#(I just miss live music a lot right now. There's some stuff coming up I want to see but don't particularly want to go alone to.) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

miniwheat77 · 1 year

Text

Enough. (Soap x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cheating, arguing (let me know if I missed any.)

(Summary): After Soap gets cheated on, he learns who his real friends are.

(I’ve had this in my drafts for a while, hope you like it.)

You could see the pain in his eyes. The icy blue’s full of tears, but he wouldn’t dare let them fall. Never. He’d let her down again, the woman he thought he cared most about.

He’d been dating a woman named Nadia for almost 2 years. Sure, he’d spent a lot of that time deployed and on missions, but in the time he spent with her, he loved her. He loved being with her. She made him feel complete. But he couldn’t describe these feelings he had. Couldn’t figure it out. He felt dread weighing down on his chest like a brick wall. He felt the freezing cold air nipping at his skin as he sat in the helicopter. It was bringing the both of you back from a mission and he’d opened up to about Nadia.

You both had spent some time in Ukraine, around a month or so. He tried to play it off, tried to explain everything away. “She’s just been through a lot with me, I don’t blame the girl for being done.” He’d said. A sigh leaves your lips. “You said she asked for an open relationship?” You ask. Trying to confirm it. He nods his head. Heart clearly hurting. “Do you want advice from a coworker, or do you want advice from a friend?” You breathe. He looks down. “Which one is goin to be sugarcoated ah?” He laughs. “Coworker.” He snorts. “I’ll take advice from a friend then.” He breathes.

A sigh leaves your lips. “I don’t want to put stuff in your head. But.. when someone asks for an open relationship it’s usually because they’re interested in someone else, or already with someone else. Probably getting sloppy and not trying as hard to hide it. Have you noticed anything different about her?” You ask. He looks down, not liking the words coming out of your mouth. “Uh.. not really.” He says confused. “Any photos of you disappearing off walls? Text messages getting deleted? Weird contacts in her phone?” He looks down. Thinking. “Has she rejected you… sexually?”

“Uh.. yeah.”

“For how long?”

“About.. 6 months now. Anytime I see her she’s just…” he pauses, everything starts to sink in.

The random watch on their dresser, her “work” phone, him finding the toilet seat up.

You watch his eyes widen in realization.

“Shit Johnny…” you trail off. “I’m sorry.” He nods his head. “It’s alright.”

You and Johnny didn’t live far from each other, and would be getting dropped off in the same base to go home from there. But now, Johnny didn’t want to go home. But he knew he had to. When the both of you get off the helicopter, making your way to the parking lot with your bags in hand, you look at him. “Are you going to be okay?” You ask. “Sure, I’ll be fine.” He breathes. “We aren’t married or anything, it’s gonna be just fine.” He sends you a fake smile. “Gimme a hug Sergeant.” You wrap your arms around him. “Let me know if you need anything okay? I got your back.” He nods. “I appreciate it. Same for you.” You throw your bag into your car, turning it on and messing with the radio. Soap is the first to pull out, turning the opposite way of you. You worried about him, knowing this can’t be easy on him.

You pulled out of the parking lot, not ready for the twenty minute drive it’d take to get to your house. The time seemed to bore you, the only thing keeping your mind occupied was the music you had playing. You felt unsettled in your chest, worried about Johnny. He was your friend, your coworker. Of course you’d worry about him. When you pull into your driveway, you hurry inside. The cold weather was almost unbearable. The first thing you do is throw everything down right at the door, and make your way into your bathroom for a hot shower.

Soap pulls into his driveway, noticing a car had been parked behind his girlfriends, as the ground underneath it had been dry. A sigh leaves his lips, this was just proving his suspicions even further. He hoped you were wrong. That it was just a friend. He decides to leave the bag in his truck, he’d unload it later when this is over with. He climbs out, shutting the door behind himself and walking up to the house. Nadia is there, waiting for him. “Johnny.” She smiles. She hugs him but he doesn’t hug her back. “Is something wrong?” She asks confused. “Who is he?” He knows he can’t talk much, his voice will betray him, and break. “Who. Is. He.” He breathes out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I made dinner-“

“Nadia, I know you’re cheating on me.”

She goes quiet, eyes filling with tears. “Johnny he meant nothing to me okay? I-I” he feels his heart shatter right there in his chest. His worst nightmare coming true, his whole world falls apart right in the palms of his hands.

He has no choice but to watch it crumble, with nothing he can do to fix it. “Who?”

“Someone from work.” Johnny closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. “How long?”

She’s quiet again. “Nadia how long.”

“6 months after we started dating.”

Right there. His whole relationship has been nothing but bullshit. “I’m going to leave for the night, Nadia. Want you and everything you own gone. One week.”

“Johnny you can’t do this!” She jumps to stop him as he turned to leave. “No!” His voice booms and she flinches. “I didn’t do this. YOU did this. One week.” He rips open the door, slamming it behind himself. His tires spin out as he pulls out of the driveway. He can’t lie, tears fall freely from his eyes as he drives anywhere but there.

You’re looking through your cupboards, wondering what to eat. You’d gotten rid of everything perishable for your mission with Johnny, meaning you had only box and canned food items. You’re tapping your chin, digging through the cupboards when there’s a knock at your door. You slide off of the countertop, making your way for the door. Surprised when you open it and Soap is standing there. “Johnny? What’s going on?” He laughs, looking down. His nose is red, eyes are bloodshot. “Ya said to let you know if I need anything.” His voice is shaky. “And uh… I need a friend.” He breathes. “Come in.” You usher him inside. “What happened?” You ask. “She uh..” his lip quivers but he turns his head away so that you can’t see it. “I confronted her and she admitted to it, she’s been seeing someone else for most of our relationship.” He nods his head. “Jesus Christ.. I’m so sorry Johnny.” He nods his head, trying to keep himself together. But he can’t. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in for a tight hug. You hated seeing him like this. It made you want to drive over there and punch Nadia right in her stupid face. Johnny was a good man. Kind, gentle, funny. He talked so highly of her. Even planned to ask her to marry him soon. His body shook as you hugged him. “It’s okay Johnny. You don’t have to hide your feelings from me. Let it out.”

“I’m okay. I’ll be fine.” He was meant to reassure you, but really he was reassuring himself. “Do you have clothes to change into?” You ask as he pulls away. “Uh.. yeah.” He shakes. “Go upstairs and take a shower okay? I’ll wash the clothes you’ve got on.” He nods his head. “Thank you Y/N.” He breathes. “You’re a good friend.” You send him a small empathetic smile. “It’s going to be okay Johnny. You have to find someone worth your time.” He nods his head. “I’ll be alright. I’ve got to go grab my bag.” He sighs. You nod your head. He disappears for a minute. He’s brought Nadia over for dinner once before, so he knows where your bathroom is. You decide to order takeout for the both of you while he showers. When he comes back down, he’s got no shirt on. Just sweatpants. You have to draw your eyes away from him. He sits down on the chair across from your couch. “I got takeout. Hope you like Chinese.” He smiles. “Thank you Y/N.” He breathes. “You can stay as long as you need Johnny. You’re always welcome here, don’t forget that.” He nods his head. “Thank you Y/N. You’re a great friend.” He breathes. You smile.

For the next couple hours, the both of you talk about your missions, everything that happened on them. You’re up until ungodly hours of the morning just talking. He takes your guest room and when you finally go to sleep, the sun is peaking through the curtains. Soap loves being around you, you make it easier on him.

After about a week staying with you, he’s ready to confront this. “Hey. Will you go with me to make sure Nadia left my house?” He asks you. “Yeah sure.” He smiles. “I appreciate you so much. I’m sorry I’m making you do all of this.” He sighs. “Johnny, it’s no problem. I really don’t mind so relax.” You smile. “She’s got a track record of accusing me of things I didn’t do so I need a witness,” he breathes. You nod your head, going to get into his car. You can see that he’s tense, so you keep cracking jokes and talking to him to bring him down. His anxiousness is easily readable. When you arrive, he sighs. Her car is still out front. She was supposed to be gone by yesterday. You open the car door, stepping out onto the asphalt. You follow behind Soap, he walks up to the door and tries to use his key to unlock it, but it doesn’t unlock it.

“Fucking hell. She changed the fucking locks.” He growls. “You make the payment, bust a window or something.” You say. “Nah.” He pushes you back, raising his foot and kicking the door until it busts open, hitting the wall and shaking violently. You jump a little bit at how angry he has become. “What the hell!” You hear a woman cry. You are inside behind Soap. “Get your shit and get out.” He growls. “Fuck you John. I’m not moving. This is my house too.” He laughs, a bitter laugh. “Alright, easy enough. Since it’s your house too, you can start making the payments on it.” She’s clearly pissed off too. “I’ll pack my shit, you can buy another lock for that too.” She glares at you. “What is she doing here?” She growls. You smile at her, stepping toward her, your nose only a few centimeters from hers. “I’m here to keep you in line.” You smirk. Johnny smiles, turning his head to walk back into his bedroom. You step away from her, following him back. She follows close behind you. He picks up a duffle bag, digging through the drawers, packing up everything he can think of. “This is so ridiculous. I asked for an open relationship.” She crosses her arms, pouting like a toddler. “You only asked for an open relationship because you were already screwing someone else.” Soap shakes his head. You lean against the door.

“Are you staying with her?” She seethes. “Yes. I am.”

“I’m not okay with that.”

“Okay? We aren’t together so I’ll do as I please.”

“I always knew she’d come between us.”

Soap pauses, looking at her. “She isn’t what did this. You did this. You’re a cheating slut, and it’s your fault.” He shakes his head, lifting his bag up. He’d gathered everything of his by now. What little amount of clothes he had, things out of his bathroom, the rest she could have. He didn’t give a shit. He’s digging through his nightstand, and you’re still where you were with your arms crossed. “Johnny, please don’t leave.” She cries. He shakes his head. “John!” She cries, latching onto his arm. “You can’t leave me for her.”

“She’s my coworker. And I do mean my actual coworker. I’ve never even looked at her in a sexual way. Because that’s how you’re supposed to treat coworkers. Not go behind your boyfriends back and fuck them.” He pulls his arm from her. “Let’s go Y/N.” He groans, moving past you. You follow behind him, a vase shattering over your head has you bending down, hands on the back of your head. You’re stunned for a moment, feeling wetness on your hands. “Are you fucking crazy?!” Soap shouts at her. “I.. I’m sorry- I-“ She’s trying to explain herself. Soap pulls you into the kitchen. Digging around for a first aid kit. “Don’t Soap, let’s just go.” You groan. He nods his hand, passing you a clean dish towel to hold against it. Nadia follows the both of you outside, “John! You can’t leave me like this! I’m pregnant!” He pauses. “We haven’t had sex in over a year. If you’re pregnant, it’s not mine. He looks over the bed of his truck. He’s completely shocked when you swing at her, fist colliding with her nose, sending her back. She lands on her backside, blood spilling from her nose. “That’s for hitting me with a vase, you crazy bitch.” You mumble, opening the door and climbing into the passenger seat. He climbs into the drivers side, driving away. You shake the hand you’d just hit her with and Soap laughs.

The ride back to your house was quiet. You figured Johnny probably didn’t want to talk anymore than he had to. He’d definitely have to patch you up for that.

—

A couple weeks after everything happened, Johnny realized he didn’t have feelings for Nadia like he thought he did. Being without her, not being tied down. It was almost nice. Not having to check his phone every two seconds to respond or she’d get pissed off. Not having to hear her screaming or crying when they weren’t getting along. It was nice. He just didn’t realize how little feelings he had left for her after everything else. You told Johnny to stay for as long as he needed, and you’d even started clearing out the guest room for him to stay in. He was nice to have around. For the most part you didn’t know he was there. He cleaned up his messes, he helped contribute to the supplies in your house, offered to help pay the bills. Of course you wouldn’t let him. But him offering made you feel better. Johnny knew a different version of you than he thought. He seen the walls built up, the thick skinned version of you in the military. But outside of it, you were fun. Went out clubbing with your friends, all kinds of stuff. It started out as fun. Johnny would give you tips on the outfits you wore. Usually tight dresses. Which was a drastic difference from the uniform he was used to you wearing.

Johnny liked being alone in your house at first, but eventually it started to feel different. He didn’t like that you’d rather go out clubbing, probably finding random men to hook up with when he was here. He could keep you company, not them. It took Johnny a couple months of it to realize what was going on. He was starting to grow feelings for you. He kicked himself for it. This went on for a while. Johnny would admire you from afar, and you’d be completely oblivious. Johnny was sitting impatiently on your couch. You were meant to be going out tonight and the thought of you meeting another man ate him up on the inside. But to his surprise, you come down the stairs wearing pajamas. “Thought you were going out?” He asks confused. You laugh, “I’m tired of going out. Those girls have dragged me out more these last couple months than ever.” You smile. “What exactly do you do? Just dance around and drink all night?” He asks. “Um.. kinda. I usually hide in a booth in the back and let them buy me drinks.” You laugh. “Sounds boring.” He laughs. “It is boring.” You sit down next to him on the couch. “Here I was, thinking you were having the time of your life, random hookups, dancing.” He laughs. “Oh god no.” You scrunch your face up. “Johnny have you met me? I’m no man-eater.” You laugh. “What?” He looks confused. “What, you jealous or something?” You joke. But he goes quiet. You turn your head to look at him. “Uh.. here is where you fire back? I’m just screwing with you.” You laugh.

He laughs it off, trying his best to hide how he’s feeling. “How are you Johnny?” You ask. “Oh, I’m great. You know.. my roomate goes out partying and wakes me up at ungodly hours of the night, you know. Awesome.” He laughs. “You can sleep in my bed when I’m not here.” You roll your eyes. “No, I’m not going to do that.”

“Than don’t complain when I wake you up.” You smile. He rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” Your smile falters. “What’s going on Johnny?” He shakes his head. “Nothing. I just.. hate you going out.” You tilt your head, “Johnny. You’re not my boyfriend. I can go out whenever I want. Maybe you should try going out every once in a while. You wouldn’t be so uptight.” you roll your eyes. He laughs bitterly. “Not my fault you have a problem.” He shrugs, you stand up. “What problem do I have hm?”

“Clearly a drinking problem.” You snort. “Oh yeah, because my house is just littered with booze. Right? Oh wait.” You go to walk away. “Don’t know what your problem is Johnny, but you need to fix it. Go get laid or something, asshole.” You mumble, walking away. Johnny gripping your wrist tightly and slamming you into a wall has a gasp leaving your lips. “-the hell MacTavish.” You growl, trying to push him off. He’s so much stronger than you, he doesn’t even budge. He presses his hips into yours and you freeze. “I think you’re right, I do need to get laid. But why would I go out when you’re already here, hm?” His breath is hot on your ear and your cheeks burn. “J-“ a gasp leaves your lips, cutting you off when he lets go for just a second to push your baggy shirt up over your hips. Pushing his hand down your panties. Fingertips brushing over your smooth opening. “Johnny-“ you gasp. “Fuck.. so fucking pretty.” He growls. He’s rubbing circles into your clit, his calloused hands on you causing your heart to thump in your chest. A gasp leaves your lips, when he slides a finger into your opening, body moving up as he pumps it into you. “Thas’ right pretty girl, moan for me.” He attacks your neck with his lips, sucking bruises into your skin. You’re moaning out, pushing your hips forward and moaning out when he adds a second finger. Your eyes are screwed shut and you’re trying to force back to cries that want to leave your lips.

When his lips are finally on yours, he’s needy. Tongue forcing it’s way into your mouth and he’s moaning into the kiss, grinding himself into your thigh. The friction not giving him what he so desperately wants. He draws his hand back, lips still on yours as he lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms moving to wrap around his neck as you kiss him fervently. He moves with you, going up the stairs and pushing your bedroom door open, laying you down on the bed. He doesn’t even waste any time by taking his clothes off. Pulling your panties to the side, not bothering to undo his belt or the button on his jeans. Unzipping them and freeing his cock through the hole. He stops for just a second, eyes meeting with yours as he sinks himself right inside of you, a gasp leaving your lips as he fills you to the hilt. Not even another second later, he’s hammering his hips into you. Your bed slamming into the wall with each of his hard thrusts. You’re moaning out, barely keeping yourself together as he fucks himself into you.

“Oh fuck Johnny!” A gasp leaves your lips when his fingers work their way against your sensitive nub. “So fucking tight.” He growls. Leaning down and attacking your neck with his lips and teeth. You can’t keep back the moans anymore, they’re leaving your lips in strings, panting and crying out when he brushes over your spongy spot. He stops for just a second, propping himself up and spitting on the base of his cock. Thrusting back into you, easier with the wetness of his saliva. He tilts his head back, a moan leaving his lips as he finally takes a second to pull his shirt off. Pushing your baggy shirt up over your hips. He pulls it over your head, moaning out at the sight of your exposed chest. “So fucking beautiful. Been waiting months for this.” He growls. Attaching his lips to your nipple. Feeling you moan out and clench down around him. “Oh fuck.” He groans. Johnny spaces out a little more than he should, but he has to think about literally anything else so that he doesn’t cum too fast. But he can’t. The scratching of your nails on his back, your whimpers and cries. It’s too much. “Fuck-“ he grits his teeth. “Going to make me cum so fast, like a pathetic teenager.” He laughs. You try to laugh but it’s hard as he hammers his hips into yours. “We can switch p- ah!” You whimper when he thrusts right into your spongy spot. “Don’t think we’ll need it sweetheart, can feel you clenching around me already.” He smirks. He steadies his thrusts, slowing them and gripping you tight. A cry leaves your lips and he can see how tense you are as he pushes you closer to your high. Pants leave your lips and cries are following. He’s got a steady pace, cock sliding perfectly into every sensitive part on you. “Clenching so tight around me baby.” He grits his teeth, the muscles in his neck clenching up. “Come with me, cum on my cock. Give yourself to me.” He’s holding off, but his dick is twitching. He’s right on the edge.

A mewl leaves your lips and it’s music to his ears. Your pussy clenching down around him, milking his cock. A groan leaves his lips, followed by a string of curses as he reaches his orgasm. Your pussy tightening down, cries falling from your own lips as you hit your own high, milking his cock with each pulse he feels from you. When the both of you are fucked out and sensitive, he slides out of you. Laying down next to you. “Oh fuck.” He groans. A few minutes of silence is broken by him. “I’m sorry if I pushed you too hard.” He breathes. You laugh. “Don’t be. I liked it. Just caught me a little off guard.” You smile. He pulls you into him. You rest your head on his bare chest. “You could’ve told me sooner, you know.” You laugh. “Yeah well. Not exactly a good conversation starter.” He laughs. You roll your eyes.

“I like you a lot Y/N.” He breathes. “You’re not using me as a rebound are you?” You narrow your eyes at him. “No.” He rolls his eyes. “Been thinking about you since the day we came back. Our last mission together and stuff. Thinking about it too much.” He laughs. “Clearly.” You give him a slight shove. He laughs. “Give me a chance. You’re not a rebound.”

“Fine.” You laugh.

You lift yourself up, straddling his hips. He smirks. Leaning up to kiss you. Smiling when you’re tugging your panties to the side to line himself up with your entrance again, moaning into your lips when you sink down onto him again.

“Gonna be the death of me sweetheart.”

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #soap smut #johnny smut

922 notes · View notes

clowningaroundmars · 2 months

Text

punkflower hcs bc i need to see more of them being cute teen boys together.... like, playful and creative and stuff

looong long wall of text under the cut (no nsfw)

♡ miles and hobie definitely exchange art often, even collabing on some punk zines and graffiti pieces occasionally. hobie also makes mixtapes on cassettes and slaps a million stickers on them just for his bf. miles appreciates the kind gesture but reminds hobie that he doesnt have a cassette player. "yet," hobie tells him with a wink :)

♡ miles draws a million little doodles for hobie on scrap paper, post it notes, hobie's gear, hobie himself. ofc hobie loves them all, esp when he gets to go home with his arms and chest covered in stars, cartoons, graffiti, and hearts

♡ miles is a lot more shy about dancing in public than hobie is, but whenever they manage to have any downtime at all hobie will wrap his arms around miles and sway them around. if music is playing anywhere, hobie will bop to it and get miles to join in

♡ hobie's love language? touch. any kind, anytime, anywhere, for any reason. words of affirmation come next

♡ miles' love language? quality time, and he's big on kissing. hobie isnt much of a kisser but loves his sunflower just the same, and does not complain at all when miles places little kisses on his hands, ears or his back

♡ sometimes hobie will be a lil mean to miles just as a flirty thing. just usual teenage boy stuff like kicking miles' sneakers, manspreading to get into his space if they're sitting anywhere together, using his height to bully miles into a corner away from everyone so they can flirt some more, crashing into miles on purpose just to be annoying

♡ anytime they get to go on multiverse missions together they somehow manage to get into the craziest shenanigans. breaking into a zoo to stop a villain from mutating the animals, saving a group of schoolkids on a field trip from a killer robot (?), one time hobie even drove a runaway car to stop it from crashing right into jamaica bay and miles was scarred for life

hobie tries to control the car as he haphazardly swerves it around pedestrians and barely manages to miss a group of elderly people.

miles clings onto his seat for dear life. "HOBIE!! you're gonna kill us man, where'd you get your license from!?" he yells.

hobie scoffs. "license?! i said i could drive, mate, i aint mention nuthin' 'bout no license!"

♡ hobie's universe is set in the 1970's and living in a dystopian police-state means it's too risky to bring back a phone with him, so he's often left out of spiderkid groupchats. miles still tries to keep him up to date on the latest memes and inside jokes though. they also have their own inside jokes too

♡ hobie wouldn't bring a smartphone with him anyways since he's so mistrusting of tech in general. video games, laptops, and "smart" tech mystify him, and smart watches? forget about it. when miles gets one for christmas one time, hobie clowned on his bf so hard the watch was never seen again

♡ that being said, they love exchanging music often so the only piece of technology hobie ever brings back to his dimension is an ancient half-busted ipod (it was probably rio's at one point) filled with music miles managed to download for him that week. spiderman-ing and living as a homeless teen means hobie doesn't get much time to explore genres outside of the UK punk scene and listening to brand new genres is often a trip! hobie finds out he loves drum n bass, grindcore, industrial techno, UK drill, deep house and 90's hip hop

♡ hobie gets miles to make him cool posters for whatever venue he plans on (or doesnt plan lbr) playing at every now and then

♡ rio LOVES hobie. hobie is the perfect gentleman (gentlespider?) around her and often tries to help her around the house when he can. miles... does not enjoy how much his mom favors his partner. jeff is also not so crazy about this smart-mouthed punk

♡ miles and hobie absolutely swap clothing as often as possible, with hobie "borrowing" miles' clothes more often. miles' parents keep commenting on how much of a rockero he looks with all the punk stuff and hobie never returns clothes without having altered them in some way (pins n bits everywhere, a mysterious rip or two here n there, pinned-up sleeves, etc)

♡ miles is absolutely horrible at cooking and feels left out when he sees hobie helping his mom in the kitchen. he desperately tries to learn, but it's a wonder how he hasnt sliced his fingers off yet trying to peel and cut platanos so they can make tostones

♡ for a person who's built like a lamppost, hobie is shockingly graceful with his movements. he always slips around a room like a cat and miles is so jealous of that. long gangly limbs should be a deterrent from moving like That and yet here he is, practically pirouetting around miles for fun

♡ which is a total TRIP when they go out swinging around a city. once the mask is on, every movement hobie makes is chaotic, frantic and unpredictable. spiderpunk and hobie are very different people sometimes

♡ rio often points out hobie's thinness as a typical hispanic mom does ("jóven, pero tu 'ta tan flaco, hobie honey come eat! i have leftovers here!") and miles also agrees that hobie could eat a lil more too. he is always sneaking bits of food into hobie's pockets or bags, saving fries and last slices for his partner. sometimes hobie brings home armfuls of tupperware filled with caribbean food back to his boat

♡ in return, hobie is like a magpie and brings back shiny gifts for them, some handmade stuff too. miles' drawers and nightstand are filled with jewelry, bottles, knickknacks, and other handmade accessories. his walls are filled with collages and zines hobie makes for him and rio bought frames for some of the pieces he makes her

♡ the first person to say "i love you" was miles, but by accident. after realizing it, he was nervous as hell worrying that hobie would clown him to death since he didnt seem like a big romantic. instead, hobie went nuts about it in his own hobie way, writing lyrics about miles' face when he said it, doodling them together more often, teasing miles about it often but lightheartedly. he flaunts miles' love whenever he can

♡ miles has a lethal puppydog face and he KNOWS it! one 🥺 look and hobie immediately folds and gives miles whatever he wants. but not before hemming and hawing about it first, playing up his hesitation just to make miles laugh

♡ speaking of laughter, hobie does Thee Most just to see his bf laugh or smile. he will always goof off in the bg, crack jokes every 2 secs and pretend to get hurt sometimes. hobie is naturally sarcastic and goofs off in general anyways but around miles he dials it up to 200

♡ hobie tries to get miles in on the whole anarchism thing but 1. the texts and manifestos from his dimension are different than miles' and 2. miles is a teen boy. he doesn't know anything about the theory of alienation or effective mutual aid and won't really care at the moment. "mm, you'll learn all 'bout it soon enough, though... eventually," hobie muses

♡ miles is not as big on pet names as hobie is. hobie has like 24984 nicknames for miles but miles mostly sticks to just calling his partner by his name. one day during history class tho a lightbulb moment happens, and when they meet up again miles is excited

"hobie!! guess what, i really got it this time. i have a nickname that i know you're gonna love!"

"spill," hobie says as he throws an arm over miles' shoulders.

"so you always call me sunflower all the time, right? and your name is ho... bee. get it? so i was thinkin' i'm gonna call you 'honey bee' now. y'know, you're not the only one who's got corny ass nicknames! it's good, right?"

hobie has to fight not to grin like a jackass

♡ hobie's sleep schedule is atrocious so whenever miles can manage it, he tries to wrestle his partner into any bed and tucks him in. hobie is touched that his sunflower cares so much about him ♡

♡ miles almost never gets permission to sleep over other friends' houses but on the rare occasions he does, he leaps into portals and goes to visit hobie in his dimension. his fave part of New London is hobie's boat, bc they set up a big hammock for them to lay in, feeling the sway of the boat and letting it lull them to sleep. not to mention that the boat itself is totally badass, and hobie more often than not encourages miles to cover it in graffiti

♡ hobie lowkey (but highkey) loves when miles gets a little bossy, forceful or stern. he loves ribbing miles about it (the "ill do it, but not cuz you told me to" line in mumbattan was a total joke from hobie btw LOL) and saying corny shit in response to a demand, but he loves seeing miles being confident and calling the shots every once in a while. it makes him proud

♡ if they can, miles and hobie try to gather up as much food as they can and take it over to the F.E.A.S.T. that's in hobie's dimension. miles meets hobie's "family" there and gets to know the community, which feels so much more tight-knit and welcoming than Visions. once miles gets over the major jarring differences between his world and hobie's, he finds he LOVES New London

♡ miles and hobie teach each other slang from their countries and time periods, you can't change my mind. miles walks around saying shit like "bloody 'ell" and "septic" all the time. the one time hobie said "deadass" completely unironically, all of the spiderkids DIED laughing

♡ miles learns that EVERY spider is a total dweeb in some way shape or form. even hobie! hobie's awkwardness comes out when theyre in big groups of people. hobie is oddly comfy with performing in front of crowds but when he's invited to parties and tries mingling, it's so... sooo awkward. miles secretly rejoices when he finds out hobie's weakness

♡ i'm an adhd hobie truther and i hc that miles buys hobie the weirdest fidget toys he can get his hands on. along with his switchblade, jewelry, and whatever he stole that day, hobie carries various different fidget toys in his vest to keep boredom at bay

♡ hobie definitely writes songs for miles but takes a very very very long time to actually admit it. miles finally finds out when one of hobie's songwriting notebooks falls open when hanging out in his boat, and hobie comes clean about it. with miles' encouragement tho, hobie makes the decision to add some of those songs into the usual setlist his band performs

♡ if miles ever has time, he tries to attend whatever gig hobie and his band has going on. he loves to see hobie perform on stage, his energy and stage presence is always electrifying

#mine #across the spiderverse #punkflower #miles morales #hobie brown #stupid ass tumblr posted my 1st draft completely randomly while i was in the middle of writing this #so uh if theres any mistakes its cuz i had to rewrite ALLLL of this in my notes app #hope yall enjoy tho ♡#i am relatively new to this fandom.... kinda? well specifically punkflower #so if these hcs are basically fanon i wouldn't know lol i just skimmed the tag on tumblr recently #im going purely off of Vibes and movie/comic canon #ive seen some good takes in the tags as well and those inspired me too!!#so ye hehehe #these 2 are giving me brainworms my god i havent even written hcs for my other OTP #i should.... probably get started on that since i kinda had fun writing this!#and uh if theres mistakes you noticed at all i also wrote most of these while.... zooted as well. so. yeah lol #spiderverse

71 notes · View notes

mysticficti0n · 4 months

Note

Tom and Y/n HATE each other (well she hates him but he gets little butterflies from her sometimes heheheh but like he still doesn't like her) but she still is around a lot of the time bc she's Georgs cuz and she lives with his family (come up with something bc idk) and she helps produce TH music and is like their photographer kinda?

and in the first part she's like getting ready for a date and stuff happens and tom takes her for some reason yeah and he gets rlly pissed at her but then she wants to get picked up from this guys house and tom is the only one who picks up so yeah- enjoy writing this if you do ❤️

Oh em ghee- kinda jelly I didn't come up with this but I love it so so much

Happy new year everyone! I really like this idea and making it a new series bc why not, and don't worry All my attention is coming back this 2024!!! I havent preread this before posting because im tired as shit its literally 3:07 am so ♥︎

Get over it Part One

∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞　

warnings- swearing, mentions of sex, clubbing, kissing

words- 1.6k

I sat in my mirror with music blasting in the background, Bill sat on my bed flicking through a magazine with a cig hanging from his mouth "Is a red lip too much?" I asked turning to the boy who looked up from the pages

"depends what you're wearing" I got up and grabbed my little blood red dress, black lace dressing the bottom and the u-neck shape at the top "red lips all the way" I smiled sitting back down and grabbing my red lipstick and swiping it on

"Knock Knock" a voice called outside and then three people wondered In "what the fuck are you doing" Gustav laughed shoving me

"whats it to you" he shrugged sitting himself down along side Tom, Tom never looked happy unless he had some whore sucking his cock or a smoke in his hand, I stood grabbing my dress and walked out into the bathroom, I left the door open slightly as I knew they'd be asking questions

"where she going Bill?"-"not my place to say"-"oh come on"-"nope"-"well she looks like she's going to be payed to fuck a guy"-"watch your mouth thats my cousin remember" I smirked listening to their conversation, I finally got the dress on and twirled in the mirror but realised I couldn't do the button at the back, so reluctantly I held the dress up around my side and went back to my room

"can one of you do the button please" I turned my back to the group and soon I herd the sound of shuffling and someone standing behind me

"is it just this one?" the voice of Tom rang behind me and I nodded, why him out of everyone out the room? gently his fingers brushed against my skin as he pushed the button through the loop "done" he said barely above a whisper

"thanks" I spoke walking to grab my heals, I quickly slipped my feet in and stood to look back at the guys "right well I have a date to go to but I need someone to take me- who's that gonna be?" I looked to Georg first

"erm.. well I don't have my car- Tom is the only one with one" a sigh escaped my lips but it was him or nothing and I missed my date

"fine- come then" I grabbed my bag and looked to Tom

"now?" he spoke

"yes now get up were going" The boys all stood leaving my room Bill switched off my stereo then we all went down stairs and I headed for the front door closely followed by Tom "bye guys" I yelled before walking out, Toms car clicked and unlocked

"you know-" before he could finish I closed the car door and buckled my belt, Toms side opened and he climbed in "you are such an ungrateful bitch" I laughed staring ahead "I could just not take you- get that in your fucking head"

"yet your still in the fucking car with me" he rolled his eyes staring the engine "drop me at Sarahs court" we sat in silence, no radio, no nothing until we hit a red light, I could see Tom's eyes scanning me up and down "issue?"

"your dress is very showy, do you even know the guy you're seeing?" I smiled knowing exactly who it was, and So would Tom

"thought you liked slutty things, like your girl-" he cut me off my throwing me a gaze "oh and I'm meeting Brandon, Brandon Quick" I watched as his jaw dropped slightly, eyes turning thin

"you are a fucking cunt" no words were shared after that, he stayed quiet, I knew I lit the fire now and all I could keep doing was adding to it

"Yeah he called me last night, told me he missed me and wanted to see me again, asked me to wear his favourite dress.... favourite lip, and no panties either" I kept pushing watching Toms face curl into one of pure anger, before I knew it we were at Sarahs court and he slammed on the breaks. I pulled the sun-visor down and opened the mirror checking my make up, I looked to Tom once more, his face was contorted into a frown, I didn't bother saying anything and just climbed out.

I walked around the car and saw the calming face of Brandon "hey sweetheart" he spoke coming over, hand wrapping around my waist, pressing a kiss to my cheek "who brought you?" he spoke looking behind me

"just Tom- he was the only fucking one with a car" I laughed turning to see that his car was still there with him just staring at me

"I'll come say hi" I grinned knowing this would only piss him of further, together me and Brandon walked over and I pulled open the driver door "hey man whats up?"

"mhm whats up" Tom spoke, his voice low

"eh nothing much, thanks for bring madam, promise to have her home by 9" he joked, looking down at me, I purposefully cuddled to his chest, drawing circles on his peck

"great- well I'll go now" Tom grabbed the door slamming it shut and started the engine

"whats wrong with him?" the boy spoke with a tone of sarcasm

"whats never wrong with him?" I laughed pulling Brandons head down to meet mine in a kiss, there was no denying it Brandon was hot, his brown messy locks, blue eyes, a smile that was contagious, perfectly toned body, tattoos covering his torso, he was beautiful

--- Time Skip ---

I lay there, on Brandons chest, tonight was amazing, dinner, the club and the sex but I couldn't fall asleep at all, my mind was everywhere and I just felt like going home, but the only way I could get home was Tom, I sat up and went to get my phone "hey everything okay?" Brandon's voice spoke quietly, his hand rubbing my back

"yeah sorry, I'm gonna go okay, I need to be up early tomorrow" I lied, I did feel bad but I felt bad saying the truth, I'd slept over many times but today... I just couldn't this time

"Okay babe- text me when your back" I nodded leaning down pressing a kiss to his lips softly, it took a lot to pull away but I did, I grabbed my dress, shoes and bag, pulling my phone out and going out side of the house, wrapping myself tighter in his jumper, I went through my contacts before seeing Toms and I clicked call, within seconds it was answered

"what?"

"can you come get me"

"why?"

"I cant sleep and I wanna come home and you're the only one with a car"

"Y/n its fucking 4 am"

"you answered straight away so don't tell me you weren't awake" I spat

"fine-" I gave him the address and he told me five minuets, I sat on the wall at the end of the house, staring onto the quiet street until the bright lights of Toms car cleared the darkness. I got up and opened the car door to find Tom still in the clothes he was wearing earlier and a cig in his lips

"thanks for getting me" he nodded blowing smoke away

"yeah- don't think I'll do this again alright" I nodded, I felt to tired to really answer, or argue his car was warm and I was quite warn out already "why are there tear stains down your face?" he spoke, his voice slightly concerned, I hadn't even noticed anything with my face, I'd been so concentrated on other things

"oh erm... it doesn't matter" I yawned closing my eyes, it wasn't like I was hurt or anything

"no why the fuck have you been crying" I sighed opening my eyes, looking to the boy

"me and Brandon fucked okay" Tom breathed looking back to the road "better now?" and he just nodded, I closed my eyes again and soon everything was quiet.

soon I felt cold wash on my body until two arms wrapped around me, I let myself hook my arms and legs around whatever had me, my head falling into the crook of their neck "hm- thank you"

◇─◇─Toms POV─◇─◇

I did stay up- is it because I cared- no... I was more worried something was going to happen, I knew Brandon, he was my old best friend all through school till he got with my girlfriend while we were on tour. He was known to hurt his dates, not physically but emotionally and seeing those streaks down her face just made something burn inside my chest. I kept driving until I made it back to her house, the Listing's house.

"okay Y/n-" I turned my head to see her asleep "fuck" I hit my head of the back of the seat, it was to late to call Georg to come get her, and her aunty and uncle couldn't know she was getting back at 4:15 in the morning.

I got out and walked to her side, opening the door and unbuckling her seat belt, slowly I pulled her out from the car and let her body wrap onto mine "hm- thank you" she whispered into my neck, her breath cool against my skin, I walked us toward the door, I went to her bag and pulled out the keys, I had no other choice, and let us in.

silently I began walking up the stairs, she was quietly snoring into my shoulder as I held her going to her room, I gently pushed open her door and set her on the bed, taking her belongings and put them on the desk "okay Y/n lie down" I whispered helping her lie back and pulling her sheets onto her

"my head hurts" she spoke again, without thinking my hand went to her head, I rubbed small circles and scrapped her hair back soothingly, a small smile appeared onto her lips before soft snores filled the room again. I took one last look before coming away, I went to her window, pulling it shut, closing her curtains and finally shutting her door. she wouldn't remember any of this... hopefully

Like I don't care about her but- she does mean something to me, but she couldn't know that

69 notes · View notes

suugarbabe · 6 months

Note

Hellooo I'd like to request something:

So it's with George Weasley and the reader and him are classmates (so they know eachother but kindly mind their own business). The reader is muggleborn and a big fan of old muggle music (I'm thinking of maybe something from the 60s/70s like the Beatles, Pink Floyd etc. but you can choose some other if you want) and kinda has like a similiar style (don't know how to describe it, maybe like flare jeans or something?) and totally lives and loves it. But they get bullied from some idiots about it and about being muggleborn and about nobody knowing "their kind of people". So maybe one day the reader gets bullied really hard (calling names, laughing at them etc.) and George sees it and helps them and then they become really good friends and he learns a lot about muggle music and starts loving it. And then - BOOM - one day both realise that they want more than friendship but it's kinda complicated telling eachother? So all in all it's friends to lovers.

It would be cool if you write it but only if you have the time, no pressure! If you aren't able to at the moment it's completely fine ♡

Have a nice weekend (btw I really like your fanfictions)

Babes I'm not sure what more I can do, you wrote the blurb already in your request! That's freaking great, like you did it, I can add a little extra but you did this babes!

You had always thought George was the softer twin. Whereas they were both boisterous and always pranking and loud, Fred just seemed more 'in your face' where George was more observant. Maybe that's how he found himself standing up for you after a particularly nasty group of Slytherin's were bullying you.

They were calling you names, making fun of how you dress when you weren't in school attire, calling it 'old' and 'groovy' and 'ancient', calling you 'four eyes' but George had seen you before and thought your style was rather cute and that your glasses complimented your facial features. He also now had another excuse to jinx some Slytherins.

You had thanked him when he saved you, full intentions on walking off but instead he asked where you were headed and if you needed company. That was the day you spend several hours in the library, you telling him about muggle movies and music and he knows a little bit of what you're talking about since his dad works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Dept. at the MOM, but the way you talk about it makes it so much more interesting.

Neither of you realize you've missed dinner until Fred comes looking for him, surprised to (1) find his brother in the library and (2) find him talking to a girl he's never seen before. George makes plans to meet with you again, and you're taken aback at first, but agree to meet with him.

So you start hanging out more, start showing him your old record player that was your dad's and all the old music and George is in love with it all, telling you that he thinks it's more magical than most stuff he's experienced.

And when he asks you to the yule ball your confused, because he could ask anyone, but George has never been more sure of anything in his life.

With him being in Gryffindor and you in Ravenclaw you opted to go for golden color dress (it matched most closely with both houses and also complimented your glasses frames).

When you met George at the bottom of the Ravenclaw steps you nearly took his breath away, and it was at that moment he knew he never wanted anyone else.

George could do nothing but smile on the dance floor watching you enjoy yourself and playfully criticising wizard music, "Not to say anything bad about wizarding music, all music is great if the listener likes it, but I know quite a few muggle songs that I'd much rather listen to right now."

And George would smile and nod in agreeance while he swayed with his hands on your waist, watching your lips as you talked so enthusiastically only to be suddenly cut off by his lips on yours.

You respond immediately, hands finding trace in the hair at the base of his skull pulling him closer. And when you finally break away, both breathless, chests heaving, George just smiles and tells you to continue what you were saying, that he just had to kiss you quickly before he got to scared later.

#george weasley x reader #george weasley fic #nonny bo bonny #george weasley fluff #weasley twins

106 notes · View notes

vax-merstappen · 3 months

Text

home (aa23)

summary: after a stressful day at work, you come home to find that your boyfriend has returned early from a race.

this is my first time writing a fic like this, so i hope it’s alright! please send me requests for more fics or prefs! i only have so much inspiration of my own lol

It seemed like your coworkers always had it out for you. Thomas couldn’t be have been bothered to send you the files you had been asking him for since last week. Mallory couldn’t solve her own problems, so you had to solve them for her. And on top of it, your boss had given you an assignment that she needed done by the end of the day… an hour before your shift ended. Needless to say, the stress had piled up.

You did your best not to have a breakdown in the parking lot of your office or on your drive home. Instead, you put on some sad music to accompany your drive. Usually you would call Alex if he wasn’t busy on your way home. Unfortunately you knew that today he was wrapping up some work with Williams after the last race. He had placed fairly well and you didn’t want to interrupt him or bring down his mood. So you drove home alone.

You parked the car and began to let it all out. The pent up tears of frustration came pouring out. You thought that no one could see you in your car and you were safe to be vulnerable for a minute. The sobs came on harder and you banged a fist against the steering wheel before a sudden moment caused you to look up.

Your boyfriend Alex was standing on the stairs to your house, holding a bag in his hand, a shocked expression on his face. That couldn’t be right? He wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow?

Alex quickly ran down the stairs and opened the door to the car.

“Babe? What’s wrong?” he asked kneeling down with concern.

“Work,” you mumbled.

“Hey, it’s okay baby, do you want to talk about it?”

“No. I want to go inside.”

Alex nodded and held your hand. He grabbed your bag with your work stuff and the two of you made your way into the house. You noticed that Alex had set up candles around the living room and poured two glasses of wine. The smell of takeout food drifted through the air from the kitchen and a bouquet of roses sat on the couch.

Alex sighed and examined the room. “Hey, I didn’t know you had a bad day, I can just clean all this up if you want to be alone. I’m sorry...”

“Don’t,” you cut Alex off before he could continue. “I like it.”

“You do?”

“Yes, babe,” you sighed, tears of love springing into your eyes. “I can’t believe you surprised me.”

“Anything for you. Now where do you want to start?”

The feelings from your terrible day slipped away as they were replaced with love from your incredible boyfriend.

“Right here,” you said, gesturing to the couch. “I just want to be with you. It’s been so long.”

He nodded and grabbed two blankets from the table next to the couch. “I’m sorry, babe. I wish I could be around more.”

“I knew you’d travel a lot when I started dating you. It’s fine, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss you.”

The two of you curled up on the couch and you felt comforted by Alex’s embrace. He had a way of making you feel so loved.

“Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” he asked. “Normally you call me with a rant about your terrible coworkers.”

You shook your head. “None of that matters anymore now that I’m here. They can ruin my job but they can’t ruin my time with you. Nothing can ruin my time with you.”

“I’m sure I could find something that could ruin our time, maybe a tickle fight? Or I could make a really annoying joke?”

“Don’t you dare try, Albon, don’t you dare.”

Your eyes were closed but you could sense him smile.

“I would never hurt my perfect girlfriend. Never.”

“So I’m perfect now?”

“Always have been.”

#alex albon x reader #alex albon x you #alex albon x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 fanfic

125 notes · View notes

c-schroed · 5 months

Text

Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) Or Why The Probably Most Accurate Movie Adaptation Of Dracula Still Is Not Accurate Enough

I mentioned some time ago - while salivating over the marvellous razor scene of Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula adaptation - that there is quite some stuff to unpack here. And now I found some time to unpack. So let's begin. I'll start with the good stuff, firstly the good stuff that's not in the book (i.e., the Flourishes), than the good stuff that's true to the book (the Well-Conserved). Thirdly, I'll make note of things that were, unnervingly, changed (by which I mean They Came Back Wrong), and then I'll deal with what is unfortunately left out from the book (the Missing). And finally, finally I'll rant over that one bad thing that never was in the book in the first place (a section I'll call JUST WHY?).

So. A tragedy in five acts. Here we go.

Act I - The Flourishes

The razor scene. I think I dealt with this enough by now. It's perfection and I'll die on that hill.

The music. Obviously, Bram Stoker's gothic lil masterpiece is lacking some gorgeous score. But mourn no longer, because Wojciech Kilar cooked up some dashing, pushing tune for us, fitting perfectly to this dark tale of spreading darkness and deepening madness.

Some basic knowledge about blood groups. Yeah, Stoker can't be blamed for this, but still. It's a nice addition to remind us that we do indeed live in a world where blood groups exist.

The Westenra Estate. As much as I pity that the lovely town of Whitby did not make it into the movie, I do love Lucy Westenra's house. Because I'm a sucker for hedge mazes. Simple as that.

Those glasses. Those. Fucking. Nice. Glasses.

Act II - The Well-Conserved

The plot in general. Yes, there are a lot of maddening differences, as we will see soon. But still, this movie at least makes the impression that most of the people working on it had indeed read the darn novel. Which is something that I can't say about many other Dracula adaptations I have seen.

The costumes, the sets, the atmosphere. Well done, everyone!

The Actors. The good thing about being not native in a language is that one is not very prone to dialects that seem off. And as I happen to not be a native speaker of English, I have little problems with Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder adding some US touch to what should be very, very, v e r y British characters. I even find Reeves perfectly fitting for the oh so darn young Jonathan Harker. And the rest of the cast is marvellous, too (with the exception of Winona Ryder, see below for details). Especially Tom Waits, who is hard-wired to the name of Renfield in my brain ever since I first saw this movie. And Gary Oldman as Dracula… Well. I think I already made clear what opinion I have about that sexy bastard.

Some lucky few of lovely quotes made it over to the film. Dracula's welcome. The Fowl Bauble of Human Vanity, of course. And Qunincey almost making me faint when saying "Little girl" when I least expected it.

Act III - They Came Back Wrong

The dates. Goshdarnit, the dates! It's an epistolary novel, so why make the effort of making up completely new dates for events that already had a precise date in the novel? I just don't get it. And it unnerves me. Every. Fucking. Time.

Time in general. Watching the movie after Dracula Daily makes it feel so very, very hasty. Jonathan travels to Castle Dracula like it's no thing at all. And the first few days in Castle Dracula are condensed into one weird evening.

Dracula meeting Mina before Jonathan is back. I really, really loved the book for avoiding the most terrible tropes. And then comes this movie, and struts right into this terrible pitfall.

Mina. I'm sorry, usually I love the work of Winona Ryder, but here she was way too bland. Maybe it was because her character had quite a revamp (ha. ha.) and no one cared to tell her what new approach she should take. But whatever reason, the clever, adorable train fiend of the original did not deserve this!

Act IV - The Missing

The Voyage of the Demeter is way too short. Where is "But I am captain, and I must not leave my ship"? Where is the poor sea captain tying himself to the wheel? And where is his funeral? Oh, I really missed all that. And, I mean, I don't mind hearing Anthony Hopkins read the lines, but would it have been such an expense to at least hire an additional actor to voice the correspondent or the sea captain?

Jonathan Holding Mina By the Arm. That's really not an objectively big issue. That's just me who fell in love with JonMina after reading this chapter. And almost no one does it properly. They deserve justice!

(Thanks a ton to @smieska for capturing my mood just perfectly!)

Act V - JUST WHY?

Elisabeta. Don't get me wrong here: All of the oh so tragic Drac backstory they invented for this movie is terribly unnecessary. But in this sea of uselessness, the tragically deceased wife of Vlad Țepeș that just so happens to perfectly resemble Mina Murray is an audience-insulting island of unoriginality. I mean, yeah, I guess someone wanted to add some romance to the story of Vlad the Fucking Impaler. Because, well, nineties or so. But Mina, of all women? Why not invent some new character that can be bothered with such stuff? Why ruin an all-nice JonMina ship? I don't get the whole new backstory, and I especially don't get this aspect.

Dracula raping Lucy in his shitty werewolf form. Everything about this is wrong. And it has no relevance for the plot. Just. Blergh.

Epilogue

It's cruel to watch Francis Ford Coppola's take on Dracula right after finishing @re-dracula. I know that now. Everything is still too fresh. It's a good movie, after all, but especially because it's quite good it is frustrating to be so terribly aware of all its shortcomings. In a few weeks or so, I would recommend it, again, I guess. As long as it's still Dracula Off-Season. 7 out of 10 points.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #dracula 1992 #bram stoker's dracula #dracula movie #francis ford coppola #keanu reeves #winona ryder #anthony hopkins #tom waits #dracula daily #jonmina #jonathan harker #mina harker #movie recommendation #movie review #schroed's thoughts

83 notes · View notes

greyskyflowers · 6 months

Text

I wore some new earrings the other day, big ones. They were that cheap gold color with the post attached to a big circle with a bar hanging behind it.

It chimed everytime I moved my head or fixed my hair. Tbh I thought it would get annoying fast but it was such a gentle, soft thing.

Just a little ting every now and then.

I mention Zoro's earring in a lot of my stuff about him because that's just something I love about his character.

You associate things with people whether you realize it or not. Sounds, smells, food, memories, feelings. That's all there, even if its not on a level we're aware of.

I had a piece of cake the other day and I was immediately filled with homesickness. I could not figure out why. It was just a store bought vanilla cake. It wasn't even from a place that I shopped when I lived with my family, so it shouldn't have tasted familiar. Especially not enough for me to feel so homesick.

I tried to figure out why that cake was so familiar for days, until I finally figure it out.

The cake had been put in the refrigerator to keep and the cold had made the taste and texture almost identical to a vanilla cake my mom always made from scratch on my birthday. I probably wouldn't have felt homesick if the cake hadn't been cold. It just worked out in a way that trigger those memories I didn't even know I remembered.

I still associate a certain type of cologne with my middle school boyfriend.

I can still remember the feel of my freshman best friend's carpet when we'd lay on the floor.

I still remember the sound of my grandma calling and using a over the top fake british voice to sing happy birthday to me.

All those memories triggered by little things.

Isn't that so amazing? How can anything ever be gone if all it takes is a bite of cake to take me back home?

Or the smell of someone walking past me in the store takes me back to middle school and the butterfly feeling of holding hands for the first time.

Or taking my shoes off, sinking my toes into soft carpet, and seeing my old friend smile at me from a hazy memory.

Or a over the top fake voice on the tv that makes me miss my grandma fiercely.

That's all a little off track but I think relating ideas to our own experiences is how things become truly personal and heartfelt. I like to let people know my train of thought and hopefully evoke those feelings in you as well.

Back to the point.

I love the idea that the little chime of Zoro's earrings is probably buried in so many memories that the crew isn't even aware of.

How amazing that such a soft sound is associated with someone like Zoro?

How many times do they hear someone else's jewelry chime and look up expecting to see green hair and three swords?

How many times, during those two years apart, did they fill up with hope when they heard a little ting noise only to realize it wasn't the one they wanted?

How many times have they been scared or hopeless and that little chime whispered you're okay to them as Zoro appeared?

All of them having to get used to it when they join, how it constantly chimes with the beeeze or Zoro's movements.

The slow and unknowing shift into a comfort rather than a annoyance.

The same way I imagine Luffy's hat rustling, Nami's bracelets clicking, and so on, are all comforts.

I like to think they can sleep better when they hear the chime everyone in a awhile.

That sometimes, when they get lucky enough to sneakily snuggle up next to Zoro when he's napping and soak up all the heat he constantly gives off, that the little ting of the earrings right next to them is the best sound in the world.

A weariness that comes when they can't hear it and they should, like going into the country from a big city. The lack of noise is startling, because even when it's quiet in the city, it's full of noise. There's cars in the distance, the occasional horn or siren, the neighbor under you playing music, kids playing in the parking lot, the refrigerator humming and the cat purring.... All that becomes background noise you weren't even aware of. Zoro's earrings are always there under all the noise, sometimes it's louder when they don't chime than when they do.

The happiness of setting sail after each adventure and on to the next one, Luffy's laugh coming from his spot up front, and the hardly audible chime of Zoro's earrings that they know is accompanied by a lazy grin.

#just another zoro post 💁‍♀️#one piece #zoro #luffy #nami #mugiwara crew #straw hats #once again im here to promote poly and/or qp strawhats #everybody is a little in love with zoro and i will not be taking any further questions at this time #setting sail with greyskyflowers

137 notes · View notes

slut-for-evans-stan · 6 months

Text

I've got you.

Pairing: Pete Brenner x reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff!!

Summary: after a bad day at work, the reader comes home to her husband Pete who showers her with his love, making her forget all her worries.

(I feel that aside from all the douchiness, Pete is a softie and a very caring lover)

Requested by: @maximeverstappen

a/n: this is my first ever fic in years and I've no clue how stuff works on Tumblr. This is not proofread, please pardon me for errors if any! I tried my best :')

Please like, comment and/or reblog, it'll make me really happy <3

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

To say her day at work was exhausting and grueling was an understatement. From the moment y/n stepped foot in the office, something or the other kept going wrong, and most of it wasn't even her fault but being the Team player she was, she took a big part of the blame on herself.

To add to her misery, while in a hurry she almost tripped down the stairs, the impact of trying to regain balance hard on her left ankle but she had no time to pay attention to that, rushing to get her superior's signature on the required documents.

Y/n was so caught up with her tasks that she didn't even bother having anything for lunch, just wanting to get done with all the workload so she could relax.

Around 4:55 pm, she breathed a long sigh of relief shutting off her laptop and settling her belongings, having finally finished all the work that was in her cup for the week. All she wanted now was to go home and cuddle with her husband till she fell asleep. After locking up her cabin and telling her

"see you tomorrow"s

to fellow colleagues, she left the office walking to the parking lot and getting in her car to drive off.

Once in her car, she checked her phone for the first time since she left for work this morning, seeing about 10 missed calls and texts from her husband, Pete. They'd usually facetime each other during their lunch breaks, eating together and talking about how their day was going so far but today she didn't get the opportunity to do that either. Y/n opened his chat and told him that she's on her way back, apologizing for not calling or responding to his texts and that she had a terrible day at work. Starting her car and playing some calming music she set on her way back home.

Around half an hour later, Pete heard the sound of her car, smiling to himself, excited to finally see y/n after a busy day. Before she could even ring the doorbell, the door to their home opened and she was welcomed with the sight of Pete looking ever so handsome in just his pajamas. Dropping her handbag, y/n immediately jumped right into his arms, hugging him and he held her tight and stayed like that for minutes. When they parted, she had her hands around his neck. He saw tears in her eyes and caressed her face, planting a soft kiss on her lips and temple, smiling, and softly whispered

"It's okay baby, it's okay. I've got you".

He held her hand leading her inside their home. As they entered the living room, y/n was greeted by the warm scent of dinner being prepared in the kitchen, which made her very aware of how hungry she was. Right after Pete had received y/n's text, he'd made up his mind on making her feel better in whatever ways he could. He turned y/n around and said

"Dinner will be ready soon sweetheart, I've already drawn the tub for you, why don't you go ahead and take a nice, hot bath to soothe your muscles? ".

Y/n hummed quietly, planting a kiss on Pete's cheek, smiling to herself wearily as she made her way to the bathroom.

As she soaked in the warm bath scattered with fragrant rose petals, feeling her tension begin to ease, Pete knocked and came in with a glass of her favourite wine, setting it down on a sitting stool beside the bathtub, making her whisper a soft

"thank you baby"

and he planted another soft kiss on her forehead and left. She could hear the sounds of Pete chopping vegetables and stirring pots in the kitchen, making her stomach rumble in anticipation.

After a while, y/n got out of the bathtub, dried herself, and changed into comfortable clothing- Pete's maroon hoodie and a pair of shorts, feeling a little better. As she emerged from the bathroom, feeling refreshed and rejuvenated, the soft glow of candles lead her to the dining table, where a playlist of their favourite songs played in the background, creating a soundtrack for their evening. She found Pete waiting for her at the dining table which was adorned with fresh flowers, and a handwritten note expressing his love awaited her, tucked beneath the dinner napkin.

She sat down with a suprised look on her face, and said

"How did you manage to do all this is in such a short time?"

with a cheesy grin and a wink he replied,

"My love for you makes me efficient in a way I can't explain."

As soon as he opened the pot's lid, y/n squealed happily, seeing that Pete had made her favorite chicken stew for dinner, a string of thank yous falling from her lips. Pete fed her the first bite of food and she groaned in satisfaction at the delicious taste, saying

"Gosh you are the best!"

making him chuckle and respond

"I know".

Savouring each bite, she did a happy little dance as she ate, her stressful day at work long forgotten. Y/n couldn't help but notice the way Pete looked at her with so much adoration and love in his eyes, making her wonder how she ever got so lucky to have found him.

"You know, babe" he said,

"I've been thinking. Why don't we take the day off tomorrow and have a relaxing day with each other, not having to worry about anything?"

Y/n's heart swelled with gratitude and she nodded eagerly.

They finished their dinner, chatting and laughing together. They then watched a few episodes of the show they were currently invested in, while Pete gently ran his fingers through y/n's hair, massaging her scalp, making her doze off. He then carried her bridal style, to their bedroom and gently put her down on the bed, under the blankets and got in himself, holding her close, falling in a deep slumber.

The next morning, Pete woke Y/n up with a cup of coffee, presenting her with a carefully planned itinerary for their day off. Their day began with a leisurely breakfast, laughter dancing in the air. He whisked her away to a spa day, their journey to the spa involving a scenic drive with the windows down, and her favourite tunes setting the mood. He had arranged for a personalized treatment, ensuring his wife felt like royalty.

During their drive to the nail and hair appointments, he engaged her in delightful conversation, peppering the day with shared laughter and stolen glances that spoke volumes. His heart so filled with love for her, cherishing every moment by her side.

They spent the rest of their day strolling down and exploring the city, hand in hand, simply enjoying each other's company while the world seemed to pause, leaving room for the warmth of their connection to fill the air. They laughed and joked just the way they did while they had just started dating, and Y/n felt all her stress and anxiety melt away.

They had lunch at a rooftop restaurant, enjoying the view of the city, walked to a park where they laid down on a blanket under a tree, watching the clouds roll by and listening to the birds sing. It was a perfect day and y/n felt grateful to have Pete by her side, grateful for the love and care he showered her with.

As the sun began to set, they drove back home and cuddled up on the couch together, with y/n's head resting on Pete's lap watching a movie and just enjoying each other's company. It was a simple, yet perfect day, and y/n knew that she was loved and cherished by her wonderful husband.

She looked up at Pete with affection in her eyes.

"I love you so much Pete. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"I love you so much more my baby, You're my everything."

He bent his head down, their lips meeting in a passionate, loving kiss. They headed to their bedroom, falling asleep in each others arms, with smiles on their faces, knowing no matter how bad things got around them, they'd always have each other.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: I really enjoyed writing this fic! I hope y'all liked reading it too. I'd really appreciate if you'd comment any thoughts, suggestions or requests that you have! Thank you ^_^

124 notes · View notes

awkwardgtace · 4 months

Text

Christmas Miracles

Here's my gift for the secret santa! @2-sleepy-for-this I hope you enjoy it. I sort of tried to match the kind of stuff I found on your blog as best I could, but I'm not suuuuper family with mcyt stuff. So it's kind of vaguely that, but not entirely (also sorry it took until now. I got a little sick right at the end of a trip I took)

Christmas Miracles

All your life you heard humans talking about ‘holidays’. You never had a chance to even try and understand what they were. Your parents kept you close by during those times. They would tell you the dangers of humans changing their habits at those times. A lot of years they made you move right as those ‘holidays’ ended. The last time they moved left you alone in a house with three new humans and no one to help you get started there. That didn’t matter though. You were grown up enough, you could take care of yourself. Even if your parents hadn’t taught you much yet.

You knew the first step was to watch them. It always sounded easy when your parents talked about it. Although you did make some mistakes at first. Going out when they were home and awake. Without your parents it was turning out to be a lot harder to figure out three whole lives.

It did help that these humans never noticed anything you did. Anything. One of the times you went exploring you found the one with brown hair in his room playing music. It made you curious and that curiosity led you to move close to him. So close that he probably should have noticed you. At one point your blood froze from his gaze on your tiny body, but when nothing happened you knew it was all in your head. A human wouldn’t just ignore you. That’s what your parents always said. Your parents would be right.

That wasn’t the only time you listened to him play music. Each time it got harder to go back to your home in the walls. Cold, lonely, and eerily quiet despite the massive beings living nearby. It made you miss your family.

Food collection was easy at least. There was one human that looked like he would hurt a borrower on sight. His pink hair braided behind him and a glare that made you shiver within the walls if you knew he was nearby. Normally you would avoid a human like him, but he had one trait that made him worth following around. This human was forgetful. You couldn’t count the times you’d wait just out of sight near a pile of food he left out. You never took much though, your family told you to be careful.

Most days when you were left with nothing to do all alone in the walls you’d follow the weirdest human. He always appeared calm, his blonde hair often under a hat. He almost reminded you of your parents… That wasn’t why you spent so much time following him around though. It was entirely because he talked to himself. A lot. Enough that you could almost pretend he was talking to you. Now and then you nearly answered a question he asked to the air. But you knew better. You always knew better.

After a whole year passed you felt more alone than ever. The humans were changing their habits and that had to mean the ‘holidays’ were coming. On the bright side you could finally learn what the word meant.

The changes in the humans’ schedules made you a bit nervous. Normally they were loud enough you could hear them as long as you were in an adjacent room, but now they’d talk so quietly you’d need to be on one of their shoulders to hear what was said. On their ‘movie nights’ (whatever movies were) they would look around the room for a while before starting it. A few times right after you felt eyes pass over you they started it without a word. Like you were a part of it.

The type of movie changed too. It kept talking about presents and miracles. Some kind of magic. You didn’t stay long. It was a boring human thing you didn’t care about. It definitely wasn’t because a lot of the movies talked about family… You definitely weren’t lonely.

The blonde one had a ‘project’ he started talking about. Nothing specific and usually just that he was making progress. The brown haired one started playing music in more rooms in the house. You liked that change, it was nice not having to check his room so often. The pink haired one started to forget food in weird places. Weird food too. Usually something the others called ‘cookies’. You waited as long as you could those times. It smelled too good to believe the human wouldn’t come back and notice you’d taken some.

After all of that the blonde one started telling stories. They all talked about something called Christmas and some guy named Santa. The stories had some weird lines too. “Santa brings presents to everyone big or small, out in the open or hidden.” You never saw Santa with your parents. Whoever he was only cared about humans.

You decided to happily ignore it. You were happy to ignore everything about Christmas. How they laughed and spent time together. The smiles as they changed the things in the rooms of the house. You weren’t ignoring it because you wanted to be a part of it. It wasn’t because you started to miss laughing with your own family. You weren’t starting to feel a sharp pain in your chest, or have nights where it was hard not to cry. You weren’t lonely… You were all grown up, a big man. You were the best borrower ever and you didn’t need a family. You didn’t want to be part of what the humans did either… even when they talked about how fun it all was.

The day the humans brought in a tree you almost cheered. That meant the ‘holidays’ were nearly done. No more movies about family, or songs about togetherness. It would go back to normal…

After they put a bunch of weird shiny stuff and lights on the tree, the pink haired one brought out something you were pretty sure was called a laptop. The brown haired one took it and managed to block the screen from your view. It was weird how they seemed to know just the right angle to sit at to do that.

“Did you boys set it up?” asked the blonde one as he walked into the room. He set a plate of cookies on the table near the brown haired one.

“Yeah, I added what I wanted too,” the brunette answered.

The pink haired one grunted, taking the computer and doing something to it. When he finished he set it on a table. Almost directly in your view. It was too far for you to make out anything on the screen though. The blonde one moved closer to it before standing up with a big grin.

“A guitar and a cape are interesting choices,” the blonde laughed. “Remember if you don’t tell someone what you want Santa can’t bring you a present for Christmas tonight. I’m shocked you didn’t pick something a bit crazier. Santa can grant wishes too.”

“We know, we know,” the pink haired one sighed before leaving the room. The words you heard had you vibrating.

You waited for the others to walk off. It felt like hours, but in reality it took just a few minutes. You ran down to the floor and made your way to the table with the laptop. It took a minute for you to reach the top and meet the screen face to face. Santa could grant wishes. It had to be told to someone, but he could grant wishes. If… if you told Santa you didn’t want to be alone anymore he could help. You were fine alone, but you still…

You bit your lip. This would be a risk. A huge risk. But you knew how to read and write. You could add to this list and maybe Santa really would bring something to someone as small as you. Slowly you made your way onto the keyboard of the laptop. You were so light you weren’t sure it would react how you needed.

Standing on the letter ‘i’ you stared at the screen. At the risk you were taking. You could delete it before the others woke up tomorrow. No human would know. You were the best, better than any other borrower ever. These humans had no idea you even existed. It might not even work. After a deep breath you jumped up into the air, when you landed the ‘i’ was on the screen. As far as you were concerned there was no backing out anymore.

It took a while, but you managed to spell out your wish. It wasn’t perfect, it didn’t look like the words your parents used to teach you, but it was there. You understood it and if this Santa guy could grant wishes he could probably figure out what you meant. You walked off the keyboard and sat down. Your plan was to catch your breath for just a few seconds, but writing your wish was more of a work out than you realized. A few blinks that lasted just a bit too long turned into full blown sleep. A sleep that left you right out in the open with your wish clear as day above you.

I want a famalee.

You woke up from a booming step that sent you into the air. At first you thought it was nothing and tried to go back to sleep, but then another came. And another that woke you up enough to remember where you were. You stood, prepared to run, only to freeze as a shadow stopped above you. A shadow of a human.

“Ho-ho-ho what’s this?” the human spoke. His voice was as deep as the pink haired human’s, but there was more emotion in it. It couldn’t be one of the three that lived in the house. That made the situation worse. You didn’t know what to do. There was nowhere to run, no safe way down. You were left with a human staring down at you. You almost fainted as he leaned closer. “I see now, did you add your wish for me?”

Stiffly, you nodded. The best guess you could make about the identity of this human was the magical Santa the blonde kept talking about. He was supposed to be kind. Maybe he’d be like the stories if you played along. At some point you’d have a chance to escape.

“Well I suppose I should see what you’ve asked for.” The towering human leaned forward. A fluffy white beard hovered just barely touching you. It was kind of soft, softer than any beard you touched before. More like the white stuff your parents would pull from human toys. You heard the faintest chuckle from the chest above you, it made you squirm. “So, you want a family?”

Another nod from you. He understood, maybe it was ok to hope. Santa worked miracles, had magic, and was kind. At least if the human stories were real. Maybe he’d give you a family even if he can’t bring back your parents… He hummed to himself as he looked around the house. Fear gripped your heart, what if he wasn’t kind? What if he wasn’t Santa? What if he just took you from here? Or just dropped you with random humans? Or-or-or-

“Well that makes my job a lot easier. Ho-ho-ho.” You tilted your head. He moved back to stare down at you. “The others here have talked about how they wanted another member to join their family for Christmas. How would you like to have the three people here as family?”

Your mouth fell open. Live in the open with them… That wouldn’t be too bad. Right? You already spent a lot of time around them. Sometimes you felt like you’d be safe if you went near them. It would be a lot better than hiding in the walls alone too. Your body moved while your mind kept piecing together the possibility. A vigorous nod up at this human… up at Santa.

“Then the other gift I brought won’t go to waste. Ho-ho-ho,” he laughed again.

Santa moved something off his shoulder, it landed on the ground with a loud thud. You hadn’t even noticed he was holding something until now. His hands had been full this whole time, you could have run. You were a bit glad you were too tired (definitely not too scared) to notice. He did something just out of your view. He looked up at a you, glint in his eye that made you almost excited. Then, with a grunt, Santa lifted up a house that looked sized to you and put it next to the laptop. It knocked you off your feet, but large fingers covered in black gloves surrounded you. They stopped you from hitting the hard table. They were a lot warmer than the fabric you would have been curled up with in the wall.

“I had a feeling you’d agree. Ho-ho-ho. Here’s a room out in the open. When you all wake up on Christmas morning Santa’s magic will have worked and they’ll know you’re here as family.”

Santa moved to leave. He was a terrifying and intimidating human. One that spoke to you like an equal… He even granted your wish. Before he disappeared from the room you yelled, “Thank you Santa!”

He turned to look back at you, a grin on his face. “Ho-ho-ho, merry Christmas little one!”

You settled back on the table, reluctant to enter the house. You didn’t want the humans moving it with you inside until you actually spoke to them.. Tomorrow you would learn their names, tell them your own, and maybe even try watching one of those movie things for Christmas all the way through.

Even better, you’d have a family again. You wouldn’t be all alone in the walls. Dealing with the loud thunder storms that scared you, struggling to keep food stored properly, or afraid you’d disappear like your parents did. You were looking forward to finding out what it would be like to have a human family. Brothers and a dad sounded pretty nice.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Unknown to you two of the humans watched as ‘Santa’ approached them. They stared at him with baited breath, relieved when he offered a thumbs up before removing a wig to reveal his pink hair.

“I didn’t know how much longer I could go on ignoring him,” the blonde said. “Kid didn’t look healthy from the glimpses I got. It never looked like he took any of the healthier food we left out.”

“I guess this means we have a ‘little’ little brother now,” the pink haired one chuckled a bit. “I caught him when your ‘project’ made him fall over. We’re gonna have to be careful with him.”

The brown haired one groaned, but a smile was painted on his face. “Guess I’ll be putting that new guitar to use tomorrow. Might as well teach him some Christmas carols tomorrow.”

#gt #giant/tiny #g/t #giant tiny #g/t writing #gt writing #gianttiny #gt community #g/t community #gt secret santa #g/t secret santa #gt secret santa 2023 #g/t secret santa 2023

40 notes · View notes

ananxiousgenz · 1 month

Text

TPP HADESTOWN AU PART 4

ANOTHA ONE. i am so sorry guys, but the muse has possessed me and i literally cannot stop writing. this is no longer a flash fic. i am now a slave to the au. this time will be a direct continuation of part 3 because honestly i wanted to keep writing that but i also just wanted to post it so consider this a kind of part 2 to part 3 if that makes sense

tpp mutuals come get your juice!!! @smidgen-of-hotboy @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @urjover @one-joe-spoopy @waters-and-the-wilde

when he said his name, juno heard it.

ringing in the background like the hum of a crystal wine glass.

the song.

when peter nureyev said his name, the song echoed with it.

"your name has the same melody," juno breathed, eye wide and searching for some kind of answers on the face of this strange, beautiful man. how could his name have the song of spring laced through it?

nureyev shot him a sideways look and took a sip of his drink. "so. what do you do for a living, lady who's going to marry me?" he questioned, leaning back in his chair and looking juno over with a gaze he could only describe as skeptical.

"oh! well, I work here at the bar with rita. she's over there. but you've met her already so I don't know why I'm introducing her."

rita gave a friendly wave from her perch behind the bar.

"I also, um. I, uh. I sing. sometimes. not all the time. i'm not bad at it. typically when I do sing, someone will give me a couple bucks. it's nice. oh, and uh, I can play guitar too, but I haven't done it in years, and to be honest, I don't really want to-"

nureyev cut juno off, looking away disinterestedly and downing the rest of his drink. "that's nice. so you're like all the other bar workers in existence. that doesn't exactly sound like something I'd want to marry."

suddenly, the butterflies that had been gradually building in juno's stomach began to unexpectedly drop dead.

"heyyyyyyy, that's not very nice, mista nureyev. mista steel isn't like all the otha ladies you eva met! he's a very supa awesome lady who I love workin' with and-oh oh oh! mista steel! you GOTTA tell him about that song you're workin' on! it's so pretty! and important! I'm sure mista nureyev would LOVE to hear about that!" rita cried, bounding off the bar and hustling over to deliver another drink to the table.

"oh, uh, yeah! I'm working on this song to bring spring back again," juno said, feeling mildly embarrassed that rita brought it up with this man who was still basically a total stranger. "it's not done, honestly, it needs a lot of work. but, when i'm finished with it, it will hopefully fix.....everything."

"wait just a moment." nureyev's brow furrowed and juno's stomach twisted at the sight. even when he was skeptical and defensive and bone-tired, he was still so damn attractive. gods, what juno wouldn't give to just kiss him right now- focus, steel, he's trying to talk to you-

"so you say this song will bring spring back again?"

"yup! at least it should."

"that's...." nureyev placed a finger over his lips in thought. "I haven't seen a proper spring in at least a decade, maybe more. the world has been so wrong in recent years... I shudder to think where it would all end up without the return of warmer weather."

"well, that's the idea with the song. I want to fix it. all of it. when the song is done it should put the world back on track. more sunshine, springs, falls, rain and flowers. you know. all the stuff that's just sort of been missing. maybe you could help me out with it!" juno grinned a bit sheepishly.

"and why would I want to help?" his eyes were cold, almost as cold as the biting wind and frost outside, but juno thought he saw the beginning of a thaw at the edges of his facade.

"because, mista nureyev. he's real good at makin' people feel like life is worth livin' again with that music of his. also, he makes the BEST chocolate cake i've eva had! and frannie agrees with me!" rita chimed in, cleaning the bar top as best she could with her short stature.

juno snorted involuntarily, marveling at rita's ability to constantly be focused on food. "it's true, I won a local competition a few years back for that cake."

nureyev's face had half a smile on it now, and the butterflies in juno's stomach turned into a hurricane.

"so you can make people feel alive again? that's quite a gift, juno. but what else can you offer me?"

"huh?"

"say, for example, if we were to get married. who would pay for the wedding rings? times have been hard, and gold is scarce. how would you do it?"

juno thought for a moment. "the rivers. they've got plenty of gold in them, and if my song works, they'll give it all to us for wedding rings."

nureyev's eyes glinted with something juno suspected was either curiosity or suspicion.

"what about a wedding feast? or a bed? good food and better beds are hard to come by these days. what would you do about that, juno?"

"the trees would take care of the wedding feast, and the birds would take care of the bed."

"with your song." nureyev cocked an eyebrow as though it was a question.

"well, yeah, of course."

"you talk a lot about that song. why don't you sing it for me?"

a wave of panic stuttered through juno's mind. "I can't. I told you it's not finished."

"you said you wanted to take me home and marry me, is that true?

a sly smile crossed nureyev's face, and goddammit it only made juno want him even more. "yes," he breathed.

"then sing the song for me, juno."

juno hesitated, then nodded in spite of himself. he shouldn't be doing this, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't help it.

he was in love.

and lovers need the spring like a flower needs sunshine. so he'd sing the sunshine back for peter nureyev.

he stepped back, breathed in, and let the notes flow from him like water from a faucet. the song flooded the room, hitting the walls and rushing back to his ears in perfect harmonies, and for a moment, he was back in that wheat field with benten, strumming guitar as he danced like a pheonix rising from the ashes, spinning around and around and around like he was the center of the universe.

and then the song ended. and juno was back in a shitty roadside bar, holding a perfect dahlia in his left hand, with peter nureyev staring at him now, eyes wide and sparkling.

"that's...... you...... how did you do that?" nureyev asked quietly, standing from the table on unsteady legs and taking the dahlia to examine it with shaking hands.

"i didn't do that, the song did," juno muttered as nureyev gently touched the immaculate petals of the dahlia, still damp with dew. rita beamed at juno from the bar and gave an overenthusiastic thumbs-up. juno just rolled his eyes again.

peter nureyev looked at him then, all of the previous frostiness gone from his eyes and something like amazement and love and hope spilling through them.

juno decided that he liked it when he looked like that. it made him feel like he really could fix the whole damn world with that song of his.

nureyev seemed to come to some sort of conclusion and slipped the dahlia into the buttonhole of his traveling coat. "so, what time does your shift end, my dear juno?"

juno thought for a minute. "uhhhh, the bar closes around 10. why?"

his eyes gleamed like a pair of stars as a smile twinkled on his lips. "didn't you say you were going to marry me?"

#THERE WE GO #IT'S DONE #HURRAH #i look forward to seeing all of you screaming at me in the tags #if anyone has any notes for me feel free to drop them in the comments #as always #i love y'all <3 #the penumbra podcast #tpp #hadestown #tpp hadestown au

23 notes · View notes

lavender-rosa · 1 year

Text

Kny Characters + What stories would they write?

Ok last one for now I just had a lot of ideas

(Also kind of a modern au)

This is also really long, it contains the majority of the characters

Tanjirou: Pens a very lovely and whimsical tale about a boy who goes exploring in a sunny wood and comes across various talking animals who often say funny, charming and sometimes deeply profound things about the nature of the world. Think Le Petít Prince meets Winnie the Pooh. Half of the people who read the story thought that it was a delightful read while the other half thought it needed more conflict (lameasses)

Nezuko: When she was a human she was too busy taking care of her younger siblings and doing laundry to write down her little tween girl self-insert fantasies of joining Robin Hood's band of merry men and becoming the new leader who steals Robin Hood's heart <3 and other similar characters who fight sexily against injustice.

Zenitsu: Writes cringy self-insert fanfic both in modern au and in the taishou era. He writes selfcest fanfic (but don't you get it? It's actually a metaphor about the duality of the self, and he's working out his inner demons UGH don't make fun of him!!!!!) and is that guy who writes really dark, fucked up fanfic about cartoons (he has watched a lot of anime). He's really into theaters, plays, operas, musicals you name it. He went through a big Tennessee Williams phase and tried to write exactly like him to.....middling success. He tried to write a musical once only to realize one song in, that an advanced sense of hearing and proficiency in multiple musical instruments doesn't actually equate to having any compositional talent. He'll stick to critiquing and leave the creative writing to people with more style and imagination.

Inosuke: He narrates a story about a boy who escapes an opressive society and goes to start an anarchist commune in the woods with other refugees. The fact that there are no rules and everyone does what they want is epic and he doesn't miss his old life at all even a little bit and then they all live happily ever after, the end. Shinobu claims that while his narration style is direct and incisive, the story ultimately lacks nuance.

Genya: He had a really big crush on Mulan and Li Shang when he was a kid and when he saw the garbage straight to DVD sequel it dissapointed him so badly he vowed to rewrite it so that it was good now, actually. He got three pages in before it occured to him that this was a waste of his time because no one but him would ever actually read it, and he abandoned it. Little did he know that little Nezuko would have loved to read it, but he didn't know Nezuko yet. Alas.

Kanao: She writes a series of diary entries from the perspective of a teenage girl. At first she's just talking about stereotypical teenage girl stuff, like the boy she likes and the mean thing her friend said at the mall, but then at some point the narrator realises that she's in a story, and her diary entries get introspective and frantic and meta as she is ultimately crushed under the weight of her own narrative. Her teacher deems it "brilliant" and suggests submitting it to literary magazines for publication to which Kanao replies "no thanks Λ_Λ 🫧"

Aoi: She once wrote a story inspired by "Over the Garden Wall" about two characters who are clearly her and Kanao navigating a sinister, mysterious forest together. It really helped her work through some stuff.

Senjurou: He makes an artbook of his crafts, paintings and photography. It has a very special place on Rengoku's shelf.

Rest of characters under read more

Shinobu: She writes a story about a lesbian pirate who has an affair with a bisexual tavernkeeper who is cheating on her shitty husband right under his nose. One day the husband finds out and gets violent so they kill him and serve chunks of his flesh to stray alley cats. Her friends and family really enjoy the story but others don't understand "why everything Shinobu writes needs to have such an agenda"

Sanemi: He pens a tragic fairytale about an empress who loses all of her children to various causes and ultimately kills herself. The style is very poetic and beautiful but the story is so unbelievably sad that anyone who reads it is prompted to ask "what was the point of this" and "if you need help i have a pretty good therapist i can recommend"

Giyuu: He once wrote a novella about a miserable, traumatised young man who causes problems for himself for no reason. Shinobu reads it and says "Wow Giyuu, this is an amazing piece of satire I never knew you had such a great sense of humour!" And Giyuu is just like "it wasn't meant to be comedic" and Shinobu's like "Oh......." Many years down the line Sanemi reads it too and argues that the protagonist needs to be punished more by the narrative and Giyuu responds "thanks...I'll keep that in mind....."

Gyomei: While not a man of many words, the novel he has been dictating reveals a very beautiful, sensitive, poetic soul and may move you to tears.

Muichirou: Doesn't read books and now you want him to write one???

Uzui: He wrote touching and hilarious letters to his wives whenever they were apart, which they keep stored in a small wooden chest and pull out to read whenever they are feeling wistful. Besides that he has no desire to write anything. The most he ever writes is when he is writing letters to other Pillars, which always say the same thing "Hey come over here so I can talk to you in person. Fuck you. Tengen"

Mitsuri: In the Kimetsu Gakuen comic series she along with Shinobu brainstormed a manga called "Sishinta and Friends" where all the characters are pieces of sushi and the romantic rival is a piece of shrimp called Ebi that looks like Rengoku and gets into conflict with a fried piece of salmon called Yakishake that looks like Akaza, who wants Ebi to get fried because if he doesn't he will spoil and die, but Ebi argues that getting spoiled quickly defines sushi and that he would never become fried and thus the two engage in a vicious crustacean vs aquatic vertebrate battle. Not kidding, it's chapter 11

Iguro: He writes a story from the perspective of an electron that doesn't know that it's entangled but can sometimes still feel that it is connected to something across the universe when it spins. It is a brilliant poignant story about starcrossed love and the significance of relationality across the cosmos that almost none of his peers understand "because it all sounds too sciencey"

Rengoku: Had a diary detailing his childhood, his mother and her passing, his father's descent into alcoholism, his little brother, his training exercises, his missions and his unsuccessful attempts at making his father proud. As the years passed the diary entries became shorter and shorter until one day they completely stopped...

Kagaya: Writes a dark comedy about a horrible, pathetic man who makes everyone around him miserable including himself because he refuses to adjust his insane principles even when presented with tangible evidence that contradicts his beliefs, at one point he commits multiple murders and gets away with them until the end of the story where he is killed by his own myopic greed. Muzan claims that the hero of the story "is greatly sympathetic" and that "he deserved a better fate" Kagaya is just like "yeah...I kinda knew you would say that... :)"

Tamayo: She pens a lot of theory that is highly abstract, very dense, overly cerebral, sprawling and bordeline illegible. Her works are sort of like if Feynman and Derrida had a baby and also that baby was in highly need of an editor that could whittle down every four pages into one sentence. She writes theory on every scientific field imaginable, including fields she all but invented. People who can actually figure out what the hell she is saying insist that she is a genius and that her ideas changed their life, but most people don't even bother or just pretend to have read her stuff.

Yushiro: He writes academic criticism/theory/research, which is ever so slightly more lucid and succinct than Tamayo's.

Kyogai: Writes a story about ghosts throughout time occupying a single house together, haunting each other, ever temporarily overlapping in a cacophony of grief. While coherent it is very dense, and most of his publishers don't bother actually unpacking it, so they mostly just complain about the non-linear timeline being "too confusing" (lameasses)Tanjirou loves it though.

Rui: When he was still a human he had diary entries, which served as a treasured outlet through to vent his supressed and overwhelming feelings regarding his illness. He didn't write every day, and sometimes his entries were longer than others. In the weeks between him meeting Muzan and him murdering his parents, Rui's diary entries took a turn for the messy, rambling, dramatic and graphic. His diaries were well-hid under a rug in his room and thus never found.

Muzan: He writes about an ubermensch who is able to valiantly resist the liberal indoctrination of the pathetic sjws who are triggered by his inner strength and sharp intelligence. It reads almost identically to Kagaya's story (except with a vastly different prose style), but unlike Kagaya, it is completely sincere and not remotely a satire. Unfortunate.

Kaigaku: Writes a story about a "really cool" alpha male whose girlfriend unfairly dumps him after their wannabe sigma male acquaintance who was jealous of him because he loved his girlfriend gets him cancelled on Twitter for saying a slur 10 years ago. But it turns out said guy who steals his girlfriend is actually a terrible person who treats women like shit despite posturing as a feminist for clout. Zenitsu reads it and is like "wow, this could actually be a very well thought out critique on performative allyship and how any kind of man can be equally abusive to the women in their lives....if not for the fact that THE SIGMA MALE IN THIS STORY IS CLEARLY A STAND IN FOR ME ???????"

Daki: She def has a "went through a phase of writing hardcore slash fic" vibes, I can't explain it but she does. She's also incredible at writing roasts. She gives a speech at every birthday party she has been invited to and it fucking kills.

Gyutaro: The first and only time he ever attempted constructing his own story was when he was very young, where he devised a truly gruesome story about woodland creatures that accidentally made Ume cry. Whoops!

Gyokko: He wrote the japanese equivalent of Donatien Alphonse Francois Marquis de Sade's "120 Days of Sodom" the book that inspired the well-known 1975 film Saló (on a sidenote: I have read the book and it's much worse than the movie, just read the wiki summary to get the idea) Anyways if you are familiar with the book or the film you should know that whatever the hell Gyokko wrote is not suitable for human or demon consumption alike.

Hantengu: Spent a couple decades or so publishing a series of action-adventure-erotica novels under a pseydonym. Once you've been around for long enough, you just start doing shit.

Akaza: When he was young he wrote about a brave and valiant samurai who goes off to slay an oni and bring it's head back as a trophy for the shogun, only to learn that the oni was really just minding her own business, leading him to question everything he thought he knew about the Japanese feudal government, and ultimately beheading the shogun instead. His teacher deemed it "intriguing, but slightly concerning" (Lame!!!) Also probably had a Magneto and a Robin Hood phase.

Douma: Publishes a book that is one part self-help, one part gloating memoir, one part spiritual guide, one part personality quiz and 100% barf. Hakuji cannot believe that Koyuki has read it cover to cover multiple times, as if it contains wisdom deserving to be gleaned even once. He'd burn it if he didn't know that Koyuki would just immediately go out and buy another copy, giving even more money to that bastardly scammer.

Kokushibou: He finds most novels insipid, poetry either boring at best or nauseating at worst, and fanfiction a hobby practiced only by the most simple minded buffoons so he doesn't think he's missing out. He once sent a letter to Douma but never received an answer from him, so when he asked him about it when they met face-to-face Douma simply told him that attempting to read through and trying to comprehend Kokushibou's highly antiquated and dense writing was sheer torture for him so he just gave up ❤ he advised him to modernize his writing, even just a tiny bit. Kokushibou could do that....but he refuses to ❤️

191 notes · View notes

fadingdaggerr · 1 year

Text

rose infusion - l.w.

pairing: (college) larissa weems x gn/fem!reader (reads more fem but no gendered terms/pronouns for r)

summary: larissa smoking weed for the first time with a “good friend” (and r practically foaming at the mouth over her the whole time)

warnings: marijuana use, smoking, shotgunning smoke for the plot, rolling tutorial, discussion of drug use, making out, references to drinking, friends to lovers <3

note: this was fun to write considering smoking is one of my very few talents /lh. i also based a lot of the background on stuff that’s i’ve done or seen when i lived on campus lol

after probably breaking several traffic laws, i finally got to my destination. amir’s house was up the street a little ways, but i desperately had to change my clothes. putting my car in park, i fling my upper half into the backseat in search of the spare clothes i left there to change into. after a delightful struggle to remove my work uniform of khakis and a black button up, i finally got my jeans and long sleeve on. the black converse sneakers could stay, they were only part of the uniform that i had any say in.

opening the glove compartment to my right, i fish around until my hand knocks against a heavy piece of metal and a sandwich bag. grinder, check. weed, check. i look in my middle console, blindly moving the napkins and random plastic utensils until i find my prize, slowly raising it out like a claw machine. baby blue lighter, check. papers were the only thing missing.

i drive up the road, praying they remembered, then clapping to myself when they did, i see the spot in the driveway they left open for me. once in park again, i grabbed the grey, oversized zip up from my backseat, wrapping it tightly around me as i began to make my way to the house. finally making it to the door, i open to a sea of people. dancing, talking, yelling, oddly dangerous making out on top of the oven, beer cans littering the floor, and loud music blasting through the speakers. this was definitely an ‘amir and co. party,’ as it had been coined by himself, and himself only.

i find him by the makeshift pong table, a bookcase that has been brought face down, balancing on milk crates placed at each corner. incredibly stupid, but inventive, so i let this one slide.

“oi, you got papers?” i say loudly as i stand to his left, trying to be heard over the music.

he yelps, “you scared the shit out of me, you god damn ghoul,” he sinks a ball into a cup, followed by a happy fist bump to his partner, tomas.

“nice one. now, papers?”

“nah. go check out back i’m sure one of them has a pack of ‘em. if you can’t find any, sneak to my room and use one of my glass pieces. i don’t need you cranky at my party,” he smiles to me, before groaning at mikal when he lands a ball in a cup.

“you’re the best,” i say, turning and walking towards the back porch. i had opened at work, and been asked to stay later, and i wanted, no needed, was to sit and smoke in peace.

i get outside, and find my usual smoking buddies. i greeted them, gladly accepting a hit off of one of their pipes. after asking, more like begging” for only one or two papers, i was gifted five little sheets, and a couple spare filters dominic had prepared before the party.

“if i wasn’t gay, i’d so kiss you for this,” i joke.

“if we’re both gay, does it cancel out?” he jokes back, and we talk back and forth for a bit. i move to sit down to finally roll for myself, my very own joint. all i had been thinking about since leaving work.

i put some weed in the grinder, turning and turning the cover. grabbing one of the papers, i gently fold it in half to create a crease for the bud to sit. just as i reach for the grinder, the seat next to me dips down. i almost made a comment telling them to get lost, thinking it was amir coming to fiend off of me. every cell in my body thanked me for looking before i spoke.

when i looked to see who sat next to me, i’m greeted by the greatest sight for sore eyes the gods have ever created. larissa weems. ever since freshman year move in day when i first spoke to her in the hallway, she’s been the only thing on my mind. we had somehow been in the same english class every semester for the last three years, and i always had admired her from afar. she was always top of the class, peer reviews showed her masterful writing, and sitting close to her let me see her kindness up close.

we had become friends. most of first year we were just ‘school friends’ mostly, only sharing the one class each semester and sitting close to each other. second year the ongoing classes together became funny coincidences, now sitting directly next to her and coming in early to talk with her in the longue. this year, third year, andrea started crushing on tomas, so they both were becoming frequent guests of amir’s house, and larissa and i would just sit and talk the whole time.

i took her in, still not used to her outside of a school setting, or with her hair down for that matter. she had her long legs covered by light blue jeans, a fitted, white university t-shirt, and a golden necklace with a sun pendant. she finally looked back at me, realizing she had sat with someone.

“oh, hey,” she said shyly, eyes only looking in mine for a second, like she was checking to see if i was bothered by her presence. i was most definitely not.

“hey, larissa. i didn’t know you’d be here tonight, how are you?” i pray to every god that could hear me that i sounded normal.

“i’m good, i guess. and i’m here because andrea dragged me here. tomas asked her to come by and she ‘had to say yes’ because finds him ‘yummy in eight languages.’ her words, not mine,” she shakes her head at the thought. i fake gag muttering ‘straight people’ with a shiver, making her bark out a laugh.

“i definitely wouldn’t word it that way, not even if i was held at gun point, but tomas is a sweetheart. andrea’s in good hands, a little stupid, but good,” she laughs at this, tomas wasn’t known for being the brightest student, but he was the kindest kid out there.

“anyways…” wanting to get away from the topic of andrea and her conquests, i change the subject. “you decided to join us here in the smoking lounge. can’t say i’m not surprised, you never mentioned that you smoked,” i say lightheartedly.

“i don’t. well, i guess it’s more that i haven’t. this is the first year i haven’t lived in a dorm since before high school. never really got the chance,” she looks almost embarrassed by her confession.

“that’s totally fine. did you… did you want to? you can smoke with me, if you want. if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. i don’t want you to feel pressured into doing anything,” i make eye contact with her to try and prove my honesty, wanting her to know she’s not going to be judged.

“i want to… i just have a dumb question first,” she says in a small voice.

“no such thing as a dumb question, i’ll tell you anything you want to know,” i give her a assuring smile.

“is there a way… to make it, i don’t know. is there a way to make it not taste as gross as it smells?” she asks unsurely.

i think for a second. when we were in high school amir and i would take mint and lavender from his mom’s garden to lessen the smell. this wasn’t an option now, seeing as amir’s apartment was closer to growing blue cheese than mint, but mr. cho next door had a rose bush. i close up my grinder, and put the papers and baggie of weed under it, using it’s weight to secure them there. i stand up, offering my hand to larissa. she slowly reaches out, placing her warm hand in mine. her hand is so soft, and the weight of it in mine grounds me.

i pull her in the direction of the fence that lines the yard, stopping when i reach the hole that brings you to the other yard. i drop her hand, and get lower to slide through the opening, but before i can, she grabs my elbow.

“what in fresh hell do you think you’re doing?” she whisper yells at me, not letting go of my arm.

“getting something to help with the taste, you asked if there was a way. i’m getting the way,” i say, trying and failing to loosen her grip by shaking my arm.

“that is someone’s yard, you’re gonna be trespassing,” she said, making it clear that she was not coming with me.

“you’re worth it,” i say, and she goes to say something but i cut her off, “plus, i’m barely going into the yard, just to the side of the house to grab one little, tiny thing. he’s asleep i’m sure, he’s like a thousand years old and he only has a cat,” and with that, i drop down, finally losing her grip. i carefully go through the fence, trying not to get dirt on my clothes.

i look back, seeing larissa staring back at me. i wave to her, she lets out an breathy laugh before waving back. i run low and quick across the yard, coming up next to a rose bush. i stick my hand just a little, a few thorns digging into the top of my hand and wrist, but i pluck the head off of one rose. looking around, i make sure i’m in the clear, before grabbing swiss army knife from the pocket of my sweatshirt, detaching a perfect rose from the rest of the bush, closing and sliding the knife back in my pocket. i turn and head back to the fence, sliding under it. i pop back up into standing position, the head of the rose in my palm, the full one hidden by my sleeves.

“tada!” i say with a smile, “this should help a bit with the taste, and the smell.”

“you trespassed, on a man old man’s property, for a rose bud.”

“yes, now let’s go,” and with that, i begin making my way back to the porch. larissa follows after a second, walking by my side. she walks around the table, i follow her with my eyes as she moves to sit back down, a little shiver going up her spine as she does.

i grab and open the grinder, tearing up little pieces of the rose and adding it to the already grinded weed. ideally this would be dried rose, also ideally not from mr. cho’s yard, but the fact that i would be smoking with larissa made both of those facts mean nothing to me.

“i’m guessing you don’t know how to roll,” i state, looking larissa as she nervously plays with her hands, she shakes her head, confirming my assumptions. “that’s okay, i’ll show you. come here,” i motion her to come closer, and she immediately does, making me blush just as fast.

“you do it, i’ll talk you through. sound good?” i ask her, she nods, “okay, gently hold the paper in half the long way,” she does. “good, now reopen it, and put a filter in at the end,” i pass her a filter, my skin tingling at the short brush of our fingers. she lays the filter against the end closest to her left hand, “now, we just add the weed and rose, then the hard part.”

she looks at me desperately at the mention of ‘the hard part,’ i place my hand on her knee and caress the skin with my thumb, “nothing you can’t handle.” i don’t miss the blush that creeps up her neck, but i hope she missed mine.

i watch as she sprinkles the weed and rose mixture into the paper. long fingers grabbing small bundles of the plants, distributing it evenly. her rings make little noises as her hands move, and i can’t help but watch. she looks at me for confirmation each time before adding more, i only stop her by putting the cover back on the grinder.

“alright, now we roll it, get it all packed and into the right shape. it doesn’t have to be perfect, most of the time they look quite sad,” she giggles at the last bit, and my heart flutters, my smile growing.

i adjust her hands, showing her the motion to make, but when she gets frustrated and mutters something about “should be smart enough to figure it out,” i stop. i grab her hands, moving them manually, showing her the motion myself. she initially freezes, and my hands drop from hers with an apology ready on my lips, but she pulls them back with a ‘it’s okay, i’m just jumpy.’

my eyes go back to her hands, my own coming to help her again. she takes a deep breath, before focusing on the motion harder than before. after i see that she had gotten used to it, i moved away, watching the small smile on her face grow from pride.

“now, we seal it up. tuck, roll, lick, twist, done,” i say quickly, she chuckles warmly. “okay, for real this time. wrap this around the weed, start by the filter,” i start the tuck for her to show her, she quickly understands what to do next, beginning to finish rolling it up. she looks at me for the next direction.

“you have to lick it,” i say, barely being able to look her in the eyes, “ya know, to seal it.”

“is that really necessary?”

“what did you want a little water dish to dip your fingers in? that’s marijuana not a spring roll there, babe,” her eyes widen at the pet name, mine do too. i was not expecting myself to call her that either.

she looks at me before asking, “can you do it? i don’t want to mess it up.”

“you wouldn’t,” i say quickly, not liking how she talked down on herself twice now, “but i can do it, if you want,” she quickly passes her little creation to me, “this looks much better than the first joint i ever rolled, you should be very impressed.”

“i’ve had a pretty great teacher,” she says with a smile, but i’m frozen because her hands hadn’t left mine yet, both our hands cradling the almost finished joint.

with all my strength, i move my hands away from hers. i make eye contact with larissa, raise the joint to my mouth, poke my tongue out, and drag it alone the paper. her eyes are not subtle as they watch my tongue with intent, instead of my eyes. sealing it, i grab a twig off the ground to pack it down, then twist the end. i hold the joint by the filter and hold it up.

“our marijuana and rose mixture, m’lady,” i say with a smile that she matches instantly. i hold it out to her, offering the first hit, but she shakes her head.

“you first, it’s your stuff and you were patient enough to help me. plus you trespassed on someone’s lawn, lots of hard work,” she quips, making me laugh. i was not going to live down the rose bush, was i?

placing the joint between my lips, i look around for my lighter. it had just been on the table, i was sure of it. my head whips around a couple times before i hear a little click, click click.

larissa hold up the lighter, flame glowing. the orange hue lights up her face, her pale skin warmed by the fire. she was so close to me, faces only about a foot apart, knees touching as we faced each other on the couch. the shadows of her face and hands accentuated, her lipgloss shining, eyes reflecting the light. i knew in that moment that nothing more beautiful had ever existed.

she brought the flame to the twisted end of the joint, lighting it gently. no words between us, eyes on each other. i inhale for a few seconds, hoping to get it started as well as calm myself, before my hand rises to my lips to allow myself to exhale. i hold it out for her to grab, but she doesn’t move.

i lower my hand, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, i’ll put it out if you want.”

“it’s not that, i just don’t want to make a fool of myself. you know, like cough my lungs out in front of you,” she looks at her lap the whole time, twisting her rings around her beautiful fingers. goosebumps grow on her arms as the wind picks up, the sun now past the horizon.

i sit up as i start talking, “you will not make a fool out of yourself,” i slip off my zip up, “everyone coughs when they smoke, if they make you feel bad about they’re idiots,” i hold out the sweatshirt for her, “and i most definitely will never think anything bad of you.”

she accepts the sweatshirt with a hesitant grasp, but once she puts her arm through one sleeve, she’s rushing to pull it fully on. she wraps it around her, i’m giddy at her in my clothing, but i try to remain calm.

“i mean, there is a way that might make you cough less. but it’s a little different and i’d be in your personal space,” i say, not wanting to pressure her or scare her away.

“what is it?” her eyes perk up, looking into mine.

“it’s called shotgunning. basically i’d take the hit, then exhale it into your mouth while you inhale, like passing it along. you can say no, i know it’s weird.”

“i wouldn’t mind you in my personal space,” she whispers, “i’ll try.”

i look at her quickly, making sure she’s serious, and she definitely was. i mumbled ‘okay’ before bringing myself closer to her. i stand on my knees, straddling one of her thighs. one hand on her shoulder, the other holding the joint. i slowly get closer, but she seems to be more impatient. her hands move to my waist, pulling me closer quickly. now fully straddling her, i decide to stay standing on me knees, my hand now around the back of her neck.

i bring her face closer to mine, she tilts her head back just in the slightest while her hands slide down to hold my thighs. i lean over her, moving my hand up to cup her face, stroking her jaw. i look into her eyes, asking permission once again, and she nods.

smoke fills my lungs and mouth, the joint resting between my lips, pulled away a couple seconds later. the smell of weed and a hint of rose surrounds us, but it’s nothing compared to her perfume. i raise my eyebrows while looking at her, letting her know to start inhaling.

i exhale slowly, my lips puckered so no smoke is wasted. smoke smoothly starts to flow my from mouth to hers, her hands grip was steady the entire time, my thumb never stopping the slow, circular motion against the bottom of her jaw. when all the smoke cleared my lungs, i watched her exhale a paler cloud. still perched over her lap, i take a hit from the joint again, this time for myself. i exhale slowly again, blowing the smoke up and away from her, not only to be polite but as to not cover her face.

her hand grabs my wrist, pulling it towards her mouth, this time taking a hit on her own. my eyes never leave her lips, watching as they wrap around the filter and how they leave a shiny print of her lips from her lipgloss. how the smoke leaves her mouth, swirling and dancing around her. her and i just look at each other for a minute before she squeezes my thigh and speaks up.

“i prefer your way,” she whispers, a tiny smile toying at her lips. my heart races.

“i think i do too,” i say back, though i wasn’t just thinking it, i’m fully in love with the idea. i never wanted her fo smoke another way ever again, always like this, me in her lap and her hands on me. i would be content living as her personal cigarette holder. taking another hit, i tap my thumb against her jaw, telling her to inhale once again.

by the time the joint is halfway down, she tells me she ‘believes it’s starting to kick in’ with a slightly more dopey smile, eyes now lightly tinted red. thighs beginning to tire from holding myself up on the cushions, i decide to sit down on her thighs. her stiffens, only for a moment, until her hands comfortingly rub my own thighs, before her hands slide up to my waist, pinching my side playfully.

she takes a hit herself again, choking on the smoke a bit when i bend away from her. i crawl off her lap, grabbing the rose i had plucked for her. i guarded the rose from her sight, i use my knife to remove the thorns so they wouldn’t hurt her.

“what is that you’ve got?” she asks through a giggle, trying to peek over my shoulder. her efforts unsuccessful as i practically fold myself in half to block her view.

“none of you business, now just sit there and look pretty,” i laugh, then wince as i jab my ring finger into a thorn. once the last thorn is removed, i look over my shoulder to look at her. her eyes are already on me, big, blue, and beautiful. “close your eyes,” she does so without hesitation.

i grab the joint from her hand, placing it in my lips, “okay, pretty. open,” i let smoke come out between my words. i had the rose held out to her, nervous smile on.

her eyes open, first focusing on my face then the rose. her smile grows instantly, eyes now flicking between the flower and i. i held it out a little more, urging her to take it.

she tentatively reaches out, hand grazing mine. her fingers wrap around the stem, eyes watering a little, “for me?” her voice was so small.

i nod, letting go of the flower so she can inspect it. her smile makes me heart race and stomach fill with butterflies, but the way she looks at the flower is what makes me weak. she looks at it like it’s precious, like i have gifted her the first rose to ever grow. her arms move around my shoulders within seconds.

“thank you,” she whispers into my ear, my arms wind around her waist, squeezing tightly. i mumble an ‘of course’ into her hair, i nuzzle my nose into her. when we part, she stays close to me. i roll another joint while she rests her head on my shoulder, her eyes watching my actions closely.

with the joint in my mouth, bringing the lighter up to the end. before the flame can reach, a pale hand swipes the lighter from my hand. she lights it in her own, lighting the joint for me. her eyes stay on mine as i inhale, hold, and exhale, still making the point to exhale away from her face. she stays facing me, an expectant look on her face.

with her face held in my hand again, i take another drag, exhaling slowly into her mouth again. she smiles, i smile back. the slider door opens, and larissa nearly jumps out of her skin, but doesn’t move from my side. andrea peeks her head out, grinning largely when she sees larissa. as she makes her way over, she grabs the joint from me, taking a hit, and puts it back between my fingers.

“okay, so on a scale of one to ten, how mad would you be if i stayed the night here?” andrea asks larissa, begging hands in front of her.

a sigh leaves larissa, “solid 8. you’re going to make me walk back to the apartment alone?”

andrea is practically pleading, larissa is irritated. i turn and see tomas in the window trying to see the outcome of this conversation. i shake my head at his antics. i take a long pull off the joint, breaking the ash off and putting it out, then cutting andrea off.

“alright! you have fun with tomas, just don’t use the bathroom in the hallway. boys live here,” they both look at me weird, “larissa, i’ll walk you home, if you want,” she smiles softly. andrea squeals loudly, running inside, no doubt to tomas.

“you don’t have to walk me home,” is all larissa says.

“i know i don’t have to, i want to. i would offer to drive you but,” i pointedly hold up the joint and take a drag, “so i will gladly be walk you home.”

— — — — — — —

the party had died down, the only people left were amir and his three roommates, some ‘too drunk to leave’ stragglers, larissa, andrea, and i. sitting on the couch inside, larissa’s head was resting on my shoulder, an arm wrapped lightly around mine. andrea and tomas slowly disappeared from the living room, larissa and i both chuckling at the clumsy duo sneaking away.

i lean my head onto hers, speaking into her hair, “want to head home?” the only response i receive in a gentle nod against my shoulder.

i begin to stand, saying my goodbyes, then give mikal and amir hugs. larissa finally stands, wobbly for a moment. she makes her way to stand by my side, polite goodbye and thank you’s sent to the guys. after grabbing my grinder and weed bag, i pick around the pockets of my sweatshirt, which was still on larissa. finally getting a hold of my keys, i pull her gently along to start the leave.

the air had gotten much colder during our time inside, my arms wrap around myself tightly. there was no way i was going to ask for my sweatshirt back, the view of her wearing it was enough to keep the cold from consuming me. always observant, larissa notices my shivering and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into her side. my own arm goes beneath the sweatshirt, hand now resting on her waist.

i pull the remainder of the joint from earlier, it’s a little bent but can still do the job. i hand larissa the lighter, and she takes the hint, lighting it for me as she had previously tonight. we pass the joint back and forth as we walk.

“thank you, for tonight,” she says when we’re about half way to her apartment, she’s gently playing with the rose between her fingers.

“of course. i wanted to make sure you got home safe. and you’re welcome over to smoke, or not, whenev- i mean if you want,” i say, hoping that she’ll take me up on my offer to at least hang out. i just needed her presence, she was too beautiful to lose.

“be careful with that offer, you may never get rid of me,” she chuckles, smile bright and eyes glowing. she was a star plucked from the heavens and placed here on earth, just for me.

“maybe that was the plan all along,” my voice is quiet, i’m stuck in a trance by her beauty.

we arrive at her building, climbing shaky stairs to her door. she opens the door, motioning for me to come inside with her, and i follow with no hesitation. she walks quickly down the hall, to what i assume is her room, before coming back out with a sweatshirt. with an amused smile, she hands me her own cream colored zip up to wear.

we sit crisscross on the couch facing each other, my arm resting on the back of the couch to hold my head up. larissa just sat up, playing with her hands in her lap as we spoke.

“why did you give me that rose?” she asks, her eyes back on my face.

i can only be honest with her, “because it’s pretty, and so are you. i didn’t really think much before cut it, just that i wanted to give you a flower.”

she presses her lips together to hide her smile, but the blush on she cheek betrays her. when she finally allowed herself to look at me, she whispers, “do you actually think i’m pretty, or are you just high?”

i’m taken back by the question, my heart cracking at her thinking i wouldn’t find her beautiful. i reach for her hands, leaning close to her, “i think you’re beautiful. i always do, sober included,” i tilt my head to catch her eyes that dropped to our hands, “i gave you the rose because i like you. like a lot, like so much that amir has banned me from talking about you when we’re in the car because it’s ‘too tempting to kick me out while moving’ in his words,” this both shock and amuses her, so i go on, “i was sober when i picked the rose for you, i wasn’t when i have it to you, but the rose was always for you, larissa.”

she looks me in the eye, probably in search of a lie, but she won’t find one and she didn’t. her hands tighten their grip on my own, “i really like you too, incredibly so. and not just because i’m high. i’ve liked you ever since freshman year in that intro writing seminar, you lived right down the hall and i never got the courage to just knock on the door.”

i have no words to offer her, only an awestruck stare. my heart was frantically beating in my chest, my hands frozen in hers. in a sudden rush, i throw myself at her, and wrap my arms around her shoulders, back on her lap after hours away. her strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me in further, her head burying in my neck. god, she was just so warm and she was so close, this was what heaven felt like, i’m sure.

her head picks up, now only an inch from my face, “can i kiss you?” her voice is so small, but the grip on my waist is confident. my arms slide from her shoulders, hand coming up to cup her jaw on both sides

“please,” and she does. her lips are so soft, gently dancing with my own. i pull her face in more, needing her closer, closer, closer. my hands slide into her hair, gently threading through soft tresses. her hands grasping my back, gripping my clothes. sliding down, her hands are on my ass, pulling my body in as much as she can. and i let her, and i’ll keep letting her. her tongue asks for entry, and i allow her in immediately, moaning into her mouth at the contact. the high from the marijuana mixing with the high of her touch was creating an addicting feeling, one i didn’t want to live without ever again.

she pulls away slightly, and i whine as i pull her in again. she gives in, laughter lightly vibrating in her chest. i pull away this time, breathing becoming necessary. i rest my forehead against hers, not daring to open my eyes so i can’t ruin this perfect moment. lips press against my cheek, gently moving up to my temple, before she’s back resting on the crook of my neck.

“stay,” she says into my neck, arms wrapping around me tightly. i definitely didn’t want to walk back to amir’s alone, and i most definitely didn’t want to leave her. i just hug her tighter, pressing kisses to her hair.

we stayed like this for a little while, wrapped in each other’s arms and mumbling to each other. i could feel her relaxing against me, likely ready to fall asleep, and i wasn’t far behind her. i pull away from our hug, holding her face in my hands. big blue eyes, soft from sleepiness were staring back at me, a barely-there smile on her lips.

“bed time?” i whisper, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“you have to stay with me,” her voice is like honey, eyes never leaving mine.

“i wouldn’t dream of leaving,” pressing a kiss to her lips, i move off her lap and stand in front of her with my hand out for her. she grabs my hand so gently, as if she’s afraid she’ll hurt me, and lacing our fingers together. she leads the way down to her room.

with the lamp turned on, i could see her room is impeccably clean, only mess is her unmade bed. she lets go of my hand to walk over to her dresser, and i walk around looking at the photos and decorations. a photo of her and a girl with long black hair stand out, arms wrapped around each other, wearing matching uniforms. ‘cute,’ i think to myself. a little rainbow flag rests amongst pencils and pens on a desk in the corner, a matching little lesbian flag with the makeup brushes in the cart next to the desk. these make me smile, knowing she’s proud of herself had my heart melting.

she taps my shoulder, presenting me with sweatpants and a t-shirt of hers when i turn around. we both move to stand on different sides of her bed, she turns away and i copy her. we get changed quickly, or at least i did, wanting to be able to have my eyes on her again. she throws an ‘okay?’ over her shoulder, which i only respond to my picking up my clothes and folding them neatly, moving to put them on top of her dresser. she busies her self with pulling back the comforters and sheets, fixing her many pillows.

settling into bed proves a little awkward at first, both of us laying side by side, not speaking, lamp still on. she moves first, turning the lamp off before settling back in, now on her side, facing me. opening my arms, i motion for her to move closer. she scoots into my side, head resting on my chest as my arm wraps around her at her shoulders, our legs wrap around each other.

“larissa?” i whisper out, she nods against my chest, “i really like you,” i say quietly, my free hand grabbing hers and playing with her fingers. i’m fully aware she can feel my heart beating quicker.

she squeezes my hand, “i really like you too.” she places a kiss to my clothed chest before resting her chin there. “can we get breakfast tomorrow?”

i laugh at her sudden change in conversation, “of course we can, we can go get my car and we’ll go wherever you want, and you can get whatever you like.”

“french toast from the diner on dawson street?” she bites her lip with a smile, and my own smile grows huge on my face. she’s so impossibly adorable, and i get to witness it.

“it’s a date,” i say, relishing in the excited look on her face. she stretches up and presses a long kiss to my lips, then a short one right after, then gets settled back on my chest.

once i hear her breathing even out, her grip on my shirt loosen, i finally allow myself to close my eyes. i thank my lucky stars for this moment. to be holding larissa, falling asleep in her bed, wearing her clothes. heaven has got nothing on this, nothing on her.

hope y’all like this one, i actually really loved writing this and how it turned out. all feedback is appreciated <3

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems fanfic #larissa weems #gwendoline christie #larissa weems is a lesbian #wednesday netflix #brienne of tarth

249 notes · View notes

dottedmage · 1 year

Text

GOOD LIRD I FINALLY FINISHED THIS

Finnally a proper references for my agent headcanons hurray. “Nakey” version + other info under the cut (looking you with eyes, you will read everything)

Timeline for this is Sara and Cube post RotM, Mars and Eight with their splat2 outfits but beginning of splat3 appearences (i was too lazy to come up with clothes lol)

Sara

-23 years old

-Top left side of her head is permanently scared due to direct contact wih sanitized ink. Has permanent blury vision on her left eye, moderate hearing loss on her left ear and pain on her left shoulder.

-His hands and feet got hit by significant amounts of fuzzy ooze while cutting it all down. This is why he wasnt able to keep going 👍 (no bones for an ankle to be broken uknow)

-Says the most unserious of things in the most serious tone, seems like theyre joking but its always from their heart

-Sees themselves a lot in Cube and takes care of it and gives it advice contantly. Offered Cube to go live with them after their mission was over but Cube refused

-Knows a little bit of octarian, hes trying his best but has a unique way of mispronouncing words

Mars

-22

-Very clumsy during his 1st time as an agent so he has lots of scars because of that

-Scars on his right side are from a bomb explosion gone very wrong

-After splat2 she grew her hair out and styled it to match Maries a bit

-Lives in a shared apartment with Sara and sometimes Eight

-Was catching up with her high school missed agent years and is now studing some general science/space-based course 👍 he like space a lot

-Was very mad and very upset and very sad he was not the one choosen to be sent into space to save the earth

-Fluent in octarian, also knows a bit of salmonling

Eight

-22

-Her weird spots are a reaction from perlonged exposure to a sanitized environment, the bigget her spots are the better, the smaller the worse. She sometimes wakes up with random pains, especially in her right arm and back

-Lives with Pearl and Marina post OE, also spents a loooottt of time at 4 and 3s place

-Fluent in inklish but has a funny accent

-Loves travelling with Pearl and Marina, honestly she loves travelling with anyone but her cool lesbian moms go to 100 places in a month so its a plus she gets to go with them for free

-Very good cook, is bad with deserts but shes getting better

Cube

-16

-Became a little furry tiger-ish inkling due to prolonged exposure to fuzzy ooze. Unlike Sara it is less fuzzy, its just spread all around its body

-Cannot change into squid form and produces ink very slowly in a small amount, limiting its capacitie of participating in ink related sports.

-Scavanged the deserts around splatsville for trinkets to sell in 2nd hand markets and fairs. Meet with Deep Cut once or twice during that period, hence their pre-assumption that it was gonna steal the stuff for itself

-In their free time they used to participate in turf wars. They considered doing salmon runs but found it extremelly wrong and immorall

-Little buddy was a salmonid that wanted to see more of the world so they snuck into, a very distracted, workers hat. Lucky for them that worker was very friendly, and tired of grizzcos work, so they showed little buddy all around splatsville and its deserts and even a beach. They quickly beacame friends and are inseparable now

-It knows salmonling wowow

-Maths fan, number one stan of geometry and shapes

-Tableturf card collector

-Lives in a too-big of an apartment with the squid sisters

-Goes to school now hurray!!

-Visits Sara a lot, doesnt spent much time there as Eight but does show up unannounced

Suspense music, relatioship thang:

Sara

About Mars; My friend, my one and only. I can count on her for everything. I do have to keep an eye out for her extreme clumsiness

About Eight; I wish i got to spent more time with her. Shes very fun and makes me feel at home when shes around.

About Cube; Was this how Callie and Marie felt when i joined the splatoon? Fun kid, has to stop stepping on metal.

Mars

Sara; oh Sara my good friend Sara. We ding dong ditch together, our neighbours hate us but they dont know that. (also i dont think she realizes were dating....)

Eight; oooo my love kiss kiss muah muah

Cube; funny kid, does need to make up for not inviting me to space with them. Im joking, i love it and the little rocks it gives me.

Eight

Sara; Hes very unserious! You would think behind her intimidating looks is someone thats shy and reserved but she has the wildests things to say sometimes, shes very funny i like her a lot (we need to talk to her abt that, you cannot keep assuming things Mars...)

Mars; There is not a single conversation with you where i dont laugh my heart out. Thank you for the butterflies in my stomach head and eyes

Cube; It comes into our house, it eats all the food, it gives a long detailed compliment, it leaves. Interesting child i guess.

Cube

Sara; Seemed very intimitading at first but i think shes just worries about me but hey! i can take care of myself fine

Mars; i like to give her animal shaped rocks and crystals.

Eight; I haven't talked or seen her a lot but she cooks so well

o wow you read it all congrats! you have the right to 1 (one) drawing request ;) and if you have anything to ask please do, talking abt headcanons and stuff makes me develop characters faster and its fun :]

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #octo expansion #splatoon 3 #agent 3 #captain 3 #agent 4 #agent 8 #new agent 3 #neo3 #xeno octoling #xeno inkling #baahahhaha eight is so tall in her heels #sorry no little buddy bc i have not gotten to the worlbuilding part of salmonids #maybe next time

130 notes · View notes

specialbrewbutterbeer · 2 years

Text

Unorthodox (PART II) (Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Kazansky!Reader)(+ IceMav)

PART 1 HERE

Word Count: 9812

TW: Parental death/funerals, mentions of a marriage of convenience, institutional homophobia, alcohol consumption, possibly swearing, NSFW CONTENT AT THE END (for once I decided to actually go graphic so just be warned, may or may not be badly written, unsure) There is lots of fluff and lots of angst here- some based on my own experiences.

AN: Enough people wanted a part two that I wrote one. Idk how it got this long, but I really went in for the IceMav stuff and I couldn't help but make it super sweet with them. It just felt right. Writing this ended up in me reading through the entire F-14 Tomcat's flight operations manual and spending an hour picking music because I wanted to do another one with a bit of a diegetic music thing going on. So...

Enjoy! (Requests are open, feedback and replies are really needed! I wanna know what you guys think of what I write! I adored reading what you thought of Pt.I, special shoutout to @teacactusworld and @cowboybarbie cos I loved reading what they thought!)

REQUESTS (OPEN)

MASTERLIST

---------------------------

It didn't take long. She was glad about that, she hoped it meant less pain and stuffering if it just happened quick. Just a couple days after Pete had visited.

Bob had texted her that same night after he dropped her home- he couldn't have waited if he'd tried. She felt like a giddy teenager getting the message. She'd not stopped talking to him since- for three days, flirting and talking and slowly pulling details from eachother.

Until now. Now she hadn't thought about her phone once, or work or anytime outside of their home.

She woke up in the morning and her father wasn't at breakfast.

She didn't say anything, just shared a look with her Mom over the heads of her younger siblings.

She didn't sit in her usual place, she just felt herself go pale. She knew it was coming, but it still hurt.

She waited until she was out of the kitchen to break into a sprint down the hall. The study door was locked- empty then. She half lept up the stairs to stand in the hall and see, through her parents bedroom door, her Papa laying in bed.

This was a man who had gotten up at 5am everyday since he joined the Naval Academy at 17.

It was now nearly 10.

She knocked on the door and he looked up. He didn't smile. How could he smile at his daughter when her face was smothered in fear and pale shock?

"Baby girl?" He coughed out the words, as fried and cracking as they were now.

"Papa." She spoke and walked in. She felt like a little kid and it was awful.

Immediately she wanted to call Pete- tell him to drop everything and get here. But her Dad didn't want that, she knew. He never wanted anyone to see him like that- if he could have kept all of them away, he would have. But especially not Pete.

She sat at the edge of her bed and images of her Dad when she was little- when he seemed barely 20 something, tall, strong and muscular- looking young enough to be her brother, not her Dad- flashed before her.

He was 27 when she was born. He met Sarah, had (y/n) and they married in the space of year. Just after TopGun.

He had told her before, that he'd always wanted kids. That she was his absolute dream.

It wasn't long after she was born that he started rapidly climbing the ranks- he wanted more kids, for sure, but her Mom was already struggling to cope with moving all round the country with a newborn, so they waited a few years.

So she was a Daddy's girl. She was Pete's girl too- in those years he was around increasingly.

No matter where they were, Pete would turn up. He'd be in the house- she remembered being a toddler, one of her earliest memories, was of her Dad and Pete.

When she thought back on it, she remembered going to see him too- her Dad and her would drive, or fly, cross country, just the two of them, to visit Pete. Those were good memories, he was a good Dad. He was patient and kind, he lived for his kids.

He rarely missed a parent teacher conference, a recital, a game. He wanted, needed to be there for it. He did whatever he could to be there. No matter how much of his own down time he'd miss, how much he'd have to catch up on, how far he'd have to travel for something that was really and ultimately trivial- he did it. He had to.

She remembered those early years, with just them- fondly. When her Dad walked around the house in boxer shorts and dog tags, a piece of toast in his hand and her, tucked under the other arm, in a diaper, giggling.

She remembered hazily those days, just before school age. She remembered her Dad, and Pete. Back then, she was either with her Dad or her Mom. Not both. She knew they'd been through a patch- sorta seperated for a while. That must have been then.

Pete seemed to always be around then.

Her Dad and Pete practically lived together- when they weren't working overseas. She got handed off from one parent to the other at airports and at the front door of the house as they swapped in and out.

Him and Pete- young men who didn't look like they should have been in charge of a kid, and yet they managed it in their own 'bachelorish' way.

Pete was good with kids because he could make them laugh and they liked him- he played a bit rough but always kissed grazed knees better and snuck a few M&Ms or some other candy to her behind his back when Tom wasn't looking. It only took Pete to ask once (or occasionally bribe) to get the kids to do anything. He always knew how to talk to them.

Tom was the affectionate, soppy Dad - he'd chase her round the house and catch her in a flurry of tickles and kisses as she squeaked and laughed. He'd sit with her in his lap, both with Tootsie pops in their mouths, on the floor and watch cartoons. He demanded a kiss on the cheek everytime his little girl left his side. He learned how to do her hair, and obliged when she wanted to but butterfly hairclips in his.

She'd sit on Pete's knee as he sat on the counter in the kitchen and her Dad cooked their meals. It was Pete who picked her up from preschool when Tom couldn't. They'd take turns taking care of her when she woke in the night- rocking the little girl back to sleep or sitting with her until she did by herself. They all three had to brush their teeth together at night or she would kick up a fuss and refuse to do it. If Pete was getting her dressed for preschool in the morning, he'd let her pick what she wanted to wear, and he'd carry her downstairs (she's a clumsy Princess and Pete, as rough and tumble as he is, refused to let her just figure out that you can't run down the stairs at 60mph and expect not to fall, on her own, or just hold her hand or something like Tom did. She was too precious for that) to the kitchen to present her to her Dad in the most insane outfits. Tom always dressed her smartly and neatly and always pressed her clothes with as much care as he would press and tidy his own dress uniform. It was Pete who was the panicky one- if she got so much as a paper cut his heart would absolutely stop and if she cried over it; it was all just over. He hadn't felt the anxiety and adrenaline like that ever- even when Bradley was a baby (but that's because Carole and Nick were such natural parents and so deeply calm). Tom was just a pick up and carry on type- he had figured out the whole 'if you don't react like it's a big deal, they won't either' thing. He always just brushed her down and kept going- held her hand and fixed it. He was a fixer.

The longest she stayed with her Dad was a month and half- before he was shipped out again. The agreement with Sarah was that she would go and stay with her own mother whilst Tom was home, he'd look after (Y/n), and the rest of the time, she'd be back in the house with the baby.

(Y/n) remembered vividly being in her Mother's arms to say goodbye to her Papa and Pete, surrounded by all the other Pilots' wives and kids and families. She'd sobbed and screamed and reached out for them. She was too young to understand what was going on or why, she just knew her Papa was leaving her behind and she didn't want him to go. So she clung on to her mother and cried her eyes out.

It was a chaotic time really- confusing and stressful for all of them, though it wasn't all bad, the good times were some of the best.

That didn't last long though. Whatever had made her parents split, they resolved. She'd never dug deep into that issue to find out why they'd split. She guessed the stress of a new baby and her Dad being there and then not being there all the time.

Over the years, Pete was still highly prominent in her life, but not as he had been in those months. Her parents became a force to be reckoned with, a proper team and when she looked at them: there was a deep love there, deep respect and admiration.

And now after all these years, more kids, more chaos and trouble and good and bad. Here was her beloved Papa, a man who she ate froot loops with at their dining table before her first day of school- her in pigtails and a little pink pair of corduroy dungarees and him (as he always seemed to be as a young dad) shirtless- both grinning from ear to ear and laughing at nothing because she was just so excited; a man who consoled her when her own marriage (which she had done on a whim and without telling anyone) broke down after barely a month; a man who made beards out of bubble bath; who for the love of God flew fighter jets for near enough 25 years! A man she wanted to walk her down the isle and be the first to hold his grandchildren. She'd always thought that wasn't much to ask but here he was. And she could do nothing but get used to the idea that he wasn't going to get to do that.

Here he was. In bed, weak, frail and tired. He wasn't even old yet. He wasn't even mandatory retirement age yet.

She held his hand and said nothing. They both knew what this signalled. They both knew how rapid it would be now.

What the fuck could she say? What was she meant to say to her perfect Father as he lay there fading away? She'd known this was coming but it still hurt. She couldn't have even tried to prepare the words to tell him. She just wanted to tell him she loved him. Because she did and that seemed the most important thing. She loved him and was proud of him- his work, his life, his achievements. She was astounded by him, respected him and adored him like she'd never adore anyone else. She didn't know how he could be such a good Dad and a fighter pilot and then Admiral and never ever fail at either job. He'd never let her down. Not until now.

She wanted to be so angry that she was being left behind, that his body could give up on him like this when he was such a sharp mind, when he was so clever and he'd always eaten right and stayed fit. She wanted to slap him round the face and tell him he was a fucking idiot, of course he wasn't dying, just get up and work like normal and pretend it all wasn't real. But it was. And it was unfair to be angry, not now. She knew she had all the time in the world to be angry later. But now she just wanted her Papa. In whatever form he was in.

Through the day she sat with him. They talked and her siblings did the same, even her eldest brother, who was 3rd year of college age now, curled up into his sister as they sat with their Dad. She put her arms around him and cradled him like when they were small, and they held their Dad's hand.

Everyone knew Tom Kazansky didn't have favourites. He was highly professional and moral. He didn't have favourite children and he loved them all equally. If anything happened to any of them he'd rather have flung himself in front of a train or off a twenty story building than just let it. Yet- her- his first born. How could he not favour her somehow. When she wasn't just his baby girl, when he was sure he'd never felt love until he'd seen her, when she had been there for so long that he knew he'd had no life before her, when she had been their baby girl.

In the evening he seemed dazed, very tired and less sure of what was happening around him. She expected it was a mixture of things, but mostly from the painkillers he was being given.

By the morning he was just confused, fidgety- he'd always been a fidget but this was an anxious fidget. Her Mom had been up with him all night, as he slept and woke in fits and starts. He just wasn't sure quite of where he was, he knew he was in his own bed- but he didn't seem to recognise it, he knew everyone's name but not necessarily who they were to him. Not all the time. He just- he was hazy on things and that was hard when just a day or two before he was as sharp and witty as ever. That was the one thingthing that'd he'd always had through this illness- his mind. And now at the last second it was slipping away from him.

That afternoon, as she sat with him, (y/n) noticed him glancing toward the side of the room. It was the first time they'd been alone- her Mom was taking care of her other kids and the siblings were scattered around the house- some of them too nervous to sit for too long with their Dad, others too distraught.

"What you looking at?" She asked softly.

"Is (y/n)- is she in the crib?" He asked in reply as he moved his head to see, his voice weak and crackled. He seemed to still understand he was ill and couldn't get up.

(Y/n) looked over to the spot where he was staring.

"Did Pete take her downstairs?" He asked again and looked at her.

"Yeah, he did." She nodded. He nodded back.

"I really love them. I love em both." He spoke. "They're the loves of my life, Sarah." In his haze she looked exactly like her mother and that's who he believed he was talking to. He closed his eyes again.

She understood then- lots of things.

She looked up and saw her Mom in the doorway.

They shared a look and her Mom nodded.

"I know, Tommy. It's alright." She spoke as she sat by her husband with a somber smile.

By the third morning he was gone.

It was like he'd waited for everyone to be asleep. It was the kind of thing he would do.

(Y/n) stayed quite calm throughout that day. She was suddenly quite numb to it all.

She and her mother worked through everything they had to- he was taken away to be prepared for the funeral, people were notified, they all consoled eachother.

Eventually it was just her and her Mom sat in the kitchen. Each of them had poured out a glass of good whisky (on the rocks) to drink in their husband and father's honour.

"Mom?" (Y/n) spoke quietly, resting her head on her shoulder.

"Yes baby?" She answered, taking a deep breath.

"Papa..." She began to speak and had to pause to get the courage to continue the question. "Him- and Pete?" She stopped and her mother needed no further prompt.

"Your Dad and Pete, baby-" Her Mom spoke gently. "They were in love." She looked at her daughter. "I didn't know it when we met, when we had you- even when we got married." She shook her head but a smile lay on her lips. "But Pete was there before me, he was there with me, and he would have been there after me."

"How did you-" (y/n) started to ask, but when she thought about it- it couldn't have been more obvious.

"I just knew it. And he admitted it when I finally asked." Sarah spoke.

Then the first tears slipped down (y/n)'s face. She quickly raised a hand to her eyes and wiped them away.

"We'd been married just over a year, and I felt so stupid" The older woman chuckled and hugged her daughter close. "But he wasn't cold- he never denied me anything, he was perfect- except for that the love he had for me wasn't what he and Pete had and I could see that." (Y/n) just nodded.

"I couldn't just have the marriage annulled- the grounds for that would have had your father and maybe even Pete dishonourably discharged. I was angry but I couldn't do that- that was too wrong. We didn't really have the money to divorce- so we just-"

"Split?"

"Mhm- I stayed with my Mama at home when your Dad wasn't away and when he was I stayed at the house. It meant you didn't have to travel so much and we didn't have to see eachother. And- before I left, I told him, 'Tommy- You gotta understand I'm not making you choose and I'm not angry that you love him. I know you love him, and that's why you gotta be with him, I'm angry because you did it behind my back, you couldn't just say it."

"What happened?"

"Well- that time was probably the closest they had to being a proper couple. You know how Pete is when he flies, the trouble he gets- your Dad bailed him out but he ended up overseas and that was what sealed it." Sarah sighed. "What they wanted they weren't gonna get- not back then. The Navy- it wouldn't have tolerated that relationship. They wouldn't have tolerated it for an Admiral especially, which, of course, your Papa became. Maybe if it were now- if things were different-" Sarah shook her head. "It was sad- I was still angry but we decided not to go it alone. We were still friends, and I realised that he could love me too. I knew it wasn't the same, but we both got what we wanted this way. We were best friends and that's all we needed. Pete was always going go be there- and every time he visited your Dad would ask me if I was okay with it. He'd go and sleep with him in the spare room, and he'd ask then too- and how could I say no? I wasn't spiteful, how could I not recognise that your Dad had a big enough heart to love his family and Pete and that he couldn't really be happy without him?" Sarah smiled. "I know most people would think that's crazy- but we made it work. We couldn't have been happier, all of us." She looked at her daughter, watched as her eyes sparkled with thought and greif and as she began to feel all mixed up.

"Why didn't we know?" She asked after a moment. "What- was he ashamed? Or?"

"No- he wasn't at all. Papa was confident and stubborn- you know that." Sarah laughed a little and wiped another tear from her daughter's face. "We just wanted everything to line up for you kids. You kids knew what everyone else knew, that your father and I loved eachother very much and that your father and Pete loved eachother very much. The nature of those relationships, everything else, didn't really matter. It wasn't a lie. I suppose we just didn't want to confuse you- and we didn't want anyone to know. You know what kids are like- they blab." She laughed again.

(Y/n) nodded. It felt like all the pieces were falling into place. But now her heart was heavier and ached harder for Pete. She also greived that she could have known her father better- understood him better maybe. And yet, equally, she was glad that, though maybe unusual, they'd stumbled across a way of loving that worked, accommodated the world they lived in, the work they did and the others relationships in their lives. She supposed it didn't surprise her. She was happy that they had been happy.

She was sure she loved her Pete even more than she ever had before- to know that he brought so much happiness and love to the man she adored, whom she idolised and had always been her best friend. It was like some relief washed over her.

The first time she broke down in tears was after the funeral. She nearly broke when the same day that he'd passed, the Navy sent a couple people to retrieve all the confidential paperwork and files in her Dad's office- they apologized profusely and said they'd have waited if they could have, but he had so much sensitive information on active projects and missions that they couldn't risk it. To give them credit, they were very careful to be tidy and sensitive to personal possessions and files- which they backed up onto two harddrives and gave to Sarah- deleting it off of the PC they were taking away, to be returned once they'd recovered everything they needed and wiped it. But watching all of these things leave the house was like taking away pieces of a man who they already felt they had so little left of. But still- it wasn't till after the funeral.

It had been lovely. The weather was warm, and bright. It was attended by many and it was warming to see the pilots her Dad had flown with, mentored, admired, be there for him one last time.

She looked across at Pete. She hadn't seen him so brushed up for a long time- and like her, he was remarkably calm.

When all the pomp and ceremony was done, and finally it was all over- she half flung herself at him.

She said nothing, and he didn't care that she would crumple his uniform. He just wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes as she sobbed into him. She held on so tight- fistfuls of fabric which tugged everytime she breathed. He didn't care. He felt the same. As people passed by them, trying not look at the picture of greif carved in front of them, neither of them cared.

Pete kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek there. She felt him tense and hold his breath as he tried to hold together, and then shake as tears finally broke the surface.

Sarah ushered her other children away as the gathered party moved slowly and somberly through the cemetery in the low sun and toward the transport. Some of them talked amongst themselves, some of them stayed silent. There were tears and some shared happy memories with eachother. But (y/n) could only crumble in Pete's arms, and he realised that there were only three people in his adult life now he'd cried in front of. Goose, Ice and his baby girl.

She was his. There was no doubt. For all her life he had been there and never was he going to leave. He'd watched her grow up- he'd been her other Dad. He supposed he'd never thought of himself that way- but she sure had. She was theirs. She understood that now. She understood why her Dad and her and Pete had always seemed a natural family- why he was so present and why, her mostly, but not just her, all of her silblings too, responded to him. Why did he fit so well into that role.

Because he was supposed to be there.

And now they were all missing a great big chunk of their lives.

She pulled away for a moment.

"Pete?" She whispered and looked up at him with a matching tear stained face. She thought she'd be able to speak a bit louder but what came out was meek and uncharacteristically unsure.

He looked back at her and saw the little girl he recognised, but torn up to ribbons behind those big pretty eyes of hers.

"Papa loved you." She spoke with a crack in her voice and all choked up.

Pete nodded.

"I know." He whispered as he pulled her back into him, enveloping her in his arms. "He told me plenty." She just nodded and her sobs became audible choked cries. "I loved him too. More than anything." He continued. "More than Penny, more than flying- nearly as much as I love Bradley and you, sweetheart." How his voice was so soothing even when throttled by tears and angst she didn't know. It always had been to her.

She held on tighter and tighter, feeling like she was going to go lightheaded with how few breaths she could take through her sobbing, and Pete continued now to allow tears to pour down his face.

It took a good while for them both to soothe. But it was a needed release of emotion that neither of them had had the chance for yet.

Finally (y/n) stood back and almost went to just scream, but she couldn't. She just looked up to the clear, cloudless sky, still clinging onto her Godfather's sleeve like he was going to drift away or try and leave her. Nothing would have taken that man away then.

She breathed and Pete held her hand, and she felt his shake.

"It's not fair." She spoke.

"No." He tensed his jaw and ground his teeth. "Not at all." He spoke, wiping the tears from his cheek.

She looked back at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. She sniffled and paused for a second before then looking down the slope.

Pete put his arm around her shoulder and she leant into him. Slowly they walked toward the others as they climbed into various modes of transportation.

The venue for the wake was suited to that expected of an Admiral- it was the bar room of an upmarket hotel in town, and it was a weirdly nice atmosphere, a few 80s tunes playing above the chatter.

No-one expected it to be as nice as that- but there was something therapeutic about being surrounded by people who were there because they had good memories and great respect for someone she loved.

The place was filled, even more people than could make it to the service had arrived for the wake, and everyone had something nice to say. There was no pity or tears (apart from her Mom, who had got talking to Ron Kerner, aka Slider, about something or other they'd gotten up to in the Academy- and they'd laughed so hard she'd cried) which was nice. There were smiles and fondness and everyone knew it had to be that way because if you'd met the man once, you knew that Kazansky didn't require pity and though he was tactful and serious at work, the moment he was off duty, he had something sly and witty to say, something to joke about. He had a kiddy sense of humour.

God, it was nice. It was soothing and relaxing and (Y/n) and Pete were the last to walk into the place with it's plush carpet and moulded wood panels and sparkling light fixtures. It was a celebration of his life, not an occasion just to miss him.

"Right- let's get you a drink, then we'll get you talking." Pete smiled and held out his arm, which (y/n) nodded to and hooked hers through.

They leant on the bar and eventually ended up with drinks in hand. In the interim plenty of people approached and shook her hand and when she smiled- sensed it was genuine and she allowed them to tell her what a wonderful man her father was and how they knew him and such. She thought she might have disliked that, but she found herself very proud of how many people clearly held her father very dear and enjoyed his company or were simply honoured to have worked with him. Not a single person was there purely for duty or obligation. (And she and her mother over the following days would receive many messaged of regret that various people couldn't attend.)

(Y/n) turned against the bar and leant back, scanning the room. Her eyes were less red now and her cheeks less stained.

To one side of the room she saw Pete's students, all dressed to the nines in their dress uniforms. All on best behaviour but fairly relaxed and talking amongst eachother.

She was proud of them too. They looked so smart, and everyone knew they were the best of the best. They were there because there her Dad's pilots. He,'d known each one of them inside and out, their skills, flaws and talents just from paperwork and crossed wires. He picked those men and women as the best of the best and believed in them.

She smiled as she watched them.

Over the past days she'd all but forgotten Lieutenant Floyd. She'd thought lots about him- partially as an escape and partially because she already knew how much she liked him and she didn't like to think that she'd not get to bring him home to her Dad.

It was a weird time to be thinking about a romance, and maybe it was just the emotionally charged atmosphere but she couldn't help it.

She let her gaze stop at him without thinking, and was only shaken out of it when he looked back at her.

She held it for a moment before fully realising what she was doing and where she was, she felt her cheeks flush with heat and looked away.

Pete laughed, his eyes darting between the pair.

(Y/n) put a hand to her face and felt the frankly searing heat of her cheeks, she smiled sheepishly and took a deep swig of her drink.

"You're that taken by him, huh?" Pete asked. She looked to him and didn't need to say anything. It took him by surprise, the look he saw in her eyes.

"Wow-" He exclaimed but under his breath, in a sort of whisper, taken aback by it. "You really are..."

"Pete!" She spoke in a hushed tone, with an embarrassed laugh. "I've been out with him once- I barely know him."

"Yeah. You can change that-" Pete encouraged with a grin.

"Oh my god-" She laughed, almost tempted.

"What's this?" A voice came from beside her. She turned and found her Mom on her other side of her.

"How are you, baby?" She asked, placing her hands on her daughters shoulders in that motherly, directorial way that Mom's do, and kissed her cheek.

"I'm alright Mom-" She spoke, with a little smile. "Are you-" She began, but her Mom just nodded.

"Pete?" Her Mom softened and moved to embrace the pilot, who reciprocated with a smile and a sigh.

"Sarah." He spoke, breathing her name like seeing her was a relief.

"You're- you're holding up?" She asked as he pulled away.

"(Y/n) and I are keeping eachother going, I think." He nodded and smiled, looking past Sarah and to her daughter.

"Good. I'm glad to see it." She spoke and turned to see the direction that they'd been looking as Pete turned and ordered a glass of wine from the Bartender for Sarah. "Oh-" She laughed. "Your 'non-pilot'?" She smiled.

"God- even you know?" (Y/n) wanted the ground to swallow her up.

"Of course I do- your Father always told me everything." She grinned and glanced at Pete."Well, almost always." Pete gave a breathy laugh and shook his head, handing her the glass. "Thank you-" She spoke gently before sparking back up into a perkiness. "Actually- that reminds me." She began to dig through her purse. "Just a moment my lovelies." She smiled and pulled away from the group as Pete and (y/n) watched curiously.

"Oh my god- Pete? What is she up to?" She laughed and shook her head, clinging onto his arm and resting her forehead on his shoulder to hid from the embarrassment. No matter how old she was, her parents (all three of them) would manage that.

"Lieutenant Floyd?" She spoke quietly and he turned. (Y/n) watched him turn from his conversation and answer.

"Yes Ma'am?" He spoke politely and stood up straight.

She just smiled and held something out to him.

"Thank you, Ma'am." Bob spoke, slightly unsure looking down at what he had been handed.

Sarah winked and nodded, walking away with a little laugh.

She walked past her daughter and Pete and shared a mischievous look with the pilot, which clued him in to what was going on.

Pete just laughed and shook his head once again.

She watched as he opened what looked to be a small envelope, he'd stepped away from the others for a moment.

He looked terrified as he opened it.

He looked up at (y/n) with wide eyes.

It was Rooster that first noticed his expression, and walked to him, peeking over his shoulder.

He immediately laughed, loudly, attracting the attention of his fellow classmates. He slapped Bob on the back, but he was still frozen up. The same reaction was garnered from the others as they gathered around him.

"Bobby?" She spoke, with a concerned expression. She stepped forward and slowly he began to walk across to her, weaving through the throngs of people in the middle of the room.

"Bob? What's wrong?" She gave a confused smile as he got close. He stood close to her, just inches away and looked down at the note in his hands. He pushed it into hers and watched her read it.

'Floyd,

You're goddamm lucky you're not a pilot.

Now Maverick isn't just keeping an eye on your flying.'

Underneath was her father's distinct signature and the paper bore his letter head. The handwriting was slightly shaky, but still clearly her father's.

He put her hand to her mouth, and smiled.

She looked up at him, before putting a hand on his shoulder and pulling him down as she leant up- kissing his cheek softly, and then quickly a peck on the lips for good measure- just to snap him out of his mini-trance.

His expression softened as she pulled away and he stayed stooped for a moment before straightening up. Then he seemed to breathe, and she gave a breathy laugh which Bob returned.

Pete leant around her and took the note from her hand. He read it and smirked. That was so typical. One last chance to playfully embarrass his kid, frighten the life out of one of his daughter's potential boyfriend (because of course he was a protective girl-dad) and give Sarah and Pete a good laugh. That was just like their Tommy. It was just like Ice.

Suddenly, as Bob looked down at her- he couldn't not smile at her, he realised how close they were standing, he towered over her and his heart was beating like a steam train. He couldn't bring himself to move away and her hand had trailed down from his shoulder to rest on his chest.

He looked at her, wearing a black silk slip dress, which was simple and suited the weather, and she looked beautiful in it.

"How are you doing?" He spoke, more seriously now. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt doing this at her father's wake. That felt odd- even with her taking the lead. He feared that she was just- that he might be a distraction.

"Fucking shit- my Dad just died." She smiled. He nodded.

"Yeah." He broke their gaze and his smile faded. "Makes sense."

"Makes me kinda cold, huh?" She laughed.

"Huh?" Bob looked back up at her, surprised.

"Kissing a guy I barely met? At my Dad's funeral? Some people would say that was pretty cold." She looked up at him. He didn't seem to know what to say. "But- he was 'Iceman' after all. 'Ice cold. No mistakes.'" She grinned, and suddenly Bob caught on.

"No mistakes?" He allowed himself a little smile.

She shook her head and gave a little laugh.

"Come on- come talk with me?" She asked with a little tilt of her head.

He nodded, placing his hand on the small of her back and guiding her to a quieter section of the room.

He looked great in his uniform, she couldn't help but think it. He was sweet and she was attracted to him, there was no two ways about that.

She enjoyed the featherlight touch of his fingers on her back, it almost made her twitch. Her stomach fluttered, and she glanced up at him as they moved and he placed himself between her and those he was navigating them around.

He was a gentleman, and she suddenly couldn't take her eyes off of him. A little smile graced her lips as they finally broke from the crowd.

The room had a grand staircase which lead up to a gallery, which lead in turn to the corridors to the rooms and such, and had more tables and couches than were on the periphery of the main bar floor. It was some of the only clear space, so it was where they perched, a few steps up, they sat down, her closest to the banister and him on the outer side.

From there, (y/n) looked out across the room, she saw plenty of people she recognised.

Bob watched her every move, every twitch of a finger, every tightening muscle and every dart of her eyes from someone to him. He liked how her lip curled as she thought, or saw someone that gave her a hit of nostalgia.

"You like your job?" She asked him, as she looked out, leaning back on heels of her palm, her fingers frustratingly close to brushing against him.

"Yeah- I love it. More than anything." He spoke softly and honestly.

"Mmhm-" She mused, a touch of a smile on her face as she finally turned and locked eyes with him. "My Papa did too. It's a thing with you aviators. I think you'd all stay up there forever if you could."

"Yeah-" Bob nodded and smiled. "I think so." He shifted to face her a little more. "You ever been up there?"

She smiled with a fondness and her eyes sparkled bright at the question.

"Yeah- not for a long time, and not in anything special but- My Dad took me up a couple times, Pete too. It was like nothing I've ever felt." She smiled. "Pete tried to teach me a few times, just in something small and hobbyish, but I never stuck with it and got my license. I probably should have- I enjoyed it."

Bob smiled.

"Maybe it's a good thing- My Daddy told me to stay away from pilots too." He laughed and (y/n) grinned.

"You're slicker that you make out to be, Lieutenant Floyd." She smirked, leaning just a little closer.

He chuckled and looked at her with a soft and admiring gaze.

"I doubt it." He spoke quietly, so she could scarcely hear it over the chatter of the room and the music.

(Y/n) pulled him in, though the distance between them already wasn't far, by his uniform jacket, hooking her fingers under the fabric and between the buttons and tugging gently- he complied and didn't hesitate to allow his body to move where she wanted it to be, following the pull of the fabric. There was something hungry in the kiss she gave- as her fingers stayed looped in his uniform, but now they weren't moving him, her knuckles instead pushed flat against his shirt and as he breathed in, the fabric, as well fitted as it was, constricted tight over them.

She seemed to breathe that kiss, it was hungry, but it was also calm and gentle. He indulged in it, as if it were the first and last and he'd stolen it.

"You can doubt it all you like, but actions speak louder than words, Bobby." She whispered as she pulled away for a moment, her chest heaving up and down with the adrenaline of the moment- she was terrified he'd reject it, though it was unfounded fear.

He was next to dive back in. The first kiss was hers. This was his- he found one of his hands had come to rest on her thigh, and the other was still by his side. He moved it to her hip, feeling the soft and hard contours of the flesh and bone there, through the slipping silk fabric. The other he used to steady himself, taking hold of her forearm that was hovering by her side and not holding on to him, and pulling it in to him a little, his fingertips pressing into her skin like she would disappear from his grip.

He didn't drink, but tasting the whisky on her lips was like heaven- the sweetest thing he'd ever known.

When he finally pulled himself from the kiss, she seemed entirely dazed, in a happy way. Her cheeks were flushed with heat, as were his.

She looked away, almost shy. How this man made such a confident woman this way, she didn't know, but she liked it.

She didn't care that it was almost certain that everyone in the room had noted what they were doing, and probably disapproved considering the scenario. She agreed it was strange, but the heart wanders like that. Her Father clearly didn't live his life with the opinions of others often in mind- he was considerate and wise, but confident and secure. Why shouldn't she follow that lead?

Bob seemed lost in thought for a moment, before standing, walking down a couple steps to be at rough eye level with her as she sat, and held out his hand to her.

"Would you come with me?" He asked, quietly.

(Y/n) said nothing, just took his steady hand and stood. He once again held her close into him as they moved through the people, no-one much paying attention to them.

"What are we doing?" She asked in a whisper, curious.

"I'm taking a leaf out of Captain Mitchell's book." He spoke, as the edged past people in the crowded room.

She laughed and said no more. She liked this side of the man, she sensed he didn't often show it.

Quickly they were outside, breathing the fresh air from the sea.

Bob lead her to his pick up and opened the door, in one swift movement he pulled her gently to face him and put his hand on her hips and lifted her up onto the drivers seat, facing him still. He was a fit guy, and bigger than her, so it wasn't difficult. Her heart skipped a beat as he did, she wasn't used to anything like that.

He placed his hands on her knee and thigh and looked up at her, frozen for a moment.

"Can I kiss you?" He asked, an innocent sparkle in his eye, as if what he had just done and where he had put his hands wasn't surely one of the sexiest things that happened to the young woman in her life and hadn't set her aflutter.

"Yes." She laughed at him.

He didn't hesitate to give her a quick and tender kiss, much more ferocious than he had done when they weren't alone. He pulled away with a distinct smile and didn't move as he watched her expression. She enjoyed it profusely.

"Can you grab my phone from glovebox, please?" He asked, and she took a moment to recover from the kiss before she understood what he said.

She nodded and leant back, holding onto the back of the seat for support, opening it as required, before returning to face Bob, who hadn't moved a muscle, his hands still placed strategically on her.

She handed it to him, and he gave a smile.

"You can shuffle over." He spoke gently and she nodded again, and swung her legs around, moving over to the passenger seat with relative ease. He closed the driver's door again as she did and the turned, walking a few steps along the truck and leaning back on it. He put the phone to his ear and spoke very briefly to someone over it, before climbing in and starting the engine. The radio kicked on as he did so.

They said very little as he drove, just shared little glances. He hummed along to the music, thrumming his fingers on the wheel as drove, a sweet smile layed on his lips, his heart nearly beating out of his chest. He didn't usual do shit like this, but she inspired it. She deserved this side of him- the one that bypassed the awkwardness and melted into such a deep fondness and affection.

He watched him. As she had now done so often- he was beautiful. She really thought so. She just admired him, his honey sweetness and she knew how intelligent he was.

Finally he turned off of the road, he turned through an open gate in a chainlink fence- immediately she recognised the place as a small private airport.

She looked to him, a grin on her face- still unsure of what he had planned.

He pulled up outside a hangar, and turned off the ignition. He got out and walked around to the passenger door, opening it and once again offering his hand to her. She took it, as she always would, and stepped out.

He closed the door behind her, as she walked a few steps out on the concrete, she looked up at the hangar and then to him. He let nothing on and just smiled.

"Close your eyes." He told her, his voice dreamy and smooth and she did with a giggly laugh.

She heard the sliding of the hangar door and felt his hand in hers, leading her forward.

"Okay- look." He half whispered.

She did, and her eyes adjusted to the change in lighting.

"Woah-" She exclaimed and stepped forward.

Before her was one of the old F-14s. She recognised it immediately.

"Oh my god- Like my Dad flew?" She spoke in a hush, walking up to the nose of it and placing her palm against the cool grey metal, admiring the scratches and dents still in it, presumably from it's active days.

She looked back at Bob with a little breathy laugh, stunned.

"Bobby!" She breathed his name, her eyes bright and excited. He stood back and watched her stunned expression and smiled.

"It's not just like what your Dad flew." He spoke quietly, his voice still echoing around the otherwise empty hangar.

She looked at him and her eyes set in an expression of recognition. She stepped back and walked alongside the jet, looking up at it.

Below the seam of canopy, sure enough.

"Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky, Ron 'Slider' Kerner-" She gasped. Her breath hitched as she just stared at it. "I never even knew it was here." She whispered.

"It's not been here long, just a couple years. It's part of a private collection, I met the guy who owns it a few years ago. It's not quite taking the Admiral's daughter out for a joyride, but I thought you'd like to see it. Today especially." Bob explained softly as he walked to her. "It doesn't fly at the moment, but your Dad logged over a thousand hours in these things. Most of them in this."

(Y/n) turned to him, and wrapped her arms around him.

"Thank you." She spoke softly, leaning her head on his shoulder. He returned the gesture, placing an arm around her shoulders and one on her arm, as they both looked up at the machine.

They spent another hour, circling the aircraft, noting every detail of it.

Bob knew everything about the planes he flew in, and almost everything about this one too- (Y/n) knew plenty but, hearing more was a dream. Her Dad didn't tell her much, complying with his separation of his work and domesticity.

She kicked off her heels to climb up and see inside, which she seemed to do in half a second and nearly gave Bob a heart attack as he turned to see her and she was suddenly scrambling upward.

She'd done it before, as a kid she'd been down to the base and seen these planes plenty, she had been familiar with them. She stared in, and then pulled away, searching for something that she recognised, which she found. She remembered, just about, how to open the canopy (which someone must have shown her how to do as a kid).

It took a bit of strength but she did it, she stared inside, leaning in and taking it in with complete awe.

She sighed.

"I wish he could have gone flying one last time." She spoke quietly. "He missed it. And then eventually he was too ill." She shook her head but still smiled. She turned to Bob who was stood by her, cautious that she might fall, though she was by no means unsteady. "He'd be glad to know his baby was being looked after." She laughed.

Bob looked up at her and met her gaze.

"Every day for the rest of my life..." he whispered to himself, truly under his breath so she couldn't hear.

After a while, they stepped back. (Y/n) sighed happily, glancing back at it once more, before stepping out. Bob pushed the hangar door closed again.

He turned and saw her looking out at the sky, the sun hanging low, threatening to begin to dip below the horizon.

"One last thing to do." He spoke and she turned her head. She tilted it, a soft expression in her eyes and smiled at him- her cheeks dusted red and strands of hair swaying across her face in the late evening breeze.

She couldn't have looked more beautiful, her dress, pulled by the breeze, showing her figure, her body relaxed, just one hand clasped around the heels that she hadn't put back on. In this light she could have worn anything though, and he would have only been human and still fallen in love with her in an instant.

He was sure he couldn't breathe anymore as he watched.

But he still moved.

They got back in the pick-up and he pulled it around onto the tarmac of the runway.

He stepped out, grabbing his flight jacket from behind his seat, where he kept it.

She followed his lead and walked around and alongside the truck before he caught her up.

He did so quickly after though, and placed the jacket over her shoulders.

"The breeze gets cold." He spoke as he did, and she turned and kissed his cheek quickly, with a candid smile.

He unlatched the tailgate and let it open, before, once again, lifting her up onto it as she held his jacket over her shoulders.

She laughed as he did so and then hopped up next to her. She immediate curled up into him, and he put an arm around her, soothing into the moment.

They watched as the sun painted oranges and reds and pinks and purples into the sky. (Y/n) clung onto the young man, resting her head on him and feeling his fast pulse. Hers was just as rapid, and she felt like she had fallen into a dream.

It had been a weird day, her heart ached from it. She missed her father, deeply, and yet what she had seen today just made her glad that she had had him as her Papa. She knew more about him, his life, heard more love and fondness than she had ever known was possible. She was proud. She knew the greif would hit harder sometime, maybe over and over, but tonight she had a feeling that it was all okay. She knew that he wasn't suffering any longer, and that he had left, in the wake of his life, a blessing to carry on. She knew that he had known love, stronger than anything, and that no matter where she continued this life or who with, she would discover her own version of it.

"I like you very much, Lieutenant Floyd." She spoke, looking up at him. His grip on her tightened slightly as he returned the look. "And I'd like to kiss you. I want you."

"Yes Ma'am." He whispered.

He seemed to melt at the words, giving a small nod that allowed her to press a tender kiss to his lips. One that he returned, and which neither of them wanted to end.

Slowly, her hands drifted to his chest, allowing the jacket to slump off of her shoulders.

Her fingers found the buttons of his uniform jacket and undid them.

She pulled back and looked at him, questioning if she should continue, she felt almost shy about it but he nodded and pulled her back in.

She slid it off of him, and then did the same to his shirt, moving her kisses to his jaw and neck until they became sloppy. Already he was hard, and he pressed his fingertips into the flesh of her hips and waist, leaning his head back as she kissed him- giving small, breathy, sighing moans.

His hands pulled slightly at her dress until they found the hem. Then he ran his fingers across and down her skin, until he reached the lace of her underwear.

It was then that he placed his other hand to the small of her back, guiding her downward, taking over, kissing her collarbone and leaning over her.

Soon their hips were grinding together, she could feel his erection, but he backed off for a moment as he tugged at her underwear just a little. His fingers skirted across the band of them, and then dipped beneath it, finding immediately the correct spot and rubbing circles.

She placed her hand on the back of his neck, gasping a little at the sensation and shuddering as it continued.

It wasn't long before his fingers were replaced by his thumb and were instead pulling through wet folds. He pressed hungrier kisses to her breast bone and inserted first one finger then another as (y/n) ran her hand through his hair and let out a sweet little moan that only encouraged him.

He moved his kisses back to her lips, enjoying every vibration from each moan that escaped them, feeling her chest heave up and down, all his doing. Especially as she closed her eyes and sunk into orgasm. He felt her clench down on him and a series of shudders run through her. He smiled as he kissed her and only pulled away when she was done.

She breathed out and the look on her face was like a dream, glossy eyed and wet lipped.

She looked up at him, and there was an ecstasy in his eyes already. She pulled him back in, nibbling at his jaw line as he withdrew his hand and unbuttoned his pants with it- she helped him pull at them as they shared a shaky, giggling laugh and a smile. She brushed his hair from his face where a few strands had fallen, and pushed his glasses back up his nose- neither of them bothered about removing them.

He tugged once again at her underwear, pulling them all the way down. He used one arm to steady himself and placed the other hand on her lower abomen, her dress he lifted over her head before it slipped down.

She trailed her fingers down his muscular body, admiring it as he adjusted his position a little, before locking eyes with him and fluttering her eyelashes at him. Her own hands then sat at his collar, as he entered her infatuatingly and calculatedly slowly. Each movement from then on was strategically planned to capture her in her entirety. He made her twitch and whimper and her breath hitch, he gave the occasional needy moan.

She grazed his back with her nails as tension built in them both, she twitched her hips in just the right way and pressed her forehead into the crook of his neck- making him move his hand to the back of her head, tangling in her hair and then trailing down her neck, feeling every shiver and movement she made.

"You're something special-" He whispered, turning his head slightly and kissing her temple. "My god- you're something special." He spoke again against her skin- his voice shaking and his breath warm. Hot release enveloped his mind and gasped a tight and rasping moan.

"Bobby-" Was all the words she could breathe out before she was rocked, the sensation traveling through her body, heat radiating from her core and shaking her.

He lay down beside her, an arm still firmly around her, and they both lay dazed for a moment. A smile grew on her face and she let her head lay limp on his shoulder.

Tears slipped down her face after a moment, which Bob noticed as they dribbled hot and onto his skin. The hormones that flooded her body, ravaged her emotions.

Immediately he was alarmed, turning his head to see her and cupping her cheek in his hand.

"Are you alright?" He asked quickly, his eyes shining with concern and his lips pressed into a line. She nodded and laughed, placing her hand on his. Still he was worried he'd done wrong. "You're sure?" He asked again.

"Yes-" She spoke nodding, sitting up and wiping her eyes with shaking hands.

He did the same and pulled the flight jacket they'd been layed on back over her shoulders so she wouldn't be quite so exposed, as he did she leant into his chest.

He put his arms around her and breathed slowly. She let her arms snake around him and nodded again. She sighed and matched the pace of his breathing.

They stay like that for a few minutes before she pulled away and looked up at him. They shared a glad smile and curled into eachother. She looked up at the stars slowly emerging in the darkening sky.

When neither of them showed up until the morning, the Lieutenant was in severe trouble for missing curfew and technically going AWOL.

(Y/n) pulled in some favours and got him off the hook and could only laugh at the parallells of it all.

It was that moment that she decided she must have been in love.

---------------------------

TAGLIST:

@thespeeder @fangirlinc @inglourious-imagines @gh0strr @idfkwhyimhere4357 @dempy @luckyladycreator2 @fantasias-creativebubble @tipsykeen @daughterofthereaper02 @mg1327

960 notes · View notes