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hotvintagepoll · 20 days

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Propaganda

Julie Andrews (The Sound of Music, Mary Poppins)—Oh where to start .... I'm not sure I even know how. She's just perfection. And it's not fair I can't bring post 70s work into this, because she just gets better and better, and her drag performance in to die for. But in the era I CAN talk about, she shows she has THE RANGE. Beautiful, feisty, funny, holding her own against Christopher Plummer, Paul Newman, Rock Hudson. Oh she's luminous.

Nadira (Shree 420, Dil Apna Aur Preet Parai)— She had a blast playing the femme fatal in Indian films in the 50s. Also the costumes she wore in Shree 420 are absolutely iconic. It's important to mention that she was Jewish. She was born Farhad "Florence" Ezekiel in Baghdad to an Iraqi Jewish family. They moved to India sometime in the 1940s. The funny thing is that she originally wanted to convert to Catholicism and become a nun but joined the film industry instead as her family desperately needed money. Even though she was unfortunately typecast in femme fatale roles after playing the nightclub entertainer Maya in Shree 420, she always gave 110% to every role she was cast in. Apparently she acted in a German film as well? She was also one of the most highly paid actresses in the Indian film industry and was one of the few Indians to own a Rolls Royce.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Julie Andrews propaganda:

"She has such a simple but amazing beauty to her. Not to mention her amazing and melodic singing voice!"

"Roles like nannies and governesses can make us forget how attractive she was! A perfect combination of elegant and adorable, with the most incredible vocal range to boot!"

"Besides having one of the most amazing singing voices ever to grace the silver screen, Julie always had an understated beauty to her that wasn't always shown off on screen. But it's there nonetheless because her characters managed to pull some of the hottest men ever to grace the screen."

"The juxtaposition between carefree Maria and stern but fun Mary Poppins shows the power of the acting of this HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMAN"

"Charming, genteel, incredibly charismatic, beautiful, and has an angelic singing voice to boot. Her screen roles as Maria in The Sound of Music and Mary Poppins are absolutely iconic for a reason and she originated several well-known Broadway roles before those."

"the most beautiful woman 12 year old me had ever seen possibly"

"OMG OMG OMG she’s definitely been submitted before how could she NOT but!!!! I loveeee her so muchhhh rahhhh prebby!!!! cool!!!! mary poppins the beloved <33333 some people dislike it but I love jolly holiday so much because it IS a jolly holiday with Mary!!! no wonder that it’s Mary that we love!!!!!"

"I know many people who were taught in singing lessons "when in doubt, pronounce words how julie andrews would pronounce them." THATS CALLED INFLUENCE. THATS CALLED MOTHERING THOUSANDS."

Nadira:

I just submitted a whole list of golden-era Bollywood stars without whom I thought this tournament could not conscionably be considered complete BUT Nadira has got my personal vote for Hottest of the lot. She played a bunch of delicious vamp roles in her youth before graduating to being a creepy spiderlady antagonist type in middle/older age. Rare is the still in which she looks like she's NOT about to gnaw your face off. Yow!

#nadira #julie andrews #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 3

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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prompt from @teaspelledbackwards-blog: something featuring sick Steve being taken care of. prompt guidelines

It’s almost like a culture shock, adjusting to normality after everything is over: to not have to leap in front of others with arms outstretched, his whole body tightly coiled; to not have to always be ready to fight.

And most of all, to no longer need to worry about the big, life-threatening things. Even back then, Steve felt like he’d had a lucky escape compared to everything else they were dealing with—sure his bites still stung, but they were only in borderline need of medical attention.

“Borderline?” Eddie had wheezed through the high of morphine when Steve relayed this. “God help us for what your ‘real emergency’ looks like, Harrington.”

So when it’s just a run-of-the-mill day, and Steve’s head is pounding, but it’s not that bad, he powers through. It’s not like it’s pneumonia or anything; it’s not like he’s dying. It just mildly sucks. Well. Maybe more than mildly, but the point still stands.

He doesn’t really think anything of it, until suddenly Robin is pinning him with a shrewd look right in the middle of their shift, eyes briefly narrowing in a way that kinda reminds him of Mary Poppins—if she’d thrown away the nanny career in favour of putting ‘new in’ stickers on VHS titles.

“Let’s swap,” she says authoritatively. “You take your break now, I’ll take mine later, then I can do the closing shift instead.”

“Um, sure, if you—why?”

“You don’t know all the intricacies of my life, Steve! Maybe I need an empty store to practise for my secret opera star dreams. Maybe I’m having a clandestine affair by the light of the shitty computer. Don’t question me.”

She whirls him round and gently taps in between his shoulder blades, pushing him in the direction of the backroom.

He snorts. “All right, all right.”

It’s only when he’s actually stretching out on the threadbare couch that he realises she’d gotten him to distractedly agree while she joked around.

Then it’s like he blinks, and he sleeps right through his thirty minute break. It’s technically forty five minutes by the time he wakes and gets up. He pushes his knuckle briefly against the bridge of his nose as he heads back to the counter, but the ache still remains.

Robin doesn’t make one crack about Steve’s break running over. She doesn’t even take her own break until there’s no-one in the store, dealing with any of their especially annoying customers herself, including that old man who always insists on having a tangential rant about “kids these days.”

(She’d slid a note over to him halfway through said rant, a scribble in Pig Latin: ‘illkay emay.’ Ducking under the counter to stifle his laughter was a nice temporary distraction from his headache.)

When she does come back from her break, she tosses Steve his jacket and car keys.

Steve stops by the half-open door, stares her down. “Are you sure? I can—”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh my god, go. The literal only plan I had was watching a rerun of Headline Chasers with my dad.”

“But.” He clears his throat, and Robin’s grinning, he knows she’s only teasing, and yet… “But you love Headline Chasers.”

She softens, then sticks out her tongue before replying, “I know.”

And it sounds like I love you more, dingus.

He plans to drive straight home, but then he sees Dustin biking into the parking lot, and he stops mid-reverse, winding down his window.

“Thought you were closing?” Dustin says.

“Yeah, I was. Robin swapped with me.”

Dustin hops off his bike, looks Steve up and down. “If I’m, like, five minutes, could you give me a ride home?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. He can count the number of times Dustin’s actually asked that on one hand, used to finding him already in the passenger seat, waiting expectantly.

He shrugs. “Sure. I’ll fit your bike in the trunk.”

True to his word, Dustin is in and out of Family Video in barely even three minutes. Steve smiles when he spots that he’s rented out The NeverEnding Story again.

“Dude, just buy it at this point.”

“But then I won’t get the excellent customer service on offer, Steve.”

“What, Robin insulting you?”

It’s an unusually quiet but not unpleasant car ride. Steve doesn’t risk putting the radio on, the pain travelling until it’s a persistent band of pressure across his forehead, and Dustin, strangely enough, doesn’t complain about the lack of music.

By the time he pulls up to Dustin’s house, it feels like his bones are aching, his skin prickling and sensitive. He tries to suppress a wince as he parks, briefly rubs at one eye.

“Hey, Dustin, do you mind if I don’t—” He falters, not sure how to politely put, Normally I love chatting with your mom, but if I delay getting home any longer, I might scream.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dustin says, already getting out of the car. “Stay there, just a sec!”

And instead of slamming the door as per usual, he gently closes it.

Steve only just resists leaning his head on the steering wheel.

Then Dustin is running out of the house, carrying… Tupperware?

“Mom was baking,” he says when Steve rolls down the window again.

“Oh,” Steve says, taking the box, glancing down to see some chocolate cake. “Thanks, man. I should, uh.” He makes to undo his seatbelt, but Dustin waves him off.

“You’ve thanked her, like, a bunch of times, if you do it anymore she’s gonna ask why I’m not a gentleman like you.”

Before Steve can respond, Dustin’s already at his front door, waving as he shuts it and calling out a casual, “Feel better, Steve!”

But how do you…?

Steve knows that Eddie’s in his house by the way that the front mat has been left curled up at the corner from where he’s retrieved the spare key.

He opens the door, sighs in relief at the warmth hitting his skin; Eddie must’ve put the heating on.

“You’re being robbed!” is what he’s greeted with, and Steve chuckles, follows Eddie’s voice to the kitchen, and…

He stops in the doorway.

“You made me dinner,” he says, almost numbly.

Eddie looks over at him from where he’s boiling water on the stove, a jar of pasta sauce by his elbow.

“That’s a kind word for it, but okay.”

“You made me dinner,” Steve repeats, and he has to blink rapidly before he does something stupid like tear up. “Why are you even—did we have plans? Did I forget—”

Eddie smiles warmly at him. “Nah, just passing through,” he says, then laughs when Steve tilts his head, unconvinced. “All right, fine. I might have got a phone call. Actually, two: Buckley got there first, and then Henderson called, gave me shit about the line being engaged, he’s so—”

“You didn’t need to make me dinner,” Steve interrupts. He doesn’t exactly know why it’s this that he’s getting stuck on, but he can’t help it. “I could’ve made dinner.”

Eddie’s smile shifts, turns into something so obviously caring that Steve feels his eyes threaten to burn all over again.

“But I wanted to,” he says. He leans against the counter, eyes flickering over Steve’s face, a gentle kind of surveying. “Besides, you’re not feeling great, right?”

“It’s nothing,” Steve says automatically. “Seriously, I don’t even have a fever. It’s not like I need to go to the doctors or…”

He trails off as Eddie gets closer, kisses him softly on the mouth, then the temple; and there must be a salve on his lips or something, because the awful sensitivity on Steve’s skin feels, just for a moment, like it’s been soothed away.

“Doesn’t need to be the worst thing ever for it to matter, Steve,” Eddie says simply.

Steve affects a huff—Eddie’s always coming out with lines just like that, says it’s the DM’s curse, darling—but he melts against Eddie anyway.

“You use the bow tie shapes?”

Eddie grins, nods triumphantly down at the pot. “Only the very best for you.”

Steve smiles into Eddie’s shoulder. “Dork.”

Tonight he’ll lie on the couch after dinner, Eddie reading with the lamp on low so that it doesn’t hurt his head; will drift off thinking of him, of Robin, of Dustin—knowing that the world doesn’t need to be ending for them to care.

#loved doing the slice of life vibes in this ❤️#loveinhawkins takes prompts #steve harrington fic #steve and robin #steve and dustin #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #eddie and robin #eddie and dustin #steve harrington #robin buckley #dustin henderson #eddie munson

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xhollandlilsx · 1 year

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Red Card - (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Concept- Leah and Y/N have been broken up for months, but things kick off when Leah gets jealous during the game against Y/Ns team.

Warnings - Injuries.

People, break up and makeup.

They fallout, fix it, kiss and carry on. But for Leah and I, we had done that for the last time. We ended things for good a little over 3 months ago, agreeing that we couldn’t keep on the way we were. The constant arguing, the overprotection from Leah and towards the end the lack of trust.

After my signing for Manchester United, after being the top goal scorer in the league, that’s when everything started to go downhill, fans would release photos of Alessia and I, saying how cute of a couple we would be, or fake stories about how a ‘close source’ had admitted we were seeing eachother, despite Leah and I being open about our relationship. It all got too much for the two of us, so I travelled down to London, and we both came to a decision.

It took me over a month to feel a little bit like myself again, Lucy was my saving grace throughout, I had been friends with her since our parents used to go on holidays and we’d find any grass we could and kick the ball back and forth, showing off. She FaceTimed me nearly every day, and forced me to get up.

**********

“You got everything in that bag, Mary Poppins?” Ella asked as I walked over toward where some of the girls were waiting outside the coach, I let a smirk cross my face and patted the duffel bag I had on my shoulder.

“Alright, leave my bag alone. I like to be prepared for anything.” I replied with a shrug and stuffing my hands in my pockets.

“What, like a natural disaster? You got a lifetime of food in there?” She laughed slightly as I raised my middle and index finger, telling her to fuck off.

“We all ready?” Marc asked holding a clipboard and looking over all of us like we were kids on a school trip.

“Are you ready?” Ona asked, whispering slightly to me as she was stood behind me, I knew why she’d asked, because of who we were travelling to play. Arsenal.

I smiled a thin lipped smile before following Tooney onto the coach, sitting next to her as Alessia and Mary sat the other side. I tried to drown out the thoughts that were now flooding my mind, and the anxiety that made me feel sick at the thought of even seeing her face again.

I threw my headphones in and threw my pre game playlist on, it mostly consisted of rock, rage against the machine, AC/DC, Def Leppard so on and so forth.

I crossed my arms over my chest and closed my eyes, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone so they’d start a conversation.

*********

The 4 hour coach journey wasn’t too bad, I’d managed to somewhat calm my nerves, doing some affirmations, repeating to myself that I’m Y/N fucking Y/L/N. What have I got to be nervous about?

The coach pulled up in the carpark and I could see fans waiting behind the fences next to us, my eyes scanned them as I saw a fair amount of United shirts, I smiled and waved before walking over, something we weren’t supposed to do, but I hated the fact they’d waited there for us and nobody’s going over.

They all near screamed when I went over, I smiled and shook a few hands, saying a few hi’s, taking photos and signing one persons shirt. One of the Arsenal security men did come over and try to usher me inside faster.

“You’re such a softy for fans” Ella smiled slightly as she sat on the bench in the changing rooms putting her shin pads and socks on. I kept my puffer jacket on, the badge still over my heart, and my joggers with my initials and number 11 on them. I threw my shins on under my joggers and threw my socks and spare boots on. I rolled my socks right down so they were bunched around my ankles and tied my laces.

“Well I don’t like ignoring them. They came all this way to support us. And waited, it’s cold Ella” I laughed slightly before standing up and pulling the shorter girl with me. I wasn’t too tall, sitting at 5’7, which was a good average compared to some.

“In all seriousness, you ready?” She asked as we walked out of the tunnel toward the other end of the pitch to warm up both carrying our bottles. The Arsenal players were already out here warming up on the opposite side. It took everything in me not to look over, to look for her. I restrained myself, knowing eventually I’d have to see her, being a forward, but as of now, I need to pretend she’s not there. Keep my focus.

“I’m fine El. Grab a ball.” I nodded to her as Alessia walked over too, the three of us throwing our bottle off to the side while we waited for the rest of our team to come out and for one of the trainers.

We started kicking it in a triangle, talking as the stand filled up, I threw my hands in my pockets of my coat as I could feel them starting to freeze, only taking them out to smooth out my hair, my well known two braids into a bun.

“Okay girls, two lines behind the cones” We warmed up, all just taking the piss out of eachother, usual banter for us, before heading back inside the tunnel and to the changing room.

**********

We got into position after Marc announced the starting eleven. As usual I was upfront, we had kick off so I stood with the ball at my feet, my arms freezing off, but knowing I’d warm up after a while, as I love running laps around players.

The whistle blew and the game was off, I passed to Katie, who held it and waited for the Arsenal players to get stuck in. I found myself stood next to Laura, as I nudged her playfully, I had played for Arsenal for years, they were still like a family to me, and I stayed good friends with a few of them, especially Beth and Viv, it was difficult for them not to ask Leah and I about eachother but they tried their best.

“Ella. Ella!” I shouted to her as we were waiting for McCabe to take the throw in, my voice carrying, and harsh, I always sounded angry and authorative, the winger looked at me as I motioned for her to fall back slightly, to which she did, but when the throw in was taken she threw it to Viv who was unmarked, someone who should’ve been picked up by a defender, “Hey where were we?!”

I watched as Ona dealt with it and passed to Ella who carried it as far as she could up the pitch, before passing to me as I was running with her, I wasn’t vain or anything but I knew I was faster than any of the defenders at Arsenal, I was a fast runner to say the least.

I began to dribble forward towards where Zinsberger was waiting with open arms, when I saw a flash of red in the corner of my eye, and a slide tackle came at me, I knew exactly who it was, so when I saw her about to go down for it, I chipped the ball up and jumped forward over her, fast thinking, the thinking that got me nominated for a fair amount of awards. Once clear of her I kicked the ball into the top left corner, only cheering once I knew it had hit the net.

I felt Alessia run over and jump on my back, she had been running with me the entire time, just marked. I smiled and cheered as the fans erupted. I set her down as Tooney came running over and high fived me. I ran back into position high fiving a few of my team on the way, my eyes wandering to her, she looked like she was trying to hide her anger, as she walked back into her position, wiping her mouth on her sleeve. I still felt that anxious feeling but it wasn’t so bad anymore. She was staring at where Alessia’s hand was still on my shoulder.

My heart hurt though, regardless of what happened when we were together or how long we’ve been apart, I still loved her. My heart beat for that girl. That was until the 86th minute, when that flash of red took me off my feet in one of the dirtiest tackles I’d ever seen. Leah could be quite aggressive at times, but I never thought she’d pull something like this, no matter how angry she was.

I felt the air get knocked out of me as I rolled onto my back trying to breathe. Searing pain coming from my side, I felt someone land at my side, Alessia. I was slightly panicking. I had been winded before but never like this. I glanced at the blonde defender once where she stood with wide eyes and a hand over her mouth, not realising what she’d just done in blind rage.

The ref called for the medics as a few of the Arsenal players pulled Leah away and were all shocked at her behaviour. I covered my face with my arm as I tried to take at least one breath that wasn’t cut short.

“Y/N, I’m just gonna lift your shirt is that okay?“ The medic asked as she crouched down beside me, I nodded still not being able to speak, and gripping Alessia’s hand for dear life.

They pulled my shirt up their knuckle grazing my side ever so slightly making me let out a strangled yell, catching the attention of most players on the pitch, everyone looking over wanting to know what the damage was.

“Yeah..” The medic sighed, before waving the others over and signalling for them to get the stretcher. I couldn’t move my torso at the moment, my eyes watered knowing I’d be out for a while, as I let my head fall to the side seeing Leah stood there wiping her eyes, pushing anyone away who tried to touch her.

*********

“Knock knock” I heard someone announce before walking in, it was Ella, she stood there with a sympathetic smile and a bunch of flowers. I smiled and shook my head, “I’ve come take you home”

“Thankyou” I nodded sitting up, hissing in pain, and reaching for my shirt, seeing as though I was just in a sports bra and a big patch of gauze and tape on the right side of my torso. I could see some of the immediate bruising peeking over the top of it.

“How you feeling?” She asked as I stood up from the bed, holding my shirt in my hand.

“Like my ex just fractured two of my ribs.” I sighed with a slight smile, if I didn’t laugh I’d cry.

“Yeah, that was behind anything I’d seen before Y/N/N.” She shrugged, as another knock came from the door and Ella opened it, her face falling as she nodded for the blonde to come in.

“You’ve got some nerve” I shook my head as Ella slipped out of the room without another word obviously not wanting to be in the middle.

“I know, Y/N I’m so sorry I-“

“Sorry ain’t fixing this Leah. Sorry was when you’d accuse me of sleeping with Alessia. Sorry was when you’d call me when angry and drunk at 3am, this isn’t sorry Leah.” I shook my head as she looked down at my torso, where the abs I was so proud of were slightly covered. Her face going pale at the sight of the gauze.

“I know… I messed up, I did and I don’t know how I can fix it.”

“You can’t.” I reached for my shirt and pulled it on wincing and trying to control my breathing while pulling it down, I let out a sigh as she looked down, before looking out the window at the street lights, the time sitting at around 11pm, “I can’t play for 6 weeks.”

My eyes watered, as her face contorted into a look of pain and guilt as she looked away closing her eyes, she knew how much football meant to me. I lived and breathed it.

“I can’t play, and it’s your fault Leah. My god, you know I wanted to talk to you after the game. To tell you, I don’t even know what I wanted to tell you anymore. But now? Leah, in the past 4 months you’ve taken away the only two things my heart beats for…”

“Two?”

“Just go” I shook my head and turned away from her, I heard some shuffling and a pause before, the door opened and closed, allowing me to finally let the tears flow.

Part 2?

#leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #arsenal women #manchester united women #ella toone #alessia russo #ona batlle #imagine #football #wlw imagine #lgbtq #wlw love #lgbtlove

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vergess · 2 years

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It may be worse for others; but for him and you there is no dread. He is a noble fellow; and let me tell you from experience of men, that one who would do as he did in going down that wall and to that room—ay, and going a second time—is not one to be injured in permanence by a shock. His brain and his heart are all right; this I swear, before I have even seen him; so be at rest.

This is another one of those weird fucking instances where Bram Stoker got to the "right" answer in the wrongest conceivable way.

The argument Van Helsing is making here is that Jonathan is too strong of character to be permanently traumatized.

Obviously that is not how PTSD works,

I'm not going to pretend otherwise, so be at ease, my friend.

Generally speaking, when PTSD alters your brain structure, those changes are permanent, or long enough lasting that they may as well be. However, as anyone who has undergone half-decent post-traumatic care can attest, the debilitating symptoms of PTSD can ease over time as you learn how better to avoid, control, and recover from triggers, and develop better coping skills.

One common (though far from universal) predictor of how severely an event will traumatize a person is related to autonomy. The freedom and ability to make your own choices. The less autonomy a person is able to exercise during and after an traumatic event (or, the more frequently their autonomy is overridden by the situation), the worse the trauma symptoms tend to be.

In contrast, a lot of early therapeutic steps in treating PTSD involve reclaiming autonomy. This looks different for different people, because it obviously has to be individualized. But, common examples of exercising autonomy after trauma include re-framing the trauma through art (writing, reading, painting, whatever) so that the victim can, in a sense, control the "story" of the traumatic event even though they could not control the event itself.

By sheer coincidence, Jonathan Harker has lucked into probably the best case scenario.

His autonomy during his imprisonment was constantly degraded in tiny and massive ways, from controlled sleep schedule changes to forced denial of grooming habits straight up through undressing and implied penetration without consent.

However, he persisted in making decisions and carrying them out, even in spite of these controls. And eventually one of those decisions saved his life. This can easily be turned into a coping skill. He seems not to have lost the ability to make decisions for himself, thus "that step" (as it were) can be "skipped." And since the "steps" had not been invented yet, that definitely puts Jonathan in a better position for recovery.

But let's loop back around to therapies for trauma. Jonathan also happens to have taken a critical step in enforcing his autonomy post-event, too. By entrusting Mina with his journal, he made the conscious decision to let her be his guide. That too is a type of reclamation of autonomy over the story of his trauma. Yes, it means he isn't "making the decisions" himself, but that is a choice he made and is continuing to make each day, safe in the knowledge that if he changes his mind, Mina will still trust him.

That right there combines both autonomy and stability, which also enable one to learn PTSD skills more quickly.

Combine that with the fact that his wife is probably the most competent caretaker short of Mary Poppins and you have a basically ideal candidate for recovery.

Not in any way because of the weird shit V.H. was saying. Just as a coincidence.

And I think to some degree, Stoker likely recognized that pattern, because it plays out pretty regularly in real life. Just, he blamed it on "inherent moral fortitude" rather than "the external support offered to middle-to-upper-class men is so robust and the freedom of choice offered to them so complete that a man in Jonathan's position is simply much more likely to recover than any working class or otherwise marginalized person in this situation."

(Surprise! It was a post about classism all along!)

#automatic op tag #Bram Stoker and PTSD #Dracula #Dracula Daily

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bathomet-writes · 1 year

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siblings!!

summary: When Mutation Day rolls around, you take it upon yourself as the youngest turtle sibling to get all your brothers the perfect gifts tailored to each and every one of them!

relationship: Platonic Turtles x F!Turtle Reader

warnings: platonic, fluff, humor, headcanons

author's note: for @/snipersiniora!! 💕

As the lesser known and youngest teenage mutant ninja turtle, there wasn't much expected of you. It annoyed you to no end. Not that your family looked down on you necessarily, they just didn’t think you were very…skilled.

“Just let us handle it!” Raph would say.

“Don’t sweat so much about tonight’s mission.” Leo smirked, ruffling the top of your head.

Mikey and Donnie were a little less condescending than the others, but they still treated you like the littlest. Which you were, but it was still infuriating. It didn’t really help that you were a bit of an outlier among your family as the lone female turtle.

You sigh, spinning around your tactical umbrella.

“Maybe it’s my weapon? I do kinda look like Mary Poppins with this thing.” You frown.

It was a relatively normal-looking umbrella, but there was a hidden sword sheathed into the handle. It was always fun seeing the look on your enemy’s faces when you revealed just how secretly deadly it was. They immediately underestimated you, making unconscious assumptions.

Shaking your head, you focus up. You didn’t have time to mope around thinking about yourself, not when you had birthday gifts to find! Well, Mutation Day gifts. You had everything all planned out, taking the time to come up with the perfect gift ideas for all your pesky older brothers. They really didn’t deserve such excellent treatment, but you were the bigger turtle.

You honestly loved giving people gifts. It made you happy seeing other people happy. Maybe you were secretly a little selfish, getting some sick kick out of going above and beyond with your gift-giving. Maybe now was your chance to one-up your siblings, at least in a small, friendly way.

“Let’s do this!” You drop off of the rooftop you were perched on, dropping down to the city below.

mikey:

You knew Mikey was still a big fan of Meat Sweats

For some reason...

You never really got him, even though you and Mikey were kind of the un-official 'younger twins'

To the uninformed observer, you two looked and acted practically exactly the same

You were both pretty upbeat, caring, and prone to wild acts of gymnastics

But you had a bit more of a stubborn personality

Not stubborn, just determined!

It was your determination that was going to get you Mikey's gift

After some cursory online research, you were able to find Rupert Swaggart's cookbook/autobiography

That probably would have been a good enough gift, but you wanted to go a step further

It takes a bit of cajoling (maybe a little physical violence) but you manage to hunt down Meat Sweats and get him to sign your copy of his book

leo:

Gift giving for Leo was pretty straightforward

As long as it had something to do with him, it'd be perfect

He never shut up about the fact that he was a Battle Nexus Champion, so you figure something to do with that would be the way to go

...Now, all you had to do was think of what that would be exactly

An award perhaps? Maybe an old bowling trophy with his name plastered on the front

Good, but you could do better

Strolling through the Hidden City, you searched around for some kind of inspiration

There were dozens of vendors and booths selling trinkets, it was practically a treasure trove of gift ideas

It was when you pass by an alley when you see it...

Among the sea of torn-up flyers and advertisements, you spot a poster with Leo's likeness

Running toward it, you get a better look

It's some kind of fan-made screen print! It showed Leo standing confidently in the middle of a battlefield, Lou Jitsu costume and all

It actually made him look good, like a real badass

You couldn't pass up such a beautiful piece of art

Ripping it off the wall, you accidentally tear the left corner a bit

"Whoops..." You sweat, rubbing at the thin paper

Oh well, it would just have to do

donnie:

Donatello had many 'eccentric' hobbies

One of which was chemistry (AKA building weapons of mass destruction)

You knew Donnie was itching to get his grubby little hands on some Uranium, but you wrote that gift idea off immediately

"Where do you even buy something like that? The army surplus store? The black market?"

You decide to consult your sort-of-dad Baron Draxum, he had all kinds of crazy connections

Begrudgingly, he admits that he might...have access to Uranium

"I only have a little bit. It's well within my rights." He insists

After a while, you convince him to 'let you borrow' some

You wrap it up in a cute gift box with a nice ribbon

No one would suspect that there's dangerous chemicals in it! It looked so cute and unassuming!

You sneak into Donnie's lab while he's out on a mission and place it on his desk next to his computer set-up

You knew someone (probably Raph) would confiscate it from him at some point, but it was the thought that counts

raph:

Thankfully, you already had the perfect thing to give to Raph

It was a couple of weeks ago...

You frequented a local antique store, it was fun looking at all the weird human artifacts and knick knacks

One day, you just so happen to come across a Ghost Bear plush!

And it was HUGE! Almost as big as your head!

It must have been some old merch from when he was still human by the looks of it

Looking at the price tag, you cringe

"Ooohhh, that's...that's a pretty penny."

Silently, you debate with yourself

You knew Raph loved Ghost Bear, and plushes...

You would just have to ask Splinter for a little extra allowance next month

Cleaning out your wallet, you buy it

"That guy owes me big time." You smirk

Finally, you get all your gifts (minus Donnie's) together and present them on Mutation Day. To no one's surprise, your gifts are all happily accepted.

Mikey sniffled, bringing you into a tight hug. "I have Meat Sweats' autograph! He actually touched this book, with his own two hooves!"

Leo was rendered speechless, unrolling the Battle Nexus Poster. You chuckle, taking his silence as your proof that you gave him exactly what he was looking for.

"Don't worry, I already gave you your gift," you whisper, winking at Donnie.

You give each other secretive nods, but not before Raph makes a mental note to check up on Donnie later. You two were always up to no good.

He almost gets lost in his own thoughts before you nudge Raph his present.

"Here! I saw this and knew you just had to have it."

"Aww, you didn't have to--" He smiles, tearing open the wrapping.

Once he sees the plush face of Ghost Bear looking back at him, Raph immediately gets choked up. His eyes widen and start to water, bringing the plush up to eye-level.

"How did you find this? I thought they were all discontinued!"

Laughing, you do a little spin on your toes. "I knew it, I knew you'd love it! I found it at the pawn shop up top.

Before Raph can get too emotional, he collects himself and calls the rest of the turtles over.

"These are all amazing, and all we got you was..."

You peek over his shoulder as he motions over to the center of the lair. Sitting next to the skate ramp and workout equipment was some kind of long bench. When did that get there?

Walking over, you get a better look. It was, from what you can tell, an old gymnastics bar used for balancing.

You run your fingers along the side and marvel at it. "Is this for me?"

"Well, duh!" Leo smiles. "We tried finding one of those asymmetrical bar things for you to flip off of and stuff, but we sorta--"

"Donnie broke it moving it down here." Mikey cut in, eyeing Donnie up and down.

Sighing, Donnie shoves Mikey aside. "I told you to pivot, and you didn't pivot!"

Shushing his other brothers, Raph steps forward. "The point it is: We know we can be kinda a handful, and you don't always get the same treatment. But, we wanted to do something nice for you."

You beam, watching them come in to squeeze you into a big group hug. You agree, they could be a lot sometimes. But, they were your family. And you wouldn't trade them for anything.

"You guys are the best!"

taglist: @saspas-corner

#rottmnt x reader #tmnt x reader #sfw #mikey x reader #michelangelo x reader #rottmnt mikey x reader #leo x reader #leonardo x reader #rottmnt leo x reader #donnie x reader #donatello x reader #rottmnt donnie x reader #raph x reader #raphael x reader #rottmnt raph x reader #requests #headcanons

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queerpumpkinnn · 7 months

Note

Hi can you write a Robin Buckley x reader fic, where Robin and reader were each other's first kiss (they didn't tell anyone)and now are partner for a science project. At first they dont realize who each other are, but once they realize it it's awkward, eventually reader asks Robin if she wants to go on a date and Robin says yes

Of course! I fell in love with this idea as soon as I read it, I love Robin with my whole heart and I hope I did her justice.

we fell in love in october

1.8k words

Summary: The cute girl in your science class has a first kiss story that's strikingly similar to yours.

Pairing: Robin Buckley x reader

Warnings: None, but let me know if there should be!

You didn't think anything of it at first. But then again, that's usually how these things go.

When you stepped into class on the first day of school, taking the first empty desk you saw, you didn't think it would ever make a difference. You didn't think you'd even spare your seatmate a second glance, planning to daydream through the entire period.

But the more you sat near her, noticed her in your peripheral, you found yourself leaning back to get a better look- still trying to be as subtle as possible. She was leaned back in her seat, legs spread open in a manner that would earn a side-eye from most parents, right leg tapping furiously. Her arms were folded comfortably over her middle, and she was chewing on her lip. Her eyes darted towards you, and she gave you a shy wave.

Shit. You hadn't realized in your curiosity that you'd actually turned your head all the way and were now staring at her. You ducked your head, giving an embarrassed 'hi'.

Robin seemed to be opening her mouth to say something, but it snapped shut when the teacher, with a very dinosaur-like face and cat-eye glasses, cleared her throat in a shrill and exaggerated manner. She began calling out names, and you let out a quiet breath.

You were now hypervigilant about how often you glanced at her, cheeks warming every time she caught your gaze. It wasn't panic that flared up in your stomach, but you weren't sure what else to name it. Excitement, perhaps?

"Buckley, Robin."

"Here!" Your seatmate raised her hand, and upon further inspection, you noted the chipped black paint on her nails. Her fingers and wrist were adorned with silver jewelry. It waved, and shit.

She caught you again. Your head whipped back towards the front, and you could have sworn you heard a quiet laugh.

. . .

"Today's the day, Pop."

Your head fell back, a groan paving the way for an exhausted laugh.

Robin had given you the nickname Pop a month into school, after she'd made a comment that you, like Mary Poppins, were "practically perfect in every way". You'd laughed it off and rolled your eyes, spending the rest of the day desperately praying nobody asked why you were smiling to yourself.

It was October now, temperature dropping rapidly and making way for snow season. So every time Robin trudged into class her cheeks and nose were tinged pink, making your staring problem- which Robin had long since told you she picked up on and teased you for- much worse.

"Don't remind me." You sighed, grinning.

"Wonder how she'll do it." Robin scooted her chair in, folding her arms over the desk and resting her chin on them. "Arrange partners, I mean."

You shrugged. "I just hope I don't get stuck with Carol."

"Ooh, yeah. You'll get stuck doing the entire project." Robin agreed.

"Hem hem!" You winced at the sound. Robin snickered, hiding her face in the crook of her arms to stifle the noise.

The teacher droned on and on about what you assumed was the relevance of the project, how it would impact your grade, and how she would be grading it. You didn't hear, Robin was making faces to mimic your fossil of a teacher.

"You'll be working with your seatmates, and no, there'll be no exceptions."

Your ears perked at that. You and Robin looked at each other in sync.

Robin's face, though it was excited, had a strange undertone of shock. Like she'd just realized something; what it was you had no clue.

"Guess you didn't get Carol after all." Robin smiled, but it didn't quite meet her eyes. She looked a little panicked, actually.

"Thank God." You rolled your eyes, then glanced at the clock. "There's no way we're going to get this done by Monday."

Robin was looking over the material. "Yeah, definitely not."

"We're gonna have to meet up over the weekend, when works for you?"

Robin looked up abruptly. "Sunday," she blurted out after a second.

Sunday.

. . .

You shouldn't have spent as much time as you did standing in front of your mirror, glancing at the clock and then back at your hair.

You'd spent the entire morning cleaning your house, checking and re-checking if your room looked appropriate for company. You had your books and papers laid out neatly over your comforter, finding nothing else and everything to fuss over.

When the doorbell rang, you leapt from your seat, nearly slipping on the hardwood floor as you scrambled.

When you opened the door, Robin gave you a wave. That same awkward wave she'd given you on the first day of school. Your heart fluttered.

"Brought us a little pick-me-up." She held up a plastic bag in the other hand.

"You're a lifesaver." You stepped aside to let her in, blinking at the proximity as she passed you. She was actually in your house. You thought you might shit yourself.

You led her to your room, sitting awkwardly on your bed as she stood looking around, taking short steps as she took in your posters and pictures and furniture. You watched her, trying to gauge a reaction. Did she think your wallpaper color was immature? Was there dust on a picture frame you'd forgotten to swipe off?

When she glanced over at you, you expected her to make a joke but instead she winked.

You certainly weren't expecting that.

Robin laughed at your stunned reaction, sitting down next to you. "Sorry Pop, force of habit." Her head was ducked, curtained by chestnut hair. She ruffled it, tsking.

You cleared your throat, reaching for the plastic bag she'd left on the nightstand. "So, what'd you get?"

It turned out Robin had gotten coffees. While you sipped yours happily while you worked, you noticed Robin pursing her lips and scrunching her nose every time she took a sip. You wondered why she got coffee if she didn't like it, but didn't press.

Speaking of work, you made very slow progress. Your conversation went off topic a few too many times, too busy laughing and too engaged in stories to work and talk simultaneously. At some point you'd abandoned the project completely, lying side by side on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

"So you've never had your first kiss?"

You frowned. What's so bad about that?

She caught on immediately, shaking her hands. "Not that that's a bad thing! It's just, you're really pretty, so that's a little hard to believe, you don't just have guys lining up?"

You were fidgeting with your fingers. "Technically... okay, you cannot tell anyone."

Robin rolled over on her stomach, chin resting in her palm.

"When I was little, probably seven or eight, I made friends with this girl at the park. I didn't know her, I don't even remember her name, but she was really nice. She had so many band-aids on her legs, and she wore this old baseball cap with a smiley face on it. Anyways, us being dumb little kids, we kissed under the slide. It was more of a peck, really, and she ran away as soon as we did it. I never saw her again. But anyway, I don't know if I really count that as a first kiss, because I was so young and it obviously wasn't a romantic thing.."

Your voice trailed off when you noticed Robin's expression. Her jaw was hung open, and she wasn't blinking.

"Robin?" You asked, voice hushed and tense, but she didn't speak. She sat up, rigid in her movement, and walked slowly out of the bedroom, hands folded over her mouth.

The reality of what you'd just confessed hit you like a truck. You told her you'd kissed a girl. Even with how much you padded it over by saying it happened when you were young and stupid and that it meant nothing, fact was fact and if it gets told to one wrong person, it can get warped and twisted into some predatory lie and you could end up kicked out of the house and getting beat up behind grocery stores.

One minute passed. Two, three. Finally you couldn't stand the silence and hauled yourself onto your feet.

Robin was standing just outside the door, leaned against the hallway wall with her arms crossed, one hand picking at her lip. Her head jerked to look at you, cheeks paled despite the warm light from your bedroom washing over her normally honey skin.

Your hand was shaking on the doorknob, lips chapped as you opened them to speak. "I know what it sounds like-"

"You remember the hat?"

Your brows furrowed. "Huh?"

Robin shuffled past you, reaching elbow-deep into her backpack until she tugged out a tattered old snapback with a very familiar yellow stitching on the front.

Your jaw fell open. You looked, dumbfounded, between her face, equally awestruck, and the hat.

"That was you?"

Robin nodded. "That was me."

You smiled, even if only out of anxiety. "You ran away from your first kiss."

"Hey, you surprised me!" Robin threw her hands in the air. She was smiling again, ruffling her hair and shaking her head. She turned to you, who was sat back on the bed now. "Anyways, you don't even consider that a first kiss."

You shrugged. "I didn't like you then."

"But you like me now, eh Pop?"

You froze. Robin laughed, flopping back down onto the mattress. "Kidding, kidding."

But she was still chewing her lip, ducking her head down so that her hair shielded her face. You stared at her rifling through papers, resifting as though she herself didn't know what she was looking for.

"Robin."

She looked up, the most bashful you'd ever seen her.

Your body acted on its own. Your lips caught hers in a moment of reckless abandon. Briefly, before panic settled in, and you began to draw away, but a hand on the back of your neck pulled you back in.

The world around you seemed to fade, the only thing going through your racing mind was the shock of your own actions. The fact that you were actually kissing her.

When you broke the kiss, she chased after you, forehead rested against yours. Her eyes were still closed as though scared to open them, breaths held. Her hand was shaking against your skin.

When they did open, they were wide and terrified. You winked at her, and they softened, laugh lines closing around her eyelids.

The silence was deafening. She rested her face in your shoulder. It wasn't until she started giggling that she looked up.

"What's so funny?"

"I didn't run away this time." She grinned.

"Good for you, Robin." You rolled your eyes, pressing another chaste kiss to her lips.

You sat there for a moment, just staring into each other's eyes, fingers tracing over hair and jawlines. That is, until Robin jumped, clapping her hands against her thighs.

"The project! Shit, it's so late!"

Shit.

Robin Buckley Masterlist

Sapphic September Masterlist

Stranger Things Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #stranger things #robin buckley x you #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #stranger things 3 #stranger things 4 #stranger things au #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things s4

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callsignspark · 7 months

Text

Mar[r]y Me - part 8.5

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 2.3k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday! this is a short but sweet one! see here for my soft-tober announcement and here for a quick update on what's happening in the month of October! have a great weekend!

part 8.5 - McDonald's apple pie

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“I’d never dream of it!”

Mary snuggles deeper into the couch as Pierce Brosnan - her favorite James Bond - races through the streets of Ho Chi Minh City on a motorcycle with Michelle Yeoh handcuffed to his wrist. Her chest hurts; tight from an overwhelming urge to cry and a tiredness she can’t quite shake no matter how much she’s been sleeping lately.

The day had been spent with Danielle and the kids, and it had been fun. They had gone to the beach and gotten Thai food for dinner, the adults devouring pad thai while Annabeth watched Frozen again. It was nice; she loved her family, but she missed Bradley.

More than she thought she would.

They didn’t get a chance to properly say goodbye. He had received a hug and the same “be safe, see you in two months” as everyone else. There wasn’t a spare second to sneak away and kiss him goodbye; there was always someone near them the entire time.

All she could do was slip a good luck note into the palm of his hand and hug him for an extra second longer than anyone else. It was hardly anything, but he still gave her a big smile and a sneaky forehead kiss, whispering that his peanut butter bites were safely stored at the bottom of his pack.

For the millionth time since she sat with Mav in her office and they watched the carrier steam away, Mary wonders where Bradley is. Thanks to her security clearance, she knows he's floating somewhere in the Pacific, but nothing more.

Maybe he’ll come back with an even deeper tan.

Somehow, Bradley is always sort of tan, even in January. Yes, they live in California, where it’s beach weather year-round, but it’s like he was born with a built-in base layer of golden skin.

Bond is just about to magically escape from another precarious situation he’s gotten himself into when the doorbell rings. Mary peeks over the top of the couch, trying to figure out who could be at her front door. Her family is in New York, Slider went back to Pensacola last week, and the majority of people she knows in California are also in the middle of the ocean with Bradley.

The bell rings again, whoever it is knocking this time. She sighs - they’re not going away - and frees herself from her perfectly crafted blanket burrito, a poor substitution for the pair of strong arms she’s missing.

Carefully peeking through the side window, she’s surprised to find Flora standing there and quickly opens the door, a blur of red and pink taking over her vision.

“Happy birthday!” Flora yells, shoving an enormous floral arrangement in her face.

“Than- thank you?”

Mary tentatively grabs the vase, taken off guard, as Flora walks in and slips her clogs off. Dropping her huge L.L. Bean tote bag on the dining room table, Flora laughs at how Mary is frozen at the front door, flowers hiding her torso but not her confused face.

“Here, give me those, and you open this.” Flora pulls a box out of her Mary Poppins-sized bag and takes the vase back. She carefully places the arrangement on the island, fiddling with the stems so they look perfect.

“What is happening?”

“Well, your boyfriend came into my shop about three weeks ago and asked me if I would do him a favor. He was so sweet and pathetic; I couldn’t help but say yes.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Funny.” Flora hums, eyebrow arching in disbelief. “I didn’t say a name, but you knew who I was talking about.”

Mary flushes, the tips of her ears on fire as she tries to stutter out an excuse.

“It’s okay, Mary.” Flora takes pity on her. “I know it’s complicated, but let’s face it, that man would do anything for you. Which is why I’m here, on a Sunday night, with gifts.”

“Gifts?” Mary echoes. “Plural?”

“Mmhm. First up, a floral arrangement full of warm tones because “red is her favorite color, but all red would probably be overbearing” - which is a direct quote.”

“They’re beautiful, Flora.”

“He did a good job, and he deserves a reward for understanding that flowers are expensive and you can’t cheap out if you want a nice, big bouquet. Next is the box.” She slides the brown box across the table, fluffing the ribbon curls on top. “I have no idea what’s in that one.”

Mary carefully opens the ribbons tied around the box, her throat tightening when she takes the lid off. At the top is a notecard with Bradley’s handwriting.

She pulls the sweater out of the box, and her eyes start to water as she holds it up for Flora to see. It’s a light yellow, almost the same shade as the stick of butter softening on her counter, practically identical to the one sitting in her closet, a red stain still covering the front. The material is so soft she can’t help but press her face into it, tears escaping as Bradley’s cologne washes over her.

Fuck. I miss him so much.

This was anticipated; she knows how sad Dani can get during Reuben’s deployments. Knows how sad she would get when her best friend was gone for months. It’s only been two weeks, but it’s the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other. Even during the rough patch in January, they still got glimpses of each other at work. The worst part is not knowing how he’s doing. If he’s okay. She assumes he is; Mav hadn’t mentioned anything, and she’s pretty sure he would tell her.

It would be the only way she would find out. Mary isn’t naïve enough to believe that she would be a first-tier point of contact if he got hurt. They haven’t even gone on a date yet, and the only time they kissed was that day in her office.

She’s pulled out of the impending spiral by a gentle hand rubbing her shoulders, which she didn’t realize were shaking. She lets herself be comforted by Flora, the older woman pulling her into a hug, uncaring about the tears staining her shirt.

“Sorry.” Mary sniffles, pulling back after a minute to wipe her eyes. “I just really miss him, more than I thought I would.”

“It’s okay, I get it.”

“That’s right. I forgot about Jake.”

She realizes she said something wrong by the way Flora’s hand goes stiff on her back.

“Jake and I are not together.”

“Oh. He just- when we were talking, he kinda implied that the two of you were sort of seeing each other.”

“We’ve fucked a few times, we're not together.”

Mary blinks at her. Jake had never said anything about sex; he was lamenting that Flora didn’t want to see a movie he was excited about. Sad that the florist wouldn’t join him.

“Jake, I mean, I don’t know Flora very well, but I gotta say she doesn’t really seem like a zombie apocalypse kinda girl.” Mary gently soothed, trying to give equal attention to her email inbox and the mopey Texan. “Why don’t you find a movie you’ll both like?”

“I tried! She doesn’t want to go to the movies at all. I know she’s busy - like she runs a whole ass business all by herself - but it’s like she doesn’t even care that we’re gonna be gone for two months!”

“Did you tell her that you want to spend time together before you leave?”

“No. We’re just- that’s not-” Jake sighs, cut off by Mary’s phone.

They had never finished their conversation; Jake had a hop and Mary a meeting, and a few days later, he was shipping out alongside Bradley.

“Okay. I’m sorry, he didn’t mention that, so I must have misunderstood.”

“You probably didn’t.” Flora rolls her eyes. “Jake likes to talk like we’re together, but I’ve told him several times a relationship is not what I’m looking for from him.”

“Can I ask why?” She quickly backtracks when the other woman’s face scrunches up. “Oh my god, you absolutely don’t have to say anything. I wasn’t trying to push.”

“No, you’re fine. Jake is a great guy. He’s smart and funny and handsome, but we want different things in life. Things that can’t be compromised on and that I won’t ever change my mind about. So there’s really no reason for us to try anything serious. I told him that before they deployed, but I’m officially breaking it off when they’re back because I’m not sure he got the hint.”

“That makes sense; that’s probably the best way to go about it.” She nods, impressed by how strong Flora is in her conviction and a bit sad at the same time. Those two would be great.

“Sucks, though. He’s incredible in bed.”

Mary lets out a bark of laughter at the complete 180 in conversation. “That surprises me and doesn’t surprise me all at the same time.”

“It’s that atrocious arrogance of his, isn’t it?”

“Yes! An ego like that means a man is either totally overcompensating, or he knows he’s good, and he’s got the moves to prove it.”

“Oh, he’s got the moves. Believe me.” They laugh at the eyebrow wiggle that accompanies Flora’s words.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve gotta know. That ridiculous Texas accent he pulls out when he’s trying to charm someone-”

“-does he use it in bed? More frequently than you would imagine.”

“Okay… but, like, does it do it for you?”

“I plead the Fifth,” Flora says as she furiously nods.

“Stop! Wait! And the cowboy hat?”

She laughs harder, tears in her eyes as she gasps, “Both of us!”

“You’ve both worn it?!”

Flora’s confirmation makes them both howl with laughter, Mary bending over and holding onto the table for support. It takes a few minutes for them to calm down, wiping tears away as they catch their breath.

“Well, that’s got to be the least shocking thing I’ve learned about Jake.”

It makes them both start giggling again; the blonde man’s affinity for his home state is well-known, frequently coming up in conversation.

“I should get going. I have to be up early to set up for a funeral. But I have one more thing for you, well, two things.” Flora dips back into her bag, pulling out a brown paper bag and a square envelope. “From Bradley.”

“McDonald’s?”

“Well, he requested I get you an apple pie - it had to be an apple pie - from Sift, but by the time I got there this afternoon, all their pies were gone. So I improvised, and thankfully, Mickey D’s had just done a fresh batch.”

“Apple pie is my favorite.” Mary quietly says, peeking into the bag and seeing five pie boxes. “Thank you for doing this, Flora.”

“It’s no problem. Bradley was so cute when he came in; I couldn’t help but agree. It’s sweet how much he cares about you.”

“I’m starting to understand how much he really does.” A content feeling settles in her chest, warming her up from the cold sadness that was taking over earlier.

Only 60 more days until Bradley is home.

“You’ll probably want to warm those up before you eat them,” Flora says, slipping her shoes back on, getting ready to leave.

“Hey, we're having a girls' night and putting together care packages for the Daggers next week. You should come, you can help with Nat’s box. Plus, it’s great to have extra hands to help put them together.”

“That sounds fun; I’d love to join you guys.” She opens the door and hesitates for a second, turning back to Mary. “No one knows about me and Jake hooking up. I didn’t tell Nat because she wouldn’t understand, and I don’t think he’s told anyone either. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“No problem. I’m always here to talk if you want some fairly neutral input.”

“Fairly neutral?”

She shrugs. “I know he can be an idiot, but Jake is a good guy, and he’s also my friend, so I can’t be completely unbiased about him. Fairly neutral is the best I can offer.”

“Fair enough.” Flora smiles at her, yelling back as she walks down the steps. “We should grab dinner sometime! Have a good night!”

“Night!” Mary waves, happier than she’s been since the beginning of the month.

She locks the door after making sure Flora gets into her car safely, promising herself that she’ll reach out to friends more. No more moping around, being sad that Bradley is gone.

I’ve got to learn how to deal with this if we’re going to date. It’s not like he’s going to leave the Navy; he’s going to be gone.

Snapping photos of her presents, she starts mentally composing the thank you email she’s going to send to Bradley. The Lincoln is on a communications blackout for the first three weeks of the cruise, but she’s been sending him little updates. Letting him know when she’s thinking of him, hoping she isn’t filling up his inbox too much.

She plops back into her favorite corner of the couch, stretching out on the chaise that makes her get a little hot under the collar every time she sits on it.

“Let’s read this card.” She mumbles to herself around a bite of pie as Bond saves the world and gets the girl.

A photo flutters out of the envelope as she pulls the card out, and she loses her breath when she flips it over. It’s the two of them on Valentine’s Day. When she made him pancakes, the photo he said he was going to tape up in his bunk.

A promise he followed through on, his last text showing off his rack. Corners of the blue blanket neatly tucked in, and the photo of the two of them taped on the wall right next to his pillow. Mary looks at the photo he printed for her, smiling at the happiness radiating from both of them. The corners of their eyes crinkled, and her dimple popping out; she still can’t quite believe that Bradley Bradshaw wants her, of all people.

Then she reads the card, and her insecurities quiet down for the night.

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fic tag | credit for dividers here

#top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fic #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #DSS universe #MM fic #elle writes #mar[r]y me fic

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alyswritings · 1 year

Text

Rudy's Sick Baby

Request: hiii i hope you’re having a amazing day or whenever you’re reading this :) i was wondering if you could write a rudy pankow x toddler daughter reader where reader wakes up sick one day and Rudy takes care of reader just like your JJ I really like that one of my favorite it thank you

Rudy Pankow x daughter!reader

Summary: Y/N wakes up sick in the middle of the night.

Warnings: throwing up

a/n: thank you for the request. sorry it took so long to get out. hope you all enjoy!

(gif not mine)

Rudy gets woken up by a small hand shaking his arm.

"Daddy?" His four year old quietly calls. "Daddy." She shakes his arm some more. "Daddy." She whines, shaking him with both hands.

"Hmm? What?" Rudy asks, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What? Baby, what is it?"

"I frew up." Y/N says, pouting.

"Okay." Rudy mumbles. He rubs his eyes, slowly sitting up. He quietly groans as he gets out of bed, still half asleep. "Where, honey?"

"My bed." She says. "I didn't have enough time to move."

"That's okay, baby." Rudy says. "Come on, baby." He grabs her hand and leads her to the bathroom, turning the light on. He looks down at her, some vomit in her hair and on her pajamas.

"You want a bath?" Rudy says and Y/N nods. "Do you feel like throwing up right now?"

"No." She says.

"All right." He grabs some paper towel and does his best to get the puke out of her hair. He fills the tub up a bit with warm water. He helps her undress and then gets her in the tub.

"I'm gonna get your sheets in the washer, all right?" Rudy says.

"Okay." Y/N says, playing with some of her bath toys.

Rudy deals with Y/N's bedding and then goes to the bathroom. He helps her wash off and he washes her hair.

"All right, princess. We're all good now." Rudy says, unplugging the tub. Y/N stands up and Rudy dries her hair a bit before he wraps the towel around her. Rudy picks her up and carries her back to her room.

"Okay, what pajamas you want?" Rudy asks.

"The, uh... the Christmas ones. But the Frosty shirt and the Santa pants." She says.

"You got it." Rudy says, grabbing her said options and a pair of underwear. He crouches on the floor and puts her on her feet. "One foot at a time." He says, holding her underwear out. Y/N keeps one hand on his shoulder so she doesn't fall as he helps her into her underwear and then the pajama pants. Rudy takes the towel away and helps her put her shirt on.

"C'mere, munchkin." He pulls her closer, drying her hair with the towel some more. He combs through her hair.

"I want it dry." Y/N says.

"Okay." Rudy nods. "Here, you want your stuffed animal?" He asks while standing up and picking her up. Y/N nods and Rudy grabs the stuffed animal off her bed.

Rudy carries Y/N into the bathroom and sits her on the counter. He plugs the hair dryer in and turns it on low before drying her hair.

"The couch, my bed, or remake your bed?" Rudy asks. He puts her hair in a loose and low ponytail in case she throws up again.

"Your bed." Y/N says, holding her arms up.

"Okay." He picks her up. He takes the bag out of the trash can and takes the bucket, going to his room. Rudy puts the bucket by the bed and then tucks her in. "I'm gonna go get you some crackers and ginger ale, all right?"

"Okay." Y/N mumbles.

"You want Mary Poppins in?" He asks and she nods. "Okay." He kisses her on the head before putting the movie on and then walking out. After a few minutes, he returns with ginger ale in a plastic cup and a straw and a pack of crackers.

"All right. There you go for when you want it." Rudy says, putting them on the nightstand. Y/N sits up and grabs the ginger ale, taking a few sips. "Go slow, baby." He tells her and she makes sure to not chug it. She puts it back and lays back down.

Rudy lays down next to her, pulling the covers up to her shoulders.

"You feeling okay right now?" He asks and she nods. Rudy kisses her on the head, wrapping his arm around her, holding her to his chest. Y/N puts her hand over Rudy's, holding onto her stuffed animal with her other hand.

- - -

Rudy is woken up by a retching sound and he quickly sits up, seeing Y/N leaning over the bed and puking into the trash can.

"Oh, baby." Rudy sympathetically sighs. He winces, wishing he could help her. She stops for a moment, enough time for him to grab the trash can and move it onto the bed. Y/N holds onto it as she starts to throw up again, coughing.

"It hurts, daddy." She sobs.

"I know, baby. I know. You just gotta let it out and it'll be over." Rudy comforts. He starts to rub her head, but she whines and pushes his hand away before vomiting some more. Rudy doesn't touch her again, understanding she doesn't like it.

After a few moments, Y/N finishes and she lets out a small whine. She lays back down, cuddling her stuffed animal. Rudy gets up and goes to the bathroom, pouring the puke into the toilet and flushing. He washes the trash can out and grabs a wash cloth, getting it wet.

He goes back to the room and puts the trash can down before gently wiping Y/N's face.

"Drink some ginger ale, baby." Rudy grabs the cup and holds it out to her.

"I don't want anything." Y/N whines.

"You need liquids, baby girl. If you don't have any then you'll dry heave and that can hurt a lot more." Rudy says.

Y/N sighs, sitting up, and takes the cup. She slowly sips some of it before giving it back to Rudy and he puts it back.

Rudy puts the first Narnia movie in before lying back in bed. He holds Y/N close to him, his daughter cuddling close to him, her back to his chest so she can see the TV.

Rudy keeps his arm around her, gently pressing a few kisses to her head. He uses his pinky and slowly strokes her nose. He continues to run his pinky along her nose while cuddling her as they both the movie, the girl slowly falling asleep.

By time Edmund gets reunited with his siblings, Rudy looks down at his daughter and sees her asleep. He stops brushing her nose keeping his arms around her.

"I love you, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing her on the head. He shuts his eyes, falling back asleep for however long he'll be able to.

Taglist: @glxwingrxse @venomsvl @wildieflower @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @ironmaiden1313

#rudy pankow #rudy pankow x daughter reader #rudy pankow x daughter!reader

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xlillyle · 9 months

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The Flags absolutely dragged Chuuya once into a photobooth despite him insisting they wouldn't all fit into it and the pictures from that day are silly and in most of them you can't see everyone or it's blurry except in the very last one because Albatross refused to go otherwise.

Walk with me and see my vision because I can't draw but Albatross is the guy that is always super close to the camera in the pictures and Piano Man has reserved but fond smile and Chuuya is in the middle squeezed between everyone, he's the only one you ALWAYS see.

(it makes him sad when he looks at the pictures because Chuuya would rather have more of his friends instead of him) I mean what sorry back to the sillies

Lippmann obviously is the STAR, flirts with the camera.

Doc has an awkward smile and Albatross often has an arm wrapped around him like he wanted to escape (he wanted to give the others space in the booth).

Iceman has these kinda unmoved cool-guy faces and is always in the background together with Piano Man.

The blurry pictures are often because Albatross would shout something for all of them to say but instead of the classic "Cheese" it's him yelling "AND NOW EVERYONE SAY SUPERCALIFRAGILISTICEXPIALIDOCIOUS" and everyone looks at him and is like "what the FUCK?" except Chuuya who just says "no" because he knows where it comes from they saw the movie three times already (they all watch Mary Poppins later that night together).

#bungou stray dogs #bsd stormbringer #chuuya nakahara #bsd the flags #bsd hc #xlillyle bsd threads

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 2 years

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tw lots of animal death but. listen

so when I was a kid I got super into reading the og books that Disney would make movie adaptations of cause they were always super different. Like, 101 Dalmatians has four Dalmatian parents actually. Mary Poppins had four Banks children, two of which were twin infants. The sequel to 101 had superpowered comas and the dog star Sirius.

But like... the wildest was The Fox and the Hound. Because like

ok so the disney movie. everyone cries over it. It’s a metaphor story about two little kids who meet and befriend each other, only to be torn apart by society.

the book is. not that

some notes:

the fox and the hound are not friends, they never were

that’s the most important one. second most important:

there is no plot, only the author saying “hey wouldn’t this be fucked up if--”

featuring!!

the fox is abandoned in the woods way earlier

the fox intentionally kills the other dog, chief, by leading him onto train tracks when the train is coming. yea

the fox has two different mates and two litters of kits. ALL OF THEM DIE. ALL OF THEM. PRETTY VIOLENTLY

speaking of the fox having two different mates, one of my most distinct memories is reading about fox sex in the middle of a state-specific tavern while the music was too loud and I was waiting for my goddamn fries. I was very concerned my Mom would find out I was reading about fox sex on accident. that was fun

there are so many animal deaths too i should not have been reading it as a child

and finally!

the hound kills the fox at the end

the hound kills the fox and then the book ends when he has to be put down

anyway. you know how people keep complaining that disney let esmeralda live at the end of hunchback when she dies in the original book?

let’s be this annoying about fox and the hound let’s insist they make a live-action remake where copper just fuckin kills tod because “reality.” /s

#the fox and the hound #fox and the hound #disney #mine.

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momo-de-avis · 6 months

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You know what? Fuck it. It's not worth it. Don't go to Sintra. Everything is crowded. The town is so crowded they had to limit traffic. The Pena Palace is just one big anthill. Whatever your clever trick to skip lines or enjoy the "quiet hours", I promise you will not work. "It's raining tomorrow so I bet there will be less people!" There won't. In fact, not only will it be just as crowded, you now have to stand in line AT LEAST for 45 minutes under the pouring rain with absolutely no shelter. And don't even bother with an umbrella. Don't even bother with checking the weather app before you get there. The Pena Palace has its own climate. Is it drizzling in Sintra with a bit of wind? It's a fucking typhoon up there. You open that umbrella, you're Mary Poppin your ass down the cliff, and if not you, then your umbrella will just quit its sorry life and lift off to glide across the skies amid the tree tops, something I have literally seen every single time I've been there.

"I'll buy the tickets online with a time slot, that'll be easier!" The 11AM time slot today extended for more than a 100 meters at 11.45. My time slot was 10AM and I got in at 10.50.

"I'll go on monday, less people will go on monday!" I promise you literally every tourist in Lisbon who is alive thought the same. Monday is, in fact, extra crowded.

"Sunday, then!" Accept that there are no quiet days in Sintra. Your Tricks To Escape Tourists are actually things every single tourist has thought of. Sintra takes no breaks. You chose the Instagrammer Palace, you're going to waste 2h just standing around, waiting, and then visit the Palace in about 40-45 minutes because the staff there refuse to let anyone stop and breathe or, god forbid, read a fucking plaque or take a picture and treat that shit like goddamn Shawshank with the KEEP WALKING yelling.

"I'll go to THAT other palace then" while there are palaces that are not even a fraction of the chaos that is Pena, I promise you you're not thinking of them. Yes Regaleira is just as chaotic, if not more, you just don't feel it is because it's a fucking massive garden, and you get there and see all these tracks and paths and think "ah! I made the right decision" and then you get to the initiation well and you're back to cursing god

"I will go during low season there's less people then!" I've been hearing these words all month long, only without the exciting ingenuity of someone who truly believes they've cracked the code. Last year I heard the same in October and November. Baby boy. Baby girl. There's no low season. Everything is hell right now. As I keep saying: whatever your clever trick, literally everyone else has thought about it

"I bet just the town is okay" Sintra is a town whose urban layout looks like what happens if a kid comes up with the concept of a city in a shoebox. I don't think most people understand how tiny it is but I think confusion stems from the fact that Sintra is advertised as having beautiful places to visit like Colares and Guincho, which is true, but that's the district. The town, where all the palaces are, is small. The streets are narrow. Think oldest part of Alfama narrow, only in Sintra there's like 4 of them and that's the whole thing. You can literally visit it in one hour. I'm not dishing out on it, it's one of my favourite places and the fact that it's so small adds to the charm for me. But now drop thousands of tourists in there and you're back to that kid designing a city inside a shoebox but now he's actually dropping bugs in it.

And sure, Piriquita isn't that crowded, and you go on the takeway line and there's only two people ahead of you and you think, see this isn't so bad! And then the two people ahead of you are actually a single group of 19 spanish middle aged women who are now, ONLY NOW, deciding what pastries they want, and since they're here, might as well ask what every single one of them are, and oh you're not in a hurry are you? We're gonna be here a while haha. And you just wanted one silly little travesseiro

Just skip Sintra. It's a fucking nightmare. I'm wet, I'm frustrated, I've been on my feet for 40 minutes and I've ran out of things to explain about the fucking Palace because otherwise i simply will have nothing to say when we're actually inside.

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