#Macho Women with Guns

[73suggestions]

Adriana Torrebejano from Tierra de lobos

#Adriana Torrebejano #Tierra de lobos #Land of Wolves #western #actress #Old West #gun #rifle #macho women with guns #skirt #cool #boots #classy #eyes #Spain #Spanish #2010s #19th century

[oldschoolfrp]

Battlewarmechbots wish everyone to “Have a nice day . . . or else” (Richard Menustik’s mini-poster in Bat-Winged Bimbos from Hell by Greg Porter, final supplement in the satirical Macho Women with Guns RPG trilogy, Blackburg Tactical Research Center, July 1989)  You know, this would be an easy modeling project with some ping pong balls

#Macho Women with Guns #Bat Winged Bimbos from Hell #Richard Menustik #mech #mecha #mechs #gaming humor #sci fi #Blackburg Tactical Research Center #BTRC #Battlewarmechbots #MWWG #Greg Porter #battletech #poster #have a nice day #have a nice day or else #big stompy robots

[enbycxnt]

There’s a game on BoardGameGeek called “Macho Women with Guns”

#macho women with guns

[adventuresinnerdliness]

#Macho Women with Guns #MWWG

[sunandsstars]

More Recom Squad x Reader please! Like how they first met her and stuff, honestly I’d take a whole fic of them 😭😭😭

FIRST MEETINGS

Recombinants x Medic!Reader

Summary: It was love at first sight, a cute little human taking care of them? What more can they ask for.

Warnings: N/A Word count: 1.1k

Taglist: @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @eywas-heir @reneehillary69 @cavvedinn @itsyoboysparkel @doggodorime @dumb-fawkin-bitch

They were soldiers, hard muscle on the outside and hard brains on the inside. They showed no fear, death was their middle name, they never gave mercy and shot who deemed worthy of meeting the end of their guns.

But when they first met their personal doctor they became whipped. It was embarrassing, big macho men and women folding at the sight of a little human woman.

General Ardmore was showing Deja Blu around the main control centres, giving them all the information they lost within the fifteen years they were dead. She strolled into one of the medical centres, it being filled with gurneys, high tech equipment and avatar related items. “And this here is where you will specifically be patched up since no other medic wing deals with anything Avatar”

The team looked around in wonder, there was stuff they’ve never seen even on Hellsgate. They admired the hologram projections and cool lab equipment, touching them with big hands and picking them up to look closer. Zhang held up a Na’vi skull model, twisting it around and raising a brow.

“Excuse me!” a little voice cried out to the right of him, the man tilted his head and spotted a human woman in a laboratory coat, a stethoscope around her neck. He squatted so he could be eye to eye with her “you might wanna put that model down, it’s quite fragile and you might end up breaking it”

Zhang’s tail swished behind him “oh yea, sorry” he gave the too big model to her, it looking huge in her little hands. She thanked him and placed it back onto the table, turning around at the General’s call.

“This is Dr ___, she specialises in Na’vi anatomy and has numerous degrees on medicine. She will be your teams doctor from here on out” ___’s eyes widened, she did not recall this in the job description.

Quaritch turned to her and analysed her form, nodding his head in approval. She was timid but if the General approved then he can’t say no “She’ll do general”

“Good. She’s the best there is. Now if you’ll excuse me” Ardmore turned on her heel and started to walk out “get yourself familiar with one another, I got a meeting to attend” but before she could walk out the door, the little doctor rushed towards her, asking to speak outside.

Wainfleet shared a look with Zdinarsk behind the colonel, raising their brows. She was cute, the human woman. But she didn’t seem to happy to be with them. ___ walked back into the medbay and sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She had no choice but to work with them, no one else could or would.

Ja walked up to her and kneeled to her height “so..I’m Alexander Ja, I’m the squads medic. Nice to have another doc around to help” he raised a hand for her to shake and she took it, five fingers barely wrapping around only two of his and his ears perked. So small. So cute.

“It’s nice to meet you, although I would’ve hoped a heads up beforehand” ___ took her hand back and walked to a table, taking out a folder that was under one of her arms and opening it. Ardmore gave her some information on the recombinants and their mission. To kill Jake Sully. But before then, the aliens would have to stay at Bridgehead for a while and get used to their new bodies.

“You weren’t told you’d work with us?” Mansk stared at her back, yellow eyes raking up and down her figure behind his shades. ___ placed the file down and nodded, turning around to face the team.

“No I wasn’t. But I wont complain. If Ardmore says I have to then I have to” she shrugged, looking at Quaritch “why don’t you guys follow me. I’ll show you around the rest of the place” they all nodded and stood tall, following behind her and taking in their new home, occasionally breathing through their regulators.

“And this is your dormitory. The rooms are specifically designed for your bodies, so bigger beds, bigger showers, taller ceilings. You won’t need your regulators inside the bedrooms since we have a special filtration system, but you’ll need it for the main area” ___ took a keycard from her pocket and swiped on one of the locks on a door, opening it and stepping inside the room.

“Woah.. pretty rad” Fike spun in a circle looking at their new home. The recoms all shared an apartment, but with separate rooms and en suites. They will share a communal area, it was like being back on Earth.

Zdinarsk agreed, opening the fridge and seeing it stocked up to the brim, ears wiggling. They had all the good stuff. Lyle looked at the little lady and asked where she was staying, just in case they might need her for the future.

“I’m just down the hall, apartment 342. You can either knock for me or page me if you need me while we’re off duty” she tapped a device on her hip to show them it’s on her at all times, she was a doctor, of course she’s on call 24/7.

“Thanks for this ___. We haven’t had much…hospitality from the other folks” Quaritch squatted to look at her and patted her head, tail swishing behind him. The other recoms sounded out their agreement, the other members of Bridgehead gave them cold and disgusted looks when they walked past. Much different to the time they were human. But ___ went out of her way to help them, despite showing reluctance at the start. “We look after our own here, you’re apart of our team now”

___ flushed slightly at the affection “thank you colonel”

“Miles, or Quaritch. Whichever you prefer darlin”Wainfleet nudged Brown next to him and wiggled his brows, both of them giggling like little girls. Quaritch rolled his eyes at his soldiers, giving them the finger and smirking when they immediately turned their backs to him. “These two ladies are Lyle Wainfleet and Steve Brown” they both swivelled their heads and waved at the human “that over there is Alicia Zdinarsk. We call her Z-Dog”

“Yeah she’s an absolute hound in the field” Mansk piped up, Z kicked the back of his knee in retaliation but puffed up her chest when ___ smiled at her. “I’m Kevin Mansk, that’s Sean Fike, Andrew Prager and Kim Zhang”

Quaritch grumbled a little, ears pulled down. He wanted to introduce his squad. “It’s nice to meet you all. I hope we’ll get along well” ___ giggled and patted the colonels arm, noting the pouting face. Miles tail swished and repetitively slapped Lyles legs.

“Colonels got a crushhh” Fike dragged out to Prager in a whisper, only to get yelled at by a big, buff angry cat man.

___ grinned at them. Yeah, they’d get along just fine.

#✰ — avatar works — ✰ #avatar the way of water #x reader #atwow #avatar 2009 #avatar x reader #atwow x reader #avatar the way of water x reader #fluff #recombinant #recom quaritch #recom x reader #ja #brown #zdinarsk #colonel miles quaritch #lyle wainfleet #mansk #sean fike

[sassylittlecanary]

Superman (1978) and the Female Gaze

In honor of Superman’s 85th birthday, I got to see the 1978 movie in theaters (!!!) and I realized how much it appeals to the female gaze, which I would NOT have expected for a male-led superhero movie from the 70s.

To elaborate:

I’ve always cringed a little at Lois’ cheesy voiceover during the flying sequence, but I realized it’s actually a whole scene from Lois’ perspective. It gets in her head and explores her thoughts and feelings. It doesn’t portray her as “Superman’s girlfriend” from his perspective, focused on his viewpoint. The entire scene is Superman from Lois’ perspective.

Even the cinematography (especially in that scene but also throughout the movie) caters to the female gaze. There’s so much focus on their hands — Lois and Superman holding hands, Superman gently cradling her face, etc. There’s a focus on eye contact, on body language. Superman’s muscles aren’t emphasized — instead the camera lingers on his eyes and his smile. Through the visuals, both leads are very humanized instead of gratuitously sexualized like many superhero movies ever since.

Also, Christopher Reeve’s Superman emerges as such an unexpected example of positive masculinity. In the late 70s, Family Feud’s host was kissing every female contestant on his show, consent be damned. ERA and the feminist movement were losing ground to the New Right. The macho male hero was already a staple thanks to characters like James Bond and advertising campaigns like the Marlboro Man. Men Were Manly.

In contrast, while Superman is held up as a quintessential “manly male protagonist” admired by many, he very pointedly does not fall into the action hero male power fantasy stereotype of “I’m a tough macho man who affirms my masculinity by harassing and sleeping with lots of women and who expresses emotions by hitting things and yelling at people. Wow look at me punch things and shoot guns! I’m so strong!” Instead, he’s always gentle. He smiles brightly, he laughs, he cracks jokes, he waves as he flies off. He’s a huge guy, but he’s not intimidating unless he wants to be because he’s just so kind and down-to-earth. He’s much more in line with a stereotypically feminine fantasy of a “kind, respectful, warm guy who makes me laugh” rather than the male power fantasy more common in this genre.

There’s also the way female characters are treated. Lois is Superman’s love interest, but she’s also more than that. She’s her own character with her own voice. She’s a tough, snarky, take-charge, no-nonsense, competent career woman who goes after what she wants fiercely. She grouches and rants with her signature attitude, and Clark just stands there smiling at her because he thinks she’s amazing exactly as she is. It’s the fantasy of an independent woman with traditionally “unfeminine” traits who’s loved and celebrated for being herself. Clark doesn’t want to tame her — he adores her and supports her.

In addition, Miss Teschmacher is stereotyped as the villain’s “sexy but a bit dumb” girlfriend/sidekick, yet she’s still allowed some depth. Superman’s treatment of her stood out to me because this woman has helped Luthor endanger innocent people and nearly kill Superman himself, yet he’s still kind and respectful toward her. Because he always treats women like that, no matter who they are or what they’ve done to him. She wistfully says “Why can’t I ever get it on with a good guy?” instead of a toxic one, and he touches her face tenderly and gives her a reassuring smile. He has compassion for her, as well as hope that her life will improve.

There’s also the climax. There really isn’t much violence (it’s all natural disaster stuff). The whole “hero does something dramatic to save his love interest” is a time-honored action movie cliche, but this feels different somehow. It feels more like the climax of a romance movie than an action movie in some ways. Maybe it is, again, the focus on tenderness. On the way Superman cradles Lois’ dead body so gently and then cries. On the way he allows himself to feel, to express his emotions, instead of heading out to punch something as an outlet for his grief. Lois isn’t a love interest to be won — she’s a person to be cherished, which is 100% consistent with the female gaze.

Just, 👏 THE FEMALE GAZE AND POSITIVE MASCULINITY Y’ALL 👏

#genuinely almost started crying while rewatching this movie because it is SO PURE #superman #superman 1978 #clark kent #lois lane #clois #christopher reeve #margot kidder #dc #dcu #dc comics #superman the movie #female gaze #positive masculinity #media analysis

[ohtobeleah]

Okay but the idea of Bob getting to the point where he has to throw hands to protect you is so hot. Purely because you just know it’s not in his nature.

Another Statistic // Bob Floyd

Word Count: 5.1k

Warnings: hey guys so a major trigger warning on this one for sexual assault. Please read at your own discretion and please remember that this is a work of fiction. Angst is what I do.

***~***~***~***~***~

This really got out of control For this one we need to go back to the beginning of the story.

Robert Floyd didn’t drink alcohol for a few reasons. None of them really being all too life changing, for one he just didn’t like the burning sensation that came along with liquor, and beer just out right made him feel sick. He’d tried a few fancy cocktails here and there—all enjoyable until the sugar wore off or until the next morning. But there was one reason why Bob was always the designated driver, one reason why he always had a plan A, a plan B and a plan C. There was a reason why he preferred water or a glass of Lemonade, Fanta or Coke while at dinners, clubs or bars and there was a reason he never really caved to the societal pressure of drinking with your peers after a long day, or social gatherings where alcohol seemed to be in abundance.

The simple answer to all Robert Floyd’s why’s, the question ‘you aren’t drinking man?’ Had a more simple answer that could easily be shortened down to one word. One person actually.

You.

Bob chose a long time ago that he’d be happy to never drink again if that meant he could protect you. And that’s not to say Bob had ever been some macho Johnny Bravo protector. No. Bob in his very nature was a back seater. He was very much a back seater in all aspects of life, a wallflower. But god Bob would run out into the line of fire any day if it meant taking a bullet that was meant for you. He’d do anything for the love of his life, his best friend. And he has and always will continue to.

“And who would this lovely lady of the sea be?” Like the wallflower he was, Bob had had enough time to get a pretty good read on the type of man Jake Seresin was. He'd come to the conclusion he was happy he hadn’t encountered the man who had an ego the size out Mt Everest. What Bob couldn't see coming from a million miles away would be the fact Jake Seresin would become a bigger part of his life then he could ever picture. A trusted colleague, a good friend and above all? Godfather to his child but we’ll touch base on that at a later time. “Bob? Care to introduce us to your friend here? One of Top Guns finest i presume?”

“Uh–” Bob stammered over his words as he cleaned peanut crumbs from his uniform. “This is uh–um i–” Bob watched as you chuckled, passing him your half finished beer as you held out your hand out for Jake to shake gracefully. Bob watched you interact with Jake, his hand slowly coming to find the hem of your naval skirt, twirling the fabric carefully between his fingers. A small yet loving gesture to let you know he was there. He'd always be there. Holding your half drunk beer brought back a memory Bob didn't want to remember. It wasn't a fond memory or one he’d necessarily like to ever talk about again. But for some reason holding your beer watching Jake try to make his move on you just brought the memories flooding back, like a brick wall had fallen on top of him.

*******************************

Woody’s Tavern was the place to be. It was where the majority of the naval academy cadets chose to spend their free time. Drinking away the pain for fitness tests and long gruelling days learning how to operate navigation systems, perform Clarence dives and just in general learning how to be Navy men and women. You of course were no exception to the rule.

“Bob, it's a friday night, it's a long weekend, there's no classes on Monday and we don't have another exam till wednesday week!” working to fix your earring you reminded Bob who sat at the end of your bed looking at you like a love struck puppy dog you'd just kicked in the face. “Let loose will ya?”

“It's just not my thing, you know that.” It was Bob's turn to retaliate, reminding you that this was him you were talking to. Bob. Robert Floyd. “I'd rather just, not.” Bob explained briefly. He wanted to tell you that you looked beautiful, that the dress you wore looked nice, respectable yet fun at the same time. He thought the colour made your eyes pop, but that it didn't take away from the fact your smile was the one thing that he couldn't get enough of. But he settled for something that he knew would be low key, that would keep him under your radar. “You look nice though.”

“Thanks–” it made your heart flutter, in fact it skipped a beat as the butterflies in your stomach took off into a million different directions. You were smitten and he didn't even know it. The heat in your cheeks rose as you tried your best to cool your face before turning around to face Bob. “You still okay to pick me up though?” you asked softly, making sure the offer still stood. Bob finished his phone out from his back pocket as he stood, making his way over to you as he turned the ringer off silent, turning the volume up as loud as the device would allow him to do so.

“Just call me when you're ready.” The moment between you and Bob lingered in silence as the gap seemed to be almost nonexistent. Your eyes roamed his face, his body. The simple T-shirt he wore that hung off his chest so perfectly. His eyes roamed your face, your body. He was well and truly fucked if you didnt feel the same way about him, he knew that. So to say nothing was better to say something and risk losing you all together. The friendship you shared was worth more to him then you'd probably ever know. But something bold told him to question why you were looking at him the way you were. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?” You asked, caught out as you shook your head for a second, collecting yourself. “I wasn't lo–”

“You were looking at me! You had a look in your eye!” Bob chuckled as he watched you grab your shoes, a friend picking you up to take you over to the tavern, charlotte.

“Well even if I was you were looking at me too!” you sassed back. “So I don't know what that's all about but whatever it was, it won't happen again.” you rolled your shoulders back. You'd almost been caught red handed literally longing for Bob. a close call.

“Yes ma'am Radar ma’am.” Bob teased as he saluted you, falling back onto your bed. Staying the night so he could keep an eye on the most definite drunk version of yourself that he’d be collecting at all hours of the night. “Just be careful, please?” leaning back on his forearms, Bob looked at you with a serious look in his eyes, suddenly a different vibe lingered between you as he stared at you, drinking you in. “Promise me, what’s the safe word again? Peaches or peechay or something to do with peaches? Isn’t it?” You didn't say anything as you pressed your lips together, holding your purse to your chest, debating whether or not it was a good idea to go for it or not. Throw all corrosion into the wind and let Bob know that you'd come back to him.

Maybe it was the few shots you had to pre game the night, or maybe it was just the fact you loved Bob with all your heart but just couldn't say it. But you were walking closer to where he was sitting on your bed, leaning in and over to give him a gentle kiss on the cheek. Rubbing your thumb over the shade of nude you'd left behind from your lips.

“I'll be fine, but I promise I'll be careful.” stunned into complete silence and shook at what you'd just done. Bob's eyes lit up in pure joy. Coughing to clear his throat a little before he responded in broken english. Forgetting how to speak, how to breathe all at the same time from a simple gesture. “Peachy—I’m just peachy'' is the safe line.” You reminded him.

“Uh, good–yeah um, I'm glad we’re uh, we’re on the same page then.”

“I think we are, aren't we?” you asked. You hoped Bob was talking about the page where you both had mutual feelings but were both too scared to say anything. Not the page where you'd be careful on a Friday night out with friends. “Right?’ asking again as your unanswered question lingered in the air as Bob struggled to take his eyes off you. Opting to do the same thing you'd done just seconds before just slightly more ballsy and way out of his comfort zone. Leaning in to kiss you softly, Bob's lips melted with yours. His hands coming up to cup your checks, the pad of his thumbs softly rubbing your cheeks. A few seconds he'd remember for the rest of his life if this went south. Pulling away slowly, Bob feared opening his eyes. But when he did and he saw you looking back at him trying so hard to hide a smile so bright, his heart grew so much bigger.

“Yeah, yeah we’re on the same page.” Bob whispered. Watching as you stood, fixing yourself up as you made your way to your door. “I'll be here when you get back!” he smirked, leaning right back on your bed, getting comfy.

“Wish you were coming with me!” you cooed. Standing in the doorway. “Sure I can't tempt you?” Bob to this day regretted his next sentence, all he had to do was say sure and everything could have been avoided. Bob liked to tourtue himself over it. A sense of guilt always stayed with him, even years later. He had a chance.

“I'm good, really, maybe next time.” nodding softly, you accepted Bob's stance.

“I'll call you later.” you smiled, shutting the door softly as Bob watched out your bedroom window as you got into Charloots ute. Sighing heavily as he tried to process what just happened. A definite turning point in your friendship would soon be overshadowed by regret and guilt.

********************************************

The night had been going great, you’d been enjoying yourself. Letting loose. You felt like you hadn’t had the opportunity to just forget everything in a long time. The liquor was flowing and flowing fast. The music was pumping, the company was great. You felt like you’d had a real chance to relieve the incredibly serious, incredibly difficult immense pressures you carried above your shoulders. The incredibly toxic mustard shit that was the naval academy. You’d given just within an inch of your life to pass that advanced navigation exam and like fuck were you not going to let your hair down.

But picture this, let me set the scene for you. A game of pool had caught your eye, your whiskey sour slightly spilled over the lip of your glass as you handed it to Charlotte. Taking the pool cue you eyed your target, leaning over the table as you went to shoot your shot, a hand slid up the back of your leg, hovering over your arse. It had your heart pausing, instantly a sudden flush of heat overcame you with fear. Shooting your shot as you stood. Turing to see who was touching you so inappropriately.

“Radar—“ E.T smirked as you leaned back against the pool table. His body was uncomfortably close to yours. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. See the lust in his eyes. “You look great—“ so you’d been told, Bob was probably asleep by now. You wished he was here.

“Watch where those hands fall Leo before I break every last metacarpal in them.” Leo Ward. Call sign E.T because god was he otherworldly in his ability to do anything less than ordinary. He was an exceptional cadet, a fine pilot but he was a pig of a man. It was point blank, black and white knowledge. “I would back all the way off if I were you.” You hissed through gritted teeth.

“C’mon now Radar, you’re here for a good time, I can show you a good time.” Your face contorted in disgust. “Robert not around?” E.T look around for Bob who was usually glued to your hip. Two peas in a pod.

“You’re the last person on the planet I would give it up for, especially after this.” Pushing past Leo you sighed as he smirked. Walking back over the were Charlotte stood completely dumbfounded as she handed you your drink.

“Holy shit—“

“Don’t.” You mumbled into your drink, sinking back the liquor in one go. “Just Don’t—“

“E.T’s fucking plastered.” She chuckled. “God what a pig.” Sipping her own drink you felt a shiver run up your spine. “Should we go? I think I’m done for the night anyway—kinda don’t want to stick around and see who his next victim is if you know what I mean.” Charlotte sighed, knowing Leo probably wasn’t capable of understanding the word no at this point. As you watched him eye you down from across the tavern, you agreed.

“I’ll call Bob.” Fishing your phone from your purse, you hit Bob's name in your phone. ‘Other Half’ holding it up to your ear as the dial tone rang. It didn’t take long for Bob to answer. His voice deep and comforting.

“Bob's taxi service, how can I help you?” Bob teased as he let out a yawn. You couldn’t help but to bite your bottom lip to stop a smirk from plastering your face.

“Can you come pick me up?” You asked softly. The night coming to an end. E.T’s inappropriate behaviour just ruining the mood for you. You were over it. Done.

“Ah, are we done letting loose are we?” Bob sat up, looking for his shirt in the dark of your room, having fallen asleep in the comfort of your bed. “I’ll be there in five.”

“Okay, see you soon?” You replied, holding back the anger and frustration that laced your tone.

“Hey, you alright?” Bob questioned, your tone blunt and sharp as you caught the sight of E.T staring at you. Eyes hungry. You needed to get out of there. “Renee?”

“Yeah, I’m alright, just wanna come home.” You shook it off, remembering that going home meant getting to be with Bob. Something had shifted between the two of you and you were excited to see where things would go. The alcohol in your system suppressing the anxiety of potentially ruining the best friendship you’d ever had. “See you soon, okay? I’ll wait out the front with Charlotte.”

“I’ll drop her home on the way back, see you soon.” Bob was quick to finally find his shirt, shoving it over his head as he grabbed his keys, rubbing the sleep from the corner of his eyes before rushing out to where he car was parked.

Placing your phone back into your purse you lost sight of where E.T had gone, perhaps he’d left? Shaking off the unnerving feelings his presence had left you, you let your hand fall to Charlotte's shoulder as you leaned in.

“Hey Bobs on his way, I’m just gonna go to the bathroom real quick and I’ll meet you outside!” Shouting over the music into Charlotte's ear, she nodded in response. Making your way through the busy tavern full of people you knew with familiar faces at every turn, you pushed open the bathroom door. It was empty. The three stalls all open and unoccupied. Choosing the middle stall you did what you needed to—emptied your very full bladder with a sigh of relief. Your head spinning from all the different liquors you’d consumed. After tonight you’d made a mental note to not mix your liquors.

Footsteps approached the stall beside you but you didn’t think too much into it. Wiping, flushing, fixing yourself up the best you could on slightly wobbly legs, you opened the stall, making a directed line for the sinks to wash your hands. Only to have two rather muscular arms wrap around you from behind. Your first instinct as fight or flight kicked in, you screamed, a hand cupping your mouth shortly after the muffle you, silence you.

“Shhh, shhh easy Radar, you wouldn’t want to ruin the run now would you?” You caught the sight of him in the mirror as you stilled, looking at him through the mirror as he looked back at you. E.T. “Just wanna have a little fun now that we're alone.” Removing his hand from your mouth slowly, Leo let his hand fall to your chest. You froze in fear. “See, now we’re having fun.”

“I don’t wanna do anything with you—“ you whispered through tears. E.T didn’t listen as he pushed you forcefully against the nearest wall. The back of your head smacking harshly against the tiles. “Leo stop—“ you begged. Again, he didn’t listen. His hand coming to squeeze your cheeks together as his other roamed your hips, slowly but surely making its way between your thighs. Fear hitching in the back of your throat.

“I just think that, if you really are gonna fuck your way to the top of the class, wouldn’t you want to fuck someone who could possibly raise your social status? Not some library dweller who probably doesn’t even know where to put it?” Leo smirked as his hand shoved your dress up to your hips. You tried to fight him off but in terms of strength? He dominated. “I’m serious Radar, no one takes you seriously with that bug eyed back seater.” Leo hissed as he started to undo his belt. His hand coming down from squeezing your cheeks to wrap around your neck. Choking you as he restricted your airways. “But me? We’d be unstoppable together, a power couple—“

“Leo, st—stop!” You cried out under the pressure of his hand around your throat. “We—talk, let’s talk!” Throwing you down to the ground, Leo grabbed your wrist above your head as his knees spread yours. Hovering over you as you squirmed. “LEO!!”

“I can make you cum, like nobody else has.” You wanted to throw up. “Not Bob, not anyone.” Leo hissed as he kissed your lips. Shaking him off you didn’t expect him to headbutt you out of rejection. Blood dripped from your nose as your head throbbed. Knocking on the door filling the bathroom.

“Renee you in there?” It was Bob, you knew it was Bob. Unbeknownst to you, E.T had locked the main door, only after having placed a makeshift out of order sign on the door to deter others away. Before you could respond Leo had his hand cupped over your mouth. Smirked Maniacally.

“Just me Rob, don’t even sweat it brother we’re just having some fun.” Leo leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Say yes or I swear to god I’ll beat that fucking guy into nothingness the second I’m done with you.” You knew Leo would, his eyes were so unapologetically dark as he removed his hand. “Aren’t we, Radar?” You hesitated as you let tears fall free.

“Yep! I’m just peachy!” Your voice hitched as you felt Leo’s lips on your neck as his fingers pushed your g-string to the side. “I’m just—just peachy!” You hoped, no. You fucking prayed Bob remembered, but hearing nothing in response you hope diminished quickly. Maybe Bob had been blinded by Jealousy to remember you’d never do anything to hurt him.

“Lover boys all gone now Radar—it’s just you and me.” Leo kissed your collarbone. “Can’t get enough of—“ it came out of nowhere. The door completely ripped off its hinges as Bob shouldered it with his entire being. Crashing into the bathroom with a thud, Bob was quick on his feet as he saw you under Leo in a complete mess. Crying, shaking in fear.

“What the hell, Ward!” Bob shouted as his hands balled into fists, tackling him off you. Straddling his waist as Bob laid into him, one punch after another. Robert Floyd had never been in a fight before, but for you he’d do anything. Blinded by pure unconditional love. “She said no! Didn’t she!?” Bob shouted, holding Leo’s collar. “Didn’t she!” Spitting a mouthful of blood out Leo chuckled before he answered.

“She asked for it the second she put that dress on and you know it, because I know that you know, you were thinking the same fucking thing.” Leo hissed, his teeth stained with his own blood. Bob threw him down. Standing as he left Leo bloodied in the corner of the bathroom. Looking around for you. His knuckles throbbing. You’d run out the second the door was open, flight overpowering fight as you ran through the tavern straight out into the car park. Bob's car was a beacon of safety as you ran straight for it.

“Renee!!” Bob shouted after you as you slid down the side of the passenger door. Of course he fucking locked it. Carefully and ever so slowly Bob reached you, kneeling in front of you as he reached out to cup your cheeks. Flinching for a second you welcomed his touch. Eyes so distant it was like no one was home as Bob tried to catch your gaze. “I’m here.”

“I didn’t want him to touch me—“ you whispered. Sobbing as you tried to hold yourself together. “I didn’t want him to touch me.” You repeated again as Bob nodded, validating you.

“I know, hey—look at me?” Bob cooed. His thumbs working to rub your tears. “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you ever again.” Bob promised. In that moment Bob knew he’d never drink and he’d never not join you at social events. He’d keep you safe. “Your nose looks broken, best case just really swollen?” Bob assessed the damage as carefully as he could. “I think we need to get you to the hospital, just to make sure everythings okay?” You didn't respond to Bob as he stayed kneeling before you, the rocks of the gravel digging into his knees. “Maybe get the police involved, leo should be ch–”

“No police.” Your head lulled to the side in defeat. “It’s Leo Ward, nothing will happen to Leo Ward.” It was common knowledge that although Leo was an absolute pig, he was the commissioner's son. “I just wanna go home” Bob knew that to argue with you now would probably be the worst thing he could do. He wanted you to feel in control. Although he wanted to make sure you were okay? He'd try again later. Nodded as he helped you up, Charlotte had sent you a text to say she’d gotten a ride with Ben. You didn’t talk much after that night. If she’s come with you maybe Leo wouldn’t have had such an opportunity. And the rumours that spread like wildfire across campus didn’t help.

“Okay, yeah, let’s get you home.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Complete and utter silence fell between the two of you in the car on the way home. You couldn’t find the energy to speak, you didn’t want to speak. It wasn’t that Bob didn’t want to talk he just didn’t know how to ask, he didn’t really want to ask either because I do that any word would want to hurt you too sick to your stomach.

As soon as Bob pulled up into the drive he watched to slowly get out of the car. Like a zombie a part of you was gone for good. Locking his car Bob followed you inside, when he heard the sound of running water and sobs that held more anguish than he’d ever like to imagine coming from the bathroom? His heart broke just a little more. Pushing the slightly ajar door open Bob saw you in the shower, fully clothed, completely submerged in the water that fell from your shower head. Sighing, he pressed his lips together. Kicking off his shoes and removing his shirt.

“This is what we're doing huh?” Bob sighed to himself as he stepped into the shower. Standing behind you as you cried. His hands resting on your shoulders letting you know he was here. The moment bobs hands touched your shoulders you gave in, your legs weak as you collapsed. “Shit—“ Bob gasped as he came down with you. His legs falling either side of you as you leant back into his chest. “Hey, easy—I got you, I got you.”

“I fucking hate this.” You cried out. “Why? I didn’t ask for it I wasn’t even doing anything I just—“ you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Bob worked to hold you close, listening to you cry. Bob didn’t know what to do except console you, holding you close, your back against his chest. “This god damn hell of a world—“ you sobbed uncontrollably, anger bubbling to the surface as you let everything out. Bob couldn’t stand to see you so hurt, so vulnerable.

“Let me tell you something you already know, alright?” Bob worked to move the hair that clung to you like glue. “The worlds not all sunshine and rainbows, it's a very mean and nasty place.” Bob cooed softly as he held you. The water running over you as your sons settled at the sound of his voice. Always a comfort. “And I don't care how tough you think you need to be right now but it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it.” Bob didn’t want this to change who you were. He knew it would always stay with you, but he didn’t want it to change a single thing about you. Your smile, your laugh,the way you lit up any room. “Life hits hard but it's about how hard you can take the hit and keep moving forward, how much you can take and keep moving forward.” The silence lingered between you and Bob as the water rushed over you. The back of your head resting against his chest. “I know to you, it probably feels like the best thing for you to do right now would be to stay silent, lay low, process everything. But if Leo can so easily do this to you he could very much do it again and again and if i'm being completely honest? He's probably gotten away with this already.”

“I know i have to tell someone but i just cant right now Bob, i'm tired, my head hurts, and all i want to do is sleep.” You sobbed, sniffling as you grabbed Bob's hands, gently pulling them into your eyeline. Letting out a hiss as the hot water washed the grim from the bloodied knuckles he wore. “I didn't say thankyou for coming.”

“You don't need to thank me.” Bob let his head rest against the tiles of your shower, accepting the fact he was completely soaked and not going anywhere anytime soon. “Just doing what I was taught to do.”

“What would that be?” you questioned as you picked up the soaked washcloth from the ground, working to dab Bob's knuckles as he hissed softly. The sting all too real. Bob wasn't sure if now would be a good time but he didnt know how to stop himself.

“I uh, nows probably not the most appropriate time given the circumstances but um– i was just trying to protect you because i think– i love you.” You kept dabbing away at Bob's knuckles as your heart skipped a beat. Bob shifted in his place behind you gently as he sat up a little straighter. His chin coming to rest on your shoulder. “You don't have to love me back, I think I'd just be happy having you in my life, but please try and remember that I will never let anyone hurt you ever again and if anything I'm sorry I just didn't come with you in the first place.” Bob's voice was soft, sincere and apologetic. “I don't think I'll ever turn down an offer to go anywhere with you ever again.” you let out a soft chuckle as you admired your work, Bob's knuckles as clean as bruised knuckles could be after bare knuckle boxing something's face. “I'm sorry.”

“You are the last person who should be saying sorry Bob.” Robert Floyd was a good man, that much you knew for sure. He was kind and caring and was the most sincere soul you'd ever been blessed to know. You loved him. Working to push yourself off the ground before Bob followed, you stood to face him under the water that fell from your showerhead. “I'm not ready to talk to the police about this yet, but I will, I just dont wanna become another statistic that's forgotten about on some shelf until it's too late.” Bob's heart broke for you knowing that more often than not, that's exactly what happened.

“If I have anything to do with it, Leo won't graduate.” Bob added. You smiled as your hands fell to his chest. Bob's arms resting against your hips. “God if he shows up to class on Tuesday ill–” you didn't hesitate to interrupt Bob with a gentle kiss to his lips. Pulling away a few seconds later.

“I think I love you too.” you cooed. Bob couldn't remember where he was going with what he was just saying, maybe that was your plan. If it was, it worked because Bob had his lips back on yours and his hands cupping your cheeks in seconds. Slowly melting away with you as you deepened the kiss, tongues dancing gracefully together as Bob begged for more of you and you begged for more of him. As things started to get a little too heated you pulled back. “I think I just need a little time.” you explained. Bob nodded in response as he tried to regulate his heartbeat. Kissing your forehead, Bob pulled you close as he wrapped his arms around you.

“We have, so much time.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~

Tags: @kkrenae @lexhalstead3 @justanothermagicalsara @luckyladycreator2 @milesrooster @a-serene-place-to-be @marantha @red-undead-raptor @shanimallina87 @sarahjoestewy-blog

#bob floyd angst #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd #top gun bob

[hero-israel]

The "Left" has been braying about fascism for years and yet, and YET, I know none of them have even skimmed a single sentence of Ur-Fascism by Umberto Eco. If you've read it, you'll immediately start saying "Oh that's Hamas!" at basically every point he made.

Hamas has used some of the most conservative and harsh readings of Islamic theology to create a cult of tradition, they fundamentally reject modernity as an evil plague of the West, they call on Palestinians to "resist" and "struggle" and plan grandiose attacks like 10/7 with no real concrete long term tenable goals that can be gleaned- action for action's sake.

Disagreement is treason, that much is obvious. Children in preschool are taught to fear and hate Jews (fear of difference), and at the same time teach the "middle" classes that Jews are responsible for their economic hardship as if they aren't embezzling tens of millions of dollars from a global charity scam, that Jews are ever seeking to take more land and resources.

Hamas is obsessed with a Plot, that plot being every antisemitic conspiracy theory under the sun. They and their supporters believe all of them, or prime their own brains to stumble down those pipelines at a later date. My personal favorites include the Ben Gurion Canal Project, but they're all sub-plots of the Main Plot; Jews are seeking to supplant us.

Hamas frames themselves and Palestinian society as a whole as both too strong to consider humble negotiated peace, and to justify endless warfare, but also too weak to be responsible for their crimes, too pathetic for Israel to ever be justified in taking military action. It's a constant cycle of hyping themselves up as a group of badass radical warriors and then squealing "no fair" when Israel uses modern weaponry to swat them away.

I'm sure there's also contempt for the weak in Gazan society, but it doesn't immediately jump out at me from Hamas' propaganda machine (this is usually shunted onto Jews anyway, who are seen as effeminate and metropolitan, feeding into that simultaneous strength and weakness thing- Israel is weak and unworthy of life, but too powerful they're the bullies actually).

Hamas literally educates everyone to become a hero, they literally groom young boys into becoming radicalized child soldiers who do not have the frontal cortex development to resist such blatant brainwashing. It's literal child abuse. Palestinian women are pretty obviously seen as chattel who must breed the future army that will finally overwhelm Al-Yahood. There is no aspect of Gazan society that can exist for itself, it must all be part of the Struggle against Israel. And everyone, down to the tiniest baby, must play their part.

The Machismo is so blatant it should be comical. But you don't gang rape Jewish women and humiliate and torture kids if you're secure in your masculinity. I mean, there is something emasculating about being constantly beaten and seeming to have no hope for your political goals... while also constantly telling yourself that you're a proud virile warrior and you and the People have the strength of will to accomplish anything... but then these people you see as subhuman and like kind of queer if you think about it... well they utterly crush you every time. And that is all to say nothing about how Hamas relates to feminism and gay rights. And also how Eco describes the Macho Fascist as using weapons as an ersatz phallic symbol and we see so many teenage boys in Gaza being handed guns and it's like oh... this one section of the essay could take years to unpack when it comes to Hamas.

And Hamas definitely treats the people of Gaza (if not all of Palestine) as having one will and one voice, individuality is not considered. We've seen them and their spineless NGO simps refuse to acknowledge that many many Gazans criticize them, protest against them, hold them equally responsible for their current suffering as Israel. There is no One Singular Leader who claims to represent Gazans/Palestinians but that could change at any moment honestly.

And I don't see any evidence of Newspeak, but I don't know Arabic so I don't know. I do see the Western Leftist allies of Hamas engage in Newspeak like behaviors though. But that brings me to my ultimate point of this long ass ask. The Western Hamas girlies are literally, not only legitimizing a fascist organization even though they purport to hate fascism more than anything. They're starting to reproduce fascist talking points, fascist ways of thinking, in their own activism and their own lives! They're starting to think, talk, and act like fascists when it comes to Israel and Palestine, and to Jews more broadly. They're entirely unaware of this because to recognize Hamas as fascists would be to add a LOT of gray into their black and white worldview. When they appropriate the Palestinian national struggle for their own narcissistic delusions of popular revolution in the West, they're taking actual fascist propaganda produced by a fascist organization and applying it to their own lives.

tl;dr, by every metric laid out by Eco, Hamas are fascists, the people who support them and make apologetics for them are (maybe unknowingly) becoming more like fascists themselves, the next few years and decades are going to thoroughly suck but Am Yisrael Chai.

.

#Hamas #umberto eco #Palestine #Gaza #fascism #leftist antisemitism #ur-fascism

[maillesdouces]

while Machos dreams to guns and fight, I dream about soft bisexual sweater women…

pendant que les machos rêves d’armes et de combats je rêve de douces bi-sexuelles en pull tout doux….

#sweater girl #mohair sweater #sapphic #lesbian

[st-dionysus]

sorry if I'm misreading something here, did you indicate that witchers *like trans men* are valued for their masculine prowess at combat? because I bust some ass trying to get the fellas to come to the gym or the gun range or to the self defense club with me and it's almost fruitless. if your experience is different I'd love to know your secret lol

Eh. It's more like trans men are expected by cis women and in lesbian or otherwise queerfem spaces to be The Protector. We're supposed to be nonthreatening men until a Woman Or Femme is in need of rescuing - then we're supposed to be super macho and self-sacraficing and use our "male power/privilege" to step in and be the one who takes the literal physical hits. We have to be the chivalrous butch, the man who won't let anyone hurt you but will leave the second danger is gone and go back to standing against the wall and being silent.

And then you have other nations where trans men are in the draft, now that we're men -- we can be used as a weapon and a shield and another expendable asset, but we reap none of the frail benefits of the patriarchy that are allegedly granted because of the dangers that men are required to face.

The witchers are a group of men expected to put their lives on the line, to defend "The Weak" then get told to leave because they're weird, mutilated, scary, and inhuman. It feels a little close to home. Especially after having been a bouncer at a lesbian bar.

#saint speaks #saint speaks under the influence #answers #geralt z rivii #geralt of rivia #book geralt #game geralt #trans geralt #trans witcher #witcher #lambert #vesemir #eskel #fandom #transandrophobia

[73suggestions]

#Rachel Weisz #The Mummy Returns #2001 #2000s #Evelyn O'Connell #exploration #explorer #adventurer #librarian #The Mummy #Egypt #ancient Egypt #pseudo Egypt #tomb #pistol #gun #macho women with guns #actress #pulp #pulp fiction #adventure

[qqueenofhades]

Is it... bad that I just do not CARE about men's mental health no matter how many articles I see about it? "single men are lonely :(((" They made the manosphere roe is overturned and are railing against no fault divorce. I just... don't have energy for this right now. Like i've advocated for men's mental health before, but I'm seeing an INFLUX of "what about men??? they need WIVES!" sentiment from the right and i just. I'm just not feeling it.

No, you're not a bad person at all. The intense legal misogyny and widespread cultural revanchist toxic-masculinity grievance politics right now are absolutely exhausting, and I often feel the same way. However, I think it's possibly useful to differentiate what's actually upsetting you the most, and how that's not the same thing as what the peddlers of this narrative would like you to think. After all, you're not fed up with men's mental health per se; you're fed up (and rightfully so) with the reactionary right-wing fascist narrative that constantly insists that helpless men are victims of the evil women and gays, that the only way for a (white, straight, Christian) man to be happy or a "real man" is by engaging in toxic masculinity, traditional patriarchy, and the destruction of feminism, and that Manhood (tm) is under some kind of existential threat by those soft wimpy liberals who talk about feelings and other gross stuff, and not just Beer, Guns, God, and Freedom. (You know, as if the entirety of human history has happened just to get us back to this point of caveman patriarchy, but let's not talk about Bruno.)

Extreme and macho masculinity/insisting that there's only one way to be a man/any gender variance or departure from traditional norms is Bad, are all key social features of fascism. That's why a) there's such a backlash against trans people right now, and b) most of that concern has focused on the idea of "men in dresses" pretending to be women, "betraying" their gender assigned at birth, "preying" on (poor, helpless, unaware, feeble) women, and otherwise voluntarily relinquishing their manhood, which under fascism is synonymous with power and therefore the worst crime imaginable. After all, with these ludicrous state laws about being forced to dress as your gender assigned at birth -- who do you think is going to be most affected by that? I'm sure they'll get around to criminalizing women wearing trousers and plaid shirts eventually, but it's really hard to tell if a woman is "dressing according to her biological gender." If a male-presenting or AMAB person attempts to dress in more feminine fashion, however, that is the heart of the problem and what fascism is trying to restrict and outlaw.

After all, regardless of what the right wing carps and sobs and screams about, "manhood" is not a unitary, singular category, and rich, white, straight, Christian, Trump-loving men are not the "default" standard for manhood, no matter how many terrible books Josh Hawley might write about the subject. Black/Hispanic men, Indigenous men, trans men, queer men, disabled men, immigrant men, poor men, Muslim men, etc., are all also men, but obviously fascism doesn't value them or think they're complying with the heteronormative white supremacist paradigm. So yeah, obviously all their talk about "men's rights" basically boils down to "women should voluntarily relinquish all the legal and social advancements of the last 150 years in order to meekly serve men, uphold white theocratic fascism, and establish Gilead without a complaint, like good biblical helpmeets!" So THAT, or at least it feels like to me, is what you're angry about, and you should be!

Because the right wing has been so successful at casting "men" in general under this one category, it can be hard to pick apart or see any nuance in what's going on, and you don't have to give the time of day to those "poor mistreated men need tradwives!" nonsense pieces. But by continuing to push back against this awful definition of manhood, you can help show how it's interlinked with fascism and racism, it's inflicting terrible damage on men themselves, and help men understand that they DON'T need to live like that or force themselves into that paradigm in order to be successful. So yeah.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

[magnoliabutters]

BEG FOR IT • SAN DIEGO •

pairing: bradley “rooster” bradshaw x reader (she/her, 18+)

summary: the night before your assignment starts at top gun and you’re looking to celebrate. you’re about to have the night of your life.

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; angsty angst, fluffity fluff, smutitty smut; heavy petting, heavy make out sesh, sub/dom dynamic switches, (f receiving) oral, cum denial, (protected) p in v, kinky shit, begging, choking, etc.

word count: ~7k

support your author: reblogs for our man, rooster ✨

good girl • san diego • part two •

note: thank you to @fandomxpreferences​ for the writing bug on this one. please check out their macho man asap. hot hot hot. this series takes place after top gun: maverick. i do go back and forth between first names and call signs - my apologies. this cast list may support you on who’s who and the visuals. i also always wanted to try my hand at making our reader a fucking boss, so here’s my attempt. i hope you enjoy!

It was your last night before your official assignment at Top Gun. Your entire career has been leading up to this moment. You have waited long enough to finally be recognized for your dedication. You cannot wait to learn from the best - Maverick. Just the thought of the captain’s call sign leaves shivers through your body. He will make you the best damn pilot anyone in the Navy has ever seen.

It is never fun to be the new student in class, but luckily your old war buddy is heavily loved at the academy. “Jake!” you excitedly yell through the crowd. You haven’t seen this man in at least three years. A few calls and texts here and there but he will always be a big brother to you, and you his little sister. “Whiskey!” he says as he rushes towards you. His blonde, gelled hair solely visible over the waves of people. Once he’s free, you note his black undershirt and tight jeans. You knew in your heart that this man must have lost his shirt somewhere. His arms wrap around you as he picks you up from your waist. You gasp but let out a laugh, expecting nothing less from your buddy, Hangman.

“God, it’s so great to see you again,” Jake says as he places you down. His devilish smile already showing you he’s about three to four drinks in. “It’s great seeing you too, Hangman,” you say with a pat to his chest. “So this is the infamous ‘Hard Deck’ bar, huh?” you ask as you look over the loud crowd. You note several people still in their uniforms. Dozens of, what you assume are, civilians. “Yup, big fan,” he replies, pulling you from your observations. “Shall we get a drink?” You smile and nod your way towards the bar. “I’ll follow your lead.”

Hangman gently grabs hold of your hand and leads you through the bustling mass of people. You watch in amusement as several drunken servicemen and women dance and stumble into each other. Top Gun is just as you hoped it would be, on the social end of things anyway. “Hey, Penny. Can I get another beer and a Jameson on the rocks?” he yells over to the beautiful woman behind the bar. She nods and quickly begins to make the drinks.

“I’m happy to hear that we’re on the same assignment,” Jake says at a louder volume. Your eyes travel over the group of people, completely filled with happiness and amazement. “Whiskey?” he asks. You direct your attention back to him. “Yeah?” you shake your head and sigh. “I’m sorry, H. I’m just taking all this in! This is so freaking cool!” you share with excitement in your eyes. He smiles, “I know. I remember when I first got here. I was all nerves, but I had to push all that down ‘cause they were still looking for a team lead.”

Jake grabs hold of both your drinks and thanks the bartender. He hands over your glass. “Damn, so the dog fights started as soon as your boots hit the ground?” you ask as you take a slow sip. “Pretty much. Luckily, our team lead’s already chosen this time,” he mutters nonchalantly. You immediately turn towards him. “Are you team lead?” you gasp with a gentle smack to his chest. He takes a swig of his beer as he rolls his eyes. “Nah, not this time. Don’t remind me,” he mumbles under his breath.

The bar’s jukebox suddenly switches to a classic. Roaring through the speakers, you hear the song “We Built This City.” You slowly turn towards Hangman with a gaping mouth. His head immediately begins to shake no. He already knows how much you love to dance. “Aw, please Hangman! Let’s dance!” you say as you begin to swing your hips. He huffs and rolls his eyes, but only because he knows he’s going to give in. He always does.

You laugh as Hangman downs the remainder of his beer. You grab hold of your whiskey and gulp it down as fast as you can. With a smooth movement, you grab hold of Hangman’s wrist and drag him onto the dance floor. You bounce, with your arms raised, as you sing along to the song. You are completely carefree. Not a single worry in the world. Absolutely happy and proud of where you are now. You deserve this. You deserve to celebrate! You yell along with the music as you continue to dance your little heart out. 

With a few extra jumps, you find yourself bumping into a woman. She spills her drink on her white shirt and looks towards you with an annoyed face. As soon as her eyes land upon yours, her entire demeanor changes. “Whiskey?!” she yells with her hands raised. “Oh my goodness! Phoenix! I haven’t seen you in so long,” you say as you wrap your arms around her. “I’m so sorry about the drink. Let me get us some napkins,” you say. “No, no. I’ll go get them. You two catch up,” Hangman interrupts with a smirk.

“Thank you, H!” you yell as he already walks off to the bar. “How long has it been?” you ask as you direct yourself to your old crew mate. She exhales as she shakes her head. “I don’t even know! It’s been way too long,” Phoenix replies excitedly. “Did you finally make Lieutenant?!” You grin with a nod. “Oh yeah, I’m all official now,” you chuckle. “Damn, Lieutenant y/n ‘Whiskey’ y/l/n,” she says as she takes a good look at you. “It’s been way too long,” she repeats as she playfully hooks her arm around your neck, putting you into a bit of a chokehold. 

Phoenix and you laugh for what feels like hours. Your cheeks hurt with how much you have been smiling. It’s odd to go to a place you have never been before and yet, feel like you are home. It just goes to show that home is not a place, it’s a people. “Hangman, did you introduce Whiskey to everyone yet?” Phoenix asks right before sipping on her beer. “No, I haven’t actually. I was planning on making my way over to the pool table,” Hangman shares as he nods over to the taller deck of the bar.

“Ooo, pool sounds like fun,” you add as you look towards Hangman. Your eyes hopeful and excited for any and all experiences. “Am I going to kick your ass again?” you ask as you elbow Hangman’s gut. He exaggerates as he exasperates a breath in response. “Shut up,” you laugh at his reaction. “Kick my ass? That’s hilarious,” he replies. Phoenix chuckles as she rolls her eyes. “Dude, you are so easy to beat now a-days. You’re too focus on getting laid,” she quickly adds. 

You gasp against your glass as you take a sip. “Yikes, shots fired,” you whisper. Hangman scoffs, “At least I’m getting laid.” Your eyes widen as your brows raise. “Yeah, I’m going to go walk off now. I’m sure Phoenix is about to rip your head off,” you softly say with a bit of a laugh towards the end. Phoenix nods as she watches Hangman take a shaky sip of his drink. You grab hold of your second whiskey and drop it down your gullet.

You decide to pop over and see the pretty bartender again. “Hi there, can I get another Jameson?” you yell over the loud commotion from the crowd. “Of course, darlin’. Under Hangman’s tab, right?” she asks with a wink. You smile and tuck your chin to your chest. “I like you. My name’s Whiskey,” you say as you extend your arm out over the bar. The bartender smiles as she quickly dries her hands on a towel. “I’m Penny. Nice to meet you,” she says with a good shake of her hand. 

You turn around and lay your elbows back onto the bar as you wait for your drink. “Rough night?” a random man asks. You turn towards him with a raised brow. “No,” you respond sternly and return to looking over the crowd. The man, thankfully, walks away as you put your resting bitch face on full display. As you look over the boisterous crowd, you catch a glimpse of a jukebox in the back corner. Before you can rush over in pure excitement, you hear, “Whiskey for Whiskey.” Penny hands over your drink with a wide toothed grin. You spin around and wink. “Thank you, Penny,” you smirk. She nods with a side smile as she returns the wink.

Walking towards the jukebox is a bit of a hassle. You find yourself bumping into several people. Some of your whisky spilling onto the floor. You feel as though you’ve said “excuse me” about a hundred times before you finally reach a clearing in the mass. You dig into your front pocket for a quarter as you sip on your glass. In dire search for the perfect song to dance to, you settle on an old Chuck Berry song that you adore.

All of a sudden, another stranger of a man walks up and pulls the juke’s plug with a quick tug. He wears an opened mustard Hawaiian shirt and tight blue jeans. “Hey! What the hell?” you shout with your arms raised. The man ignores you as he quickly walks over to a break in the horde. You follow his brunette locks until he disappears behind others. Suddenly, you hear a piano - a live piano.

With a confused look on your face, you decide to climb into a recently used booth and peer over the group’s heads. You note the man slamming his fingers down on the keys as those around him form a circle. You continue to watch curious, while also pissed that you wasted your quarter. Before you knew it, the man began to sing and the crowd sang along with him. You didn’t recognize the song but you could see that this impromptu singing was most definitely a tradition for those in the bar.

You try your hardest not to be upset with the man, but your body is red hot in response to his rudeness. Maybe it was the three whiskey shots you have taken so far. Once the song ends and the entire bar is filled with shouts and howls, you note the man walking towards the pool tables. You quickly shoot down your whiskey, jump from the booth, and plan your attack to run into each other amongst the masses. 

With a not so subtle bump, your shoulder lands upon his. The man immediately greets you with a smile and an apology. His smile incredibly divine below his bushed stache. The stache reminding you of the old poster of Tom Selleck you embarrassingly had in your room growing up. “You owe be a quarter,” you respond. You lean yourself against a high topped table. “Excuse me?” the man genuinely asks. “You owe me a quarter. You turned off the juke before I could choose a song,” you share.

The man laughs as he looks over you with amusement in his eyes. “Do you really want a quarter, right now?” he asks. “Did you really have to turn off the juke when it was my turn?” you retort. The liquor in you making this a way bigger issue than it ever had to be. A part of you acknowledges that, while the other part simply chooses to ignore it. The man chuckles. “Where are your friends?” he inquires, entertained. A part of him also concerned as you are clearly tipsy and alone. “None yah,” you mutter. He watches you with disbelief. “Are you really ‘none yah business’-ing me right now?” he asks. With a tight lip and squinted eyes, you slowly reply, “Maybe.”

“Alright. I’m sorry,” the man snickers as he raises his hands. “I don’t have a quarter, but maybe I can buy you a drink - or get you a water?” You grumble at his solution. “I rather have the drink,” you mumble. “And I rather you have the water,” he states. He smiles as his eyes rake over you. His chin held high as he takes a good look. You stand there, almost awkwardly, as you note him attending to different parts of your body. You feel as though you are a piece of art on display. He wasn’t bad to look at himself. His brunette hair and deep dark eyes leave you weak in the knees. You wouldn’t mind tussling your hand through his hair. His body ever so toned and tight. What’s under that shirt of his? Under those jeans…

Although initially a dick according to your tipsy mind, your body only received good energy from this man. In and of itself, that is a rather rare thing to feel from a stranger. “Let’s go with water,” you mutter with a suspicious look. “Ha-okay,” he scoffs. “Do you mind if I guide you back to the bar? It might be a bit difficult to walk through with all these people,” he suggests. You begrudgingly accept. However, you are more than okay with it once he wraps his arm around your waist.

Once at the bar, the man lightly leans you against the bar. His hip rests against the back of yours as he holds you tight to the bar. There is a possibility you drank more than you should have. “Hey, Penny! Can I get a water really quick?” he requests. Your ears perk up at the name. “Penny? I love Penny,” you whisper. “Whiskey can’t hold her Whiskey, huh?” she laughs in response as she places the glass of water in front of you. “That’s why they call me Whiskey,” you say as you maneuver out of his support. You take a few steps from the bar and bow.

The man and Penny both shine smiles your way. Both amused by your fearlessness and disregard for social normalcy. As you bend back up, you lock eyes with the man. His tongue is at the roof of his mouth. His lips perfectly pink and supple. His eyes almost daring you to kiss him. His body unbearably difficult to resist. “Penny?” you begin. “If I go home with him, will I die?” you ask as you point towards him. The man looks off to Penny quickly, but you note some blush to his cheeks. They both cackle in response to your question. “No, you won’t die,” she answers. “He’s a good man? You’d vouch for him?” you insist. She smiles and glances over at him with a look of pride. “Yes, he is a good man.”

“Well, that settles it,” you say as you grab hold of the man’s hand. He lets out a laugh as he follows behind you. He is unable to say a word until you are both outside the bar. “We should probably find your friends,” he says with light chuckles. He is completely entertained with you. “They’re having their own fun. It’s fine. I’m sobering up anyway. I just need to take a cold drive for a little and I’ll be set,” you shine him a smile. He can’t help but smile back at you. “Okay, so a quick drive and then I’ll drop you home,” he confirms. He is desperately attempting to do what’s best for you and get you home safely. “Yeah, or your home,” you murmur under you breath as you begin to step down from the wooden deck.

The man grabs hold of his keys from his back pocket. He smiles as he shakes his head. “I’m over here,” he says as he walks over to the Ford Bronco. “Oh shit,” you say as you slow your walk. “Damn, a first-gen?” you ask, letting out a low whistle. He nods with a tight lip, slightly impressed. You open the passenger side door and carefully slide in. “Wow, fully restored, huh?” you excitedly ask. He smiles and responds, “Yeah, it was passed down in my family.” You grin in response as you buckle your seatbelt.

Lowering the window, you lean your face onto the car’s door. The cold ocean air flinging back at you. The man watches from the driver’s seat, in awe of you. “So, your call sign’s Whiskey?” he asks as you both ride the coast. “Yup. What about you?” you ask turning back to him. Your hair whips around your face, making it practically impossible to see. “I’m Rooster,” he shares. You nod, “That’s a pretty cool sign.” He involuntarily smiles as his eyes remain on the road. “Thank you,” he expresses.

“So, what brings you to town?” Rooster asks. He steals glances of you between the curves of the costal roads. “I got assigned in the area,” you share. You remember that your assignment remains top secret and only a few are given the detailed information. Fortunately for you, assignments run in and out of San Diego’s Naval base regularly. “Oh nice, same here,” he adds. “Have you been assigned here before?” he asks, now simply trying to continue the conversation. “Nope, but I always wanted to be,” you say as you rest your forehead slightly out the window. The wind cooling the heat from your face. 

Rooster laughs as he places one of his hands to his temple. “I feel like there’s a story there,” he ponders. You smile as you lean back onto the passenger seat. “Not a fun one,” you reply as you look over to him. “What’s your story?” you ask as you lean closer to the driver’s side. You cross one of your legs under the other as you place your chin in your hand. He chuckles as he shakes his head. “No story here. Just an assignment,” he mutters. “Wow, we are boring people,” you exhale as you face towards the road. He breathes out a laugh as he holds his solid smile. “Sounds more like we just don’t like talking about ourselves,” he softly suggests. 

You smirk as you bump your shoulder against him. “I guess I can agree with that,” you hum. Rooster leans into your shoulder, but lightly begins to tap onto his steering wheel. His smile pulls to one side. “So, how are you feeling?” he asks. You rest your head upon his shoulder and link your arm around his. “I’m feeling pretty sober,” you confidently share. He nods as he hesitantly leans into your embrace. “I’m happy to hear that,” he mutters under his breath. “Yup, so you can take me back to your place now,” you nonchalantly instruct. 

Rooster quickly turns over to you and chuckles in disbelief. “What? No, common,” he continues to laugh between words. “Where are you staying?” You slide your other hand onto his thigh. “I’m staying with you,” you reply softy. His eyes turn towards you. Yours look up to him as you bite the side of your lip. He lets out a heavy breath as he glances back at the road. “Where are you really staying, Whiskey?” he asks seriously. 

With the sudden shift in tone, your eyebrows raise. “Rooster, what are you not getting here?” you question. “I want you to take me back to your place and fuck me silly. Now, its one thing if you aren’t interested but if you’re just trying to be the gentleman here, please don’t.” He shakes his head as he bites his lip hard. His breathing heavies as he taps against the steering wheel. “You swear you’re sober?” he asks with all sincerity. You truly appreciate the question. Another sign of goodness within this man. Penny must not have been wrong. “I swear,” you reply confidently. It wasn’t even a lie. Like you said, cold wind in your face during a drive and you are good as new. 

Rooster mutters, “Damn it,” under his breath as he makes a hasty U-turn on the road. You giggle as the car flings you into him. “Hmm, good boy,” you whisper in his ear. He releases a quivering breath and quickly clears his throat. Ever so lightly, you place a kiss right below his ear. Your hand, still resting on his thigh, now smoothing its way over to his inner. A firm bulge leaving your body shivering. You enjoy how his breathing shakes when your lips trace over his skin. 

With a lean of his head towards you, Rooster finally loosens the reigns and gives in a bit more. His mouth hanging open as your lips explore his jawline. Your hand beginning to palm closer and closer to his groin. Your eyes lightly close as you lean into the softness of his olive toned skin. He releases a sharp breath as his forehead caresses your temple. “Don’t crash this car, Rooster,” you laugh against his cheek. He smiles, “Trust me, I won’t.” 

You place a kiss onto his cheek as his arm curls around your waist. You lightly unbuckle your seatbelt. He pulls you in closer to his side, as your hand moves underneath his shirt. Finally, you get to touch those muscles you recognized from the first second you saw him. Your legs tighten together as you lower your kisses onto his neck. He raises his chin as his nails dig into your hip. You sharply breathe against him as the pinches send shots of electricity through your body. 

Before you knew it, Rooster put the Bronco in park. He immediately rushes his seat belt off and lands his hands against your cheeks. You lean against him as you quickly adjust your body to straddle him. Your arms wrap around his torso as your waist begins to grind onto him. Your breathing is in sync. He slowly moves one of his hands towards the back of your neck, pushing you closer into him. His lips envelope your mouth as you begin to reach for his belt. 

Without your noticing, Rooster slowly opens the car door and swings his legs to meet the road below. He moves his other hand down to your waist and presses you tight against his body. He carefully moves you both out of the car and stands. Your legs instinctually wrap around his waist. He begins to walk you over towards, what you would assume is, a house. You are quite busy smashing your tongue against his during this hot and heavy pleasure filled break from reality. 

You feel Rooster reaching for keys in his front pocket. All whilst his lips crash onto yours. You feel the red hot passion against your skin. Your legs clenching tightly around his waist. A part of you feels bad that he is actively trying to get into his house all while making out and carrying you. The other part of you just cares about the making out part. He accidentally drops his keys, but you don’t care. All you want right now is him. You don’t care where. You begin to softly moan against his lips as you feel a bulge twitch against your thigh. He huffs as he quickly lifts you up to get a better grip. His hand now resting on your ass as you tighten your grip around his neck. He slams the side of his fist onto the front door. Not leaving even a second of your lips being apart.

As it opens, Rooster quickly walks you both inside. There is no acknowledgement for the glasses wearing soldier who watches you both in absolute awe. Rooster stumbles down a hallway, often leaning you against the wall as your back crashes against what you think to be hung photos. Your tongues continue to dance as your hands drag against both of your bodies. The fire between you two is undeniable.

Once Rooster makes it into the threshold of his room, you quickly jump down from his hips and push him back onto a bed. You lightly kick the door closed behind you. He laughs as he watches you in all your glory. You crawl over him, slowly stopping for pecks on his stomach and chest. You feverishly straddle him as you rest your hands upon his chest. “So, Rooster. Whatcha gonna do to me?” you ask with a bit of a taunt. He heavily breathes through his smile as he leans up to meet your lips.

Only a mere few centimeters away, he whispers, “I’m going to fuck you so hard, you’re going to be begging to cum on my cock.” You slightly pull back with your chin lowered, completely impressed. His eyebrows bounce as he lightly brushes his lips against yours. Now, it is abundantly clear that you do not know this man. But with what information you gathered in your short time together, you did not expect this.

With a swift movement, Rooster flips you on your back as he rests between your legs. His hands crash beside your head, pulling the mattress down. He tilts his head as he looks over your face. You smirk as you place your hand to his cheek. His eyes rake over your hair, your irises, your nose, and mouth. If he has done anything tonight, it has been observing you and every detail of your body. You have never been completely adored over like this before. This is something new and you are still unsure of how you feel about it. 

Your hand moves to the back of his neck, pulling him down and crashing his lips against yours. Rooster rests his weight on his knee between your legs. He quickly raises his torso and takes off his Hawaiian and undershirt. You are gobsmacked by how incredibly attractive this man’s body is. You try your hardest not to show it and put all of your effort into clenching your teeth together. However, you are sure your eyes give you away. 

Rooster pinches a piece of your shirt and pulls it towards him. “You gonna take this off?” he asks. With the opportunity to switch back to dominating, you quickly rise up on your hands. Your face meeting his sternum. You look up to him and whisper, “I think you got it.” With just that look up, you surprisingly find yourself wanting to be submissive. His body huge and heavy over you, completely filled with muscles you would have never imagined. You slowly raise your hands as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt. 

With a smile you have grown to admire, Rooster slowly pulls your shirt over your head. Your hair collapsing onto your shoulders and upper back. You watch him with curiosity. He leans closer to you as he easily unclasps your bra and allows it to fall naturally. There you rest, your eyes and chin up to him with a completely bare chest.

“Lay down,” he softly instructs. Swallowing your pride, you gradually lean back onto your elbows and finally onto your back. Your eyes never leaving his. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as his hand travels down between your breasts and onto your stomach. The feel of his touch is like static to your skin. 

Rooster gently brings his hand back to your face. Some of his fingers hook under your chin, leaving his thumb brushing against your lips. He continues to caress your soft lips as you watch him with wide eyes. He lightly breaches your mouth and places his thumb between your teeth. You give him a soft bite, producing a beautiful smirk across his face. 

“Hmm, good girl,” he murmurs as he places a gentle kiss upon your lips. Your hands fly to his waist. Your kisses are more like bites as you fully indulge on his beauty. He leans deeper within your kisses. Your hands swiftly unbuckle his belt and pull down on his jeans. With the base of your palm, you lightly press down upon him. Your hand exploring his unit. He groans as you smiles against his lips. Your breathe deeply along with him as roses appear on the tops of your cheek.

Rooster quickly pulls down his pants, leaving him in just his boxers. He quickly shifts his focus towards your jeans. As he pulls them down, side to side, giggles escape your lips as he places kisses on your ticklish spots. Your hand resting on his hair as he floats lower and lower on your body. Your hips rise up to him. Your body wanting everything he can give you.

As he reaches your panties, Rooster places a sweet kiss atop your clit. It takes everything you have within you not to scream and to be patient. You desperately want him to explore underneath the cloth. He trails one finger down from your clit and by your entrance. “Already wet for me,” he whispers as he leans down and places a soft kiss on your inner thigh. Your skin is on absolute fire. Your legs demand to clench together and pull his head closer. You take steady breaths to keep yourself calm.

Rooster continues his kisses from the top of your inner thighs, now exploring the area between your hips. Your waist involuntarily pushes into him, bumping against his chin. He doesn’t mind as he hooks his fingers underneath the band of your underwear. You attempt to maintain your breathing as he slowly pulls the cloth down until you are completely bare in front of him.

“You are so beautiful,” he mumbles between kisses as he explores the top of your vag. You desperately try to keep your hips from grinding upon his face. His lips finally land upon your clit. You feel his wet tongue slide within your folds. Your eyes roll back as you lean deeper into the mattress. Your hands grasping at your chest. With a flick of his tongue, you release a low moan and begin to move your hips with his steady movements.

Rooster smiles as he feels your body writhing underneath him. His arms hook under your thighs, keeping them wide open for him. His hands dig deep into your muscles. He circles his tongue around your bean. With another moan from you, he begins to drag the flat of his tongue between the tops of your lips. His hard cock presses deeply against the mattress. He wants so deeply to be inside you, but needs to make sure you are all lathered up and ready for him.

With another firm lick, he lowers his tongue and circles your entrance. Your body is desperate for him to go inside. Your hips now acting completely out of control and grinding upon his face. You let out moans as your hand tightens it’s grip on his soft locks. “Oh fuck,” you yelp as your other hand rubs out your breast and nipple.

Without your knowledge, Rooster looks up at you every time you moan. He watches as your body tightens in response to him. He loves watching you play with your tit as he eats you out. He begins to grind into the mattress. The pressure feeling nice, but the tension of being inside you is almost too much to bare.

Rooster firms his tongue and gradually pushes it within you. Your eyelids flutter. Your thighs struggle to clench together, but his hands grip harder upon your legs. You are completely open for him and he likes it that way. As he quickens his movements, dragging his tongue against your walls, your moans grow louder and more intense. “Shit, shit, shit,” you say with a crack to your voice. Your hand squeezes and pulls against the strands of his hair.

Hearing you moan for him, Rooster feels like he is almost being pushed off an edge. He wants you to cum in his mouth so fucking bad, but he is not going to tell you that. He quickens his tongue pulling in and out of you. He pulls one of his hands to very softly rub against your clit. You are now a puddle and desperate for his thorough touch. “Fuck, Roo. I’m-” you start. Each touch leaves you on the brink of overstimulation and pleasure. Your body prioritizes your heaving breaths over speaking. “I’m going to cum! Roo, I’m going to cum,” you mumble as your hips thrust against him.

Abruptly, Rooster pulls from you. His mouth and chin glistening with your slick. Your entire body shoots into madness as you tighten into a ball whimpering. “What the hell,” you softly grumble out. Little did you know, Rooster was pulling his pants down and wrapping up his cock for you.

Once he is set, he pulls at your shoulder and pushes you back onto your back. Your wide eyes watch him in all his glory. His cock rather girthy, leaving your pussy drenched and ready. He leans onto one of his hands again, careful not to pull at your hair. He uses his other hand to guide his cock towards your entrance.

As he circles his dick around your hole, gathering more slick, your body trembles. “P-please,” you cry as your body demands him. In one swift movement, Rooster gradually bottoms out within you and places a hand to your neck. Your chin rises as your mouth gapes open. He groans against you as his thumb and point finger squeeze against your carotid arteries.

Rooster leans into your lips softly. “You feel so good on my cock,” he mumbles as he bites your bottom lip. He pulls away as he continues his slow thrusts into you. You attempt to follow him but his hand keeps your neck down to the mattress. “What do you want?” he softly asks as he looks down at you. “F-faster,” is all you can muster through his strong, jolting thrusts. “What?” he seethes through his teeth as his force quickens. “Faster, please,” you murmur as your eyelids flutter.

Without a care in the world, you are now this man’s fuck thing. You are here to be used and you love it. You watch as he groans against you. His forehead at times landing at the tops of your shoulders as he breathes heavily into your neck. Your nails claw down his back as a pit in your stomach begins to grow. Your hand instinctually begins to rub at your clit while his balls begin to slap against your ass. The sensation leaving you over the moon.

“God, you’re taking my cock so well,” Rooster mumbles as he leans into the palm of his hand at your collar bone. You whimper as you fingers match his thrusting rhythm. Your other hand lowers onto his perfect ass, feeling his muscles push deeper into you. Your moans grow louder. His groans become more animalistic in response. Thank god for that solider stamina. Your toes begin to curl as your body tightens around him.

“Roo,” you whine. “Ask for it,” he demands as his thrusts slow. “Roo, please can I cum?” you lightly ask. He focuses his attention on you as his hand brushes a strand of your hair aside. He places a sweet kiss upon your lips. “Louder,” he whispers against your mouth. You watch in awe of the man atop of you. “Please, I want to cum,” you whine louder. He shakes his head no with a smile pressed against your lips. “Beg for it,” he sternly says.

Your body begs you to give in. Do anything to get yourself the orgasm you desire. “Please Rooster! Let me cum on your cock. Please!” you scream as you grab hold of his torso. Your body grinds against him as you are desperate for more stimulation. He smirks as he leans in and bites your neck. You gasp at the pain. “Good girl,” he whispers into your ear.

“Cum with me,” Rooster invites. Immediately, he pounds the living hell out of you. You feel your entire body shake as both of you smack against each other. You hold on to his torso for dear life as your pussy tightens around him. “Fuck!” you scream. He pile drives harder within you. “I’m cumming,” he mutters out as his dick is so deep inside of you. “Please, Roo. Please cum inside me!” you yell.

Rooster’s groans are intoxicating as he cums heavily within you. You release a deep moan as your walls clasp around his cock. His mouth hangs open as he crumples over you. His body still sending jolts of thrusts within you. You feel light headed and struggle to watch as he cums over you. You want to remember this moment. He looks so fucking hot when he’s cumming inside of you.

Finally, Rooster places his weight atop of you. Your hands wrap around his waist and flow up his back. A hand lands upon the nape of his neck as you lean to plant a kiss on his cheek. You both breathe heavily against each other as you enjoy the comforting embrace. Once he’s caught his breath, he places his lips on your shoulders and up to your neck. You giggle at the ticklish sensation, leaving a beautiful smile upon his lips.

Rooster gives you one last kiss before sitting up and discarding the condom. You smile and assume this is the part where you leave. You twist out of his bed and begin to search for your clothes. He rests on his knees with a laugh. “Where are you going?” he asks. You turn towards him with surprises eyes. “I was going to head out?” you reply confusingly. “You don’t have to go. You can sleep here,” he says as he crashes onto his back. He lightly pats the mattress beside him.

“Oh, um,” you say with your shirt in your hands. In what feels like forever, your mind ponders the different options you have. Your choices are to sleep on Hangman’s couch, sleep at the bunks in the academy, or sleep with the man who just fucked you so hard you could pass out right now. You drop your shirt with a small grin as you crawl over beside him.

Rooster smiles as he wraps his arm around you, pulling you in to be the little spoon to his big. You fit perfectly within his arms. He nuzzles his chin between your neck and shoulder. He whispers, “Night Whiskey.” You smile as you curl over to your back and pull him down for a kiss. “Good Night, Roo.” Never would you have expected something like this, but god damn are you thankful.

You wake up to your phone buzzing on the bedroom floor. Rooster’s arm still rests tight against your hips. His breathing heavy against your ear. With the light shining in from behind his curtains, you recognize that it’s the morning and your alarm is going off. You lightly move his arm and place it beside his resting body. You smile as you watch him innocently snoring away. His bare back shining in the morning sun. His sheets barely covering his lower half. You make a mental note to squash away any feelings this man may have invoked within you.

Leaning in, you place a kiss upon his forehead. “I hope I get to see you again,” you whisper before kissing him one last time. You quickly call an uber and begin to dress up in yesterday’s clothes. You rush your hand through your hair as a makeshift brush. You have about an hour to get to the base, get into your flight suit, and be ready for class. Once your car arrives, you take one last look at him before walking out.

With 5-minutes to spare, you finally crash into the seat beside Hangman for your orientation course at Too Gun. Your hair tightened into a slick bun. “Where the hell have you been?” Hangman asks with a fierce tone. “I’m sorry. I ended up going home with someone, but I’m all good. Still alive,” you respond. “Barely,” you add with a laugh as you bump your shoulder towards him. He takes a deep sigh as he runs his hand on his cheek. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he grumbles. “Yeah, yeah,” you say as you grab a pen for your debrief notes.

“Good Morning everyone,” a voice bustles through the air. You look up to see Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell. Your mouth hangs open as your hero stands in front of you. You have been dying for the opportunity to work with Maverick and the time is finally here. Quickly, you straighten your back to salute to the higher officer. “We are going to need a team of six, F-18s,” Maverick announces. Looking around, you note there are at least 15 people in the room. Let the dog fights begin, you think to yourself.

“Our goal is to land several rounds of missiles onto a well known terrorist hideout,” Maverick continues. “You will be led by team lead Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw,” he says, gesturing to the person beside him. You do not get a good look before you write the team lead’s name down. “Call sign, Rooster,” he adds.

Your entire body pauses. Your hand drops the pen onto your notes as you slowly lift your eyes. You confirm that your team lead is in fact the same Rooster who fucked you so good last night and cuddled you until you fell asleep. He wears aviators with his flight suit, standing tall before the class and beside Maverick. Your eyes cannot help but continue staring at him. Despite the fact that you desperately do not want to make eye contact.

Your eyebrows push together as you struggle to maintain your composure. Hangman notices your sudden shift in body language. He whispers out the side of his mouth, “What’s up?” Unfortunately, the noise draws attention your way. You make eye contact with Rooster. You see a slight twitch of his mouth when your eyes meet. He must not have known either. Oh shit.

note: please let me know your thoughts and chat or comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist! thank you so so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed! high key, already know i'll be writing more of this series for me haha

• nav • no-no plagiarism • series •

#rooster bradshaw fic #rooster #rooster smut #rooster fluff #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster top gun #rooster x you #rooster x y/n #top gun fic #top gun fandom #top gun maverick #pete mitchell #hangman fluff #hangman #hangman x phoenix #rooster fanfic #Bradley bradshaw #fanfic series #fanfic #part one #series writing

[vintage-bentley]

your polls got me thinking…. i think the most irritating part about ineffable hetties is that it’s always crowley they make the woman. which makes aziraphale some straight guy when he’s been the one written as the more flamboyant gay one. like gun to my head if one of them had to be bi I Guess crowley makes more sense just bc he’s less obviously homosexual. but they really like picking on the one that gets called gay slurs and acts more effeminate to be straight or bi. like that just is really telling lol

You’re so right. It’s very clear that much of ineffable hetties comes from either a discomfort with same sex attraction, a genuine hatred for it, or the belief that opposite sex attraction is inherently superior in one way or another. Look at all of the fics and art where Crowley shows up as a woman, and Aziraphale “seducing women? Me? I think you have the wrong shop” Fell is suddenly more attracted to “her” than he’s ever been, as if femaleness was the missing ingredient to getting him to feel true lust (this is also done with just having Crowley wearing ‘women’s’ clothes, which let’s be honest the fandom sees as code for woman lol). There’s clearly an attitude that OSA is somehow better and more interesting, and it’s really frustrating.

As far as Crowley and overt homosexuality goes, though…I’d argue that he’s just as stereotypically gay as Aziraphale, just in a different way. A big part of his character is how fashionable he is, how he’s always pristinely put together and wearing the latest trends. Obviously that’s not an indicator of homosexuality lmao but if we’re purely going by stereotypes, it’s definitely a stereotype that gay men are like that. There was also the little detail of him calling Aziraphale “Lady Bracknell”, which reminds me a lot of how older gay men talk about each other. I doubt that’s the first time he’s done something like that. Then of course in the book, he likes Golden Girls.

And then there’s how he approached the Maggie and Nina issue. When he was in the window trying to get them to kiss, there was no icky or creepy feeling to it like there would be with a straight or bi guy. If he were attracted to women, I think that scene would feel a lot different. And it made it even more important to me to view him as homosexual.

But I agree that to most people, at first glance Aziraphale’s going to come across as very gay, while Crowley might not be as clear. And it’s very obvious that the fandom hates Aziraphale for this, with how often they erase any of his flamboyance and replace it with stereotypical straight guy machoness, and pair him with Sexy Lady Crowley. Homosexuality and the obvious display of it makes them deeply uncomfortable for whatever reason, so they just do the easy thing and replace it with heterosexuality instead of actually taking the time to rethink their perspective.

#asks #anon

[bearsinpotatosacks]

Does anyone have any idea what job Charlie was taking in DC in Top Gun? All I know is that she said it was a major promotion, she went for it, then came back to Mav at the end of the film, but we can assume she may have taken time off or something because she's never mentioned again.

If it's a promotion, then is she doing what she's doing in Top Gun on a larger scale? In Top Gun, she's the one who knows about the MIG-28 and has a PhD in (astro?) physics so is consulting with the Navy about her knowledge of the physics of what the pilots do. So, she knows about the physics of the jets and what they do, and can explain the MIG, and knows all the physics and technological jargon about new and existing jets.

Her promotion could be more consulting then? Maybe with the Navy on a large scale, helping change training on a large scale and work with them to develop newer jets and laws. Or is she more on the intelligence side, since she knows and wants to know about the MIG more?

I wish we knew more but that would require top gun to care about the few women in it's canon which is too much to ask a macho patriotic military film so needed to get my thoughts out of my system here so I can go back to developing a charole fic where Goose and Carole gets divorced and Carole moves to DC and falls for Charlie who's now living there. So I might go for that.

She's promoted to DC to help develop and change the training for naval aviators, and consults on the jets themselves. She works hard and gets promoted to more of a government job working to develop fighter jets, so more travelling and foreign relations.

If anyone else has any other idea then do add on!

#charlie blackwood #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun: #top gun: maverick #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #maverick top gun #nick goose bradshaw #nick bradshaw #goose top gun #bear writes

[yallemagne]

Oh my god. This is why I have no patience for complaints going waaaaah a couple of people on tunglr write fics where Renfield is too complex or Jonathan is too badass or whatever. Like spare me y'all, far worse shit butchering the characters and the themes is distributed to millions every year through musicals, movies and books

Even the worst fanfic writers... I dunno, some of them are very bad... no, no, jokes aside. Even the worst fanfic writers have nothing on fucking Frank Wildhorn and his crew. Dracula das Musical and Jekyll & Hyde the musical romanticize and fetishize rape, murder, and abuse so damn much and they make MONEY off of it. They do it with silly lil catchy songs that draw in audiences that are willing to overlook the bad because "haha this song is so romantic". It's a song about rape, but okay, hun.

You can depict awful things happening or being said without supporting those things. I'll give even the most self-indulgent fanfic writers a chance because that is what fanfic writing is supposed to be: self-indulgent. Even when it's obvious that a fic writer actually does romanticize bad things... it does overall less harm than actual big adaptations.

By rewriting Dracula into a romantic musical where Dracula is the romantic lead, the writers are posing Dracula as being in the right. There is no nuance. His evil actions are EVIL they cause SO MUCH PAIN, but they smush in a few more weepy ballads about being lonely and say "he's actually a good guy once you get over your girlfriend's untimely death and start huffing lead paint". This is unlike, you know, classical tragedies where the main character gets his comeuppance because of some fatal flaw. Dracula does not die at the end of the Dracula musical because of any of his actions or character flaws. He dies because the writers realized at the last second that Dracula getting the girl is a bad ending.

Now, part of this ask is evidently referring a bit to some... recent drama. I've ranted about it before, so I'll spare specifics. Now, Dracula from the Dracula musical is an awful person, but the narrative functionally treats him as the underdog hero of the story. Look at all these cuckolds trying to keep him down. All he's trying to do is harm women, is that so bad? So, when a story depicts a character doing something wrong, the people who adore that character will probably be fine with it so long as the story does not acknowledge those actions as wrong. Because... if your favourite character... did something bad... then, are you bad?

No. Your poor little meow meow is kind of an asshole, I thought you knew this. That's what made you like them, right? Renfield did bad things. It's only fair to acknowledge that. He attacked Seward-- and yes, I know a great deal of y'all were in support of murdering Seward, but he did it so Seward would be unavailable to watch Lucy. He's indirectly responsible for Lucy's death. He's directly responsible for Mina's assault (though he did try to stop it). He tries to atone and gets killed after going against Dracula, but it doesn't take away the damage his actions caused. There's not enough content surrounding Renfield, to be perfectly honest. Though, I dread the writing that will result from that godawful comp-het disaster of a movie coming out.

I've never seen any fics that make Jonathan "too badass", honestly. Most fanfics severely undercut his capabilities and agency because um *whispers* most fanfics are Dracula/Jonathan. For once I want a Dracula 2020 fic that gives Jonathan a gun and fr kills Dracula. But that aside, that aside, even the stories that do make Jonathan "badass"... they don't really. He's strong and sexy, obviously, but that's just canon. The fact they go more in-depth as to how and why he's strong and sexy doesn't make it unbelievable. And those fics don't strip him of his weaknesses, he retains his PTSD. No fanfic like... ever... has made Jonathan a macho man.

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