#i wish id watched it sooner

[your-neighbor-bear]

A league of their own feels like a love letter to being queer.

This show is so amazing

#augh #bear says things #a league of their own #not sorry for posting abt this show a bunch #i wish id watched it sooner #end of ep 6! #bawling my eyes out!

[iheartjameshetfield]

I literally moaned out loud when i saw that request about virgin!james eating pussy for the first time,

but now i need virgin!dave eating pussy for the first time, LIKE I KNOWWWW HE WOULD GO CRAZY 🤭🤭🤭🤭

FINALLY A DAVE REQ, I WISH ID SEEN IT SOONER 😭

this man…THIS MANNNN

i feel like he’d be the type to just do whatever he wants, not needing you to guide him

he’d lay between your thighs, splitting your legs open to access your dripping cunt, drool spilling from his mouth. experimentally, he’d use his fingers to spread your folds, licking between them. he feels you shudder underneath his tongue so he repeats his actions, his tongue moving back and forth.

he starts getting more confident burying his nose in your heat and he brings his fingers to pump your cunt. he moves his tongue upwards to start lapping up at your clit as he buries his fingers as deep as he can, moaning into you

suddenly, he pulls away, panting as his chest visibly moves up and down. you admire the slick and wetness covering his nose and lips, but you barely have the time to praise him when he suddenly pushes your thighs upwards, giving him more access to your cunt

he starts nosing at your entrance, tongue sticking out to gather your wetness as he sloppily makes out with your pussy

“yes dave, like that. ohh, so good for me” you whine, you hands finding their way to his hair

he pulls out his fingers so that he could brace himself, pushing your thighs against your chest as much as it can go. you grind onto his face, moaning out obscenities as dave moves his tongue in every direction possible

with every tug of his hair, he feels himself twitching in his boxers, causing him to grunt into your heat.

“fuck yes, makin me feel so good, yeah. ohhh gonna make me cum so hard, good boy”

he couldn’t help but start rutting into the mattress as he sucks onto your clit. small whimpers and whines come out of his lips and directly into your cunt as he can barely take his breath, just wanting to watch you cum all over his face.

you grip his hair a little harder as you push down onto him, moaning his name as if it were the only thing you know as your vision starts to blur

“fuck fuck, i’m cumming, ohhh”

you use the grip on his hair to bury dave’s face into your cunt as you start to cum in hot spurts. he was taken by surprise from this action, causing him to quickly pull away

his eyes bulge out when he sees the sticky substance falling from your swollen pussy, legs trembling from the pleasure. he quickly delves back into your cunt, lapping you at your folds and clit, gathering all the cum spilling out of you, causing you to close your legs around his head. he sucks at you while you calm down from your high, his groans of pleasure vibrating through you as you stroke his hair, calming down

“yes! yes dave justtt like that, oh god”

when he’s cleaned you up, he pulls away, making you admire his cum-covered face. he wipes the slick from his nose and lips before laying down on his stomach again, resting his face on your plush thigh covered with your slick, one of his hands clutching your thigh for leverage

he humps into the mattress, feeling himself twitch as he inhales the scent of you. high pitched whines fell from his lips as his hand reached down to palm himself, his cock twitching underneath his touch

“please..” he whines “can i cum?”

how could you deny a request like that when his glossy eyes are peering at you through his lashes, soft pants falling from his lips

“yes baby, of course you can” you continue stroking his hair as he shifts his body to the side, pulling out his throbbing red cock from his boxers. he palms the tip before stroking himself at a fast speed, reaching for his release.

little ‘ah ah ah’s were falling from his plush lips, his thighs trembling and body shaking when he finally cums, emptying his load onto the bedsheets

“so so pretty” you beam, watching his chest rising and falling again, his hips stuttering from the aftershocks

“thank you” he sighs, his eyes fluttering shut, brining his hand back up to rest next to his head, not caring if his cum smears across your thigh

SEND MORE DAVE REQS IM BEGGING

#VIRGIN DAVE MY BELOVED #HE SO #AHHHHH #i want him #i NEED him #dave please one chance #dave mustaine #dave mustaine smut #megadeth #megadeth smut #metallica #metallica smut

[honkytonk-hangman]

Meet You All The Way

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x OC/Reader

Summary: Now that they have reconciled, Rooster struggles to figure out the right way to tell Maverick that he has a family all of his own now.

(Or, how Rooster comes to terms with the fact he wants Maverick to be apart of his family again, but leaves it until they both almost die to actually do anythign about it.)

Warnings: DAD!ROOSTER!!!!!! and idk maybe some language? Mav being sad :( unplanned pregnancy, not much else i think, but i repeat: dad!rooster!!!

Words: 11k!!!!!!!!!!

Masterlist

Rooster should feel good.

No, Rooster should feel great.

He had, for a while at least. In the hours immediately following their impossible return from what should have been the end for both of them, Rooster and Maverick had been granted a mercifully short debrief, and then like Mav had promised, they’d talked.

It had occurred to Bradley halfway through their reconciliation, just how long it had been, almost a full eighteen years, and how it was only then, after the last of his anger was finally let go, that he realised how much it had been weighing him down.

The lightness he feels in the wake of his forgiveness is short-lived, though, as they begin both reminiscing on their lives over the past eighteen years, their careers, sharing stories and various anecdotes they would have otherwise known if not for the rift between them.

Unlike the weight of his anger, the weight of Bradley’s guilt makes itself known right away. If Mav notices sooner, he doesn’t let on, and if it were anything else, Rooster might’ve appreciated the space, but now he just wishes the other man would bring it up, take the difficult part out of his own hands. He doesn’t, though, but six days into their post-mission leave, he does begin to let on that he knew something was up.

But enough was enough now, so Bradley steals himself, and does what he should have done from the moment they’d found one another again.

“Mav, there’s something I need to talk to you about…” he avoids visibly wincing at his own words, but doesn’t miss the downward slope of his adoptive uncle’s mouth, despite the reassuringly calm expression he wears. He doesn’t speak, but he does place his wrench down and turn to face the younger man as he wipes off his hands.

“I…” Rooster starts, but his voice cuts off without his full permission, and he drops his gaze. How was he supposed to do this? It wasn’t as if there were a guidebook he could buy. Rooster’s eyes catch on something to his left then, Mav’s photo board, his eyes lingering on one of the many pictures of his father that hung there.

He sends a quick ‘thanks, dad’ out into the universe, and turns his head back to the man in front of him, pushing off the bench he was leaning against so that he can dig his wallet out of his back pocket. It takes a bit of work to wriggle one of the small 2x3 photographs out from behind the worn plastic covering meant to display his ID, and takes a short moment to appreciate the image for himself before he looks back to Maverick.

“Here,” he says, watching as Mav pauses momentarily, before throwing down the rag he holds and carefully plucking the photograph from between his fingers. Rooster can’t help but bounce his knee slightly as he settles back against the bench, watching as Maverick’s eyes flicker over the photo seemingly inch by inch, taking in each detail closely.

At last, he looks up, lips pulled into an easy smile.

“She’s beautiful,” he says warmly, holding the page out again, and Bradley takes it without much thought, sliding it back into place while he nods.

“She is. Smarter than I’ll ever be, too,” he adds, his own features unable to hold back any longer from breaking into a full, soppy grin. Mav chuckles and tilts his head in understanding.

“Doctor Rosanna Lamb,” he says almost to himself, always in disbelief how he’d gotten so lucky. Mav whistles lowly.

“Where’s she stationed?” he asks, referencing the matching Navy uniforms you’d both been wearing in the photo, and settles himself against the side of the Mustang they’d previously both been working on.

“She’s a surgeon, so they’re generally happy to station us together. She put in a request for North Island a couple of days ago, after I told her about the new squadron they’re forming for us here,” Rooster tells him, pausing briefly before adding; “She’ll be here next week.”

Maverick smiles at him, and pushes off the plane, pulling Bradley in toward him, and giving his back a gentle smack as they embrace.

“I’m happy for you, Bradley, I really am,” he says after pulling away again, but still holding onto the younger man’s shoulders. He gives him a tight squeeze and releases him.

“I’ll have to take the two of you to dinner when she’s settled,” Mav states, and without much thought to it, Rooster hums noncommittally.

“Maybe.”

Mav raises an eyebrow in amusement, and cocks his head playfully.

“What? Not ready for her to meet the family?” he jokes. Rooster chortles, and shakes his head.

“It depends more on if Amelia is up for babysitting.”

Bradley can feel the moment his heartbeat spikes, watches intently as Maverick blinks in confusion, processing the words carefully as he does. Bradley flips open his wallet again, and this time he pulls out a different photo, bigger than the 2x3 one, and he unfolds it, smooths it out, before slowly handing it over.

Maverick cautiously takes it, his expression still pulled into a frown, but his sharp intake of breath is audible. He’s barely glanced at the photo before his eyes flicker back to Rooster, and then down again. He brings the picture closer, swallows thickly as he stares down at it silently. When Rooster can see his eyes have begun turning a little red, he clears his throat.

“His name is Nick. That one’s a little old, he’s nearly five now but it’s still one of my favourites,” Rooster smiles as Maverick finally tears his eyes away, holding his gaze with what the younger man can only describe as pure remorse.

“Nick,” Mav repeats, voice a little croaky, and Rooster nods.

“We usually just call him Goose.”

That makes the older man chuckle, and despite the melancholic look he still wears, he glances back down to the boy in the photo, dressed up as Luke Skywalker in his iconic orange flight suit two Halloween’s ago. Rooster had gone as Han Solo, and you as Leia of course.

“Yeah, he looks like a Goose,” Mav agrees, before the sadness finally begins to fade from his eyes, turning into nothing but pure adoration. He moves to hand the picture back then, but Rooster shakes his head, before gesturing to the photo wall.

“You keep it.” He tells him, lips twitching with a smile at the total lack of argument that comes from the other man, who immediately draws the photograph near again, subconsciously holding it to his heart.

Eventually, once Mav can be convinced to part with the photo, Rooster watching him fuss with his photo wall for almost fifteen minutes until the newest addition is front and centre, he pulls Rooster back in for a tight hug. He doesn’t let go so soon this time.

“He’s beautiful, Bradley.”

—

“Babe, I’m so happy for you, I bet you feel so much lighter,” your voice crackles over the speaker on Rooster’s phone, and he can hear the soft smile in your voice. He nods, even though you can’t see him.

“Yeah. I do. I really do.” he sighs contently, and curls an arm under his head. Some shuffling on the other end, your voice muffled, and then more clearly, you let out an exasperated sigh of your own.

“I swear to god, it’s like he has a sixth sense for when you’re on the phone… Come on, Goose, say hello to daddy…”

Rooster perks up, only briefly checking the time before his full attention is on the sleepy little voice that calls out down the line.

“Hi daddy!” The five-year-old had clearly been asleep until recently, his voice excited, but a little droopy still.

“Heya, Goose, how’re you doing, pal? Are you getting excited for the big move?” Rooster feels bad he isn’t able to head back even for a few days to help you organise everything, but he also knows you were more than capable and more than prepared, had this sort of thing down to a T by now.

“Uh-huh! Can’t wait to see you daddy! Mommy said there’s gonna be a beach, and lots of planes, and–” Goose’s voice cuts off for a moment as you say something inaudible to him, but he’s back before Rooster can comment.

“And she said Uncle Jake is with you!”

Rooster’s eyes narrow and he glares, but only because neither of you are able to see him.

“You don’t have an Uncle Jake,” he grumbles, going completely ignored as Goose continues to talk about all the things he was excited for in California. When the boy is done listing things, Rooster clears his throat a little.

“Are you excited to meet your Grandpa Mav?” He feels a nervousness at the question, unsure if the boy would remember the name you and he had given his adoptive uncle when they’d spent an evening going through his mom’s photo albums, so that Goose could see the man he was named for.

“Uh-huh! Mommy said he put my picture on his wall!” Goose preens. Rooster chuckles and realises you must have shown him the photo he’d snapped earlier, of the newest photograph that had pride of place at the centre of the collage.

“He did, he was very particular about making sure he could always see it,” he hears his son giggle down the line, and the sound makes every bit of hardship he’d ever endured worth it. He’d go through a hundred times worse if it meant he could hear it everyday.

“It’s okay honey, you can close your eyes,” he hears you coo, can picture the way Goose is sleepily blinking, struggling to keep his head off your pillow.

“He’s dropping off again, Roo, say goodnight while he can hear you.”

“Goodnight buddy, I love you so much.”

“Love you too, daddy.”

You talk for only a short while longer, before you too head to sleep, and Bradley finds himself grinning up at his ceiling, his heart thumping rapidly, excitement building in his chest as he mentally begins to count down the days until he has you both in his arms once more.

SIX YEARS EARLIER

The music in the club is loud enough that you can feel it in your bones. You’re almost tempted to make everyone go to an audiologist in the morning, but you figure you were already the acting buzzkill of the group, you didn’t need to be a nagger too.

You weren’t always this crotchety when you went out with your friends, usually if you were at your local bar, you had no trouble letting loose and winding down, but you weren’t at the Hard 

Deck right now.  No, tonight you had followed your friends and colleagues out to one club, and then another. Gone were your comfortable jeans and sneakers, or even your uniform, instead you were currently wearing heels that were only just on the right side of comfortable, and a dress that made you feel pretty.

It was rare any of you got away from base long enough to put on something nice, and even rarer that you weren’t wearing medical scrubs or khaki, so your friends were busy making the best of it. You had elected to be designated driver, or designated uber caller, knowing you’d probably not be able to relax anyway, given how tipsy some of your friends were getting, and how anxious the clubbing scene made you.

You were only slightly appeased by a friendly group of men that had joined you just after you’d arrived, they all seemed nice and respectful enough, but you couldn’t help still keeping your eyes on where several of them dance, intermingled with your friends.

Movement to your left almost makes you jump, and although you’d hoped the dark lighting would conceal your surprise, the apologetic smile sent your way tells you it hadn’t. You’re joined at the table you’d found by one of the men now part of your group, the tallest one, with a moustache you honestly wouldn’t have thought anyone could pull off as well as he definitely is managing to do.

You hadn’t really spoken much to any of the men, happy to listen and let your friends get their flirt on, but you had to admit this one was kinda cute.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” he says, taking a seat at your left, though he frowns and quickly pulls a small clutch purse from where it had clearly almost been flattened even further, and places it on the table.

“I was just distracted,” you say with a shake of your head, and turn back to the dance floor, not wanting to stare at him. You couldn’t quite tell the colour of his eyes in the dim lighting, but they were oddly hypnotic, big and soulful. He settles in with a fresh beer, and you figure he mustn’t be the dancing type.

“Yeah? How's the overwatch going?” he asks, and you glance back at him, lip quirking now.

“It’d be better if they stopped disappearing into the crowd,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. The man cracks a smile, and you have to blink away from the brightness of it.

“I’m Rooster, by the way,” he offers out a hand, and you think it might be the first and only time anybody had ever shaken hands inside this club. “Rooster?” you question.

“It’s my callsign,” he tells you, sipping his beer, and looking like he’s about to explain to you what a callsign is, but you cut him off.

“Wait, you’re an aviator?” you ask, a little surprised, but it turns into wry amusement and you shake your head.

“Of course you are,” you chortle, mostly to yourself as you cast your eyes back to your friends and their partners on the dance floor.

Rooster’s brows dip and he leans forward a little, looking quite concerned, but once more, you speak before he can.

“My friends and I, we’re all part of the Medical Corps.” you inform him, and watch recognition turn into his own amusement.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around North Island,” he says, making you laugh again.

“It’s a big place. And unless you’re regularly getting surgeries, I don’t think you would.”

“You’re a surgeon?” Rooster asks, his eyes flashing with intrigue, and his expression turning impressed. You duck your head a little, but then stop yourself. You weren’t on a blind date with one of your friend’s friends. You didn’t need to make yourself smaller for this man. After all, he was a Naval Aviator, if anybody would understand having a job that required intense skill, he might.

“Yeah,” you nod, before cocking your head. “You guys heading out on the carrier?”

“No, we’re here for Top Gun. Just graduated,” Rooster tells you, clearly proud, and from what you know, he had every right to be.

“Oh, Wow! Congratulations,” you offer genuinely, tipping your water at him. Rooster leans over and taps his beer with your glass, before finishing it. Even though he doesn’t break eye contact with you as he drinks, you get the distinct feeling of being eye-fucked and you’re once again glad for the low lights, your face growing hot at the thought of what he might possible be imagining right now.

Okay, he was definitely more than just cute.

Rooster, much like yourself, is his group's designated driver, and after moving your chairs a little closer so you could talk without yelling, and his arm finds its way slung over the back of yours, his fingers brushing up your shoulder every so often as he talks. It seems to be natural that eventually he offers to drive both of your groups back to base.

You weren’t normally the kind of person to just roll with these sorts of punches, after all, you were a surgeon and in the Navy. You had a certain amount of discipline instilled in you… But Rooster was absolutely your type, and you got the feeling that regardless of your mutual attraction to one another, considering how your friends were liberally mixing with his, he would have offered anyway.

The ride back to base is filled with a heady tension, even as your friends drunkenly chatter in the backseats. Rooster had given a not-so-subtle glare at his friend who tried to call shotgun as you were leaving the club, and you find yourself once more seated beside him, only this time, his hand ends up wrapped around your mid-thigh, squeezing every so often as you both engage with the conversation.

By the time you’re dropping both your friends and Rooster’s at the nearest entrance to the on-base housing, you have excitement settling into your stomach and your own hand covering his on your thigh.

“Make sure you drink some water before you sleep! And lay out some pills for the morning!” you call out to your friends as they file out the back of the blue Bronco, most waving you off, only Jess turning back to you as she fumbles with her seatbelt, aided by her now-companion, a darker haired man you didn’t get the name of. “Thank you Doctor Lamb,” she sing-songs playfully with a smile and a roll of her eyes, but you don’t get to reply before she’s jumping out of the car, giggling as her new friend follows her, his hands magnetic to her waist.

The door shuts with a slam and a light smack. You turn back to Rooster, who is already looking at you intently, his eyes roaming your features, somewhere between amusement and fondness.

“Lamb? I bet that gets old on the mouth of sailors,” he says, briefly pulling his hand from yours to adjust his gearstick, and he begins to slowly exit the parking lot.

“Only some,” you laugh, but take a questioning glance at your moving surroundings. “Where are we going?”

Rooster jumps a little, as if he hadn’t realised he’d been driving at all, and the car starts to slow slightly, before it leaves the base entirely.

“Shit, sorry, I live off base, I didn’t even– I just assumed– Shit–” Rooster’s panic is a little adorable, his eyes wide and his voice sincere. You chortle, and place your hand on his leg this time, to let him know you weren’t offended.

“It’s alright.” you tell him, giving his leg a squeeze. Rooster seems to relax some, and shoots you a tight, but bashful smile, even as he wraps his fingers around yours again.

“I just want to hang out with you some more,” he seems almost embarrassed to admit, but tightens his grip on your fingers anyway. You can’t help but smile wider, which spurs on his own, and soon you’re laughing again, giggling in a girlish way that you’re fairly certain you haven’t let loose in years.

You wind up back in Rooster’s house, both of you sat at the rickety old piano he says was passed down to him from his parents. He plays absently, lazily as you both talk, until you raise a hand and begin tapping out a few notes of your own.

Rooster smiles at you, looking between your fingers and your face, and seems to lean in closer.

“You could have said you played, instead of listening to me wreck the keys for the past hour,” he says, nudging your shoulder. You almost instantly drop your hands from the piano and shake your head at him.

“I don’t! Really, I just know the notes… back in med school I used to do this memory association game with my exam notes and piano keys…” you slowly begin playing the very small amount that you know, and after a few moments, Rooster joins you, copying each note after you play it.

You shrug at him, and lift your hand to rest it on his forearm instead.

“Then, when I was sitting my exams, I just needed to tap my fingers on the desk, and it’d jog my memory,” you demonstrate, tapping out a few silent keys on his thick, tanned arm. Rooster grins, nodding as he looks away from you, taking the tune with him as he seems to play randomly. You stay listening for a moment, feeling the muscles in his arms tense and move with each stroke, and you find yourself lost in the feeling for several moments, until he swings his head back in your direction, and you blink up at him, realising he’d been talking.

Rooster chuckles, and stops playing long enough to rest his hand on your thigh again.

“What is ‘Rosie’ short for?” he asks again, cocking his head slightly. Your lip quirks at the fond warmth in his voice. This certainly wasn’t the sort of attention you were used to from apparent one night stands, who could barely care enough to find out your name let alone what it was short for.

“Rosanna,” you tell him, and to your own ears it almost sounds strange. You can’t remember the last time somebody called you Rosanna, you barely even used it in an official capacity if you could get away with it. Rooster shifts and seems pleased with the revelation, his head cocking again and his eyes lighting up.

“Rosanna? Like the Toto song?” he asks, making you laugh. You nod and can’t help but feel your stomach twist and your heart speed up when he starts to tap out the song’s main melody. You have to bite your lip as he continues, and you lean into his side, smiling up at him as he meets your gaze.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you ask, feeling your pulse get even quicker. Rooster nods, but doesn’t stop playing and you wait for a moment, wondering if you were really about to tell this virtual stranger one of the more embarrassing things about you. You decide to go for it though. For some reason, you think he, more than anyone else you’ve ever met, might understand.

“When I was a little girl, my dad used to play this song all the time. I used to think it was written for me. I used to ask him to play ‘my song’,” you say quietly, offering a soft chuckle when Rooster doesn’t immediately respond. You peek up at him a little nervously when his playing trails off, only to find him staring down at you in what you can only describe as sheer adoration. It makes your face grow hot and your already twisting stomach begins to fill with butterflies.

After a few seconds, he starts to play again, not as slow or lazily this time, properly, but he still gazes down at you.

“That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard, honey,” he says to you, smiling softly to himself. You’re about to respond, but he opens his mouth again, startling you slightly as he begins to sing the opening lines of the song.

Rooster’s voice is deep, gravelly, but suits singing well, and a part of you wonders why he never pursued performing instead of flying. The other part of you quickly forgets this line of thought as he continues to serenade you with the rest of the song, right up until the second chorus, when you place your hand over his, interrupting his playing, and catching his attention again properly.

When you kiss him, not bothering with starting slow or easy, and skipping straight to deep and full, Rooster kisses you back instantly, hands dropping from the piano keys right away to find purchase on your body. It takes little effort for him to pull you into his lap.

After that you leave the piano stool altogether, transferring to the far comfier mattress in his bedroom, and you don’t leave it for the rest of the night.

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Rooster?”

Your voice down the line is like a shock to his system, as though he’s just had a bucket of cold water thrown over him.

“Rosie?!” Rooster winces even as he asks. He already knows that it's you, he’d recognise your voice anywhere, even if he hasn’t heard it in over two months. Your quiet chuckle down the line goes someway to relax him, even if he’s now dealing with the crushing guilt that this call brings.

“Hey pretty girl,” he adds after a moment, feeling himself fall easily back into the comfort he’d felt when talking to you all those weeks ago now. When you’d first met at the club, you’d asked if he was going to ship off soon, and he’d told you no, but he should have known better, should have known the Navy wouldn't've kept him around in North Island for long.

“You didn’t call,” he can practically hear your faux pout, and relaxes himself back into his cot, glad his bunkmate won’t be back for another hour or so. Rooster reaches up and plucks a piece of paper that had been tucked into the wire above his bed, gazing almost lovingly at the illegible scrawl.

“Couldn’t, honey. You’ve got typical doctor’s handwriting. I’m looking at the note you left me right now and I’ve been trying to decode it for weeks,” he tells you with a smile, glad to hear your playful scoff on the other end as you quietly curse him (or yourself) out.

A thought strikes him then.

“How’d you get my number?” he asks, tucking the keepsake chicken scratch back into the wire over his bunk.

“Oh, ah, you know how I’m doing my flight surgeon quals?” you ask, and he hums even though he hadn’t known at all.

“Well, one of my charges, he’s an aviator too, we became friends and were talking and you came up and he said he knew you, so he gave me your number cause I said that I really needed to talk to you…” your voice rattles off in a frenzied manner, and Rooster is too caught up on the rising panic you give off to wonder about which one of his friends you had run into.

“Hey, is everything okay? Calm down for me sweetheart,” Rooster sits up a little, and tries to exude some comfort through the phone. He’s glad it seems to work, because he can hear you taking several deep, slow breaths while he waits for you. In fact, he waits so long that he’s about to talk again when you suddenly cut him off.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words hang thick in the air, and it takes Rooster a moment before he is able to properly process them at all, his chest lurching and his stomach flipping when he finally does.

Once more though, before he can speak, you’re off, hurriedly talking again.

“I had a medical this morning and I’m already twelve weeks. I haven’t slept with anybody else so it’s definitely yours, and I don’t know, I guess I just wanted to let you know…”

Rooster goes over the information in his head, taking a moment to calm himself as you clearly wait for his reply this time.

“How do you feel?” he asks you, hoping that over the phone his tone wouldn’t give you anything more to stress about. He hears you laugh a little then, though it’s nervous and a little watery. It makes him wish he were with you for this conversation, able to pull you in close and wrap you up.

“I feel okay, I guess. It’s moved some stuff up in my game plan, but hey, things change right?” You sound shaky, but there is resilience in your voice that tells him you mean it. That steadfastness is likely the reason you’d toughed it out through med school and became a surgeon. It goes quite a way to soothe his own nerves.

“How are you feeling?” you ask a moment later, and Rooster almost laughs at your concern, but he appreciates it too much to do so.

“Surprised,” he says, hesitating slightly before he continues. “A little excited, if I’m honest.” he speaks carefully.

“Yeah?” your voice sounds soft and small and Rooster dislikes the lack of certainty in you.

“Yeah.” he assures you, listening to you titter about on the other end, clearly fidgeting with something.

“I don’t really know what to do…” you tell him, sounding more relieved now, more like yourself. Rooster lets out a sigh and squints up at your illegible note, thinking back on just how much he’d been thinking of you these past months.

“I really, really like you. Haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since I left… I know it’s not ideal, but I want to do this with you, if you want me there,” Rooster hears his pulse racing in his ears as he speaks. It feels silly to get nervous now, he’d been day dreaming about running away with you since his second day on the carrier. On the other end of the line you let out a soft little laugh, making him smile at the sound.

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot too,” you reply sweetly, before hurrying to clarify; “Before I found out, I mean…”

Rooster chortles and switches the ear his phone is pressed to.

“I’ll look at the paperwork then?” you suggest carefully, making him nod, even though you can’t see him.

“Send anything you need me to sign through the official channels.” he confirms with you, but softens his tone after a moment. “I want you to go over to my place when you get a chance. There's a key under the pot plant. You remember that keepsake box on top of the piano? There’s a ring in there… It belonged to my mom. I want you to have it.”

There isn’t much time for you to argue with him about it, almost as soon as the words leave his mouth, there’s an Ensign at his cabin door, and he’s hurriedly apologising to you before he’s forced to hang up.

For a few days Rooster’s head is in limbo.

Butterflies have taken up a post in his stomach, bursting forth any time he thinks of you, or of his kid, and everything that the future is going to bring. It makes him think hard about a lot of things; money, his house and the feat that would be babyproofing it, you with his moms ring, a wedding…

More than anything else though, it makes him think of Mav.

Anger boils inside him each time the thought arises, but it quickly settles into some kind of guilt in the pit of his stomach, before he snaps and tells himself he has nothing to feel guilty over. He didn’t owe Mav any part of his life.

In fact, you and this baby gave him the perfect opportunity to move forward at last with his life, to stop being haunted by the past. He had something to focus on now, something to be other than who he once was.

Two weeks later Rooster finds himself frowning down at a text on his phone, his brain rapidly attempting to connect all the dots and figure out just what the hell he was looking at.

Hangman: I’ll have you know, I’ll be referring to you as ‘Hen’ from now on :)

Hangman: Congrats by the way. It’s about time you settled down, old man.

Hangman: Also, don’t be worrying about Dr Lamb. I’m local to her for the foreseeable future, I’ll be around if she needs anything while you’re away.

Rooster: How do you know Rosie???

Hangman: Was roped into taking part in flight surgery qualifications while my squad’s on maintenance.

Hangman: She’s too good for you.

Rooster: I know. Thanks for having her back. I appreciate it a lot.

Hangman: I’m not doing it for you, Bradshaw. Lamb’s a friend. 

Hangman: Besides, I gotta get in good and early if I’m going to be Uncle Jake :)

Rooster: Absolutely not.

Hangman: Suffer :)

SEVEN MONTHS LATER

“Hey there little man! Look at you! There you are!” Rooster swallows the lump in his throat as he stares down at his son, totally and completely captivated. It had been almost twelve hours already since he’d come screaming into the world, and Rooster isn't sure the intensity of his love for him will ever dull.

He’s got the tiny baby against his chest, one hand behind his head for support, and the rest of his arm cradling him close to him as he bounces gently, pacing slowly back and forth across the small hospital room. You sit comfortably in your hospital bed watching him, and Rooster can tell just from your expression that you feel the same way as him right now.

“What are we gonna name him, baby?” you ask after a few more minutes of serenity. The two of you hadn’t really discussed names yet, with Rooster only having returned from sea a week and a half ago, and with all the other organisation that needed to happen before your son’s arrival, it just hadn’t come up.

“Something with song lyrics,” Rooster replies playfully, shooting you a grin. “How about… Fernando? Or Jude?” he suggests, directing his questions mostly at the baby who gargles up at him, his sweetly wrinkly little newborn face the cutest he’s ever seen.

You snort and shake your head.

“No. Veeto.” you say with a scoff, and Rooster laughs gently, so he doesn’t disturb his baby too much. Slowly he moves back to your side, carefully settling on the edge of your bed, and shifting his son to lay in his arms instead. Rooster isn’t even really thinking about names, too lost in admiring his little guy when you clear your throat and speak again.

“I’ve been thinking… What if we called him Nick…?” your voice is quiet, nervous almost, but you’re watching him intently when his gaze falls on you. Rooster blinks at you, feeling the lump in his throat return and he does his best to swallow it down again, but it seems determined to stay this time.

“Nick?” he asks, voice cracking slightly, and you nod. You stay quiet as Rooster looks back down at your son, drawing him close again as he runs a finger over the top of his dark crop of hair.

“Are you a Nick, little man?” He asks softly, rocking the baby slightly. “Are you our Goose? Our Baby Goose?” he asks, feeling the way his voice shakes as he speaks the words.

As if he could understand every word, the baby in his arms begins to fuss, though not cry, and he stretches up with his tiny little fingers. Rooster offers out his own finger, lets his son wrap his fist around his pointer, and he knows it’s nothing but coincidence, but in that moment he feels like he’s receiving some kind of blessing. Your hand appears blurry in his vision, and you curl your pink in with his own, the three of you tethered now, and its then Rooster realises he’s blinking back tears.

Looking up at you, he struggles for words, but finds he doesn’t need them as you lean forward to wipe his eyes with your sleeve, your own eyes a little red and wet.

“I think he likes it, honey.” you tell him, and Rooster can only nod, and you both turn back to stare lovingly at your Goose.

The peace lasts approximately half a day more before you receive your first visitor.

Rooster looks up at the light knock on the door to your room, and he’s not too proud to admit he frowns when he first sees who it is.

“Hangman?”

“Jake!”

Both you and Rooster let out your exclamations at the exact same time, and the man in question takes that as his invitation. Hangman saunters into the room, grinning widely and looking at you. He’s all done up in his dress whites, a large colourful gift bag in one hand, and a similarly large box under his arm, a large sparkly bow wrapped over its top.

“I thought you were in–” once again, both you and Rooster start speaking at the exact same time, and you’re both cut off by Hangman waving a hand flippantly.

“I pulled some strings, just be grateful,” he tells you playfully, before placing both the bag and the box at the foot of your bed, and leaning down to carefully give you a short hug.

Rooster has to purse his lips some, mostly because when Hangman had told him months ago that you were a friend, he hadn’t really considered it much. He knows the man had been there for you early on in your pregnancy, before he’d gotten sent away, but for some reason, he hadn’t really thought the two of you were actually friends.

“Thank you, but you shouldn't have…” you shake your head at him, even as he whirls around, straightening his coat as his eyes land on Rooster, and subsequently, Goose.

“Alright, let me meet the little tyke,” Hangman is across the room in mere seconds, back straight and his demeanour formal, like he were on parade, or an admiral had just entered the room. 

Rooster stands to greet him, though is a little bamboozled when the blond holds his hands out.

“Good to see you, baby daddy.” Hangman nods, his voice serious despite the nickname. He wiggles his hands to motion for Rooster to hurry up. For a moment, Rooster can’t help but clutch his baby even tighter to his chest.

“Do you know how to hold a baby, Hangman?”

He receives an eye roll of near epic proportions in reply.

“I’ve held more babies than you have, old man. Come on, lemme hold my nephew.” Hangman’s words throw Rooster off for just long enough that he blindly lets him transfer Goose out of his arms and into his own.

Rooster grumbles when he watches how Hangman seems to expertly manoeuvre and handle the baby. He makes a note to ask about how many babies he’d had to hold later. It wasn’t exactly something that appeared like a natural trait for the otherwise cocky, brash and reckless aviator. Instead, Rooster crosses his arms firmly over her chest and eyes Hangman wearily.

“You are not his Uncle.” he says flatly, before giving you the same eye, leaning around the now distracted blond. You pout and cock your head some.

“I think it’s cute!” You argue, but Rooster is already shaking his head.

“No. Veeto.” he mimics your words from earlier, but you only proceed to cross your own arms over your chest.

“Too bad, daddy, I’ve earned it.” Hangman announces, and Rooster glares back at him, watching him bounce Goose in a manner even he has to admit is sort of sweet to watch.

“No.” Rooster reiterates, but even he can feel it’s slightly weaker now. You aren’t even looking back at him anymore, you’re watching where Hangman has lifted the baby up slightly, and he points over to you, speaking softly.

“Did you Mama give you a normal name? I told her we’d have problems if she decided to go with something as stupid as Bradley Bradshaw,” Hangman asks Goose, but the question is directed at you.

“His name is Nick. After Brad’s dad.” You inform him, sobering a little. Hangman repeats the name, bouncing Nick a little more as he does.

“Honestly though, we’ve been calling him Goose since we decided.” You continue, smiling softly as Hangman walks your baby back towards you. Rooster frowns again, feeling a little jealous and annoyed that he didn’t get to hold his baby again, but even as the blond places him into your arms, you’re looking up at him and gesturing for your husband to come collect him again. You’d been holding him practically all night, not only were your arms dead sore, but you understood Rooster’s desire to be near his son if he could help it.

Rooster comes over and collects Goose, bundling him up against his chest again and shushing him as he fusses at all the movement. Hangman watches him with a slight smirk, but cocks his head and gives his head a slight shake.

“Goose is nice. Keeps up the bird theming you got going on.” Is all he says, before he’s turning back to you, stepping around Rooster to grab the packages from the end of the bed.

“The bag is just a little something for Nicky-boy, from his uncle Jake,” he trails off as you peek inside, and then pulls out a plush Donald Duck almost as big as Goose himself, and dressed like an old-timey aviator.

"Not his uncle." Rooster says again, almost out of resolve now as he looks at the gift. So far, Hangman was actually making a half decent definitely-not-uncle...

“Oh Jake, that's so sweet, thank you!” you gush, holding out the toy immediately for Rooster to take, and for a moment you all watch as he gently introduces the plush to where Goose shuffles and fusses. Almost on queue, when the teddy is within reach, he grabs it by the head as best as his little hands can and tugs it near. Rooster adjusts it, so none of the little bits are anywhere near a mouth or eye, but even he can’t help but grin down at the clear acceptance and approval his son radiates.

“This is from Phoenix. Said it’s a bunch of self-care stuff. I don’t know. Call her.” Hangman shrugs unhelpfully as you lift the lid on the box, and begin looking inside. You preen and ask the blond to pass you your phone, where you seemingly shoot off a text to your other aviator friend, and Rooster forces himself to come to terms with the fact he’s missed a lot while away, even if he feels on the same page when it comes to you in most other aspects.

Hangman stays for a short while, but has to leave almost as soon as he’d arrived to catch a flight back to his posting. Rooster makes another note to call him later, thank him properly, even if it's something he dreads doing simply for the smugness he’s sure to receive alone.

When the evening rolls around, Rooster helps you with everything you need while you feed Goose, helps you wipe your face, and adjusts pillows and blankets around you, before he finally suggests you try to get some sleep before the next meal time. You barely argue, your eyes already fluttering shut, and Rooster collects Goose up, burping him and changing him before he decides the two of them will take a nice little walk.

Rooster hadn’t really had a plan or a direction in mind when he’d begun slowly moving down the now-quiet hospital halls. You’d been moved out of the main maternity ward earlier, and into a private room in a quieter part of the hospital, thanks to your healthcare and pre-planning with the hospital. Considering all of the staff worked with you, it hadn’t been hard for them to arrange a nicer room for you post-birth.

Rooster bounces Goose gently as he walks, curiously peeking in at the empty or occupied rooms as he passes, noting that most patients appeared to be older folk. He’s humming softly under his breath when he glances in at an open door, only to stop dead in his tracks.

Rooster feels his heart skip a beat, and then thump wildly against his ribcage, so wild in fact he has to look down at his baby briefly to make sure he isn’t being disturbed by it. Goose sleeps soundly though, and quickly, Rooster finds himself peering back into the room he’d come to a stop outside of, his feet drawing him slightly closer, though keeping back enough he wasn’t fully visible to the person inside.

He feels like he’s seen a ghost, almost, but just as he starts to come back to himself, he’s hit with a whole new panic.

Why was Admiral Kazansky, his once ‘Uncle Ice’ in the hospital?

Before Rooster can begin to come up with some answer, or rationalisation, an all too familiar voice calls out, and suddenly he feels like he’s twelve again, peeking around the office door of Uncle Ice, hoping to get some of those butterscotch candies he kept in his top draw once the older man noticed him.

“Is there something I can help you with?” Ice asks, and from where Rooster is peeking in, he can see the now grey-haired man shifting to try and see who was at his door. For a moment Rooster considers running, just clutching his son to his chest and speed walking away, but for a reason he’s not entirely sure of, he doesn’t.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you, Admiral…” He hears his own voice rasp out, conscious of his arms gently moving Goose to a less visible position. At the sound of his voice, Ice straightens up and pulls his reading glasses off, squinting at Rooster as he steps in just slightly, though still lingering by the door.

“Bradley?!” Ice asks, a grin breaking out across his face as he takes the younger man in. He hadn't seen Ice in almost as many years as he hadn’t seen Maverick. “Get in here!” the older man all but orders, getsuring him forward all the while pushing himself up to a seated position, fiddling briefly with the buttons on his bed control.

“I’m sorry to drop in like this, I was just passing and I saw you–”

“Don’t even finish that apology, Bradshaw, just get in and sit down.” Ice says a little firmer, and Rooster feels himself compelled to obey. Gingerly, he thanks the universe for the older man’s distractedness as he steps fully into the room and toward the seat by his bedside, unsure when exactly or if at all he should mention the baby cradled in his arms.

Just as he’s figuring out some kind of explanation, Ice looks up at him, and despite his features having aged significantly since they last saw one another, his eyes are sharp as ever, piercing as he scans Rooster’s face, before they quickly drop down, and he’s taking in the sleeping bundle in his arms.

“Oh…!” Ice’s voice has a hush to it now despite his apparent surprise, his gaze flickering back up to meet Rooster’s, seemingly looking at him in a new light now.

“Oh, Brad…” There’s a softness underlining his words now, and a warmth that nearly makes Rooster start to tear up.

Instead of crying, though, Rooster distracts himself by adjusting the baby in his arms, shuffling so that Ice can get a better look at him, shocking himself slightly when he doesn’t even hesitate to hand him over when Ice silently asks to hold him.

Rooster helps get him situated, and quietly sits back down again, watching as his Uncle Ice cradles his son, cooing softly down at him as the baby wakes a little.

“He, uh, he was born last night… 2:34 in the morning, 6 pounds, 8 ounces… I can’t remember what the doctor said his height was…” Rooster rattles off the information blankly, though stumbles a little as he fails to recall some of the details he feels like he should remember. Once his son was there, though, Rooster had found it hard to pay attention to anything else.

Ice glances up at him and chuckles warmly.

“Looks around 20 inches.”

“Right.”

They sit quietly for a few seconds before Goose stirs more and just as Rooster jerks to go to him, Ice is cooing again, bouncing and rocking him gently, in the way only an experienced parent knows how to do, and the sight makes Rooster falter and fall back in his seat, amazed that the baby ceases his soft cries almost immediately. Ice looks over at him and shrugs.

“Still got it.” He jokes. Rooster can’t help but grin. He’d spent many a summer alongside the Kazansky children when they’d eventually come along. He had many vivid memories of visiting Aunt Sarah in the hospital with Mav and his mom after each were born. He remembers how all the doctors and nurses were fascinated by how instantly Ice could get a baby to stop crying. In the back of his mind, Rooster recalls his mom saying that the famous ‘ice coldness’ that gave him his callsign must have worked on baby’s as well as aviators.

“Congratulations, Bradley. I’m so proud of you.” Ice says then, tearing his eyes at last from the baby to stare at Rooster.

“Thank you… he’s uh… he means everything to me.” Rooster tells him, feeling his chest squeeze up again.

“I know the feeling.” Ice nods in agreement, rocking the baby again. “Have you named him yet?” he asks then. The question makes Rooster swallow thickly, but he nods, and does his best to clear his throat.

“We named him Nick. After dad.” he says, and watches how Ice takes the information in, and although his smile softens, he doesn’t look at all surprised. He almost looks like he’d known the answer to his own question all along, and for some reason he can’t explain, it brings Rooster comfort.

“His mom and I… we’ve taken to calling him Goose… it suits him.” Rooster goes on, not feeling like he has to explain himself or his choices, knowing that Ice understood him to the core. The older man lets out a small dramatic ‘oh’, and looks back down at the baby in his arms, bringing him closer to his face as he starts baby-talking to him softly.

“Goose?! Are you little baby Goose? Of course you are! Look at you, of course you’re a Goose!” Ice keens affirmingly, taking a moment to swipe his hand over the thick dark hair on the baby's head, smoothing it down as Goose begins to blow bubbles. Ice starts to chuckle, but the sound is cut off by a rasping hack, his head snapping away from Goose and into his shoulder as he coughs violently, whole body juddering as he attempts to suppress his movements, trying his best not to shake the baby.

Rooster hurries to his side, collecting Goose from his arms, and then moving for the glass of water on his website, filling it up and offering it out as Ice hacks and splutters viciously, his throat sounding like he was coughing up gravel and rocks.

It takes a moment, but eventually the older man starts to get a hold of his coughing and his breathing, and he lets himself fall tiredly against his pillows, gratefully accepting the water when he spies Rooster holding it out for him.

“I’m sorry,” he begins, voice sounding raspier and weaker now. Rooster frowns and swallows.

“Are you alright…?” he asks, knowing deep down that the answer was likely not one he’d want to hear. Ice takes a large sip of water before leaning back and sighing lowly. After a moment, he fixes Rooster under his intense gaze and smiles softly.

“No. But I’m trying to be.”

Rooster stares, all of a sudden wondering where all the years had gone, and how much time he wasted ignoring everyone who reminded him of his past, instead of acknowledging their importance to him, and their influence on the man he was today.

He opens his mouth, but the older man cuts him off.

“I don’t want to talk about that, though. I’d rather focus on the future, and on how you’ve been. Tell me all about your family…”

Rooster does. He talks for longer than he thought he would have, tells his adoptive uncle the entire story of how you met, how Goose came to be, and all the little things inbetween. Honestly, he talks openly in a way he hasn’t in years, but is long overdue, and he relishes in the familial approval of his Uncle Ice as he laughs and hums along to each story, asking questions here and there or chipping in.

He tells him all about you, your fling back after he’d completed TOPGUN, and how he feels like from the moment the two of you sat at his piano together, he’d just known you were it for him. How for the first time in his life he hadn’t felt any rush, because he knew you were it, and then how that romantic sentiment was thrown overboard when you’d found out you were pregnant. He tells Ice how you’d decided to get married, mostly so that the two of you (plus Goose eventually) could be counted as a family unit in the Navy’s eyes, and how it would just make things easier.

Rooster even divulges how even though your marriage was one out of practical reasons, and you both referred to each other as spouses, Rooster wants to give you a real wedding, a proper one. He quietly tells Ice that he knows neither of you would have considered marriage so soon if not for Goose, but that he feels for once in his life, a choice he’s made is emphatically, without a doubt, the right one.

By the time Rooster is done, he feels lighter, happier if that were even possible, and he and Ice sit in amicable silence for a few moments, listening to the various medical machines around the room beep and whir softly.

Rooster knows the question is coming, and he surprises himself when it doesn’t spark an immediate souring of his mood.

“Does Maverick know?” Ice asks softly, nodding at Goose, who lets out a tiny whine as if in reply. Rooster takes a moment to calm his son and make sure he isn't about to fit, before he sucks in a deep breath and answers.

“No.”

More quiet prevails, this time Rooster avoids looking in the other man’s direction, busying himself fiddling with Goose’s little PJ’s.

“I’m not going to lecture you, Bradley. You’re a grown man, an adult, a father. Your choices are your own,” Ice says, voice sounding bereft, but Rooster can sense his sincerity, which somehow doesn’t make him feel better or secure in his grudge. “If you ask me not to mention any of this, I promise this little rendezvous will stay between us.” the older man goes on to assure him, making Rooster glance sharply up.

Ice is regarding him somberly, but he reaches out to grip Rooster’s shoulder firmly, giving him a gentle squeeze.

“I understand. My lips are sealed.” he makes a zipping and locking motion over his lips, and then settles back against his pillows.

“I should be getting back. And let you rest…” Rooster starts, receiving a hand wave from Ice.

“Perhaps I’ll be able to convince you to bring your family over for dinner sometime…” Ice trails off, and Rooster takes his cue to stand. He reaches out for Ice’s shoulder this time, and mimics his previous shoulder squeeze.

“I’d like that. I… I hope you get better…” Rooster says, and gets another hand wave.

“If you need anything at all when it comes to the baby, don’t hesitate to give Sarah a call… she won’t say anything either if you ask…”

Rooster thanks him and quietly makes his exit, Ice clearly already dropping off. It makes Rooster wonder how weak he usually was, and how much he’d exerted himself due to his and Goose’s presence. He returns to you in your room, just as Goose begins fussing for food, and he helps as best he can once more as you go about feeding him.

When both you and the baby are asleep once more, Rooster sits quietly, watching his son’s chest rise and fall and considering the turn of events in the last day or two.

He finds himself once again surprised by the lack of anger that came at the mentioning of Maverick, and as Rooster contemplates if it were just his good mood from welcoming his son into the world colouring his emotions, he comes to the realisation that for the first time since he was eighteen, he doesn’t feel such an unrelenting fury anymore.

He wonders if becoming a father has anything to do with his sudden change. He thinks of Goose growing up, of the family he had, and his chest starts to hurt a little. You didn’t have any immediate family to speak of, and all he had was the Navy, and maybe, Uncle Ice. He understands then,  why you were keen on letting Hangman be so present in Goose’s life, if you were as close as it appears you are.

Hangman was many things, and if one of those happened to be his wife's good friend, who took care of her when she was pregnant, sick, and alone, helped her to appointments, and made sure she got her quals on top of it all... well, Rooster is okay with that.

Maybe even okay with Uncle Jake, though he's not sure he'll ever admit it to anyone's face.

Rooster sighs and rests his hand on his son’s head, smoothing back his hair. Maverick was still, despite over a decade of separation, the closest thing Rooster had to a family. There’s a part of him that realises, when he thought about the future, though present for him now, when Rooster had imagined having a wife and kids, he’d also subconsciously imagined having made up with Maverick by that point in time. Despite what he’d done, Rooster is hit with the realisation that he wanted Maverick to be a part of his life, he wanted his son to know him, to love him as much as Rooster loves him, deep in his heart.

Rooster decides then that he will forgive Maverick. He’s not sure when exactly, he doesn’t know if he’s completely ready for all of that emotional unpacking so soon, but he promises himself, and Goose, that he will resolve things with the only father he has left, before it’s too late.

PRESENT DAY

“Are you ready, babe?” you ask, looking over at your husband in the driver's seat, where he’s been sitting ever since pulling up to the massive private hangar. You’d managed to get Goose unbuckled and out in the time Rooster had taken to just sit, staring blankly ahead.

His gaze snaps to you then, and you smile softly, reaching out to take his hand.

“Are you ready?” you ask again, meaning altered this time, and you watch him process, nodding even before he’s fully back to himself. He squeezes your fingers and draws them near, placing a kiss on your knuckles before he releases you.

“Yes ma’am. It’s been a long time coming.” he tells you, finally exiting the car, and moving to the side door to grab the cooler of snacks and drinks you’d brought despite your host's insistence you bring nothing.

You smile and raise an eyebrow at him over the top of your car.

“I should say so!” you snark playfully, receiving a cheeky grin in reply as Rooster rounds the car and dips down to press a much-too-heated kiss to your lips.

“I know, I know, honeymoon in Hawaii, I know…” despite his apparent complaining, he presses another kiss to your lips and you can’t help but moon up at him.

“I love you,” you tell him, before straightening up and checking you’ve got everything. “Ready?” you ask again, watching as Rooster opens his mouth to confirm, but the voice you hear is much smaller, and from about knee height between you.

“I’m ready!” Goose announces. You and Rooster both look down to where your son has materialised between you, pushing the pair of you apart as if annoyed by all this dilly-dallying, and pulling a loud chortle from your husband.

“You hear that, sweetheart? Boy’s ready to sortie!” Rooster rallies him, and you all begin to move. “Go Goose, go, go go!” he continues, in what you know is a mimic of the launch crew when he takes off on a carrier. You watch as ahead of you Goose takes off in a little run, his legs a little too short to really carry him too far, but you call out to him to wait for you anyway, uncertain of how tidy this hangar you were headed into really was.

As the three of you get closer, you begin to make out an assortment of people, all gathered around mismatching couches and chairs that were arranged under the shade of the hangar, a BBQ set up nearby already steaming away with several men standing around it.

A loud, boisterous laugh draws your attention, just as it draws Goose’s and the second he realises his Uncle Jake is present, your son moves at what you’re sure are supersonic speeds, his little voice suddenly much too loud.

“Uncle Jake!” Goose shouts, launching himself across the gathering, and you’re thankful for aviators needing fast reflexes, because you aren’t sure how else Jake manages to catch the mass of a toddler flying for him.

“Hey hey! If it ain’t the coolest little man I know!” Jake announces, his hold on Goose easily shifting so he can lift the boy right up off the ground, and hang him upside down slightly as he giggles manically.

Now that your son wasn’t just running around of his own accord, you let your eyes leave him, secure in the knowledge that Jake adored him far too much to let him get into trouble. You and Rooster approach the group, calling various hellos and greetings, but you’re both interrupted from mingling too much as a man you’ve only ever seen in photos steps towards you, wiping his hands off on his jeans, though they don’t look dirty.

“Rosie,” Rooster begins, stepping around you slightly to getsure to the man. “This is Pete Mitchell. You can just call him Mav. Mav, this is my wife, Rosie.” you can hear the slight shake in your husband’s voice, so you give the hand that holds your a squeeze, before releasing it to offer it out to Maverick, who keenly shakes it, his smile warm and welcoming and, you think, a little nervous.

“It’s so nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much.” You tell him, and earn a soft little laugh.

“It’s my pleasure, really.” Maverick insists, and oddly, you feel like he really means it.

“Hangman, can I borrow my son for a moment?” Rooster suddenly calls out from beside you, catching the attention of the blonde, who currently had Goose hanging over one shoulder as he seemingly critiqued Payback on the grill. Jake turns to look at Goose, saying something only they can hear, before he lifts the boy to sit fully on his shoulders, and begins moving in your direction.

Maverick somehow lifts an eyebrow and frowns at the same time, shooting Rooster a questioning, clearly confused look. Rooster rolls his eyes heavily, before jutting his thumb in your direction.

“Against all good sense, the two of them are friends.” he says by way of explanation. You shake your own head, but ignore it. You know Rooster’s relationship with Jake was complicated, even more so recently, but you also know the two trusted and respected one another. The ribbing was just a bonus.

When Jake is only a few feet away, he reaches up and plucks Goose down, flipping him once before his feet hit the ground, and your son explodes in a fit of giggles and demands to go again.

“Not just now Goose, come here for a sec, there’s someone who wants to meet you.” Rooster says gently, crouching down to receive his son as the boy tottles over to lean against his father’s legs.

You stay standing, but watch as Mav seems to anxiously copy Rooster’s movements, crouching down to Goose’s height. Your son all of a sudden turns shy, backing into his dad, and Rooster wraps an arm around him for support.

“Goose, this is your Grandpa Mav…” Rooster says softly, watching as Goose glances toward the apparent stranger with mounting curiosity, though he still lingers in his father’s safety.

“Hey, Goose, I’ve been waiting all week to meet you,” Mav says, and you wonder why he’s so nervous when he seemed to have an immediate aptitude for talking to kids.

“Yeah?” Goose asks shyly, making both Rooster and Mav chuckle, the older man nodding.

“Oh, hey, what’s that you’ve got there?” Mav asks, pointing to the small model toy jet clutched in one of the toddler's chubby hands.

At first Goose shoves the toy behind his back out of instinct, but after Rooster whispers an encouragement to him, he pulls it back out and holds it out, showing it to Mav, who cautiously inches closer.

“Woah, look at that! Is this your favourite?” Maverick asks, earning instant approval as Goose begins stepping closer too, and letting Grandpa Mav get a good look at his toy, bonding instantly as Mav asks him more and more questions about the plane, and Goose realises that much like his dad, or Uncle Jake, Grandpa Mav was a fountain of knowledge on aeroplanes.

In less than three minutes Mav has Goose in his arms, and he’s carrying the boy around the workshop part of his hangar, showing him everything and anything he points to, and answering every question the toddler can think of.

You have to wipe your eyes on the back of your hands, leaning back into the warmth of your husband as he wraps himself around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as you both watch Mav pull down a toy jet similar to Goose’s, only this one you’re sure is as old as you are.

“Thank you. For everything.” Rooster says softly, making you turn your head to look at him.

“I’m proud of you, Bradley, I really am.” you tell him, cupping his cheek and giving it a kiss as best you can.

“And now I can give you that beach wedding and Hawaiin honeymoon, hmm?” His voice is full of a gentle laugh and you join him, your cheeks becoming sore from smiling so much.

“Well… I think we’ll have to wait a little bit for that. At least until Goose’s backseater is here.” you say airly. Rooster hums, his hands moving to rest over the barely noticeable bump in your belly, which is then covered by your own.

“Yeah… Now I’ve just got to figure out how to tell Mav about that.”

#top gun fanfiction #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x y/n #rooster bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw #bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x reader

[danvillecheese]

why do u think act ur age is fucked

[cracks knuckles] alright. essay time. you asked for it.

I’ve done a similar response to this before here and mentioned something else about it here but I’ll go over it again since those posts are both from a while ago. also bear in mind I haven’t seen aya recently bc I don’t like it. okay let’s get into it

[also im gonna preface this saying maybe i sound very pessimistic but im ranting and its just gonna sound like im complaining because i am. i mean no real malice by the way. im simply a person with a blog.]

first off. they don’t use the show don’t tell as well as they could. in the what might have been montage, sure, they showed potential scenarios and how phineas felt (very briefly) when isa stopped visiting his backyard but it just feels so rushed. I get that they only had like 11 minutes to show it but idk there has to be another way to write it. or just not have it at all idk its just from a writing point of view the whole episode feels rushed and out of place from everything else continuity-wise. why not use little easter eggs planted in the show beforehand? operation crumbcake? pharmacists? meapless in seattle? god theres so many episodes with evidence that phineas liked her back even if he didnt know. just. continuity!!!!

second. why did their friends not try something sooner. it’s not like they didn’t know. like phineas seems to be okay with saying “i wish! i am so in the friend zone there” in front of his friends (that quote alone makes me lose my shit but that’s a whole other point) so clearly they knew about phineas. and isabella also wasn’t quiet about it (source: pnf s1-4). they had like four years of high school to do something and they planned it the day isa left for college? nah its just the least realistic thing ever for me. also them being 18 is like yeah okay maybe the slow burn was worth it and theyre way more grown up (i love a good slowburn) but ohhhhhh my god SURELY their friends were getting sick of them dancing around each other. just me?

third. and I’m sorry to ash simpson but oh my god I hate the character designs like They Would Not Fucking Look Like That. it almost feels like it completely disregards their arcs during the original summer. like yeah child chub disappears over ur teen years but sometimes it stays a little longer! make phineas less twiggy!! make isa look more like her mother! (am i about to redesign them again? whoops)

four. and i know this is no fault of dan and swampy but the show was about to end anyways and yet the entire friend group was paired off into hetero ships?? get fucking real. none of those kids are straight. realistically, i know it was a different time and gay marriage wasnt even legal in the us yet so it wasnt all that common to have queer romance on screen let alone on disney channel but like i said, the show was about to end. what were the disney channel execs gonna do? cancel it? lmao

five. "I am so in the friend zone there." "we are guys. we do not talk about our feelings." WHAT!!! i cant believe this shit is real. these lines of dialogue are canon. what the hell. what kind of message does that even send to younger, impressionable viewers? if ur a 10 year old boy watching that (ok fine maybe that isnt gonna stick with you forever but listen) and you go 'oh its okay to just bottle everything up and not tell my friends about my feelings about anything ever' that is insane! thats not how things should go!! like i get the whole "im so in the friend zone" and yes, this also has to do with the era but like if they wanted to be a more progressive cartoon that kids look up to and enjoy maybe they just. shouldn't have put that whole conversation in.

i barely have any problems with the b plot. in fact id watch the episode just for the kazoo solo. because that plot lines up with the continuity. i can totally see heinz having bowling night with perry and carl and monogram every week! i can totally see perry and monogram retired! and carl running owca and getting payed for it! that all checks out! that one makes sense and works with the canon! if they got that plot so right how did they get the a plot so wrong?

i can answer this question: fanservice. its an awful word, i know. act your age is a fanservicey episode which is why i think it crashed and burned. mml season 2 is rooted in the same issue: doof is very present and takes away from the original plot of the show. like, the one he wasnt even in until the last episode of s1. slightly getting off topic but it is the crux of the issue. fanservice doesnt make for good storytelling. even if it brings in the big bucks. at its core, telling the story the way it should be told is the best one. even if it pisses people off. a good portion of the viewers will still appreciate whatever ending the creators come up with. and no, im not saying phinbella shouldn't have become canon, in fact i really like the ship and all their dynamics, i just think they went about it the wrong way.

as someone who's written and published fic about them getting together in different universes (granted, they were from when i was younger so its mildly terrible. take them with a grain of salt) there are a lot of other ways to tell that story canonically. honestly, i think the best way of doing it was to keep it ambiguous. dont tell that story. let the viewers pick their own ending for phineas and isabella. maybe they dont get together after all. who knows!

thanks for the ask! hope you had fun getting lectured <3

#phineas and ferb #phinbella #act your age #ask #this was fun you guys should ask me more stuff like this #dwampyverse analysis

[ask-team-misfit]

[ in reference to this ]

Hearing and seeing Pikavee go up to the edge of the pit and kneel to look in at her was quite a shock to Rue. She’d heard their voices nearby, barely, but didn’t think either of them would act upon it.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Rue, a hybrid of Vulpix and Deerling, with a mono-color background. She is shown from the neck up, with her face slightly angled away from the viewer towards the left. She looks surprised. Her eyes are slightly wide and her mouth agape, and there's a couple of sweat drops on her face. End ID ]

Rue: “Pikavee?”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Pikavee, a hybrid of Espeon and Umbreon, shown from the neck up, oriented similarly to the previous image. She appears somewhat concerned or timid. Her eyes are downcast, with her mouth in a shaky frown. Her ears are drooped down. End ID ]

Pikavee: “A-are you alright?”

Rue watched as Pikavee’s forehead spot lit up with a pink light, emitting psychic power.

A numbing sensation overtook her body from the neck down as this same power surrounded her, proceeding to slowly and gently lift her out onto the ledge opposite of Pikavee.

Rue: “I’m alright. Just a little bruised…”

For a moment, she had an invasive, morbid thought that completely betrayed the worry she saw on Pikavee’s face.

This tingling numbness that completely restrained her body–if the Twileon had a tighter grasp on her…

Of course, no such thing happened. She would be released upon being set on the ground without incident.

Rue: “Thank you…”

She wished she could more properly express her thanks, but she still appeared no less stressed about what happened earlier.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Rue shown from the neck up, oriented similarly to the previous image. She appears fairly nervous. She’s looking off to the right. End ID ]

Rue: “I-it’s Fenninkou I’m more worried about. She rushed off here in the forest after someone came by and mentioned a friend being in need of rescue…”

Knowing that, Pikavee looked guilty for not stepping in sooner.

Pikavee: “Oh… I-I thought you two were arguing.”

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Rue similar to the previous image, but with a different expression. She appears wary, or otherwise displeased. Her eyes appear half-lidded and she's frowning lightly. End ID ]

Rue: “So you heard all of that.”

Rue pointing it out made Pikavee feel even worse. A part of her realized in hindsight how she may have sounded upon saying that.

Pikavee: “I-I was listening in before. I’m sorry…”

Rue: “I-it’s… don’t worry about it.”

Rue’s eyes shifted down towards the ground. She basically looked grief-stricken; her ears were nearly flat against her head and her face was on the verge of openly expressing pain. Her tails flicked about behind her somewhat.

Pikavee’s concern grew as she watched. Today has been quite a few firsts for her, regarding seeing this side of Rue. She wanted to help, and began to offer exactly that.

It would be Rue that ended up asking first. She was clearly hesitant to do so–but she had no other recourse.

Rue: “I’m sorry to bother, but I’ll need your help catching up to them now. If anything happened to Fenninkou and that’s what I said to her last…”

Pikavee: “Y-yeah. I can help you find them.”

Rue sighed a little. Underneath her unease, she felt relief.

Rue: “Please be careful.”

Pikavee: “I-I won’t go too fast. They went this way, right…?”

Lief watched the following exchange take place, still eating that berry from before.

He didn’t move to join them, even as the duo took off in the general direction he had seen Fenninkou and Hazel ran in.

He shrugged, and commented out loud to himself.

[ ID: A grayscale drawing of Lief, a hybrid of Sylveon and Ribombee, shown from the neck up, oriented similarly to the previous image. He looks puzzled, or curious. His left eyebrow is noticeably raised, while his right eyelid is lowered somewhat. He is frowning visibly. An angular question mark is floating next to his head at the left. End ID ]

Lief: “I see the kid still very much has a lust for death… forget what I said, I guess.”

[ Typical. He’s staying behind. Yet something seems to be clearly bothering him regardless... ]

Lief: “You’re still here? This isn’t a party, you know. And if it was? Not invited.”

[ results ]

#// this doesn't affect whether or not you can reply btw. only whether or not you can send asks to him #// so anyways hi hello I'm testing a thing that I may or may not give more relevance later on :3c #// that said. don't take what I just said too literally; this one doesn't affect the plot that deeply... but future ones may! #plot #pokemon askblog #pokemon ask blog #pokeask #pokemon #pokeaskblog #pokeask blog #ask blog #Rue Vuling #Pikavee Twileon #Lief Simbobeon #other's art #pokemon ask

[facesofone]

A long time ago when we were in high school, we didn't know we were a system, even though there were plenty of clues along the way. One of which was when Kyra would spontaneously become co-conscious only to cry. In hindsight we know that she was expressing her feelings about having the front taken away from her, her having to watch from the side-lines as we did whatever we wanted with her life. It was a strange annoyance at the time, but another in the long list of times when I could've realized much sooner that I was a system.

[ID]

Panel 1: In the top left of the panel it let's us know that this was "A Long Time Ago..." Jak is walking down the street with a backpack on. He hears the sounds of Kyra but can't make out any words. He says "Hmm?" in response.

Panel 2: He looks over his shoulder to see the massive head of Kyra, who is wailing in tears.

Panel 3: He holds his head and shakes it three times to rid him of the image.

Panel 4: He continues walking as he thinks "I don't know who that girl is, but I wish she'd stop randomly appearing just to cry."

[END ID]

[hannahchronism]

I wish I had thought of this sooner because now probably you have made all your things unless you are a late night person or plan to bake on christmas day but do u want..... a cookie recipe? Behold:

Refrigerator Cookies*

*yes they probably have a proper name, no I don't care what it is

ID: A yellow notecard with the recipe listed in cursive handwriting, there are a few small stains on the card, and the whole thing has been laminated. Stains and all. Authenticity! End ID.

Transcription & more baking instructions below!

Ingredients:

1 cup butter (we use real butter but margarine and other substitutes should work fine!)

1 cup (granulated cane) sugar

1 cup brown sugar (light or dark, doesn't matter)

2 eggs (grade A is best for ratio reasons)

1 and 1/2 teaspoon vanilla

3 cups "flower" (all-purpose baking flour lol)

1 teaspoon baking soda

2 tablespoons ground cinnamon

1 tsp salt

1 cup chopped pecans (optional! but really very good)

[.... You know what? While typing this I just realized I forgot the salt in the batch I just made. hm...... The butter was salted it's probably fine.]

Bake at 400° Fahrenheit (204 Celsius- do you guys cook with Celsius too or is it only for weather?) for 8-10 minutes until light brown*

*the dough is already brown. I do not know how to advise you of its baked color you kind of just have to do your best, watch the edges. They're still good slightly overbaked don't worry about it.

Mixing Instructions:

DO NOT PREHEAT YOUR OVEN (YET)

1. Soften or melt your butter (/butter substitute)

Either soften by leaving it at room temperature for awhile, or melt it in the microwave (30 seconds at a time for best, least like to explode all over your microwave results.) Melted is better than softened, in my opinion, but either is functional. (Melted just effects the final texture, they're chewier this way. Also it makes the next step easier.)

2. Mix in sugars.

Once butter(/sub) is soft/melted, pour in the white sugar and brown sugar. One at a time works better with softened butter, both can go in at the same time for melted. Mix until combined. It's going to have a very pasty, gritty texture.

3. Add eggs.

Crack your eggs into the mix, watch for shell bits. Mix in the eggs until all trace of them disappears, like a magic trick! The mix will still be gritty and unpleasant looking.

4. Add vanilla, salt, and baking soda.

I know the card lists flour next but it's better to do this here. It also helps keep you from forgetting the salt (🤡). Mix until these things disappear, and maybe a little more just to be sure everything is all distributed.

5. Add cinnamon.

It's going to look like a lot and smell intensely like pumpkin pie or apple pie and change the color from looks-like-chocolate-chip-cookies to a much darker brown, and you're going to go "...really? two tablespoons?" but trust the process. Really, two tablespoons. Stir! until combined and very brown.

6. Now add the flour.

One cup at a time!!!!! Or even half a cup at a time! Trust me adding all three cups at the same time will just make a mess and you'll be sad. One cup in, stir until it disappears. Repeat two more times. Now, like most cookie dough, the amount of flour is a little flexible. Once you've added all three cups, if your dough is still very sticky you need to add more flour! Personally I usually end up with about another... 1/4 a cup? but I live in a very humid climate. You're looking for a playdough-like texture! It sticks more to itself than the mixing bowl or spoon (/spatula, whatever you're mixing with. Hey don't use a whisk by the way.) You should be able to pick it up with your hands and move it without it sticking to you. If you've ever made the pilsburry roll of chocolate chip cookies, where you buy the dough in a little tube? Like that. If your dough gets too crumbly, and won't stick to itself anymore, you've gone too far!!! You can revive this with a little little bit of water, like a teaspoon at a time, until you get it back to sticks-to-itself. It really shouldn't take a lot, and you don't want to add too much because it can throw off bake times and make your cookies thin and weird.

7. Add pecans.

I like to do this step here, and sort of just fold them into the (play)dough. You could also put them in before the flour, with the cinnamon! Whichever is easiest or least aggravating, it doesn't especially matter. Just make sure they're not all clumped up together. Also the pecans are optional but (barring an allergy of course) I really would say leave them in and try it this way at least once! I would... not substitute in peanuts. Or any other nut I can think of, unless it has a similar texture to a pecan? Walnuts would probably be ok, if you're so inclined.

8. Throw those suckers in the FRIDGE baby

We generally separate the dough in halves for this step! It's not strictly necessary, but it makes things easier to manage. Take your dough out of the bowl and slap it onto some wax paper. (Do not use parchment paper, it will leach out the moisture and your dough will stick to it and become a little crumbly and you will be sad.) Using the wax paper like a weird blanket or burrito wrap, shape your dough into a vaguely rectangle shape, fold the wax paper over it so that it's completely covered, and then put your dough-log in the fridge. The dough absolutely *MUST* rest in the fridge for at least three hours. We usually leave it overnight! It's convenient and also generally yields best results. But, if you're in a little more of a rush than that, three hours is fine. But no less!!!!! We've baked them without letting them rest before and it just doesn't work as well and they burn so quickly and so completely. They turn into charcoal. Fridge your fridge cookies or suffer!!!!!!!!!!

9. Preheat & Bake!

Once they've rested for at least three hours, you can pull them out and throw them in the oven! You can shape them, if you like. Roll them into balls like chocolate chip cookies or .. I think cookie cutters could be used here? If you're quick about rolling them out. We slice them from the 'log' and lay them on a (greased or lined!) baking sheet straightaway, so the cookie is sort of long and vaguely rectangular. It makes them distinctive and also you want them as cold as possible when they go in the oven, to keep from burning, so this is the most efficient way to do it! But, the shape doesn't have any real significance, go ham. Bake for ... ~8-10 minutes, or until you see them getting dark around the edges (which, I know, is very difficult because they're already kind of dark.) It's kind of a guessing game? But, as mentioned above, they're good if you overshoot a batch by a little bit, and you can learn and aim a little lower for round two!

10. Enjoy!

These bad boys are so stupid good. Excellent coffee cookie. No idea if they go with tea but why wouldn't they? I'm gonna eat 100.

Okay this has been a cookie recipe, that's all, Happy Holidays ♥

[gizm0-gadgetz]

Fuck it. Shorter chapters. Please note i havnt written anything in a while, so im a little rusty :)

Epilogue Au

Chapter 1

Desmond wakes up to Lucas watching over him. Answers will have to wait, theres someone he needs to go and see.

    Desmond groaned softly, rolling over a bit. His body was so tense and sore, like he would snap if he moved. He faintly registered the sound of somebody moving, then there was a hand on his. He tried to look at the mystery person, only to get pushed down a bit. 

    "Calm down Desmond. You need to rest." That voice was framiler, he knew that voice. Who was it again? "Just let me help, alright?" The mystery man's voice was pained, but sounded relieved at the same time. "Guess they got to you before i did, huh?" Oh...oh! Lucas! It was Lucas! He made it! 

    "Lucas-!" He tried to sit up properly, but Lucas pushed him down again. "You made it-" 

   "Woah woah, slow down cowboy. You shouldn't move that fast… but yes. I made it, I wasn't just gonna ignore your call for help man." He squeezed Desmond's hand. "Scared me good, seeing you on the floor like that." 

   Desmond nodded, sitting up slowly this time. His joints cracked in protest, but he ignored it. Finally his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting of the room again. He took a moment to look around him. Man his office was a mess, though he wasn't that surprised. Lucas stood next to him, towering over him more so than usual. That's when he realized he was laying on his couch. Oh, that explained it. 

    "I'm glad you're okay man… Now, what the hell happened? Looks to me those bastards got to you before i did, judging by that box over there." Lucas gestured behind him to his desk. 

    "I'm fine. I think." He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. "Look I'll explain later, first I need to know, has Allen awoken from his coma yet?" 

    "No, not that ive heard." 

    "Then cmon, we're gonna go visit him." He said, already standing up and grabbing his coat.  

    "Why would we need to visit him? As far as I know he hasn't responded to anything. Good as dead." 

    "Because I just...feel like something is going to happen." 

   "Why would something happen just because we visit him?" Lucas asked, following Desmond out the door. 

   "I don't know, okay? Alls i know is the world is going to hell in a handbasket and nobody is doing anything to stop it!" Desmond stopped walking, leaning against the wall and taking a few deep breaths. "Sorry. I'm just… A lot happened and I'd prefer to only explain once.. So id like to check on Allen first." He started walking again, faster this time. 

    "Hey, don't worry man. I'm on your side here. I just… Don't see the connection is all. Allen was just the lighthouse worker, wasn't he?" 

    "He was there when the crash happened." He spoke quieter, as now they had left the building. The town seemed so quiet compared to just a few weeks before. People were paranoid, hiding inside and only leaving occasionally. Of course there were a few who didn't believe anything was happening, but there weren't many. "He had called me about it, shortly after it happened. I wish I was there to answer." The wind was a bit chilly, but it wasn't that surprising. It was Washington afterall. 

   "He was there..?" Lucas seemed to be processing, trying to understand the connection. Then it clicked. "The fire. It wasn't his fault…" Desmond only nodded, crossing the street. "They tried to get rid of him… oh no." 

   "Exactly." Desmond kept walking, not looking at lucas. 

   "So it's true isn't it? That panicked call of his about men in black?" 

   "Must be, yes." 

   "Dammit… how did i not see it sooner…." Desmond shrugged as Lucas cursed a few more times under his breath. They continued to walk in silence for a good ten minutes after that, neither of them were willing to break the tension. 

    Desmond's pace slowed considerably as they approached the hospital. He was having second thoughts about this plan. What if they wouldn't let them see him? They could call the cops. That wouldnt do any good. 

    "Desmond." Lucas's stern voice cut through his thoughts. He blinked a few times before taking a deep breath. "You sure you want to do this right away? It might be best to put it off until you have recovered more." 

    "..i appreciate the concern, but it'll be fine." He smiled, trying to convince himself it would be okay. He was pretty sure Lucas doubted his optimism, but if he did, he didn't say anything. After one more deep breath, he reached for the door and pulled it open. 

    Hopefully Allen would be okay. 

#gizm0 writing #in sound mind #in sound mind desmond wales #desmond wales #in sound mind lucas cole #in sound mind allen shore #allen shore #lucas cole #epilouge au

[eclectic-ways]

If you’re currently in a serious relationship and most of the above don’t sync well with your partner; I urge you to save your time, efforts and soul, and move on.

It is what I did with my ex I broke up with a few days ago and we were about to get married. After all the things I’ve endured to contain the relationship; him totally (kept) being a narcissistic ass, thoughtless, selfish, fussy, scrappy, aggressive and aggravating EVEN during my severe fibro flare-up days (due to all the stress he’s had me put me up with previously); and not to mention reversing what’s happened in his head blaming me for everything; refusing to acknowledge or own all the wrongdoings; was the final straw.

I was also feeling very suicidal for days. I had a few “attempts” and many plans & strong “wishes” as well. And he knew and witnessed all of it. Our last day: He pushed — I backed off; he pushed — I said “Please, not today, I feel really sick. I can’t right now.” Then he got even more triggered as I was not responding to his aggression. He felt that I don’t care about him and don’t love him. And that it’s always about me. None of this is true, I swear to God.

“You always excuse your illness to treat me bad. I won’t let you manipulate me anymore. I don’t care about your illness anymore. I’m going home.” while proceeding to pack up. What a projection eh… All I did that day was to interrupt his sentence twice to assume what he was gonna say in a joking manner. And yeah…

All the “improvements and healing” I thought he’s had during these 6 months we lived together was just a facade I madly wanted to believe in. I still love him so much and this is gonna be real hard for me. But something deeply shut down in me. If someone is still crossing the line when it’s a matter of life and death, that right there is NOT love.

The sooner I choose myself, the less damage I will get which I’ve had more than enough in life let alone in this relationship. I’m sick of getting stuck in fight & flight mode, traumas, stress; being in shocking frustration; having to express and validate myself and health issues; giving up from myself for the sake of “love”. Not anymore.

Na-uh.

I thought I’ve healed a lot and had a big enlightenment over the last 2 years of isolation enough not to put up with bullshits like this. I’m disappointed in myself. Even though, I had certain boundaries and rules in the beginning and was never willing to negotiate; he crushed me hard progressively.

He unloaded all his baggage in time. I resisted a lot but eventually I watched my ID dissolve and my soul fade away. I wasn’t even doing my spiritual practices anymore, for instance, because he judges and mocks. And there are so many other things like this and different things…

Anyway. I hope I survive. And when I do, I hope I can be more than my survival and finally start living rather than just existing. My potentials still await me. I know it.

#to love #to love and be loved #to love someone #love #relationship goals #partnership #serious relationship #Jillian Turecki #love quotes #facts #love facts #breakup #psychological abuse #surviving narcissism #bpd blog #fibrolife #choose yourself #suicidal #narcissim #bpd #bpd fp #fibro blog #fibrowarrior #heartbreak #healing #ptsd warrior #toxic relationship

[writing-fanics]

so like for the morpheus x water nymph reader fic I’m thinking about when roderick opens the door from her locked room.

“am I finally free?” she asks, looking at him.

“no even better I got you a friend,” He says, and she’s just heartbroken.

“I don’t wish for a friend I wish to be freed.” She said back cowering on her bed.

“I want to go home you promised. why keep me here I’m of no use to you.” Y/n

“you keep me as a trophy something to show off to your guest.”

He then grabs her roughly she’s then knocked out and placed into the glass sphere along with the endless. seeing the nymph angers morpheus as he glared at his captor

“you should thank me dream of the endless I gave you a little friend.” Roderick says

Morpheus glared at him the endless clenched his hand, “Annoying little thing really won’t stop complaining.”

[y/n] whimpers at the pain on the side of her forehead. a small bruise and a toy stream of blood ran down her forehead.

[y/n] opened her eyes and realized where she was she was about to panic when she noticed Dream beside her, “Onerios?”

he hasn’t heard that name in years, “I haven’t heard that name in centuries.” Morpheus

“my mother told me about you,” y/n

“good things I hope,” morpheus

“mostly.” Y/n

“I was captured from my home,”

“Haven’t been in the water since”

“I miss it dearly along with my mother.”

her head starts hurting again she starts feeling dizzy and leans her head against the glass. he could only watch as she passes out.

As time went on they slowly knew more about each other but slowly y/n started to seemingly fade away from the lake of food [id if water nymphs get hungry or not probs due but are immortal but not really just live ten times as long as humans]

she’s weak barely able to sit up straight and is seemingly slowly dying a lot sooner

Morpheus still upholding his pride keeps his mouth shut while holding her in his arms

#fanfic #x reader #angst #headcanons #fluff #romance #morpheus x reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman #morpheus x y/n

[biconickyoshi]

ive already put a comment on ur fic but i couldnt let it go without saying that i *literally* cant watch the main show without thinking about your fic and i wish that i could like. watch a version of the show that was your fic xD like ive been ranting and raving to my friends the entire time id been reading it and telling them to read it and i was planning on trying to get back into art so i could make some art of the boys, i am like. a changed person. this will be living in the back of my head rent free for the rest of eternity LMAO if you ever get like, doubtful of your skills or anything or unsure if people actually like anything youve wrote, i am here to tell u to not be cus i am *living* for this fic im running around in circles rereading it and getting zoomies lmfao, it is literally one of my fave fics of all time and ive been in fandom spaces for half my life now, its THAT GOOD (also anyone who follows you, you guys need to go read it honestly, IT NEEDS MORE HITS AND KUDOS AND AAAAGFAHGAF) im sorry if this ask is dumb or anything but. i had to let u know that u have CHANGED ME lmfao keep up the good work! i wish my brain worked the way yours does xD

Aaaaa it's so flattering to hear all of this anon!!! T-T Thank you so much!! I too very much wish there was a version of my show that was my fic lmao, I would loveeee to see so many scenes animated! Also it makes me SO happy to know that you're telling your friends about The Avatar and the Fire Prince!!! If you ever draw any fan art, pleaseeee mention me in the post and feel free to use "the avatar and the fire prince" and/or "taatfp" as a tag to help me find it! :)

Thank you so much for the encouraging words as well - I try not to get too in my head with worrying about whether or not people will like what I have planned for future plotlines, or if I'm writing in a way that stays true to the spirit/plot of the OG show while still being different enough to be entertaining/engaging... AtLA is such a precious piece of media to me, so I hold myself to very high standards, which can be detrimental when I just want to get a chapter out but I keep rereading it and finding little things "wrong" that need to be fixed lol.

Anyways this is NOT a dumb ask at all anon! I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to send this to me, and I apologize for not getting to it sooner! I've been a bit swamped with asks and comments recently so I've been trying to answer them in small chunks at a time haha

Hope you have a great day, and I'm super excited for you to see what I have planned for the future of TAatFP! :) <3

#asks #my fic #the avatar and the fire prince #taatfp #zukaang #atla #atla au #atla fic

[sunlightwoo]

YOU’RE IT FOR ME: GOODNIGHT N GO - chapter ten

summary: you’ve seen him around campus plenty of times, and even in your own local cat cafe that you work at. if it weren’t for the fact that he was your childhood friend, you would’ve believed that he was just some other popular person on campus. however it seemed as though the universe may have had other plans for you as to never being able to catch him alone.

wc: 539 | No warnings, just fluff and a smidge of angst!!

masterlist | previous | next

“He keeps calling me.” 

You watch as Kai laughs at the caller id that kept showing up on your phone, before pressing the button to once more decline your roommate’s call knowing that he would’ve yelled at you guys on the other line. The both of you had been hiding out at one of the cafes that was actually close by to where the three of you had been earlier, had both you and Kai not run around the many alleys to get Soobin lost. 

Now you were both sitting in one of the booths enjoying your treats and drinks as the sun was slowly beginning to set outside the window that was beside you. 

“How long do you think it’ll take for him to realize that he also has my shared location?” You joke, glancing at the taller person that was sitting across from you and you took notice of the mischievous, but also nostalgic smile that was on his lips. 

“You never changed, haven’t you?” He suddenly says, making you look up at him in confusion as he gives you a look that no longer holds his smile. 

You can still see the sadness in his eyes that you first saw last time that you had hung out with him; he regretted not reaching out to you sooner when he knew that you were still out there, but at the same time it had also been your fault. You had been the one that was creating the distance between you two, having it grow more and more to stall the timer that was counting down the time on your wrist. 

If you were to look at it now, it would be zero because like your friends have predicted, the boy sitting in front of you was your rightful soulmate. You just weren’t sure whether or not he had believed in it, the same way that you had once perceived it when you were kids.

“Hey, remember when we both predicted that we were soulmates as kids?” He suddenly voices out, bringing you back to reality as you took in what he had just said. 

Did he…

“I haven’t found mine yet, or I don’t think I have,” He sighs, and you knew that this was him thinking out loud based on his tone of wanting to change the topic and atmosphere surrounding you both. 

“I wonder if they’re still out there.”

Now it was your turn to feel a bit guilty, because here he was, wishing for his soulmate to appear when they were right there in front of him; you. You should’ve told him a long time ago when you had first known, but if anyone were to look at the two of you now, they’d know that the two of you were completely different people, that were meant for alternative lives. 

“Maybe you’ll find them someday. They can’t be that far,” You reassured, giving him a small smile as you gently squeezed his hand that was on the table, but you couldn’t help but feel the sparks that shot through your fingertips at the small action. 

“Let’s finish these delicious goods and head out soon, Hyuka. I don’t think Soobin is that far away anyways.”

taglist: @allyg-onz​ @viastro​ @bbanghoonie​ @wooyoung-a​ @pwttychannie​ @sunwoahkim​ @karsohn​ @escapewriter​ @awfullytiredbuthealing​ @fylithia​ @whereisgyu​ @myluv-yeonjun​ @groovybiscuitdiplomatpeach​ @allorysayshi​ @jannine00742​ @rebsmoonn​ @day6andetcetera​ @jjhmk​ @ilvaussie​ @99cyj​ @pinkheadflowers​ @butterflx​ @biuebinnie​ @ja4hyvn​ @noempathyy​ @msxflower​ @ashxxkook​ @wccycc​ @kurosism​ @ahnneyong​ @melodymyangel​  @bluesoobinnie​ @chaersfluff​ @veno-mous​ @bambi-vixey​ @soobprised​ @comic-wanda​ @hyuka-luvbot​ @jaxavance​ @to-mi-yo​  @i-yeseo​ @artgukk​ @philanarose​ (add yourself to the taglist here or send an ask/dm!!)

cannot tag: @i-just-woke-up-in-my-underware @brinnalaine @cowboyjaehyun @soobin-chois @iovaki @ineedaherosavemenow @kpoploverforever27 @luv-ivi @yurikkiri @goodsoobgonebad @flowergirl95 @sha-aesthic

#ficscafe #txt imagines #txt scenarios #txt fluff #txt angst #txt series #txt social media au #txt x reader #txt #hueningkai #hueningkai imagines #hueningkai scenarios #hueningkai fluff #hueningkai angst #hueningkai x reader #hueningkai series #you're it for me #goodnight n go

[juniperhillpatient]

Sozin's Comet Part 4: Avatar Aang Re-Watch

Wow, I'm so sad that this rewatch is over. This show means so much to me, & I've had such a great time revisiting it. Alright - let's get into the final episode. The battles are underway & everything is as high stakes as possible. I'm just going to say that I know pretty much all of us have a lot of valid criticisms of the way that this show was wrapped up, but I still love it overall & I still think the final episode is just a fantastic conclusion with beautiful fight scenes & a lot to love.

The air battleship showdown is freaking intense. The scene where Sokka is hanging onto Toph's hand & he says "I don't think boomerang is coming back. This is the end," is just insanely scary & emotional - these kids really did think that they were about to die. Suki gets +2000 iconic behavior points for rescuing them. I loved "did boomerang come back?" "no! Suki did!"

[id: Suki smiling as she stands on an airship. end id]

I love that this finale really did give everyone their badass moments. Toph gets +1000 iconic behavior points for using metal bending to steer the ship, & Sokka gets +1000 for giving up his space sword to save Toph.

Aang Vs. Ozai, well, that's just a fantastic battle. The animation, the music, the voice acting, the fight itself it's all just so good. I mean, I have to give Aang a lot of iconic behavior points for saving the world & doing it on his terms. +3000.

[id: a scene from Ozai & Aang's final battle. Aang's tattoos are glowing, & he is yanking Ozai's goatee. end id]

I already said in my last recap post that I think that Aang finding a way to defeat Ozai while staying true to his cultural identity & maintaining air nomad values is the most satisfying conclusion the show could possibly come to. However, I would like to add that this is a pretty grim fate - possibly worse than death. In this show, bending isn't just a thing you can do, it's part of who you are. Aang taking Ozai's bending was not done lightly, nor should it have been. I just think that this was a very narratively satisfying way to conclude this epic final battle & while I totally get critiques of it, I don't think there's anything I would change. Maybe the lion turtles could've been brought up sooner? But I also liked the way energy bending was explained & it made sense to me, so that's like, actually me digging for something to critique. I loved this final battle.

The final Agni Kai...And its aftermath. Azula has completely lost it after almost killing her brother. She tries to stop Katara from helping Zuko, & goes after Katara herself instead. This battle is just absolutely haunting & beautiful. It's tragic, it's intense, it's beautifully animated, the music & voice acting is amazing, & it's just a well-written battle. I wish the show had leaned more into the fact that Azula & Katara are foils - younger sister prodigies who overshadow their insecure older brothers, with distant father figures & missing mothers.

[id: Katara putting chains on Azula's wrists. end id]

It's been said before (I can't remember by who) that Azula "loses to a better version of herself" & I think that's a harsh way to put it because it's not like Azula had a chance to be anything different than what she is (that's what's so tragic about her) but it's narratively true that the only one who could ever beat Azula is her foil who was given the chance to be strong in ways she could not. I remember holding my breath the first time I watched this showdown. It's just so beautiful & sad.

***Edit to say that I'm coming back because I totally forgot to give out points. Katara & Azula each get +2000 iconic behavior points for one of the most intense battles on any show ever.

I go back & forth constantly on how I feel about Zuko as Firelord at the show's conclusion but ultimately...I enjoyed the scene where he & Aang promise to restore peace, balance & love to the world the first time that I watched & I enjoyed it this time. It's a good scene, even if I could hem & haw about whether I like this conclusion for Zuko or not all day.

[id: Zuko & Aang, in the Fire Nation Palace. end id]

I really loved the parallel of "we're friends." "yeah, we are friends" compared to "do you think we could have been friends if we knew each other back then?" *cue Zuko fire-bending.* The way that Aang & Zuko have developed & grown & the way that their relationship has evolved really is the heart of the series.

Now - the part that I flat-out hate. I think I know when to be charitable to the writers versus when to call them out, & the scene between Zuko & Ozai? I didn't like it the first time that I watched & now I hate it. I'm not a big comics or graphic novel person, it's just a taste thing. And I'm pretty much against post-series extra content, no matter the fandom, just like, in general. I just think stories should be allowed to end. SO, the first time that I watched the show with limited knowledge of the comics? I was vaguely annoyed that we got this obvious advertisement for them instead of something else more meaningful in the final episode. But, I didn't know what the comics were like so I was kinda "whatever" about it. Now that I know how fucking stupid the comics are? Bruhhhh. Fuck this stupid scene.

We could've easily had a scene with Azula instead. And yes, Azula is my favorite character, but I also feel like I'm pretty reasonable about her arc & not like, totally blinded by loving her or anything. I'm not actually opposed to Azula having a somewhat tragic/ambiguous end. I don't think she & Zuko should've hugged it out after the Agni Kai or that she should've immediately been shown as besties with the Gaang or anything. I just think we should've gotten a scene where Zuko - maybe with Katara by his side - visits Azula, & it's shown that he does want to see her heal. THIS post from @theowritesfiction already discusses how this should have happened as well as a number of other valid critiques of the finale, but I wanted to bring this up too in my own post too.

A N Y W A Y. Yeah, that's really my biggest critique, & it's all about that one scene. I actually love the finale for the most part. I totally understand the critique I've seen pretty often from a lot of you that Mai & Ty Lee were shown as good guys way too fast but like...Guys, I WISH there was a Book 4. I do. There's so much that could've & should've been expanded on. But there isn't. So....yeah, I'm glad we saw Zuko & Mai happy together. Ty Lee becoming a Kyoshi Warrior was definitely out of nowhere but I still prefer seeing Ty Lee happy with new friends to just not appearing & viewers being left to wonder if she's rotting in prison. I pretty much think the writers did the best they could with the time they had there.

The final scene at the Jasmine Dragon, well, as someone who's made no secret out of my distaste for the Katara/Aang romance, you'd think I'd hate it. But I actually don't hate it at all (the scene itself that is, not the kiss, the kiss is stupid & out of nowhere.)

I like that we get to see a final scene of the Gaang all hanging out though. I thought it was a cute & funny lighthearted way to end the show. I loved the group just hanging out & the implication that visits like this will be often & they will all be friends for life. At heart, I'm a sap.

Anyway, I'm sad to say goodbye to this rewatch. It's been so much fun revisiting this show.

#sozin's comet part 4: avatar aang #sozin's comet part 4 #atla book 3 #atla re watch

[calliettes-posts]

okay so contrary to what many fans feel like (even me for the longest time), i'm actually starting to feel quite okay with the door thing being dragged out. solely bc we are watching teenagers in real time. It was anaïs' first ever crime and she was stuck between two of the people she loves most. i wouldn't have known what to do either at that age. I honestly feel like it's really realistic that she walked around with it for that long. okay granted, im still pissed at some of the writing choices, bc they made Bobbie loose all of her well roundedness as a character and im still pissed af they added that SA storyline. and the fact that it's again the black girl that has to take everyone into consideration. like pls how much shit did they throw on her this season? (maybe bv we called ada's season a snoozefest?? idk?) but i'm really feeling okay with everyting. between a&b too. They've reconciled and honestly there's still a lot they have to figure out, but i'm fine with that being something we'll see snippets of in the next season. i'm trying to channel my inner 16 yo. If i would have gone through the same shit they've encountered i wouldn't be where they are. they are actually willing to listen and grow!! we've seen this in bobbie and their friends! i'm actually so done with the narrative that everyone is shitty to anaïs. they're only just starting to navigate their way into adulthood. they've been noticing shit! shit man i was a depressed fuck going out with fake ID's and at one point i fell in love with a girl while still dating another. but still hella insecure and i was pretty bad at making friends irl so i spent most of my time on here. my life was freaking messy too. as a viewer it's easy to want shit resolved or see progression sooner bc it's more entertaining to watch. but i feel like they've done a great job taking in consideration we are watching them in real time. (if we forget how shitty the wtfock team is with their social media, i'm begging again, hire one of us pls). idk i'm just really happy to see this kind of representation in an original season. let's not forget we all loved sobbe, zoenne and like in other countries the other remakes bc it was tried and tested!! Imo wtfock had really redeemed itself after ada's season and they've taken notes from druck and skam france. good notes. end of rant.

That's actually a very interesting take, I haven't thought about it this way tbh. I think my biggest problem was that they added dramatic plots and dragged them out, just to resolve them in 1 minute clips, like why was there so much build up just for it not to matter in the end? And with the door plot, my biggest issue was that we saw the same conversation over and over again, but tbf, like you said, it kind of makes sense for Anais to act this way, i just wish theyd put more emphasis on her dilemma, if that makes sense, and if we had more social media, maybe I would've felt differently Also I felt like they put too much importance on Hanne and Bobbie instead of Anais, the actual main, because we had lots of plot lunes for her established in the first season, just to abandon in the 2nd half, and quickly resolve them last minute, and let's not even talk about the sa plot, that was so unnecessary

Tbh, I also think Anais season is way better than Adas, especially the first half of the season, it was more entertaining to watch, and the plotlines were all connected with eachother

#wtfock #ask #anaïs davis #bobbie de bruyn #anobbie #tw: sa

[italic-doing-random-shit]

im too lazy to read all those questions so all of them

well fuck here we go

~

this took me three days-

1: Whats your biggest insecurity?

I've got three; my body(I feel too feminine), peoples true feelings in me, and my work ethic and effort

2: Biggest physical insecurity?

My chest/torso area

3: Do you like the person your becoming?

Yeah, I like the life I'm working towards is good and i can't wait to live in it

4: Whats the one thing that you thar everyone but you can do?

Actually get peoples attention irl, my voice isn't very loud

5: Do you suffer from anxiety/depression/ptsd/etc?

Yes, I used to, and I think so.

6: Where were you born?

Southern Texas, much more humid

7: What do you think people say behind your back

No good stuff, but that might be the anxiety

8: Do you look up to anyone?

Not really, most of my idols were shitty

9: What makes you feel guilty?

Do not get me started, I can start feeling guilty for someone's tone towards me

10: Boring hobby you enjoy?

Watching gaming videos

11: Do you like who you are around people

No, not really. I'm often forgotten and not included because I'm to anxious to start a conversation

12: Future plans?

Go to art school, start a comfy, domestic life

13: Tell a secret

I hate celery

14: Whats an embarrassing event your still really petty about?

I once got in trouble for involuntarily screamed during sex ed because there were pictures

15: Do you get wonderlust?

YES. EVERYWHERE ALL THE TIME

16: Romantic prefernce

I prefer women/femenine people, but I am not closed to anything

17: How many parents do you have?

Four, two step and two bio

18: Do they get along?

No, not really. My dad and mom can never communicate and cause me to mediate since I was little. Plus, my step mom and dad often scream at eachother

19: Do you swear?

Fuck yeah

20: How many siblings? Relationship with them?

Four step siblings, two sisters, both older, two brothers, on older and one younger. I'm very close with my younger brother, Bold. I'm not very close with my older siblings, as they are on my dads side.

21: Ever hurt someone emotionally?

I really try not to unless they have hurt me badly enough, but I have had to turn people down.

22: Has someone hurt you emotionally?

Constantly

23: Do you believe in the afterlife?

Yeah! There's gotta be something after this!

24: What lies do you believe anyways

That my friend is straight, he sent a group chat that I was in a bunch of thirst traps

25: Do you consider yourself to be poor, average, or wealthy?

I'd consider my family to be better then average but not wealthy

26: tattoo meanings?

Id like a flower tattoo of something meaningfull, I'm not sure yet however

27: How many friend groups do you have? How do they vary?

I don't really have friend groups, but my irl friends vary so much

28: Do you work?

Not quite, I have a practicum do school however

29: do you want a partner for life?

Yes

30: Who have you never forgiven?

Nobody

31: What are you looking forward to now?

Long term: Meeting all of you and giving you all cupcakes

Short term: I'm going out of town soon

32: If there's anything you could've changed about your past, what would it be?

I wish I didn't show as much academic potential then what I truly have when I was younger. Less stress and maybe I could've been diagnosed sooner

33: favorite color

RED LOVE RED

34: Unpopular opinion

I don't like pizza, unless its hiiwain

35: Last good book you read

To kill a mocking bird, as boring as it was to read for school, it was still good

36: Favorite book

Wishtree

37: Favorite poem?

Don't have one

38: Favorite movie?

Luca

39: Favorite song?

This rotates very often, but currently, Partners in crime by Set it off

40: Favorite kind of food?

Sweet and chewy

41: What kind of food trigger your gag reflex?

No foods. But when I bone breaks and you can see the break, ill need a moment

42: What are you missing in your life

As fucking cheesy as it sounds, you guys. I don't like the majorit of people here and i need to hug you all

43:if you could chose your name—

I did, it’s Parker

44/45/46: earliest/recent/beautiful Dream you remember having?

I don’t dream

47: do you have a car?

nope! I’m not able to legally allowed to drive and I have hamaxophobia

48: are you scared of death?

nope, it happens to all of us. I just don’t want to speed up the process

50: Dream job?

I would love to create something like TADC, lackidasiy, or something like that. I’d love to create the story and work on the animation

51: are you religious?

Kinda, I grew up with a Christian belief, but I don’t affiliate with any specific religion. I believe there’s something out there, but not anything specifically.

52: how do you calm yourself?

distraction, if I get my mind off of what’s bothering me, then I’ll be fine

53: most annoying thing that happens daily

my bones popping and hurting

54: urban, suburban, or rural

Urban

55: one talent you wish you had?

I wanna play piano

56: do well or struggle in school?

depends on the class

57: speech impediment?

I have a bit of a stutter when I speak because I’m thinking to fast

58: most terrifying thing that ever happened to you?

getting outed without my consent

59: Happiest day of your life?

Meeting all of you, especially Zain

60: early, on time, or late?

yes

61: quirks?

None that I can think of, most that are visible is just me stimming

62: do you wish you could start tomorrow with a clean slate?

I mean, don’t I already do that every morning. In a sense of course

63: do you ever get paranoid?

yes quite often

64: do you believe in human souls?

kinda??? I mean, I think people are born with certain personality characteristics, but also I think it can be altered by environment

65: what’s a mistake you’ll never make again

making a chocolate pie and trusting certain people

66: what fandoms do you belong to?

utmv mainly, but I enjoy anything that you guys and gals bring me

67: Old urls

Used to be CallMeAdam, i was rotating through names I'd like to call myself, but I much prefer Parker and Italic now

68: How often do you lie?

A lot. Compulsively. Only to teachers and parents.

69: do you like the attention you get?

mostly, there’s some that I don’t like but that’s mostly irl attention

70: are you dating someone? What’s your favorite thing about them?

I am indeed! I love her confidence, but I adore everything about her

71: are you concerned about the environment?

yes

72: what stresses you out most?

Drama that gets blown out of proportion, school, going to my dads

73: credit, debit, EBT, or cash

cash. It’s much harder to track back to me

74: favorite historical figure?

I don’t know his name, but the dude who consumed his entire supply of pervirtin or however you spell it

75: what’s a movie you know is bad but enjoy anyways

Big, it’s awful but so funny

77: what’s your kink?

got a few; praise, dominance, and a few others I will only mention in private

78: what’s the on thing you don’t feel comfortable doing around friends?

there’s a lot of things, but talking is a big one

79: most prized possession?

heart necklace

80: are ever proud of yourself?

sometimes

81: do you ever tear yourself down?

yep

82: do you ever tell people how you feel?

maybe, depends

83: do you like it when people guess how you feel?

depends. If you’re wrong, im punching you(unless we’re joking around). If your right, then it make both of our lives so much easier

84: are you worried about someone close to you?

constantly, we’re all mentally I’ll and I’m way too empathetic for my own good

85: How many interview questions do you answer to yourself?

I don't exactly understand what this is asking, but I have done interviews before so just standard questions about my art work and life

86: if you could meet anyone living or dead, who would it be?

you already know who I’m going to say

87: if I had a clone of myself, and there’s not enough resources, would you get along?

most likely, im am very self sacrificing when it come to my mental and physical health

88: what kind of things confuse you

it can be anything if you try an describe it to me verbally

89: are to hot or too cold?

yes

90: What time period, other then the current one, would you like to be in

Well, probably somewhere in the 1500's,

91: what’s your sign? Does it match you?

Aquarius, and kinda

92: do you believe in astronomy?

no, but I still find it to be really interesting

93: do you like extreme activities?

some, im not very. Brave.

94: are you waiting for someone to save you?

not really, I want to save myself and bring others with me

95: can you remember the last time you had a deep connection with someone?

yeah, with panda on Sunday. It felt like talking to my future self/pos

96: do you like where you grew up?

nope! Terrible for my asthma, never felt accepted by people irl, plus a terrible problem with cis men being asshole and weird

97: favorite word

moonstruck; the incapability to be normal from being deeply enamored or in love with something or someone

98: do you think your interesting?

yeah!

99: what people do you wish knew me better?

my parents, all four of them. Maybe I’d be happier if they understood

100: are you okay?

not really, but I’m working towards being better

101: what’s been going on in your mind lately?

lotsa ideas for animations

#asks #tunny!! 🩷 #Fucking christ

[feverinfeveroutfic]

sunburn | desert rose

“I’m so glad you could come along.”

It had been some time since he had last seen Sam, especially after the two of them had returned to the opposite sides of the state in the meantime: it would be a whole day trip just down to Los Angeles from the Bay Area alone, but then he had to hop onto a boat to reach Catalina Island as well on top of that, plus he had to hitch a ride on top of that given he had yet to earn his driver’s license.

It was the whole feeling of being unable to see your best friend after a great length of time: Sam was tucked away in the house on Catalina while her mother worked on her latest manuscript and without really anywhere else to go in the meantime as well. The one day came along when she called him up to ask him about what he had planned to do for the next weekend, and he was eager to tell her that he had nothing on his plate for the time being.

He and Louie hitched a ride over to the Reno-Sparks area, especially since Zelda was going to be there as well. Chuck and Eric had their giggles about it as well, but they had to promise not to tell Louie’s girlfriend while they were away; Eric wanted to come along but there was a far amount of work to do on Legacy’s, now known as Testament’s, new album, especially with Metallica having dropped Master of Puppets the month before. Meanwhile, Alex stayed in the front seat of the car with his long beautiful jet-black hair billowing in the wind and with the sunglasses covering his eyes, all without a care in the world, especially once he and Louie reached the northern edge of Reno and made their way down to Virginia City. Sam had hinted at a little surprise of sorts once they showed up outside the Julia Bulette Café.

It had been quite some time since those two boys had last visited that whole area as well, and the first time they had gone through that canyon due south of Reno, through the hillsides and those lush, low bushes in junction with the sparse grasses that sprouted up with the recent rouses of rainfall over the course of the past winter, so the whole area seemed alien to them. A couple of boys trekking along through the hills as if they were on some wild quest to find buried treasure, Louie’s car hummed along the little two-lane road until they reached that stretch of desert land right smack in the center of the hillsides. The mouth of Sutro Tunnel gaped off to the left side of the road, but there was the café right at the northern edge of the ghost town that rose in the face of the silver mine around the same time of as the California Gold Rush.

“Apparently, it’s also a sex museum,” Louie told Alex once they passed the mouth of the tunnel.

“What, the café?” Alex asked him with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Eric and I were reading about it the other day—it’s like an old western style saloon complete with a makeshift brothel right next door.”

“Ah, man. I assume I won’t be able to go inside for at least another few months.”

“We’ll sneak ya in,” Louie teased him. “You could also just say you’re eighteen, too.”

“Times like this I wish I still had that fake ID from a couple of years ago,” Alex said with a sly smirk.

“Whatever happened to it?” Louie asked him as they slowed down at the northern side of the town.

“Lost it at Ruthie’s,” Alex replied with a nudge of his sunglasses up the prominent aquiline bridge of his nose. “Jeff—Becerra—and I were at the back of the room watching Exodus perform and I literally felt it fall right out of my pants pocket. I’m glad he and I got in otherwise because they were great that night.”

They reached the narrow dirt parking lot on the side of the wooden building there on the right side of the road: no sooner had Louie switched off the car when Zelda’s head of short black hair topped with shiny silvery sunglasses emerged from behind the corner.

“There’s my girl!” Louie exclaimed, and he and Alex climbed out of the car in unison. A gust of wind swept up Alex’s black curls all around his head: he had just dyed the little pearl of gray hair at the crown of his head that solid black, and thus, he hoped that Sam wouldn’t notice the fact that he had covered it up. Then again, she was older than him, and he wasn’t even old enough to hold a beer bottle much less kiss her on the mouth.

They had met Sam as well as Aurora, Marla, Belinda, and Zelda the year before back at L’Amour in New York, and the second that Alex laid eyes on her, he could feel his heart beating faster, and he could feel the heat rising up inside of him. It was a feeling he couldn’t shake, and yet there was no way of telling anyone about it, either. He was just a boy still: what did he know about love?

Indeed, as he and Louie strode on over to meet up with Zelda, he could feel her presence around the corner. Her long hair twirled in the high desert wind and she wore that hat upon her head to accentuate it. It belonged to Cliff, but he and Louie both knew that it was for her. Her face lit up at the sight of him, and he knitted his knees together a bit to show off the slight curve to his hips.

“Hi, Alex,” Sam greeted him: that muddied California accent that, at one point was tiresome for him and yet she had resurrected it and polished it in the loveliest way possible.

“Uh, hi, Samantha,” he returned the favor, and he knew that his face was turning bright red at the utter sight of her before him. He couldn’t help it at all.

“I’m so glad you three could come along here to beautiful Virginia City,” she told him as well as Louie and Zelda. “My parents and I used to come here all the time when I was little and now that I’m old enough, I decided to invite you guys here to Julia Bulette’s after they’ve renovated the place—”

Alex couldn’t help but imagine himself on top of her as she led them into the cozy café and saloon. She belonged to Cliff but the feeling was driving him out of his mind, and more so at the thought of them sitting so close to the sex museum. They sat together at the heavy dark finished wood bar with the matching bar stools to go with it all. While Sam and Louie were of drinking age, he and Zelda could sit there together as long as they served up food.

“Yeah, I don’t turn twenty-one for another couple of years,” she told him. “December thirtieth, no less!”

“At least you’re more than barely legal,” Alex pointed out, and she burst out laughing.

“I really am,” she said with a tuck of a lock of black hair behind her ear. Zelda was like a little elf with her small, slightly pointed ears and slim, wiry body: her hands almost seemed too big for her arms.

“It’s funny, you don’t really strike me as a drummer,” he pointed out.

“I’m tryin’ to put on some weight,” she told him. “Just a few pounds to help me play better. I feel like I can’t keep up most days.” She turned her head towards him: Alex spotted the crown of Sam’s head on the other side of Louie. When he looked past Zelda, he flitted the quickest glimpses into those big brown eyes. Something inside of there, a feeling that he hadn’t seen all too often. Maybe it was the way in which that her face lit up whenever Louie said something humorous to her. Maybe it was the way that they seemed so innocent and yet so ancient at the same time. He wanted to drink down the feeling that resided within, and yet it seemed so out of reach.

He was a boy with a crush, and yet he knew in his heart that that was all he would ever be in the end.

“Alex? Alex!”

He shook his head about and glanced down at Zelda and the slight smirk on her face.

“Penny for your thoughts, big boy?”

“Penis for your thoughts? Is that what you said?” Louie joined in right then and the four of them burst out into an uproar of laughter.

“Penny for your thoughts, Lou!” Zelda exclaimed as her face turned bright pink. The bartender strolled on up to them with a big grin on her face and two glasses in hand, one with a creamy white drink with ice and the other looked like just a straight beer.

“Virgin screaming orgasm?” Sam raised her hand, and Alex nearly choked on his own spit at the sound of that.

“And a beer!” Louie drummed his fingers on the edge of the bar in excitement. The bartender then picked up two more bright red glasses lined with maraschino cherries from the speedwell next to them.

“And a couple of Roy Rogers,” she declared as she set the glasses before Alex and Zelda. When she turned her back, Zelda reached into her pocket for something small and slender.

“Hope no one notices,” she whispered to Alex as she unscrewed the cap and poured in a dark liquid into her drink.

“Oh my god, really?” he demanded.

“Relax, it’s just sarsaparilla,” she scoffed as she put the cap back onto the flask. “Coke’s always been a little too strong for me.” She then chuckled at him. “What, did you think I had booze in here?”

“Maybe,” he quipped as he picked up his glass and sipped it down. The sugar from the Coke made him shake his head about. “Yeah, that’s awful strong.” Zelda took off the cap again and poured some inside. He gave it a quick stir with the straw before the bartender could return and catch them with something from the outside. He then took another sip, and right then, he caught the bite of alcohol in there.

“Whoa,” he breathed.

“Now it’s a Pimm’s cup,” she whispered to him, and flashed him a wink.

“Thought you said it was sarsaparilla?” he sputtered, and he could already feel himself slipping.

“It is, but there’s a little kiss of gin in there,” she whispered to him. “I just didn’t want the bartender to hear.”

“You snuck that in?” He hiccuped. He was without a doubt a lightweight.

“Babes, I’m from New England—we work hard, we play hard.”

Alex looked down at his glass of Roy Rogers, now spiked with the tiniest bit of gin. He didn’t want the drink to go to waste, and thus, he drank it down as fast as he could while he still enjoyed it and kept anyone from giving him odd looks. He was a teenage boy in a saloon next door to a sex museum and the girl whom he had a crush on was two people away from him.

That is, until Sam herself wanted to show them the museum in question, the doorway of which stood right across the room from them. But Alex stayed there at the bar with the Roy Rogers right there in front of him, to which he kept the straw rested upon his bottom lip, as if he was still a young boy who had come there with his parents. 

And yet, he was alone there at the bar. The bartender had gone into the back room behind the mirrored, brightly lit back wall of the bar, and the three of them were enjoying themselves together in that sex museum.

He was still seventeen but no one was looking.

“Welcome to manhood, I guess,” he muttered to himself, and he picked up the glass and ambled across the floor. The drink had filled his slim belly to where it felt as though a big dead weight resided within him. He rested his free hand on his waist to steady himself, and he staggered over to the swinging doors there. Deep rich red lights washed over the crown of his head, a more intimate feeling to everything as well as their four precious bodies congregate inside of there out of mere curiosity.

Alex stood in the doorway of the sex museum, and the only things he was missing were his cowboy boots and a matching hat.

“Oh, my god,” he breathed. Sam, who stood right by the doorway with the glass of virgin screaming orgasm, showed him a smile.

“I’m glad you came,” she told him in a near whisper.

 A soft rustling noise caught his ear as the four of them stood there at the front part of the rather small, intimate museum: the walls were all smooth and rich in appearance, and they seemed to close in on them in there, the vast dark cavern that gave him so many feelings the more that he thought about it. Alex kept his attention to Sam with his lips slightly parted, and she kept her gaze fixed on the conspicuous patch of black over his forehead. A small vein in a dark tapestry of blackness that riddled about his head in a thick, lush helmet, and yet, he knew for certain that Sam could see it for herself given the fact that his hair there did not grow the same way as the rest of his hair.

She sniffed the side of his face.

“Do I smell a little booze on you?” she asked him, still in a low whisper.

“No,” he assured her.

“You sure?” She flashed a glance over at Zelda, who was checking out some old lingerie from the Gold Rush era on display with Louie at her side.

“Positive,” Alex promised her. Zelda and Louie bowed ahead, but Sam led Alex over to the corner right next to the doorway to keep him in the shadows, away from prying eyes, be it the bartender or from someone else who desired to come into the saloon for any reason. Alex downed the rest of the dirty Roy Rogers while Sam polished off the rest of her virgin screaming orgasm.

“I feel like we could at least have some time to ourselves,” she said, and her voice swept over his soft smooth skin. “I saw you looking at me back there.”

“You’ve read my mind, my dear—” Alex could feel her hand on his shoulder, and she nudged him further into the corner, into the safety of the shadows and between two posters for peep shows no less. Alex gazed on at her with his glass down by his hip and nowhere to set it down. Sam put her glass down on the floor and all the while, she never released her gaze from his face, into those crystalline eyes which gazed back at her from the veil of earthy darkness around us: where everything was dry as a bone out there, Alex could already feel the humidity press itself onto his skin. It was like they had gone to the beach instead of the desert.

“Would you mind at all if we had some time to ourselves?” she whispered to him. Alex parted his lips to speak but no sound came out. Zelda hadn’t poured a lot of sarsaparilla into his Roy Rogers but it had dried him out to where he could hardly say a word. 

He had no idea what overcame him. Her body welcomed him as he loomed closer to her. They were behind the corner, out of Zelda and Louie’s sight: as far as Alex and Sam knew, they had disappeared over by the primitive sex toys.

“Please,” he said right into her face, and he moved in closer to her. He rested a hand on her belly and brushed up her shirt: his fingers glided up her skin, and she shivered from the feeling.

“Damn, that’s so soft,” he whispered.

“Just you wait ‘til you touch me below the belt,” she breathed right into his mouth, and he let out a soft whimper right back at her.

Alex pressed his lips onto her own, and he pressed her to the wall to the left of him, right underneath the poster for the peep show. Sam wrapped her arms around his slender waist. His hands glided up her belly to her chest, and then onto her back for the hooks on her bra. His curls fell all around the sides of his head, and the ends brushed against the sides of her own: these frizzy, fuzzy little corkscrews that brushed against her skin. She could feel his hair while he drank down the scent on the crown of her head as well as the sides of her neck.

Alex could feel something there between him and Sam. Something he couldn’t exactly put into words. It was a genuine connection with something else, a feeling that someone like Zelda wasn’t telling him a whole manner of things while he was there with Sam. It was as if his body had a mind of its own and all his feelings intertwined in a delicate web within him, and they could wait in his untangling them.

It did. He had his desires, and Sam had her own, and walking along there in silence ignited something so fast between the two of us. If this wasn’t going to make Zelda drink down some more of that sarsaparilla with Louie, then he had no idea as to what would.

“Lord, it’s like making out with the devil himself,” Sam whispered to him in between kisses. And with her, it was like making out with someone who could fit right into his arms. 

He unhooked her bra and then his hands slithered down her sides: his lanky fingers pulsated on the tops of her hips, and she giggled at the feeling. She rested her own hands on his upper back and hooked a knee up onto his hip. The fear of being inside of a dark cave went away right then, and the sound of his own heartbeat filled his ears. The sound of his own heart in his own ears made him think of the ghosts which haunted that very ghost town.

They were watching them. Their eyes were watching them.

Even with the cool feeling of the museum around them, Alex could feel the warmth swell up inside him yet again. The warmth from his own body as well as the warmth from hers there before him.

“I want to make you dinner,” she whispered to him. “The biggest dinner you want for your sexy little belly and then I want to draw your beautiful body.”

“Please,” he said as he lunged in for another round of kisses on those lips.

“I want to give you everything,” she begged him.

“And I want to make you everything,” he whispered, and in a husky low tone as well, a tone that seemed to come right out of nowhere. “Everything and anything you could ever ask for—”

“Please,” she begged to him, and she reached down into the front of his jeans for a feel of that skin there. His skin underneath his belly button that was so soft, but when she caressed down under the waistband of his jeans, he knew that it felt like stroking silk. His hands then slithered around her chest for a feel of her breasts, right under the cups of her bra. Her skin was so unbelievably soft and smooth under there. Silk on silk, satin on satin, darkness topped by a whisper that morphed into a growl.

She gave him a nice hearty fondle with nothing more than her fingertips, and his body shuddered and shook at the feeling. She moved from her fingertips to her palm for the job and he barred his teeth. The pad of his thumb caressed over her nipple, and she gasped. He snickered at that, and then she gripped onto him for doing that.

He moved his fingers down from her breast back onto her belly: she gasped from the feeling as he brought his index finger to her belly button and all its sensitivity. It was almost pointless to remain quiet given every noise, every sound, every single part of it, echoed throughout the sex museum around us. That whole room catalogued sex. For a second, Alex swore that they were surrounded by the ghosts of the loneliest miners from the thick of the Gold Rush. And then he realized they were the real ghosts, and especially when he peeled off Sam’s shirt and pushed it up to her face so she couldn’t see him drop his pants part of the way. She couldn’t see him press his lips onto her nipples, as dark as the earth beneath us.

She writhed underneath him. She had to be coming soon enough. She pushed her shirt off her face, and he raised his gaze from her chest with his tongue out and his face flushed. It was right then she realized that she had let go of him.

Quickly, she reached back down to his underwear, and she let her hand make its way down there again. He held still, complete with a big euphoric grin on his face: though his pants were still on, he could feel himself growing wet from her loving touch.

He was going to come before her and before he turned eighteen no less. He couldn’t believe it.

He held still so she could find it. And then she found the damp spot.

She slipped her fingertip in there for a little fondling. Alex closed his eyes. He panted right into her mouth from the feeling when he stuck his hand down the front of her jeans for a feeling for himself. But it was too little too late for him, though. He could feel himself coming right onto her fingertip before he could do anything more. Sam beat him to the punchline.

He gasped, and then let out a low moan right into her throat. His moan then morphed into a low, gravelly growl, a sound so primeval that even the ghosts that haunted the walls of that museum could hear him.

He shoved his hand down the front of her jeans for a few little twitches on her clit, and she burst out laughing at the feeling. When he touched that little nub of nerves, Sam’s laughter stopped, and she let out a soft low moan as well. She came so fast, and she came so softly and quietly, and it was enough to let a wave of warmth wash over the two of them. It helped that the room was somewhat humid: Alex could feel the warmth and the glow over his forehead and his cheekbones.

Sam raised her head to him, and she, too, had a warm sheen over her face. She put her arms around him, and he let some of those corkscrews fall around the sides of her head. As far as they both knew, Zelda and Louie had never heard them, even though their voices echoed enough through the museum that be heard from the outside. Alex let out a low whistle.

“I’m so glad you could come along,” Sam told him once again, and that time in a low whisper into his ear.

“And I'm glad you could come along, too,” he said with a clearing of his throat. “Dearest Samantha, my dark shadow, my secret face. Let's get out of here before Zelda and Lou see what we’re doing here—”

#spring fever #fever in fever out #fever in fever out fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #testament fanfic #testament band #testament #louie clemente #alex skolnick #alex x sam #smut #smut and humor #one shot collection #also on ao3 #text