1.8K

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Rough sex, fingering, biting, knife play and PIV sex. Basically smut with feels.

A/N: Thank you @whatblogisthis216, @shootingthroughthemoon, @handoverthekawaii and @shadycloudphilosopher for their help with this!

Likes are lovely but comments and reblogs make my day!

Masterlist

The ground shakes and the distant, angry roar of a dragon deafens the camp. Even from within your tent, you recognize Vhagar’s cry.

Your husband has returned.

There is no telling his mood, it varies wildly these days as the fighting intensifies. Some days he has little time for you, pouring over maps and plans with the men he commands until the early morning hours only to leave again soon after. Other days he wants nothing more than to lose himself in the comfort of your body, working hard to make your belly swell with a child again. What he wants from you today remains to be seen but it’s best to be prepared.

You stand, drawing the attention of the small gathering of women and servants in your tent.

“Thank you all for joining me this afternoon. I think it’s time for me to retire for the day,” you announce.

They bid you goodbye quickly and you watch them slowly file outside. It’s best for everyone if they’re not present when Aemond arrives. Your husband cared little for propriety when his blood lust was high from battle. His reputation and missing eye frightened many of the ladies; you couldn’t imagine their scandalized expressions if they saw him how you did in those unrestrained moments. He had scared you once too but that was when you were young and naive. Your head was filled with rumors about his awful deeds and garish appearance.

Now you know better. There was no doubt he could be cruel and violent. You’d seen first hand how easily he crushed his enemies and those that would harm the ones he loved, though he was never unkind to you. Even in the beginning when you were nothing to one another he protected you fiercely simply because you were his. He was gentle then too, his eye always seeking yours to determine your reaction to each touch and kiss he placed on your body and for that alone you would have cherished him but over the years you'd grown to love him too.

“Princess….” You turn, surprised to find one of the newer servants watching you with an unexpectedly concerned expression. “Would you like me to remain?”

“I can handle the Prince,” you assure her with a smile. “Go. Please…”

“As you wish,” she says, dipping her head and disappearing through the flaps of the tent.

When your betrothal to Prince Aemond was announced, this was hardly how you imagined passing your days. You expected something more sedate and safe within the Red Keep but your husband liked you close. It kept him calm and focused, reminding him of what he fought for. You learned to love the freedom it gave you outside his mother’s watchful eye and the King’s lecherous one.

Your only warning before Aemond stalks through the tent flaps is a hushed greeting of, Your Highness, from the guards stationed at the entrance of your tent. He ignores them, his eye focused solely on you as he sheds pieces of his outer armor with each step. As he continues his steady approach, his sword and outer doublet fall to the floor. The last thing to be removed is his eye patch and your gaze is automatically drawn to the brilliant sapphire jewel nestled there. It frightened many but you found him handsome like this.

“My Prince,” you greet. “How was the battle? Did you-” whatever words you would say to him are cut off by his mouth on yours.

He kisses you roughly, grabbing your hip and neck possessively. Together you stumble towards the bed in the corner of the room, his hands groping your body. When your legs tangle in your skirts Aemond grasps the back of your thighs, practically throwing you on the bed in a fit of impatience.You hardly have time to recover before he’s on top of you, slender fingers ripping at the collar of your dress to bare your shoulders to him. His teeth find your neck and you groan, hips rising to press against his. He sucks at the impression he’s left in your skin as he fumbles with your dress, seeking the warmest part of your body.

It doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient with your clothing and pull back. A grunt is your only warning before a dagger appears. Another woman might cower in fear at the sight but you only felt a peculiar rush of desire you had long since stopped trying to understand. Aemond was skilled with all manner of weapons and you learned about his penchant for small blades after the wedding. It was a favored bedmate for the both of you by now. You loved to watch him wield it. There was something beautiful about the way he handled it, the dagger moving between his fingers like water over stone.

In a flash your dress is split down the middle. Aemond wrenches it open with two hands, baring your upper body to his hungry gaze. The cold air washes over your heated skin and you shiver. He smirks and drags the flat of the blade over one breast and then the other until your nipples harden into peaks. He follows the cool blade with his warm tongue and you moan, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I should keep you naked all the time,” he whispers.“I could command it and you would listen, my obedient little wife.”

He doesn’t wait for your response before shifting down your body, flipping the knife easily in his hand to make quick work of the lower half of your dress. When he is done it hangs in tatters off your body along with your small clothes. He looms over you, something in his gaze both thrilling and terrifying. In moments like this, it’s not hard to believe the tales about the madness that lives within each Targaryen. Aemond looks like he could devour you whole.

“I’ve been dreaming of this warmth,” he admits, long fingers stroking the thick patch of curls at the apex of your thighs. He continues speaking, his voice smooth and hypnotic. “Of how tight and hot you’d feel around me.”

You’re wet enough that when he seeks out your bundle of nerves his fingers slip easily over the sensitive flesh, teasing your entrance only to pull away a second later. You stare up at him, breath ragged as you wait to see what he will do. He smirks, withdrawing his hand and laying his body over yours. The weight of him presses you into the bed, spiking the molten heat that builds in your stomach

“I’d kill for you, for this,” he whispers, lips sliding over yours to cut off the gasp you make when he forces a hand between your bodies and curls two fingers possessively inside you.

You tear your lips away from his. “Aemond, please.”

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1,356 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

Safe With Me

Summary: Six is a hard man to read up until the moment he isn’t.

Paring: Sierra Six (Court Gentry) x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

Rating: Mature, 18+ only. AU, violence, blood, angst, whumpage, death and some sexual content.

A/N: If this gets a good response I will write a sequel that takes place during the movie. Please note the reader has been Claire’s caretaker since her first surgery and is in her early 30s. The story is based on this ask. Thank you N and a @a-reader-and-a-writer for beta'ing and @skvatnavle for the title.

When Six comes into your lives, you’re not sure what to make of him. He’s clearly CIA-adjacent like Fitz – or some other alphabet agency– though he has none of the easy warmth of Claire's uncle. Just his quick sense of humor, but even that comes out sparingly, often startling a laugh from you. Claire takes to him quickly, poking and prodding at his cool exterior until you begin to see little cracks in it. Small glimpses of the man beneath the protector.

Once you notice the little tells, it becomes easier to catch them. Like the soft way he looks at Claire when she’s singing along to a record or the way his lips twitch up into a brief smile every time you remember his favorite pastry from the bakery. It’s apparent in the way his hand always rests at the small of your back when you’re out in public together, guiding you along as Claire tugs excitedly at your arm. You see it in the way he keeps himself as a buffer between the two of you and other people.

It’s how you know his nightly check-in at bedtime isn't just about following security protocol. Seeing you both safely tucked into bed for the night seems to ease some of the tension he carries. Most times the two of you don’t speak, he just pokes his head in and nods, giving you that awkward little grimace he probably thinks is a smile. Claire is another story, you can normally hear her excited little voice asking Six a hundred different questions that he patiently answers.

Tonight you’re in bed early, a warm cup of tea and a book in your hand. You thumb through the pages while you wait for him to come say good night, unable to rest until this part of your routine is complete. The clock on your bedside ticks steadily forward until it’s 9:05. Six is always prompt and when he doesn't show you grow concerned, venturing out to find him. You don’t make it far before a gloved hand covers your mouth and an arm snakes around your stomach. You’re pulled back against a solid wall of muscle.

“Tell us where the girl is,” comes the gravelly demand.

In your panicked state you thrash around, jerking your head back. Pain explodes along your skull and the man groans, releasing you. When you look back, you see blood pouring from his broken nose. You scramble away from him and scream for Six but the man catches you quickly. He forces you on your back and your head snaps to the side with the force of the first blow. You lay there stunned, with the taste of pennies in your mouth. You've never been hit before or purposely hurt like this and the ugly surprise of it is almost worse than the pain.

Tears well up and you breathe in wetly, blood escaping from your split lip down your chin. The man stares at you and even though the mask hides most of his face the anger in his gaze is unmistakable. Before you can recover he hauls you to your feet and throws you roughly against the wall, demanding you take him to Claire.

"No," you croak. He strikes you a second time and you flinch. God you hope Claire made it to the panic room. The thought of this man touching her makes your stomach roll. You close your eyes when he asks you again, waiting for another blow to come but nothing happens. When you hear the audible click of a gun’s safety your eyes shoot open. The man in front of you freezes.

He’s quick to recover, turning around and bringing you in front of him as a shield. You blink rapidly to clear your tears, relief surging through your body at the sight of Six. He looks a little worse for wear, a wound on his arm bleeding sluggishly and a gash on his side. To your surprise, he doesn’t address the man but looks right at you.

“You alright?” He asks.

You're not, but you nod anyway.

“Where’s the girl? Take me to her or I’ll kill this one,” the man demands, pressing a knife to your throat.

You whimper and Six’s lips thin, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Still, he doesn’t look at the man, speaking to you again. “Did he do that to you?” Six asks, motioning to your face.

“Yes.”

“Take me to the girl,” the man growls.

You jerk in his arms when you feel the blade split the skin of your throat. Six takes a step forward but stills, watching you for a long moment before he shifts his attention to the man behind you.

“I want you to know. I was going to leave one of you alive. The CIA loves to interrogate you assholes… but you touched her. That was a mistake,” he says, his voice cold and even. When he speaks again he’s still watching the man though you know he’s addressing you. “Close your eyes.”

You squeeze them shut, holding your breath. There’s no hiding what Six means to do and even though you know it’s coming you still flinch at the sound of the gun and the hollow thump of the man’s body hitting the floor behind you. You don’t realize you’re holding your breath until you feel Six’s touch on the side of your neck.

At his coaxing, your eyes flutter open, and you stare at his bloodied face. You can’t stop your hands from shaking and when your lips part no sound comes out. Some part of you knows you’re in shock, but you can’t make your body cooperate. It’s a struggle to breathe.

“It’s alright, take a breath,” Six instructs, cradling the uninjured side of your face in his hand. You inhale through your nose as he continues to watch you, nodding encouragingly until you're breathing normally.

"Six," you whisper, grasping his shirt.

“How are you doing, hen?” He questions, the use of his terrible nickname for you startling a laugh from you. Mother hen. For the way you tended to follow Claire around the house, fussing over her even when she tried to wave you off. “Should we go check on our little chick?” He asks.

“Where is she? Did they-” you start.

Six is quick to reassure you. “She went straight to the safe room just like I taught her. She’s okay,” he promises.

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1,490 notes - Posted July 27, 2022

Flirting For Dummies - Part 1

Summary: Turns out the crush you have on one of the pilots that frequents the Hard Deck isn’t quite so unrequited. You’re just bad at recognizing when someone’s flirting with you. Good thing Jake’s happy to help you understand how interested he really is.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Rating: General. The second part will include explicit sexual content and be 18+ only. This part features Hangman being a cocky little shit, a shy reader (inspired by @thewhiskersonkittens post asking for Jake with a shy reader), a misunderstanding and some kissing.

Word Count: 2.1K

A/N: This is my first of hopefully many Top Gun fics. Please let me know if you enjoy this. Reblogs and comments feed the muse.

The pencil is clutched firmly between your teeth as you highlight another important passage in your book. It’s still early enough that the background sound from the bar is at a steady hum instead of the loud, chaotic energy you know it’ll morph into soon. The golden hours between lunch and the evening rush are the best time to study at the Hard Deck, it’s less stuffy than the library or the studio apartment you rent, plus you get free fries here. That’s hard to beat.

“Almost done?” One of the other bartenders, Becky, asks as she passes by you on her way to the kitchen.

“Almost,” you respond. Technically there are two more chapters you need to read but with only 15 minutes until your shift starts there’s no chance you can make that happen. You don’t really care anyway, you’re tired of studying. What you need is a break, something more than sitting alone on your couch watching true crime documentaries with a pint of ice cream.

With a defeated sigh you close your book and lean back to stretch, letting out a startled little gasp when you realize the seat beside you is no longer empty, but taken up by the handsome pilot who you’ve spent entirely too much time thinking about. He’s become a regular at the bar over the last few months, coming in like clockwork on Thursdays and Fridays. Sometimes he’s alone, just ordering dinner and a drink though mostly he comes in with a group of other people wearing the same service khakis to play pool.

You don't know his actual name, just his call sign - Hangman. He's friendly, tipping generously and has a habit of winking at you when you dropped off his drinks. That made you incredibly nervous even if you did like it. You know it doesn’t mean anything… He’s charming to all the bartenders, even succeeding in making the unflappable Becky blush once.

Penny warned you the pilots were the worst of the bunch but the others didn’t make you nearly as nervous as Hangman did. You liked watching him from afar, aware of how his type operated. They didn’t go for girls like you. You weren’t pretty like Becky or funny like Janet, the other bartender you often worked with.

Having his full attention focused on you throws you for a loop. “What?” You stammer, completely missing whatever he just said.

“I asked what you are reading about?” Hangman repeats, leaning into your space to see the title of your textbook.

He’s so close that you can smell his cologne, a potent mix of sandalwood and a sweet citrusy undercurrent. When your mouth opens to respond all that escapes is a uhhhh sound. He smirks, pressing into your space and laying his arm along the back of the bar stool. You meet his beautiful green eyes for just a second before you clear your throat and look away.

“Coastal Ecology,” you finally manage to force out.

“You’ll have to speak up sweetheart,” Hangman says, tapping on the wooden bar. “It’s loud in here.”

It’s actually not but he still leans in and warmth sweeps up your chest into your throat. You hate the way the stupid pet name makes your stomach swoop. Normally you despise all the honey, baby, or darlins you get from the men at the bar, but there is something in the way he says it that’s different. You want him to call you that and mean it, even though you know he never would.

“I’m studying coastal ecology,” you repeat, turning to look at him fully, buoyed by a brief swell of confidence.

“Smart girl, huh?” He asks, grinning. You sit up straighter at his praise. “Why are you doing it at a bar? Hoping for some attention?”

His words curdle that pleasantly warm feeling in your chest.

“I work here,” you defend, sliding off the bar stool to put distance between the two of you. “I’m in grad school and the owner lets me study before my shift.”

The urge to continue and over-explain is hard to resist. You owe him nothing so cut yourself off and focus on putting your things away, but when you reach for your book he rests his hand on it to stop you from taking it. You stare at the large ring he wears on one finger, not wanting to meet his gaze. After a moment he sighs and draws his hand back. You spot an annoyed, almost confused look on his face, which quickly dissipates replaced by a bland smile.

“Ok then. Guess we’ll take a round of beers. Over at the pool tables,” he says, stepping back.

It’s not your shift for another 10 minutes so you pass on the order to Becky and go hide in the back office until you need to clock in. Despite your best efforts you somehow find yourself looking over to the pool table and meeting the blonde man’s eyes. He doesn’t smirk like you expect. There’s a little furrow between his brows instead.

"He's hot," Becky says, coming to lean against the bar next to you while you slice up a lime. “Probably a jackass but he’d show you a good time.”

"What?" You ask, embarrassed to be caught looking.

"Mr. Tall Blonde and Built," she indicates, pointing to Hangman. "All pilots are cocky, especially that bunch.”

"Bob is sweet," you defend, thinking of the timid but endearing pilot who always stammers his way through talking to Janet and you.

"Bob is an outlier and if he wasn't so into Janet I'd love to take him home and sit on that pretty face. He looks like he’d be so eager. Like one of those golden retriever types.” She sighs wistfully.

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1,653 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

Night Drive

Summary: Your reunion with Rooster gets interrupted by Hangman.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!Reader x Jake “Hangman” Seresin

Word Count: 867

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only. Semi public oral sex (m receiving), discussions of threesome, cum swapping and dirty talk.

A/N: Thank you @whatblogisthis216 @therebeccaw and @wildbornsiren for looking this over. I have been away for a while and had anxious moment about my writing skills. Thanks guys!

Please reblog or comment if you enjoyed! Your support keeps me writing.

Masterlist ♡ Top Gun Masterlist

It’s dark on the beach, the stars above bright and beautiful with the ocean waves crashing against the shore, but you don’t see or hear any of that. Your face is pressed firmly against Rooster’s hard, tanned stomach and his soft grunts fill your ears.

“Fuck,” he sighs, hands on the back of your head keeping you in place.

You moan in response, trying to breathe around his thick length as you suck on his cock. Giving him a blow job in the front seat of his bronco isn’t the brightest idea, but you’re parked in a quiet and secluded spot. Here Rooster can be as loud as he wants and there’s no danger of someone overhearing the wet, sloppy sounds you’re making.

God, you’ve missed him. He’s been gone on a mission for weeks and the familiar taste of his skin and cum are enough to have you wet and achy.

“Couldn’t wait to get home, huh?” A voice asks, startling you both.

It’s Hangman, his southern drawl unmistakable. If you weren’t so preoccupied with swallowing all of Rooster, you might have told him to fuck off. You ignore him, bobbing your head.

“Like you’d deny her,” Rooster retorts, panting, squeezing and rubbing the back of your neck.

You can see Hangman’s feet shuffle closer and he whistles, bending down until his face is level with yours. He drags his fingertips along the curve of your jaw.

“Can’t blame you, Rooster. She looks real pretty like this with those tears and that eager little tongue.”

You can tell your boyfriend is getting ready for a quippy retort so you hollow your cheeks and swirl your tongue. He swears, groaning deeply. Hangman’s eyes are still on you and it emboldens you. The hand on your head twitches and you continue to work Rooster over, more enthusiastically than before. Just when you feel his heavy balls draw up against your lips you pull off him.

Sitting up with a smile, you ignore the wrecked sound Rooster makes in response. His thigh trembles below the hand you rest there, letting you know just how needy he is. “Sweetheart,” he whines, trying to guide you back to his cock.

“This isn’t a free show. It’s going to cost you,” you tell Hangman, ignoring your boyfriend.

“Oh darlin, you know I’m good for it,” he boasts, using his thumb to wipe the spit on your mouth. He maintains eye contact as he slowly licks his finger clean. The skin around his eyes crinkle and he gives you a smug look.

“What did you have in mind?” You ask him, dropping your hand to Rooster’s lap to lazily stroke him. His desperate little grunt has you slowing your motion, teasing him further. Hangman’s gaze follows the movement, seemingly entranced.

“Paris is nice this time of year,” he says finally, grinning when Rooster bucks into your hand.

“Here?” you ask, doubtfully.

“No, at home,” Hangman tells you. “Unlike Rooster, I don’t like people looking at what’s mine.”

You roll your eyes, but shake his offered hand. Like you were going to say no to a night between your favorite men.

“Great. We have a deal. Now shut the fuck up,” Rooster dismisses, grasping the back of your neck to draw you back down to his aching cock. “Can’t you see the lady’s busy?”

You start again by teasing the head of his cock, tonguing at his slit while you twist his length in your hand. He’s achingly close and normally you’d let him come down your throat but tonight you have something else in mind. You keep just the tip between your lips, sucking and teasing him until he lifts his hips and fills your mouth with his hot, salty spend. You swallow some, savoring the taste and moaning deeply. Then you rise up on your knees and beckon Hangman closer.

He seems aware of your plan, licking his lips before kissing you deeply. You open your mouth to share Rooster’s taste with him, loving how your tongues tangle together, and Hangman swallows without hesitation. He rubs your arms and continues to kiss you until air becomes necessary and you pull away.

“Well shit, honey,” he begins, reaching down to adjust himself. “That was fucking something. I think you sucked Rooster’s brains out.”

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1,744 notes - Posted October 1, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A Lesson in Patience

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to try something new.

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Ratings: Explicit, 18+ only. Oral sex (f receiving), unprotected PIV, teasing/edging, and cockwarming.

A/N: This is smutty with a little fluff sprinkled in. Written in response to this ask. Reblogs and comments fuel the muse.

The Navy’s intense demands on Rooster meant your time with him could be limited. Often sex was quick and dirty, each of you desperate for the other. Half the time you didn't even make it to the bed. He'd ruck up your skirt and take you over the couch. Other times you fucked on the floor, but that usually came with a wisecrack about his bad knee after.

Tonight is different. You’re enjoying an uninterrupted weekend together. Saturday morning you stroll through the farmers market and pick out food to make dinner at home. In the middle of cooking Rooster pulls you into his arms when an old Elvis song crackles across the speaker. He sways your bodies back and forth as he sings along barefoot with you in the kitchen. You get so distracted, laughing and belting out the lyrics that dinner nearly burns. Everything feels hazy and soft, a rare moment of true domesticity. You love every second of it.

Now you're curled up on the couch together to watch a movie. After the opening credits Rooster's hand begins to creep up your thigh. You glance over at him, expecting to find him watching you, but instead he's staring straight ahead, seemingly engrossed in the movie. Slowly his fingers inch higher and higher until they're urging you to spread your legs wide enough for him to caress your clothed core. His touch is teasing and light, escalating only to recede a moment later. He continues his lazy campaign and it grows increasingly more difficult to concentrate on the movie. He's still pretending to watch it, exploring you unhurriedly though you see the way his lips are parted to take shallow breaths.

When he finally pushes aside your underwear to touch your bare skin, you drop your head back with a soft exhale. Your eyes close and you tune out the movie, concentrating on how his fingers gather the wetness there and spread it around. One teases your entrance as another rubs that little bundle of nerves.

By the halfway mark of the movie, he’s moved to the floor, curling two fingers inside you and sucking your clit. Rooster loves to make you come like this, eating you out in such a loud, messy way that would embarrass you if you weren’t so into it. When he finally helps push you over the edge you fall into an orgasm so intense you’re almost crushing his head between your thighs. He works you through it, each pass of his tongue across your bud sending a sharp aftershock through your nerves. Finally, it becomes too much and you push at his head, begging him to stop.

Rooster grins up at you, smoothing his mustache back into place with his thumb and forefinger. "Love that you beg me before and after," he says. "Does things for my ego.”

“You’re a pilot. I don’t think your ego can stand to get any bigger,” you tease.

“Something’s got a little bigger,” he whispers, rolling back on his heels and standing in one smooth motion.

You bite your lip and stare at the obvious tent in his gray sweatpants.

“Maybe we should go to the bedroom,” you suggest, standing.

“I wanna try something new,” he tells you.

Curious, you watch him undress and take a seat back on the couch. He beckons you forward with a wave.

“This isn’t something new."

“Give me a minute,” he replies, hands framing your waist as you straddle him.

Reaching below to grasp his cock, you give him a firm stroke that has him bucking into your hand with a groan. You grin and you sink down slowly. You’ll never get tired of this, the way he stretches and fills you perfectly. A roll of your hips is all it takes for him to make that low sound you love. Before you can do it again he stills your body with a firm grip. His fingers flex against your skin and he shakes his head.

“Don’t move.”

“What are you-”

“Shh,” he says, pressing a finger to your lips. “I just want to be inside you. Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

Even though it does feel good there’s an itch at the base of your spine –an overwhelming need to move. You try to lift up, but Rooster keeps you still by sliding his arms around your back to hold you to him. Sometimes you forget how strong he is, that all his training isn’t just to fly planes.

“You’re not going anywhere until I let you,” he warns with a smile.

You’re completely at his mercy and that makes your whole body throb with need.

“Relax,” Rooster encourages, trailing his fingertips down your spine lightly.

He kisses the skin of your chest and turns to rest his head there, nuzzling your breast. When the tension bleeds out of his body you realize he’s not going to move so you might as well get comfortable. You curl an arm around his shoulder and run your fingers through his hair with the other. Eventually you lay your cheek against the top of his head and breathe out.

Minutes tick past with neither of you speaking, just soaking up the feel of the other. His hold loosens by a fraction. Sensing a moment of weakness you cautiously try to rise up on your knees again but don’t get far. Rooster is quick to deliver a harsh slap to your ass in warning.

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1,907 notes - Posted June 19, 2022

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