#goose's greatest hits

[dumbbitchawards]

I cant understand people who are like "why is everyone in aziraphale's neighbourhood gay" like my brother in christ he lives in soho

#good omens #gos2 #nina sosanya #maggie service #aziraphale #mine #dumbbitchawards #goose's greatest hits

[trying-something-n3w]

Dracule Mihawk X Archer!Fem!Reader

Summary: After almost bleeding to death going up against an admiral you find yourself on a dark and gloomy island where your injuries get the best of you. Making your way through the ominous land and standing off with a baboon on steroids you stumble upon a seemingly empty castle. Little did you know that not only was the castle occupied but occupied by a warlord, the world's greatest swordsman in training, and... A ghost girl?

word count: +5k

Warnings: blood, fighting, Zoro being Zoro, ooc Akainu, reader gets a bounty eventually, stealing from the marines, intrigued Mihawk, unsuspecting Kobe, feels for Mihawk, slow burn

Author's Notes: I'm SO happy people seem to like Chapter 1 of Learning Curve (Katakuri x Valkyrie!Fem!Reader) Updates will be slow but I promise it'll be worth the wait! If you ask to be tagged in the series I will def tag you! Anyway! Here is my first Mihawk writing, not sure if it will continue but let me know if you want more!

The waves were aggressive in these parts of the sea and you knew it, you just didn't want to admit you didn't know how to sail on your own, especially in the grad line. The blood running down your abdomen wasn't helping either. You hiss trying to tether the sails so you don't drift off course in your little boat. With the rain pelting your face you genuinely didn't know which direction you were going you just knew you had to get far away from here. In the distance behind you, there sits a smoking marine ship up in flames with the distinct shouts of everyone trying to give hurried orders. Your bow lay thrown on the deck with your arrows scattered at your feet. Escaping was particularly hard not knowing a fleet admiral was on board.

 What was meant to be a small robbery turned into a wild goose chase the second you crawled over the port side where said admiral was enjoying his tea. You both stare at each other for a solid minute before you laugh, smile, and book it. 

Running through the ship grabbing anything that looked of value, your dodging skills came in handy when the bullets started whizzing by your head. You didn’t mean to catch the ship on fire, honestly, that was the admiral's fault.

All the halls look the same to you as you dip in and out of doors. Some meeting rooms, some with bunk beds, and some supply closets.

 As you make your way through a kitchen you snag a tasty-looking roll then come face-to-face with Akainu blocking the only other exit in the room. You turn to go back the way you came when three more lieutenants block your way. They bring up their guns as you raise your hands and slowly turn back to the admiral.  

“If you give up now we won't have to do this the hard way.” Akainu tried to intimidate you, tried to give you an out but to no avail, you only smirk in response. 

“Now where’s the fun in that admiral?” In seconds you draw your bow and an arrow of your creation to send it straight through Akainu. He turns part of his abdomen to lava to avoid the arrow, exactly what you hoped for. A thick wire was attached to the arrow you shot connecting it to your wrist brace. Hitting a switch on your bow the wire starts to coil around the arrow pulling your light frame through the air. Due to Akainu melting half his abdomen to avoid the arrow, you fly through him. You hit the wall hard outside the kitchen with a grunt. That'll bruise for sure. You cut the wire with a blade attached to your thigh and bolt to your left hoping to be heading toward an exit. Unbeknownst to you back in the kitchen the three lieutenants are panicking watching the lava eat through the floor, the hole getting bigger by the minute. 

“Well, what are you waiting for go after her!” Akainu’s voice booms. The three lieutenants scatter out the door they were blocking, one dropping his rifle and going after you. 

Continuing through the halls you bound past two smaller marines, one with pinkish hair and glasses, the other one with yellow hair and a weird bullcut. With the roll in your mouth,  you make eye contact with the pink-haired marine and wink. His face flushes but does nothing to stop you. Rounding through the corridors you come in contact with a few more trainees but you take them out easily. One you knocked in the head with your bow and another you choke tell he passes out. The last one was a little harder engaging in combat with you. His moves were slow, not aiming for any of your vitals so you swiped his legs and carried on.

 The alarms start to blare in your ears when you notice the smell of paint burning. You make it to the front deck of the ship, slamming through a door, when you turn to see smoke billowing out from one side of the ship. While fighting off a handful of men one tries to pull your hair. You grimace while giving him a crazed smile as you cut your hair severing his hold on you. To be fair he didn't have a good hold so thankfully there was more length left than you thought. You kick his stomach with your heavy boot and run to a dingy attached to the side of the ship. 

Before you can safely lower the small boat you hear a deafening voice calling for more backup on the side you were trying to escape from. You look up and see Akainu standing on the tallest deck, face contorted in anger. You panic and start cutting the rope with the dagger to get as far away as possible. Right before you cut the last line Akainu sends some of his lava in your direction shaped as, who would have guessed, the arrow you shot earlier. You lift your arm swinging hard trying to get through the rope before it hits you. As the line severs and the boat drops you get hit directly in the abdomen, straight to where you aimed at Akainu. The impact of the water was bruising, and the added sting from the wound made you groan in agony while trying to set sail. Thankfully it was not a direct hit, most of Akainu’s shot hit the railing of the ship as you fell. 

You drifted from the smoky ship, shooting your head up when you started to hear guns fire. Once the small sail was finally set you paddle to add the extra distance. 

This is where you find yourself now, struggling against a storm that came out of nowhere. The Marine ship is now a small dot in the distance as you struggle to tie a piece of ripped cloth around your burned stomach. After, you try to make-shift some shelter from the emergency kit on board to protect yourself from the storm. You tie one last knot in the rope holding the sail then take cover as much as you can. You take a moment to assess your wound before hissing and pulling your shirt back down. Becoming exhausted from your little adventure (disaster) the sound of the thunder becomes a thought in the back of your mind as you drift farther into a warm darkness. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up who knows how long after your extravagant exit you find your undersized rig beached on a gloomy island. You try to sit up but hiss at the pain shooting through your torso. You quickly squeeze the wound trying to stop not only the bleeding but the pain. Slowly as you hold your breath you use the side of the boat to lift yourself to your feet. In the distance can be herded wild screams from an animal you hope not to run into. You sway as you take in your surroundings looking from left to right. At the top of a mountain sits an old-looking gray brick castle. Occupied or not you knew you needed to get to some safe cover. Trying and failing to pull the dingy more onshore you give up and hurry to grab your bow and arrows from the makeshift tent on board. Turning to the line of the forest you hesitate only for a second listening to the monstrous noises. The burning in your abdomen makes you take the first step.

Pushing past the first couple of bushes and trees the light becomes scarce with how dense the woods are. You pick up a stick and start taking out spider webs before you run into them venturing forward. With your other hand holding your wound you hurry in the direction of the castle.

The ominous sounds become closer the deeper you go. Noticing a branch snapping and the rustling of leaves you believe something is following you. You pause for a brief moment and hear it again but this time from above you. You turn to look behind you, the shore a small picture in the distance. As you turn to take a step to move on your head gets dizzy and your vision tunnels. For a split second, you thought you were gonna pass out from blood loss but something else kept you awake. A blood-curdling screech sounds from above you confirming that someone or something was tailing you. 

You lurch forward and roll on the ground with a deep painful grunt before taking your bow off your back, pointing an arrow at the beast that made contact with the ground behind you. The earth shakes with its landing and your balance almost wavers. The beast stands tall on two feet with a sword in hand. It resembles other monkey species you've run into before but you still don't know exactly what you were up against. 

Before it leaps for you, you let an arrow fly at its face. You turn quickly and flee before you can see the arrow burst into a powder on the creature. You glance behind your shoulder not stopping while clutching your side seeing the pinkish hase dissipate and the beast falls forward looking very sleepy. You let out a breath you don't realize you are holding. You haven’t tested the sleeping powder before now so you are very satisfied it seems to work! Before you can fully celebrate you start to hear even more loud beastly calls from the trees above you. They swung from tree to tree after you causing your stomach to drop, they were gaining on you. You pick up your pace hoping it's not too long before you reach the castle. Pushing past some thick shrubbery you almost fall forward as you come across a wide opening. You realize it's a stone path leading to the front doors of the castle. 

Still clutching your bleeding abdomen you rush forward not realizing the sounds of the beasts fade the closer you get to said castle. This time when your vision tunnels and your limbs get heavy you fall against tall double doors. You reach your bloodied hand up and start to pound, it may look abandoned and you may be dying but you still have decent common sense no matter how fast you are fading. Knocking was polite. Your blood was a stark contrast to the clean wood of the double door. Just when you think the castle is indeed abandoned you hear a female voice call from within. It didn't sound like it was directed to you but to others inside. You take a stumble back hearing a lock click before the door creaks open. Before you see anyone you hear the female voice speak again. 

“This better be good enough to interrupt my baking sesh otherwise I swear-” Cutting in you feel warmth fill your mouth. 

“Help ple-” Instead of finishing the sentence blood pools your mouth and spills over. You lift your hand trying to stop it from leaking out but there is too much. 

The younger girl with pink hair and frilly apron gasps, eyes widening as she yanks the door wider. 

“ZORO!” She shouts and before you can comprehend it there is a male presence next to you. Your eyes water with the realization that you might not make this one out alive. 

The green-haired male lifts your figure and halls you inside. Passing the threshold you become limp in his arms.

“Perona get Mihawk now.” Zoro says sternly yet he stays calm overall. The pinkette disappears down some hall as Zoro walks you down some corridors. The lights overhead are fading with every blink. You clutch onto Zoro’s shirt trying to stay conscious. He eventually kicks a door open and walks into a well-lit room. 

Zoro is talking to you, asking you questions trying to keep you conscious. You don't understand the words he says but you can still see his lips moving. Zoro lightly sets you on what you assume to be a bed before he rushes over to a table with some drawers on it. 

Turning your head you try to speak but nothing but blood splatters the white sheets. 

“Don't do that you'll make it worse.” You hear in the distance. Zoro is back with rags, gauze, and other things you didn't quite recognize in your hazy state. You hear more than feel Zoro rip your shirt open before pressing a rag to your wound. You don't hiss or react only close your eyes and let the tears flow. In the distance you hear the sound of clicking heals and heavy footsteps. A minute or so later the door to what you assume to be a medical ward opens swiftly. The pink-haired girl stands in the doorway with a tall and intimidating figure behind her. 

The first thing you notice are his striking golden eyes. If you weren't dying you'd be blushing because of his intense stare. The second thing you notice as your eyes drift is the pinched look on the girl's face. Did you look that bad? 

“What is going on here?” The taller figure asks with a clipped tone. Perona, as Zoro called her, glances at the greenette and then back up at the man beside her. 

“We aren't 100% sure, she was banging on the front door and this is how we found her.” Zoro removes the bloodied cloth from your wound to examine it. 

“Mihawk this looks bad, it's a major burn wound and it won't stop bleeding from the main laceration.” Zoro turns on his heels to face the two. “If we don't do something she is going to die.”

Perona looks up to who you now know as Mihawk, his face is blank. You don't recognize the name at first in your state but you feel like you should be more scared of the man in the doorway. His eyes shift down from Zoro’s face to yours. You hope your eyes were expressive enough to get across your plea for help. Perona shifts uneasily as Mihawk stays still, unmoving. With a deep sigh, he uncrosses his arms and steps in. Rolling up his sleeves he proclaims, 

“Fine but you are in charge of her when she wakes Perona.” Some type of relief falls over your body and you sag with exhaustion. 

“Me!? Why me?!” Perona shouts at Mihawk for assigning her to nurse duty. Zoro gets out of Mihawk's way as he sits down to examine your wound. He feels your forehead, eyes slightly scowling knowing you are likely running a fever as well. Mihawk starts listing off things for Zoro and Perona to get for him to work on you but your consciousness is fading fast. Mihawk notices with a side glance and tilts his head to you. 

“Sleep. You won't want to feel this.” These are the last words you remember before the darkness takes hold of your body.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two days pass unbeknownst to you. Your sleeping figure fighting against the wound and the fever. Zoro goes about his business training though stopping by whenever he seems to stumble upon the medical ward. His straight face was easily readable to Perona, knowing he was worried about the stranger lying unconscious in the bed. Perona was bouncing around the infirmary rinsing cool rags and setting them on your head, she also changed your wound dressings when she noticed them getting a little too red. Most of the bleeding stopped by the first night but every once in a while you would jolt in your sleep and a new gush of blood would slowly seep through the dressings. 

If Perona wasn't taking care of you she was sitting next to you reading and sipping on some tea. Mihawk hovers only to see when you would wake up. On the second night, everyone retires for the evening when you wake up with a start. You gasp with wide eyes as you try to remember where you were. The room is dark with only the moonlight and a single candle illuminating the wide space. Your hand makes its way to the throbbing of your side to find newly wrapped gauze and padding. You slowly move the blankets and shirt to look down at yourself. Admiring a job well done you try to sit up. The pain that shoots through you makes you hesitate but you push yourself. You swing your feet over to have them land on cool tiling. You notice you weren't in your original clothing, now sporting loose joggers and a loose-fitting top. You take a deep breath almost gagging at how sterile the room is, you could almost taste it. 

Taking small light steps you make your way to the door opening it slowly. You lean heavily on the door frame when entering the hall. You look both ways before you notice a very faint light coming from the end of the hall around the corner. Relying on the stability of the wall you make your way past paintings and doors. Once you reach the end of the hall you turn to find an archway about a quarter way down the corridor. Hissing at the sharp pain when you try to stand straight you step forward anyway. Reaching the warm light you now see a cozy yet large library with a fireplace burning on one side of the room. Your eyes widen at the vast collection of books. You take one step inside before you feel a hand grab your left arm. 

“You are supposed to be resting little one.” You gasp at the light hold and deep voice. Whipping your head to the side you meet the same piercing gold eyes with the same intense stare. You have to crane your neck to fully meet his gaze. You stutter trying to respond but before you can Mihawk is leading you to a sofa in front of the fireplace. A book lay abandoned on the arm of the couch which you assume he was occupying before you interrupted. He sat you down gingerly before taking a seat in the chair diagonal from you. You clear your throat when you finally find your voice.

“Thank you… For everything. I wasn’t aware this castle was occupied when I landed here but I am very grateful it was. All of you saved my life.” You stare into the fire mesmerized by the dancing flames. You glance at Mihawk nervous now conscious of who he was. First an admiral and now a warlord. What next? The king of the pirates? 

Mihawk sat frozen with his legs crossed and his hands conjoined above his mouth just observing you. You shift under his gaze and look back to the fire. Before you find the words to continue Mihawk breaks his silence. 

“The other two showed up in similar states. At this point, it's like I’m running a hospital.” You turn away and grimace. You knew you were being a burden but he didn't need to say it so coldly. As if reading your thoughts Mihawk continues seemingly unbothered. 

“Perona will be taking care of you as you burn heals. From the looks of your abdomen, you probably won't be able to sail for at least two weeks.” Your eyes widen at his words, just how bad did Akainu get you? Your eyes drift down to your wound where your hand already sat. You were in a good amount of pain right now all things considered. Probably not the best idea to wonder for too long. 

“Either way, thank you for your hospitality and I’ll work hard to get out of your hair soon enough Sir.” You don't meet his eyes but you can feel his gaze on you, his eyes raking over your body. To you, he’s analyzing if you were to become a threat. In reality, he was wondering how much longer you would stay conscious. You have some pretty heavy pain meds in your system now so for you to be holding a conversation was impressive. Not that he would admit that. 

“Mihawk is fine.” This is when you finally meet his eyes. Expecting his intense and methodical stare you were surprised to see curiosity and interest. You turn your head back to the fireplace in hopes the glow of the flames could mask your slight blush. His eyes were gorgeous when not giving someone the death glare. 

“Since you seem fine enough to hold a basic conversation, I am intrigued to know how you stumbled upon my land and home. Do tell little one.” Mihawk uncrosses his legs and stands. He walks over to a wine rack and picks a bottle easily. “Wine?” He questions without turning around. You take a chance to admire his back muscles while you can. 

“Please. That sounds fantastic. And the names (Y/n) for your information.” You wear a hint of a smile enjoying your banter with the warlord. Mihawk walks back to his seat across from you and sets down two wine glasses. He fills them equally and leans back taking a long sip. You grab yours and smell, you’ve always enjoyed a nice aroma to your wine. Taking a sip you lean back as well, relaxing on the sofa. 

“Well, where do I even begin? First and foremost, I am a traveling merchant. I get hired to do odd jobs as I travel around from island to island. My skills are a wide variety from handling a bow and arrow to basic construction to hunting people down. I like to keep people on their toes. Currently, I am between jobs, I was sailing to Water 7 when I came in contact with a Marine vessel. It was smaller, maybe a cargo ship. I thought since I am low on funds, what's a little scavenger hunt gonna do?” You take another sip of your wine before setting down the glass on the low table in front of you. Resting your elbows on your knees you warm your hands up and rest them against your face. 

“I didn't know there was a fleet admiral on board at the time. Let alone know it was Akainu.” You side glance at Mihawk and see the barest twitch of his eyebrows. You take that as a queue to continue. 

“I climbed aboard not thinking much of it at the time but I should have scoped it out more beforehand. I should have absorbed my surroundings and should have followed the ship for a while before boarding. There was plenty I could have done at the moment to prevent what happened but… I slipped up. I was starving, being out at sea for so long without food and water will do that to ya I guess.” Your shoulders slump as you sag backward. “At first when I got past him I thought I was in the clear. I should have known from the moment I set foot on the deck that I wasn't getting away unscathed. After running around for a while and tumbling through marine after marine he finally spotted my getaway. Before I knew it I was dropping a dinghy into the water and my abdomen was bleeding. My goal was Water 7 but a storm swept in. My old rig being left behind I set sail and hoped for the best.” 

You were leaving out key details like the amount you got off the ship or how you got jumped by a baboon on steroids on your way to his castle but he didn't need to know that. You open your eyes to look at the man beside you and notice he is looking into the fireplace. You couldn’t recognize the emotions you saw in his eyes but you assumed it was nothing bad considering you were still sitting next to the warlord. For a brief moment, you didn’t think he would say anything but he surprised you by setting down his now-empty wine glass and standing. You follow his movements out of your peripheral and take the last swig of your wine. Before a second thought crosses your mind Mihawk then extends his hand in invitation. You glance at his hand and then up to meet his eyes but he still looks towards the fire. You set your wine glass down next to his and proceed to stand. Or, attempt to stand, that is. As you flex your abdomine to gain balance a sharp pain runs through your stomach. You hiss as you drop back on the sofa. You look up to Mihawk again now understanding his gesture. You take his hand without looking at his face and he helps you stand on your own two feet. 

“You must be hungry. I always say a good wine requires a good snack.” Mihawk lets you lean some weight onto his arm as he leads you out of the library. 

“A snack sounds fantastic right about now.” As if in queue your stomach lets out an atrocious growl that reddens your face. Mihawk peeks at you while you look at a very interesting painting as if your stomach didn't drop an atomic bomb in the hallway. 

“With the looks of it, I’m surprised you lasted this long without collapsing. Undernourished and injured do not mix well.” It’s as if the briefest hint of a smile crosses Mihawk’s face. You barely catch a glimpse as your eyes dart to his. 

“As small as I seem I am one tough cookie thank you very much.” You retort as you raise your head high. “My skills with my bow did not come easily.” You say almost to yourself. Mihawk does not miss this. The rest of the walk to what you assumed to be the kitchen was silent. A comfortable silence as you admire the decor and photos. Most are of landscapes and waterfalls but one in particular caught your attention before you walked past a threshold. 

Sitting upon the bleak wall was a massive photo of Yoru, Mihawk’s beloved sword. You pause admiring the beautiful craftwork and detail in the painting. Mihawk glances at the painting before down at you. His gaze sweeps your face admiring the awe in your eyes. He’d never admit it but the look on your face now was almost as beautiful as the painting you admire. With your mouth slightly open and eyes wide you take your time to absorb the scene. Yoru stands tall in the center, leaning up against gold and jewels. The gold cross-guard somehow shone brighter than any piece of jewelry in the painting. The black blade is a contrast to the vibrant colors of the gems surrounding it. Your breath catches in your throat as your memory is thrown to your beloved bow and arrows. 

“My stuff. Where is it?” Your voice was slightly colder in tone when you spoke. Mihawk lets you lean against the wall next to the painting of Yoru and takes a step away. He turns and crosses the threshold to the kitchen before responding calmly.

“Your things are in a guest bedroom you will be moving to after you eat.” You visibly calm, the tension leaving your body. You take one last glance at Yoru before proceeding. Your bow and arrows were your most valuable possessions, a gift that could never be replaced. You support more of your weight on your feet as you follow Mihawk. You venture to the island in the middle of the room and sit on a bar stool. Mihawk opens a pantry pulls out a loaf of bread and makes his way to a refrigerator. He proceeds to pull out some ingredients and begins to make you a sandwich. To your amazement, you find a delicious meal presented to you on a porcelain plate within a minute or so. 

“Again, thank you…” You glance up at Mihawk before you continue. “You know, for a terrifying warlord you’re very sweet.” 

You look from the food to him again. He stands across from you leaning up against the opposite counter. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and you can't help but notice the veins running down his forearms and into his hands. A shiver runs down your spine and you take a big bite of the sandwich averting your eyes. Before you can question if Mihawk saw you staring he takes a couple of steps forward resting his hands on the island you sit at. He acts as if your last comment was never said.

“For the next few days, I don't expect you to be up and walking as much. Once you are however we can discuss payment options for my… Services.” Mihawk says with an earnest gaze. Swallowing hard you set the sandwich back onto its place in front of you. Trying to sit up as straight as possible you meet his eyes head-on, trying not to seem intimidated or nervous even when your stomach was in knots. However, you couldn't tell if it was from hunger or anxiety.

“Of course, I understand. Whatever it is I’ll do my best to pay you back. You did save my life after all.” Mihawk just hums in reply and stands. 

“Finish your food and I’ll assist you to your room.” With that, he steps out of the kitchen for a moment. 

Taking this opportunity you shove your face with the delicious sandwich. Nothing has ever tasted so good after weeks of no food at sea. You slow down reaching the last few bites of the sandwich wanting to savor the flavors like it's your last meal. With your life, you never knew when your last meal was going to be. Licking your fingers and patting your stomach you sigh. With the food now in your full stomach you take a moment to look around the Kitchen. It's a decent size even with the island in the middle of the room. Plenty of cabinets lined the tall walls and a pantry sits in one corner. You wonder if Mihawk likes to cook. With the look of how clean it was he either loved to cook or never did. You stand gingerly trying to walk without the support of a wall or counter. You felt confident the first few steps to the sink but right when you thought you were in the clear a stabbing pain flew through your abdomen making you cringe and fall forward. You were able to lightly toss the plate onto the countertop before hitting the ground on your knees. Before your face falls flat on the hardwood an arm comes across your chest. Even with your hair now blocking your face you knew it was Mihawk from the solid frame and sweet red wine breath. One hand clutches his arm as the other goes to your wound. You inhale sharply feeling yourself start to sweat from the pain. 

“Let's get you to your room shall we?” Mihawk’s warm breath fans the top of your head, you squeeze your eyes shut trying to will away the pain.

“Give me a second to catch my breath and I-” 

Without warning you are lifted into the air and pressed against a warm chest.

“Please, if you walk now you'll reopen my stitching.” Mihawk begins to walk gently out of the kitchen to a tall set of stairs by the front double doors. You can’t say anything with the warmth that spreads across your face. Hawkeye freaking Mihawk is carrying you up to a guest bedroom and you think your heart is about to jump out of your throat. Whether it is from butterflies or anxiety you couldn't tell. 

Mihawk observes you for a brief moment noticing you hiding your face with your hair but chooses not to say anything. He knows his presence is intimidating and even though that is not his goal he can't help it. The persona he has built over the years as an intimidating warlord has protected him and haunted him. Yes, he may not be actively trying to participate with a group of pirates but no one ever said he never got lonely. With Zoro and Perona around, their presence has helped him realize he wouldn’t mind having someone around permanently possibly. Someone he knows is always going to be at home when he returns. What circumstances of the relationship with that person were still unknown to him but having another body around would be nice, to say the least. 

Reaching the top of the stairs Mihawk turns to the right and passes a couple doors before stopping in front of one that was slightly ajar. Using his elbow to open it all the way Mihawk turns to not hit you on the door. He walks over to the king-sized bed that was situated at the far wall of the room and lies you gently on the covers. You take in the room, your head on a swivel when you notice all of your belongings on the desk up against a wall. You visibly relax as you turn your attention to Mihawk who is now at the end of the bed. He gestures to a small tray lying on the trunk stationed at the end of the bed.

“If the pain gets any worse take these and they will help you sleep. In the morning I’ll let Perona know you woke up late in the night and she will meet you for breakfast.” Before Mihawk could turn away and exit he gets caught frozen in place. You sat situated in the middle of the bed now, hair frazzled from days of not being washed yet the look you give him makes his heart skip a beat. Your appreciative gaze is crinkled by the wide smile you show him. You look younger, not injured. Your cheeks are rosy from the cool night air and your nose scrunches with your now Cheshire cat smile. 

“Thank you Mihawk, truly. I look forward to speaking with you again.” You open your eyes once more and you could have sworn you saw the tips of his ears turn a shade of pink. Before you can see, Mihawk is turning towards the door and making his exit.

“Likewise little one.” 

#one piece #dracule mihawk #mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece x reader #anime #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk

[lonelydncers]

my love, take care of yourself

welcome to my garden! i'm niko/bee (22). owner of goose coven. lover of cats. aroace, lesbian, autistic, jewish and brazilian.

main interests: sabrina carpenter, maisie peters, conan gray, spiderverse, taylor swift, reneé rapp and fletcher.

prev urls: longlivestv, emailsicntsend, thegoosewitch, bleh-blah-blee, bleechella, lonelydncers

byf: i rarely ever tag things, so be careful with triggering content and spoilers of any kind.

dnf: 15 years old or younger. h*rry p*tter fans. gaylors.

some people i love:

the absolute love of my life: @katesprydes

my beloved wives: @katesprydes @its-tortle @arobarbie @faintedlcve @imperpetuallylost @loserdiaz @whatacharmingsaturday

my favorite sewer rats: @a-beautiful-fool @theladyinwhite13 @alltheliars @octoberconstellation @loveyouanyway

my lovely mutuals: @weeping-in-the-willows @florencewellch @all-l-wanna-do @dearreader @eyesopentv @melodramuh @waolom @allamericansbitch @queerbuckleys @soulsofthecity

some of my tags:

my greatest hits: bee dot txt

moodboards n artsy stuff: *mine

eras tour weekend tag: bee goes to eras!

#intro post

[topguncortez]

What to Expect | Chapter 11

previous part | masterlist | next part

synopsis: Your greatest fear comes true as you rush to the hospital to hear the fate of your best friend and the father of your unborn child.

word count: 2.8k

warnings: pregnancy, cursing, canon character death, injuries, topgun shit, fighting, questions of paternity,

You had never met Nick “Goose” Bradshaw. You were born about three years after that fateful day in 1986. Carole and Bradley had shown you pictures and told you stories about Goose. How funny he was, how loveable he was, how he could light up any room that he walked into. Your father still had a picture of himself and Nick from back in the days at the academy. You had never asked about how Goose died, and you never really wanted to know. You knew it was tragic and you knew it was sad. To you, that was all you needed to know. 

You knew that being with an aviator came with risks. You had a front row seat to all the risks that came with being with anyone in the military. You had been to a few servicemember funerals in your lifetime, and each of them was just as sad as the other. You had heard the cries of partners and spouses as the chaplain walked up to their front door to tell them the news that no one wants to hear. You had gone to school with kids who were called “Gold Star” kids. 

Ice didn’t tell you a lot over the phone. He wasn’t really supposed to say anything, but he knew that he had to tell you. They were already planning on returning early when the accident had happened. He told you to meet with them at the VA hospital on base. Alyssa had to drive you because of how bad you were shaking when you walked back into the teachers lounge. Stephanie was worried that you were gonna go into preterm labor, and had called your mother to alert her. Sarah was already at the hospital when the three of you arrived. 

“Where is he?” You asked your father as you saw him. Ice pulled you in for a hug and rubbed your back. 

“He’s being checked out right now,” Ice said, “He’s okay. Just banged up and a little bit shaken up. He’s been asking about you and the baby.” 

You nodded, “And what about Bradley?” 

Ice sighed and tried to come up with the right words to say, “The ejection failed. He hit his head on the canopy.” 

“Oh god,” You sobbed out and Ice had to hold you from collapsing to the ground. He helped you over into one of the nearby chairs. You knew how Goose died, Bradley had eventually told you a couple years ago. You knew it was one of his greatest fears when flying over the ocean was if his canopy didn’t open correctly, “I-is he-”

“He’s unconscious,” Ice said and you sucked in a breath, “He called out for you when he was going down.” 

“I need to see him,” You said and attempted to get up from your chair but Sarah  put a hand on your shoulder. 

“You need to calm yourself first,” Sarah said, “You being stressed out isn’t good for the baby.” 

“I’m not going to calm down until I see him,” You argued and then looked at your father, “I need to see him.” 

Ice and Sarah shared a look. They knew how stubborn you could be and they knew that you wouldn’t relax until you saw Bradley Bradshaw with your own two eyes. Sarah nodded and walked over to talk to a nurse. The Kazanskys were on Bradley’s emergency contact list, being some of the only family he had left. The nurse gave Sarah Bradley’s room number and permission to go see him. She walked with you, making sure you safely got down to Bradley’s room. 

“Do you want to go in alone?” Sarah asked you, as you stood outside of his room. 

“Am I a bad person for wanting to see him first?” You asked and looked at your mother, “My baby’s father was also involved in the accident but I don’t feel the rush or need to go see him.” 

“No, I don’t think you’re a bad person,” Sarah said honestly, “I don’t quite understand your relationship with Jake or what is going on between the two of you. But I do know that the love you have for Bradley is something that you have always felt. You love Jake, but not the same way you love Bradley.” 

You nodded and looked down at your bump, “I want to be alone.” Sarah nodded and rubbed your arm. She kissed your cheek before leaving you alone to go see Bradley. You sucked in a deep breath before opening the door. 

From afar, it looked like he was sleeping peacefully, but the closer you got the more you could see the small cuts and bruises all over his face. His head was wrapped up and you could see a plastic neck brace on his body. His hand was also bandaged up and you wondered if that was from the accident or if he and Jake got into another fight. You covered your mouth with your hand and tried to stop the tears from falling, but you couldn’t help it. You slowly walked closer to him, as if he was some sort of wild animal and you were afraid you might scare him off. 

“Oh god, Buckles,” You said, sitting down in a chair by his bed, “What the hell happened?” You gently grabbed his hand in one of yours, and then brushed your fingers over a cut on his cheek, “For fucks sake,” You sniffled and looked down at your hand in his, “I am so sorry, Bradley. For everything. I-I never should’ve hurt you the way that I did. But, I can’t lose you. Not now, not ever. I need you, Bradley.” The tears were flowing down your cheeks at this point in time, and you laid your head on the side of his bed and cried. 

Bradley wasn’t sure if it was the whisper of his name in his mom’s voice or the image of his dad standing in front of him that made him start to wake up. Or maybe, it was the sound of crying that made his brown eyes flutter open. He was a bit confused at first, his head starting to ache at the bright fluorescent lights and smell of antiseptic. His neck was stiff and he could hardly move it. Images of the accident started to come back to him. The sounds of Hangman yelling his name for extra coverage, the feeling of bullets littering the side of his jet, and then everything went black after that. Bradley lifted his hand and pinched the bridge of his nose, before looking down at the source of the crying. 

You were the last person Bradley expected to be crying at his bedside. He was taken aback, and thought that maybe he was still dreaming. He had seen this dream before, and it usually ended with his mom and dad walking in through the door telling him to wake up. Expect, that never happened, and you were really there, crying on the starchy hospital sheets. Bradley’s heart broke, as he gently raked his hand through your hair. You pulled your head up quickly, and looked at him. 

“Oh my god,” You launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him. 

“Ow, fuck,” Bradley groaned and you retracted your arms, “Sorry, my neck. . . I think they said whiplash.” 

“I am so sorry. I uh- I’ll be right back,” You said quickly and stood up from his bed. Bradley watched as you waddled out of his room, more than likely going to get a nurse. He hadn’t seen you in about eight weeks, and you had really popped. He had said you had a waddle back then, but now you really were waddling around. 

“Lieutenant Bradshaw,” A doctor said walking into his room, “Welcome back to the land of the living.” Bradley’s brown eyes looked back over to the doorway and noticed that you hadn’t come back. He sighed and tried to put on a smile as the doctor looked over his chart. 

— — — 

You had meant to go back to Bradley’s room, but you walked right past Jake’s on the way to get a nurse to go look at Bradley. You knew that you had to check in on Jake, he was after all the father of your child. Jake was sitting up in bed, flipping through channels when you walked in. He didn’t look nearly as beaten up as Bradley did, but you did notice a large cut above his eyebrow that was stitched up. 

“Hey, stranger,” You said and Jake looked over at you. He smiled, and scooted over in bed. You crawled in next to him, and he wrapped his arm around you, his other hand going to your bump, “How are you?” 

“As well as I can be after being shot out of the sky,” Jake said, “I don’t want to talk about it. Not with little ears around.” 

“She can’t-” 

“Yes she can,” Jake corrected you, “Hearing is one of the first things that is developed. How have you been? How was the end of the school year?” 

You filled Jake in on everything that has happened in the final weeks of school and what happened at your last appointment. You felt very content being back in Jake’s arms and the soothing touch of his hand on your belly. You didn’t realize how much you missed him in the past two weeks. Jake talked a bit about what he was doing while on detachment, he made sure to leave out the details of the accident. He didn’t want to relive them and he didn’t want you to start worrying again. Even though you were laying in Jake’s arms, your mind was on Rooster and what the doctors had told him. 

“You should go check on him,” Jake said, and you looked up at him, “I know he’s on your mind right now, and I don’t blame you. I-I was worried about him too. I even told him on the chopper ride back that he better not die cause I’m not sure how I can explain that to you.” 

You giggled and leaned up to kiss Jake, “Thank you for understanding.” 

“Of course. As long as I get cuddles with my girls afterwards.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at Jake’s words as you walked back down the hallway towards Bradley’s room. You took a deep breath before knocking on the door and waiting for an invite to come in. Usually, you would’ve just walked right into the room, but it felt odd doing that. Everything felt odd between the two of you right now. Once you heard Bradley’s voice call out, you pushed the door open and peeked your head inside. 

“My junk is covered if that’s what you’re worried about,” Bradley said and You scrunch your nose. 

“I have seen it before Bradshaw,” You chuckled, walking over to his bedside. You sat down with a sigh, and looked at your belly. It was silent for a moment until Bradley spoke up.

“I’m sorry,” Bradley said, looking at his hands in his lap. You looked up at him, and met his baby brown eyes, “I-I,” He sniffled, “I never ever meant to hurt you in the way that I did. My mom would have smacked into next year if she knew what I was doing.” 

“I’m surprised the ghost of Carole Bradshaw hasn’t come to rain down on you,” You said and Bradley chuckled. 

“Oh trust me, I think she has,” Bradley said, “My transmission in the Bronco dropped the day after I stormed out of your house. I feel like her and dad were somewhat behind that one,” You broke out in a smile and felt the baby kick against you, “She kicked?” 

“Can you see it?” You asked. The shirt you were wearing hugged your bump just right, and you could see any dramatic movement that baby girl did inside you. 

“Yeah, I think I saw a foot,” Bradley looked at your belly, “But as I was saying before someone interrupted,” You giggled and rubbed your belly, “I am sorry for putting you in the position that I did. It was selfish and wrong of me. I was just so. . . blinded by my feelings. I guess the idea of finally having a family was just so appealing that I wasn’t even thinking of how much it was hurting you.” 

“Bradley,” You shifted closer and grabbed his hand, “You have always had a family with me.” 

“I know,” Bradley smiled sadly at you, “I guess when you started dating Jake. . . I thought that I was losing my family all over again. I was happy that you had found someone to make you happy. But you moved away with him, and I didn’t see you for so long. And then you came back so heartbroken, and I did everything that I could to pick up the pieces. I thought ‘yes, I am finally getting my chance to secure my family.’ Then little bug came along, and Jake came back, and I was losing my family all over again.” 

You got out of your chair and sat on the side of Bradley’s bedside. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it. 

“No matter what happens, Bradley, you will always be my family,” You said, and grabbed his face in your hands, “You have always been my family. You have always been the one who gets me, who is there for me. Buckles, you were my first love.” 

“And you were mine,” Bradley said, grabbing your hands, “You were the last thing I thought about when I was going down. I was thinking ‘i’m going to die, and you still hate me.’” 

“I could never hate you,” You said. 

“I’m glad, because I hated not talking to you or seeing you,” Bradley admitted, “Can you give me a hug? I’d hug you but the whole-” He gestured to the brace around his neck. You giggled and leaned in to hug him carefully, “I love you, Bug.” 

“I love you too, Buckles.” 

You stayed in Bradley’s room until he fell asleep. The two of you had nearly two months of stuff to catch up on. You filled him in on information and development about the baby and showed him some of the sonogram pictures you had on your phone. He wanted to come over as soon as he could to help but the nursery together with Jake. Bradley had told you that he and Jake had somewhat reconciled while on the carrier. 

But just like Jake, he left out details on the accident, probably to save you all the stress. Bradley’s doctor had come by and told him about his injuries. He had a concussion from hitting his head on the canopy, and it also gave him whiplash (hence the neck brace). The wrapped up wrist was from him trying to punch out but it had failed. The two of you watched Forrest Gump until he fell asleep. You kissed his cheek and pulled his blanket up, tucking him in. 

There was a smile on your face as you walked back down to Jake’s room. You felt like everything was sort of working out for the better now. And even the baby inside you could tell things were starting to change. Jake had texted you for more saltines about an hour ago, and you snatched a sleeve from the nurses station. 

You pushed open Jake’s door, “Jacob, I got your salt-“ 

“For the last fucking time, dad, I’m not getting a fucking paternity test done!” 

You jumped at the sound of his voice. Jake was standing at the foot of his bed, and hung up his phone, throwing it with force at the pillows on the other end. He sighed and gripped the footboard, trying to settle his heart rate down. 

“Jake?” 

“Annie saw your snapchat the other day,” He said. You cursed yourself, you had been careful about posting on social media because his family didn’t know, “They want me to get a paternity test done.” 

“Ohh… I mean, Doctor Carp-“ 

“I said I won’t do it,” Jake stood up straight, “I don’t care if that baby is biologically mine or not. . . that’s still my baby.” 

You smiled as you walked towards Jake and hugged him tightly. He rested his chin on the top of your head, and rubbed your back. 

“Your baby, huh?” You looked up at him and Jake smirked. 

“My baby,” He kissed your forehead, “My girls.” He tilted your chin up and kissed your lips.

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[ellie-24]

USS Randall Ramblers Part 6

This is a birthday present for one of the coolest people I know @whositmcwhatsit . She had a wonderful birthday present for me earlier this month and then cleverly reminded me that her birthday is coming up as well. Wink wink nudge nudge say no more.

I ain't much but it's honest work and I hope you enjoy it.

Also thanks to @thatbanditqueen for beta-ing and helping me transform this into proper English!!

And thanks to the wonderful writing support group @be-my-ally @vintageshanny @from-memphis-with-love @lookingforrainbows @missmaywemeetagain @powerofelvis @shakerattlescroll @peskybedtime

Word count: ~7.4 k

Warnings: smut so 18+. MDNI

Previous Part

Bad Nauheim, December 24th 1958

It all just felt like a dream. A surreal dream.

Mary was only supposed to come over and visit him in Bad Nauheim for his 'Welcome back' party after his maneuvers in Grafenwöhr.

She was supposed to be back in Frankfurt to celebrate Christmas with her family.

She was supposed to sleep in her own bed in her own room at Hotel Grunewald.

Now, after a very long, nerve-racking phone call involving her, her father, her mother, Vernon Presley and of course Elvis himself the previous day, she found herself staying until Boxing Day.

And even though she wanted to obey the rules her parents had laid down before she went, she somehow found herself sneaking into his bed after dark every night.

There was no denying that being the centre of his attention had to be one of the greatest feelings in the world. Who was she to say no to him when he'd give her those puppy eyes, which he knew made her knees weak every time, and ask her to spend Christmas with him? Or to spend the night in his room, in his bed?

But for now, she wouldn't want it any other way. And although it was wrong, something about the way he'd pull her close to him in his sleep just felt right. Consequences didn't matter when she could feel his pillowy lips press against her forehead while she was drifting off to sleep.

She could just live this dream forever.

With an irritated sigh Mary raised her arms to shield her eyes from the horribly bright light suddenly shining right into her face, disrupting her peaceful slumber.

When this didn't have the desired effect she began to blindly wave around, in an attempt to slap away the flashing sensation. Her hand promptly hit something cool and hard with a dull thud and she let out a small gasp at the stinging pain in her wrist.

"Careful, Cherry, you're gonna break it."

"Huh? Elvis, I was asleep." She mumbled with a frown while rubbing her aching wrist.

"You're awake now honey, that's perfect." He held out a flashlight to her. The very one he'd held right into her face before. "Do me the honor, please."

"What?" She muttered, pressing her hand against her forehead, trying to make sense of his words. Her eyes fluttered closed again.

He shuffled closer, making the mattress bounce up and down for a second. "I wanna show you something, come on." He insisted and started tugging at her wrist before handing her the flashlight.

"What?" Mary repeated while squinting her eyes at him, still feeling disoriented.

He snorted. "You're asking an awful lotta questions honey, just trust me."

Mary reached out and grasped his arm, slightly pulling him towards her again, wanting nothing more than to just cuddle up against his chest again.

"It can't wait till morning?" She asked with a hopeful tone and tried to stifle another yawn. Unsuccessfully. The thought of leaving his cozy and most importantly, warm bed already made her shiver.

As if on cue, damn his psychic abilities, he pulled the blanket off of her. "Come on, Cherry, don't be no party pooper." He insisted with a small grin.

"I don't see a party." Mary grumbled, goose bumps all over her body as she got up, the flashlight still in her hand. "Okay, you won." She offered, playfully swatting at his chest.

Swiftly dodging her attack he wrapped his arms around her shoulder and pulled her close to him. "Thanks baby, now come, won't regret it."

It was one of those situations where she was asking herself how she ended up here. Sneaking through the dark corridors of the hotel at four in the morning for who knows what reason.

Well, actually she knew exactly how she ended up here. Being with Elvis always involved some kind of nocturnal activities. He didn't sleep much, that much she'd gathered in the time she's spent with him already. And he didn't like being alone.

He still had his arms around her as he guided her down the first flight of stairs. Suddenly, he let out a snort and stopped at a random guest's door. "Watch this." He raised his hand to knock, a mischievous grin on his face.

"Elvis, don't you dare!" Mary hissed and glared at him, once again remembering the talk she had with with had with Otto, the hotelier, regarding Elvis and his friends’ behaviour. Especially Red and Lamar who, in their free time while Elvis was at the base, had nothing better to do than test his patience with one childish prank after another. More than once Otto had considered kicking out the entire entourage. And to be honest she didn't blame him.

"What exactly did you want to show me?" She asked quickly to keep him from really knocking at that damn door.

He lowered his hand and nudged her forward with a smirk, down the next flight of stairs. "Otto has told me all about the ghosts haunting this place, honey, it's some scary stuff, I'll tell ya. There's the one about that young woman falling off the balcony a hundred years or so ago. Apparently her name was Mary and she also happened to be the prettiest girl in town, just like you, honey."

"Not funny!" She didn't want to sound scared, but those creaky old stairs and the flashlight in her hand, though very bright, being the only source of light made her feel like she was in a Hitchcock movie.

"Not to mention the Christmas spirits." He continued.

Mary stopped and raised an eyebrow, facing him. "You really think I'm gonna believe you? Sorry Elvis, I don't believe in ghost stories."

"Careful honey, starting to sound like ol' Scrooge."

"And you're sounding silly. Why are you ruining the holiday with ghosts? I've always loved Christmas. Look-" She gestured outside the large window next to the stair landing, looking at the snow covered street at the old light pole adorned with milky white Christmas lights. "It's so pretty."

It was peaceful, silent for a while as she simply watched the snow fall, it was hypnotising. Silent Night.

"Boo!" Elvis' hands wrapped around her waist from behind, scaring her.

Mary let out a soft shriek and felt the flashlight slipping from her grasp. Knowing what was about to happen but unable to do anything about it with her bad reflexes, a small curse just left her lips as she squeezed her eyes shut and covered her ears, awaiting the inevitable bang. When the flashlight collided with the carpeted floor, a dull thud echoed through the hallway. It gave out, shrouding them in complete darkness.

For a few seconds neither one dared to move, both frozen and awaiting someone coming down the stairs and scolding them like they were two kids sneaking out of bed to steal some candy. After a few seconds of undisturbed silence they agreed with a mutual sigh of relief that the noise apparently didn't rouse anyone from sleep.

"Great, E!" She finally whispered with a small breathless laugh, a hand over her rapidly rising and falling chest, her eyes only slowly adjusting to the darkness. She stretched out her arms, not wanting to run into the wall on accident as he bent down next to her.

"Cherry, did ya have to throw the damn thing away?" He chuckled, though there was a hint of frustration in his voice while he was looking for the now broken flashlight.

"Did you have to scare me?" She shot back with a snort. "Can you find it?" She asked after a while of him crouching on the floor.

The only answer she got was a low hum.

"What is it?" She inquired when she suddenly felt his feather light touch on her exposed calfs, making her gasp. "Elvis?" She asked, an edge to her voice.

Elvis didn't respond - instead he slowly lifted the soft, white fabric of her knee-length nightdress and threw it over his head in a swift motion.

"Elvis!" She nearly squealed, scandalised, before looking around frantically and pressing herself against the wall behind her, kind of hoping to just melt into it.

"Hmm?" He hummed, his nose brushing almost carefully against her thigh.

"Oh god, what are you-" A quiet moan escaped her when his hands ran over the back of her thighs, inching higher and higher until they rested right beneath her butt.

"Someone's wearing no panties. Naughty."

"Well I didn't expect-" Mary let out a little cry when he pressed a small kiss to her inner thigh, her toes curling against the carpeted floor.

"Gotta be quiet, otherwise everyone will hear ya." He mumbled, his hot breath fanning over her bare skin.

"E, that tickles!" She whispered, trying her best to sound stern.

"Just want a little taste of my sweet Cherrypie." There was this pleading tone in his voice that would just transform her into a puddle. Mary actually thought her legs would give out as he lightly nibbled at her soft skin, his big hands now fully sprawled over her butt, pressing her closer to his face.

"But, you can't-" She breathed as her back arched against him. Treacherous body.

"Can't show my favourite girl how much I'm smitten with her? And her legs? And her-" Mary's hand shot up to muffle the shriek escaping her when his lips brushed over her mound.

"Oh god! Not here!" She argued weakly, her voice as shaky as her legs.

Mary's eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness and she saw his head appeared from under her nightgown. He grinned up at her. "I won't tell if you won't, honey." He drawled nonchalantly.

A huff escaped her - frustrated and excited at the same time. She was at such a disadvantage with him and they both knew it. But she couldn't say she didn't enjoy the power he had over her. A word, a touch and she was at his mercy, but she trusted him. So she decided to just let herself fall into his touch.

He sensed her silent agreement and tightly gripped the back of her knee before lifting it over his shoulder, supporting her weight - and giving him easier access. Then he used both hands to slowly, agonisingly slow, push the soft cotton up her legs, only to pause and consider, his full lips pursed. She made her impatience known by pressing her calf against his strong back, urging him closer.

He clicked his tongue with another smile and shook his head before swiftly gathering the fabric and bunching it up at the center of her stomach. He looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. "Mind holding that for me, Cherry?"

She nodded mutely, then shook her head, not sure about the correct way to answer his question. Everything seemed a bit hazy as she closed her fist around the fabric.

He tapped the side of her thigh and winked at her. "Just have to look at ya, honey." His voice was just above a murmur as he took in her body for a moment, illuminated just the tiniest bit by the dim streetlight and the reflecting white snow. That concentrated look was back on his face as he rested his cheek against the side of her thigh. He did that quite often when they were close like this, like he was trying to take a mental picture.

The thought did nothing to diminish her arousal and she couldn't resist running her hand through his soft hair until it rested on the back of his head. With a wanton sigh she tried to push his head towards her, needing to feel his touch, his lips.

He obliged and leaned forward. Eyes closed in anticipation, she shuddered when his nose bumped against the soft flesh right beneath her belly button. He placed a few kisses right where the waistband of her panties would be had she worn any till his eyes found hers again. "I'm real glad you're here, Cherry. Don't know what I'd do without ya."

She nodded, his words only increasing the building pressure in her lower belly, her hips rolling in an effort to get some friction. He chuckled as he got her message. "Gotcha, no more heartfelt talk. I'm a man of action after all.” He started teasingly running his tongue over her slick folds.

"Don't stop, god, please don't stop, E." She chanted, holding onto the wall behind her, fingers dragging over some weathered paint that had begun to peel off.

"You're so wet for me." He groaned, his lips closing over her little nub. His hand roamed over her hips, over her stomach as his searing touch making her body convulse. Nerves and excitement mixed together, each little sensation and fluttery touch intensified by the notion that someone could walk in on them any second. Somewhere deep inside she was still rather scandalised, both by his sudden advances and her own lack of ability to care about it.

But all coherent thoughts were abandoned when he cupped her breast, squeezing lightly. A flick over her nipple with his thumb made her buck against him once more, her mouth hanging open in a silent cry. He suckled on her, increasing his speed, churned on by the way she was letting herself fall more and more; Literally - judging by the pressure on his shoulder where her thigh rested he had to use his hand to hold onto her hips or she'd collapse under his touch. It just took a few more strokes from his hot tongue and his strong hands squeezing her soft flesh until she came undone, stifling a loud moan that would surely give them away.

She finally sank down on the floor next to him, her chest heaving. "Elvis, please I want you." She breathed, not really recognising her own voice.

He caught her by her waist as she attempted to straddle him and carefully set her down again before shaking his head and kissing her forehead. "No, Cherrypie, not like this, not now."

"When?" She urged, her hand on his cheek, making him look at her.

He turned his head and kissed her palm. "Soon. For now I just want you to stay as you are." Upon seeing her frown he grinned and tapped her nose. "Now, don't give me that look."

She shook her head and leaned in to press her lips against his. With a dreamy sigh she opened her mouth when she felt his tongue urgently gliding over her bottom lip. Again, he didn't allow her to take control as he explored her mouth. She could taste herself on him and couldn't help herself but smile into the kiss. Eventually he pulled away from her. "Easy, not trying to win a race here."

Mary wrapped her arms around him. "So, was that what you wanted to show me?" She whispered, still breathless, cradling his head to keep him as close as possible.

"When I was down there, I just couldn't help myself honey."

A bashful laugh escaped her at this admittedly charming way of dodging her question.

"And look what I found." He proudly held up the broken flashlight.

She threw her head back. Silly man. "So much for your supposed 'ghosts'."

He licked his lips with a grin. "Don't know 'bout you, but I sure as hell heard some moaning."

"You're impossible!" She gasped, then let out a small laugh. "But I do love you, E."

"Love you too, Cherrypie. Come on now." He got up and held out his hand. Instead of leading her back to his room he made his way down another flight of stairs until they arrived in the hotel lobby.

The large christmas tree in the corner and it's decorations cast a warm glow over the room. She tapped one of the wooden nutcrackers hanging off the tree, reminding her of her favourite ballet, while Elvis made a beeline towards the connected dining room and peered out of the window. He craned his head as if looking for something specific, his hand perched up against the glass.

It slowly dawned her that whatever he was doing right now was probably the actual reason for their little nightly excursion.

"I knew it. Of course that tramp is still here." He muttered after a while.

Mary came up to him and tried to follow his gaze. "Who?"

"It's her damn car." He gestured outside.

Oh. Dee Dee.

"Daddy's probably gonna make her leave before everyone's getting up, thinking he's real smart about it." He started pacing around while Mary just helplessly stood in the corner watching, not knowing what to do or say to him.

Elvis continued, his face contorted in anger. "First he invites her to my party the other day, now they're doing, hell, I don't wanna know what they're doing." He threw up his hands and plopped himself down on the couch with a sigh. "Next thing you know, he's gonna move her in here and I gotta pretend to be all happy about it. As if I got no other fucking problems to deal with."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help you somehow."

"Man, I just don't have the time for this kinda bullshit." He ran a hand over his face. "Colonel's been going on and on about damn publicity photos in uniform, that Christmas in Berlin picture he's already planning with Hal Wallis, trying to save what's left of my career-" His breath hitched for a moment in a humorless chuckle. "-Then I gotta worry about us getting kicked outta here-" He slaps the sofa at that. "And I somehow gotta serve my country at the same time."

She sat down next to him and exhaled heavily through her mouth. Again and again she was confronted with problems that seemed way too big for her. She could understand that he felt overwhelmed and alone. But she didn't have the slightest clue what to say to him to make him feel better. Maybe it was time to make peace with the fact that the best she could probably do was just listen to him and be there for him as best as she could.

"I'm here for you, anytime you wanna talk, I'm here to listen." She reassured him and placed a hand on his chest.

"I know honey. I appreciate it." He grabbed her calves and promptly placed her feet in his lap. "Damn, like little icicles." He let out a little laugh and started rubbing them absentmindedly.

She smiled at him and wiggled her toes. "Well, I was rushed out of bed as if the world was ending."

"Sweet Cherrypie, always makin' a big fuss outta nothing." He playfully pulled on her big toe and she had to resist the reflex to kick him.

"You're-" She huffed out a laugh but remained silent with a shake of her head. It was quiet for a while until she decided to open her mouth again, her face apologetic. "Sorry about your flashlight though."

"Honey, don't worry, already made up for it." He winked and ran his hand from her ankle up her leg. "It's nice just being here with you. I wish you could be here with me all the time."

"I know." She agreed.

"You should move here."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Think about it, I hate you being so far away from me."

"Frankfurt's only an hour away, E."

"Pretty much the other side of the damn planet, honey. You're not here when I need you."

"Elvis. You know I'd love to be with you. All the time. But it's not that easy."

"Of course it is."

"I got a job, my family. My life is... in Frankfurt right now. I can't even afford my own place on a secretary's salary. A learning secretary. And who says I could find a job here?"

"You'll work for my father. He'll take you under his wing, he needs a secretary. And you can move in here, live with us."

She blinked, not entirely sure how she felt about the idea of working for him.

"Elvis, I don't know-"

"You'll move in here. And then we can always be together." He repeated, reinforced his point as if that'll just change her mind. To her own confusion she actually found herself considering it. "It'll work out, honey, you'll see." Upon seeing her hesitation he comfortingly brushed over her hair. "I just want ya close to me. I wanna take care of ya."

Mary leaned into his touch and sighed, overwhelmed at his proposal. It was madness. And working for him might effect their relationship. The one they hadn't even officially defined yet. Her understanding was that they were still dating and now he wants her to move in. Under the premise of working for his father.

Now it was her turn to run a hand over her face - in confusion. She knew she wanted to say yes. At least that's what her heart wanted. It didn't take much to convince her to leave everything behind and stay with him. Still, she tried to be rational about it. "Elvis, I'm really not sure-"

He placed his finger against her lips and shook his head while shushing her. Her eyes drifted down towards his beautifully puckered lips. "Nah, stop it, baby. At least think about it. Don't say no right away, that ain't fair."

She opened her mouth only to close it again, not sure how to put her thoughts into words. It might mess up everything now if she asked questions, but she willed herself to go through with it. "What would this mean for us?"

He leaned in closer and she nearly had trouble holding eye contact with him. "What are you talking about, honey?"

Mary raised her eyebrows and gathered her courage before trying once again. "I mean for our relationship."

He smiled, albeit looking a bit bewildered. Either he really didn't understand or he just straight up refused to. "We'd be together way more often honey, don't know what you're getting at." He shrugged with a frown. As if she started talking Chinese all of the sudden.

Mary inclined her head. "It wouldn't be weird?" A pause. "We haven't been dating for too long." She added, her voice small, almost not wanting him to hear it.

He sat up straight, setting her feet onto the ground. "Honey, I just don't understand where this talk is coming from now."

She guiltily eyed his fingers, how he was fiddling with the ring on his pinky finger. He seemed tense and agitated, his posture reminding her of a soldier standing at attention. That's the last thing she wanted right now. In an attempt to appease him she carefully explained. "I'm only saying we should think and properly talk about it before rushing to a decision that we might regret."

Suddenly he shot up from the couch and turned away from her. So much for defusing the situation. "Damn, I can't talk to you right now. Not making any goddamn sense, woman! No one's making any goddamn sense."

Mary panicked at his sudden outburst, not wanting to upset him. "Elvis, I'm sorry-"

"Nuh-uh!" He pointed his finger at her and she froze. "Need to clear my damn head." He muttered and turned, making his way back upstairs.

She slowly got up as well, successfully blinking away the tears that were burning behind her eyelids. The silence as she followed him was nearly unbearable, but she didn't dare saying another word. As he opened the door to his room, she turned the opposite direction, towards her own room.

"Now where do you think you're going?"

Mary released the door handle as if she had burnt herself and faced him, feeling caught for whatever reason. She thought it was obvious that she wasn't gonna join him now. "Uh, I thought-"

He sighed. "Cherry, just come over here damnit."

"...Okay." She whispered, utterly perplexed and at a loss for words.

However, his behaviour made sense to her when she awkwardly laid down on her back, careful to keep a safe distance and he scooted closer to her - not so close as to fully press his body against hers, but so that he could rest his hand on her stomach. As much as he apparently didn't want to deal with the confusion and worry he felt, there was something else that he undeniably hated more. Being alone with those thoughts.

Mary spent the next morning like every morning; helping Mrs. Presley in the kitchen, who insisted on cooking and cleaning despite the hotel having staff for that. She was a tough one and Mary looked up to her, talking to Minnie Mae was a source of comfort to her, their talks often trivial and relaxed. Maybe that's what she liked most about their time spent together.

This morning however there was a certain edge, a tension in the air. At first she thought she imagined it, still a bit shaken by Elvis' and her last interaction. That was until she realised it was Christmas Eve and everyone was, indeed, rushing around and being busy preparing tonight's dinner party.

The presence of Red and Lamar didn't necessarily help the uneasiness she felt. Most of the time she tried to avoid them as best as she could, trying not to let on that the two men always kind of intimidated her and she'd just rather stay off their radar. They were currently lounging at the kitchen table, the topic of discussion was, unsurprisingly, Elvis, she didn't really hear them talk about anything else. She'd listen but hardly contribute. Right now they were wondering about his dismissive attitude during breakfast this morning.

Mary dried her hands on her apron and paused for a second. She didn't even hear Elvis getting up and leaving for the base that morning. He couldn't have gotten any sleep, after all it was nearly morning when they went back to bed. Why did she feel bad? He was the one that woke her at four in the morning, god knows if he's gotten any sleep before that.

Loud shrieking and laughter on the street outside suddenly caught her attention. Thankful for the distraction from her spiraling thoughts she turned her head towards the noise.

"He's back." Red announced without even looking up, pulling a thread from the tablecloth in front of him.

Indeed, he was. Outfitted in his full army uniform, Elvis got out of his white BMW and raised his hand to greet his devoted fans who were waiting - in the cold- in front of the hotel. Mary watched the scene, taking in the wonder and adoration on everyone's face as they gathered around him. The unbridled love they had for him and the enjoyment he got out of did warm her heart momentarily. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

He was like a magnet, putting everyone under a spell he didn't quite understand himself. It seemed like all the people in his life wanted him, claimed him for themselves. And she saw that he did his best to accommodate everyone, striving to fulfill everyone's needs without really considering his own. There were so many people expecting something from him, wanting something from him and she wasn't sure how he navigated all that pressure.

His outburst earlier made a lot more sense now that she saw him trying to please as many people as possible at the same time. He was taking his time, trying go give everyone his attention, shaking hands, giving hugs, signing whatever they asked him to.

When he linked arms with two pretty girls and walked them up to the front porch she told herself that she wouldn't let it bother her. He must doing something like this all the time. It was just part of who he was. She had to get used to it, whether she liked it or not.

"Oh he never takes the girls inside." Mrs. Presley exclaimed, putting down the silver spoon she was busy polishing.

"Must be feeling that Christmas spirit." Red offered.

"He's a giver ain't he." Lamar added, turning the page of his newspaper that he was pretending to read for nearly an hour now.

Mary felt her face grow hot and pursed her lips. He led the giggling girls inside, settling right in between them on the couch, where they'd sat last night. She refused to get upset about the fact that he hadn't even come over to greet her. He'd definitely seen her as he walked past her.

From the corner of her eye she saw him leaning towards the girl on his right, his fingers buried in her hair, playing with her fancy updo, while she was exitedly saying something to her friend in German.

Mary dried another plate and put it away before fully glancing at him. He shot her a pointed look before leaning in and kissing that brunette's cheek, who was now giggling uncontrollably.

She felt like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head. And again, her thoughts went back to last night's argument. Or whatever it was. She herself wasn't a hundred percent sure what it was. All she knew now is that suddenly, in that very moment, she felt more far away from him than ever. Did he do that on purpose?

It felt similar to that day where her friend Helga showed her an article in the Bravo magazine about his supposed girlfriend, Anita Wood, he left behind in the States. Her initial reaction was shock before she told herself to get it together. He would've told her something like this, she was sure of it. She wouldn't put the tabloid's drama over his word. On the other hand he didn't tell her that Elisabeth was supposed to be at his 'Welcome back' party. But she was just a friend, right?

Again and again she was reminded that he could never truly only belong to her. He was a superstar after all. When she was alone with him she tended to forget that very important detail. She knew she had to be tolerant in that regard if she didn't want to lose him.

After a deep breath she turned back to Mrs. Presley, asking if she could help her with polishing the cutlery for tonight. It was hours later after the two girls left with signed photographs and him retreating back to his room without even looking her way that she couldn't take it anymore.

Making her way upstairs and knocking at his door strangely felt like admitting a mistake, but his silent treatment felt decidedly worse. "Elvis?"

He had changed into a white knitted cardigan and black dress pants and she stood up a bit straighter when he leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking down on her with an unreadable expression on his face.

Mary eyed him carefully before clearing her throat putting on the most nonchalant tone. "How was your day?"

"Spent the day at the base decorating the company Christmas tree and singing Silent Night until eventually the last poor fella in that building got tired of it"

Apparently he had no interest discussing last night's incident, preferring to just act like it never happened.

For now she'd accept it. For now she'd come to the conclusion that she's overwhelmed him as much as he'd overwhelmed her. She figured giving it all some time would be the best course of action.

"I could never get tired of hearing you sing." She answered truthfully, looking at him through her lashes.

He gave her a quick once over before breaking into a smile. "Aw, little one, always knows what to say. Come here, missed you." He opened his arms, inviting her into his room. After giving her a quick peck on the lips he held her close to his chest.

Both relief and confusion flooded her at his unexpected response.

"You missed me?" She asked in a muffled voice, her face still buried in his sweater.

He hummed, the vibrations of his chest against her cheek. "Very much."

"You were in good company from what I saw." She stated, taking a step back.

He followed her and put his hands on her cheeks. "Aw, honey, those girls, they mean nothing. You're my bestest, favourite little girl, you know that."

Mary shrugged with a frown. "They're your fans, I guess I understand."

"You don't have to be jealous, Cherry."

"I know." She quickly answered, her tone firm.

He grinned. "The look on your sweet face says otherwise, you know that?"

"I'm not pulling a face!"

"You are! Right here-" He pecked her forehead. "And here!" Another peck to her lips.

"Okay, okay-" She chuckled, playfully pushing him away. "I got it! Jesus."

He cupped her chin, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. "Keep that happy face for tonight, wanna show you off."

"You do?"

"And I want you to look extra pretty tonight." For some reason his tone made the question feel like an assignment.

Mary blinked and looked at herself in the mirror before mindlessly playing with a few strands of hair, twisting it between her fingers before gathering it at the back of her head, feeling reminded of the times she had to present something at school with hardly anything prepared. "Oh, you know, I thought I could try this updo-"

He pressed a quick kiss to her exposed neck, making her giggle. "Honey, I'm sure you got that all figured out. What are you gonna do with your face?" His fingers softly grazed over her cheekbone.

She blinked at his statement before frowning the slightest bit and dropping her hair back down. "What's wrong with my face?"

"Aw, absolutely nothing, honey, it's perfect. My little baby's pretty as a picture, yes she is." He assured her while squeezing her cheeks and making kissing sounds as his face inched closer to hers.

"Silly." She giggled before quickly glancing back at the mirror, a questioning look on her face.

"No need to pout, Cherry. We left that behind us, remember? It's just, uh, your eyes are so expressive, I just want everyone to notice them. And I happen to know how to make em' look real good." He explained with a shrug.

Mary pondered his words for a second, still feeling a bit uneasy from his sudden mood shift.

"Come on, let me do this. Gonna look so pretty."

Upon seeing his pleading face she broke into a small smile and with a nod she leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his full lips. "Alright... but please don't make me look like a clown, okay?" She joked.

He pretended to consider it for a moment, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, before breaking into a grin. "Tempting, gotta admit that, Cherry."

As he gathered all the supplies from a small leather bag he'd retrieved from his drawer, Mary sat down on the chair, fiddling with her hands in her lap.

"Okay just look ahead baby, look at me." He instructed. Before he started he lowered his head and gave her a stern look, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, hold still now, would ya?"

Mary shakily exhaled, feeling nervous all of the sudden and nodded when he cupped her chin, his thumb softly caressing her skin. He leaned in closer, his scent completely surrounding her, making her heartbeat picked up in a second. She had to look down, feeling bashful under his intense gaze.

"Eyes on me, honey, look at me."

"Sorry." She quickly cleared her throat before focusing back on his eyes. However it didn't take very long until her gaze drifted to his full lips and she was utterly cativated by the way they hung open the slightest bit in concentration. It didn't take long for him to let out an impatient sigh. He lowered the brush and tapped her nose to get her attention. "Cherry, I need ya to look ahead for this to work."

"Okay, okay, alright, I'll do my best now." She mumbled, failing miserably at sounding determined. The fact that her face felt like it was on fire didn't really help. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the snow covered park across the hotel, yet she was convinced there were beads of sweat running down her back.

He cooed and lowered the brush. "Aw, I love it when you're all shy like this, honey. But ya got no reason to. It's just me, you know that."

"I know." Just you. Just Elvis Presley, she thought.

"Now close your eyes." He whispered softly.

Her eyes fluttered shut at his words and she nearly jumped when he carefully started applying the eyeliner on her upper lid.

"Cherryyyy, stop moving around." He gently chided her.

"I'm trying." She answered, suppressing a laugh. "It tickles."

Even though she couldn't see it, she could almost feel him smirking at her statement. Those were the same words she'd uttered the night before in a very different context, a shaking mess under his touch.

"You want me to help you keep still again?" He put a hand on her thigh and gave her a squeeze, making her gasp.

"I think I'll manage." She nearly squeaked in response.

After a few minutes that felt like hours he leaned back, finally finished, his eyes roaming over her face. "Oh, look at you, looking all pretty." He cooed and brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen over her eyes.

Mary blushed and inspected herself in the mirror, touching her face and blinking a few times. She raised her eyebrows and saw the finely drawn black wing. Her eyelashes fluttered, the mascara making them look impossibly long. "You're really good at this."

"Lips, honey."

She laughed when he retrieved a red lipstick from the bag. "I understand the mascara and eyeshadow but why on earth do you have this lipstick?"

"Might have sent Lamar to get it, should've seen his face."

"Oh god."

He cupped her chin again, his eyes narrowed, assessing his own work before moving closer again, making his chair creak slightly. She blushed as he reached out to apply the lipstick and had to fight yet another smile.

"Don't ya move now. I mean it, Cherry." He warned as he noticed the corners of her mouth twitching. A muffled sound escaped the back of her throat in a weak attempt to defend herself, but he quickly shushed her. "No talking either, I know that's hard for you, but I'm not done here."

Mary narrowed her eyes at his comment, but took a deep steadying breath, willing herself to do as he said while fighting a grin. It never ceased to amaze her how he could say something like this, yet remain utterly charming. It was almost scary how much he'd wrapped her around his finger.

Her expression became blank however as he actually started working on her bottom lip. It suddenly hit her how intimate the whole situation was and the tension was nearly too much for her to handle.

Mary's sudden compliance pleased him, she could tell by the way his gaze suddenly drifted from her lips towards her eyes with an almost unnoticeable quirk of his brow.

"There, cherry red lips for my sweet Cherrypie." He gently patted her cheek as he finished.

She let out a deep sigh of relief at finally being able to relax her face and breathe normally again and leaned closer to the mirror. With a tilt of her head from one side to the other she examined his work, still in disbelief that the woman in the mirror was actually her. A small smile spread across her face. "Oh wow"

He looked down at her with a satisfied smirk and promptly licked his lips when their eyes met. "Quit looking at me like that honey, or I'll make a mess of your lipstick."

With a blush she looked back at her reflection once again, appreciating how her blue eyes did look more expressive and how the bold red colour on her lips made her feel like a famous singer or actress. Someone with confidence.

"Aw, you look so beautiful. I could just eat you up." Elvis leaned in to playfully nibble at her neck.

"Thank you." She breathed, feeling her cheeks and neck get hot, as she squeezed his arm that was sprawled over her chest. They looked nice together, she thought, before he carefully tapped against her hips, urging her to get up.

"Now, baby, get changed, yeah? Put on your prettiest little dress, okay?"

When she returned to his room, still grateful that she had shamelessly over-packed her suitcase, she saw him sitting in front of the mirror, busy fixing his own hair.

Mary stepped closer and sat down on the edge of the bed, right behind him. For a while she just looked at him, admiring the way his nimble fingers gently held onto the comb in a practised grip. The way he just ran it through his shorter-than-usual hair with ease looked almost graceful and Mary couldn't resist scooting a bit closer to him until she could wrap her arms around his middle. She hoped she didn't bother him too much when she laid her chin on his shoulder. It seemed like their argument never happened.

"Anything you want, honey?" He asked eventually, a small gleam in his eyes.

"Why are your eyelashes longer than mine? It's not fair." She sighed, her fingers lightly dancing over his arms.

"They come in real handy, I'll tell ya. Making aaaall the pretty girls swoon." He drawled before reaching behind to lightly pinch her waist with a wink.

Mary giggled and leaned forward to press her her burning cheek against his cooler one. "They are swoonworthy." She agreed and continued studying his face in silent awe, once again marvelling at how utterly perfect he was. It was infuriating.

He smirked at her through the mirror when he felt her breasts pressing into his back. She felt him shift slightly. "Trying to start something, little one?"

His sultry voice sent delicious tingles through her entire body and she smiled briefly before shaking her head. "I love you." Her tone was gentle as she rubbed her hands over his dress shirt, slowly caressing his belly.

Her whisper made him coo and he slightly turned his body to face her. "I love you too, sweetheart. So much. See? We're made for each other, Cherry." He softly nuzzled her nose with his. "That's why ya should stay here. With me. It's easy like that."

Her mind involuntarily drifted to Elisabeth. And Anita. "It's not as easy as that." She answered, withdrawing just the tiniest bit, trying not to look remorseful.

He quickly shook his head. "No, no, no, just a second ago ya were being so sweet and now this again. Don't ruin it now."

"I'm just being honest." She shrugged.

"Me too." He insisted, pulling her close to him again.

A mean 'Are you?' nearly escaped her but she quickly swallowed before actually saying it out loud.

"I love you. That ain't enough for you?" He asked and furrowed his brows, his hand softly caressing her.

Mary bit her lip and lowered her head. After clearing her throat she looked up into his eyes again. "Of course... And it means so much to me that you want me here with you. Believe me, there’s nothing I’d rather do than just move here and spend every minute with you.” She smiled carefully and leaned in to hug him tightly. “You just surprised me, and leaving my family is a big deal. I’m sorry.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

“Aw, Cherry, it’s alright, don’t worry.” He held her close to him, gently rocking her back and forth with him. “And I-I know it’s a lot. Just want the best for you, gotta get that in your stubborn little head.”

She opened her mouth but he shushed her. “Just trust me on this. Let’s not talk about now, though, Cherrypie. It’s Christmas Eve.”

Mary nodded in agreement, but she knew they’d have to come to a decision soon. After all, as much as it felt like one; it wasn’t just a dream.

.................................................................................

Taglist: @karel-in-wonderland @kingdomforapony @richardslady121 @18lkpeters @godlypresley @everythingelvispresley

#elvis presley #elvis #elvis fanfic #elvis x oc #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley fanfiction #army elvis #1958 elvis

[jessybarnes]

Shake My Nerves, Rattle My Brain

Chapter Three: Below The Hard Deck

Pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

Chapter Characters: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell, Tom "Iceman" Kazansky, Nick "Goose" Bradshaw, Ron "Slider" Kerner, Dick "Jester" Hetherly, Rick "Hollywood" Neven, Henry "Wolfman" Ruth, Mike "Viper" Metcalf 

Rating: 18+ Only! Minors DNI

Tags: Angst, explicit language, sexual tension, pining, suggestive sexual thoughts, military talk, and I think that's it. 

Word Count: 1,5k

Beta: @winecatsandpizza

Title Card: Yours Truly

Maverick makes it just in time to begin his preflight checklist with Goose, who keeps questioning him about Iceman despite trying to focus. 

"I told you, Nick. Nothing happened. He's just trying to intimidate me, probably because he feels threatened, and I honestly don't care that much." 

Way to lie through your fucking teeth, Mav.

He busies himself with switching on the ground power, external air, and O2 switches, and even though he can't see his RIO, he knows he's giving him a 'this conversation isn't over' look. 

Whatever. At least he has time to think of a more convincing lie because there's no way in hell he's telling anyone about his feelings for Tom. Not even Goose because he knows as soon as he does there's only a matter of time before he tells his wife and then it'll spread around Miramar faster than he can hit Mach-2. He loves them, but honestly, they're not the greatest at keeping secrets. 

Once they're in the air he feels a weight being lifted off his chest. This is where he feels most at home and what better way to prove himself than to be the first one to get a missile lock on Jester? Maybe he'd get lucky and be the only one. 

"I got him! I got him! He's on our tail, coming hard!" 

Goose swivels his head left and right to try and gauge Jester's position and Maverick feels himself finally able to focus. He clears his mind of everything else and increases his speed, banking hard right. 

He sets his eyes on the mountain range ahead of him and begins to foil a plan.

"All right, talk to me, Goose." 

"He's still back there! He's closing in on us. He's closing fast!" 

Maverick turns the nose of his plane towards the rock face. He feels the adrenaline course through him as he anticipates the upcoming tone from his instructor's craft. 

"C'mon Jester. Let's see if I can give you a run for your money here." 

He lowers his altitude slightly and Goose's eyes widen as he points to a nearby peak. 

"Watch the mountains!" 

Maverick regains the height he previously had and veers left. 

"I still got him. He's still back there. C'mon, Mav. Do some of that pilot shit!" 

"Yeah, I got him." 

As soon as those words leave his mouth he hears the telltale sound of the target lock beeping in his comms. 

"Goose, I've had about enough of this shit. I'm gonna hit the brakes and he'll fly right by."

Maverick activates the air break while simultaneously pulling back on the stick hard enough to pull the nose of his plane nearly vertical. Once he's above Jester he disengages the brakes and steadies his F-14 so it's positioned directly behind his instructor. 

"Let's see what you've got now, Jester!"

Almost immediately, Jester begins a steady climb to try and use the sun as a shield, but Maverick anticipates this. It's what he would have done after all. 

"He's going vertical, so am I." 

"We're going ballistic, Mav. Go get him!"

Jester banks hard left and decreases his altitude and Maverick's hot on his tail. There's no way he's losing this opportunity while he has it in his sights. 

"He's going for the hard deck," Goose states. "Let's get down there first and nail him, Mav."

"No way, Jester. You're mine."

Maverick tilts his plane in a nose dive, chasing his instructor with laser focus. He flicks on his target lock and moves it until he hears the solid beep he's been waiting for since he took off. 

"I got you now. Whoo! Jester's dead!" 

Mav takes his time reorganizing his locker because Ice's is directly behind his and under no circumstances is he going to get caught staring at him whenever he comes in. There's too many witnesses, not to mention he's barely able to control himself as it is. 

Goose is still celebrating their win, bragging about it to the others as they dry off from their showers. 

"Yee-haw! Jester's dead!"

Wolfman shakes Goose's hand and lays back on the bench, "You won?! That's bullshit." 

"Didn't everybody?" Goose retorts.

"Hell no, man. We got our butts kicked!" 

Slider rounds the corner with Ice stating that they also managed to get a missile lock on Jester and it makes Maverick roll his eyes. Of course, they did. 

Someone mentions he and Goose's victory again, probably Hollywood, but Mav has his back turned to them so he can't be one hundred percent sure. 

"That's not what I heard," Ice mocks. And Pete feels his skin tingle. Tom better fucking watch it. He's on edge as it is, and he doesn't need Lieutenant Pretty Boy's smart mouth to make it worse. 

God, his fucking mouth… 

Jesus Christ calm down Maverick.

"No. No. Below the hard deck doesn't count," Slider reiterates the rule they were given and even though he's absolutely correct, Mav decides he'd rather be stubborn. 

"Hard deck, my ass. We nailed that son of a bitch." 

Ice pops a piece of gum in his mouth and laughs, "You guys really are cowboys." 

Okay, now he's had it.

"What's your problem, Kazansky?" 

Tom slams his locker and whips around to face him, stepping closer until they're toe to toe.

"You're everyone's problem. That's because every time you go up in the air you're unsafe. I don't like you because you're dangerous." 

Maverick's heart sinks to his stomach. Ice doesn't like him? Honestly, he shouldn't care. He doesn't want to, but the thought of being on the receiving end of his disapproval doesn't sit well with him. 

His sadness and self-doubt are replaced with anger almost instantaneously as he gets in Tom's face. To hell with all of his internal warning signals telling him that they still have an audience. 

"That's right, Ice…man," he snarls. And against his better judgment, he allows his fingertips to touch the leather fabric of the patch with his name sewn in it. 

Maverick's so close to his face that he can smell the mix of shower gel, and mint and he'd be lying if he said it didn't make his knees wobble. 

He's aware that he still hasn't finished his sentence, and that the number of eyes on him isn't going to decrease any time soon. But, of course, he can't resist the opportunity to touch him again, so he grabs his arms briefly for good measure. 

"I am dangerous." 

Iceman leans even closer, a primal look of dominance in his eyes as he gnashes his teeth together violently.

Mav feels his cock twitch at the thought of his skin being littered with marks from that mouth. 

Listen, at this point, he's a fucking goner. 

"Maverick!" Jester's voice makes him jump as he snaps his head to where his instructor is standing. 

"You and Goose get your butts out of that flight gear and up to Viper's office now!" 

Pete sighs as he scratches at a stain on his flight suit. He can't make sense of the way Tom acted earlier and it's wearing him out. He's always been a no-bullshit kind of guy. The kind that does what he wants, lives in the moment and doesn't let anyone get under his skin. Except, that's exactly what's happening here. 

In one moment, Ice is being an annoying asshole, and in the next, it's like he's into him. Almost like he feels the same way Mav does, only he's a bit more reserved about it. 

His door opens suddenly and Nick peeks around the corner, "You still awake?" 

"Yeah. What's up?" 

He takes a seat in the chair across from him and crosses his arms

"Listen, can we talk? I know you told me to drop it, but I'm worried about you. You're not acting like yourself and you're being more reckless than usual. I mean, that flyby you did on the tower earlier? We coulda been kicked out, Mav… just… just tell me what's going on."

Maverick scoffs, "Reckless? That was not reckless, Nick. I've done some sketchy shit in my life, but that? That was nothing."

Goose is patient with him. He knows his best friend struggles with his past and he can only hope that he opens up to him sooner or later. 

"Look, Mav…I'm not here to criticize you. I call it like I see it, and what I'm seeing is a Maverick I don't recognize. If there's something going on you know I'm always here if you feel like talking." 

He stands and pats him on the shoulder, "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" 

Maverick can feel the lump in his throat get bigger and he squeezes his eyes shut. No. He won't allow himself to cry over this, over something so stupid. He's Pete Mitchell for God's sake The one percent of the one percent. A fucking Naval fighter pilot. 

The door to his room clicks shut and he leans back into the cushions. Whatever this is, whatever is going on between him and Ice is only holding him back. He's going to finish what he came here to do. No distractions, no more wasting time. He's going to win that plaque. 

After all, there are no points for second place.

#j snow writes #top gun fanfiction #top gun #icemav #maverick x iceman #iceman x maverick #tom iceman kazansky #iceman #pete maverick mitchell #pete mitchell #maverick

[msclaritea]

"Biopics of massively famous musicians are rarely very good, often because they stumble at the question of whom exactly they’re being made for. Are you making a movie for the already initiated die-hard fans yearning to see the life and times of their hero reflected back at them in exacting detail? Or is your movie a welcome mat for novices, a breezy jukebox of greatest hits aimed at cultivating new generations of fans, goosing streaming tallies and catalog sales in the process? Most musician biopics never manage to resolve this tension, in part because they’re usually also serving a third master, namely the musician’s estate, which tends to hold its own, very specific ideas about on-screen depiction.

Bob Marley: One Love, the new movie about the late reggae superstar that’s produced by Marley’s widow, Rita, along with some of his children, is a biopic that does seem to know whom it’s for, which isn’t a point in its favor. The film is directed by Reinaldo Marcus Green (King Richard) and stars Kingsley Ben-Adir as Marley, who does his best with the role despite not really looking or sounding much like the real Marley. (Within the past four years Ben-Adir has played Malcolm X, Barack Obama, and Bob Marley, quite the triptych of historical figures.) Lashana Lynch plays Rita and steals the film in every scene she’s in, even if the movie’s script fails to elevate her character past the archetypical suffering-yet-supportive wife of a genius.

Rather than taking a cradle-to-grave approach to Marley’s life, One Love instead focuses on a single period of Marley’s career, his self-imposed exile to England in the aftermath of the 1976 attempt on his life at his home in Kingston, during which time he recorded Exodus, the 1977 LP that marked his full breakthrough into global superstardom. The film opens with the assassination attempt, after which we’re quickly whisked to London, where the film depicts Marley writing most of Exodus’ songs in a cloying series of “eureka!” moments that tend to populate movies of this kind. Snippets of Marley’s classic “Redemption Song” surface as a recurring musical motif in the film, and in one of the last scenes, we see Marley performing the song for his awestruck family in a sappy flourish that’s also anachronistic. (By most accounts, Marley didn’t write “Redemption Song” until 1979.) Periodically we’re treated to a series of flashbacks of the singer’s earlier life, a clichéd device that this movie could have used more of: Brief forays into Marley’s conversion to Rastafarianism are surprisingly well done, and a scene of a teenage Marley and the Wailing Wailers performing “Simmer Down” at Coxsone Dodd’s Studio One is the best moment in the film.

One Love is an inspirational tale about a Great Man who used music to unite the world, one that reduces one of the most consequential and complicated artists of the 20th century to a walking fount of genial aphorisms, the guy who suggested we all get together and feel all right. As such, the film indulges a decadeslong public appetite for a particular imagining of Marley that his estate now seems depressingly eager to feed. It’s been 42 years since Marley died of a rare form of melanoma at age 36, and I’m not sure there’s a musician who’s more literally iconic: Go to any commercial district in any part of the world and within minutes you’ll find an opportunity to buy something bearing Marley’s likeness. In the United States, Marley has been a staple of dorm-room walls for generations: The casual and underinformed co-optation of Marley by American bro culture has even inspired a recurring meme in which Marley’s name is erroneously affixed to an image of Jimi Hendrix.

To a certain brand of musical cynic, Marley has become the embodiment of a musician whom people own posters and T-shirts of but don’t actually listen to, which isn’t totally fair to most of the owners of those posters and T-shirts. Some of Marley’s music is still enormously popular: His 1984 greatest hits compilation Legend is currently enjoying its 820th week on the Billboard 200, a position it will likely maintain for the foreseeable future given One Love’s early, strikingly robust box-office projections. The only album that’s spent longer on the chart is Pink Floyd’s Dark Side of the Moon.

But in the pop-cultural imagination, Legend has completely eclipsed everything else Marley ever released. The album has sold more than 15 million copies in the United States alone, while no other Marley LP has sold even 1 million stateside. From a purely mathematical standpoint, this would indicate that for many fans, Legend is the first and only Marley album they’ll ever listen to. I’m not sure there’s another greatest hits compilation that has played such an outsize role in the public definition of an artist.

Legend is a fine little collection, but the idea that it’s some sort of one-stop synopsis of Marley’s career is absurd. For starters, 10 of its 14 tracks date from the period of 1977–80, a four-year time frame that represents the height of Marley’s global popularity but is a relatively minuscule cross section of a staggeringly prolific, nearly two-decade-long recording career. (Five of Exodus’ 10 tracks are included on Legend, which I suspect is one reason that One Love is so invested in the album’s significance.)

This period also coincides with a time when Marley’s music seemed to take a step back from revolutionary politics, a tack that may have been driven at least in part by the aforementioned assassination attempt. The Marley canonized on Legend is not the Marley who sang “I feel like bombin’ a church/ Now that you know that the preacher is lyin’ ” or who called for “burnin’ and a-lootin’ tonight … burnin’ all illusion tonight” or declared that “Rasta don’t work for no CIA.” The dominance of Legend in the U.S. is particularly striking when one considers that Marley’s highest-selling album in this country during his lifetime was 1976’s Rastaman Vibration, which peaked at No. 8 on the Billboard 200 and includes such overtly political tracks as “Crazy Baldhead,” “Rat Race,” and “War.” Legend doesn’t include a single track from Rastaman Vibration, instead opting for romantic fare like “Is This Love” and “Waiting in Vain” and feel-good anthems like “One Love/People Get Ready” and “Jamming.” (For an excellent deep dive into the history and legacy of Legend, I recommend this article from the Ringer earlier this week.)

One Day’s Director Has No Regrets About the Movie’s Controversial Ending

Legend’s preeminence has helped turn Marley into the musical equivalent of a tourist destination, at which One Love is just one more cozy attraction. This is worse than a shame, because the real Bob Marley was one of the most remarkable musical talents of the 20th century. As a songwriter, he was so prolific that music seemed to pour out of him, a quality that has sometimes led to a naturalization of his gifts that veers into exoticizing primitivism. (One Love certainly partakes in this.) But rather than being some carefree savant, Marley was a fiercely disciplined and ambitious artist from the very beginning. He wrote and recorded his first single, “Judge Not,” in 1962 at the age of 16, and it remains an astonishing debut, an effortlessly catchy melody sung by a voice that sounds both nervous and supremely confident in a way that only a teenager can manage.

By the time he signed to Island Records in 1972 and began his ascent to international superstardom, Marley had already written a lifetime’s worth of great songs. He had a preternatural ear for hooks and crafted songs that were ready-made hit records, three-minute gems of perfectly crystalized musical ideas. As a singer, his indelible tenor rasp and thrillingly improvisational style were the byproducts of an extraordinarily well-honed sense of intonation and time. And during the 1970s, he fronted what might have been the best band on the face of the earth, grounded in the peerless rhythm section of drummer Carlton Barrett and bassist Aston “Family Man” Barrett, the latter of whom died earlier this month at age 77. (Aston’s son and namesake, an accomplished musician in his own right, plays his father in the film.)

One Love doesn’t know how to begin exploring this artist and his art in any way that even begins to be interesting. Instead it just feeds back the same sanitized and saccharine idea of Bob Marley to the same audience who has been eating that up for generations. It’s a movie about a poster. Over the end credits of One Love, archival performance clips of Marley flash onto the screen, and for a few moments we’re treated to sounds and images that are infinitely more magnetic and thrillingly alive than anything we’ve seen over the preceding 100-ish minutes. That Bob Marley, and the extraordinary body of music he left behind, is still out there for those who go listening for it, but this movie isn’t where you’ll find him."

#Jamaica and The Legendary Marley Family Sell Patriarch Bob Marley Down The River For Weak Tepid White Washed One Love #Starring British Lavender Mafia Boy Kingsley Ben Adir #Irish Mob #Corrupt British Film Industry #British Thugs Allowed To Play Historic Black Figures #Malcolm X #Barack Obama #Hollywood Gay Mafia Connections #Scientology #Sony Pictures David Geffen #Warner Bros #David Zaslav #IAC #Barry Diller #Kingsley Ben Adir #David Oyelowo #Tom Hollander #Kristen Stewart #Elton John #Cillian Murphy #Stephen Fry #Mark Gatiss #Capote and The Swans Star Used In Threat Against Spiderman Star Tom Holland #British Parliament #BBC #ITV #Jamaica Compromised #Charlie Cox #Daredevil

[pillow-anime-talk]

b-day sex.

request: can i request a scenario of birthday sex with kirishima natsuya from free? 

# tags: scenario; current engagement relationship; b-day!au; romance; smut; nsfw

warnings: mention of sexual activities, blindfold, food play (whipped cream, strawberries, chocolate), body kisses, bit of pet names

includes: gender neutral reader ft. natsuya kirishima {free!}

author’s note: hehe :).

“I wish you all the best, my beautiful.” A low, male voice reached your ear just as a black, soft and satin headband covered your curious, light-filled eyes. After a while, instead of a slightly blue, nicely decorated bedroom, you could only see blackness and the smell of fruit and other accessories that were to play a very important role tonight.

The moment your fiancé gave you one of the juicy, indescribably sweet strawberries to try, you clenched your fists on the dark sheets with huge delight.

You were going to try something new for your sex life this evening. You’ve always been eager to learn new things, try more and more crazy positions, and you almost always used sex toys or other interesting things (such as handcuffs, harnesses, ropes and swings). On the occasion of your birthday, you both decided that you should choose another idea for your night together.

For several days you have been deeply involved in the theme of the so-called ‘food play’. You’ve read a lot about the most recommended snacks and sweets (and even alcohol and sweet drinks). You’ve also read where you shouldn’t put food and which additives will be the safest for the first time. So together you chose whipped cream, strawberries, chocolate in the athlete’s favorite flavor and fresh mint to decorate a few places (for example, your nipples).

After decorating your body with treats, your lover couldn’t get enough of this sight. The cream and fruit were located in all of your most sensitive points; on the mouth, neck, both breasts and collarbones, on the sternum and navel, on the pubic mound, thighs, knees, calves and ankles. You could see goose bumps on your body and your breathing was a little quicker. Nevertheless, the blindfold was still in front of your curious eyes.

“Hmm. Should I start at the top or the bottom, my angel?” Suddenly, you heard a curious question that you just sighed at. You wanted to bite your lip, but there was a sweet soft red fruit and one green leaf on it. Brown-haired took your lack of response as making his own decision. So he started from the very bottom. From ankles and calves.

His kisses and touch were gentle, calm, full of tenderness. Natsuya ate each fruit with the greatest pleasure on his face and enjoyed the still sweet, whipped cream in a perfectly white color. From time to time your breathing quickened and your legs twitched slightly. You were fascinated, filled with positive emotions.

Only when your fiancé ate the strawberries from your thighs, his hand with a smooth movement removed the black blindfold from your eyes. You blinked instantly as the clear light of a dozen candles hit your both eyes. Only after a while did you notice that your boyfriend is right next to your most vulnerable place. Just above the crotch, close to the pubic mound decorated with milk chocolate and juicy, sliced ​​strawberry.

“You’re sweeter than usual, and I thought it was impossible.” He chuckled while his tongue moved lasciviously over the sweet snack. “Delicious as always.”

And then again the swimmer’s lips met your warm, fragile skin, melted chocolate on your collarbones, and sweet berry on your lips.

It was a special, truly indescribable birthday.

#— 🍓 #free! #free! scenarios #free! imagines #free! x reader #free! x you #free! x y/n #free! iwatobi swim club #free! iwatobi swim club scenarios #free! iwatobi swim club imagines #free! iwatobi swim club x reader #free! iwatobi swim club x you #free! iwatobi swim club x y/n #kirishima natsuya #kirishima natsuya scenarios #kirishima natsuya imagines #kirishima natsuya x reader #kirishima natsuya x you #kirishima natsuya x y/n #natsuya kirishima #natsuya kirishima scenarios #natsuya kirishima imagines #natsuya kirishima x reader #natsuya kirishima x you #natsuya kirishima x y/n

[dumbbitchawards]

I have never met a single cishet who knows the term lipstick lesbian. Dr House do you mind answering a few questions

#he knows a little too much abt queer theory methinks #house md #house md 6x11 #house liveposting #gregory house #hugh laurie #mine #dumbbitchawards #goose's greatest hits

[bookgeekgrrl]

My media this week (18-24 Feb 2024)

i'll always prefer the og but this iteration is entertaining

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

The Old Codgers Greatest Hits Album (AggressiveWhenStartled, author; quietnight, narrator) - 57K series, canon-divergent stucky co-starring peter parker. Reread of this hilarious forever fave where first teenage peter is forced to deal with two body-swapped geriatric supersoldiers and then bucky is forced to deal with two teenage spidermen trying (and failing) to stealthily rescue their "dog". Great podfic by quietnight, absolute hilarity

History of American Capitalism (Zenaidamacrouras1) - 85K, shrinkyclinks college AU with superstar QB!Bucky & history nerd Steve - incredible found family dynamics, can't believe @zenaidamacrouras1 made me actually really get into an AU that involved both undergrads AND football. The nerve! The talent! (the fic is single POV but there's an amazing companion piece that's Bucky's convos with this sister that give a his POV on some of it and it's equally amazing)

💖💖 +347K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

Half sleep, half waking (softestpunk) - The Sandman & Rivers of London crossover: dreamling, 8K - amazing crossover! I wish there was 60K of this for me to read

Road to Joy (Oddree13) - Stranger Things: steddie, 25K - latest chapter in this omegaverse steddie series that I absolutely adore

Knit One, Purl Two (mollus) - MCU: stucky, 32K - reread; forever fave WS recovery fic with lots of softness in the form of: knitting, dancing, soap making and senior citizens

Red, White & Royal Goose (fairestfaerie) - RWRB: alex/henry, 7K - I just love a good Soulmate Goose of Enforcement fic

This Sunlit Land (eyres) - MCU: stucky, 38K - wonderful canon/timeline-divergent WS recovery AU

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Resident Alien - s1, e1-3

QI - series S, ep 7-9

D20: The Unsleeping City: Chapter II - "The Fall of New York City" (s7, e1)

D20: The Unsleeping City: Chapter II - "Heaven and Hell on Earth" (s7, e2)

D20: Fantasy High: Junior Year - "Stress Tested" (s21, e7)

D20: Adventuring Party - "A Negroni and a Bowl of Spinach" (s16, e7)

Ghosts (US) - s2, e16-22; s3, e1-2

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

Vibe Check - Hey, Sis: featuring Kimberly Drew

The Sporkful - Can A Restaurant Makeover Make Diners Spend More?

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Boston’s Blue Hill

Short Wave - The Life And Death Of A Woolly Mammoth

Desert Island Discs - Sheku Kanneh-Mason, cellist

I Said No Gifts! - Jay Jurden Disobeys Bridger

The Assignment with Audie Cornish - Where Does Fani Willis Go From Here?

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - World’s Loneliest House

⭐ Switched on Pop - Adult Contemporary, but make it cool (with CHROMEO)

Shedunnit - The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club (Green Penguin Book Club 1)

Up First - Julian Assange Extradition Hearing, Egypt Buffer Zone, Louisiana Special Session

Today, Explained - The Panama Canal is drying up

It's Been a Minute - Jada Pinkett Smith, the artist

Vibe Check - Welcome to Tip Check

Outward - True Detective: Night Country’s Lesbian Subtext

⭐ Code Switch - Why menthol cigarettes have a chokehold on Black smokers

Short Wave - When The Sun Erupts

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Stone of Destiny

⭐ 99% Invisible #571 - You Are What You Watch

Films To Be Buried With - Tyler James Williams

Ologies with Alie Ward - Black Hole Theory Cosmology (WHAT ARE BLACK HOLES?!) Part 1 with Ronald Gamble, Jr.

Off Menu - Ep 226: Noel Fielding

NPR's Book of the Day - 'Thank You Please Come Again' pays homage to Southern gas station food shops

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Buffalo Soldiers National Museum

The Assignment with Audie Cornish - Jake Tapper on American Political Scandal

⭐ Throughline - Dance Yourself Free (Throwback)

If Books Could Kill - The Better Angels of Our Nature

Our Opinions Are Correct - We Don't Give a F*ck About Canon

⭐ Today, Explained - Fight at the Museum

The Sporkful - Deep Dish With Sohla And Ham: Bagels

Dear Prudence - My Friend Has a Master’s Degree in Lying. Help!

What Next: TBD - The Coasts are Sinking

Short Wave - Didn't Get A Valentine's Love Song? These Skywalker Gibbons Sing Love Duets

Endless Thread - Endless Thread: The Musical

⭐ Twenty Thousand Hertz+ - Industrial Musicals

Strong Songs - "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden

You're Dead to Me - Queen of Sheba [turned out to be really perfect timing to have this knowledge right before getting to certain relevant bits in my current read The Adventures of Amina al-Sirafi]

It's Been a Minute - Have we hit celebrity overload? Plus, Miyazaki's movie magic

Simply Reflecting - Did You Say Delusional?

Under the Influence - Seeing is Believing: The Power of Demonstration Commercials

Hit Parade - The Bridge: Bon Soir, Barbra

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Chromeo

Living Colour

Chicago House Foundation

Presenting Soundgarden

Swing Fever [Rod Stewart & Jools Holland] {2024}

Adult Contemporary [Chromeo] {2024}

Campfire Classics

#sunday reading recap #bookgeekgrrl's reading habits #bookgeekgrrl's soundtracks #soulmate goose of enforcement #fanfic ftw #d20 #dimension 20 #chromeo #living colour #chicago house music #soundgarden #throughline podcast #switched on pop podcast #20k hz podcast #code switch podcast #99% invisible podcast #today‚ explained podcast #you're dead to me podcast #hit parade podcast #vibe check podcast #the atlas obscura podcast #the sporkful podcast #short wave podcast #it's been a minute podcast #strong songs podcast #what next: tbd podcast #up first podcast #ologies podcast #endless thread podcast #desert island discs

[mx-mongoose]

Goose. For the kiss thing. Glados. And Chell. Any prompt. Let Chell smooch that robot

I don't really know what prompt this is supposed to be T-T I guess this would be goodbye or because time ran out. But here it is!

Chell blinked open her eyes slowly as her vision started to piece together. She awoke on a circle-shaped elevated platform with handrails surrounding her from all sides. The sight she was greeted with however was two robots staring at her. There was an orange opticed robot in the shape of a Turret, except it having long legs, arms and it's body was slightly bigger then the original she was used to. The other right beside them was spherical, shorter and had a blue optic instead but still adorned the same limbs. That one specifiically reminded Chell of a certain blue core who she just sent to the moon and if this was Glados's way of a practical joke then it was way too soon.

Chell started to pick herself up, her muscles aching but nothing too bad. She grasped her sides where the burns were from the Stalemate Trap but noticed something wrapped around her waist tightly, she ran her fingers over the fabric of her tanktop and felt soft ridges underneath it. Bandages.

"Oh thank god, you're alright!" Glados cooed (Now that's something Chell never thought she would hear).

Glados was back to being a ginormous machine wired to the ceiling and thus back in power of The Facility once more. Chell expected herself to be quaking in fear and itching her trigger finger on her Portal Gun but somehow she felt safe, at ease even.

"Y'know... Being Caroline tought me a valuable lesson. I thought you were my greatest enemy, when all along you were my best friend,"

The wall-plates hummed and swayed calmy, a similar rythm to a heart beat.

"The surge of emotion when I saved your life tought me an even more valuable lesson,"

Her tone was so sweet and warm, too sweet if you asked Chell. Even after all they went through, Glados has never sounded like this. It gave Chell the feeling something was being set-up, like glancing down at a rug she was standing on only to see Glados gripping it between her hypothetical fingers. She was saying all the things Glados presumed Chell wanted to hear like them being best friends and changing for the better. This had 'Dangling a turkey leg on a rope hanging from the ceiling' written all over it.

But the real question why... Oh, who was Chell kidding? This platform was gonna give out and dunk her in a relaxation vault any second so she could continue testing.

"Where Caroline lives in my brain!" You could practically hear the forced smile through her words.

Then suddenly through the intercoms, there was long beep and everything froze.

"Caroline deleted," the intercom voice announced.

There it was.

"Goodbye, Caroline..." Glados shifted away from Chell and churned her downwards in solemn.

"You know, deleting Caroline just now tought me a valuable lesson. The best solution to a problem is usually the easiest one and I'll be honest, killing you is hard," Her voice returned to it's cold and monotone demeanor, for some reason it made Chell more at ease then the previous because at least everyone now is being honest.

"You know what my days used to be like? I just tested. Nobody murdered me, or put me in a potato, or fed me to birds. I had a pretty good life and then you showed up. You dangerous, mute, lunatic,"

The words sounded like Glados shoudl want her dead but for some reason it lacked that icey venom from when she really did mean it. It made Chell's eyebrows knit together and her gaze fixated on her intensely, trying to pick this situation apart the best she could. Nothing was adding up.

"So you know what? You win! Just go,"

Chell eyes widened as the platform rumbled beneath her boots and it started to raise upwords.

"It's been fun, don't-"

Chell hopped over a safety rail and plummeted off the platform towards the ground. Her Long Fall boots clicked once she hit the smooth surface, landing elegantly.

Glados jolted back in shock and then leaned down towards Chell, narrowing her shutters. "What did you do that for? It wasn't a trap, I promise. You need to work on your paranoia if you want to survive up there, that much anxiety will kill you instantly,"

Chell walked closer to her, a determined smirk growing on her face.

"I want nothing else to do with you!" Glados retorts defensively. "Now please go-

Chell caressed her hand on the smooth yet aged metal of Glados's head like you would the face of a person, rubbing her thumb softly. She pressed her lips near the right corner of Glados's optic, you could hear a small gasp escape Glados's thoughts and then jerked away from Chell's touch.

But Chell didn't mind, she only mouthed a silent "Thank you," and she didn't even try to hide the smile still present.

There was a silence between them except the faint intelligible chatter of the droids behind them.

"Ahem.." Glados choked out, even though she had no reason to. "Atlas, Pbody, please bring back down the elevator,"

Atlas and Pbody scurried off out of the chamber and to wherever control deck they needed to be to access.

"You could have left earlier if you didn't pull that little stunt, you even smudged my Core shell with your gross human mouth and now I might have contracted a disease despite that being impossible. That is how badly you screwed it up. I hope you're happy with yourself, what you did was very stupid,"

#portal 2 #Chelldos #Glados Portal 2 #Chell portal 2 #Drabble #Ask

[nobody7102]

Bestie?? I was wondering if I might be able to share a thought with you about Bob and his dad? (I do wanna apologize for the second half of the Ben Mears ask I sent I few days ago and if I ever do that again please.....for the love o Jesus, hit me over the head with a bamboo rod, lol). I've been seeing alot of thoughts about both the elder and the younger Pullman and it's making my brain go nuts, especially if Bob's dad was also a Top Gun pilot. I also heard a rather gruesomely funny story from our dear friend, Glen Powell, about an incident that occurred while filming and thought it might make you laugh.....so here goes.

So I have it in my head that Joe Floyd (Bob's dad) was in the same class as Goose, Maverick, Ice and the others and flew quite a few missions with them. He also earned the apt nickname "Foul-Mouth Floyd" (because some of the shit he says would probably have a Marine Corps. General rolling in his grave) and his callsign, "Rabbit" because him and his wife Irene had already had seven other kids with Bob being their youngest.

It was 1992, Joe was fresh off a mission in Kuwait and took a job as a flight instructor at Top Gun. Him, Ice, Mav and a few others were in charge of training new recruits who are as green as you can get and I mean GREEN. Joe's already dealing with enough at this point, the kids wreaking havoc at home and Irene being five months pregnant with Bob, so imagine his frustration when he gets stuck with an arrogant little prick fresh out of the Ivy League colleges whose attitude makes his blood boil. The whole while, the kid's like "oh I'm too good to puke in the plane", ya know, the whole nine yards.

Later on while they're up in the air, Joe notices the kid is starting to look really green around the gills and is getting worse as the minutes go by. He asks how he's doing and the little shit's like "Oh I'm doin just fine" (clearly he's not) and that's when Joe realizes this is his chance to teach the little shithead a lesson. He knows the kid's quietly reaching for the puke bag but doesn't say anything about it.

Joe informs the kid that they're gonna practice with a barrel roll and the kid's like "ok, gimme a sec". Before the kid has a chance to even blink, Joe does a double barrel roll and the contents of the bag and the newbie's stomach all go right back in his face and all across the glass canopy of the plane. The kid is horrified that his lunch literally came right back up in his face, but Joe's secretly laughing his ass off. Unfortunately when they land, that plane has to be scrubbed, sterilized and disinfected and it takes two whole days.

Years later, Joe tells the story to Bob and when Bob becomes a civy instructor and has to deal with an arrogant prick, he pulls a page from his dad's dirty playbook and does the same exact thing to the newbie he's been partnered with.

Bestie, I hope this little bit makes your day and makes you laugh, you don't have to do anything with it, it's just a little bit of comedy I wanted to share (lol), because picturing Lonestar from Spaceballs is making me laugh like an idiot.

IM DEAD AHHHHHHH! Rabbit is a fucken great name bc if Billy boy was in my life…. Same, lol

And babes there will never be enough Ben Mears content in the world.

God I remember watching that interview with Glen and I physically gagged, knowing that Joe probably does it(and probably did it to Jake bc let’s be real it was probably Jake he did it to) then BOB DOING IT?!

I know Jake saw that happen and after Bob landed on the tarmac, Jake stared at him for a solid two minutes before yelling “Holy Fuckballs!” And pointing to Bob “Joe Floyd!… God fucken damnit!” And he’ll slap his knee before going to get a drink bc Joe Floyd was his greatest instructor but god damn if he wasn’t scared shitless by the man

#lewis pullman #top gun maverick #top gun #bill pullman #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #Bob #hangman #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagines

[winxfairy866]

Okay I don’t know if I’m the only one who needs this but

I need a fic where the characters of top gun watch the top gun movies

It might be a little cheesy but y’all

- The daggers reacting to “twink Mav”

- Seeing Goose and Mav’s friendship

-The inverted scene

-The sexual tension that was Maverick and Iceman

- Then in Top Gun Maverick Phoenix yelling when Hangman and Rooster come on scene for the first time

-“Their ex’s your honor”

-Coyote agreeing with her bc they know

-Everyone seeing the “adventure” Mav and Rooster went one

-The push up scene

- Seeing how Hondo made sure no one bullied his nephew

-The beach scene

-Everyone yelling about Roosters jorts

-The hard deck scene where everyone is introduced

Just the OG Naval Aviators and the Daggers reacting to there greatest hits

*Let me know what scenes you would like the characters to react to*

#bradley rooster bradshaw #hangster #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun #pete maverick mitchell #daggerteam #tom iceman kazansky #choas #fic ideas #natasha phoenix trace #I need someone to write it please #for my sanity

[welleducatedinfant]

in honor of my beloved brother’s birthday here’s some of their greatest hits

happy birthday silly goose I love you so much everyone say happy birthday to my lil brother RIGHT NOW!!!!

@cicadaboybat

#chawlie #infant speaks

[caduceuss]

CHARACTER STUDY: Battle

BOLD what applies, italicize what is situational.

fight honorably / fight dirty / prefer close-quarters / prefer range / chat during / go silent / low pain tolerance / high pain tolerance / attack in bursts / attack steadily / go for the kill / aim to disarm / fight defensively / strike first / provoked easily / provoke their opponent / tease / get visibly frustrated / shout while attacking / use strategy / focus on their battle / experience conflicting thoughts during battle / rush in recklessly / reads their opponent before fighting / fight wildly / fight calmly / fight with anger / fight with excitement / fight because they have to / fight because they want to / fight without regard to wounds / run away when wounded / take care of wounds / hide wounds / take a blow to protect another / prefer a blade / prefer a gun / prefer to use their ability / prefer a bow / prefer a shield / prefer a polearm / prefer a personalized weapon / prefer magic or spells / prefer their fists / their greatest weakness is physical / their greatest weakness is mental / their greatest weakness is emotional / transform for battle / fight as they appear / rely on strength / rely on speed / use everything they have / hide their full potential / exhaust quickly / high stamina / doubt their strength / proceed with caution / behave arrogantly / brag after landing a hit / belittle their abilities / use psychological tactics / use brute strength / avoid civilians / strike down civilians / damage surroundings / avoid damaging surroundings / signature fighting style / making it up as they go / mastered skillset / learning their skillset / use improvisation / fancy footwork / sloppy footwork / messy fighter / elegant fighter / accept defeat / refuse defeat / beg for mercy / compliment their opponent / insult their opponent / use flamboyant movements / move efficiently / barely move / prefer to dodge / prefer to block / defend their blindside / has no blindside / use all available advantages / strictly use one main method / play around / hold back / fight ruthlessly / show mercy / wait for opponent to be ready / strike when opponent isn't ready / fear death / fear pain / fear killing / has PTSD / avoid fighting / has lost a fight / has won a fight / has killed / refuses to kill / wants to die standing / would succumb slowly.

TAGGED BY: @foliarlight (ty juno chirp chirp) TAGGING: if you've done this already or been tagged i apologize in advance but once again, goose dumb. @ecleips, @eunoirous, @foliarsanct, @ragnvindawn, @zorkaya, @divinepearl, @supportingfire, @baishouqijia, @wcndererr, @transgressed

#´ ･ . ☤ ━━ headcanon ⧼ 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐚 ⧽ #´ ･ . ☤ ━━ dash games ⧼ 𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐚 𝐚𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜 ⧽ #yeets this out #soon we will get to see him FIGHT #and i am so excited alksdjflaksdfj

[denimbex1986]

'It is absolutely no secret that Christopher Nolan is a beloved and respected filmmaker. We're talking about the man who made "The Dark Knight" for heaven's sake. Few people have ever managed to marry blockbuster filmmaking with artistic expression quite like him, save for a select handful such as Steven Spielberg and a few choice others. He's a rare breed and, with "Oppenheimer," the man has arguably cemented himself as one of the very best box office bets we have today — if not ever. This is not hyperbole either, as Nolan pretty much only makes big ass hits, save for a couple of caveats across his career, which has spanned well over two decades at this point.

Even against remarkably huge competition from "Barbie," Nolan's latest pulled in $82 million on its opening weekend domestically to go with $97.7 million internationally for a $180.1 million global debut. Even against a $100 million budget, that represents a huge win for Universal Pictures, especially because "Oppenheimer" will almost certainly be in the awards season conversation later this year, if not a shoo-in for the Best Picture nomination at the Oscars. It also ranks as one of the biggest R-rated openings ever, just behind "The Passion of the Christ" ($83.8 million), narrowly missing the top 10.

"Oppenheimer" now represents Nolan's biggest opening weekend ever for a movie of his that doesn't have Batman in it. Yes, it somehow managed to out-perform the likes of "Inception" ($62 million opening) and "Dunkirk" ($50.5 million opening), despite the fact that those were seemingly better commercial bets. A three-hour biopic about the guy who made the A-bomb that is mostly people talking and doing science isn't quite as flashy as a full-stop World War II movie or a mind-bending, mind-heist flick. But that speaks volumes about Nolan's credibility with the moviegoing public.

A ridiculous track record

The fact of the matter is that this is just par for the course for Nolan at this point. Particularly since delivering a $1 billion smash hit with "The Dark Knight" 15 years ago, the man has been on an absolute tear that was only briefly interrupted by a pandemic. Even that didn't totally stop him, as "Tenet" made $363 million when people were still mostly staying home at the height of Covid in 2020. One imagines that movie would have made a whole lot more had Warner Bros. and/or Nolan waited to release it until marketplace conditions improved. But there's also something to be said about him trying to keep theaters afloat during a downright terrible time.

Nolan is currently the eighth highest-grossing director in history, with his dozen feature films raking in more than $5.1 billion worldwide. He sits just ahead of J.J. Abrams and just behind David Yates, but Nolan doesn't have seven "Harry Potter" movies under his belt to goose his total. Yes, he's got his "Dark Knight" trilogy, but the most impressive thing about Nolan's resume at this point is that he's accomplished so much of this with hit blockbuster originals, much like he's doing right now with "Oppenheimer."

At the very top of the list is Steven Spielberg, with $10.6 billion to his name, but that's across 36 movies. Other names in the top 10 include Peter Jackson ("The Lord of the Rings"), Joe and Anthony Russo ("Avengers: Endgame"), and Michael Bay ("Transformers"). All of them have more franchise films under their belts. Nolan stands out.

Nolan's greatest hits

After scoring one of the biggest hits in history with "The Dark Knight," Nolan followed that up with an ambitious (and expensive) original sci-fi thriller in "Inception." Despite having a potentially tough concept to execute and sell, the movie was an absolute smash hit, taking in $728.5 million worldwide and earning a Best Picture nomination at the Oscars. Nolan would follow that up with "The Dark Knight Rises," which earned $1.08 billion and was DC's biggest movie ever at the time, but he's yet to make another franchise film since.

Next was "Interstellar" which, on the surface, had a sellable concept but proved to be a pretty heady, emotional trip. Audiences again turned out in droves, with the film making $647.8 million against a $165 million budget. In other words, another home run. What next? How about a World War II movie telling three parts of the same story from three different timelines in the form of "Dunkirk." $150 million budget, $512.3 million at the box office. Nolan is simply unstoppable. "Tenet," released under better circumstances, would have undoubtedly kept this amazing hot streak going.

Even his earlier, more modestly budgeted films such as "The Prestige" ($104 million/$40 million budget) are damn respectable. Plain and simple, Christopher Nolan does not miss. He budgets reasonably for the film at hand and audiences trust him almost implicitly now. If there's a safer filmmaker to bet on working today at this scale, and at this level of consistency, I'm struggling to find them. Sure, James Cameron knocks it out of the park every time, but we're lucky to get a movie from him once a decade at this point. Nolan is doing it every two or three years. That's impressive.'

#Christopher Nolan #Oppenheimer #The Prestige #Interstellar #Dunkirk #James Cameron #Tenet #The Dark Knight #Inception #The Dark Knight Rises #Steven Spielberg #Peter Jackson #Joe and Anthony Russo #Michael Bay #J.J. Abrams #David Yates #Barbie #Universal Pictures