#top gun isn’t accurate

[thatsrightice]

They’re inaccurate, trust me I know. But the medals the aviators in Top Gun wear are cool and have meanings and map out a person’s military career.

Many caught my eye, but one in particular had me thinking, the Humanitarian Service Medal. In my research I found a table of approved operations for the HSM award put together by the government. That means he would have had to participate in and assist in one of the operations on the list. On the list I searched for one that caught my eye from the late 70s to early 80s, prior to Top Gun where Iceman and the others are seen wearing them, and one stood out.

Hurricane Iwa Relief 1982 (Hawai’i, US)

Hurricane Iwa was one of if not the worst hurricane Hawai’i had experienced up to that point in terms of damage. It also happened to be the “first hurricane to hit Hawaii in 23 years” according to The New York Times.

It was the final storm of hurricane season, occurring just before Thanksgiving on November 25, 1982 with winds of up to 110 mph. There were widespread power outages across several of the islands and very few structures had flashlights or candles, let alone backup generators.

Ignoring the timeline of their careers in terms of specific years because it doesn't make sense to begin with, I'm picturing Iceman, Cougar, Goose, and Slider at the Academy or Flight School having just seen the news of the hurricane on the TV in a common space. Ice is in total shock because he and many others he grew up with all believed the islands couldn't be touched by hurricanes. There certainly hadn't been any hurricanes while he'd lived there and there hadn’t been any ever longer before then. Hawai'i was the one place that felt like home and Ice was watching his home be destroyed by Hurricane Iwa.

He decided right then and there that he had to do something, and because all of staff liked him he was able to get the day before Thanksgiving off. But his friends knew that Hawai’i was important to him, maybe not aware of just how important but they knew it was the only place he talked about fondly, the only place he’d share memories and stories from with a smile.

He never asked for them to come with him and miss their own Thanksgivings but they had hearts of gold. Nick volunteered first, his caring soul had seemingly infinite amount of kindness and compassion for helping others. Bill and Tom were close, like brothers, so of course Bill was going to go with. And Ron shared a bond with Tom, knowing how important it was to have a stable home.

And so they all flew out to the west coast and caught a ride to the island on a seaplane Tom’s friend typically used to fly around tourists but was now using to bring much needed supplies to those who need it. It now made sense why Tom had experience flying seaplanes. They met up with some of his old friends and helped out where they could, reuniting people who had been separated from their loved ones, delivering supplies, etc.

They couldn’t fix everything in those couple of days, the residents would be clearing debris for months following, but Tom would never forget all that they had done for him that week. And despite the devastating nature of the event, that Thanksgiving would go down as one of Tom’s favorites, surrounded by friends and friends he considered closer than family.

#idk which spelling of the islands is preferred/proper so please let me know if i spelled it wrong!!!! #I write too much sometimes #✨my hawaiian sun kissed boy✨ #iceman flying seaplanes #<- new fav headcanon #just a little thing I wrote #top gun 1986 #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #ron slider kerner #nick goose bradshaw #bill cougar cortell #top gun isn’t accurate #top gun timeline hurts my brain #SOURCE: NY Times articles #headcanon #writing

[skepwith]

More Parts of the Revenge for OFMD Fans

Part of a series: Revenge Master Post.

This post is about stuff in the body of the ship, going more or less from top to bottom. I’m saving the sails and rigging for my next post. If you want to know more basic terms like fore and aft and bow and stern, look for “Parts of the Revenge” in my master post.

Obviously, using these terms is entirely optional, since David Jenkins et al. are free and easy with the ol' historical accuracy. This list is for pedants like me and people who like historical and specialized language. Enjoy!

Main Deck

The low “walls” on the sides of the open decks were called the bulwarks—they were to keep people from falling overboard. On the Revenge, the bulwarks are topped by a rail (railing).

A gap in the bulwark, together with a set of rungs on the hull, was called an entry port. It allowed people to climb aboard from a dinghy.

The top edge of the bulwark was the gunwale, pronounced gunnel. The expression “loaded to the gunwales” is still used to mean very full. The top edges of a dinghy are also called gunwales.

An opening in the deck is called a hatchway. I wrote about hatches a while ago, but what I didn’t realize was that the hatch is the part that covers the hatchway. The wooden grid that lets light and air through is called the grating.

In the bow, the curving rail that goes from the figurehead to the hull is called the head rail, which would’ve been really helpful to know for my toilet post. Oh well.

Stede’s journal could at a stretch be called a logbook (or log). This was a book in which an officer noted details of the ship’s daily progress and journey. Probably a bit less fanciful than Stede’s version.

Weaponry

The Revenge has guns (the word used for cannons) on her main deck and her gun deck. Before a gun was fired, the barrel was cleared with the sponge, then loaded with gunpowder and shot and wads of cloth, all of which was tamped down with the rammer. There were different types of shot, or ammunition; cannonballs were called round shot.

To fire a gun, a lit fuse (usually a slow match) was brought in contact with the vent at the top of the gun—called the touchhole—to ignite the gunpowder. (The wick added in OFMD isn’t accurate. Shocking, I know.) The slow match was usually held with a staff called a linstock, tucked into a notch on the end. You didn’t want to be right next to the cannon when it went off, because there was a non-zero chance it would misfire and explode in your face.

Despite what you see in movies, cannons didn’t produce a lot of fire and smoke; the cannonball did damage by going unstoppably through hulls, masts, and people—often many at a time—like a deadly Energizer bunny.

The gunpowder was kept in kegs in a small room called the powder magazine. (A magazine is an ammunition storage area.) This room was in the hull of the ship, below the water line, to minimize the chances of a stray spark sending the whole ship up in flames. The shot was kept in the shot-locker, a small room in the hold (though this word wasn’t recorded till 1805). As we know, Stede calls this the ball room.

Besides the regular cannons, the Revenge also has swivel guns, small cannons mounted on swivels. These were too small to damage another ship; they were there to fire at boarders and approaching boats. Or, you know, to set off fireworks.

To take an enemy ship, sailors might use a grapnel (or grappling hook). These were attached to a rope and thrown at enemy bulwarks or rigging so the ships could be pulled together for boarding.

The Gun Deck

Everything on a ship had to have a special name: stairs were always called ladders; the floor was called the deck; and a wall or partition inside the hull was called a bulkhead.

Some of you may know that a ship’s kitchen is called a galley. However, this usage wasn’t recorded until 1750; the earlier word was cook-room.

Likewise, the mess is where you eat on a ship, but this sense wasn’t recorded until the late 1800s. In OFMD’s time, mess meant “a group of people who eat together,” like officers of the same rank or sailors on the same watch.

You might know a berth as a shelf or box to sleep on, like Stede’s (and Ed’s) bed, but this usage wasn’t recorded until the 1790s. The earlier meaning, used from at least 1706, is “a room where a particular group (such as officers or midshipmen) eats and sleeps.” So you might call Jim’s room a berth—except that it changes hands, and its name has been firmly established as the Room.

A berth is also a place in a port or harbour where you can moor (park) a vessel, and thirdly, the safety margin around another vessel or object, which gives us the phrase “to give [it] a wide berth.”

Finally, the area where the animals (remember them?) were kept was a small triangular area in the bow called the manger. This seems to be where the Revenge’s en suite is, at least as far as I can figure, but if you want to include the animals for whatever reason, they’d probably live somewhere around there.

Storage

Some of the stuff on board was stored in casks, a.k.a. barrels. These could be any size, but a large cask was also called a butt. A scuttlebutt was a butt full of water attached to the deck for sailors to drink from. Unfortunately, the word wasn’t recorded before 1800, and the “gossip” meaning not till a century after that. But it’s a great word and you should use it anyway.

A keg was a small cask, usually less than ten gallons, used for things like gunpowder or rum.

A sea chest was a wooden box used to store an officer’s personal effects—or to confine a nosy hombrecito.

The Ship’s Bottom

(As it were.)

In several of my posts and diagrams I said the lower decks of the Revenge were the gun deck, the orlop, and the hold. But my friends, I made a grievous error: the Revenge has no orlop. I know!

In season 2, for the first time we get to see what’s below the gun deck. When Frenchie opens the secret passage in the kitchen, he reveals a set of stairs—sorry, a ladder—down to a grim, damp space. The kitchen is on the gun deck, so this is the deck immediately below it, and while on most ships that would’ve been the orlop, in this case it’s the hold.

The hold was the lowest compartment of the ship, used for storage and cargo. It also sometimes held the ballast—heavy stuff (e.g., pig iron, gravel, stones, lead) put there to improve the ship’s balance. The lowest part of the hold itself was called the bilge or bilges—the area where bilgewater collected and had to be pumped out.

Episode 3 shows the water on the floor—sorry, deck—making it pretty clear we’re in the bilges of the hold. On top of that, an Instagram post by crewmember Will Giles (shared on Tumblr by @ourflagmeansbts) mentioned repurposing the “bilge set.”

Which all proves that the Revenge’s hold is immediately below the gun deck, with no orlop in between.

The keel is the structural piece that runs lengthwise along the middle of the hull’s bottom. Keel-hauling was to drag someone along the outside of the keel, underwater, as a punishment—very nasty, often fatal.

Also underwater, at the stern, is the rudder, whose movement makes the ship turn. On a dinghy you steer by moving the tiller, a horizontal bar attached to the rudder post. On a ship like the Revenge, you turn the ship’s wheel, which is attached to the tiller via cables, and that moves the rudder.

That’s all for now! Coming next: sails and rigging, in port, and more sailing lingo.

Sources: Wikipedia, historicnavalfiction [dot] com, Oxford English Dictionary

#ofmd #ofmd meta #mapping the Revenge #nautical history #adopt our crew

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

The longest hour

Sherlock isn’t perceived as a patient man by most people. What most people has failed to observe, is the fact that when the need for patience is there, Sherlock Holmes is more persistent than most. Just think of all the meticulous experiments he performs, how he’s catalogued 243 different types of tobacco ash, the building of his Mind Palace, which, by the way, is still an ongoing project. 

***

After John left to break it up with Mary, every sound seems to be multiplied. He’s tried to play his violin, but he can’t concentrate. Experiments are out of the question. Time is of the essence, and he needs to keep track of it, but the clock on the mantlepiece drives him crazy with its ticking, so he took out the battery. He has no clue where his watch is, and he doesn’t want to tap his phone screen constantly to count the seconds. 

At the top shelf on the bookcase, he finds what he needs. His grandfather’s old hourglass. It’s dusty and matte. Mrs. Hudson hasn’t been able to reach it when she comes dusting. Sherlock uses the sleeve of his dressing gown to polish the glass and when he’s satisfied, he sets it on the coffee table. The grains start to run through the small passage in the middle. Sherlock looks transfixed at it for a moment, before reality kicks in. 

His last conversation with John, replays in his mind for the umpteenth time. When John had assured Sherlock that everything would be fine. That Mary wouldn’t make any trouble when she realised John was moving out and back to Baker Street. 

“Bring your gun,” Sherlock had pleaded. 

“No, sweetheart. There won’t be any need for it. I’ll be fine. It’ll all be fine, Sherlock,” John had said softly and kissed him. 

Sherlock hated to see John go. He knew more about Mary than John. She was dangerous and unpredictable. Sherlock sent a text to Mycroft the second the front door closed behind John. 

John has gone to Mary. Watch him! SH

The response came after twenty long seconds. 

Of course. MH

***

Sherlock sits in his chair, eyes fixed on the hourglass and the sand running steadily, counting the time. His brain constructs all sorts of disastrous outcomes of John’s encounter with his soon-to-be ex-wife. 

Mary, all dressed in black with a gun in her hand, pointed at John’s head. Mary in her wedding dress with a rifle directed at John’s heart. Mary in a pink negligee straddling John’s hips a pillow pressed over John’s face. 

He needs to stop this!

Mycroft has eyes and ears all over the house, and John will be alert and careful. Sherlock needs to be patient and trust John however hard he finds it. 

“One hour, Sherlock. After that, I’m all yours,” John had promised. 

To Sherlock it seems that the grains are running faster now. He knows they aren’t, but the phrase running out of time, has never felt more accurate. 

Sherlock freezes when he realises that he doesn’t know exactly what John had meant with one hour. Did he need one hour inside with Mary, or did he mean one hour from his departure until he was back?

Sherlock rises and paces back and forth in front of the windows, pulling his hair in frustration. 

He HATES not knowing!

Sherlock’s been so lost in his own head, and startles when someone calls his name. 

John!

He turns from the window and in the doorway stands a smiling John. 

“You’ve been worried,” he states fondly and walks towards Sherlock. 

Sherlock only nods before he almost falls into John’s waiting arms. He closes his eyes, revelling in the proximity, inhales the familiar scent and relaxes completely, breathing freely for the first time that day. 

“I love you, John,” Sherlock murmurs into John’s neck.

“Mm. Me too, love. Me too,” John says and tightens his grip around Sherlock. 

When Sherlock opens his eyes some time later, he registers the last grains in the hourglass running trough the passage, leaving the upper half empty. The hour is at an end and John is home. 

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @raina-at @peanitbear @brandiwein1982 @topsyturvy-turtely

#flash fiction friday #flashfiction #sherlock fandom #sherlock #john watson #johnlock #sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock #sand of time

[ofstoriesandstardust]

tale untold (b.r.b.)

a/n: yeah i don’t have a good explanation for this one. not all of this was my evil genius, i do owe some of it to @struggling-with-delia​

summary: Rebel reflects. 

main masterlist | top gun: maverick masterlist | same mistakes-verse

warnings: pregnancy scare, fears of an unwanted pregnancy, birth control, missed periods, mentions of an abortion, mentions of sex, at no time is she ever pregnant, swearing, this one isn’t going to be everyone’s cup of tea

word count: 2.1k

You knew better than to be as careless as you had been. 

You’d long since known, ever since you decided you didn’t want kids, that you had to be careful when it came to seeking pleasure through sex. It was something you didn’t really enjoy anyways, meaningless hook-ups not boding well with you, and you’d decided a while ago to get off the pill, it creating problems for your body that were much easier solved by just getting off of it completely. 

Still, when you’d gotten together with Bradley, you knew it was important you were smart about this. You nor Bradley were in any position to be having kids right now.

And you had tried to be smart, but getting re-prescribed the pill had been more of a process than you originally anticipated, the base doctor making you go in circles before he would approve it. 

All it took was Bradley’s inability to keep his hands to himself one night and a heated make out session for you to risk it. 

What were the odds, right?

The odd’s it seemed, were pretty good. 

Not in your favor, one might say. 

I think I might be pregnant. 

The words swim on the screen through unshed tears as Bradley stands next to you. 

“It’s going to be okay, honey. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, okay?” He says, offering you his hand. You just look at him, worrying your bottom lip underneath your teeth. 

“Rebel?” The sound of your best friend’s voice echoes through the Bradshaw home. 

“In the bathroom.” Rooster calls, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“You’re a dead man, Bradshaw.” 

You both raise your heads to see Hangman, who’s smirking at Bradley like this is the funniest thing he’s heard all week. 

To him, it probably is. 

A girl with mommy issues he’s done nothing but bicker with since the day he met her getting knocked up by a guy she had only recently reconciled with after almost two decades is probably the highlight of his week. 

If he could, he’d probably sit back with a bowl of popcorn and watch the free entertainment. 

“What are you doing here, Bagman?” Rooster asks, a hint of irritation in his tone. 

“He was with me when Rebel texted me.” Coyote says, pushing the blonde out of the door frame. “Have you taken a pregnancy test yet?” 

You shake your head. 

“Then why are you freaking?” Hangman snorts, earning him a pointed glare from your best friend. 

The front door opens again, followed by the shouting of Phoenix’s voice. She appears in the doorway with Bob a few minutes later, a CVS bag in hand. 

“Okay, admittedly I wasn’t sure which ones were considered the most accurate so I bought you three different brands, just to be sure.” She glances up from where she’s rifling through the bag. “Bagman, why are you here?” 

“My presence was specifically requested.”

“No the fuck it was not.” Bradley says through gritted teeth. 

Coyote rolls his eyes. “He was with me when I got her text.” 

You groan, head falling as you reach up to rub your temples. 

“Rebel, chill. If you don’t want it, just get an abortion.” Hangman says nonchalantly, and even though you aren’t looking at him, you can practically see the shrug of his shoulders. 

“Have you... have you guys talked about anything like that?” Bob asks cautiously. 

“Obviously not, Bobby.” Hangman responds. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be in this predicament.” 

“But if you had a kid, oh, I could be an uncle!” Coyote exclaims, prompting another groan as your fingers press harder into your temple. 

“Yeah, but her career would essentially be over. A kid would change everything.” 

Phoenix’s words sit heavy on you, knowing how many female pilots have left on maternity leave and been pushed out. It’s a man’s world you were living in and you had known it since you were young. 

“What about my career?” Rooster exclaims. 

“You’re a man.” She deadpans. 

“Okay!” You nearly shout, voice hoarse and strained. “None of you are helping so please for the love of Christ can you get out so I can pee on the fucking stick?”

Everyone stares at you for a minute before Bob spurs into action, shooing everyone out of the bathroom before leaving with a quiet, “I hope you get the result you want.” 

You take a shaky sigh before running your hands through your hair. You take another minute, the anxiety swimming in your stomach before you stand up, grabbing one of the tests. 

After taking all three of the tests and washing your hands, you set a timer on your phone. You resume your seat on the edge of the bathtub, hands clasped in front of you as you grow more anxious by the minute. 

If you were pregnant, you were not having this kid. 

The thought that there could be an unborn fetus growing inside of you right now makes you nauseous as you try to remember to breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. 

You weren't meant to be a mother, weren’t cut out for it. You had known for years now that you would never have kids of your own. 

As crass as Hangman had been, you probably would get an abortion if that test was positive. 

The thought of giving birth, of the risks and complications, of having to take the time off of work to bring this baby to term, the weight gain and the hormones, the contractions and cravings, even if you gave it up for adoption, sounded like it’d be worse than a fork in the eye. Worse than several forks in the eye. 

And there was the added layer of not knowing what Bradley would do. Would he be angry with you for not wanting to keep it? Would he leave? 

Your Dad would probably be angry with you for being so reckless and careless about this, for making the same mistakes he had made that had brought you into this world. 

It was all too much, too overwhelming. 

You didn’t even have your own mother to turn to and lean on for support. 

The thought of your mother makes your chest feel tight as you suddenly wonder if this is how she had felt when she took the test. If this is how she had felt her whole pregnancy. If this suffocating, drowning feeling at the thought of being a mother had been what she felt through her whole pregnancy, of the first two years of your life, you think, for the first time in your life, you might finally understand why she left. 

The timer rings out, cutting off your train of thought. You take a shaky breath, standing from the bathtub as you steady yourself to look at the tests. 

Negative

Every single one of them were negative. You let out a choked laugh, relief bringing you to you knees as you slowly sink down to the cool tile of the bathroom floor. 

You would probably still have to go to the doctor, just to be certain, but this was a good sign. A good start. 

Tears rolls down your cheeks before you can stop them, the relief too much to bear. 

You sit there for a while more before there’s a soft knock on the door, almost unsure. “Honey?” He calls. “I’m going to come in, if that’s okay.” 

The bathroom door opens slowly, Bradley peeking his head in. He softens at the sight of you on the floor, tear stains on your cheeks as he glances at the test. 

“Upset?” 

You shake your head, wiping some of the tears away. “Relieved.” 

He nods, crouching down to sit next to you before shifting you to pull you into his lap. Your head rests on his shoulder as his arms wrap around your waist. 

“You’re probably just stressed honey. The last few months have been hard on everyone, but especially you. And you haven’t been eating properly and taking care of yourself like you should.” He says with a soft squeeze of your hip. “Those two combined probably explain the missed period and the nausea.” 

You shrug, knowing he’s probably right. 

“Bradley, I don’t want kids.” 

“Okay.” 

You lift your head to look him in the eyes. “No, I mean I don't want kids ever.” 

Yet again, there is that patient and simple “Okay.” 

It’s infuriating. 

Before you can create a snarky comment about just what he's throwing away by being with you, he takes your chin in his hand. “Honey, I’m never going to force you to do something you don’t want to. If that test was positive and you wanted that kid, I’d be all for us keeping it. If you wanted to get an abortion, I’d support that too. As far as kids go, I’m entirely neutral. What’s more important to me is your happiness and how I can support you best so that we stay together.”

“Sure, you say that now, but in a couple years down the road, you’re going to feel differently.” 

“No.” He says firmly. “No, I won’t. I want to be with you. I love you. And I’d love our kid if we had one together but I would love a life without them just as much. We have spent too many years apart for me to sacrifice it all now that I have it.” 

“You’re going to end up resenting me for this.” You mutter, earning a shake of his head. 

“Absolutely not. We can get a dog or something if it’s so important to you. But the not having kids doesn’t change my mind about you. Plus, you forget I’ve known you since you were in diapers. You’ve never really wanted children. I knew what I was getting into.” 

You sigh as he lets your chin go, leaning over to press a soft kiss to your lips. He shifts some of your hair to press a soft kiss to the shell of your ear. 

“You’re just going to have to trust me.” 

-

Bradley’s chest vibrates agains your back as he laughs at the Scooby-Doo cartoon on screen. Buddy’s curled up at your feet, a heavy ring on your finger holding the weight of the promise of forever. 

This, what you have with Bradley, is forever. He’s been making that promise to you since the day the two of you got together. 

Still, the memory is there. 

It carries a heavy weight of its own, the fear that had lingered. 

The two of you hadn’t had any more scares since that one, you’d made sure of it. But the fear of what you were denying Bradley had stayed. It was a fear the two of you had had raw, honest conversations about and you’d had to learnt to trust him when he said that he felt like he wasn’t missing out by being with you, that he was perfectly content not having kids of his own. 

“Do you remember when we had that pregnancy scare?” 

Bradley huffs out a laugh, his chest vibrating again.

“Of course I do, Coyote was practically building a nursery in his mind before you ever even took a test.”

It’s quiet for a moment as you piece the words together. 

“I’ll never forgive my Mom.” You whisper. Bradley shifts against your back, propping himself up. Your eyes are still trained on the young crew, tracking down the masked man behind the ghost. 

“But for one moment, just one, I understood her.” 

You sit up before Bradley has a chance to even process the words, earning a raise of Buddy’s head. You smile down at the dog. “C’mon Buddy, it’s time for bed.” 

You walk up the stairs with the dog, getting ready for to turn in for the night as Bradley follows you. It’s silent, Bradley not saying anything as the two of you get ready for bed. Even after the two of you have turned off the lights and climbed up under the covers, Bradley doesn’t say anything. He just pulls you close, your dog wedged between the two of you at your feet. 

He runs his fingers through your hair as you hear the AC kick in, reminding you of the summer heat existing outside these walls. 

Only after minutes more with just the hum of the air conditioning unit and the steady breathing of your golden retriever, does Bradley speak. 

“I love you sweetheart.” He whispers, shifting slightly to press a kiss to your collarbone. You smile, even though he can’t see it. 

There’s that promise again, the promise to always love you, to never leave. 

“I know.” You respond quietly. “I love you too.” 

And that’s your promise to him, that you’ll accept his love and return it all the same. 

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fics #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fics #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #same mistakes

[nightghoul381]

No Room to Breathe~ Ellis Twilight

Chapter 1

This a fan translation so it is definitely not 100% accurate. I do not own anything related to Ikemen Villains. Support Cybird by buying their amazing stories!

No Warnings for this part, but it does become NSFW in later parts, so MDNI

Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

Victor: “Well then, here’s the question.”

Victor: “The third glass from the top and furthest left in the common room. What happens if you touch it?”

Kate / Ellis: “A hidden armory appears.”

Victor: “Yes, very good answer.”

(Waaaaah…!)

The moment he touched the glass, a shelf appeared and the common room transformed into an armory.

On principle, only the members of Crown and I were allowed to use the weapons Victor possessed.

Victor: “It’s so earnest and sweet of you to ask to borrow a weapon for your next mission, it almost brings tears to my eyes.”

Ellis: “Can I take whatever I want?”

Victor: “Of course you can! What do you want? Oh, this is a new tranquilizer gun. Once it puts you to sleep, you won’t wake up for 24 hours!”

Victor: “It can be used on either lions or people. And this one—”

Ellis: “These handcuffs… I’ve never seen ones like this before.”

Kate: “Really? How do they work?”

Ellis: “Kate, can I see your hand… I wonder if this is it.”

Kate: “Oh, I see. That’s how you use them.

Victor: “So, this one is…what!? Wait, what!?”

Victor: “What’s that in your hands, no way…”

Ellis: “…?”

Victor yelled as he looked at the handcuffs connecting one of my hands and one of Ellis’s hands.

Victor: “These are handcuffs that never come off after you put them on-----Oh!”

--dining room

(Th-This is one hell of a situation.)

Liam heard the commotion and pulled us into the dining room saying “Al is a master lock-picker”

Alfons: “You’re fools to fall for handcuffs that can never come off again.”

Kate: “Hey, regardless of what we’re stupid enough to do, just take it off for now. Please.”

As the rest of Crown looked on, Alfons messed around with the handcuffs, looking up after 5 seconds.

Alfons: “This is impossible.”

Kate: “Huh? Please, try a little harder.”

Alfons: “I’m a genius at giving up. Isn’t it foolish to waste effort on unnecessary things.”

Alfons: “I surrender, I surrender.”

(Th-that’s…)

(Huh? It seems like Victor and I are the only ones who have been panicking for a while now.)

Ellis: “…Is it really so bad if it stays this way?”

Kate: “Huh?”

Ellis: “With anyone else, it would be a bit of a problem, but…”

Ellis: “If it’s with you, I don’t mind staying connected.”

I blinked at the unexpectedly sweet words being thrown at me.

Ellis: “You feel the same with me… right?”

Kate: “It’s…. The, uh, I don’t like…. I don’t.”

Ellis: “I see. Fufu, good.”

Victor: *sobbing* “……Oh……OH…..Oh….”

Victor: “This is a grave situation. I can’t believe that my mismanagement has deprived two people of their freedom!”

Liam: “…Victor, that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

Victor: “So, I’ve decided to call a locksmith I know.”

Victor: “He lives far away, so I’ll be home late. William,”

William: “—ah, I understand. I’ll take care of the rest.”

Victor: “My sweet Kate, Ellis. Wait for me, okay?”

(…Gone like the wind.)

William, who had been watching the situation while drinking his tea, smiled softly.

William: “Kate, Ellis. Crown duties will be relegated until it is removed.”

William: “Think of it as a vacation and spend it as you like.”

Liam: “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it for you instead.”

Kate: “Thank you. Ah, but Ellis, you have work for Jude’s company, right?”

Kate: “You’ll need to tell Jude that you’re taking the day off.”

(It’s dangerous to have business negotiations or collect money while connected.)

Ellis: “Yeah. But, do you think he’ll readily say I can take a break?”

Kate: “Fufu, no way. Not that devil.”

--castle grounds

We went to see Jude who was doing some research in the library…

--library

Jude: “Tch, that doesn’t matter, just do the work.”

(The devil!)

Ellis: “I knew Jude would say that.”

Ellis: “The way you’re talking…Is there something you want us to do?”

Jude: “Do you remember the man who asked to borrow money for investing from me three months ago?”

Ellis: “Ah…that extremely friendly grey-haired man?”

Jude: “Yeah. He stopped his repayments without asking.”

Kate: “Is there some reason why don’t just ignore it?”

Jude: “Are you seriously asking that?”

(Uh….)

Jude: “The circumstances and shit were premeditated. He doesn’t pay people back, just shows up at balls around here and there and has a grand old time.”

Jude: “How dare he break his word, eh?”

After spitting it out, Jude threw something in front of me and Ellis.

Kate: “An invitation to a ball? Could it be…”

Jude: “He’ll be there tonight. Go undercover and collect the money he stole.”

Ellis: “That means Kate is a young lady and I am her servant.”

Kate: “No, that would be suspicious. We’re still connected aren’t we?”

Jude: “They’ll just think overprotective parents put a collar on their daughter.”

Jude: “Or they’ll think yer someone with a taste for that sort of thing.”

(Ngh, That’s the problem! Ah, that’s right!)

Kate: “Well, I also don’t have a high-class dress that a young lady would wear.”

If I told Victor, he’d probably have one ready in a second, but I’ll keep that a secret for now.

Jude: “Haah… yer a very ill-prepared princess.”

Jude, looking really bothered, took something out and ran his pen over it.

Jude: “Hm, If ya got this it’ll be fine.”

Kate: “Uh, a check…and for this much!?”

Kate: “I can’t accept this!”

Jude: “No one said anything about doing it for free. It’s an advance on today’s work.”

Jude: “If it doesn’t work out, you’ll have to pay it back with double the interest. Do yer best.”

Kate: “Eh, h-hey!”

--Crown Castle Hall

(…ugh, I couldn’t refuse.)

Ellis: “Kate, are you okay?”

Kate: “I’m alright. Now that I’ve received the money, I want to do my job properly.”

Kate: “Let’s do our best, Ellis.”

Ellis: “…Fufu.”

Kate: “…?”

Ellis: “I, that part of you… I like it.”

Ellis: “…Maybe it’s a good thing it turned out like this.”

Kate: “…good?”

Ellis: “Yeah. This way, I can be with you all the time.”

When I see the sweet smile on his face, I feel my heart flutter.

(Before, I couldn’t say it clearly)

Kate: “Me too, I’m glad you were the one who was connected to me.”

Ellis: “I see, I’m happy… So, shall we go buy a dress?”

Kate: “Yes, Ellis!”

--Mansion entrance

After I bought a formal evening dress at Harrods,

We stepped into the mansion where the ball was being held.

(Wow, a big mansion… and lots of people.)

While I was stunned by the glittering lights, Ellis held my hand.

Ellis: “Let’s hold hands. It would be difficult if we got separated.”

Kate: “Fufu, we can’t exactly be separated when I’m handcuffed to you.”

Ellis: “I didn’t say it right. So…”

Ellis: “Can I hold your hand, because I want to hold your hand?”

Kate: “……yes.”

(I wonder if he noticed my anxiety… Ellis is as kind as ever.)

When I think about that, I suddenly felt a sense of discomfort.

(Huh? Are we being watched?)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Premium End | Epilogue

#ikevil #ikemen villains translation #ikevil translation #ellis twilight #ikevil ellis #ikevil ellis twilight #ikemen villains ellis #ikemen villains ellis twilight #ikemen villains

[1-800marvelqueen]

The Door At The End Of The Hall

Marc Spector x fem!reader, Steven Grant x fem!reader

Part Two

WC : 1.7K

SW : No usage of "Y/N," physical appearance and details are left completely ambiguous and are up to interpretation. Mention of guns, violence, fighting, death, blood, etc.

If there's any more warnings to be added let me know!

This is a re-post, all of my old accounts were deleted.

No no no. 

He couldn’t go back there, he couldn’t relive that moment. He couldn’t sit there and watch as you-

But Steven was already running towards you. Towards the memory of you.

Marc had already gone back through his childhood, through the death of his brother, through his mothers abuse, through his death and rebirth as Khonshu’s avatar. Wasn’t it enough? Wasn’t all that he’d shown Steven enough to balance the scales? Why would fate be as cruel as to force him to relive this moment again?

He could hear you yelling in the distance, the very sound of your voice hurts his chest, it rings in his head. He really doesn’t need to follow Steven into the temple, he remembers every single detail of this moment, this memory.

That’s all you were now. A memory.

He remembers it down to the smallest sounds and smells, down to the specks of dust and sand in the air. But this isn’t something Steven should witness on his own. As much as Marc doesn’t want to enter, Steven needs him. 

It was a mission gone wrong. Khonshu had ordered him to go against some pretty dangerous people, a cult of sorts. He knew it was extremely dangerous, that there was a chance Khonshu’s ability to heal wouldn’t save him. That’s why he hadn’t told you about it. 

You were an avatar. You served Sekhmet; the destroyer of the enemies of the Sun God Ra, the Egyptian goddess of war, plague, and chaos. Marc knows that you were the perfect fit to be her Avatar, your embodiment of all that Sekhmet stood for was so accurate, so precise, that if anyone had ever told him you were the Goddess herself disguised as a human, he wouldn’t second-guess it. 

But just like your Goddess, you were hot-headed and stubborn. Once an idea had gotten into your head, it was hard to get it out of there. He hadn’t told you about the mission, he wanted you safe and far-far away from any danger he may partake in, he always did. But Khonshu, being the sneaky bird bastard he is, told Sekhmet. And therefore Sekhmet sent you to aid him. 

How could you ever turn down the chance to protect your loved one?

He enters the cave to the sound of fire whooshing, Marc ducks just in time as a man engulfed in flames stumbles past him, trying desperately to put himself out. If he wasn’t so emotionally drained, he could almost laugh at the sight. When you had first met him, you’d told him you had a fiery personality. He thought you were just saying it in the cheesy way that everyone else did. 

But then you had proved him wrong by lighting the sleeve of his shirt on fire without so much as lifting a finger. 

He thinks he had fallen in love with you at that very moment. 

His attention is pulled to the scene in front of him. He’s on top of some dangerous scaffolding, the planks under his feet looking like they could collapse at any moment. You’re down below, fighting bravely. He can’t make out the features of your face with the mask of your avatar garb covering it. But Marc doesn’t need to see your face to remember what it looked like. He’d spent so many nights laying with you, nights that were fruitless when it came to sleep, he’d trace the features of your visage while you slept. Memorising every scar, blemish, the way your nose would crinkle as he would brush a sensitive spot, the flutter of your eyes under your lids as you entered the deepest part of your sleep, while he remained awake. 

He looks at you as you fight, the spear of Sekhmet is in your hand as you battle it out with a man who wields a large knife. Steven watches on a few feet in front of him, confusion written all over his face.

“Marc, who is she?” hand lightly gesturing towards you as he casts a few glances over his shoulder, not wanting to take his eyes off of whatever was going on. When he doesn’t get a reply Steven turns to look at him, he grows concerned at the fact that Marc’s attention isn’t on him, nor is it even on you, it’s on the man who walks the scaffolding. Someone Marc had tossed to the side to deal with another in front of him. He wonders, if he hadn’t thrown the man to the side, if he’d just taken him out immediately, would you still be here? 

The man bends down to grab the gun Marc had wrenched out of the hand of the man he was currently fighting, the one he had tossed over his shoulder. 

Big mistake.

Steven speaks once more when he sees the man bend down to pick up the gun, aiming it towards Marc. “Marc what is going on,” eyes wide as he turns towards the shell-shocked man, who now had tears welling in his eyes. He places his hands on Marc's shoulders, giving him a few rough shakes. “Marc, answer me! What is going on?” 

At the sound of an exclamation of pain he turns back, thinking it was Marc that had just been shot. But no, Steven watches as the man above turns his aim from Marc to you as you spear through one of his companions. He shouts out while Marc drops to his knees next to him. The man pulls the trigger and the bullet goes flying through the air. It pierces you in your thigh, you stumble. He fires again, it lodges in your stomach. He shoots a third time and Steven watches as it goes straight through the right side of your chest. 

The man goes to shoot for a fourth time but is stopped by Marc. He’s stabbed and thrown off the scaffolding. Marc quickly dispatches the rest of the people in the room. 

He rushes to your side.

Steven can hear the utterances, the string of “No” that is repeated over and over again by Marc as he scoops your upper-half into his arms, cradling your torso against his. He whispers your name, mixing it into the plethora of ‘no’s’. Steven briefly thinks that it’s one of the prettiest names he’s ever heard. He watches as Marc frantically begins pressing his hands into your wounds, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. 

The mask covering your face slips away and Steven can’t help but think you’re one of the prettiest people he’s ever laid his eyes on. He watches as the hand that was pressed against your stomach comes up to smooth your hair away, blood smearing on your forehead with the motion. 

Steven gets the answer to his previous question of who you are when Marc's hand slowly caresses down your face to hold at the bottom of your jaw, and a gentle kiss is placed upon you, between your brows. 

“No,” Steven whispers. Voice wavering as the realisation hits him like a ton of bricks. Watching the way that past-Marc is desperately trying to hold you together with his hands, to heal you with his touch, and the way present-Marc crumbles next to him, the tears that spill down his face, his hands clenching at his sides, his shoulders shaking with the attempt to hold in his sobs. 

This was some of the most emotion he’d ever seen in Marc. 

He watches as you place your hand overtop the one that presses into your chest, your hand trying hard to envelop Marcs’, squeezing with all the strength that’s left in your body. 

Steven thinks he can almost feel the pressure of your hold on his own hand. 

Marc knows he himself definitely feels it. 

“Marc,” kneeling down next to his broken counterpart, “You loved her didn’t you?” Steven receives no words, only a curt nod, he watches as Marc looks away, his eyes clenched shut tightly. “I’m so sorry Marc, I-I would’ve never brought us here if…” 

Steven looks back to see your hand lift to gently touch against Marcs’ cheek, a soft look in your eyes as you attempt to embrace him one last time, face nuzzling into his chest, a gentle kiss placed where his heart would be. 

“Steven I don’t want to be here anymore.” 

Marcs’ voice is quiet, he sounds so different than he normally does. Gone is the confident, self-assured man, the one who never lets anything ever bother him. The man who’s hunched over next to Steven is hollow, and it’s at this point Stevens’ understanding of why he was created in the first place is truly solidified in his mind.  

He can’t find it in himself to argue with Marc, uttering a quiet ‘Lets go’. Placing an arm around Marc's backside, Steven hoists him up, carrying him back towards the door. He casts a glance over his shoulder just in time to see your head flop backwards, neck no longer supporting its weight as you finally give in, all signs of life gone. 

He can hear Marc pleading, to whomever he can think of first. Sekhmet, Khonshu, anybody.  He’s pleading for you to come back, to open your eyes, to not leave him.

 The cries and begs slowly get louder and louder. Steven can feel tears in his eyes, a lump forming in his throat. It’s only when Steven and Marc reach the plain white door does he hear a heartbreaking, gut-wrenching scream echo from the mouth of the cave. 

The guilt overwhelms Steven, curse him and his curious mind. He regrets coming in here, dragging Marc after him no matter how much he begged to not enter the room. The tears fall as they reach the stark white hallway, and it’s at this point Steven wished he had never gone in. That he had never even thought about going near the door at the end of the hall. 

~

Originally posted June 2nd, 2022.

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #moon knight x reader #moon knight #mywriting #1-800marvelqueen

[chvoswxtch]

I finally finished echo so if you’d like to listen to me incoherently ramble about it and my baby maya pls join me below ✨

first off the fact that there were only 5 episodes is fucking CRIMINAL

secondly alaqua cox is quite literally one of the most beautiful human beings I have ever seen

and thirdly I would die for biscuits and billy jack

side note- matt showing up just to be a dick and show off and then dip is so on brand but this isn’t his show and it isn’t about him so that’s the last i’ll talk about him

let’s get into it

not even two minutes into the first episode I was leaking from my eyes, and that happened several times throughout the entire series

the tone of this series reminded me so much of the netflix mcu and after watching echo, I have a lot more hope for future marvel projects that are darker and more gritty

the way this show dealt with themes of grief and generational trauma while also balancing sequences of violence and sprinkles of comedic relief was incredible. nothing felt cheesy or forced, the pacing was a little fast but again we were only given 5 episodes and echo definitely deserved more

the entire quileute tribe being cast is fucking ICONIC

the amount of work that went into making sure the indigenous representation was accurate and presented in a respectful way was very impressive. my father’s side of the family is native american and live in oklahoma and it was just really neat to see something so close to home portrayed in marvel without being over the top or exaggerated

I forgot how much I loved vincent’s version of fisk and getting to see him in the iconic white suit was incredible. i’m also super stoked to see the mayor fisk storyline and how that affects maya

I think they should’ve spent longer exploring how her ancestors echo through her and the healing abilities/powers that seems to grant her. it’s a lot different from her “power” in the comics and I honestly think it’s a more interesting concept and I would love to see them explore it further in the future

I loved that they weren’t lazy with the sign language and that the cast and crew all learned to communicate with alaqua

I loved that they also spoke in choctaw, and started the series with the creation of the tribe to set the stage for the rest of the series

the fact that alaqua herself is deaf and an amputee just proves that she was meant to play maya and she did a fucking PHENOMENAL job

I think they handled her disability so respectfully and perfectly. it wasn’t a hinderance or something that was heavily pointed out, it was literally just a part of who she was and that’s it

she’s so fucking smart and resourceful like she straight up made a gun out of a roller skate???

playing dragula at the skating rink was so real she’s just like me

the way they laced sound in and out of certain scenes to give us maya’s pov of what she experiences was such a neat thing to do

the little easter eggs confirming that the netflix shows are canon??? (fisk’s hammer, the roxxon gas station, etc)

y’all know how I feel about feral brunettes (especially ones in leather jackets)

“kingpin had his run. it’s time for a queen.” FUCKING ICONIC

bottom line is this show was fucking amazing and if you haven’t watched it yet, please do yourself a favor and check it out, especially if you enjoyed any of the netflix marvel shows. you will not be disappointed

i’m humbly appointing myself president of the maya lopez fan club and you’re all welcome to join we’re getting matching leather jackets

I can’t rave enough about echo or alaqua cox (I mean I could) but if you’ve made it this far thx for coming to my ted talk 🖤✨

#maya lopez the woman that you are #i’m obsessed with her #5 episodes is criminal and i’m not gonna stop complaining about that #I don’t want any more time travel or multiverse bullshit #give me more MAYA #and biscuits and billy jack thx #echo #maya lopez #alaqua cox #marvel #court rambles #court pls shut the fuck up

[autisticbokutoenthusiast]

playboyy ep 12 stray thoughts

- “damn i hate myself” real

- first soong being cute 🥹🥹

- you know shits about to get emotional when the soundtrack switches to yoiyami

- “you called me a friend when you weren’t pretending to be nant” AND WHAT IF I LOSE MY MIND

- zouey and nont besties agenda

- OH GOD ZOUEY BACKSTORY wait noooooo

- i guess the evidence is staying hidden then like boy are they in their failvestigator era oh nvm they found something (that they already knew but still that’s more than they usually get

- promnont !!!

- hold on they finally showing zoueyteena. they can never just give a quick handy either always gotta be invoking the religious implications of a renaissance painting… good for them (yes i include the popcorn scene in this) also top zouey truthers this one was for you!!!

- what are you hiding under that tarp zouey 🤨🤨 i think it’s of nant

- hold on teena’s necklace lmao. is the t for troy no it’s for *too sleepy to finish the bit*

- NO GET A JOB!! STAY AWAY FROM HER!!!

- finna beat the shit out of jason lee give me 10 seconds i could take him out

- what does he mean by keep an eye on…

- oop that scarf zouey in his horse girl era

- THEY DOING WHAT TO WHO?!?!?

- she is not scared of them at all like two absolute kitty cats of toruturers MEKEKFKKRKRJFJFJF NOT THE DUSTERS I CANT

- the drop of sweat deserves an award for perfect timing and i’m being so serious about this

- AHH PROMNONT i can’t handle them being affectionate like it makes me lose my oh not the fuckass product placemntsjdjjdjdjrjrjjejdjr you know what i got me some promnont crumbs i’ll take it

- so i’m gonna see this scene expanded in fic later right 👀 i’ll give a million kisses to anyone who decides to do it

- they can never argue using simple sentences it’s always “i feel bad that you feel bad that i felt bad” and “im mad that you got mad that i got mad” and “if you have a problem that we have a problem than the problem is you’re invalidating my feelings” “i didn’t think you would think about me thinking” like besties….

- see but zouey was kinda right… why is he being made the bad guy, first and captain kinda pissin me off

- girl YOU got him expelled. captain needs to be fr

- NONT WITH THE BIG PANT CROPPED SHORT COMBO THATS MY MAN

- these college athletes are plain evil

- puen lowkey the only one in this show consistently talking sense. i hope he gets his licks back on these bum bitches cause i’ve had it with them

- the coloring the coloring the coloring the coloring the coloring the projection the projection the projection

- THE. HESS BOARD BEING PROJECTED PLAYBOYY SURREALISM FOR THE WON ONCE AGAIN

- captain talking big game for someone who took sneaky clips. hoping this shows growth on his part cause deep down im still rooting for him

- captain sweaty blow up the whole establishment i support you

- NO CAPTAIN THATS NOT WHAT I TOLD YOU TO DO THATS VERY MUCH MOT WHAT I JUST SAID YOU LITTLE BASTARD

- ooo the outro track finally making sense!! kejrjejdnjdj

- i love the when soong carries first

- oh more food, user @jeffsatyr i’m so sorry

- firstsoong enthusiasts we are so back oh there goes firsts fuckass dad

- captain needs to stop picking fights AND CAPTAINS A YANKEES fan i can’t defend him anymore

- puen fight back!!! he was going easy on captain cause he’s a nice little boy oh shit now aobs gonna kill captain isn’t he…

- captainkeenpuen enthusiasts don’t lose hope!!! we can still win!!

- aobpuen enthusiasts were so back

- THE COLORING THE COLORING THE COLORING

- the characters and 'accurately assessing the media their in' saga continues

- porsche looks like such a baby here. jump listen to porsche pls do not see him again

- cry by johannes bornlof is playing they fr pulling out the nuthphop ballads for the other couples today

- puen is my boy and i will lay down my life for him actually

- NONT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT IM GONNA WALHAT WHAT WYHAHW ok sorry yall him with the gun did sumn to me

- nont once again will not be caught slacking holding someone at gun point be damned AND ITS CAPTAIN WITB THE STEAL POLL?!?!?!?

- nont… i need to know how he picks outfits like did he want the color to match the gun????

- nont chuckling in the corner... i fear he’s lost it

- playboyy once again with the themes of tech and privacy

- captain is lucky puen is lowkey a pacifist

- nont and captain: torturing aob and puen for info about the murder, zoueyteena: painting time !!

- oh my god yall im getting chills like fr speechless i am so…

NUTH MY BABY BOY

- nuth coming through with his amateur directorial visions let’s gooooo

- nont being like “please do a little bit of torture, just for me, please 🥺”

- he playing the funeral violin oh it’s not ending well oh god

- jason lee you will crumble i am so serious about this count your mother fucking days

- nuth scurrying away in the back… also nont where is your marksmanship now

- puen keeps suffering tremendously and he doesn’t deserve a single second of it. free my boy he fr has never done anything wrong

- i think i was right and nuths screenplay is autobiographical

- THEYRE PLAYING AMBIVRLANT THOGUHTS AGAIN NUTHPHOP PIANO BALLAD ENTHUSAISTS WE STAY WELL FED

- nuthphop my beloveds i love them so fucking much you don’t get it no wait why he deleting them oh shit ! phop play shitty games win shitty prizes dawg

- welp

yall this might be one of the strongest eps in a hot minute i loved this one had me at the edge of my seat the whole time

#playboyy the series #playboyy spoilers

[truedairship]

*makes my own camp in your askbox*

Helen/Nikola headcanons and since you said you went on a dive through Ranna, any Ranna headcanons as well, please. 😁 (If you have nothing for Ranna, pick any character you want!)

*scrambles to get some pillows and the biggest teacups I can find*

Helen/Nikola:

I talked a little bit about Nikola spending part of his 60 years in hiding with time!Helen here. That is a big, complicated one though, and putting my thoughts into words is difficult at the best of times😂 (as proven below). But ask and ye shall receive:

General Teslen ones though…

Okay so it is canon that Helen enjoys Nikola causing trouble (“well that’s what makes him so interesting”, Trail of Blood). I think that she (both in the past and post S4) sometimes is aware of what he’s doing/that he’s doing something stupid, but waits until it actually crosses her path before interfering because she enjoys disrupting his plans at the best (worst) moment.

They both know that they’re not meant to have a “normal” relationship. Especially with how restless Nikola is. And Helen isn’t exactly the most domestic person either. Therefore, they won’t even try (as of yet at least) because they don’t want to ruin the relationship they have, attempted murder among friends included.

They have slept with each other on several occasions in the past.

IF they were to marry post S4/if they talk about it, I like to think that Nikola would be more willing to take her last name, or they’d use double ones.

They have never been Will they, Won’t they? but rather when will they and when won’t they. Because⬇️

They enjoy racking up the tension between them as high as they can as a game, only see how far they can go before actually colliding. (and frankly, some friendships are simply more fun with tangible sexual tension)

Although they’ve never actually discussed them, they are fully aware of each other’s limits. Nikola knows how much he can flirt with/annoy Helen without crossing the line, and immediately backs off if he comes too close (as proven when they’re in her bedroom in Animus). Likewise, Helen knows how to and how harshly she can rebuff him without him actually being hurt. Even if it doesn’t make sense to anyone else, they know where the lines are drawn. (Muddy explanation, sorry!)

On that note, I don’t think Nikola actually considered Cabal stronghold = Ashley might have been there in Trail of Blood. The face he makes when Helen mentions her feels very much like oh shoot I screwed up big time.

Continuing, Nikola’s over the top innuendo and flirting is less him actually wanting to get into her pants (obviously he wants to, but he knows that’s not really how to get there, see point three), and more just to annoy her and make her squirm (similar to how I enjoy horrifying my city-raised friends with weird horse-/general animal facts). Consensual bothering I suppose? He often does it just to make her smile, even if it’s from exasperation.

On that note, the scene with Abby’s zipper or whatever in her first(?) episode makes me see red because whyyy. That is never fun. (I would’ve loved it if it had it been Helen because they know each other and it would’ve been such a them thing but here it’s just- ugh. No.)

This is getting long but since you did ask

*realises worriedly that I should probably rewatch some sanctuary because wait what is actually canon and what is just my mad rambles when it comes to Ranna*

Ranna:

Helen overpowering and grabbing the gun-thing from Fallon followed by her accurately deducting what’s actually going on was the moment Ranna went all 🤩 and joined the Worship Helen Magnus club

In order to keep her position and everything, Ranna is very much cool, collected, detached, yada yada. Seeing Helen all fiery and very much openly caring for her crew (because that’s how she acted in Pax Romana) inspired her a lot and was part of the reason as to why she sent the coded message in Metamorphosis. (Connected to your point about her being 40-ish because I think meeting Helen made her rethink a lot of stuff)

Gregory has told Ranna about Helen, but what I like is that aside from the small meeting in S1, he hasn’t met Helen since what? 1909? Victorian era single father, combined with the general parents thinking their children are innocent thing… I mean Helen has changed quite a bit since then. Back to point one. Ranna realises Gregory’s stories don’t even begin to cover just what a powerhouse Helen is.

#this is probably not very comprehensible but oh well #fair warning. this was all written in one go and is not proofread #misuse of sentence structure is a character trait at this point #thank you for the ask! #sanctuary

[thatsrightice]

I’VE GOT A FIRE AND ITS PISSING ME OFF!!!

But everytime I try to make progress on my fic, a new inaccuracy decides to pop up onto my radar. And I’m at a standstill until I fix it like I can’t just worry about it later because it’s going to bother me too much.

My problem right now is this guy:

Commander Tom “Stinger” Jardian

They NEVER specify his role and who he is in terms of what he’s in charge of, but we know he’s a Commander because of those nifty little maple leaf-lookin things on his collar. It’s implied he’s the CAG, Commander of the Carrier Air Wing and basically in charge of all the aircraft squadrons on the carrier, but typically CAGs are at the rank of Captain (one above Commander). Each squadron in the Carrier Air Wing has a Squadron commanding officer, not to be confused with the Commanding Officer who’s in charge of the entire aircraft carrier and its different departments. Now the confusing part is the CO and the CAG are basically on the same level, they work together rather than one reporting to the other and as such they are both typically Captains.

BUT STINGER ISN’T A CAPTAIN, HES A COMMANDER. So is he the CAG or is he Maverick’s Squadron CO who reports to the CAG????

Now I have to decide if I fix his rank and make him CAG, leave it as is despite it being wrong, or make him the squadron CO(least likely, he’s too large and in-charge).

I’m more inclined to leave which makes this rant pretty much null and void but the fact I have to make a decision is infuriating. Tell me there are people who relate to navigating the military inaccuracies in this movie????

#top gun isn’t accurate #top gun #top gun 1986 #fanfic writing is hard #rant #top gun stinger #Tom Stinger Jardian

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

“Get in the fucking blanket fort.” For CJ? She is playing pretend; Freddie needs to play along now.

As always, the prompt got out of hand a bit. But I think it’s funnier like this.

I think that CJ had her bed done up like a make-believe pirate ship in Freddie’s dorm at Auradon Prep. If I’m wrong, don’t correct me, please and thank you.

Also, @tucktuck22 I remember you wanted a CJ/Freddie story, so I’m tagging you here?

I hope y’all enjoy!

CJ decided to decorate the dorm – of course she did. The fact that she’s basically a stoveaway here didn’t stop her. Or, you know. The fact that she’s technically wanted by the law? For kidnapping the king and then dipping and all that?

Anyway, CJ is the reason why Freddie has a blanket fort in her dorm right now.

„It’s not a blanket fort, Freddie,“ complains CJ, „It’s clearly a pirate ship!“

Well, it was pretty, ehm, structurally unusual, fort anyway, so, yeah. A pirate ship. Obviously.

…The haphazardly pilled up and hanged blankets could pass for sails? And, wait? Is that a spear?

Oh. It was a spear. It is a mast now, obviously.

It also has a string of fairy lights on it?

„CJ?“ Freddie asks reluctantly, „Why are there the fairy lights?“

„Well Harry has them! He hasn’t told me yet why, but he has them, so I must too!“

„Sounds fair–“

Okay, makes sense. Harry has fairy lights, so CJ must have them too. Nevermind that more accurate assessment is „Uma has fairy lights,“ Freddie knows.

Also, Freddie isn’t gonna question the assortment of daggers and knives and other weapons. As long as CJ doesn’t have any guns, she’s good.

„Freddie?“ CJ nudges her hand with back of her palm, „Wanna go into the ship?“

„Come on, Freddie. It’s awesome, look at it! It’s almost like being back home! Not that I miss home. Or anyone back there, obviously!“ CJ backtracks quickly, getting lost in her own thoughts and see-through lie, and Freddie takes a sharp breath.

She does miss home, and Celia and her father; the school and the arcade. Her allies.

CJ jumps up and down a bit and grabs her hand, dragging her towards the bed. She only stumbles a bit to kick of her boots and then climbs inside: She holds the blanket-sails open for Freddie with one hand and extends the other for her to take.

„Yeah, sure,“ Freddie giggles shakily; she can recognise an offer of comfort when she sees it. Especially when coming from CJ.

„Let’s go in there.“

So Freddie toes off her own shoes and climbs into the blanket pirate ship. It is a thing that she does now.

Holy fuck, it is a thing that she does now–––

(Great, and she is thinking of the Isle again.)

„No bad thoughts on my ship, Shadow witch,“ CJ tells her, and „What has you so glum, oh your Dark Majesty?“

„Hey! It’s a pirate ship, I told you!“ CJ defends herself, „Besides. I kidnapped the king, like, yesterday. Easy-peasy lemon-squeezy. Easier than playing a fiddle. Or a piano. Or an organ. Maybe even a guitar, really, but Diego won’t let me touch his.“

Against her will, Freddie giggles. CJ tends to have that effect on her. But even so, the laugh quickly dies in her throat.

„Just. Thinking about the Isle, yeah? About Celia. Wish she’d get to just build blanket forts too, just like that.“

And for a good reason, Freddie suspects. She has no doubts that her menace of a girlfriend would drive anyone crazy within, well, two days tops, if given access to any kind of loud noise-making instrument. In which case Freddie would conveniently vanish off the face of the earth for about a week. Not that she has any plans to gift CJ with a trumpet on FG’s watch, obviously. Absolutely not.

„Anyway,“ CJ shakes her head, which makes her hair bounce all around, and grabs Freddie’s hand with both of hers, „Point is, I’ve kidnapped the king, and I could do it again! We could take him hostage and tell him he must give us Celia and – and – and he will walk the plank if he doesn’t!“ CJ lets go of Freddie’s hand to mimic a hostage walking down the plank as well as their dramatic fall; her hands fly up high.

„Or,, Freddie joins in on the impromptu plotting session, „We could kidnap someone close to him. Maybe the old queen. Or this Audrey girl.“

„Boom!“ she finishes her dramatic reenactment and falls down, laying her head in Freddie’s lap. She looks up at her and flutters her eyelashes; Freddie brushes out some loose strands of hair that fell on CJ’s face.

„It’ll be easy, Freddsie. Really.“

„Oh!“ CJ sits up again in her excitement, „We could kidnap Mal! Harry would love it if we kidnapped Mal!“

„…Do you think he likes her enough to trade her for that many people?“

Freddie laughs at CJ’s pout.

„Yeah, no, you’re right,“ CJ deflates and fall back down. Yes, into Freddie’s lap. As she damn well should.

„Of course you are right,“ CJ continues, „No one likes Mal that much.“

„Yeah, come in,“ Freddie calls out, annoyed.

Which is why she doesn’t hear the knocking at the door at first. Though, honestly, knocking? No one has the decency to just quietly pick a lock here in Auradon.

The knocking doesn’t stop.

The doors open and through the gap in the blanket-sails, Freddie can see the king.

„Hi, Freddie,“ he says, waving awkwardly as he stands at the doorstep.

Freddie reluctantly greets back.

„I gather that you have CJ here too, so, hi CJ?“

…Okay, back track. Why does the king of Auradon know where CJ’s staying? Auradon doesn’t have a decent spy network, as far as Freddie is concerned.

…Unless?

„Greet the king, CJ,“ she whispers instead.

„CJ?“ she asks quietly. She doesn’t even need to finish the question before CJ flutters her eyelashes in utterly innocent manner, because of course she does.

And of course she did. Why would kidnapping a king in the middle of a very public event be an excuse not to run her mouth?

„Servus, Majesty,“ drawls CJ unenthusiastically before hiding her face in Freddie’s t-shirt.

„She says hello,“ translates Freddie just in case, as Ben likely isn’t used to, well, CJ. His loss, really.

„…Okay? Anyway, I wanted to, like, resolve your legal status in Auradon? Not like you’re in trouble, just–“

„Why am I not in trouble?“ CJ complains, „I kidnapped you! Held you hostage! That must be some kind of treason, right? I mean, Harriet would ground me for kidnapping her!“

„Shut up!“ Freddie hisses and nudges her in the ribs, hard, „Do you want to get in trouble?!“

„Yes!“ CJ exclaims like the crazy drama queen that she is.

„She said that she’d love to talk!“ Freddie calls at the king.

„I did not!“

„Yes you did. Now shut up and talk with the king who is insane enough to want you in his kingdom, you bloody menace.“

CJ makes a long face and mutters something like „But you love me!“, before backing out.

„Okay,“ she allows, „I’ll talk to the king. But he must come on my ship.“

She is talking to the king right now, if you couldn’t guess.

Freddie turns her eyes back at that.

„What?“

„No, nothing,“ assures Ben quickly, „I just– ship?“

Freddie peeks over the blankets and gestures at him: She means this?

„The… Blanket fort?“

„It’s a ship!“ protests CJ again.

„Yes,“ answers Freddie instead, „Now get in there?“

„Into the–“ Ben cuts himself off and gestures around, mouthing „The blanket fort“ for only Freddie to see.

„Yes, she says again, „Now get into the fucking blanket fort.��

And he does.

What is a little talk about skirting around the loosely written laws in a blanket pirate ship, really?

(Easy answer: A day to day reality, when you hang out with CJ Hook. And Freddie wouldn’t have it any other way.)

#disney descendants #cj hook #freddie facilier #ben descendants #fluff

[heavyrainandsorrow]

Teddy

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Wife!Reader

wc: 1.2k

summary: It never gets easier to say goodbye. Luckily for you, your husband knows that.

warnings: brief mention of children/starting a family & death | a little bit of angst I guess | not plot accurate | not proof read

a/n: this is the first fanfic I’ve posted in a while so I’m a little nervous! I want to write a part 2 but I think it can be read as a stand alone thing

With your husband in the Navy and you unable to follow him around wherever he went, you tend to get lonely a lot. Work could distract you for the most part, but the second that you crawled into bed and didn’t feel his arms wrap around you, it was all that you could think about. The fact that he was out somewhere and you couldn’t even be sure that he was still around. The fact that your king size bed was much too big for one person. The fact that you always made extra food when he was gone, forgetting that he wouldn’t be there to eat it.

Bradley being the funny, caring man that he is never helped much either. It wasn’t fun at all when you came home to a house both empty of his shoes and the voice that sounds more like home than your actual house does, especially not when there isn’t any hope of that voice returning anytime soon.

When he got called away to Top Gun you had been so sure that it would be like it always went; you’d get less distracted from your work, you’d build a sort of body with pillows to cuddle up to, and then he’d come home and everything would be fine. You would be a little lonely but that’s it.

Unfortunately that wasn’t how it went. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to him because he’d had to leave for his flight earlier than either of you had expected. You had woken up hours later to nothing but a small note on a pillow, telling you just how much he loved you.

That was only the beginning of just how terrible it was. The next day, you quickly realized that he hadn’t called you at all. Not even just a quick “I’m safe” phone call after he had landed.

Your anxiety was already skyrocketing before you had realized. You had been woken up abruptly by a nightmare about getting that call. That one call that could change your life forever. The idea alone made you sick to your stomach. It was bad enough not hearing from Bradley, if anyone else called you in his place you would instantly know that something wasn’t right.

You two had been married for a year, had even started talking about the possibility of a child. You called him once, but he didn’t answer. You chalked it up to someone taking his phone. That was as far as you let your brain consider.

You hadn’t gotten the phone call yet, so it had to be fine. He wasn’t dead. If he was dead they would call you.

That’s what you had to tell yourself to get to sleep. To get yourself to think about anything but him, good or bad.

Six days passed and still nothing. The sixth day went fairly normally. You woke up, went to work, and took a walk after getting home.

You decided to get the mail. It had probably been piling up for a while anyway, you had a tendency to forget about little things like that when Rooster was away.

You grabbed everything out of your mailbox, including a small package. You didn’t pay much mind to it. Once you got home, you began to flip through the mail. You got to the last one. It was a letter from none other than Top Gun, the return address a stamp with no specific name.

In that moment you swore you had fainted. You couldn’t think of anything but Bradley — nothing you said to yourself changed that.

You weren’t sure what you felt, aside from impending doom. You weren’t exactly sad yet, though maybe you were a little angry at the fact that they had to send it through the mail.

You shakily opened the letter. You couldn’t accept it. At least, not until you saw it for sure. But the second that you opened the letter, you could’ve cried with relief. You could’ve recognized your husband’s handwriting anywhere, and there it was.

It wasn’t anything fancy. In fact, it wasn’t even as neat as his handwriting usually was, but it was just another thing you loved about him.

You barely even realized that you were smiling as you read his letter,

“I miss you already, even though I’m writing this on the plane. I kissed your forehead and I tucked you in, and it still wasn’t enough. But I wasn’t going to wake you up, you need your sleep. So I decided to write to you. I would’ve texted, but this felt more personal. I may have also lost my phone in the hurry. I’m sticking with the personal thing though.

“I’ve got something to send you. I was going to leave it on my pillow but I forgot. Guess I was still more asleep than I thought.

“I love you, forever and always, and I’ll be home soon. Then I’ll do whatever to make it up to you. I’m assuming you’ve been trying to call me, so I hope you aren’t too mad sweetheart.”

His writing alone was enough to make you as happy as it made you miss him. You wish you could just go along with him. Then you wouldn’t have to worry nearly as much and he could’ve told you all of that face to face.

Once you finished reading it a second time, pretending that Rooster was really there with you, you realized that you had gotten a package. You rushed to find it. Nearly throwing it with how quickly you grabbed the small thing.

The box couldn’t hold much, especially with how light it was. Maybe a bottle of something or a really long book, but you didn’t think it could be either of those things. It was so light it felt like it couldn’t have been full of anything but packing peanuts.

Still, you took out a pair of scissors and carefully cut it open. Just in case it wasn’t just packing peanuts.

As it happened, it wasn’t. It was a cute teddy bear. Its eyes were a dark blue color and it had an interesting pattern on a light blue background and that’s when it hit you. He had made you a teddy from one of his Hawaiian button up shirts. More specifically, the one that you had accidentally ripped while on your honeymoon. You had sworn he had thrown it away, you had told him to after all. But despite that, it made you happier than you would like to admit.

You were about to throw the box away, bear still in hand, when you realized that there was a note at the bottom. You smiled a little more as you grabbed it, wondering if he was just using the phone excuse as a reason to write you letters. You didn’t mind though. It was sweet and simple, just like most of the romantic things Bradley did for you.

It was shorter than the last one. Just a small thing about how much he loved you, and then a single sentence about how you could give it to your son once he was born. You laughed softly, but the idea of starting a family with him had been at the back of your mind ever since you first brought it up.

He couldn’t come home soon enough.

#top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #bradley bradshaw fluff #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x you #rooster top gun

[torture-themed]

Upcoming: Mister Lockwood’s Daughter

Mister Lockwood visited Simon around noon on a Sunday, sometime in the spring in a year between 1874 and 1899. He was very polite. Yes, he understood that Simon couldn't help Mister Lockwood's daughter, and yes he understood that he could send her to the hospital, but Mister Lockwood's companion here had a gun, and wouldn't it really be easier if Simon were to cooperate and pack his bags?

And so it was that Simon Wright joined the well-to-do Lockwood estate. Really, it couldn't have gone smoother. Poor Clementine was too delirious to greet her father's guest politely, but he certainly didn't mind. Simon was a very good doctor. He'd fix her up in no time, and it would be like she'd never gotten sick at all. It's not as if he had a choice.

(edit: hey, Wren, it might be wise to actually include the sims in your sims whump!)

Features: historical whump, kidnapping, captivity, suffering child (I’m not necessarily aiming for child whump), medical whump, real world illness, whumpee turned caretaker

More details beneath the cut!

A note on the child thing: The child is not abused or mistreated. The whumper is deeply invested in her wellbeing and goes to great lengths to keep her away from the whump. The child does, however, suffer. Read at your own discretion. 

A note on historical accuracy: Listen… listen. I am not aiming for peak historical accuracy. Research on how the Victorians treated this disease was actually pretty tough. On top of that, I’m using the sims for visuals and relying entirely on custom content/mods for historical garb. The fashion’s gonna be all over the place and there’s not much I can do. The large gap in years is to give myself as much wiggle room as possible. If you want period whump that’s actually accurate to the period, you’re probably in the wrong place. I’m doing my best! My best just isn’t very good. 

A note on the upload schedule: I’ll be upfront: don’t expect a sensible or reasonable upload schedule. There’s no telling when or how often I’ll write. I’m going to try and upload a chapter once I have the next chapter written. We’ll see how well this goes for me!

The whump's gonna be a pretty slow burn. Our friend Mister Lockwood isn't the sort to come out swinging.

I listed all the whump I like in my bio post and then included none of it in my story ✨

#whump writing #whump #whump story #historical whump #medical whump

[beckwritesfiction]

Slow Ride - Chapter 1 

CHAPTER INDEX: X

Notes: This is the first time I've shared any of my fan fiction in around ten years. I've grown as a writer, but I wanted to do something just for fun. This follows Bob falling in love with a fellow Top Gun graduate, and Hangman getting a reality check and falling a woman unlike anyone he's ever been with before. I've taken some liberties with their back stories, but overall I think it's fairly accurate. There are some cliches in here for the fun of it. Why would Maverick have an assistant? Because it's convenient for my plot. But trust me, you'll love it. With this series, I promise a lot. Sometimes soft hangman. A well-written Bob. Anxiety representation.

Summary: Henrietta follows Maverick to his new assignment and meets an unsuspecting Hangman her first night in town.

Word Count: 2.8k

ARRIVAL: HENRIETTA

Henrietta had never considered herself adventurous.  Maybe that was why she was so on edge every time Maverick did something she knew wasn’t allowed.  If he was fired, she would be, too.  At least that was what she thought every time, but the worst that happened was a transfer.  The day Cain was ready to shut their operation down, she thought that was the day she would actually get fired.  

While they waited for Mav’s arrival, they knew he would find a way to not listen.  And they agreed they’d play dumb, otherwise they’d be in just as deep as him.  She, however, could not be dishonorably or honorably discharged.  She was just the person that fetched the papers and made the coffee.  But she didn’t like tension.  She wasn’t even sure she liked it when more than a few people were in a room at a time, let alone high-ranking officials and seasoned veterans.

Hen had been housebound for six months after what happened.  She had no confidence in being about to go into society again, and taking a walk with the man she called her uncle as a child seemed to be the only thing she looked forward to.  Online classes were hard, but they were better than none at all.  The idea that she could find a way to make money without needing to deal with everyday people was appealing.

“I’ve called you like ten times,” she said tensely when Mav dismounted his bike.  

“That’s the beauty of these things.  You can’t even feel the vibration of your telephone,” he said.

“No one calls it a telephone anymore.”  He began to walk, and she followed.  “If you want to run the test, you’ll have to do it fast.  Cain’s on his way.  He’s shutting it down.  Hondo’s about to brief you on it.”

“Shutting it down?” he echoed, perplexed.

Hen shrugged.  “I’m assuming we have the heads up so you can run it and say ‘oops’ when you come back down.  Because you will come back down, because you’re hitting mach ten and then, you know…coming back down.”

Mav looked over at her, giving her a firm nod.  “Just like all the other tests.”  When he assured her in times like this, there was this nagging feeling in the back of her mind.  He was confident, and confident people scared her because there was such a large margin for things to go terribly wrong.  How he knew every time he’d come back down, she had no idea.  Flying was something you could control until you couldn’t.  She of all people should know that. 

“I know you wanna be the guy that goes the fastest, but mach ten is fast.  It’s so fast.  Mach ten point one isn’t that much faster, and neither is ten point two.  So hit it, then come back down.  Please.  Don’t try to be Icarus.”  The team was heading toward them in the hangar, and this was her final plea. “Right now, you’re all I have left.”

“You won’t lose me over something like this,” he said, as though she should know it already.

“Anything can happen to an aircraft—”

Hondo and the team’s presence made her stop.  She wasn’t about to air out her trauma in front of a bunch of men.

Hen waited outside of Cain’s office for what felt like hours.  When Mav left, she gathered her things, closing her laptop and shoving it into her bag as she tried to keep up with him. “Good news, bad news?” she asked.  Her glasses were sliding down the bridge of her nose, so she pushed them up.

“Have you ever been a teacher’s assistant?” he inquired.

“I never got to that point before I dropped out.”

“Did you really drop out if you’re back in school?  Doing it on your laptop is just as good as doing it in a classroom.”

“I didn’t leave my house for six months,” she reminded him.

“Well, San Diego should be a nice change of scenery.  I’m going back to Top Gun.  We’ll leave in an hour.”

She let him go ahead of her, unsure if she’d be able to do it with him.  Top Gun was where it all started.  She wasn’t even sure if she would exist without it.  It was the best and worst thing that had ever happened to her.

After riding for hours, they were finally in San Diego.  He wanted to get some things settled and gave her the night off.  Knowing this was a joke, mostly because he didn’t pay her by the hour, and because he knew that he was the only person she knew in San Diego, he offered to let her make his lesson plans between studying.

What she didn’t expect was for him to take her to The Hard Deck, a bar that was crowded and loud.  Deciding it was best to give him a little privacy given his reunion with an old flame, she exiled herself to the corner.  The booth was comfortable enough, and she was able to spread out and study there.  She was there for nearly half an hour before she was snapped out of her intense focus.  The man that leaned on the corner of the table was looking at her like he expected something.  Then she realized he said something that she’d missed.

“I’m sorry?”

“I said, ‘I didn’t realize this was a college hangout.’”

He was tall, even leaning over, and his eyes were intense.  Confident.  Confidence wasn’t welcome in her world anymore.  Maverick was just about all she could take.

“Oh, yeah. I…don’t really have anywhere else to do this right now.  My uncle’s my ride, and he’s not ready to leave yet.”

There was a moment where she felt like she couldn’t breathe.  He was looking at her like he was searching for something, and she wasn’t sure there was anything for him to find.  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, his eyes leaving hers only to look at her dwindling glass of water.

Hen wanted to say that she was doing homework and that and drinking didn’t usually go together, but words weren’t coming to her that easily.  All she could do was nod.  Watching him, uniform and all, from her booth made her wonder why he came over to her.  She was not the only woman in the bar, but she was the only one in the corner looking like she had something to do.  Because she did.  When he sat down in front of her, he offered her a glass filled with something she couldn’t identify if she tried.  She never had the party phase of college. “Thanks,” she willed herself to say.  Now that she said one thing, she felt like she could say another.  Only she went to say it right when he spoke.  She laughed, looking at his tight lipped smile.  “Sorry, go ahead.”

“I’ve seen a lot, but I’ve never seen someone studying in a bar before.”

Her attention went back to her laptop, which she closed.  “What else is there to do?” she asked, and he laughed.  She hadn’t meant it as a joke, but she went with it as she stacked the folder and textbook against the wall.  

“What are you studying?” he asked.

“Journalism.”  She took a drink, and she resisted the urge to cringe.  It was strong, and she wasn’t used to it.

“I’m Hangman,” he said.  “Jake, but most people call me Hangman.”

Her heart sank.  If he had a call sign, he was probably Top Gun.  “Oh, it’s your call sign?”  Feeling like she couldn’t ignore him after he bought her a drink, she added, “What made you pick a name like Strawman?  Do you get tangled in a lot of debates?”  She laughed, then, genuinely, and he smiled only because she laughed.

“No, it’s hangman.”

“Oh, sorry.  It’s kind of loud in here.”

“What’s this about debating?” he asked.

“It’s the strawman argument.  When you’re debating with someone and you argue another point on purpose to throw off the original debate.”

“Why is it that I can't imagine you debating with anyone?”

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hen asked. She didn't want to be offended, but she wondered why he assumed that about her. 

He shrugged.  “I'm just saying, you're a pretty girl studying in a bar.  It’s not what I expect from you.”

She couldn't focus, then. He had called her pretty, and she wasn't sure when she had been out long enough to get anyone's attention, let alone someone who looked like him. If he was in Top Gun, he was probably cocky, and he was also probably way too confident for her liking. “Well, I'm not combative. I was just the president of the debate team in high school.”

“Oh, that’s adorable.” he grinned.  She went to speak, then didn’t.  She scanned the bar for Maverick, hoping he would interrupt so she didn't have to figure out how to tell him she wasn’t from there and not the kind of girl he was looking for.  “What’s your name?”

“Henrietta.  People never call me that, though.  Henri, Hen.”  He smiled into his drink before downing the rest of it.  She didn’t like that she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.  His smile, ever-present and now seeming a bit smug to her, threw her off.  Suddenly, she wasn’t so nervous just because he looked like a walking Barbie promo.  “What, are you used to hooking up with girls named Jenny?  You think I’m unique because I”m sitting in a corner studying at a bar, I have a unique name.  Which, yes, it sounds like it belongs to an old lady, and it did.  It’s my grandmother’s name.  You can say it all, I’ve probably heard it before.”

“When did this turn into us hooking up?” he challenged.

“Why else did you come over here?  I’m clearly not from here, and neither are you.”

“Relax, I never said it was a bad idea.  I just wondered where you made that connection.  And I’ve yet to check Jenny off my list.  I’ve been with two Nicole’s, though.  Henrietta definitely wasn’t on the list, but now it is.”

Hen began to scoot out of the booth, taking her laptop and mess of papers and documents with her.  “You’re disgusting, just like that drink.”

“It’s a Jack and Coke,” he said, much calmer than her.

“I don’t like Jack, and I don’t like Coke.  And that’s a strawman argument.  Have a great night.”  Her tone implied that she didn’t want him to have a great night, but he took it.  When she hurried her way through the packed bar, even more packed than when they arrived, she found that Maverick was not there.  The man playing the piano loudly set off the alarm bells in her head.  She didn’t want to be in the crowd and she didn’t want to be there anymore.  She wanted to go to her room and watch Gilmore Girls on her laptop under a blanket.

As she burst out the bar’s front door, she found Maverick in the parking lot.  “I was just about to call you,” he said.

“Well, no need.  I’m here. And all I want to do is go home.”

He pressed his lips together, shaking his head gently. “You can’t hang out with me forever.  You didn’t talk to one person tonight?”

“No, I actually did talk to one person, and I didn’t like it.”

As he mounted his bike, she adjusted her backpack and got on behind him. “The longer you hide yourself away from the rest of the world, the harder it’ll be to come back.  There should be more to your life besides this.”

She said nothing, mostly because she knew he was right.  But she also knew she didn’t have to sit around and have hot Top Gun graduates laugh at her name.  She liked her old lady name.  

#top gun #top gun maverick #hangman fanfiction #hangman imagine #hangman #bob top gun #bob floyd x ofc #bob floyd x female reader #hangman x reader #series #phoenix top gun #pete mitchell

[dragon-snoots-a-boopin]

Finally got my hands on the Studio Series Rise of the Beasts Bumblebee. Most of what I like is the robot mode...which is why I didn’t take a pic of it in vehicle mode. The head looks great, the legs are nice and I like the bigger feet too. I do wish the blade on the arm blade was painted silver but one could do that themselves. I also wish there was another of the gun molded for the other hand for that scene in the movie/trailer when he jumps out of Stratosphere. I am also not a fan of the bright yellow they used and wish they would have went for the same gold/yellow that was used on the Studio Series Gamer Edition deluxe class Bumblebee.

For those wanting to know, in the third picture I posed my Studio Series Bumblebee next to the Jada Toys diecast 1:32 scale Rise of the Beasts Bumblebee because that one is just such a better representation of Bee’s vehicle mode in the film.

The Studio Series one in vehicle mode is just meh. There are sections where there are gaps between the roof of the car and the windows and I can’t seem to fix it so I guess it’s just like that. Also, the Studio Series has the stripes on the roof of the car which isn’t accurate to the car in the movie. They also don’t paint the roll cage bits that are below the doors and they don’t have the majority of the front bumper below the cage bits as black. To top it all off, the arms sit way too far below the car and I really don’t like that. I wish the arms could fold up under the car like some of the other Studio Series movie Bee’s do. The Studio Series vehicle is also about the same size as that Jada Toys 1:32 scale diecast ROTB Bumblebee used in the third pic.

The last thing I want to say is the transformation. I don’t know if this is just my copy but, for one, the hook tabs on the legs fought me so much. They wouldn’t go together easily and while fighting those, the back wheels unclipped on me. Not a big deal since they easily clip back on but it is annoying. Also, the tabs that connect the chest were so tight that when going from robot to vehicle, while trying to untab the chest, the mushroom peg that keeps the waist attached to the upper body would disconnect. Again, not a big deal as it just goes back on but it was very annoying. 

Overall, Studio Series ROTB deluxe class Bumblebee shines the most in robot mode. The vehicle mode suffers the most and the transformation, for me, fought me several times and just was not all that fun. I’m gonna keep Bee in robot mode myself anyway. I may eventually get one of the Studio Series Bee’s based on his Revenge of the Fallen or 2007 movie Concept Camaro looks just for compare. 

#transformers #transformers rise of the beasts #autobots #transformers bumblebee #bumblebee #chevy camaro #hasbro

[pynkhues]

Can I order a headcanon for season 5 Brio please??😇 Also, your read on Rio seems so accurate like??? Having you as a writer on that show would have answered prayers I swear

Ah, thank you so much, anon! Given how much time I've spent over the last few years thinking about Rio, I'm very happy my read feeels accurate, haha.

And sure! Mmm, I'm gonna say - -

It wouldn’t have started well.

Because yeah, okay, s4 might’ve ended on the hook of a promise, of a path cleared, of something real, but she gets home after the park to a frantic Greg and the understanding of just what Annie’s done, and it all goes to shit.

Because it is Rio’s fault this time – he’s the one who had Lucy killed, even if Beth knows that her blood is on her hands too, he’s the one who got her fingerprints on the gun, and it was his threats that made Annie replace them with her own, and Beth feels the familiar rush of anger, but she also feels something bottom out in her in a way she hasn’t since Dean took the kids.

The staggering depths of her own despair.

And she would’ve gone after him at first, tracked him down at the bar, and she didn’t throw a pool ball this time, but she stood in his way, made him face her, spitting fury in a way she couldn’t contain, and Rio just - - he didn’t know what she was talking about. He wasn’t across Annie’s deal with Mick, and maybe Beth used that against him. Maybe she told him he was some king to not know what was happening in his kingdom, and Rio smarted, teeth grit, and suddenly that path that had felt so clear earlier that day was gnarled and overgrown.

Every old seed of hurt sprouting, every sharp-toothed betrayal yawning awake.

And so they split, fracture, and Beth goes back to her house without Dean but still with her children, and she googles criminal lawyers in-between bath times and leaves bitter voicemails on Mick’s phone after a few too many drinks.

And Rio, despite himself, calls Gretchen.

Which - - fuck, isn’t easy, right? Because Gretchen’s technically on Nick’s payroll, not Rio’s, and he’s already given her a mountain of shit with Nick’s arrest, but Rio tells her this is something real.

Somethin’ to maybe get back a bit of that soul she’s always complaining she’s lost.

So the next day when Annie’s pulled out of her cell and into another room, she’s not sure what to say when her court-appointed lawyer is gone and Gretchen’s there instead.

And it’s immediately different for Annie, right? Because Annie has no idea who she is, but the difference is stark immediately, and Gretchen is so collected and feels nothing like the lawyer she got for her custody trial or felony drug charge, and it’s the first time Annie’s taken a breath since the cops knocked on her door, and she knows it’s Rio, but she thinks Beth got him to do it.

So when she and Beth finally get to see each other, she says thank you.

(But Annie thinks no, she thinks this was supposed to be me being the un-fuck-up, she thinks this was supposed to be me looking after you).

And god, what’s Beth supposed to do with that?

She can’t bring herself to talk to Rio about it – sinks herself instead into scrounging up the money to pay Annie’s rent so she doesn’t lose her apartment while Gretchen’s working to get her out, into looking after Ben and her own kids and deflecting Greg and Nancy’s interrogations about it all, and trying to stay on top of the club and the city councilwoman work and ignoring the way Dean wants to talk custody arrangements, and god, all Beth really wants is Ruby.

And it’s sudden.

The way Ruby just shows up.

The way Ruby just steps into Beth’s living room and holds her, and maybe it’s only then that Beth really cries.

Only then that she feels like maybe she can get through this at all.

And the thing is, Rio’s maybe avoiding her too, because he’s not doing drops or pick-ups (and neither is Mick, which is good at least, because Beth’s not sure what she’d do if she saw him again right now), and Beth’s got no idea what to make of that, nor the gnawing feeling in her gut every time he misses a meeting.

But it’s not that long before Gretchen gets Annie out – a long argument of technicalities and legal loopholes that Beth doesn’t entirely understand – and Beth leaves the kids with Ruby and gets her sister back into her apartment and feels some storm of relief and guilt as Ben cries on the couch and Annie asks her to leave, to let her talk to her son alone, and Beth does, and she goes home, and she’s not sure what to make of it.

Rio’s G-wagon on her street.

He’s not in it though, and the familiar spark of something is felt in the sparse desert of exhaustion inside of her, but he’s not waiting at her doorstep or in her kitchen or in her bedroom, and then she sees him from there – sitting on the picnic table like he did all those months ago.

And it’s easier than it should be to slip out, to stand with the winter air nipping at her collar bone and lean herself back against the glass door and watch him for a minute.

He doesn’t look up right away, although she’s sure he knows she’s there, just threads his fingers together and holds them to the back of his neck, a cradle to push his head back into, and Beth wants to ask why, but she’s not sure what why she’s asking anymore, so instead, she just asks him if he wants a drink.

And yeah, he wants a drink.

It’s quiet inside without the kids, without Dean, and it’s not awkward like it was that time she brought him in to say goodbye, but it’s not exactly comfortable either. A stranger sort of silence that settles like a spell, and she feels him watching her when she pours him a drink, sees it when she walks over to him, passes him a bourbon, and she doesn’t say thank you because it’s his fault Annie was there at all, but she hopes maybe he tastes the words on her lips anyway when she presses them to his.

And it’s not like the first time, it’s not even like the other day – the path is still overgrown, still dense with creeping vines, with thickening thickets and poisoned fruits, but Beth thinks she likes it that way.

After all, the hunger in her is a wild thing too.

#beth x rio #nbc good girls #gg headcanons #gg season 5 #annie marks #beth boland #ruby hill #rio #i would've done this in dot points but tumblr isn't letting me which is v rude #anyway #this is what would've been in my s5 fic if i ever actually pulled it together haha #long post #welcome to my ama