#otp: old friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

voidthewanderer · 4 months

Note

Public: 14 for Sweetjane x Ripper. Hier sind kekse.

@bleumanouche || Location Based Smut Prompts

Public #14: inside an abandoned house.

This takes places before the duo would be officially married, but sometime soon, I feel. Ripper wanting to show off some of his old stomping grounds. And yes, I did the math, It would take like seven days to walk from Boston to Atlantic City. This was not easy to do as apparently there are ZERO walking paths into AC. I may have been able to sneak in that thing you mentioned to me about Sweetjane finding some old pictures of Rips before the war too. I clearly wanted to write. I didn't realize just how much I did. Whoops. This is a long one; my longest prompted writing, I do believe. I honestly had to break early with how long this was. Please send help.

As always, lemme know if I need to change anything up on her vocal quirks; her's is super unique and I don't wanna mess it up!

MDNI🔞: 18 + CONTENT UNDER CUT Word Count: 2,302

The trip down to Jersey had been longer than normal; though Ripper had an excuse this time around. There wasn’t a chance in hell that he was going to let Sweetjane even try to stay up for the entire nearly five day trip it was going to take just to even make it to the border of New Jersey, let alone the additional two days to specifically get to his old stomping grounds. He wasn’t exactly sure what would’ve been left of Atlantic City, but it would’ve been nice to even see.

He’d doubted that there would’ve been much of anything involving his childhood home, especially after his parents had moved a bit further north once his grandmother had needed more medical attention. But, he’d spent a good nearly thirty years of his life in the old gambling city and he wanted to share what was still left with his soon-to-be wife. Maybe it’d be a decent settlement, someone got some of the casinos up and running somewhat proper, even if they were just playing games like caravan. Just to have a little bit of fun.

Not to mention, it had been the first time in a while since he’d really just gotten to spend time with the one he loved; just him and her. Yeah, they spent time together, but they were still in fairly public settings… Too close to other people where he could whisk her away when the mood felt right and not get the looks before or after the fact. It wasn’t a secret by any means, they were just sometimes annoying.

“How much long’a till we get there, Rippa?” Sweetjane couldn’t help but yawn as she spoke, the sun was just starting to set.

“Mol’s takin’ her time, innit she?” he hummed, “She’s probably gettin’ tired too. If I’m right, we’re just gettin’ outta Absecon now. We’ll probably hit Atlantic City by complete nightfall. We can stop for th’ night if ya want, though.”

“Nah, le’s get ‘ere. Get th’ whole day ta look around in th’ mornin’.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he hugged Sweetjane close to his side, nearly pulling her into his lap, “Just remember, you can lay down if ya want. I think I can steer Molly by myself for another few miles.”

Despite his suggestion, Sweetjane stayed away, cuddled up close to Ripper. He kept his arm tight around her waist, making sure she was stable on the seat of the carriage. He knew he could protest to her staying awake as much as he wanted, she’d stay up to be with him longer. It was fine, he certainly didn’t have a problem with it, especially since he knew he’d hopefully be seeing the city’s light cresting over some settlement walls soon enough.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be. A roadblock ahead caused him to perk into high alert. He carefully shifted Sweetjane to the side, pulling up the bandanna he’d kept around his neck. There was just something about the area; they were either completely fine with ghouls or hated their guts, there was no in between. He didn’t want to know what this area was like. As they’d gotten closer, he started to suspect that it had been raiders trying to get a quick cap or two off of passing traders and caravans.

“We’re gonna take a detour; I don’t trust these guys,” Ripper furrowed his brow, trying to get his brahmin to turn on the nearby intersection. He could see the group take aim at him, him keeping his hand on his own gun, though they never fired. The next road was a few miles away.

“Well… guess we’re takin’ a trip t’ the childhood home,” Ripper kept his eyes forward now, unsure of what exactly they’d find.

“Ya gonna be good with ‘at?” Sweetjane looked to her partner as he pulled the bandanna back down, seeing him shrug before she’d even finished her question, “It is what it is. Knew Gamma kept the house even though she basically lived with my parents full time just outside’a Morristown, but who knows what over two-hundred years has done t’ it, y’know?”

“If yer alright wit it.”

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if he would be or not. He hadn’t seen his childhood home in nearly thirteen years, not including the time that had passed from the bombs. This area seemed to be worse for wear, but not terrible. However, looters were still a thing and his grandmother did have a lot of stuff people would have long since used for scrap for other things. Part of him hoped that it would’ve been left relatively alone.

It had taken a little bit longer, but his grandmother’s old house was soon in view. It had seemed unharmed; graffiti on the outside, but structurally sound. He pulled Molly and the cart around the back of the house, helping Sweetjane down before taking her hand, “Let’s get inside before it gets too late.”

He went to push open the door, finding it was locked. Sweetjane watched his shoulder drop slightly in his sigh, having her take a step back. Firmly planting a foot in the earth, his forcefully kicked the door, foot connecting below the handle. He gave another kick, the door swinging open.

Sweetjane approached, resting her hand on his forearm, “Ya alright?”

“Yeah… Just… didn’t think I’d ever have t’ break into my grandmother’s house.”

“Ey, means ‘er stuff’s gotta be safe, right?”

“Yeah, probably. Dunno how long it’s been since she’s actually been in th’ house.”

She took his hand again, gently pulling Ripper inside. He’d kept his gaze to the floor, not wanting to see the state of what it could have been. Fingers lightly caressed his jaw, forcing him to look up, the feeling in his heart mixed.

The place had been completely untouched by time. A thick layer of dust, but everything remained where it was. He was breathless when he did speak, “It’s still… It’s all still here…”

“How ya holdin’ up?”

“I’m just… I’m stunned. Nobody’s tried breaking in or anything… I’m thankful… but god, didn’t realize how not ready I was t’ see this.”

He took Sweetjane’s hand, leading her through the kitchen and into the living room, talking about his childhood in the house, every story he could remember, his tension seeming to leave as he shared his life with her. And Sweetjane was quite happy to hear the stories, getting to further understand her partner’s life.

“Ah… y’know what? Lemme get somethin’ in front of th’ door. Go make yourself at home, wanna make sure we’re safe. God knows how close people are t’ here.”

Ripper went back to the kitchen and Sweetjane started to look through the various knicknaks that littered almost every single shelf. Her eyes specifically stopped on a worn box between some books. She pulled it out, carefully taking the lid off, not wanting to damage it or whatever may be inside.

Photos aged with the time, the yellowed paper begging to be viewed. Using the lid of the box to clear some of the dust off the couch, she sat, shuffling through the photos. Reading the backs of each photo before actually viewing them. Most of them were labeled with Ripper’s former name, Joseph, the year it was taken, and a location. One photo in particular made her set the entire box down, her just admiring the man in the photo.

He’d been sitting on a railing, in a conversation with somebody out of frame, a large smile on his lips, features of his face just slightly obscured by his long, wispy hair. Patches littered his pants, all looking home made, leather jacket sporting some, though not nearly as many as his pants did. She couldn’t make out any of the words or anything on them.

Soon enough, Ripper had returned, sitting next to her, “Whatcha got there?”

“Found some pict’as,” she showed Ripper the one she’d had in her hand. Rather than seeing him brighten, he seemed to shrink into himself slightly, “Damn… I really have changed… haven’t I?”

“Ey, ‘at ain’t a bad thing.”

“Yeah… but… damn. I dunno, ‘s different when ya see th’ difference, y’know?”

“Chiriklo,” Sweetjane’s voice was firm, “Th’ yea’ on this is 2064, how old were ya?”

“Shit, I was twenty-three. Cody was three, I was in my… third semester of college, I think. Amelia took this picture… think we found out a month later she was pregnant with Amy.”

“Yeh, so ya were still a babe. C’mere…”

Ripper kept his eye on Sweetjane, though he didn’t really move. She put the picture down, opting to move herself, pushing him back against the couch and straddling him, “People grow an’ change. ‘S life. I don’ care what ya looked like then an’ I don’ care what ya look like now. Yer still my Rippa. My Chiriklo.”

Hands worked under his shirt, causing a small gasp, “Oh, Tesoro…”

He drew his hands to her thighs, sliding them beneath her skirt so he could touch skin. He savored the touch, his own hands wandering up closer and closer to her hips; his fingers eventually able to brush against her groin. He brushed his thumb against her bud, watching her take a small breath at the sudden touch. His hands shifted back to her joints, guiding her slightly to rock her hips against him. She did and he took a breath, having to pull his hands away to free himself from his pants.

Just as he went to guide himself to her entrance, Sweetjane took over, causing Ripper to let out a breath. His gaze fell low, watching his cock press deep into her cunt. He rested on hand on her ass, grip somewhat tight as he let her take lead. He lit up watching her rock her hips against him, watching his cock dipping inside of her with each arch. He used his free hand to push up her top, rough finger teasing her perking nipple. She brought herself down quick as she gasped, rising a groan from the ghoul as well.

“Fuck… ya know just what t’ do… always…” Ripper breathed out, guiding Sweetjane to try and move a bit faster. He arched his own hip slightly, giving small thrusts each time she brought herself down on him. He felt her breath quicken, muscles tightening as they pressed on with their consummation.

“C’mere…” Ripper lightly pressed against her shoulder, pulling her against his chest. He wanted to draw her in for a kiss; one that he savored completely. He pressed his tongue into her mouth, tangling his fingers into her hair, keeping her as close as humanly possible. He felt her swallow a moan as she neared a climax, him feeling how on edge she was.

“Rippa…”

“Your doin’ amazin’…”

Sweetjane went to sit up slightly, Ripper resting his hand between the small swells of her breasts. Oh was her heart absolutely racing… He was surprised that she wasn’t being louder, how on edge he knew she was.

“C’mon… give in… I know ya want to…”

The low croon of Ripper’s voice, it had been just enough to get exactly what he’d asked; her letting out a loud moan in her climax, hips dropping down to completely take his cock inside her. He continued to guide her to keep moving, though, his thrust growing a bit stronger, more rhythmic. He wasn’t showing a sign of stopping anytime soon; not that either one of them seemed to care. Neither cared if people could hear them, for the night? This was their house.

Both hands fell to her hips now as he went to take over her movement, letting her just relax and enjoy the rest of the ride. She arched back up, her hands supporting against his thighs as he held her steady to take over his pace. Nearly every thrust rose some sort of whimper or moan from Sweetjane; his own voice trying to encourage her to make more noise. It was just them… as far as he was concerned. If their tryst attracted the attention of passerbys… Well, hope they enjoyed the show.

Ripper rolled his head back against the dusty cushion to let out his own groan on one particular thrust inward. Sweetjane shifted so she could look at Ripper, “Rippa please.”

This raised a snort with a small laugh, “Impatient are we?”

She moved, pressing herself up against him, him letting out another groan, “F-fuck…”

Another thrust and he felt her fingers curl into his shoulders, “Tease.”

He couldn’t even complete his thrust upon his release, pressing himself completely inside as he let out a moan. Sweetjane bared down slightly as well, her letting out a shaky breath following her own moan. Ripper inhaled, his hands wandering up her waist to rest at her ribs, fingers brushing against her skin, “Goddamn… Never gonna get over how fuckin’ amazin’ ya are…”

Ripper went to push up from the couch, “C’mon, I’ll bring ya t’ my old room. Sleep in a normal bed t’night.”

Not giving her a chance to even get up, Ripper easily scooped Sweetjane up into his arms, keeping her tucked close to his chest. She’d seemed fairly zoned out at that point, a momentary bliss from the long travels the two had. Providing her that relaxation was always a happy plus for him.

A small struggle to get into the bedroom and Sweetjane soon found her bed against the bed, the ghoul’s larger frame quickly tucked up against her side. She rolled over to face Ripper, him hugging her close against his chest, “Go t’ sleep, darlin’. We’ll get t’ Atlantic City tomorrow. Jus’ spend an extra day there.”

“Yeh… I love ya, Rippa.”

“Love ya too, Sweetjane.”

#shut it void #friend talk #bleumanouche #ripperxsweetjane #oc: ripper #*void writing #i had a lot of fun with this one i really did #otp: old fashioned love song #bleumanouche: sweetjane ledet

6 notes · View notes

snixx · 5 months

Text

they don't know about my dark past (i was close mutuals with the most passionate finchel and mileven shipper on the goddamn planet for almost as long as i've been on tumblr and longer than i've had this account)

#if it weren't for her id still believe finchel shippers and milevens were a lie like no one can be PASSIONATE about THEM right #okay but honestly i dont give a shit. im from the glee fandom everyone there is besties with people who hate your otps and blorbos #and drag each others ships all the time and ship like kurtbastian or smth #and tag properly (mostly)#i guess that was my tolerance era. id never follow a finchel now #15 year old me: we can have none of the same opinions on fandoms and still be friends! hashtag maturity #me now: yeah but honestly im just here to vibe if 90% of what you post annoys me im not gonna follow you or seek out a friendship lol #(old mutuals im here to stay though however much you spam my dash with things idgaf about)#(i still loved her but we blocked each other 2 months ago because she turned out to be a hardcore zionist she can go to hell if i care now)#anti finchel #anti mileven #anti milkvan #but damn the way she was probably the longest moot id had at that point

7 notes · View notes

anqelwiithhxrns · 1 year

Photo

you and me have a whole lot of history. Valarie Davenport & Nate Archibald in Rich Kids

#valarie davenport #nate archibald #otp: sometimes the stars align for two old friends to come together #fyeahgossipgirlocs #allaboutocs #ocappreciation #web weaving #my edits

14 notes · View notes

windydrawallday · 3 months

Text

One of my other favorite things about shipping fictional characters and making stories with them is telling experiences that go beyond the usual perfect "these two meet and become OTP in the instant" and/or are planned to be OTP at the end of the road. I mean, I'm the crazy shipper that can pair even a bunch of characters that barely mention each other meeting off-camera in canon x'D

But I find fascinating these types of scenarios that are "less perfect" and full of bumps on the road: those of beings that find themselves in need of rebuilding again a bridge of feelings that was severed by death (and even separation, a little "dead" still alive but not with you anymore in their lives).

In contrast to the usual "encounters destined to end together" here experiences are already tainted with grief and a sense of resignation… but at the same time, questioning if it will be possible for these experiences to serve any other purpose after these events. "The Love after the Love" (a spanish song I had on repeat all this week) it's what I like to call it.

And I think it can become one of the most hopeful scenarios to play around with because it is very real and something that could happen even to OTPs "Happy Ever After"'s…

[TW/CW for mentioning a real person's death and grieving]

I need to put in parallel a personal family experience about this same theme: I always remember dearly one of my uncles from my mother's side of the family who had a partner, and they looked SO PERFECT together. Good, sweet, hardworking people. Never saw sadness in their faces, always sharing trips and plans together… I almost fell envious of their sons and daughters for having such perfect parents haha

Until my aunt died during bad electricity management in her laundromat shop. I never saw a man as sad and emotionally destroyed as my uncle. It was plain painful to see him, like a ghost haunting his own home. We tried to support him during that first year of grieving until we saw he was ready to go on his own.

Then, after another year, he confessed to us (I was always happy he confided in my side of the family) that he was seeing a new partner but that he wasn't sure if keep doing it. We asked why to him, and the answer, to this day I think, is one of those that I have carved deeply on my memory: because he felt he was unrespecting his past partner.

This memory feels a bit fuzzy for me right now (this was… idk 12 years ago now?!) but I can remember clearly my mother telling him that he needed to stop feeling guilty for something that was out of his control (the death of his partner) and to think in his own happiness too. That for sure aunt would have approved of him living on because she knew he is a very lovely man full of love who deserves to not let that love die with her memory.

That it will be harder to start over, that's a given. But if he felt the need to build that bridge again but in a different direction, why hold it back?

And that experience became one more brick in my life that cemented for me that love doesn't die… once. Or it can't be killed on that first try. You will build many bridges, burn half of them, seeing part of them fall from catastrophes out of your control. But I can assure you you will always find a way to build a bridge again.

Not just because of a partner, or a new partner, or a partner after that one. Because we all hold a love so great it's unfair to let death be the end of it.

Before death definitely arrives to snatch your heart, keep loving. For the sake of love. Love is worth the effort, the pain, and the lessons.

Because loving is living. And living is a daring thing to do, to spit against death and say "My heart still beats, still exists, still feels".

That's the reason why I like putting these scenarios in fiction to. Again, I'm a sucker for angst too, and seeing a pairing endure death and separation but this? Letting my beloveds find a way out of the past, accepting that they are still living and worthy of finding someone that loves them even when carrying these broken parts, to share their most dear experiences with them? That's my jam, so much!

And if that's not the most hopeful message you can leave to this world, I will buy a hat and eat it.

PS One more additional note: with this, I want to validate too that a "Love after Love" never EVER loses its value after the first time: love just gets STRONGER!

#windy squeals #cw death mention #death mention cw #cw grief #grief cw #please dont let me buy a hat and less eat it #no but seriously: its a little funny so far this become the year of “grieving love” for me #i got a friend thats dealing with a heartbreak another thats dealing with cutting ties with old friends #and here i am playing that same theme of Love after the Love in fiction has a way to lowkey cope too with my own past loss #and is so VALIDATING #THERES MORE LOVE AFTER DEATH AFTER CUTTING TIES AFTER THE PAIN AND THE SEPARATION #im all sappy right now orz #ill make some tea and eat my chocolate cookies i saved for today #another addemdum to the last PS #and my reason to keep shipping characters after shipping other characters #i dont believe love dies with one OTP #my beloveds deserve to find love and be loved again #i think thats a more beautiful ending for them than just plain letting them grieve forever #and that it doesnt need to be a new pairing either to fill that ending #it can be a found family or a friendship/brotherhood of friends #love has no limits so imagination either!

4 notes · View notes

pollyna · 1 year

Text

Everybody, including their mothers and grandmothers, knows Iceman eats and snacks around every time he can. Preflight, postflight snack, a gum in his mouth chomping away most of the day, and, if he has enough, even during their flying time because he can, and so he does that too. What a significant smaller number of people knows, and that's probably Slider and Mav himself, is that Ice can appear like someone who eats whatever you put in front of him, but he can be picky, not that much that everyone notices but enough to start an argument with Slider over lunch.

("Ice c'mon leave it alone"

"Sli, you know I don't touch that thing"

"Iceman please, stop, we are already being over this" pointing their plates and then the both of them "thousands of times."

"And then you know I'm right, Slider"

"Tom!"

"Ron!"

"Thomas leave it be"

"Ronald, for the love of God, stop being such a child"

"Thomas Jacob!"

"Ronald William!"

Months later, Mav is still unsure what the problem was.)

So, when Mav decides he's going to ask Ice out for a date (to spend the rest of your life together, had mock Goose) he can't help but try to guess what Ice isn't going to like to find on his plate. And it's fucking hard because the man just eats and snacks, and it seems so random that he almost gives up the idea of cooking for him and just takes him out for a burger and fries or a pizza. But then Slider approaches him with a half-hearted exasperated smile and says, "Listen, Shorterick, Ice is going to love everything you're going to make him, even if it's half burnt and non-edible. But, just as a little help so you can finally put an end to my sufferings, Ice likes red M&M's, he doesn't eat stuff made with oranges, but he drinks and eats them if they're fresh, he fucking hates capers and can't stand to find onions on his plate, but he can live with it, he's a grown boy these days, so no problem. But please, please Pete, don't try to give him stuff with cinnamon in it and try not to eat cinnamon chewing gum before being in his vicinity because he didn't hook up with Cougar because they were his favourite flavour of chewing gum."

"He was going to ho-"

"Mitchell! Not the point now. He doesn't have any allergies, so don't worry about that. And please kiss him, okay man? Give the entire squadron a break from whatever you two have going, please."

He's out of the room before Maverick can even think of saying anything, and for once it was all going to be a thank you.

(It takes Maverick another month and a half to master the courage to ask Ice out, but when he does, the other man's smile is so big and genuine that they almost end up kissing right there, in the middle of the O Club. The dinner is a success, and when Mav starts to divide the M&M's for the movie, Ice kisses him so hard that they both lose their balance and half of his work ends on the floor, but it all has so little importance because they're both laughing and kissing, and oh god, Mav really loves this man and he has the nagging feeling that this particular man loves him too.)

#as for many thing i have opinions™️ on food so #ice has opinions™️ on food #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #nick goose bradshaw (mentioned)#first date #first kiss #homemade dinner #icemav #top gun (1986)#otp: things get old our love is gold #ron slider kerner #he's the best of friends #like c'mon he just rocks it all #iceman & slider friendship

508 notes · View notes