#Merlin being valued and having a good time

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

i can fix him (no really i can) // mattheo riddle x fem reader

playlist : i can fix him (no really i can) - taylor swift

summary : mattheo riddle is cold as ice , he always has been , so who are you to think you can fix him?

gryffindor reader , friends with golden trio , makes a bet , fluff , harry x reader platonic , swearing , honestly cringe but wtv

masterlist tppd series masterlist another mattheo fic!

you sat in the great hall staring ahead of you at a certain brown haired boy , eating his food silently surrounded by his chatty friends he didnt seem to pay any mind to. mattheo riddle. he had always intriuged you , you werent sure your curiousity was requited but you knew you liked him. a lot.

"you best not be looking at him again y/n" hermione sighed , sat opposite to you and in front of the slytherin table.

"hermione , ive liked him since first year are we still seriously asking this question every day." you pulled your eyes away from him , and looked at the girl with a teasing smile , knowing you were guilty of staring.

"gosh you really need to get over it , i mean what about dean he seems to really like you?" you both turned your heads to look at hermiones suggested replacement for mattheo , who was currently trying to turn his pumkin juice into water just with his eyes.

you scoffed and turned back to hermione , who looked defeated , "im sure the conversation would be great."

hermione ingorned your sarcasm and continued to argue , "mattheo isnt a good guy we both know this,"

"i can fix him," you winked at her teasingly as she scoffed , containing a laugh.

"arent you just our brave little bob the builder," harry joked , you and hermione being completely startled by his and rons prescence next to you both , eventhough theyd been there the whole time.

you laughed at him , attempting to defend your claim, "no really i can! ill fix him so hard that he gets mistaken for golden boy cedric!"

"this is starting to sound oddly sexua-" ron stated blandly before hermione slapped his arm , making him stop talking abruptly and clutch it.

"i dont believe you," hermione stated simply as you smirked at her.

"end of the week and he'll like me back or atleast talk to me," you stuck your hand out as she hesitated before shaking it muttering a disapproving , 'deal'.

looking at her smugly you let your eyes quickly wander to mattheo , only to see him staring right at you. this caused you to gasp and turn you whole body to face harry next to you , who looked at you in confusion.

holding a hand to harrys ear and whispering , "is he still staring at me" timidly.

harry looked , only to see a very threatening mattheo riddle stare back at him like he started the wizarding war.

"oh merlin no not at you , hes looking at me , not in a .... very nice way," harry whispered back as you refused to turn , nervous by your crush of years staring in your direction.

grabbing harrys arm with your two hands and shaking it with a small cry of terror harry turned back to you, "hes so hot even when he looks like he wants to kill you! id let him as long as he never changed that gorgeous face"

"wow great to know you value my life," harry muttered sarcastically as you laughed at him before slowly turning bcak to face hermione , avoiding looking in mattheos direction.

"well hermione its great to do business with you," you smiled at her as she grimaced at you.

"he is a person you know," she said sternly.

"i know , thats the problem! hes good looking hes smart AND hes a good person!" you sighed.

"well i dont know about one of those things-" ron started in disinterested grumble.

"thats why im doing this hermione! hes so perfect that a little bet is the motivation i need to actually talk to him!" you ranted to her.

she just looked back a you blankly , nodding along to what you said , too bored to argue back.

"anyways , did anyone do their herbology homework?" hermione asked all three of us.

ron let out a defeated sigh , "how many times hermione , not all of us have that little time turning watch thing , we cant do herbology because its at the same time as history of magic!"

"well , ronald , i apolagise that i forgot!...." hermiones arguing back faded into the background as your sudden realisation that you had just made an impossible bet sunk in.

no one can melt mattheo riddle , it is literally impossible.

what have you gotten yourself into.

-----

maybe it is possible! oh the Gods of luck had blessed you today.

Dumbledore just announced the triwizard tournament and from your oh so knowledgable friend hermione , you knew that a ball was involved in the triwizard tournament. maybe the fact harrys name came out the goblet wasnt so good but you had a plan! now this may seem ridiculous , the ball isnt until christmas! but...throughout the term youre doing practices , the first one on friday! two days from now!

and your great plan was to dance with mattheo in this practice, gain his interest , ask him to hogsmeade over the weekend and then BOOM , hes in love!! all by the end of the week!

as you recited your plan to your three friends they looked back at you , horrified.

"right and... you expect mattheo riddle to fall in love with you , in three days?" ron asked in pure confusion.

"well yeah thats what i just said," you said with a shrug.

"y/n you're really not that charismatic i dont think youve ever flirted with anyeone nevermind asked a boy to hogsmeade," hermione said , almost with sympathy for your pure delusion.

"you guys are cruel i think i can ..... i cant do it." you dropped your act of confidence.

your shoulder slouched as you lost all hopes of catching the boy of your dreams , the plan drifting into the forgotten corner of your mind.

the trio watched you lose all happiness and life and let out sighs , harry deciding to speak up , "y/n i think your plan could work. i mean your flirting will be ... raw and.... new". he spoke with uncertainty as he tried to speak in a way that was reassuring , eventhough he didnt believe a word he said.

"really?" you said with hope , looking up at him.

"sure!" he smiled .

"let me practice on you harry!" as you turned to him with an excited smile drowning out his words of declining your request.

you looked at him with your prettiest smile , shuffling closer than before and playing with your hair , "hey boy , want me to be your chosen one?"

you winked at him as he blushed a deep red and looked anywhere but at you.

ron laughed loudly at harrys panic , "that really made you flustered?!, fucking hell!"

ron howled with laughter as harry rubbed his neck , until you turned to ron with the same flirtatious smile , "i really like your hair , i heard gingers are rare - wanna be my one in a million?"

ron paused his laughter and looked at you with horror , "there is literally like 5 other gingers in this room right now-"

"and out of all of them , i chose you" you winked at him as he was left speechless.

"yeah shes kinda good," ron laughed.

"all i can say is good luck, " hermione stated as you smiled in victory.

meanwhile an extremely angered mattheo riddle stood up from the slytherin table and stormed out the hall , having seen your whole encouter with harry.

----

the next thing you knew , you were sat on a bench with all of your year group present , boys on one side , girls on the other. you clenched your shaking hands onto the bench on either side of you , staring directly forward and avoiding mattheo who was stood a few metres away from where you stared.

"you were so confident a few days ago why are you shaking?" hermione asked teasingly.

you snapped your head towards her with a hard glare , "im in no mood for teasing mione im gonna throw up."

she sighed , "just ask him to dance its not that bad y/n dont worry!"

"and if he says no?" you asked in panic.

"then he says no and you lose the bet , " she smiled.

"its...its not really about the bet mione i really like him , if he rejects me i dont think ill recover." you look down at your lap as your leg bounces.

"oh give over! theres about 5 people i can see right now , staring at you , itching to dance with you," she nodded her head in the direction of a group of ravenclaws staring at you as you cringed internally , "and... ha it looks like mattheos seen them too!" she teasingly whsipered in a sing-song voice.

you gave her a confused look before turning to see mattheo , who was actually throwing a deathly glare at the boys who were staring at you.

"theyre probably looking at you mione," you sulked as she went to argue back , interrupted by Mcgonagall walking into the room.

"silence!" she started as you drowned out her words for the next 5 minutes , only tuning back in when she made ron dance with her , laughing hysterically at him.

after a few minutes of rons awkward dancing she urged everyone to join in , everyone hesitated and stayed seated until - to everyones -suprise mattheo was the first person to walk forward with a confident stride to our side of the room , coming straight towards......you?!!

you made eye contact with him and held a hopeful smile until daphne stood infront of him, blocking your view of him and stopping him in his tracks . he tried to get past her until she whispered something to him , making him stop and put his hand on her waist , beginning to dance as everyone else seemed to do the same.

but you remained in your seat , motified by the sight of the boy you liked dancing with one of the prettiest girls in your year , right infront of you.

hermione rested her hand on your shoulder sympathetically before being dragged away by a guy shes friends with in ravenclaw.

you sat in silence until a hand came into your view , held out to you. following up the arm the hand was attached to you finally reached harrys smiling face.

"he sucks anyway , dance with me instead?" he smiled as you allow you sadness to fade slightly , nodding and grabbing harrys hand allowing yourself to be pulled into the middle of the floor , about two metres from where mattheo and daphne danced.

"thanks harry," you said softly as you rested your arms around his neck , his hands resting on your waist.

"no worries, theres no other girl id rather dance with in this room."

"asides from cho chang but ill let you have it because she isnt technically in the room," as you laughed at his flustered face.

"hows ron after dancing with-" you started.

"oh hes horrified , dont worry ill make sure to bring that up for the rest of his life. im sure fred and george will too when i tell them," you both laughed together , letting yourself feel the meloncholia leave.

"i-" you began before being cut off by a sudden presence stood next to you and harry.

turning to look at who had created the shadow inbetween you , you were just as horrified as ron was to see mattheo stood there looking at you.

"can we dance?" he said sternly , not sparing a single glance at harry who had let go of your waist.

"but you were dancing with daphne-"

"i just danced with her whilst draco mustered up the courage to ask her himself , she didnt want to have no one to dance with. i wanted to dance with you." he said with zero hesitation , only breaking eye contact to glance at your arms still behind harrys neck , making you drop them quickly.

"s-...sure" he didnt wait to grab your hand and bring you towards him , resting his hands on your hips and shoving harry out the way with his side.

you felt the blood rush up to your cheeks , hesitantly bringing your arms around his neck and swaying to the music with him , falling into step with everyone else.

he pulled you in closer , his expression becoming softer as harry was gone and it was just you.

"why did you want to dance with me?" you asked so softly it was almost a whisper , a low exchange between two unknowingly requited lovers.

"why wouldnt i?" he paused , a so small - it was almost not visible -smile gracing his lips , "youre interesting."

"how so?" you laughed.

he laughed too before replying , "i dont know im..drawn to you. i have been since first year , i guess i just never acted on it till now."

"why?..."

he paused , "well you like potter dont you? and i dont know if you realise this but every guy here wants to be with you , theyre just too scared and i guess i was too."

you looked at him with pure confusion , "i dont not like harry , hes my best friend!"

he laughed , "well considering you left him to dance with me i think i know that now."

you smiled up at him , admiring every feature you hadnt seen before from your distant pining. from his deep brown eyes to how perfect his curls layed on his head , the small scar across his eyebrow and the so faint freckles that you can only see them at this close proximity.

"i think youre interesting too," he smiled at your words as you left the first sign of your requited feelings , "i dont know you well but ive always liked you. at first it was just because youre hot - but now its much more! youre cold to everyone but i can tell youre probably really nice, and youre so passionate during quidditch matches , and youre so smart which is really suprising considering you only show up to the lessons we share- oh. oh!" you rambled as you realised how obvious his signs were this whole time.

he laughed at you a very light pink painting itself across his cheeks , "yeah , oh."

you looked down sheepishly until his soft voice caught your attention again, "well i guess a trip to hogsmeade has been due for quite a while then?"

you grinned at him nodding your head in excitement , "definetly!"

as you and mattheo continued to sway and talk about everything you could think of - harry , ron and hermione stood in the corner of the room.

"fuck off she actually did it!!" ron said in pure suprise.

"ive never seen mattheo riddle smile before," harry commented before turning to a happy hermione , "you owe her five chocolate bars."

#harry potter x reader #harry potter #hp fanfic #hp fandom #hp #x reader #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo x reader #riddle #mattheo x you #slytherin #slytherin boys #harry #harry potter imagine #harry potter characters as taylor swift albums #ron weasley #hermione granger #taylor swift #i can fix him (no #ttpd #imagine #x y/n #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #draco #draco malfoy x reader

[artbyblastweave]

Valentine from the first Kingsman movie is like if Thanos was written with a coherent understanding of why what Thanos is trying to do is morally bad. He’s a billionaire who dresses down and eats fast food out of an aesthetic appeal to being a reasonable, relatable, everyday guy- it is very important to his self image that he’s a quirky everyman- but his plan exclusively fucks over the people he’s emulating. Even beyond just the raw numbers, his booby-trapped sim cards are definitionally mostly going to those who can’t afford good phone and internet plans. His elevator pitch for his “save the world through mass murder” plan uses a tortured virus-host metaphor that’s patently unscientific but appeals to the elitist sensibilities of his backers; and he in fact sought out Mark Hamill’s character because his crank “Gaia’s Vengeance”-style theory of climate change flatters and provides moral backing to Valentine’s plan. He complains about politicians and heads of industry who stick their heads in the sand and refuse to act, but when it comes time to select people “valuable enough” to go out of his way to protect in his safe zones he almost exclusively pulls from the same pool of elites he was previously complaining about. He can’t stand the sight of blood or violence but chooses the most incredibly bloody and violent method of population control possible, insulating himself from the reality of what he’s doing through physical isolation and a test run performed on comically unsympathetic targets. He never takes responsibility for any deaths, even those that were patently his fault- the people in the church killed each other. He accuses Eggsy and Merlin of “killing innocent people” when they blow up the heads of his co-conspirators using bombs he himself installed in all of their necks- and they are the ones who register to him as “innocent people,” and not the millions and millions of people he’s trying to kill all over the world. Of course they are! If the proles he never talks to or looks directly at held moral value in his calculus the plan would never have gotten off the ground! He is the exact kind of real-life asshole who talks like this on the internet and at shitty comedy shows, except that he’s been given the resources and reach to make his facile elitist misanthropy everybody else’s problem. 

#kingsman #kingsman the secret service #thoughts #he's also played by Samuel L. Jackson who's having a ball #which isn't thematically relevant but is definitely contributive to why I'm still thinking about this movie

[gawrkin]

I normally don't like Tennyson's narrative around the female characters due to his framing of them being the source of all the faults in Camelot.

But there's a part of this story that often catches my attention and its Guinevere's rejection of Arthur:

Like, I can't help but dig idea that Guinevere rejects Arthur because of his virtue. As if his holy character actively irritates her.

If I was writing, I would take it further and outright imply Guinevere is some kind of demonic being. If Tennyson can get away with turning Arthur into a mysterious, divine entity that Merlin found instead of being born of Uther's misdeeds, then I don't see why I can't apply that to Gwen.

Welsh Myth already provides the idea of Guinevere as a Fae/Giantess so I would just present her as a "Reverse Persephone" -

Guinevere is actually a mysterious girl who came up from the "Kingdom beneath the Earth", "a daughter of a Colossus of Old" and is reared as ward of one of Arthur's vassals. Arthur, being taken by her beauty, took her as his wife. "And so, the Worthiest and Most Righteous King on Earth married a she-devil, the fairest of all her race, and made her his Queen."

The reason she finds Arthur repulsive is because she's a "primal spirit" who was born deep underground and can't stand the presence of someone so "Heavenly", so divorced from "the touch of the Earth". Camelot falls into "sinfulness" because Guinevere is in fact a physical avatar of all Materialism and Worldly Values, both good and bad.

And instead of Guinevere repenting of her actions, I would just take a cue from E.A. Robinson and have Gwen reject Arthur to the very end:

And if Arthur and Guinevere ever meet again, Guinevere could go as far as threaten to eat Arthur - "as is the habit of my kind, says the Queen" - especially if Arthur starts posturing about his (Victorian) morals and being chaste for her.

If there was a way to present Guinevere as a proper Anti-heroine or compelling villainess without the usual sexism/misogyny, this is how I would do it.

She's not so much an actively evil force as she is simply incompatible with the "Blameless" Arthur and indeed, the marriage's eventual failure was inevitable.

But for a time, while the marriage endured, Camelot was the place where the Spiritual and Material meet as fellows and prosperity ensued.

#queen guinevere #king arthur #idylls of the king #E.A. Robinson #arthuriana #arthurian legend #arthurian mythology #arthurian legends #my thoughts

[strayheartless]

Thinking about autistic Riku…

Riku who wasn’t diagnosed until after he became a keyblade master, and that was only because Merlin took one look at him and was like “oh my sweet summer child.”

15yr old Riku at the peak of his masking having actual fits of physical rage in his bedroom that he doesn’t really have an answer for other than “today was hard” that are actually meltdowns. We’re talking throwing things, braking shit, rocking and hair gripping. The whole nine yards.

Riku who struggles comprehending why his friends make plans and then don’t follow them through. Like building the raft. They said they were going to do it, so he was doing it. Why was he the only one taking it seriously?

Riku who’s grasp on humour and sarcasm is good up to a point. Meaning he knows how to do it himself, but if it’s directed at him it takes him a hot second to sus it out. He usually ends up giving actual explanations to people for their sarcasm, even though he’s registered what it was, and then gets told “I was joking”. Which fustrated the hell out of him because he KNEW that!!

Riku who has really bad light sensitivity and it’s part of the reason he keeps his hair long for such a long time. Sometimes he kind of wishes he could have the blindfold back.

Riku who despite purposefully keeping his hair long, spends nearly every day tying it back because it’s too much, then taking it down because that’s too much, then putting it back up and taking it back down until he seriously considers taking a pair of scissors to it.

Riku who doesn’t like to be touched unless he’s initiating the touch. Sora is the ONLY exception to that rule, but even then Riku has days when he moves out of Sora’s hold because it’s too much.

Riku who’s special interest is Gummi ships and is VERY happy when they go to see Cid and the RGRC because Cid is the only one that can keep up with his 1000mph rants about mobility blocks and rotation weaponry.

Riku who values silence, and no one can figure out how he deals with Sora’s constant stream of chatter, until he one day moves his hair back to show Mickey the earplugs in his ears. He felt guilty about it for a long time until Sora told him he already knew about the plugs and didn’t mind, he just like being with him.

Riku who likes to play with kairis hair but can’t abide having his own hair touched.

Riku who will usually eat anything but if you give him avocado he will have the biggest sensory ick moment you’ve ever seen. Same goes for mushrooms.

Riku who steadfastly refuses to sleep in fuzzy PJ’s because “no thanks I’d rather be flayed alive, it would be less stressful.”

Riku who, at aged 8, told kairi that if she put that scarf around his neck he would “absolutely start screaming” and then did when she insisted he’d catch cold. Scarfs are demon cloths.

Riku who would rather sit at the back of squalls office in the corner while the other man works, than sit in the science lab with everyone else because Squalls office is quiet and he likes that Squall says what he means.

Riku who ignored his own emotional, physical and sensory needs/wellbeing for months while looking for sora and ended up having a meltdown in front of Mickey and master YenSid.

Riku who now has an app on his Gummiphone that Cid, Squall, Even and Ienzo designed to help him build routine and regulate/track his emotional well-being.

He relies of the breathing exercises game a lot in Quadratum.

Riku who is the reason chip and dale created dark mode in phone settings because nobody could figure out why he barely used his phone until he admitted that it always felt like he was looking into the sun.

Riku who has keyblade related Stims, like tapping the flat of the blade with his nails or messing with the key chain when he’s stressed.

Riku who also has stims such as: flicking his tongue inside his mouth while he’s thinking; twirling strands of his hair incessantly; scrunching his nose; clicking his fingers when he’s distressed; tapping the toe of his boot against the opposite heel when he’s stood still; imperceptible swaying; holding his thumb knuckle gently between his teeth; soft popping noises with his mouth; tapping his palms with the tips of his fingers.

I have more but this is it for now.

#autistic riku #riku headcanon #autistic riku headcanon #KH riku #kingdom hearts #KH sora #radiant garden #rgrc

[larluce]

A little sneak peak of what is to come in my Merthur Fic "From the grave to the craddle"

Merlin: (looking at Emrys, horrified) You... you killed him.

Emrys: And all his men too.

Merlin: *takes a few steps back, scared*

Emrys: Don't look at me like that. I did what I had to. To protect you both.

Merlin: (tearing) You didn't even hesitate, you don't even have a shred of remorse. You-

Emrys: You think killing is hard, boy? (He laughs) I guess at some point it is. You wait in the bushes, the animal might outrun you or charge you. It certainly isn't easy at first, to get your shot. But once you get the handle of it, is easy as cake. (Deadpans) You know what's really hard though? Healing something. That is hard. That requires patience. You can break something in two seconds. But it can take forever to fix it. A lifetime, generations, centuries. (Looks at the corpse) This... (he points it) is nothing.

Merlin: Well, I rather heal than to kill!

Emrys: Both skills are important. The problem, my little ward, is that healing spells are used when the damage is already done. Killing and attacking spells are to prevent damage from happening in the first place.

Merlin: Protection spells work for that too! It's not necessary to kill anyone! Magic shouldn't be used for something so vile. You were the one who told me magic can be good and beautiful! This is the kind of things that make people afraid of magic, of us!

Emrys: Druids think like you. That magic should only be used for good, never for harm, but look where that's gotten them. A life where they constantly flee, without settling down, helping people selflessly, even when they are paid poorly. A life of being hunted and killed dispite being perfectly capable of defending yourself. Several times they let their people die for respecting said "magical values". Is that the life you seek? Always live in fear? Running away? Letting those you love die?

#merlin #merlin bbc #merthur #arthur and merlin #bbc merlin #merlin and arthur #merthur prompt #merlin fanfic #merlin fic #merlin prompt #merthur headcanon #merthur fic rec #merthur fic #merthur fanfic #merlin emrys #merlin x arthur #arthur pendragon #king arthur #arthur #From the Grave to the Cradle

[quotidian-oblivion]

for the Melrin ask - Worst thing you think Merlin ever did. im so curious about this one

I had to think so much about this one too.

I don't know. I love Merlin, he's my favorite character. I justify everything he does, even if it's bad. That's what happens with any favorite fictional characters.

I don't want to say "Not telling Arthur sooner" or "Mistrusting Mordred" or "Poisoning Morgana" or anything of the like because, to be fair, that's a given. It's something a lot of us will lament about. Mainly because the writers did not do their job properly (imo).

I'd say, the worst thing he did, to me, is be passive.

I'm bringing up my own values and morals here because I believe that Merlin ruined himself and all of Albion by being passive. By listening to the dragon and not doing his own research. By being whatever Arthur needed him to be. By taking things upon himself. By not trusting others because that's what he was told.

If Merlin had been a little more assertive and a little more sure of himself and what he wanted, then the show would have gone on in an entirely different direction. But he's passive. For the majority of the show. The biggest time where he's not is in the first scene where he challenges Arthur because he wanted to stay true to his ideals and values which was to stand up against bullies who prey on the ones who can't defend themselves against them.

If he had been more assertive, he would have told Arthur earlier, he wouldn't have poisoned Morgana, he would have trusted Mordred or even Gwaine and the others more.

But he let himself be led by Destiny and Kilgharrah and Gaius and whoever else advised him rather than take some time to think things through first. Like Arthur does.

The thing about Merlin and Arthur here is that Arthur really is bolder than Merlin, but in a different way. He is bold in a way Merlin lacks, which is with practical and tactical matters. He questions Merlin's judgement, questions his father's judgement, Gaius's judgement. Agravaine was a main villain for season 4 because of his perfect ways of manipulation and deceit in a way that it got past Arthur's critical thinking and assertiveness. Arthur doesn't take things at face value and is willing to consider different ways things can go and the show mostly shows that when it comes to questioning Merlin's judgement (like about Agravaine and the siege tunnels and about Gwen at first etc). But in the first few seasons, he questioned his father's judgement a lot too but the fandom mainly focuses on Merlin's opinions vs Arthur's even though he and Uther had met head-on-head multiple times.

Arthur doesn't take things at face value which is why it's possible for so many magic reveal fics to look and be accurate.

But Merlin does. Merlin takes a lot of things at face value. He took Kilgharrah's sayings at face value, he took Gaius's (good-hearted but misguided) warnings at face value. He took what the druids said, what Edwin Muirden said, what Julius Borden said, what that druid seer in the Diamere episode said, and so many others at face value. Just accepted it without thinking much about it and went forward.

Don't get me wrong, Merlin has a very strong moral compass and moral thinking. But he lacks critical thinking. Something which Arthur doesn't lack. They complete each other in this way.

But if we're not looking at all that then I'd say the worst thing I believe Merlin ever did was poison Morgana because- WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MERLIN, DID YOU NOT THINK OF ANY OTHER FUCKING SOLUTION???? HOW ABOUT GETTING MORGANA OUT OF THE CASTLE? HUH? WHAT THEN? WHAT ABOUT TELLING HER THAT HEY, I'M GONNA POISON YOU BUT DW I HAVE THE ANTIDOTE SO THAT I CAN REVIVE YOU AGAIN WHEN MORGAUSE COMES AND LIFTS THE SPELL BC I KNOW THAT YOU DONT WANT THIS EVEN THOUGH YOU THINK UTHER SUCKS. I MEAN, THE USED THAT PLAN SEVERAL HUNDRED TIMES ALREADY, WHY COULDN'T THEY USE IT THIS ONCE???????

#quotidian asks #joan <3 #thanks for the askkkk #bbcm #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin meta #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #morgana #bbc morgana #morgana pendragon #morgana bbc #bbc arthur pendragon #gaius #bbc gaius #gaius bbc #kilgharrah #bbc kilgharrah #kilgharrah bbc #introspective #ik i went a little too introspective and literal there #but heh #idk i'm very particular about morals and values and personality traits when it comes to people #espeically in terms of ignorance #after all #i mainly have to suffer through islamophobia bc bigots don't want to search and see for themselves what Islam is actually about #anyhooo #this is fun i love this ask game

[startledstoat]

Right Person Wrong Time

I definitely don't ship Sirius and Mary but I kinda like the idea of the two of them dating as teens and then having this mutual realization of like "omg I'm gay" "omg wait me too" "omg I'm in love with my best friend" "omfg dude. me too." and having an amusing amicable breakup and becoming each other's wingman/woman so here's this that I just wrote except its less amusing and more sad.

14-year-old Sirius black not knowing was being gay even was because merlin forbid such a topic was spoken about within the halls of the noble and most ancient house of black.

14-year-old Mary choosing random guys to pretend to have crushes on because she didn't know why she never had a real crush like all the other girls her age. She didn't have the knowledge she needed to recognize her feelings for her best friend yet.

15-year-old Sirius asking Mary out because she was a pretty girl and he thought he was supposed to date pretty girls.

15-year-old Mary saying yes because Sirius was a cute boy and she thought maybe if she dated him long enough, she would actually start to like him.

15-year-old Sirius not understanding why the room felt like it lit up whenever Remus walked in but that didn't happen with any of his other friends.

15-year-old Mary being afraid of why she got butterflies when Lily hugged her but not when Sirius kissed her.

16-year-old Sirius hating himself for hurting Remus and not being able to find the words for why his guilt was so immense and why it ached so bad that Remus would likely never speak to him again.

16-year-old Mary suddenly making sense of everything when Marlene came out to her and Lily. Realizing that she'd never grow to like Sirius romantically because she's only ever had eyes for the girl sitting next to her.

16-year-old Mary breaking up with Sirius and being honest with him about why. Not telling him about Marlene or even about Lily but telling him that she had feelings for a girl. Mary being relieved when Sirius took it well and wished her the best of luck with the girl.

16-year-old Sirius having an honest to god crisis when Mary came out to him, realizing that if girls could like girls, then boys could probably like boys too.

16-year-old Mary seeking Marlene out and asking anything and everything about how she knew and what it felt like to be gay. Marlene answering all of her questions and helping her become comfortable with her identity.

17-year-old Sirius keeping these feelings bottled up, even after Remus has forgiven him, because despite being wholly supportive of Mary, he just can't accept himself the same way. Not when his mother's voice is always at the back of his mind, telling him to be a good son, a respectable man, and pure heir. Not when Remus' words to him a year prior "Looks like you really do wear your last name well" rattle his bones every time he looks at the boy.

17-year-old Mary being crushed when Lily and James start dating. She admits her feelings to Marlene, who only gives her some sad words of comfort, unable to do anything else. Mary staying by Lily because she values their friendship above all else and if she can't have the girl she loves, she's at least going to make damn sure that that girl is happy.

18-year-old Sirius not going to James about this, because he needs someone to give him something other than blind faith and optimism. Sirius going to Peter, and for the first time admitting out loud ever, let alone to someone else, tells Peter that he's gay. That he's in love with Remus. And that he hates himself for fucking it up before he ever had a real chance. Peter telling Sirius that he knows. Because Sirius Black has never known subtlety. Peter telling Sirius that, while he has certainly made himself a considerable large obstacle to get around, he doesn't think that Sirius has completely fucked up his chances.

19-year-old Mary being Lily's maid of honor, heartbroken but somehow genuinely happy for her best friend. Mary admitting to Lily just after the wedding that she had feelings for her, not with the intention of ruining her marriage, just with the intention of finally getting the weight off her shoulders. Lily telling Mary that she loves James and wouldn't give him up for anything, but that she wishes Mary would have confessed years earlier. Because Lily had once loved her too. The two of them laughing at themselves and hugging and making a childish pinkie promise. Lily promises that Mary's feelings will never change how she acts around her. Mary silently promises to always have Lily's back and make sure she's happy.

19-year-old Sirius seeing his best friend get married and finally working up the courage to confess to Remus. He doesn't expect Remus to return his feelings, or even still be his friend afterwards. He doesn't expect Remus to cut him off mid-rant to kiss him full on the mouth. Except that's what Remus does. They're in the middle of a war, and they're young, and they're fucking terrified, but none of that seems to matter when now they're all of that together.

21-year-old Mary has failed. Her promise has been broken. The butterflies are gone, withered alongside the Lily that gave them life with each of her hugs.

21-year-old Sirius is so, so cold. There is no light in dark Azkaban cell, the one room Remus will never walk into. The war is over, and he will not be young forever, nor will they ever be together here. Sirius is left to be terrified alone.

#marauders #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #lily evans #mary mcdonald #marylily #james potter #right person wrong time #peter pettigrew #right person not enough time #marlene mckinnon #dorlene #jily

[acciopietro]

May I request a Regulus x Reader where the reader is a confident and snarky Ravenclaw who's the sibling of Alice Forestue

wing woman - r.b. x reader

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

summary: regulus black is dragged to a gryffindor party and runs into a ravenclaw girl who catches his eye

word count: 2477

tw: underage drinking

a/n: hope you enjoy!! it’s a little short but i did my best. this is unedited and not beta-read so hopefully its still okay!!

REGULUS BLACK HAD A VERY selective friend group. Consisting of only the other Slytherin boys he roomed with plus the few others in his year, he liked to think he kept his circled quite closed. He wasn’t a social butterfly, nor was he so introverted to have no friends, but he often found that he saw no point to the whole thing. He’d end up having to spend his time with only Pureblooded Slytherins anyways, and no doubt his parents would arrange a marriage with a girl from the Sacred 28, so everything else didn’t really matter. As soon as Sirius became a Gryffindor, they drifted apart. It only proved his point.

His dorm-mates consisted of Icarus Nott, Evan Rosier, and Miles Boyle (a boy whose family wasn’t a part of the Sacred 28, but was Pureblooded nonetheless). Icarus and Evan, as Sacred 28 members, shared a lot of the same traits and values as Regulus, and he often spent time with them when the families would host extravagant balls and other similar events. Miles, however, while being Pureblood, was a little bit different. His parents were what Regulus’s parents might refer to as... radicals. Meaning, they had no problems with associating with Half-Bloods or non-Slytherins or Muggleborns, meaning Miles was the same. And that meant Regulus was dragged into the mix. 

As time went on, Miles became very good friends with a girl named Dorcas Meadowes. They’d spend time together, and occasionally Regulus would pass by Dorcas as she left their dorm and he entered. Regulus really didn’t care what Miles and Dorcas were doing, as long as his bed stayed clean and he slept peacefully. But it wasn’t until Miles got an invite to a Gryffindor party that it became an issue.

“Please,” Miles was begging at this point, his mousy brown hair drooping lamely over his brows. “I need a wing-man. And god knows the others won’t come with me.”

“I don’t have any interest,” Regulus said blatantly, raising a dark eyebrow. “Besides, I’d get murdered if I took one step into the Gryffindor common room.”

“No, you won’t,” Miles rolled his hazel eyes. “Please, Black. It’s only for a few hours and we have an invite, so they can’t get mad at you.”

“What do you mean, we have an invite?”

Miles pursed his lips. “I already told Dorcas you were coming tonight.”

Regulus groaned. “You’re joking.”

“Please?” Miles put his hands together as though he were praying. “I’ll pay you.”

There was a pregnant pause. “Fifteen galleons.”

Miles scoffed. “Five galleons.”

“Ten?”

“You don’t need this money, you’re rich!” Miles huffed. “Seven galleons. Okay?”

Regulus sighed and ran his hands through his jet-black hair. “Okay, deal. But you owe me.”

“Of course I do,” Miles clapped his hands and grinned before digging into his pocket for the galleons. “You’re the man.”

“You irritate me, Boyle,” Regulus shook his head to himself but accepted the money nonetheless. “To no end.”

“You love me.”

That night, Regulus stood before his reflection in the mirror and sighed. He wore his typical black slacks and white dress shirt over his pale chest, his green-and-silver tie tied pristinely over the buttons of his shirt. He turned the sink’s faucet on, put some water on his hand, and ran said hand through his hair, fluffing it up. Why was he nervous? Oh, Merlin, the water made his hair worse. He had no gel or other product. He’d look like an idiot. He looks like an idiot.

“Hurry up, mate,” Miles called from outside of the bathroom. “Told Dorcas we’d be there five minutes ago.”

Regulus sighed, rolling his pale gray eyes before leaving the bathroom, a defeated expression on his face. Miles glanced at him and chuckled before approaching him.

“Turn that frown upside-down,” he grinned, ruffling up his hair for him. “God, do you have to look so formal all the time? Unbutton some buttons or loosen that tie for god’s sake.”

“I don’t want to look like a—”

“Like a what?”

Regulus didn’t say anything, scrunching up his nose and fiddling with his tie.

“Okay, y’know what?” Miles stepped forward and unbuttoned the first three buttons of Regulus’s shirt. Regulus swatted his hands away. “Okay, fine, do it yourself, then!”

Regulus huffed but loosened his tie only slightly. Miles nodded his eyes, narrowing his gaze as though to analyze his friend. “Better. Let’s go.”

The pair of them left the dungeons, Miles blabbering about his plan to woo over all of Dorcas’s friends so she would agree to be his official girlfriend instead of being in the weird situationship they were currently in. Regulus was too busy trying to resist the urge to button his shirt up to the collar.

Entering the Gryffindor’s common room made Regulus want to shrivel up into a ball and die. With it’s bright scarlet and yellow decorations, the loud music, and heavy smell of beer, he felt immensely out of place. Miles patted him on the shoulder.

“Chin up,” he muttered. “Let’s find Dorcas and avoid your brother.”

Regulus felt himself grow pale. Oh god, he thought. His brother.

They quickly found Dorcas, who adorned a neon pink skirt and bright green shirt, her coiled hair teased out into an afro that made Miles practically start drooling. Regulus stood awkwardly behind him when the pair hugged hello, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, his eyes surveying the room until they stopped on the girl standing behind Dorcas.

Miles and Dorcas were talking, they might have even said something to him, but Regulus had already zoned out; the girl behind Dorcas was wearing a short black pleated skirt, her white dress shirt unbuttoned more than it should have been, and a blue and bronze Ravenclaw tie loosely draped around her neck. Regulus blinked, staring. 

“Hey,” Miles harshly elbowed him. Regulus’s eyes snapped to Miles, then to Dorcas, and back to Miles. His face flashed with a scorching heat, his cheeks no doubt turning a bright pink. “This is Dorcas.”

“Yes, I know,” he said. Miles narrowed his brows, and Regulus cleared his throat. He offered Dorcas a nod of his head. “Hello.”

“Hiya,” Dorcas said sweetly, ignoring Regulus’s standoffishness. “I’m glad you two could make it. You want somethin’ to drink, or what?”

“Do I?” Miles asked rhetorically as Regulus stared off at the Ravenclaw girl again, who wiped her lip after taking a sip of her drink. Dorcas lead them to where the drinks were out on one of the tables, and handed them both a bottle. Miles popped his open and took a large swing, and Regulus only glanced at the label. The sticker label had been rubbed off and it now read, “PURE FUEL!”

“Sorry, what is this?” Regulus asked Dorcas loudly over the booming music. She shrugged.

“It’s probably Firewhisky mixed with the dirty Butterbeer stuff,” she told him. “I dunno, some seventh years whipped them up. Y/N might know what in it.”

“Who’s Y/N?” 

Dorcas pointed behind her to the Ravenclaw girl from earlier. Said girl glanced over, noticing the two of them looking at her, and she gave a wave. Regulus gulped and ran a hand through his hair as she came sauntering over.

“Hi,” she said, grinning. Turning to Dorcas, she asked, “What’s the pointing for?”

“He was asking what was in these,” Dorcas held up a bottle. “You know?”

“Oh, yeah,” Y/N nodded, taking another sip. Her lipstick smeared a bit. “Firewhisky and some muggle Vodka... Ciroc, it’s called. Doesn’t taste great, but get’s the job done, no?”

Dorcas laughed. “There’s your answer.”

Regulus glanced down at his bottle and grimaced. Y/N reached out and snatched it from him. When he glanced back up at her flushed face, she said, “You don’t have to drink this... we have spiked butterbeer, too, if you’d prefer that? Or just normal butterbeer if you’re not a drinker.”

“I’ll have the former, thanks,” Regulus muttered, avoiding her bright e/c eyes.  She strutted behind the table, bending over to grab a bottle from underneath the tablecloth that hid anything underneath. She handed it to him, his pale fingers brushing hers as he took it from her and popped it open. 

“Hey, aren’t you Sirius’s younger brother?” Y/N asked him, tilting her head to the side like a curious puppy. Regulus pressed his lips into a thin line. 

“Yes,” he said plainly. “Why?”

“Just curious. Thought you looked familiar,” Y/N eyed him, glancing at his eyes, then to his lips, then to his eyes again. She was awfully pretty, Regulus thought, before he clenched his jaw and glanced at his drink. “I’ve never seen you at these things, though.”

“I don’t go to parties,” he told her. “Unless they’re Slytherin.”

She scoffed. “I thought you might say something like that. In that case, you’re seriously missing out.”

“Yeah?” Regulus glanced about the room and shrugged. “Doesn’t feel like much.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head a bit. “It’s still early. Most people aren’t even drunk yet.”

Regulus said nothing to this, only taking a sip of his drink and glancing around the room, avoiding Y/N’s wandering eyes that were dancing across him. He could see her staring at him through his peripheral vision, his neck heating up at the thought of it. On the surface he felt guilty for letting a Ravenclaw and potentially not-Pureblood make him feel such a way, but deep down in his chest he didn’t care. She was beautiful.

“Oh, there’s your brother,” she nodded her head over towards the other side of the room, where Sirius and his best friend James Potter came strutting in, a flock of Gryffindors at their sides. Regulus' eyes widened.

“Bollocks,” he cursed under his breath, stepping back, partially behind Y/N.

“What, scared?” she asked jokingly. Regulus grimaced.

“I don’t want him seeing me here,” he muttered. “He’ll probably want me kicked out. Or cursed on the spot.”

Y/N frowned. “Well, then, let’s go to a different part of the room.”

“What do you mean?” Regulus gestured to the entirety of the place. When he turned his head back and forth, he could feel the delay of the world; he hadn’t gotten drunk in a while, and God knows he was a light weight. “The whole bloody place is one open room!”

“No, come with me,” she beckoned him, her hand grazing his elbow to guide him before she dropped her arm. Regulus followed her like a puppy dog, glancing back at Sirius only once before turning back. She lead him to a small part of the common room where there were a few tables with other students sitting and chatting or making out. “He probably won’t see you back here. Even if he brings someone to snog, he’ll be distracted.”

“Hm,” Regulus glanced around. He’d never admit it, but the Gryffindor common room was kind of nice. Warm.

“You’re welcome,” Y/N scoffed, taking a swig from her drink. Regulus turned red.

“Thank you,” he bowed his head. She eyed him, smirking.

“So formal,” she giggled. “Have we spoken before, Regulus?”

Woah, okay, first names, he thought. He wasn’t used to that. Besides, he didn’t even know her last name so it wasn’t like he could call her anything but Y/N at the moment.

“I don’t think so,” he said, shaking his head. “I think I’d remember if we had.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked, raising a brow. He gulped. “Why’s that?”

Regulus took another large swing from the bottle in his hands. 

“Because,” he started, unsure if he should finish. He eyed her, his grey eyes running up and down her face. “You’re quite charming.”

“Aw,” she grinned, flashing her teeth. He might have been making things up, but he could have sworn he saw her cheeks tinge light pink. “You flatter me.”

He swirled the bottle in his hand, noticing it was almost empty. He needed a stronger drink if he was going to keep up this flirting thing, he thought. But for that, he needed to go into the other room. With Sirius. His brother.

“You want another drink?” she asked. Had she read his mind? “I need one, too. C’mon, let’s go.”

Y/N grabbed him by the wrist before linking arms with him, walking with him into the other room. He couldn’t spot Sirius, but he decided he didn’t need to. He was too preoccupied with getting a stronger drink and hoping to god that Y/N couldn’t feel how hot he was getting with her hanging on his arm.

“Fire-whiskey?” she asked him. He nodded, taking the bottle from him. He clicked it open with his thumb and took a large swig. “Good boy! No more butterbeer for this guy.”

His face turned crimson from the praise, he was sure of it. He sent her a quirk of his lips, eyeing the flush of her cheeks and the brightness of her e/c eyes. She was something, wasn’t she? Not bad for a Ravenclaw.

“Fortescue!” came a booming voice from behind him. Regulus whipped his head around and felt the world delay again. It wasn’t, however, delayed enough for him to realize it was Sirius’s voice. “And my dearest brother.”

“Hello,” Y/N said, and it was then that Regulus realized she was a Fortescue. At least now he knew her last name. 

Sirius sauntered forwards towards Regulus, narrowing his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

Regulus clenched his jaw and opened his mouth to speak, but Y/N beat him to it.

“He’s with me,” she said nonchalantly. “Got a problem?”

“I didn’t know you were friends with my brother,” Sirius deadpanned.

“Yeah, well,” Regulus felt Y/N snuggle up closer to him. “Now you know.”

Sirius glanced at Regulus again. “You’re lucky, mate.”

“Sure am,” Regulus rolled his eyes. “Nice way to greet your family.”

Sirius glared at him and opened his mouth, presumably to yell either a profanity or spew some crap about how they’re not family anymore, but James Potter grabbed ahold of his arm. “Not the time, mate,” he muttered.

Sirius grumbled and let James pull him away.

“Sorry, Y/N,” James flashed a charming grin in her direction, and she smiled back. Regulus pulled her closer.

“Well, that’s that!” Y/N shrugged. “Now we don’t have to worry about him.”

“Good that,” Regulus nodded to himself. Y/N frowned.

“Don’t listen to him,” she said seriously. He glanced down at her, staring into those bright eyes of hers. “Really. You can do whatever you want and hang out with whoever you want.”

“And I am,” Regulus gave a half-smile to her, to which she beamed.

“Aw,” she nudged his shoulder. “Well, I’m happy to be your wing-woman.”

Regulus offered a real smile this time. “Thanks.”

“In the meantime,” she began, glancing up at him coyly, to which he nervously gulped and felt the blood rush down his body. “Any other ideas for the night?”

---

taglist:

@childishnewt @kaqua @pagesbetweensheets @xlucyintheskywithdiamondsx @eichenhouseproperty @niallhoransupremacy @criesinlies @fairydxll @cassiestars777 @aliyahsomerhalder

a/n: sorry, kind of lame ending, but i wanted this out of my drafts LOL

#regulus black x reader #regulus black #regulus #sirius black #harry potter #wizarding world #regulus black fanfiction #harry potter fanfictions #ravenclaw #fortescue #hp

[merlin-emrys-wyllt]

The dragon thief

Finding out that he was half dragon was quite the revelation for the young Warlock. Learning that his father was alive and a dragonlord had been enough of a shock for him. Then, after his father had died and the gift was passed on to him, Gauis gave him the even more shocking news. Not only could he communicate with and command dragons, but he was also half dragon. Then, not only did he have to hide his magic, but he also had to try even harder to hide his dragon like traits. Traits that only began to arise after the death of his father.

If he became particularly enraged, he would turn into his full dragon form. A completely black dragon with golden eyes. He wasn't particularly large, but he was still fearsome. If he got too emotional, he would take on some physical attributes of his dragon self. Such as claws, fangs, horns, scales, and golden eyes. He had a good hold of controlling and containing his magic by then, but he had to work extra hard to contain his emotions since learning of everything.

It took a while for him to realise what his hoard was. Gauis told him those like him also hoarded things like dragons did. A lot of them hoarded shiny things, or gold, or sometimes just pebbles. Merlin's hoard, of course, had to be just as unique as he was. He'd figured it out when Gwen had to go away for a few days without him. After just a few hours of her being away, he became grouchy. He couldn't sleep at all while she was away and couldn't sit still. Everyone had noticed his odd behaviour until Gwen finally returned, and he rushed to give her a huge hug. He'd finally been able to settle after that. Thus, he realised his hoard is his friends. If he didn't see them often enough and make sure they were okay, he wouldn't be happy.

It became harder as he gained more friends over the years. Their group grew even more when Arthur became king. Now, he had all of the knights to keep track of as well. He couldn't possibly get around all of his friends in one day. He refused the urge to just grab them all and keep them locked in a room where he could keep an eye on them. He wasn't going to do something like that to them. So he had had to figure something else out.

Eventually, he found out that having something belonging to his friends on him or in a little hoard in his room helped. He'd come to ssid conclusion when Lancelot had given him a gift. It was just a simple bracelet for him to wear, but he found that when he had it on, the urge to watch the knight at all times went away. He still needed to see him every few days, but his urges had lessened.

Therefore, he had begun stealing things from his friends. It started out small, a ring here, maybe a bracelet from time to time. This satisfied his needs for quite some time. A year to be exact. Then, one day, it just wasn't enough. He was unsettled once again, and he had to up his game. He began stealing things with more sentimental value to his friends. He felt bad, but he couldn't reveal anything to them. They'd hate him if he did.

Eventually, people began to notice, of course, and Arthur had to do something. He tightened security and put other measures in place to try and find the thief. None of which detered Merlin, of course. Currently, he was searching through the king's wardrobe for the man's favourite jumper. Arthur, of course, was the favoured of his hoard, so his urges were much stronger with him. He needed to steal things from the man much more often. It confused Merlin. With his other friends, the urges came because he wasn't seeing them enough. So why was it happening so much with Arthur? He saw the man all the dam time after all. He had a satchel hanging over his shoulder to put the jumper into once he found it. His back was to the door as he searched.

[chronically-enthusiastic]

Hello there, thanks for stumbling across my blog!

(Here's a lil comic I made for a school assignment)

I'm going to start putting my social energy levels in my bio... There's a lot of stuff I want to respond to but i currently dont have the energy to do so, and so if I don't respond within like a day, check my bio and see that... I always feel bad about being on tumblr when theres things people have sent me but responding to those things is a different level of interaction than reblogging a post... so yeah... Sorry to the people i havent responded to yet! I will soon <333 (writing this on low energy, sorry for the incoherence)

Who am I / Where else can you find me?

First of all, feel free to call me Eli!! I'm on the waiting list for an autism diagnosis. I am agender and aroace-spec.

I am verrryyy enthusiastic about the things I am interested in (hence the URL hehehe). And currently, those are: podcasts (theres a list at the bottom of the post), good omens, ofmd, bbc merlin, star trek!!!!, lotr, and probably more things that I am too tired to think of right now!

I am a very big fan of the oxford comma and double brackets. Semicolons are pretty cool too. And ellipses are incredible.

i love all of my mutuals dearly!! Making cookies and hot chocolate for you all <33

I try to use tone tags as much as possible!

Boundaries:

Things I am okay with sharing/doing:

My age, gender/sexuality, things about my guinea pigs!!, and most other things

Things I am not okay with sharing/doing:

The city I live in, pictures of me/anyone I know, my full name, my birthdate, my phone number/email address, meeting up with people irl, sending/receiving money/gifts, dms (<- though if we're mutuals and interacted a lot dms are fine!!)

^ this applies to everyone im not in the discord with

I will let someone know if they cross boundaries, and *really* would like other people to let me know if I cross theirs!!

DNI: people who are here to spread hate and anger. Just, stay away. I dont engage in discourse. I know DNIs dont deterr these people, but this is a demonstration of my core values :)

Updated to clarify - I do block the generic tags such as Israel and Gaza, which most of the posts are tagged with by the op, so if you forget its no big deal!!

Tags:

(At the top cause otherwise it will get lost) ALSO #tw body horror

I block quite a few tags but most notably #tw war and other ones to do with the war in israel/palestine. This is not because I don't care. I care so so so much about what is happening and I cry every time I see a post about it. It breaks my heart that such horrible things are happening. However, I really struggle with high empathy, and seeing a post about it can really affect me for a while, and I need tumblr to be a safe space away from the real world problems. If I follow you - please could you tag things to do with war. Thank you <3

A list of all the podcasts I listen to because y'know, its fun:

Fiction:

The Amelia Project

Wooden Overcoats

The Adventure Zone

Sherlock & Co

Alba Salix

Unseen

And a whole lot more that i no longer listen to either because they havent updated or they are a little too creepy (Welcome to Night Vale falls into the latter category)

Science:

The Sci Guys

Lets Learn Everything

Lingthusiasm

A podcast of unnecessary detail.

Comedy/other:

Dear Hank and John

The Unmade Podcast

Books Unbound

Lateral

A book list of recommendations from mutuals for my own use:

abigail by Magda Szasbo (@mack-anthology-mp3)

The Alphabet of Candice Phee (@jamie-dinow)

A list of music reccomendations from mutuals:

in the lap of the gods revisited by queen, why can't i be you by the cure, pyramid song, and lucky & the tourist by radiohead, when the sun hits by slowdive, dancing barefoot by patti smith, tangerine by led zeppelin, autumn sweater by yo la tengo, rubber ring by the smiths, water by pj harvey (from @/mack-anthology-mp3)

imi hendrix’s all along the watchtower (from @/catholickedd)

#pinned post #eli has a thought

[oonajaeadira]

For the Love of Fic: May 1

We made it to May!!! I’m finally feeling like I’m catching up on some stuff and a lot of that is reading. Thank you to some really lovely writers for the amazing fic I read this week....

🪐 = Year of Themed Creations work!

.

FRANKIE MORALES

untitled by @intheorangebedroom  Holy holy balls, this kinky fic came out of nowhere and just slapped my my ass into tomorrow. Competency kink, hand-on-the-stick kink... this one goes into my permanent re-read library. Geezuz I am compromised. But I also love the complete package made of Frankie here. He’s still sweet and unassuming, but when he shows his skills, he does so confidently and I’m SWOONING.

.

DIN DJARIN

Competing For Christmas 8: Every Year, Every Christmas by @something-tofightfor  The feels in this fic are so so good and every time there’s a new chapter I just swoon for more. We’re almost at the end now, and there are partings to be made and things to be said and Boba Fett is a GD king (in more ways than one). I love how Rachael has woven the Mando characters into this series and all I want now is to teach Din how wonderful a Christmas tree truly can be...

The Shallow by @insomniamamma 🪐 When J does angst she makes it more beautiful than I want it to be. Her hurt is exquisite and the love that shines in the middle of it is even brighter. At the same time, this story taps into my primal fear of space and what it can do and the laws of physics that aren’t worth tampering with. And yet...in the midst of fear and regret...that kiss is so so soft....

Crash Into Me by @grogusmum  What if Din’s home species has A/B/O dynamics and he never got to learn much about them before he was taken away and then learns suddenly one day that he’s an alpha? This. This is what happens. Without being brought up in an alpha-dominated society, he may have learned other values...soft ones...

.

PERO TOVAR 

Anytime, Anyplace, Anywhere by @littlemisspascal  I love that when the reader gets into trouble the first thing that goes through her head is an insurance jingle. And I love that it has unexpected consequences. And I love that part of the consequences is Pero in a leather jacket. Yes plz.

Wait No Longer by @lowlights  I am going to be thinking about Pero going down on me in a semi-public place for a good week after this. Damn.

.

DIETER BRAVO

Warm Up by @ezrasbirdie I love love love this soft smutty little interlude. So much. Why can’t it be me. Imagine being the woman Dieter’s madly in love with and just showing up on set in Dieter’s trailer and immediately passing out? How do you think the disaster pancake would wake you up? Correct. Go get it.

.

JACK DANIELS

You’re the Fire by @writeforfandoms Do I love Jen’s dragonrancher Jack series? Hells yes I do. Things are ramping up now and we’ve got Harry and Merlin coming into the mix and getting ready to do the Golden Circle dirty. But first, Eggsy the awkward teen dragon kind of has my whole heart...

.

JOEL MILLER

Letters and Sketches Part 1 and Part 2 by @never--doubt 🪐 I can’t even imagine how painful it would be to find your soulmate and then lose them for 20 years. I don’t know how I’d go on. But if it happened to me, I’d hope the reunion would be something like this...

Touch Memory by @omgreally​ Just a short moment, a lovely, needed, smutty moment with Joel, giving him his first go after Tess. It’s what he needs, and you both enjoy it. I know I did.

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TIM ROCKFORD AND THE THIEF

The Rockford Twins (prelude) by @beecastle !!!! I’m so so so excited for this premise! Tim and the Thief (Thomas Rockford) are twin brothers and complete opposites. I love so much that Bee sets us up for some flopped expectations, but also a sibling rivalry that is old and intense. If this is just the prelude, I cannot wait to see what’s to come!!

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JAVI GUTIERREZ

Saying I Love You Through a Movie by @songsformonkeys 🪐 I have long missed Javi and his bodyguard and they’re back!!! As usual, the pining is sweet, Javi is sweeter, and the need to protect him is strong. So strong that reader bodyguard really can’t allow themselves to give into any of Javi’s sweetness for fear of not being able to protect him...but how to resist??? I LOVE THEM SO MUCH.

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EZRA

Slow by @haylzcyon​ I can’t explain to you the chokehold this fic has on me. It’s one thing to be the girl Ezra just regularly uses with such cocky confidence, but to watch him adjust to your request--to “fuck me like you love me”--I don’t know what to say. It’s exquisite, masterful smut, with complicated and twisting feelings lurking just beneath the surface in the most intricate patterns. Holy balls. My lands. THE VAPORS.

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GUEST OF HONOR

DEATH (SANDMAN)

Death Kindly Stopped For Me by @blueeyesatnight I want you to take a moment, find somewhere quiet, and read this fic. Death has not come to do her job, but still comes when you call, when you are lonely and sick and miserable and think she is what you need. But she’s learned from humans and expanded her services, and tonight she’s come for another thing she is so good at...comfort. It’s so beautiful. My heart just loves this piece.

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#for the love of fic #triple frontier fanfic #frankie morales #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #the great wall fanfic #pero tovar #the bubble fanfic #dieter bravo #kingsman golden circle fanfic #jack whiskey daniels #agent whiskey #tlou fanfic #joel miller #merge mansion fanfic #tim rockford #casillero del diablo fanfic #the thief #tuwomt fanfic #javi gutierrez #sandman fanfic #death #prospect fanfic #ezra

[wumiings]

“I should like to see Emma in love, and in some doubt of a return; it would do her good”

…but it’s me wanting Arthur to be put in a situation where he’s forced to understand Merlin’s friendship/loyalty as something he could lose, rather than something he can take for granted regardless of how he treats him.

The few times we see Merlin consider leaving Camelot— [1] when Gaius is fired during the Edwin Muiren debacle, [2] when he’s reluctant to return after Will’s death, [3] when he plans to run away with Freya, [4] when he wants to bring Balinor back to Ealdor— Arthur doesn’t know about it.

He knows that Merlin essentially resigned when he left to help deal with Kanen (which possibly catalyzed Arthur’s decision to go after him), which makes their interactions in 1x10 particularly interesting because like,, he’s still bossing Merlin around in Ealdor, implying a mindset of “well I’m here to solve this problem for you, therefore you don’t have to stay afterwards, therefore you are still my servant despite having quit yesterday” which sure is an Assumption.

But then there’s also the armor scene that’s such a rare moment of Arthur ‘lowering’ himself to treat Merlin like an equal. Helping him prepare for battle and validating his fear, even acknowledging that same fear in himself. He shows vulnerability intentionally for Merlin’s sake and doesn’t seem embarrassed or backtrack. His actions demonstrate that he values their friendship and doesn’t want to lose it.

And then!! Merlin’s best friend- his only friend for the first fifteen years of his life- dies saving Arthur’s life, and Arthur reacts by being unforgivably callous at his funeral. Will’s body is literally still burning and Arthur is talking about how “you should have told me” because “sorcery is dangerous,” and Merlin isn’t having it!! Why should he return to Camelot when he’s just lost half his world and isn’t even given time to grieve because Arthur is already making it about Him??

Except this internal crisis plays out after Arthur has walked away; Merlin is talking to his mother. Arthur never learns that, just as his initial actions (coming to help Merlin’s village) worked to keep Merlin at his side, his later actions (being a dick about Will) might have cost him that friendship for good if Hunith hadn’t convinced Merlin to go back with the whole, “He needs you” bit.

I think he should have. He should know that his words are capable of damaging their bond, and be forced to acknowledge that it’s something he values- that he cares for Merlin as a friend and equal, not just a servant.

And he should be left in some doubt of a return; it would do him good.

#bbc merlin #analysis #1.10 #the moment of truth #arthur pendragon #prince william of ealdor #sorry for getting austenian on y’all #but I couldn’t stop thinking about it

[xfulminare]

( stark c / lewis tan / cis man & he/him ) hear ye hear ye — the riverlands welcomes lord edric stark of winterfell. king matthos baratheon is glad that the thirty - three year old appears to be honourable and he shall overlook that it’s said they are also uptight, as long as they are glad to celebrate peace in the seven kingdoms. fortunately for them, matthos remains oblivious that they ARE happy with his reign.

Name: Edric 'Ned' Stark Age: thirty-three Orientation: heterosexual, heteroromantic ( regrettably ) Loyalties: House Stark, The North Religious affiliation: Old Gods Appearance: he grew taller than his father at 6'2 and shoulders broadened to match. Dark hair and dark eyes, keeps a well trimmed beard most of the time. Gait: he walks with pride but not overbearingly so, steps can sometimes be heavy and he's not particularly graceful but walks with reluctant purpose. if he's following one of his children he's crouching down or bending over, probably hurried too. Aesthetic:

Family: -

Father: Rickard Stark Mother: tbd Stark nee Tully Siblings: Godric Stark, Lynara Stark, Arsa Stark Children: Serena Stark (9), Benjen Stark (8), Rickon Stark (7), Relina Stark (4), Lyanna Stark (3), Aryana Stark (2), Edwyn 'Little Ned' Stark (under 1) Extended family: Ayisa Tully (maternal cousin) Marital status: married to Talisa Stark nee Manderly Direwolf: Midnight (named by his daughter, Serena) also answers to Puppy & Fluffy but only if it's the youngest Starks. Talisa calls him Seal.

PERSONALITY: -

Traits: cautious, attentive, protective, worrisome, loyal, steadfast, disciplined, generous, sceptical, principled, just, incorruptible ( maybe ) Values: he was raised to do the decent thing and so he values the same trait in others. he doesn't appreciate being lied to ( although he's not always able to discern when that is happening ) and believes that a man's word is his bond. Fears: since he was eight years old he had feared the death of his family, mostly at the hands of southerners. now that he is older and he has children to worry about as well as his siblings this fear has only grown. he worries about his father in king's landing and what attention his role as hand will bring them all. Moral Alignment: lawful good Temperament: phlegmatic Zodiac: taurus sun, cancer moon, libra rising Inspiration: ned stark ( asoiaf ), robb stark ( asoiaf ), hector ( the iliad ) and a little bit of aragorn ( lotr ), lancelot ( merlin )

BIOGRAPHY: -

tl;dr - the weight of the future of the north and house stark weighs heavily upon him. he feels the responsibility keenly and his cautious nature makes him reluctant to break from tradition. losing his aunt, uncle and grandfather has made him hesitant of going south and he cannot help but believe that nothing good happens to a northerner who goes south. soft and something of a pushover with his family, the same way that his direwolf is, but that doesn't mean everyone is afforded the same grace. in everything he does ned tries to embody the north that he will one day lead, he stands for the honour and pride of its people but can also be as hard and cold as its ice.

with all the hours he played at shadowing his father it was inevitable that he would take on some of rickard stark's traits. but it was more than just imitation and following his father's lead, ned truly was his father's son. the importance of tradition was impressed upon him and the first time he watched his father swing a sword over his head in the name of justice, he knew that he wanted to be able to uphold their laws with the same tenacity.

the deaths of his aunt, uncle and grandfather would always hang over him. he was eight years old when events begun to unfold and remembers it vividly. how they'd gone south while he'd stayed behind and not returned. how winterfell would never echo with his aunt's laughter, how his uncle would never tease him about his form when they sparred and how any wisdom his grandfather might have had for him would be forever lost.

their absence was felt keenly and so he found himself clinging more tightly to his siblings, showing that he was his mother's son too with how often he embodied her house's motto of family, duty, honour. they became his tenants to live by as he grew older, having lost family members so young he wanted nothing more than to keep those he had left as close to him as possible. he held his siblings close, always thawing him out before he could let himself get too cold.

whether he would have always been an old soul or that was a fate inflicted upon him by grief is a question that will never be answered. but ned tended to be on the serious side growing up, shunning some types of fun in the name of honour. the only ones who could successfully get him to bend the rigid bars he restrained himself with were his family but mostly calon greyjoy, once he'd convinced the ironborn to warm up to him.

duty came for him later in life when the betrothal that had been a certainty for so long finally became inevitable. he had been determined to be a good husband no matter what he felt for his bride to be but when he met talisa it was almost love at first sight. it wasn't just her obvious beauty that drew him but the fact that they seemed like a perfect match - her freeness balancing his caution.

the only rule he broke ( more like bent ) was the feelings he had for his bride to be leading to them sharing before the wedding, the union resulting in their daughter being born swiftly after their wedding. so taken with both his daughter and his wife, more two children followed before a brief break was taken for more to follow again.

he balances the role of father with the one of lord, ever learning from his father until the death of mychel arryn called rickard south. the childhood anxiety that had ebbed with the flow of years began to rise once more. nothing good happens to a stark in the south is a sentiment he feels deep in his gut and he does his best to continue to lead the north in the absence of his father.

HEADCANONS: -

he didn't enjoy his weapon lessons until his uncle cregan began teaching him. it wasn't anything that his father did wrong, just his uncle found a way to simplify things and make it more fun. after his death he struggled to take it back up but continued to do so in the hope he could be remembered as a great swordsman.

he believes that his word is his bond and he will hold others to theirs also. there have been times where this has been used against him, drunken lapses in judgement being exploited for other's gain ( looking at you calon greyjoy )

more to come, maybe

#wolves on a stark's aesthetic? groundbreaking #conquest.intro #the harder the world the fiercer the honour || ned

[fratricideknight]

top 5 merlin characters go !

AHHHH I LOVE THEM ALL I CAN'TTTTTT. bc i adore them all, i'll name them in no particular order depending on how compelling i think they are.

i can say that lancelot is my favourite in every way. listen. he's just so lovely and cool and softly spoken. and i just. i make jokes about him being perfect, but i honestly don't think he is. i might not like him if he was. he's sad and overly devoted to the point of self-ruin, and his humility and endless pursuit of nobility sometimes do more harm than good. e.g. when he left gwen bc arthur liked her without asking how she felt. he's "everything the knight's code stands for" so he's also something of an examination of the knight's code and its ethics?? where those ethics fail, where the rules must be bent for the sake of goodness (for instance, lance keeping merlin's secret even though he hates lying). which, of course, i want to see when watching a medieval chivalry show. he's just so compelling to me. he's just like me fr. i, in no way, shape or form, self-insert as sir lancelot. absolutely none. he was so underutilised. i was robbed of self-insert content. i am normal about him. not to mention his dynamic with every character he interacted with was gold. he deserved to spend time with more characters. e.g. morgana. i would KILL to have an arc about his response to the oppression of magic users and morgana's ideology. he trusts in systems of power and wants so desperately to be a knight of camelot - how would he respond when that quite possibly contradicts the righteous course of action?? which is more important to him?? would he be swayed by the allegiances of the people he loves, thereby showing a major chink in his nobility?? please. i need this to be explored more in fanon.

okay listen. gaius. it's widely acknowledged that his dynamic with uther is almost the grown-up version of merlin and arthur's. by the time season 5 rolls around, merlin has been groomed very well into becoming the next gaius. he would watch his kin burn at the stake for the sake of a "promised kingdom" "a better future" which he is convinced will be brought about by arthur even if he hates magic. literally what gaius did. he was kept alive despite practicing magic bc he was uther's friend and confidant. but he isn't just loyal to uther in the way that merlin becomes doggedly loyal to arthur. he also adores merlin. it's super interesting to think about where the hope for the chosen one who will help arthur unite albion ends and his devotion to his surrogate son begins. if he had to choose between merlin and arthur, who would he choose? has he been utterly sucked in by the prophecy like merlin eventually is or does he retain enough love for merlin that he would toss it aside? i need answers

morgana was done so, so unbelievably dirty. but she's so fucking interesting. i'm just gonna toss aside botched canon characterisation for a sec and talk about her arc like it was done well. she was uther's beloved ward, valued but (bc she didn't know she was his daughter) dispensable, unlike arthur. maybe uther would never execute his son, the crown prince and sole heir, but her? uther is so mad with hatred and emotionally withdrawn that she can't possibly know where she stands. she's plagued by haunting dreams which she swears show the future but can't discuss openly, with absolutely no one to turn to. her attempt to connect with the druids ends in their being slaughtered. when she finally knows she has magic, she is forced to watch her own father figure execute people like her, alone and scared. no one tells her anything, she is in the dark and utterly alone. she clings to the first person who tries to connect with her, who also happens to be her sister - a family relation who isn't, at least outwardly, pro murdering sorcerers. then her own friend, who tells her nothing, fucking poisons her. no explanation. the only one she receives is no doubt a twisted one from morgause. before, she was conflicted by her love for uther to the point that she couldn't go through with killing him, but when she finally reaches a stage where she must resolve to murder her own surrogate father because he's a horrible tyrant, she's the villain. she's told that it's not right to kill him, that she should stand by and watch him kill. by people she considered allies. then she learns that this bastard is actually her father ;_; and then the whole "mOrGanA wANtS tHe ThRonE" "sHe'S jUsT lIkE uThEr" arc begins and it all goes downhill. (it is absolute bullshit that morgana coveted power that badly 💀 she wanted to live in the woods with the druids before they were all murdered before her eyes. if she wants power, it's so she can change things, not for selfish reasons.) the writers had to make her do drastic, ooc things like shooting innocent citizens of camelot to turn her into a villain, bc she simply wasn't wrong lmaoooo. the girl who handed out food to the poor and rode out to defend a village outside of camelot's borders for her friend's sake suddenly despises both the people and her friends. feelings do not suddenly change that drastically, i'm afraid. if they added in something about morgause brainwashing her, it would make so much more sense, but if they did that then morgana would be a tragic antagonist and WE CAN'T HAVE THAT!!! SHE MUST MAKE POTIONS WITH BABIES' GUTS JUST BECAUSE!!!

nimueh was only around for one season but she was so interesting. she's kind of a mix between gaius and morgana. used to be uther's friend, but after being betrayed by him became vindictive. she, too, was labelled a villain for attempting to strike out at a nasty tyrant 💀 young women on this show are either arthur's love interests or villains, istg. instead of playing the "why did she go about hurting uther in an evil way?" card like i did with morgana, bc we never saw her before she turned "evil" and therefore cannot speak on the legitimacy of her characterisation, i'm just going to accept that she's willing to make innocent people suffer to hurt uther. in that way, the writers could have drawn a contrast between her and morgana; nimueh goes about bringing uther down in an immoral way, whereas morgana is righteous in her actions. but ofc. we can't have that. speaking again about her relationship with uther: she gives some level of insight into the person he was and the person he became. he wasn't brought up to hate magic but rather came to that - utterly illogical - conclusion on his own and was willing to toss aside a loyal friend and an entire group of people bc he could not bear the consequences of his own actions.

everything seems to come back to uther. he's at the centre of it all, the main driving force. without him the plot simply would not exist. he's irredeemable, literally a genocidal murderer. not to mention a man who betrays his friends and unfairly pressures his son and to an extent values his pride above his people. there is no redemption arc for him. which makes these little glimpses of something else so interesting. a broken husband mourning his wife, a father worried for his son, a man haunted by visions of what he did. the concept that he built camelot from the ground up commends him as a good ruler, and to an extent he is. he's jaded, and makes heartless but practical decisions, unlike arthur in the early seasons, but ultimately he cares for the kingdom over his own son. as time goes on and arthur's burden increases, even he - our lovable hero - becomes more like uther. how did uther's rise to power change him like arthur's did? i wonder if uther built camelot with magic and what tearing out that essential pillar of his kingdom felt like. if he feels lost without its support, if he regretted his decision but his pride and the weight of what he'd already done just caused him to double down harder to avoid holding himself accountable. again, he's irredeemable, but he deserves good faith character analysis which many people don't afford him in favour of calling him profanities. understandable - but still.

it genuinely caused me great amounts of pain to choose. i mean it when i say i love all of them, and could wax poetic about them as characters. i think the reason 3 of the core 4 aren't on the list is bc they were around for so long that the writers had plenty of time to botch their arcs and it was just so much more pronounced with them. the way arthur wasn't allowed to hold an intelligent thought for more than 2 seconds?? the way gwen was gradually reduced to just "star-crossed love interest"?? it frustrates me so much that i'm not naming them just to be petty tbh. morgana suffered the worst, imo. they did her so dirty that i just want to toss aside canon and talk about her potential.

anyway. apologies for that essay. thanks for asking!!!

#sir lancelot #gaius the physician #morgana pendragon #nimueh the high priestess #uther pendragon #bbcm meta #bbc merlin #mine #askbox

[theforgottenmcrmy]

Birds of a Feather (Chapter 4/?) ||| Bradley Bradshaw

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Sam “Merlin” Wells’ Daughter OC

Warnings: Angst, Mentions and Death of Parent(s), Explicit Language, Non-Explicit Sexual References.

Summary: “No,” he answered, his tone one that left little room for argument. “You’ve had a lot on your mind, it isn’t your fault. If he shows up, so be it. We have nothing to say to each other. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to stop me from being here for you right now.”

Word Count: 10,700 ish.

DISCLAIMER: Spoilers for Top Gun and Top Gun: Maverick ahead.

Masterlist /// Chapter 1 /// Chapter 3 /// Chapter 4 /// Chapter 5

A/N: I’m just gonna post this one and run...👀

Two quick things I wanted to note before this chapter... 1) I always guessed that at some point, Carole would have distanced herself from everyone who knew Goose and would have been likely to check up on her and Bradley (i.e. Ice), with the exception of Maverick, of course. I went with that assumption for this story. And 2) As much as Ice covered Maverick’s ass and bailed him out of trouble over the years, I have a hard time believing that Admiral Tom Kazansky would have just *allowed* Maverick to pull Bradley’s Naval Academy application, had he known about it at the time. So, for the purposes of this story, let’s say Ice didn’t know about it, and instead, he found out about it later, and/or Maverick eventually came clean about it.

Again, thank you all so very much for your support of this story. It really means a lot to me. I hope you all have a good rest of the week.💙💙💙

Chapter 4: What You’re Made Of

NAS Oceana

Virginia Beach, Virginia

2 years ago

…

In almost all aspects, Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw was very thankful for how far he had come in life. Though he avoided thinking about it too much, as doing so felt like tempting fate, that still didn’t make the notion any less true.

Professionally, he’d accomplished everything he set out to achieve this far. Not letting his failure to be admitted to the Academy set him back, he forged through an NROTC program at a college in his new home state. He worked his ass off academically and physically in the program, and was fortunate enough to be placed in the very competitive service area of his choice.

His hard work didn’t stop there, and he continued to grind throughout flight school and training, desperate to prove himself and holding onto the hope that good scores and performance would have even just a little bit of sway among the decision makers, and possibly have his opinion of what he would prefer to fly be heard. Fortunately, his minuscule vote had been considered by his superiors, and, after all that hard work, it could finally be said, to put it very simply, that he flew fighter jets for a living. 

After training in Lemoore, he was assigned to VFA-87. Not only did he feel respect amongst the rest of the squadron, though not without some good natured ribbing from the rest of his squadron mates, of course, but he also felt valued, too. There had been a few deployments, and he had been very grateful to return back to the States safe and in one piece.

But in his opinion, the shining moment in Bradley’s career by far had been being sent to TOPGUN. Not even having to attend the prestigious Fighter Weapons School with Lt. Jake Seresin- now appropriately going by the callsign of “Hangman”- had been enough to dampen his mood or otherwise ruin the experience for him. They’d gone head to head, back and forth between first and second place in the class throughout the entire almost 3 month program, and Hangman had managed to pull ahead of him right at the end of it. But even though he had finished second in the class behind Hangman, words could not express how grateful Bradley was to have just finished the program at all.

Personally, Bradley was very satisfied as well. In terms of friends, he’d made plenty of them out of his colleagues along the way. Though he didn’t get to see a lot of them nearly as much as he would have liked, it was the nature of the job, and whenever they were able to reconnect or touch base, it was easy to fall back into the rhythm and continue as though no time had passed between them.

In terms of family… Well, that could always have been improved. Losing both of one’s parents before the age of eighteen wasn’t ideal in any situation. But he still had his grandmother, and even though she was on the decline physically, mentally, she was still as sharp as a whip. He always made a point to visit her whenever he had some leave and help her out around the house with whatever she needed.

In terms of those less than favorable in his eyes, Bradley had been very lucky to avoid running into one Captain Mitchell for years, despite the often tight circle that their careers kept them in. With some more luck, that would continue to be the case until the old man retired, or in case he decided not to reenlist, in another few years.

Romantically? …

… That was perhaps the one area of Bradley’s life that still left something to be desired. But there was one tiny hiccup that prevented him from finding any significant happiness in that area of his life.

He was completely, undeniably, and hopelessly in love with Clara Wells.

Eventually, he’d come to realize that he had been for years. Though Bradley couldn’t pinpoint exactly when the feelings of such a strong nature had kicked in internally, he knew that they’d existed for a few years at minimum, at least since the one night they’d gotten to spend together. It was a night that had not been discussed or even addressed by either of them in the over two years since it happened.

Bradley tried to move on from Clara, as he had suggested would happen if they just indulged themselves for that one evening. But, unsurprisingly, that plan had backfired miserably.

He had since allowed himself to keep an open mind, and he would no longer politely turn down pretty women who approached him at bars or elsewhere. He wasn’t looking for anything serious, but he was open to the idea of feeling something, anything, really, other than the numbness that suppressing his true feelings resulted in. But sad as it was, when the fling was over and done with for one reason or another, Bradley always found himself thinking about her.

Since the squadron Clara had been assigned to, VFA-103, was based at NAS Oceana as well, he’d been given more opportunities to see her than he could have hoped for. Even though deployments and other intermittent assignments and missions kept them apart more often than not, Bradley still got to see her. And who was he to deny his “buddy” some quality time? There were always bars to hit, pianos that needed playing, and beers ample enough to help him bury his true feelings and keep up his exclusively-friendly facade he resigned himself to.

When they weren’t able to see each other in person, texting, phone calls, and even writing letters kept them connected whenever possible. It was an odd type of punishment he inflicted upon himself, but Bradley didn’t have the heart to not return Clara’s messages or calls… even if doing so might have been the only way for him to begin to move on.

Bradley had wrestled with the idea of just telling Clara the truth of his feelings, many times over the years, but something always stopped him. But one day, when he woke up to a text message from Clara with some obscure Back to the Future reference, he made up his mind then and there.

He was going to tell her he loved her.

Bradley had no idea what to say or how to tell Clara, but fortunately, he had some time to mull that over.

Clara, or “Parrot”, as she was often referred to now, had been fresh off a second deployment when she got word that she would be going to TOPGUN. She’d been so happy, and it had been extremely contagious. A weird combination of pride and worry culminated in Bradley upon hearing the news, but at the end of the day, he had kept quiet in lieu of seeing her smile. Clara had already been gone for nine of the thirteen weeks of the program, and had tentative plans to take some leave and visit her father in Chicago upon her return.

So, until then, Bradley would bide his time. He’d answer her calls whenever he could, and he would happily listen to her talk to him about the challenging coursework, the colorful classmates, and the new friends she made.

…

Speak of the devil. Bradley chuckled to himself as he began typing out his response to the incoming text.

Bradley glanced at the time. With the time difference, it was starting to cut it a little bit close.

Just as Bradley was about to put his phone back down and focus on the paperwork in front of him, it buzzed once again.

He couldn’t help but smile to himself.

…

There would never be a perfect moment to tell Clara what he was feeling. But that was okay.

Bradley would take the next opportunity he had, and just try to make the best of it.

It’d been a close call.

Maybe not the closest call ever, but definitely the closest one that came to Clara’s memory. No moments in any deployment had come close.

Her pilot, Dana “Slugger” Harris, had a near miss with another F/A-18F. In her defense, it hadn’t necessarily been her fault- the pilot in the other plane was initially held responsible. His head must’ve been somewhere else- he came out of seemingly nowhere. Add a little bit of miscommunication and misdirection into the mixture following the near miss, and the incident was almost gravely volatile. All four of them involved were likely to be knocked down a bit in the class ranking because of their failure to properly locate the other plane and put some safe distance between them.

Clara couldn’t really blame Dana for the incident, or for the fact that she was a little shaken up afterwards. She had been there too, after all. But Dana had almost always been cool, calm, and collected. The young woman had a steely nature, and besides from a few incidents, one of which had played a role in earning  her her call sign, she was level headed.

Dana was a reliable and dependable pilot, and Clara often found herself thanking whoever was watching above that their superior officers had decided to keep the two of them flying together over the past few years. Of all the pilots Clara could have been assigned to fly with, she had majorly lucked out with Dana. She felt the safest in the air she had since the very beginning of flight school, despite the truly dangerous nature of the job.

… There was no good explanation for what had happened during the hop that day. Despite the unfortunate timing and place of it, it had to have just been a bad day for everyone all around.

As their pilots were inside the office of the instructor of the hop, presumably discussing the details what had happened, Clara, and the other pilot’s WSO, Robert “Bob” Floyd, waited outside in the hallway.

Bob had become a good friend over her relatively short tenure at the program. He was easily one of the kindest people the Navy had ever allowed her to meet, and he was damn good at his job. Though she was looking forward to graduation, she would dread the day that Bob and her would have to return to their respective squadrons. She would miss the pleasure of his company.

Clara couldn’t help but feel a little bit guilty on Bob’s behalf. Though neither of them had technically been directly involved in the incident that had occurred during the hop, they’d still been present, and whenever the pilots’ communication failed or was otherwise lackluster, it was well within the realm of the WSOs responsibility to step up to the plate. Clara took it especially hard on herself/ Though her tendency to talk too much had gotten her into some trouble early on in the career, since her advanced training and beyond, it had proven to be one of her assets. It’d even played a role in how she had earned her call sign- Parrot.

Clara snuck a glance at Bob. He looked about as nervous as she felt. Though she was not looking forward to the chewing out they were surely about to receive, ashamedly, that was not what had her stomach in knots as the minutes ticked away in the nearly silent hallways.

Getting reprimanded was one thing, and so was possibly being moved down in class ranking. But the few moments of impending doom Clara had felt was something else entirely. She could’ve been toast, for a lack of better words. And if she had been, she never would have gotten the closely guarded secret off her chest, the one she’d been keeping for years.

She was thoroughly, unquestionably, and terribly in love with Bradley Bradshaw.

Surprise, surprise, their half-brained scheme to “get it out of their system” had not been successful. Though they had never, ever discussed it, In the over two years since the one evening had transpired, Bradley had never strayed too far from her brain.

Clara tried to rid herself of the mental hold Bradley had on her. She tried seeing others, and she was open to the idea of keeping her options open. But she always found herself coming back to him. Though things with Bradley were complicated, in another sense, they were easy. No one else knew her like he did. No one else could make her laugh like he did. And, besides her father, no one else had been ever to make her feel as worthy and reassured in her career as he had been able to.

Even if she had committed to finding something serious with someone else, Clara knew she would be hard pressed to leave her friendship with Bradley in the past. Bradley Bradshaw, or “Rooster”, as he was better known as now, had come to mean many things to her over the years. Their friendship was the one last thing she could hold onto. Though deployments and occasional missions kept them apart for good amounts of time, they had been fortunate enough to be assigned to separate squadrons that were still assigned to the same base. Seeing Bradley in passing for a few days and weeks here and there was far better than being cut off from him entirely. And when physically seeing one another was impossible, they still found other ways to keep in touch.

The epiphany that resulted from the training incident made one thing perfectly clear: Clara would have to come clean to Bradley about what she was feeling. Texting wouldn’t do, and  neither would a letter. As uncomfortable as it had the possibility of being, she knew that a face to face conversation would be the most appropriate course of action… She was planning on putting in for some leave after graduating from TOPGUN and returning back to base. Perhaps she could speak to Bradley before she left, and then they would both have some time to process it all.

..

Before Clara could internally fret anymore about her predicament, the door opened, and both pilots filed out, followed by their instructor. The pilots passed her and Bob, but Clara caught an odd look that Dana subtly threw in her direction.

She couldn’t tell exactly what it meant, but she had a good idea. Dana and Clara, and Bob and his pilot, had been vying back and forth for the top spot in the class. Clara didn’t even want to think about the feast that the third runner up pilot and WSO would have upon their failure come the following morning.

“Lieutenant Wells.”

Clara stood to attention, reminded of the presence of their superior officer and instructor. “Yes, ma’am?”

“You are to report to the Vice Admiral’s office immediately,” the woman directed. She glanced at Bob beside her. “Lieutenant Floyd, I’ll be speaking with you now.”

As their instructor turned to re-enter her office, Clara gave Bob a look that conveyed the dread that suddenly filled her.

“I’ll meet up with you later,” Clara said to him under her breath. Even as she spoke the words, they felt ill-fated.

Bob nodded in confirmation, still visibly nervous, and followed their instructor inside her office. As the door shut firmly behind him, Clara knew she had no choice but to force her feet forward.

…

There were only a few reasons why Clara would have been summoned to speak with the Vice Admiral, and none of the ones she was able to come up with meant anything good at all. As she made her way to the Vice Admiral’s office, the realization that she had been the only one involved in the incident that afternoon to receive such a summons only furthered her dread and fear of what was to come.

Perhaps Clara had misinterpreted the incident in the afternoon. Perhaps she had played more of a role than what she realized. Perhaps this was the beginning of the end, marking a large failure in her career that would result in the disappointment of the rest of her squadron. And her father… shit, her father. How was she going to break this news to him?

When Sam Wells had heard about his daughter’s acceptance to TOPGUN, he’d been over the moon, and so damn proud. Between the deployment and being sent to TOPGUN immediately after, Clara hadn’t been able to see him in almost a year. But her father already planned to attend the graduation, if he could get the time off work. And even if he wasn’t able to, she was very much looking forward to going home and spending some time with him once she returned back to base and could put in for some leave.

The thought of disappointing her father by being kicked out of the program before graduation made Clara seriously contemplate finding the nearest trash can.

Eventually, the Vice Admiral’s office came into sight, and Clara knew that there was no turning back. She was many things, but a coward was not one of them… at least not in regards to her career.

No further comment on any other aspect of her life.

The Vice Admiral’s door was open, and as soon as she approached the threshold, his deep voice invited her inside. “Lieutenant Wells- you can come in. Shut the door behind you.”

Clara did as directed, and entered his office. It was a spacious room, with many windows that let in plenty of natural light. In any other situation, she would have been honored to have been called into the room. But in the current one, her surroundings felt all the more imposing.

“At ease. Would you like to take a seat?” Vice Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson offered.

Though his offer sounded genuine enough, Clara’s initial thought was that it was a test. “No, thank you, sir.”

“Take a seat, Lieutenant.”

The Vice Admiral’s subtle shift in tone left no room for argument. Clara promptly did as instructed, sitting in the chair across the desk from where he was seated himself. She looked at him straight on, not wanting to show any possible sign of disrespect or give him any indication that she was anywhere close to as fearful as she actually was.

He regarded her carefully, analyzing her briefly as she settled in the seat. The look in his eyes was not one of anger, or even disappointment, but it wasn’t something she could place, either. It was, however, remotely similar to the strange look Dana had given her in passing not even ten minutes before.

“Do you know why I’ve called you in here today, Lieutenant?”

Though she had several theories, Clara opted for the most obvious one so as to not waste his time. “I believe it would have something to do with the training exercise today, sir.”

“Unfortunately, it does not,” he responded. “But I was made aware of that. As I’m sure you know, I’ve been told that your instructor will be calling in the rest of those involved in the incident and will be discussing the details of it with each of you. That is to say, if she has not already done so.”

Clara spared a thought for Bob, who was probably being given a lecture at that very moment. Poor Bob. She would’ve offered to swap places with him in heartbeat, both to save him from the reprimanding and her from the tense one-on-one conversation with the Vice Admiral.

“I’m sure Slugger will be able to fill you in on the nature of that discussion, in due time,” the Vice Admiral added.

… In due time? “Yes, sir.”

He paused, and let out a light sigh. “There is no easy way to give you this information Lieutenant, but it is my duty to inform you of something that has happened.”

Clara felt her heart sink. Her mind raced through anything, everything in her past career and personal life that could have caused such an issue that she would receive a special talking to from the Vice Admiral. However, she kept coming up blank.

“Before I give you this news, I want you to know that you have the full support of your superior officers and instructors. No one wants to see you fall behind in this program, or even fail to graduate. We have all agreed to do whatever necessary within our power to work with you to see to it that neither of those things happen, should you be in agreement with that and choose to continue on.”

The nerves didn’t help at all, and Clara couldn’t help but space out at the Vice Admiral’s subtle words. When the haze finally lifted, she realized he was looking at her expectantly, waiting on some sort of response or indication from her that she had heard him.

“What is it, sir?” she inquired quietly.

“... It’s about your father.”

The house didn’t look so different, despite the passing years.

After a series of quick, but polite, rapt of the knuckles on the front door, there were a few moments of patient waiting that followed. The door opened shortly after, revealing a middle aged woman.

Bradley was taken aback. Though Clara had always joked and insisted that she looked more like her mother than she ever did her father, that fact was made abundantly clear upon the realization that Bradley was then face to face with her aunt. Clara had talked about her late mother’s sister plenty of times, but he had never seen the woman before. In person, it was very easy to see the resemblance between them.

“Good morning,” the woman greeted, eyeing him up and down curiously. “Can I help you with something?”

“I was hoping to see Clara, Ma’am.”

Recognition flashed across the woman’s face, and she gave him a small, tired smile. “You must be Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

She knew him. Bradley made a mental note to address that later. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Please, come in,” the woman insisted, opening the door wider and allowing him to enter. She closed the door behind him, and added, “She’s in the study.”

Bradley nodded wordlessly, already knowing exactly where to go. As he headed down the hallway, he noticed that the walls that had once been decorated were now bare. He didn’t hesitate before the open doorway, but instead entered the room slowly, unafraid and with purpose. He’d been preparing for this moment ever since he’d first heard the news. And once he had, he knew he had to go to her. Even if Bradley hadn’t already made a promise to check on her, there was not one part of him that would rest until he saw her himself.

Clara’s back was facing him, and she was focused on something he couldn’t quite see. Unsure of what to say, he took a few slow steps toward her instead.

She must’ve heard his footsteps, because she turned around to face him.

Clara looked worse for the ware, not that Bradley would have expected any less. Dark circles under her puffy red eyes were the most alarming sign that her own well-being had taken a backseat to everything else she had been dealing with over the past few days.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked, eyes wide with surprise, her voice slightly raspy.

“I had some leave,” he answered simply.

Clara’s brows furrowed, as if his explanation was less than satisfactory. “You took some leave to come to a funeral for some Lieutenant you didn’t even really know?”

“No,” Bradley corrected, patiently yet firmly. “I took leave to be with my friend who just lost her father.”

At the mention of it, Clara’s lip trembled and her eyes darted away. “I’ll be fine, really,” she said dismissively. Bradley believed her words would ring true in time, but at that moment, he knew they didn’t carry any weight. “Honestly, I shouldn’t even really be this upset… Especially not when your father-“

“Don’t,” Bradley begged, taking another step closer to close the distance between them. “Don’t do that to yourself. Don’t write off your feelings. He was your father, Clara. You have every right to grieve for him.”

When she finally met his eyes again, Bradley saw that hers were filled to the brim with tears. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it shortly after.

Sparing her any more discomfort by searching for what to say next, Bradley took a final step forward. Before he had even opened his arms fully, she embraced him, tightly wrapping her arms around his middle as the side of her face pressed tightly against his chest.

Bradley placed one hand comfortingly over her hair and the other on her back as he allowed her as much time as she needed. He did nothing as Clara finally allowed herself to break down. He didn’t bat an eye at the vice-like grip on him that made it slightly difficult to breathe, or the dampness quickly forming on the front of his shirt.

He glanced around the room, which used to be her father’s study. A box behind her indicated that Clara was in the process of packing up its contents. But what caught Bradley’s attention most were the walls, which were not yet bare.

Though they had once adorned the walls in the hallway, the display cases that held all of Mr. Wells’ awards, ribbons, and patches, along with his many, many photos, had been moved to decorate the walls of the study instead. And now, they were joined by some of Clara’s own belongings.

There was a photo of her at graduation, standing next to Bradley as the duo gave the camera particularly cheesy smiles. Another photo was of Clara alone; a headshot of her in her service dress uniform. A third photo, which had yet to be hung, rested on top of Mr. Well’s desk. It was a polaroid, also of Clara, and it was far more recent than any of the other photos. In fact, she must have mailed it to him recently, he realized. In the photo, she was standing in front of the Fighter Weapons School sign, pointing at it with one hand while giving the camera a thumbs up with the other.

While the collection was small, it was obviously one well thought and taken care of. It was a collection of someone who was proud. Had Mr. Wells had more time, and had Clara been further along in her career, Bradley had no doubt that the walls would have been decorated with even more of her photos and whatever other effects Mr. Wells could gather.

For the briefest of moments, he dared to wonder whether either, or both, of his parents would have done the same for him. But he didn’t have to dwell on that thought too long- he knew in his heart that they would have.

Clara pulled back, but made no move to remove herself from his arms just yet.

As Bradley looked down at her, he couldn’t help but frown. Though the dark circles under her eyes had been evident from across the room, they were even more plain to see up close, and his concern for her continued to grow.

“When’s the last time you got some sleep?”

Clara took a step back then, and when she did, Bradley let his arms fall back down to his sides. She wiped at the tears slipping from her eyes with the bottom of her palms. “I haven’t really. There’s been too much to do.”

Bradley was disappointed, but he could hardly give her too much grief. Not only would it be hypocritical, but he also got the feeling that she was sensing the lecture was coming. She glanced at him, waiting for his next words patiently. At that moment, Bradley felt reassured that coming to see her had not been a mistake. Maybe she needed him just as much as he felt the need to be there for her. “If you had to guess, how much sleep have you gotten?”

Clara shrugged, averting his gaze as she turned back around to proceed to pack various items into the box on the floor. “A couple hours, here and there.”

“It’s been two days, Clara.”

“Almost three, technically.”

Bradley took a step forward and placed a light hand on her shoulder. The simple gesture was enough to get her to pause her actions and turn around to face him once again. When she did, he placed both of his hands on her upper arms in an effort to steady her and have her focus on him.

Clara’s chin tilted up towards him, and her watery eyes met his own once again. Before he realized what he was doing, his hands drifted upwards, and his thumbs lightly swiped at the circles underneath her eyes absentmindedly.

“You need sleep, Darling,” he murmured softly.

If she minded his actions, or the term of endearment that slipped off his tongue, she didn’t show it. Clara shook her head softly. “I can’t. I need to pack. I need to get everything in boxes, and then I have to get it all to a storage unit until I can come back and actually sort through it all-”

“I can pack boxes just fine. I’ve done it a time or two myself, you know.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, not when you’ve come all the way out here on your own time.”

“You don’t have to ask- I’m volunteering.”

Clara sighed and gave him a look, but Bradley could tell her frustration with him was surface-level at best. After a moment, she relented with a small nod. “Okay… but just for a little bit.”

Bradley gently guided her out of the room, down the hallway, and towards her childhood bedroom. He opened the door from her, and politely ushered her inside. The room was very much the same as the last time he had seen it, despite the passing time, much like the rest of the house.

There was a new addition to the room, though, one that Bradley recognized almost immediately. One of the paper-bound textbooks for TOPGUN laid on top of the bed’s comforter. He hoped Clara hadn’t been studying in lieu of getting some sleep, but the textbook being opened to a page several chapters in told him all that he needed to know.

“Maybe I just need to relax for a little bit,” Clara said then, suddenly eyeing the textbook longingly. “I can still take it easy while I study.”

“What?” Bradley questioned, stunned that she had even suggested such a thing. “No. You need to rest. You need to get some sleep.”

“I need to keep studying, or else I’m going to fall behind,” she argued, walking over to the bed.

Bradley beat her to it, crossing the room in fewer strides and carefully, but swiftly, swiping up the book and closing it before Clara could get it within her reach.

She frowned at him angrily, but Bradley held his ground. He knew what she was doing, whether Clara knew it or not. Not everyone was comfortable addressing grief head-on, especially grief so fresh. It wasn’t unheard of for one to throw themselves fully into something else as a means of a distraction from properly dealing with a loss. Hell, Bradley had done that very same thing himself when his mother had died. While he didn’t necessarily want Clara to wallow, her basic needs, namely sleep at that moment, still needed to be met. And if she wasn’t going to see to it, he was.

“I’ll give this back to you in a few hours, after you’ve gotten some sleep,” he promised, still holding the book out of her reach.

“But-”

“And if I have too, I’ll help you study,” Bradley added persuasively. Though there had been a non-serious running gag between them about who, if either of them, would get to TOPGUN first, it was the first moment that Bradley was genuinely happy that it had been him. It was just another way he could try to be of use to her.

Clara’s frown slowly disappeared from her face. She relented, and finally climbed onto the bed.

Bradley watched her get comfortable for a moment, wanting to make sure she had finally given up on the thought of trying to study instead. “Do you need anything?”

“No,” she whispered, her eyes closing as soon as her head hit the pillow.

“I’m going to get you some water, anyway,” he informed her. “Be right back.”

Bradley turned and slowly left the room, dropping off the textbook on the nearby dresser before heading down the hallway. He entered the kitchen, where he ran into her aunt. After informing her what had happened, and that he would be helping them pack up, the woman looked relieved, and thanked him. Though he should have expected as much, it gave him comfort to know that Clara still had someone looking out for her.

When Bradley returned to her bedroom, it appeared as though Clara was already fast asleep. He set the glass of water down on the nightstand beside the bed, and gently placed a blanket that had been at the foot of the bed overtop of her.

As he turned to leave, he heard a soft, wistful, “Thank you, Brad.”

Bradley looked down at Clara, whose eyes were still closed, with a soft, sympathetic smile. “Anytime, Darling.”

In the end, it had been a sudden heart attack that had taken her father away. It was unexpected; as far as she knew, her father wasn’t experiencing any significant health problems. At least for his sake, it had been quick.

The funeral was also planned quickly, both for logistical and emotional purposes. There were few people to notify, and Clara was only granted so many days of emergency leave in order to see to the affairs.

The funeral was a somber event. Her father had been put to rest beside her mother, who had been waiting for him for some twenty something years. The very few in attendance were largely made up of her father’s closest friends. But her aunt was there as well, and also Bradley. He hardly left her side at all.

Clara was thankful for that. Bradley’s careful watch gave her all the more motivation to keep herself together. One slip in composure, and he’d gladly jump in for support. As much as she wouldn’t have minded it, the thought of it only furthered her guilt. He’d already taken some leave to be in Chicago with her for a few days, and almost the entirety of those days he’d spent helping her and her aunt pack up her and her father’s belongings. 

But still, Bradley stuck by her, and Clara couldn’t deny that just having him near brought some comfort. He stood by her side during the funeral, and even afterwards, when the small congregation had traveled to a local bar her father frequented, Bradley was never too far away.

Clara’s aunt took some of the burden from her by helping to greet those who had turned up to the bar, but had opted not to attend the service. Clara could hardly blame them; she would’ve preferred to forgo the intimate funeral herself if she had had the choice. The light atmosphere of the bar did wonders to lift clouds of grief that had loomed over her over the past few days.

But, even with her aunt’s assistance, many of the stragglers insisted on paying their respects to her personally as well. More friends of her father, they were- she knew some, but not all. Most of his office had turned up for the event as well. But there were a few notable surprises.

The first one was a man she almost didn’t recognize, until she took a better look at his face. Bill “Cougar” Cortell was accompanied by his wife and daughter, who looked to be near Clara’s age, but perhaps a little younger. She had met the man a few times throughout her childhood, but it had been well over 15 years since she had seen him last. He offered his condolences for a few minutes before turning and heading over to the bar. His wife and daughter trailed shortly behind.

Clara felt Bradley come to stand beside her. “You know who that is?” she asked, not turning to look at him.

“Cougar,” Bradley answered, evidently having recognized the man from photos.

“... I think his daughter is checking you out,” Clara noted then, stifling a smile as she caught the other woman, who accepted her ordered drink from the bartender, taking glances at the man beside her.

“She is not,” Bradley denied, though Clara could hear the smile in his voice.

“I could introduce you to Cougar, if you’d like,” she offered then. “I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”

“Maybe in a little bit.”

“Clara!”

Her aunt’s hushed whisper immediately grabbed her attention, and both Clara and Bradley looked to the woman, who was standing a few feet away, for the cause of her urgency. Her aunt subtly gestured to the door, where a few more people were making their way into the room.

Even if her father had not pointed him out to her in old photos, Clara would have recognized the man leading the group anyways. He walked towards her slowly, calmly, with a woman, whom Clara could only assume was his wife, on his arm.

Admiral Tom “Iceman” Kazansky came to a stop before her. He gently unwrapped his arm from his wife’s, and extended a hand out towards her.

“Lieutenant Wells, I was very sorry to hear about your father.”

Going through the motions, Clara stuck her own hand out to shake the Admiral’s. “Thank you sir,” she heard herself say, still stunned by the man’s mere appearance. “And thank you for coming.”

“This is my wife, Sarah,” he introduced.

“It’s nice to meet you.” His wife also extended her hand, and Clara shook her hand as well.

After Clara’s hand fell back down to her side, she blinked a few times to reassure herself of what she was seeing. She felt Bradley subtly shift beside her, reverting her attention back to the conversation at hand. “It’s lovely to meet you. And thank you, both- it’s an honor to have you here… Forgive me, sir, but I didn't think to expect you.”

The Admiral gave her a small, reserved smile and he nodded understandingly. “If I may say so, you’re young, and early on in your career, but I’m sure you’ll soon realize- you seldom forget those you fly with. Anyone you fly with. I didn’t have the pleasure of working with your father for too long, but I do know he was damn good at his job.”

In the back of her mind, Clara could hear her father recounting the exact day the Admiral was referencing. It was twenty something years ago, but he always seemed to remember every detail of what had happened that day. And now, Clara realized, the Admiral seemed to remember the day clearly as well. Like Maverick, her father had always spoken highly of Iceman. It touched Clara that the Admiral spoke so highly of him in turn, and she could only hope her father was aware of the Admiral’s opinion of him before he passed.

“I appreciate the wisdom, sir,” Clara commented. Bradley shifted once again beside her, and she glanced up at him briefly. “I’m sorry. sir, if I may, this is-”

The Admiral extended out his hand once again, this time to Bradley. “Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw,” he declared, with a small smile and a particularly meaningful look in his eyes.

Bradley smiled warmly, clearly honored to have been recognized so plainly, and shook his hand firmly. “Yes, sir.”

“The last time I saw you, you were about yay high.” The admiral looked at him with a hint of amusement in his eyes. The look in his eyes shifted slightly, becoming distant, as though recalling some old memory. “God, you look a lot like your father.”

At this, Clara watched Bradley’s reaction carefully. Typically, speaking about anything regarding his father was a hit or miss type of subject, and Clara had a better chance of flipping a coin than betting on whether the topic was going to be welcomed on Bradley’s end or if it would be a sore one.

To her surprise, and relief, Bradley didn’t seem angered by the implication. He actually looked rather humbled. But mostly proud.

“Thank you, sir. I’ve gotten that a lot.”

The Admiral chuckled. “Well, I’m sure you get this a lot too, but it has to be said- your father really was a good man.”

Bradley’s expression remained soft and unbothered. “I’ve been told that before too, but it’s always good to hear it, sir.”

“How is your mother doing these days?”

That was the moment Bradley’s composure slipped. If Clara hadn’t been watching his face, she almost would have missed his faltering smile. To his credit, he recovered in the blink of an eye. The Admiral may not even have noticed the slip.

“She passed away a few years ago, sir,” he replied carefully, his voice a bit thicker than just a few moments before.

It had been more than just a few years, but Clara knew the fib had been done on the Admiral’s behalf.

It worked too; the man made no move to disguise his own falling face. “I’m really sorry to hear that.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Sarah Kazansky cleared her throat quietly, and the Admiral spared no time in changing the subject to prevent an awkward conversation. His eyes darted between the pair of them curiously. “So, the two of you know each other?”

“Yes, sir,” Clara answered, smiling proudly. She spared another glance up at Bradley, who still looked a little bit uncomfortable by the previous subject. “We’ve been good friends for several years now.”

At this, Bradley’s crestfallen face slowly disappeared, and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a small smile as he looked down at her briefly and met her eyes.

“Really?” the Admiral asked, the surprise evident in his voice. He looked between the two of them once again, as if trying to come up with the answer of “how” for himself. “I guess it’s a small world. You two must be like birds of a feather, huh?”

It hadn’t crossed her mind, but the more she thought about it, the more apt a description for them it seemed to be. Clara nodded and smiled politely. “Something like that, sir.”

“Well, I’ve heard nothing but good things about the both of you,” the Admiral confided seriously. “I’m sure I will continue to hear the same.”

Despite the slight surprise at the revelation of that information, Bradley and Clara both answered, in unison, “Yes, sir.” The honor of the Admiral’s words was not lost on either of them.

The Admiral gave them one last smile and nod before entertaining his arm with his wife’s once again. He moved to head over towards the bar, but stopped. To Clara directly, he said quietly, “Lieutenant Wells, if you see Maverick, would you please send him my way?”

Bradley’s jaw clenched.

“I have yet to see him, sir, but if I do, you’ll be the first to know,” Clara replied without skipping a beat.

“Thank you.”

Once the Admiral and his wife were out of earshot, Clara turned to face Bradley with a concerned expression. His jaw was still clenched.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t think about the possibility of him showing up... Do you want to head out early, in case he does?” she asked him quietly.

Though hadn’t been talking or texting every day as of late, Clara was fairly certain that if Bradley had had some sort of miraculous reunion with his later father’s best friend, he would have informed her about that development in their otherwise severely strained relationship.

Bradley relaxed at her question, and looked down at her with tired but caring eyes. “No,” he answered, his tone one that left little room for argument. “You’ve had a lot on your mind, it isn’t your fault. If he shows up, so be it. We have nothing to say to each other. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to stop me from being here for you right now.”

Without thinking about it, she embraced him in response to his words.

The gesture was quickly returned.

…

As the afternoon went on, the absence of one Captain Pete “Maverick” Mitchell became painfully obvious. Cougar had even inquired about whether Clara heard from him. She had not. 

But the Admiral had mentioned him specifically, and Clara had a feeling that if the Admiral knew of her father's death, she couldn’t imagine that information wouldn’t have been shared with Maverick as well.

On one hand, Clara was happy when the Captain ultimately decided not to make an appearance. Bradley was more at ease that way.

But on the other hand, she couldn’t help but feel some anger stirring within her at the thought. Had her father not been in the plane with Maverick that day he shot down the three MiGs? Merlin was not Goose, and she knew that, but he’d flown with Maverick just the same. He had his back just the same. Hell, her father practically idolized the man, and seldom said a negative thing about him.

The Admiral, who had also been there with them that day, but in a completely other plane, had taken time out of his incredibly busy schedule to show up and offer his condolences. And Captain Mitchell had not.

Though he had explained his side of the story, at some point over the years Clara had begun to chalk up Bradley’s anger with Maverick up to some miscommunication and misguided good intentions. But Clara was beginning to realize why Bradley felt the way he did, and why his anger had pursued despite the passing years.

Perhaps the infamous Maverick wasn’t all he was cracked up to be after all.

“What time does your flight leave?”

“Not for a few hours.”

The following day, almost all belongings in what used to be the Wells’ residence had been packed up and moved into a few storage units. It’d been a lot of hard work, but it’d been accomplished in a timely manner with Bradley’s help. Clara hadn’t been able to stop thanking him since the day he arrived. As if he actually minded; he would have come to Chicago for her anyway.

Some of the bigger pieces of furniture remained in the house, including the table and chairs on the pack patio. In a few weeks, Clara would hire some movers to take what remained of the furniture out of the house, and it would eventually be sold. But for now, the patio was proving to be a nice resting place for them to both decompress over the past few days.

“Mine leaves tonight,” Clara commented. “After you leave, I’m going to go see my aunt for a little bit longer before heading to the airport myself.”

Bradley nodded, happy with the fact that Clara wouldn’t be left alone for too long. Perhaps he had been hovering over her too much over the past few days, but if he had, it’d only been done with the best intentions. He was no expert in the matter, but having lost both parents himself, he thought he could see a few signs of less-than-productive coping methods. So far, he hadn’t seen much in Clara that gave him cause for concern… except for one thing.

“Are you sure you're ready to go back?” he dared to ask, despite being well aware of how she would take his question that had been posed innocently enough.

As expected, Clara grimaced. “We were having such a nice time,” she complained half-jokingly.

“It’s only been four days, Clara.”

“Closer to five.”

“Fine, five. It’s only been five days, Clara.”

“And that’s five days I’ve missed out on. FIve days worth of work that I’m behind everyone else on.”

God, she’s stubborn, Bradley couldn’t help but think to himself, albeit with some fondness. “I doubt anyone would give you much grief if you decided to-”

“Don’t say that,” Clara interjected.

The sudden harshness of her tone took him aback. He must’ve made some sort of face in response, because Clara’s stern look visibly softened as she looked at him.

She cleared her throat, and shook her head. Softer, she added, “Don’t say that, please. Not finishing is not an option.”

“It can be, if it’s what’s best for you,” Bradley insisted gently.

“And why is finishing the program not the best thing for me?”

“If you’re ignoring things you need to deal with, at some point that stuff will come out at the worst times. Believe me, I know. I’ve been there.”

He knew this all too well, actually. Not properly dealing with his mother’s passing all those years ago led to one too many angry outbursts against undeserving people. And, given what the both of them did for a living, Bradley couldn’t help but fear the thought of Clara's mind being anything less than sound when she could happen to be tens of thousands of feet up in the air.

It wasn’t that Bradley thought Clara incapable of grieving and moving on properly. He had the utmost faith that it was possible, knowing her. But the timing of it all, and just how adamant she was about quickly returning to TOPGUN, made him pause. Whenever Clara was involved, he’d rather voice his opinion and err on the side of caution then remain silent and live to terribly regret his decision later.

“You don’t understand,” Clara continued when he did not respond. “I have to go back.”

“Why?”

“Because if I don’t go back now, I might not go back at all.”

“You don’t know that-”

“-But I do. This is my one chance, Brad. You know as well as I do that not everyone gets a chance like it, either… let alone a second one. I have to see it through. For him.”

Her weighted implications delayed Bradley’s reply. But after a moment, he pushed forward, determined to state his case. “Your dad wouldn’t want you to run yourself ragged on his behalf, Clara,” he reasoned sympathetically.

“You still don’t get it,” Clara huffed, though she sounded more tired than irritated. “My dad had a chance to go to TOPGUN once- you know that. Things didn’t work out though, and after that, he never got another chance. But you should’ve heard how happy he was for me when I told him I’d gotten in. He was so proud. He was going to try and make it to graduation…” she trailed off, eyes veiled as though lost in some memory. A moment later, they refocused on Bradley with a newfound sense of steely resolve. “He gave up his military career to raise me, and I cannot let that go to waste. I will not blow this chance. I have to finish. I have to graduate. Not just for him, but for myself.”

“I’m not going to be able to talk you out of this, am I?” Bradley asked calmly, though he already knew his answer.

“No.”

“Then I won’t,” he promised, settling back into his chair comfortably to silently signal that there was no ill-will between them.

Clara was quiet for a moment. Then, she turned to him, and asked, “Do you know what my dad said to me, after he found out about the results of service selection?”

Bradley merely shook his head once.

“He said, ‘Time to show them what you’re made of, kid,” she recalled somberly. She looked away from him slowly, and her eyes focused on something distant, if it was even something physically present at all. “I know you’re worried about me, but I need to do this. There is no one else out here that I need to impress anymore. There’s no one else out here who would be disappointed in me if I don’t give this my all. So if I can’t make the best out of my career for my own damn sake, then I might as well give it all up right now… And I just don’t think I could live with myself if I did that.”

Clara’s impassioned words resonated with Bradley very deeply. Besides his grandmother, he had no one left to appease but himself, either. … And her.

“... You’re wrong,” he disagreed softly after a few beats of silence.

Clara looked over at him once again, her eyes fixated on him with a look mixed between bewilderment and anger. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re wrong,” he repeated plainly. “If I ever find out you do anything at less than your best, Red Cross, I will personally be very, very disappointed. So, go- show them what you’re made of.”

Seeing the slow-forming smile on her face in response to his half-serious, half-playful tone would have been worth the trip to Chicago in and of itself.

“I just wanted you to make sure you take the time you need,” Bradley explained. “If what you need is to keep on going, then you should do it. I will support you in any way I can. But, you should know that you were still right about something else you said, though.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t need to impress anyone… But you already do, even without having to try.”

The smile on Clara’s face was plain as day now. It was one of the very few Bradley had been graced with over the past few days, but he was thankful for it regardless. Her eyes welled with tears, but this time, Bradley had a good feeling that they were not ones of sadness. “Thank you, Brad… That really means a lot.”

“It’s the truth… Just, don’t be a stranger, alright? If you ever want to talk, about anything at all, I’m always a text or phone call away.” Most of the time.

“We could never be strangers, Brad,” Clara replied with a playful scoff. She thought to herself for a moment. “Not after everything that happened.”

It was the first explicitly clear reference that either of them had made to the night that had happened more than two, going on three years back. Bradley wasn’t as bothered as he thought he would be by it, though. In fact, hearing Clara verbally reaffirm that what had happened was not a figment of his wildest imagination was reassuring. … Had she thought about that one night over the years, like he had before many times?

… Was it possible she loved him, too?

Neither of them knew what else to say after that. Instead, the pair continued to sit as they were, and a deafening, yet oddly comfortable, silence fell over the both of them as the ambience of the surrounding Chicago suburb filled their ears instead.

…

“Hey, Brad?”

“Yeah?”

“... We’re still buddies, right?”

“Always, Red Cross.”

She smiled.

“Besides... You still have my shirts.”

“I’m really sorry we didn’t end up first in the class.”

“Are you kidding me?” Dana asked incredulously. “Don’t you dare apologize about that!”

Several weeks later, Clara and Dana watched quietly as Bob and his pilot were handed the plaque that symbolized their top performance amongst the best of the best.

“Second place is still worth noting, right?” Clara asked her hopefully.

Despite the training incident, and Clara’s sudden absence of a few days mid-course, the duo of pilots and WSOs had been able to make their way back to the top of the pack with a lot of hard work. That had been no easy feat, but Clara still thought it a little disappointing to have come so far just to fall short at the end of the program. She couldn’t help but feel as though her absence had potentially lost a spot at the top of the class not only for herself, but for Dana, too.

Dana turned and gave her an incredulous look. “Clara, it’s worth noting that we finished the program at all.”

Upon processing the other woman’s words, Clara did a double take. There was no simply no way Dana could have known how deeply her words resonated with her… And judging by the forming smile on the other woman’s young face, Dana had no idea. Clara forced a small smile and nod to makeup for her failure to immediately reply.

“Come on,” Dana said then. “I could use a drink. Or two. Plus, we’ve got some people to see.”

A trio from their squadron had flown out for the graduation as a show of support. Though they had (mostly) behaved during the ceremony and speeches, Clara could already tell, even from across the courtyard, that the crew was beginning to become their typically rambunctious selves.

Even Dana’s parents had flown in for the occasion. Though seeing her pilot being reunited with her family warmed her heart, it was double-sided with some pain in Clara’s own as she recalled who was unable to attend and see her… But then she remembered.

As Dana headed over to the concession table, Clara lingered behind, her eyes searching the rest of the courtyard. She spotted him almost immediately.

Bradley Bradshaw.

He had surprised her just before the ceremony started, greeting her warmly. She hadn’t expected to see him, and she told him as much. All he said in response was, “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

They’d been unable to get more than a few words in before they had to part. But before doing so, he promised to catch up with her later, telling her that they needed to talk.

The fact that Bradley had taken even more leave to come to the graduation made Clara realize just how much she appreciated his presence in her life. He’d been a rock for her following her father’s death, without her even having to ask as much of him. And even before that, Bradley had done nothing but support and encourage her along the way. Clara could only hope that she had done the same for him.

She still loved him, and that wasn’t likely going to change soon… if at all. But she was glad she hadn’t confessed her feelings to him before she came to her senses.

Clara knew that Bradley had played a large role, passive or not, in her ending up where she had. She knew she had found a true companion in him, this man who she had only met by way of backup plans and pure chance. She knew their line of work was dangerous, and that was both unavoidable and undeniable. But she dreaded the thought of doing something that would lead to him leaving her life by choice.

She couldn’t risk ruining their friendship.

Even if it meant numbing those pesky little feelings of love that she held for him.

Proud was an understatement of what Bradley felt.

He smirked to himself as Clara’s particularly rowdy squadron members enveloped her and Slugger in a hug that could only have been described as bone-crushing.

They’d flown in on the same connecting flight as him. Bradley would have been remiss if he hadn’t taken the opportunity to get a little more insight into his “buddy”. While he had gotten some information he was looking for from them, he would readily admit that her squadron members had drilled him a little bit too. It seemed it was obvious amongst them how close the two of them were while on base.

Bradley wanted to join the group across the courtyard in their mirth, but in all honesty, he was trying to delay the inevitable.

That, and he didn’t want to be seen as disrespectful. Since he had been to TOGUN himself within the past year, many of the instructors had remained the same. When a few of them noticed him in attendance, they couldn’t help but pull him aside for some words and to catch up.

So, Bradley made polite small talk with them. But as he did so, he was constantly eyeing the group, or more specifically, one of them, across the courtyard longingly.

Though he had intended to attend the graduation regardless, especially in light of Mr. Well’s unforeseeable absence, what was supposed to have been a cheerful event had been tainted in light of the news Bradley had received upon landing in California. As he watched Clara smiling across the way, he knew without a doubt that he would make small talk with every guest attending if it meant putting off the conversation he was going to have with her. Bradley knew that as soon as the conversation began, Clara’s cheerful resolve would disappear.

While he’d be damned if he killed this pivotal moment for her any sooner than he had too, the clock was still ticking. His departure to report back at Virginia Beach was imminent.

Bradley watched her talk enthusiastically with another peer. It was a man whom Bradley recognized as being one of the two who had been acknowledged as top of the class, and whom Clara would later introduce to him as her infamous friend, “Bob.” As they conversed about something Bradley could only guess at, his thoughts drifted elsewhere than the five person shop-talk conversation he was barely a part of anyway.

He was relieved he hadn’t confessed his true feelings to her, despite him feeling hell-bent on doing so.

Had he told her, and his feelings not been reciprocated, Bradley wouldn’t have been able to be there for her when she really needed someone. And since Clara had been there for him, whether she knew it or not, years back when they first met, and when he was dealing with a few inner demons of his own, the least he could do was return the favor. But, more than that, having someone like her in his life was a constant that Bradley had been afforded very few of. As selfish as it was, having her in his life, in any capacity, made him happy. And he’d be damned if he did anything at all to jeopardize that. Even if it meant choosing to follow his mind instead of his heart.

But hell, he still loved her. And he doubted that would ever change.

… That’s never going to change, Bradley realized solemnly, taking a forlorn glance at Clara across the courtyard. So long as she was in his life, which is one of the few things he wanted more than anything else in the world, the feelings he held for her would probably never go away.

The sudden epiphany was not shocking, but it was all the more bittersweet in light of everything else.

Specifically, it was bittersweet in light of the orders Bradley had just received a few hours prior, which had informed him that he, and the rest of his squadron, were to be deployed in less than 48 hours.

San Diego, CA

Fightertown U.S.A.

Present Day

...

Clara let out a laugh in response to a particularly jarring joke Phoenix cut at Hangman’s expense. As she settled down, she glanced over at the small crowd beginning to file into the bar. And who she saw, donning his expected aviators and one of many, many Hawaiian print shirts in his possession, both very much expected of him, made her heart skip a beat involuntarily.

He stood just inside the entryway, and she could tell even with the glasses that his eyes were scanning over the patrons of the bar. He was reading the room.

Phoenix looked up from her lined up shot on the pool table and over towards the entrance of the bar as well. “Bradshaw!”  she called, suddenly standing up straight. “Is that you?”

He made eye contact with Phoenix, and after a brief look of recognition flashed across his face, he began to head towards their direction. As he walked, his eyes continued to look over those he passed by.

She watched with piqued interest as he came closer. Eventually, his eyes met hers.

He smirked.

…

The promise of something greater than friendship between Bradley Bradshaw and Clara Wells had taken a back seat to their careers and personal fears. Though the sparks between them remained over the years, several ill-timed events had prevented them from admitting the truth.

Finding the courage and the right time for themselves to address the feelings they continued to bury was beginning to seem impossible.

Thankfully, the universe saw fit to keep letting them try.

Chapter 5

Masterlist

A/N: Please don’t hit me for this one. I had this planned since chapter 1... it’s character building(?)😅

But thank you for reading!💙 I may need some additional time for the next chapter... considering I have yet to write it.😅 But it will be on the way! Starting next chapter, we’re finally going to get into the events of the movie. If you would like to be added to the taglist so that you are notified when the next chapter is posted, please feel free to let me know. Also, I’ve got some one shot/headcanon ideas that spurred off of this part, so if that’s something you would be interested in reading too, please feel free to let me know as well.

As always, any and all feedback is welcomed and appreciated.💙

TAGLIST: @gretagerwigsmuse​ @unluckymonaghan​ @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy​ @roosterschanelslut​ @letusbewildflowers​ @roses-and-grasses​ @fangirl-316​ @owenniasstars​

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun #top gun maverick #rooster #rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun fanfic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fanfic #rooster bradshaw fanfic #rooster bradshaw fanfiction #miles teller #bradley bradshaw x reader #slowburn #fluff #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster bradshaw imagine

[danpuff-ao3]

Embroidery Commission

I was going to do a longer introduction but really I can't tease the people like that. That would be quite rude of me!

This, my friends, is the gorgeous embroidery hoop I commissioned from @onbeinganangel!!!!

Okay you have the goods now, read ahead if you're ready for Danni babbling.

Yesterday morning, I got an email from our apartment's Amazon hub that I had a package ready for pickup. And since I knew exactly what it was, I was annoyed (cuz it's early and I'm at work and I have to wait) and excited (cuz MY HOOP!!!!!)

After work, I rushed home, ran to the hub, grabbed my treasure, and pranced back to my apartment. You know, carefully. I wasn't sure how delicate I needed to be and I was risking this hoop for nothing!

Above pictures is what I found inside the box. My hoop carefully and beautifully wrapped in tissue, and a sweet note!

And if you know me at all, you'll know I was too excited to rip right into it. I don't know if anyone else deals with this, but my excitement levels get so high I just don't know what to do with myself! Have to smile and shriek and dance a bit. Shake out all those nerves! Breathe a bit (because oxygen is important.) (That's what I'm told anyway.)

Once I had my wits about me, I very carefully peeled back the tissue and beheld my beautiful hoop!

And started crying, of course.

(If you know me at all, that won't surprise you, either.) (Overactive tear ducts, I swear to Merlin.) (Or maybe that's just me being overemotional...either way 🤷‍♀️)

It was in early November that I reached out to Mari. She had posted about making sure she could get commissions done in time for Christmas, and while I didn't need anything by Christmas, it did prompt me to think "hey...maybe I could commission something!"

If you've not seen Mari's embroidery, you should definitely check it all out! (Conveniently: click here.) Her work is gorgeous, and it's extra special to have another craft used for fandom purposes! Fan writing? Great! Fan art? Great! Fic binding? Oh cool! Fan embroidery???? Oh god I'm in love. (Also Mari writes, so here's her AO3.) (We have to stan a multi-talented queen.)

I was a wee bit nervous, because I've always been hesitant to ask about commissions from people who I don't know are okay with Snarry. My OTP is so controversial to others, but so beloved to me, and so I rarely reach out, but...I don't know. I couldn't help it! It seemed like too cool an opportunity to not try for, and Mari seemed so sweet so I figured if she let me down, she'd do so gently!

...because obviously I'm going to commission Snarry things. Much as I love other ships, if I'm spending my hard earned money, it's going to be Snarry. 😍

As you can see: it was not a problem!

What I most wanted was a piece for my pride and joy, Contempt. I wiffle-waffled a bit. I thought Orange Blossoms might have better imagery for embroidery, but I already had a fanart done for Orange Blossoms, and while more is more...I really, really in my heart needed a physical representation of my beloved Contempt.

I felt a bit bad about the timing and assured her I didn't need it by Christmas and to prioritize Christmas projects (even though I was quite eager for this!) Like: "I saw your post about Christmas commissions but...this is not for Christmas!" Anyway between the Snarry worries and timing guilt and my anxiety...that should tell you how much I wanted this piece! And let me tell you, it was worth fighting anxiety for!!

The other tricky part of commissions is me trying to give creators an idea to work with, while also stressing that I value their creative input more than my own vision. Everyone is different; more details are useful for some while others enjoy the creative freedom more. (So of course I fretted about that, too.) But generally I am drawn to creators for their own skill and creativity and want as much of themselves in there as possible! I have so much respect and admiration for other creators!! And why I want so dearly to support them however I can! (And to also selfishly benefit from it, not gonna lie.) (Look at this thing!)

What I gave Mari to work with were primarily the quotes. Both are spoken by Harry in the work, though in separate portions of the fic. I wasn't sure how weird that would be, but I don't know...they go so well together and really sort of sum the whole story up! My ultimate love/hate endeavor!

As for the imagery, I had suggestions for that, too: the door to Snape's quarters have "serpents entwined with ivy and dahlias" and there are moments in the story where other flowers are given, those being white gardenias and forget-me-nots. Between my personal love of flowers and animals, as well as my great love for symbolism, and the role they all play in the story...well, I'm glad they all fit in! (Also, Mari is a champ for listening to all my rambling about symbolism and vibes haha!)

From one of our email exchanges, I mentioned: "It's a very stark, intense story. A bit brutal. Lots of shame. Riding that line between love and hate. That's another part of why I like nature imagery; all of the beauty and brutality of the world around us." And I feel like it came through! It feels very simple and natural. It looks a bit like fallen, fragile flowers and a snake slithering along, a sort of unsuspecting seduction. (Sorry, I sure love to read into things!)

Honestly, Mari was such a joy to work with. She has such a good eye for design and color! And such clear skill. She was easy to talk to, happy to communicate, and best of all so kind and patient and sweet! And in the end, she crafted something truly priceless.

Contempt is truly the story of my soul. (If you follow me, you're probably tired of hearing about it LOL.) The concept has lived with me for so long. Writing it was a true labor of love. Having this piece of it to hang on my wall is genuinely so meaningful. I cried when I first saw the finished product (via email) and cried again when I had it in hand. And again when I hung it on my wall.

It's not in its final spot just yet. A few inches to the right (not pictured) is a Hogwarts plaque that I plan to move to another wall this weekend, so I can move the hoop a bit to the right. But I was much too eager to share this to wait until the weekend! But this should still give you an idea of what my Snarry wall looks like, and will more or less look like after the shift. (The art beside the hoop is the Orange Blossoms art mentioned earlier, by LuEndland!)

Mari, thank you so much again for working with me and creating this truly precious hoop! Also: feel free to make your own post if you like, one with less word vomit haha! You are a true angel, I hope you know!!

To everyone else: if you've been thinking of commissioning an embroidery hoop...for sure do it!!!! 10/10 do recommend.

Also please expect more photo dumps once my work space is all set up!!

#embroidery #snarry #contempt #onbeinganangel