#Basically ‘’ tom coming in with the left hook’’

[cowardlykrow]

Stop light shenanigans

Extra:

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Dinner & Diatribes

❝i knew it from the first look of mischief in your eye.❞

Summary: You both swiped right and suddenly you're standing in a stranger's kitchen while he makes you spaghetti.

Pairing: Modern Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: 5.2k

Author’s Note: this might be the most self-indulgent fic i've ever written, so fair warning. also, thank you tom, who inspired this by saying that dinner & diatribes would be aegon's hozier song. it's just true. anyways, this was really fun to write.

Warnings: language, recreational drug use, alcohol use, fluff, intense sexual situations (including: oral sex - female receiving, sexual intercourse - p in v), just two single people who are horny, more fluff, aegon being so cute that i couldn't stop smiling the whole time i was writing this.

It was precisely 9:39 PM on a Tuesday.

You were sitting cross-legged on your couch, nose deep in a fresh murder mystery that you had been working through for the last two days. There was a lit joint between your fingers that you were nursing, taking little hits so that it wouldn’t completely burn out, and on the cushion next to you, your phone softly vibrates and lights up; a familiar icon flashes across the screen and you can easily make out the words, “It’s a Match” from the corner of your eye. 

It’d been a regular occurrence since you had downloaded that accursed app. 

You’d been single for far too long, according to your best friend, though you hadn’t really noticed. The sweet silence of a solitary life was something that you had enjoyed for the most part. It wasn’t even like your online dating life had really taken off, either. You’d get matches but hardly anyone would reach out in any way that made you feel like they were serious. They wanted your Snapchat username, or they were in an ‘open’ relationship or asking for a threesome, and one guy even asked if you would send him pictures of your feet. Even some of the ones you thought were serious about taking you out- or even just hooking up- would end up ghosting you before anything actually happened. 

“It’s not supposed to be serious,” you could hear your friend’s words rattling around in your brain. You shake your head and focus once again on your book; they have a suspect, it’s the best friend! How fitting.

Once again, your phone lights up and vibrates. Not wanting to be distracted from the plot, you ignore your new match and get back to your mystery with anticipation; the best friend is about to confess. You go to take another hit of your joint and frown upon realizing it’s burnt out. As you move to grab your lighter, in comes another message, and another, and another. You stop what you’re doing and pick up your phone, swiping at the screen until you find the culprit. He’s known only as Aegon T, and according to the one sentence he has written on his profile, he has a dog. You swipe through his pictures- the dog is a golden retriever, the man looks like a golden retriever. 

In the message thread, he’s basically talking to himself. 

There’s four new messages waiting for you, while three little dots begin flashing at the bottom of the screen; disappearing and reappearing as you read what he’s already sent. 

“So, I’m high.”

“And I am making spaghetti… and it’s really good.”

“At least I hope it’s really good, it could just be the weed…”

“I could use a taste-tester, if you’re up for it? I can’t pay you or anything, but it’s honest work 😏”

Aegon begins typing again and you watch the screen, a smirk on your lips. You are 99% sure that the spaghetti is truly an innuendo for what he really wants and have half a heart to just block him, but you watch as those little gray dots continue in the bottom left corner of the screen; he’s going back and forth with himself and you can’t help but find it oddly cute. Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you contemplate a witty response, but before you can even begin typing, he sends a fifth message. 

“That was weird as fuck, right?”

Then a sixth.

“You probably don’t want to come over to some random guy’s house on a Tuesday.”

He finishes up with a seventh message.

“Unless you do…”

He almost sends an apology. After all, what's another message? He’s already fucked this whole thing up; not even giving himself a chance before he nose-dived. If he was being honest, he should just go ahead and delete his whole account; save you from secondhand embarrassment and save himself from repeating the same mistake again in the future. He sets the phone down on the kitchen counter and goes back to ripping bong hits to calm his nerves. Though, he’s unable to keep himself from checking his phone for a response; a response that likely wasn’t going to come and he’d spend the rest of his night feeling like a complete idiot. 

Seven back-to-back messages should have screamed ‘red flag’, but you’re glancing at the clock as if you were seriously contemplating taking this stranger up on his offer. After all, you do have needs just as much as the next person. But, you’re wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of pajama shorts, your hair’s a mess, and you were covered in the crumbs of your munchie snacks. Meaning, you were nowhere close to being prepared for what was sure to happen between you and this random stoner offering you dinner. 

Yet, you respond to him, “I could never turn down spaghetti”. 

Aegon’s stirring the sauce when he gets your message. He’s instantly elated, thrusting a celebratory fist into the air. His fingers fly across the keyboard swiftly, sending another quick message, “Atta girl 🙃 My place is on the corner of 9th and 51st, above Jasper’s.”

“Be there soon,” you reply with haste. 

It was apartment #4 and you made sure to text your friend the address, and given name of your potential murderer, and also share your location for her to keep an eye out.  She says all you have to do is text her at any time if you need her to call and bail you out with a fake emergency. All she asks in return is for you to have fun and let her know if you are planning on spending the night- which was an idea that you weren’t opposed to, but it wasn’t something you were planning on. 

You’re nervous as you stand outside of the door to his apartment, fist hovering for a moment. Now’s the time to make a fast exit- you haven’t met him, you could turn around right now and never meet him. You could wake up alive in the morning, safe in your own bed. Or, you can knock on the door and have what might be a really nice spaghetti dinner with a really nice guy. Hell, he could even be the love of your life and in fifty years you’ll both look back on this day and laugh about how you met on Tinder and how you were stupid enough to go to his house and not a public place. 

Finally, you knock. 

Aegon puts the lid back on his spaghetti sauce and shuffles into the living room. Sunfyre is on the couch with his ears perked; his tail’s wagging and he’s panting eagerly, waiting patiently to meet this new visitor. Aegon whispers over to him, “wish me luck,” and thinks to himself, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish, please don’t be a catfish. He peers through the peephole when he approaches the door and there you are, a sigh of relief deflates his chest. 

“Oh, thank God,” you can hear him say as the door swings open. His accent is surprisingly British. “You’re real.”

The very first thing that you notice are his eyes. They’re piercing; somehow blue and lavender at the same time– the color of a warm, summer sunrise and they’re crinkling at the edges as he smiles. He’s wearing a pair of dark gray sweats and a pale green hoodie, and the only word that comes to mind when you look at him is warmth. He’s somehow more attractive in person than he is in the pictures on his profile, which you didn’t think was possible, but he’s standing right in front of you and you can’t help but think to yourself, he doesn’t look like a murderer. 

Then again, neither did Ted Bundy.  

Aegon stands there for a moment, just staring at you, unable to do anything else. His words escape him, he can barely even breathe. You look exactly the same as your pictures; even without the makeup and even in the shitty, fluorescent overhead lights of the hallway. Even in a sweatshirt and pajama shorts, you’re stunning. He’s having a hard time believing that you actually showed up and he doesn’t realize that he’s been staring for much too long until you shrug back at him. 

“Did you think I wasn’t?” You ask with creased brows and a lopsided smile.

The corners of his lips pull upwards as he looks at you, “I don’t know. You’re just so beautiful, I’m still not entirely convinced you aren’t some sort of hologram… or a robot.” 

“Wow, you’re pretty smooth,” you say with a playful smirk, desperately trying to keep your composure— trying to play it cool, hoping that he hasn’t caught on to the fact that you’re secretly spiraling, because it took all of one smile and one compliment and you were done for. “But, I’ll have you know that flattery won’t work on me. I’m here for the spaghetti and the spaghetti alone.” 

“My apologies,” Aegon says with a chuckle as he holds his hands up defensively. “Right this way, then.” 

He steps to the side, allowing you to enter his apartment, and shuts the door behind you. It’s nice, clean, smells like fresh baked bread and tomato sauce. There’s niche artwork adorning the walls, he’s got candles burning, and there’s some lowkey, downtempo R&B playing softly in the background. He quickly moves past you and disappears into the kitchen, leaving you to follow him. 

However, before you can take all of two steps into his apartment, a flash of golden fur is suddenly at your hip, pawing for attention. You drop down to a knee and happily accept any and all kisses from the pup. “Oh! Hi, what’s your name?”

Aegon sticks his head around the corner and says, “That is Sunfyre. In case you were wonderin’, he’s a very good judge of character and I will be consultin’ with him later where you’re concerned, fair warning.” 

You roll your eyes and scratch behind Sunfyre’s ears, his tail thumps in approval. 

“Would you like something to drink?” He continues and disappears back into the kitchen. “I’ve got wine and bottled water. Oh, and milk?” There’s a rustling in the kitchen before Aegon adds with a nervous chuckle, “scratch that, there is no milk.” 

You politely excuse yourself from Sunfyre and step into the small dining room off of the kitchen. 

There’s a grin on your lips, which you pursed so that he doesn’t think you’re laughing at him. Sunfyre joins the two of you and circles around his owner’s legs as Aegon empties an almost full half-gallon of milk down the drain. His kitchen is small but looks to be well used, which you appreciate. You know almost nothing about this man, other than his name- if ‘Aegon’ was even his real name- and the name of his dog, and yet here you were, standing in the threshold of his kitchen with a strange sense of comfortability as if you had been lifelong pals. 

“Water is fine,” you tell him. 

He produces a bottle of water from his fridge and tosses it over to you with ease and goes back to the stove. You step further into the kitchen, taking in your surroundings. The kitchen, like the living room, is covered in artwork and vintage decor- things you’d only find in some obscure thrift store or estate sale. On the refrigerator are a collection of magnets from different cities and countries, real touristy type shit. Some of them even had names on them; Alexander, Aaron, Alistair, Alan, Adolf. 

Maybe these are the names of people he’s killed. 

“You travel a lot?” You ask, trying to keep the conversation going.

“I try to,” he says from over his shoulder as he continues to stir the sauce. You can hear him set the lid back on the pot. “Most of those are from my sister, Helaena. She thinks it’s hilarious to give me magnets with random ‘A’ names since you’ll never find the name Aegon on any of those,” he says from behind you. He’s leaning against the counter with a half glass of wine. You quirk an eyebrow at him, not fully convinced. “She has a few from me that say Helen.”

“Is that her?” You ask, finger pointing to a pretty blonde in one of the many photographs he had pinned up.

He nods and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close that you can feel his warmth, smell his aftershave. The proximity causes you to blush and he smirks in response, leaning over your shoulder as he points to the other people in the pictures. “Those two are my little brothers, Aemond and Daeron,” he claims and then points to two women. “That’s my half-sister, Rhae, and next to her is my mother.”

“The redhead?” You ask surprised, given she didn’t look like she could be old enough to have four grown children. He nods and takes a step back, leaning against the counter with half-lidded eyes and a tipsy blush. “She looks like she could be your sister,” you say softly, turning back to glance at all of the faces; he seemed proud of his family, like they were very close. 

You turn away from the fridge and lean against the counter at his side. It’s quiet for a moment, save for the music and the sound of boiling water where the noodles were cooking. You look at him and the corners of your lips can’t help but twist up into a shy smile, but you bite at the inside of your cheek out of nervous habit. He props himself up on his elbows, taking a sip of his wine, clearly comfortable with the silence. 

“So,” you look up at him and his little smirk grows. “About the job…”

“Ah, yes,” he nods. “As I stated earlier, I won’t be able to pay you a monetary wage, but the position does come with a benefits package.”

“And what exactly would this benefits package include?” There’s an innocent flirtatiousness in your voice that only adds to the tension. 

“Outside of the free gourmet meals that I would be providin’ to ya, which is obviously the most important part,” he smiles and steps to the side to grab a spoon from the drawer and holds it out to you. Your fingers softly close around his as you pluck the utensil from his grasp. He clears his throat to distract from the fact that he was visibly flustered from the slight touch. “There’s also unlimited cuddle sessions,” before he can finish, you shoot him a look. “With Sunfyre, of course! He’s the real boss ‘round here, after all.” 

“Cuddling with the boss?” You quirk an eyebrow and look down at the golden retriever, his eyes round and gleaming; clearly waiting for a hand-out. “Sounds like a conflict of interest to me.”

“Well, if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about,” he counters quickly with a soft yet playful tone. “I s’pose we could renegotiate the terms of the agreement and you could have me instead.” 

“I’m listening.”

“He might be better at cuddling for obvious reasons and he might be better lookin’,” Aegon continues. “But, I give better backrubs. I mean, I have thumbs and he don’t. You can’t give decent backrubs without thumbs, can you? Plus, he’s a sloppy kisser.” 

“Oh, you’re really trying to sweeten the deal now, huh? Backrubs and kisses? I must admit, that is quite a compelling offer,” you muse. “It seems my decision hinders on whether or not you can actually cook, wouldn’t want to accept the position blindly, now would I?”

“Are ya doubtin’ my skills?” He asked playfully. 

“No offense, but you possess the aura of someone who could fuck up a can of Spaghettios,” you tell him with a sincere smile. “So, forgive me if I don't get my hopes up.”

Aegon laughs and it’s a warm and infectious sound that fills the kitchen. It’s genuine, as is his perfect smile. You can’t seem to keep yourself from staring; eyes softly tracing every detail of his face– from his full, pink pout, to the scar above his right eyebrow, and the dimple of his chin– thinking to yourself that you’ve never seen a man more beautiful. His smile turns back into a smirk as he notices you staring at his lips and you look up to meet his eyes. There’s something about the way he looks at you that leaves you feeling vulnerable. His gaze softens as you look away, turning your attention back to the spaghetti sauce on the stove in front of you to distract yourself from the blush creeping up your neck.

There’s only one way this night ends.

It was obvious before you even left your house and it was certainly obvious now. 

“Go on, then,” he prods, motioning to the pot on the stovetop.

His eyes are wide with anticipation as you dip into the simmering sauce, stirring it a few times before bringing the spoon to your lips. He’s nervous; it’s his mother’s recipe– one he’s spent years perfecting– but with his luck, you will most likely think it’s steaming garbage. Yet, he watches intently; holding his breath as your perfect lips curl to blow softly, cooling the sauce before you finally taste it. 

The moment the spoon touches your tongue, you're determined to remain impartial. After all, you’ve had your fair share of disappointing meals from men who’ve claimed to be great cooks. Aegon certainly could be the very latest and you wouldn’t be at all surprised. So, you keep your expectations low, and try your hardest to remain stoic, but as the flavors begin to unfold, you can feel your resolve wavering. 

It’s good. Better than most. 

Reluctantly, you have to admit that this is the second-best sauce you’ve ever had, right after your grandmother’s. You glance up at Aegon, who’s watching you with a mix of anxiety and hope, and you can’t help but smile. 

“I have to give it to you,” you say, your voice betraying a hint of admiration. “This is incredible. Almost as good as my grandmother’s.”

The relief and pride that spread across his face makes your heart flutter. 

“Yeah?” He asks with a toothy grin. 

“I’m still not completely convinced that you can actually cook, but you can– at the very least– make some top-notch spaghetti sauce,” you tell him as you place your spoon to the side. 

“Top-notch, eh?” He asks playfully as he begins plating your meal. “I’ll take it.” 

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you say to him with a laugh. “It’s just spaghetti sauce.” 

“Just spaghetti sauce? Don’t let my mum hear you say that,” he says with a smirk, setting a full plate in front of you on the counter. “I guess I’ll just have to work extra hard on the next one.”

“Assuming there will be a next one,” you reply, tone dripping with playful sarcasm. “Though, you have set the bar pretty high tonight. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Well,” he murmurs as he steps closer, his body brushing against yours as he reaches around you to grab a plate. His lips are hovering above the shell of your ear, his voice low and teasing, causing your cheeks to immediately flush as the heat between the two of you intensifies. “I’m nothing if not a perfectionist.”

For a split second you expect for him to lean in for a kiss. Your heart is simultaneously skipping beats and racing at the same time; your breath catching in your throat as he leans in— But then he smirks, grabbing the plate and taking a step backwards. He’s doing it on purpose, you realize; his proximity expertly calculated to keep you on edge. You look up at him with wide, sparkling eyes and he knows he’s got you right where he wants you. The soft blush of your cheeks has his blood pumping and sends a surge of adrenaline through him. He’s trying his absolute best to play it cool but the way you’re biting your lip and looking at him has him unraveling.

“Is that so?” You ask, raising an eyebrow. “What other skills do you have up your sleeve?”

His grin widens as he looks down at you, setting his empty plate to the side. His gaze, once again, drops to your lips. “I have a few tricks,” he says softly, his voice filled with promise. “But I doubt you’d believe me if I told you, so how about I just show you?” 

“What?” You ask with a playful innocence. “Before dinner?”

“I’m not really in the mood for spaghetti anymore.” 

“Oh?” Your smirk is only growing. “What are you in the mood for?”

Aegon says nothing, but a confident grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he rests his hands on your hips. He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in by the waist, until you’re pressed against him and his lips are on yours. The kiss is both gentle and urgent and a little bit awkward, as any first kiss should be. You felt like a teenager again, kissing a boy for the first time– butterflies in your stomach and all.

It takes no time at all for you to find your rhythm with him, and he deepens the kiss, pushing you up onto the kitchen counter to meet his height. Your arms naturally drape across his shoulders, your legs wrap around his middle. He’s completely taken over your mind, filling up every tiny space that he can fit into; the smell of his cologne, the scratch of his stubble against your skin, the feeling of his hands squeezing the flesh of your thighs– his fingertips teasing just underneath the hem of your shorts. 

Breathless, he pulls away from you as he pulls your sweatshirt over your head. He stops for a moment to take in the sight of you; clad only in your bra and shorts, lips red and blotchy, swollen and full. You’re looking up at him from under your lashes, softly biting your bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. He gently lifts his hand up to your cheek and traces the curve of your cupid’s bow with his thumb, providing one last show of tenderness before he leans in to capture your lips in another searing kiss. 

His touch is suddenly rushed; spreading a wildfire across your skin in the wake of his lips as he rips off the remainder of your clothes. It doesn’t take long at all before you’re sitting exposed on his kitchen counter in only a thong, blushing wildly and covering your face with your hands. 

“No– no hiding,” he clicks his tongue and pulls your hands away from your face. “I want to see you.”

He whispers a string of profanities and compliments as his starving eyes roam your figure. Self-doubt creeps into your mind and you momentarily consider making a quick exit, convinced he won’t like what he sees, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel desired in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. 

Aegon’s gaze is electrifying and intense, drawing you in and silencing your negative thoughts instantly. His hands pull you in by the waist, sliding you to the edge of the counter as his lips work their way down your chin and neck; leaving a trail of red marks down to your chest. He hums, smirking as he takes one of your breasts in his mouth. His hand kneads the other, rolling your hardened nipple between two fingers. Your head falls back, lips parted slightly as you breathe out his name. 

Each sound he elicits from you urges him on even further until he’s on one knee, looking up at you from his position with those pretty eyes. He runs a hand up the back of your calf, softly teasing you with his fingertips before tossing your leg over his shoulder. You knew where he was going, and yet, you were still surprised as he began placing open mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs; shivering in anticipation as goosebumps formed on your skin. 

“You’re so wet,” he says proudly, praising you. 

His eyes are locked with yours as his fingers delicately smooth over your clothed clit. He hooks a finger around the dampened cotton and pulls your thong to the side, groaning at the sight of your perfect pussy. Without wasting another second, Aegon’s mouth is suddenly on you and your hands immediately find the back of his head; fingers curling into the roots of his silver hair. 

You roll your hips against his tongue, cursing out as your legs begin to shake. He moans, face still buried deep in you and the vibrations have you writhing. Both of his arms are wrapped around your thighs now, holding you tight to him, not letting up for even a second. Then he stands, lifting you up onto his shoulders. You squeal in shock, holding onto him tightly, but he doesn’t stop; he continues to devour you as he blindly carries you towards his bedroom. 

When his knees hit the side of his bed, he tosses you back onto the mattress. 

You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch as he strips out of his clothes. . You can see the outline of his arousal; prominent and pressing firmly against the fabric of his sweats. You bite your lip at the sight and he smirks as he catches your stare. His movements are unhurried, giving you ample time to appreciate the sight before you. His hoodie and shirt come off first, then his sweats, and you can’t help but notice the way that his muscles flex with each motion. He’s not overly built, but there’s a solid strength in his frame that is evident in the way he moves.

Outside, headlights from passing cars cast streaks of light and shadows across the walls of his room. It’s quiet, the music in the other room has stopped playing and all you can hear is the sound of your own heart beating in your ears. You swallow thickly, encompassed by the tension of the moment as he crawls up the length of your body; placing tender kisses along your skin. His lips leave a trail of warmth, each touch igniting a spark that travels through your entire body.

When he reaches your face, he pauses, his breath mingling with yours as he hovers just inches away. The anticipation builds, thick and electric in the air between you. His lips find yours in a kiss that starts slow and tender but quickly deepens; fingers threading through your hair as he pulls you closer, his body pressing yours deeper into the plush mattress. Your hands explore his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, feeling the tension and strength beneath his skin and coming to rest on his shoulders; gripping tightly as he continues to worship your body with his mouth. Each kiss, each touch, is deliberate, heightening your senses and pulling you further into the moment.

You curse at the feeling of his girth against your entrance. Your hand moves up to the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips as he presses slowly into you. 

“Oh fuck,” he whimpers into the crook of your neck as his arms become weak. 

He knows that he won’t last like this; it’s been a while and you feel way too good. He’s slow at first, wanting to steady himself and maintain control, but his rhythm picks up quickly; hips moving with an unrelenting rhythm, each thrust bringing you both closer to the edge. You can feel his muscles tense, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck. His moans are a mix of pleasure and desperation, and you can tell he’s fighting to hold back.

You tighten your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the overwhelming need to reach that peak together. His pace quickens, the tension in his body building to a breaking point. You feel the same pressure inside of you mounting before it’s suddenly crashing over you like a wave. He follows seconds later, a low groan escaping his lips as he spills into you. The intensity of the moment leaves you both breathless and clinging to each other, bathing in the afterglow. 

“That was incredible,” he murmurs against your skin, head pressed to your chest as you stroke his hair softly. His eyes flutter shut as he listens to the sounds of your heartbeat. 

You hum in agreement, smiling to yourself as you savor the peacefulness of the moment. 

Suddenly, you’re joined by Sunfyre jumping up on the bed, his tail wagging enthusiastically. You smile at him and pat the empty space next to you, inviting him to join your cuddle session. He eagerly accepts the invitation, circling the bed a few times before snuggling up next to you. Aegon lifts his head and smiles, clearly pleased that you would be so open to having the dog in bed with you. He wraps his arm around both you and Sunfyre, pulling you closer. 

“This is perfect,” he says softly, his voice filled with contentment as he lays his head back on your chest. 

"So, about that job offer," you say playfully, your fingers tracing patterns along his skin. "I think I'll accept the position. When would you like for me to start?"

He lifts his head to look at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “How about tomorrow night at seven?”

Before you can respond, a distinct burning smell reaches your nose. Your brows furrow as you sniff the air. “Do you smell that?”

Aegon’s eyes widen in realization. “The spaghetti!” 

He jumps up from the bed, pulling on his clothes quickly, and scrambles into the kitchen. You follow behind him, tossing one of his t-shirts over your head and meet him in the kitchen. 

“I guess I forgot to turn off the burner,” Aegon looks disappointed but then chuckles, shaking his head. He looks at you with a glint in his eye and smirks. “Occupational hazard, I guess.”

“Oh, that sucks!” You laugh, playfully nudging him. “Is it too late to back out of the job now?”

“Way too late for that,” he says as he pulls you into a soft kiss, silencing any doubts immediately. “You’re mine now.” 

“Mm,” you hum against his lips. “But I came here for the spaghetti.”

He chuckles and pulls back slightly. “Will you settle for pizza?”

“I’ll settle for anything, as long as it’s with you,” you say with a smile as you wrap your arms around his waist. “And as long as there’s extra cheese!”

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chapter 2

round one

2 september 1995

Mattheo's POV

I'm late. Second class of the term and I'm already late. Not that anything important is done in the first lesson of term, just lectures about O.W.L.s and starting to make something of ourselves. Personally, I'll pass.

I move leisurely through the now empty corridors of Hogwarts as I make my way to McGonagall's class room. Some first year runs past me, probably lost, and I sigh. Everyone is always so happy to come back to the castle in the fall. Sure Hogwarts is better than being at home but I'm still counting down the days until I'm completely free. I reach the doors to the Transfiguration classroom and check my watch, 5 minutes late. I shoulder open the door and step into the classroom. At the noise, everyone's heads turn to me.

"Mr. Riddle! You are late. 5 points from Slytherin," McGonagall's voice cuts through the air.

"Apologies, Professor," I say dryly, kicking the door closed behind me and scan the room for empty seats.

"Well come in, let's not delay any further. There is an empty seat up here next to Miss Potter," McGonagall says, turning back to the papers in her hand. My eyes find the empty seat right next to Miss Perfect herself. I sigh and drop into the seat next to her, eyeing her carefully. Her jaw is clenches and her shoulders tight, clearly making an effort to ignore my presence.

Euphemia Potter. Gryffindor Princess and Little Miss Perfect. She and her brother are the most self righteous people I've ever met. When the Potters break rules, they win house points, awards and are called heroes; when Slytherins break the same rules, we lose house points and get our arses thrown in detention. Euphemia spends her free time running around with the Weasley Twins, setting pranks and causing havoc for the rest of the student body, in particular Slytherins. But the princess never gets caught and if she does, she just bats her eyelashes, tosses her auburn hair over her shoulder and is off the hook. Her brother isn't any better. I spent most of last term being blamed for opening the Chamber of Secrets (which I had never heard of in my life) but innocent little Harry Potter just happens to actually find it, kill a basilisk out of pure luck and starts telling everyone he saw the ghost of a young Tom Riddle, my late father. All just in time for the end of term. Two words: Dragon Shit.

I look at Euphemia out of the corner of my eye, watching her studiously listen to whatever McGonagall is droning on about. The worst part of Euphemia? She's drop dead gorgeous. Most of the guys in this school want her and she fucking knows it. And no matter how much I hate her, I can't deny that the curve of her figure, the fullness of her lips, and the way her auburn hair highlights the bright green of her eyes is about as perfect of an appearance as you can get. As she listens to the lecture, she fiddles with the ring on her left pointer finer and I catch a glimpse of the infamous lighting scar on her wrist, the one she shares with her brother. Although I don't understand why his is on his forehead and hers is on my wrist.

Euphemia and I have been at odds since our third year. Before that, she was quiet and more shy; preferring to study in the library and read more than anything else. I didn't like her then, but she was tolerable. She and her friends stayed out of my way and we minded our own business. Third year rolls around, however, and Harry comes to Hogwarts and all anyone can talk about is the Potter siblings. That year, Euphemia went from a quiet and studious person, to the bane of my existence. She'd joined the Quidditch team, quickly becoming an impressive chaser, and come out of her shell over the summer and suddenly guys wanted her and girls wanted to be her. Me? I just wanted to kill her. She got it into her head that I was the one trying to get some magic stone Dumbledore had hidden in the castle to bring back my father, as if I want that, and basically threatened me. 

Yes my father was Voldemort and yes, sometimes I use that fact to my advantage to get my way but I don't buy into any of the shit my father stood for. I may not remember him, but the scars on my mother's back tell me all I need to know about the piece of shit. I don't really care about blood purity or any of that crap but to have any kind of power in Slytherin, you better at least act like you do. Especially if your last name is Riddle.

Euphemia turns her head suddenly, eyes meeting mine as she raises her eyebrow at me. Shit, she caught me staring. I hold her eyes for a moment before turning back to McGonagall. She turns back to front too and sighs slightly, as if me looking at her actually bothers her.

After a very long and dry lecture by McGonagall about her expectations and plan for the year, the period ends. Euphemia stands quickly, moving to stand with her groupies. The Weasley twins-- I couldn't tell them apart if my life depended on it and they are equally irritating so really what's the point--stare daggers at me before they turn to leave the classroom with Potter. I sigh and roll my eyes, turning to my friends, gathered out in the hall. Elladora, Evan, and Theo are out in the hall. I make eye contact with Theo and give him and nod as I approach.

"Oh!" Elladora exclaims as she pretends to faint into Evan's arms. Evan and Ella laugh loudly. Ever since hearing the rumor that both the Potters fainted on the train yesterday began circulating, Ella has been relentless. She despises Euphemia more than anyone. "Salazar! How could anyone be so pathetic?" Ella turns to face Euphemia, whose face is stoic although her eyes are fiery. She levels Ella with a defiant stare and turns away rolling her eyes, seemingly unaffected.

"Aw you hurt the princess' feelings," Evan laughs cruelly, nudging Ella with his shoulder as we start making out way to the Great Hall for lunch.

"Good! She's so pathetic. Can you imagine fainting because you're too afraid of a dementor? Big and scary Potter is finally showing her true colors," Ella continues, laughing maniacally.

"Ella, stop! Dementors are horrid no matter how brave you are," Astoria pipes up, joining us in the hall. Astoria, unlike the rest of us, is friends with Potter and often defends her to the rest of us. 

"Still, it is kinda funny," Theo adds as we sit down at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.

"You don't even know if its true," Astoria argues.

"So what? As long as it gets under the princess' skin!" Ella laughs with Evan.

"Get's under who's skin?" Lorenzo asks, taking a seat next to me.

"Don't ask," I grumble, not wanting Euphemia Potter to infiltrate my brain anymore than necessary.

"Euphemia Potter," Theo supplies to Enzo before turning his gaze to me as I grab some food from the center of the table. "What's got your wand in a knot? Sitting next to the hottest girl in school messing with your head already?"

I flip Theo off and take a bit of my apple.

"You're sitting next to her now?" Enzo asks, trying to hide his surprise.

"I got to class late. Only desk open."

"Matt, you're already gathering tardies? We've had two classes!" Astoria exclaims, looking at me disappointedly.

"Sorry, Mum," I retort sarcastically.

"So not only are you going to be doing rounds with Potter twice a week, but you're sitting next to her in classes now too?" Evan smirks, probably concocting a little story to entertain himself.

"He's going soft," coos Ella mockingly.

"Fuck off, Ella," I say, my temper starting to rise causing me to grind my teeth.

"They're gonna fuck!" Evan pronounces, causing Enzo and Theo to laugh.

"HA! I'll take that bet," Enzo laughs though a bite of food. I level Enzo with a glare, causing him to raise his hands in mock surrender.

"C'mon Matt, you can't deny you want a piece of that!" Evan outlines the shape of a woman with his hands, making lewd faces as he does.

"She's not a pie and you're disgusting," Astoria deadpans.

"Euphemia Potter is nothing but a spoiled brat. You can have my piece, Ev," I grumble, grabbing my bag and standing. I've had enough tormenting for one day and I still have to deal with prefect rounds tonight. I need some quiet. 

✦                                                                                         ✦                                                                                            ✦

Later that evening, I emerge from my room, needing to meet Euphemia for our first prefect rounds. I ignore someone calling my name as I make my way through the common room and push my way through the Slytherin dorm entrance. Standing, directly on the other side of the corridor, is Euphemia Potter. "Good let's go," I say curtly and continue walking down the hall. The first hour passes agonizingly slow. A part from a few words from Potter and some grunts of acknowledgement, we pass the time in tense silence. I watch the girl from the side of my eye. At some point during the day, she pulled her long auburn hair back from her face and into a ponytail but her uniform is as prim and perfect as it was this morning. 

"Stop staring at me," she says suddenly, not turning to look at me.

"I wasn't," I grumble. 

"Oh good, you can still speak. I was getting worried you had lost your command of the English language," she says, her tone haunty as her eyes flick to me for a moment. 

"Just not willing to share my talents with the likes of you." She rolls her eyes in response and turns away, peering down a dark corridor as we pass by. "Did you really faint?" I say suddenly and, to be honest, I'm not really sure why. She keeps walking but her posture stiffens as if readying for a blow. 

"You've barely made a sound all night and you open with that? What, have you been working up the nerve to ask?" 

"Did you?" I press. While I admit I do enjoy riling Potter up, there's a genuine curiosity there too. 

"Why are you asking?" She asks, stopping to turn to face me, her arms crossed over her chest. She looks up at me, her expression guarded and defiant. 

"Why are are you avoiding the question?" I challenge. Her jaw flexes as her eyes search my face and she takes a measured breath. 

"Yes, I did and I'm not ashamed. And no matter how much you and your friends try to make me feel ashamed I won't." Euphemia speaks quickly. I didn't actually think she'd admit it and I can't hide the smirk forming on my face. 

"Never seen you admit a weakness before, Princess," I chuckle, continuing our walk of the corridors. 

"Don't call me princess!" She snaps after me, trailing along in my wake. "And it is not a weakness." 

"Whatever you have to tell yourself, princess," I retort, enjoying the reaction I'm getting. 

"Did you even see the dementor? I bet it didn't even come close to you," she grumbles, catching up to me. I don't respond. Truthfully, my friends and I didn't see it and didn't even know why the train had stopped until we were almost at the station but I'll be cursed before I tell her that. "You didn't did you?" Euphemia continues to press, chuckling when I don't respond. "Godric, that is so typical of you lot. Making fun of things you know nothing about. Do you ever-" 

"Shut up, Potter. You don't know anything about me!" I snap, grinding my teeth. 

"Oh yes, and you know all about me, right? You know everything. The great Mattheo Riddle, who is smarter and better than everyone else. No one else could possible suffer because you have the monopoly on pain!" She rants, sarcasm and disdain leaking into her tone. 

"Oh like you know pain," I snap, "The Perfect Potters have it so hard! Everyone loves you and lets you do whatever you want." 

"You don't know anything about me or what I've been through!" She yells, turning to face me, anger and fire in her eyes. 

"Please! Don't give me the whole orphan act, I bet you don't even remember any of it!" I yell back. I raise my hand, waving it through the air as if to brush her off, but as I do, the perfect and fearless Euphemia Potter does something I don't expect. She flinches. 

Just a for a second, her shoulders tighten and she stiffens, as if preparing for a blow, and fear flashes in her eyes. But then its gone, hidden back under the mask of anger and loathing. I lower my hand slowly, examining her face. We watch each other for a long moment before she takes a step towards me, glaring up at me defiantly. "I remember plenty." 

She holds my gaze for a long moment before turning away and continuing down the hall. We walk in tense silence for the rest of our shift. As round the last corner, Potter turns to head up the flight of stairs on our left. "Meet me outside Gryffindor Common Room on Thursday," she calls over her shoulder as she stars up the stairs, not sparing a glance back my way as she walks out of sight.  

[intheorangebedroom]

Hey orange besties 🧡

Here's the one thing none of you asked for but I'm giving you anyway!! Listen, Halloween is my favourite holiday and I'd do just about anything rather than start working on my WIP because it terrifies me.

So here's the most indulgent headcanon EVER, please feel free to scroll past this nonsense of a post, but not before I could wish you all a very spooky Halloween 🧡

Yes, I have no shame.

Explicit HC below the cut 🔞

This Halloween, you've convinced Frankie to host a party at your place. He was really the first surprise, you're not exactly the party type, yet here you are.

You’ve been on Pinterest looking up aesthetics and recipes since August, basically, you've spent an inordinate amount of money on fancy decorations, stocked up enough candy to give all the kids in the tristate area a stomach ache of biblical proportions, and it's finally happening, today is the day, this is your version of the American dream.

But what will you and your friends dress up as???

Rosie

For years, the two of you have had an ongoing argument about what constitutes a proper Halloween costume. To you, it’s either crafty and creative, or spooky if not disgusting. To her… Let’s say she’s explored all the slutty options out there.

This year, the debate resumes as early as September. Only this time, you outsmart her, challenging her to look sexy despite a plain horror get up.

Never one to retreat, always one to excel, Rosie chooses to dress up as Candyman. With the fur and the hook and the scarf, down to the fake bees painted on the left side of her face. And yes, she still is smouldering hot as all hell.

Will

Will? Dressing up? Fucking hell, why are you doing this to him? He’s a grown ass man. He was a warrior, for fuck’s sake. He’s not gonna go around and spend money on a fucking costume!

But. He’ll be damned if he’s the only one who doesn’t play along. He can probably whip up something with whatever he’s got in his closet, anyway. Like…. Motorcycle gang leader, for example.

(at this point, orange besties, I’m cackling in French).

Yovanna

Yovanna. Understood. The assignment. Obviously because she’s hands up the smartest one of all the TF bunch.

She dresses up as the Corpse Bride. Your jaw drops to the floor when you open the door. She's stealing the show and it is fine. You’ve no idea how she can look this at ease with all that heavy makeup covering her skin, but she looks like she's having a hell of a good time, oh and also SHE'S FUCKING STUNNING.

Pope

Pope could have made an effort and go as Victor, right? He should have. Did he, though? No. No he didn't.

Pope dresses up as Miguel O'Hara from Across The Spider-Verse, so he can slither into this tight af costume and strut his butt like a Spidey slut.

Tom

Kidding. Tom's not invited. But if he were...

Benny

Sweet, sweet Benny, our sunshine boy, our precious blond gem of a baby man…

Benny considered not coming at all. Not that he's not over you yet, come on, let's be serious, it's been over two years. He's totally over you. He’s slept with at least a dozen different women since you broke up and his friendship with Frankie is on the mend, so yeah, over you and beyond, thank you very much. Ok, he'll go, then. Besides... he wants to see you. Just to make sure he’s really over you. What could possibly go wrong?

A horror classic connoisseur, his first idea is to dress up as something overly sublte. Say… Tom Conway in the 1942 Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People, for instance. Only because it would be obscure enough for people to ask him about it, which would give him a good opportunity to show off his impressive... cinematic knowledge. Not at all because you and the director share the same last name. Of course not. And it has nothing to do with the fact that you’d probably be the only one in the room able to identify the costume. Argh fuck, he can’t go as Tom Conway in the 1942 Jacques Tourneur’s Cat People, can he? 

Fine. He’ll play it safe. Mainstream. Mike Meyers. But Mike Meyers with a twist: the kid version. 

What he does not anticipate, is how many times he gets asked if he’s that stupid Pennyclown from It. Doesn’t anyone have any fucking classic culture?? It’s winding him up real bad and he’s starting to think he’ll leave early, until you walk up to him with a shy smile and a tall glass of beer. 

“You make a real good baby Meyers, Benjamin,” you whisper, and it's the first words you've spoken to him all night. Of course you knew, of course you’re the only one who guessed, and he wants to say something smart but he can’t, he’s riveted to the floor, melting under your soft gaze. You lift your arm, as if reaching for him and for a split second, he thinks you’re gonna run your fingers through his hair like you used to, and his heart does this lurching thing, like it simultaneously shrinks and explodes in his chest, and fuck him. He’s not over you yet.

(maybe I’m not over him either 👀)

Meanwhile… Meanwhile, Frankie's watching the whole scene from the kitchen. Ticking jaw, sucking on his teeth, vein popping in his neck. 

But what did Frankie dress up as, you ask. If you're still reading this, that is.

Frankie

Well, Frankie’s not exactly big on Halloween. For one, he grew up in a household full of ghosts. The candy sure was a perk, as a kid, but he’s always enjoyed savoury food more than sweets. Later, Izzy would let him tag along to the parties she went to (not that her mother left her much choice, anyway), and those were fun, admitedly. There was always alcohol, but most importantly, ✨girls✨ Girls who would never fail to find Izzy’s baby brother oh so cute with his soft curls and his golden skin and his lovely dimples and he’d spend the entire evening passing from one set of arms to another set of hands, which suited him juuuuust fine.

However, the man now has an actual body count, so he’s not too keen on the notion of the dead coming back to haunt the living for one night…

But thewhole thing makes you so damn happy. In the end, it doesn’t matter if he has to fend off an entire army of undead.

Unlike Pope, whatever your choice of outfit may be, he’ll get behind you. You wanna be Lydia Deetz? He’ll be your Beetlejuice. He’ll be the Gomez to your Morticia, the John Bartlett to your Patricia Bradley. 

This year, you announce most enthusiastically, you want to be Frankenstein’s Bride. 

Alright, baby!

And let's just say this: he makes it very, very difficult for you to be a good host to your guests. How on god’s wretched earth can he be this incredibly sexy as Frankenstein's creature??

Not only is he good with the kids, patient and gentle and cracking dad jokes with each group of little monsters and Elsas and cowboys eagerly standing on your doorstep, but that jacket… That damn jacket he got himself, three sizes too small, fuck, that poor jacket is working hard ALL NIGHT trying to contain his breadth, the seams just as strained around his shoulders as your poor clenching cu– 

Oh and you’ve no idea where he found that headband with the bolts on each side, but you don’t really care because he’s slicked black his hair and it's curling thick and luscious on his nape and you can’t wait for every one to get the hell out of your place. 

You’re gonna go down on him the minute the last guest leaves your house, take him down your throat and show him just how grateful to him you are for playing along so well. Watch that handsome, pretty, pretty face, that the green makeup and fake scars can't even spoil, go slack when you suck on his balls and swallow his spend. 

And you almost get to do it. If it wasn’t for that tiny little misstep. The sultry teasing words you pour into his neck, halfway through the party. When you tell him that what you truly wanted to dress up as was Margarita at the Midnight Ball. And Francisco’s eyes grow dangerously dark and wide and wild, pupils shot open with lust, because he knows what this means. And what this means is stark naked. 

And sure enough, he has barely closed the door behind the last guest that Frankie turns around and orders you to "Take off those fucking clothes. Now."

His tone brooks exactly zero argument. You comply at the speed of light before he shoves you onto the couch and kneels on the floor between your spread thighs, and it's very obvious, very fast, that you are his Halloween candy.

He keeps your ass balanced on the edge of the sofa and your back pressed into the soft cushions, thick fingers digging into the dips of your hips to hold you still with a welcome, bruising hold. 

His mouth feels like lava, liquid and hot as he licks into you like a starved man, broad sloppy stripes through your dripping folds, tongue dipping to feast on your slick like his sole purpose down there is to drink you dry. 

And when he wants more, because it’s never enough, he fastens his plush lips around your pulsating clit and plays it with the curled up tip of his tongue, two fingers hooked inside your cunt and pulling on that fucking spot with the same deftness with which he used to pull the trigger, and you give him more, give him everything he wants, you leak straight into his mouth, you’ve lost track of time somewhere after your third orgasm. 

There’s green makeup smeared all over your inner thighs, rivulets of black tears streaking your once ghostly pale cheeks. Sweat’s pooling in the small of your back and damp locks of hair are glued to your temples and forehead. 

You're a writhing mess, nearly slipping out of consciousness when he grabs your waist and flips you around, rough and urgent. 

With that easy strength that makes you light-headed, he pulls you downward, kneeling you down between his folded legs, your back flush to his chest, you’re moulded into him, and by the time you register the change in position, he’s already lining himself up. 

It’s no longer than a split second before he all but impales you on his length. It’s too sudden and the stretch downright painful, and you cry a strangled cry of his name but it's soundless, there’s no more air in your lungs, he’s fucked all the oxygen out of there. 

“How are you so fucking tight,” he says, his voice sounds strained, and he starts fucking up into you, absolute, merciless, the pace is punishing and you’ve gone blind with the stretch. 

It’s too fast, too deep, too fucking thick. Your spine goes stiff as a metal rod as you try to get away from it but you can’t, one hand is clutching your throat and his other arm’s banded around your waist. You’re helpless, nails digging into his flesh, crushed against his sweaty torso and he keeps sliding your rigid body down onto his impossibly thick cock at this impossibly fast pace, hips hammering your ass, lewd and loud, slap slap slap. 

And he knows, he feels you trying to recoil. The flat of his tongue licks up the column of your throat and it’s a sharp bite on your earlobe, and a low grunt in your ear, “I'm not gonna last long,” and you relent, you slump down into his hold and let him give you what he needs you to take. 

“Good girl”, he pants, and what do you know? You feel another one coming. 

Oh but this one’s deep and violent, it’s building tense and heavy into your core like a burning fist gripping your insides right behind your navel, and if it wasn’t for his own grunts, you’d hear the pathetic mewl you let out when it explodes in your breasts. 

The frantic clench and clutch of your cunt around his length is more than enough to tip him over. He rams his pulsating cock into you one last time before he starts to grind, so forceful his hipbones are biting into your ass, pushing further inside you to bury his come as far up your body as possible, up to your fucking cervix, sinking his teeth into your shoulder to muffle his rumbling growl. 

When he stills, finally, he doesn’t unwrap his arms. Doesn’t loosen his embrace. Instead, he draws your body with his when he slouches backward, his broad shoulders hitting the coffee table.

Limp, spent, blissfully used, you lay on top of him, his length sheathed inside your warmth, your chest heaving along with his chest. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out. 

He nuzzles the crown of your hair, gentle again. 

“Happy Halloween, baby.”

****

HAPPY HALLOWEEN ORANGE BESTIES!!! HAVE FUN WITH THE DEAD AND STAY SAFE 🎃💀🧡

[cats-of-eden-valley]

Your tags made me realize I didn't send an ask when I meant to. What Is the deal with Yarrow? Is he just a donor for one or both mollies? Is he cheating? Is it an open relationship?

OKAY SO

Morning Glory and Yarrow were together first. Yarrow was originally from Bogden, but he made all these vows and proclamations of love to Morning Glory, even agreeing to change his name and more or less join Goldspring to help her raise kittens, etc etc

Well, when said kittens, Cypress and Aster, are the equivalent of preteens, Morning Glory dies in battle and Yarrow just. Totally withdraws as a father figure. He was already distant with them (very clearly only here for Glory) but after she died it was like the girls stopped existing.

And who does he turn his sights on? Myrtle. (For reference, Myrtle and Hollyhock are the litter born the season before Cypress and Aster. She's the equivalent of like. 16/17 at this point. He's basically ogling the girls in his teenage daughters gym class.)

So the moment Myrtle becomes a full adult, they hook up. Very convenient, because Yarrow was being asked by the Matrons if he would be rejoining the Coalitions once Cypress and Aster were old enough. Well, now he's staying for his new mate.

Nobody Liked That.

Cypress and Aster are mad, Hollyhock is mad, basically the entire pride is mad, but Myrtle's an adult! She can do what she wants! No laws are broken, and the pair are left to do what they want.

Though by this point, the mask is starting to slip and Yarrow is reallyy showing his uglier side. He gets disavowed by his daughters, who want nothing to do with the litter he has with Myrtle. He kinda stops paying any mind to Myrtle in general, especially once he slides into retirement age and oh no law says you can't kick me out after so many years of committment :(:(:( guess i have to stay:(:(:(

Yarrow dies a year before the story during the bad drought year, but a lot of Goldspring wishes he'd gone a lot sooner lol

Unfortunately the damage is still done, Myrtle isn't liked by anyone in the pride, and her litter was only toms, who both leave for the coalitions. Only one of them comes home now.

[stitching-in-time]

Voyager rewatch s3 ep8: Future's End pt 1

Yay I'm so happy to get to this one! I love time travel stories, and this is so much fun. The weird thing is, I remember very well when this first aired, thinking it was so exciting to see a Star Trek crew in a modern setting, but looking at it now, I feel ancient, because it's a period piece now! It's 1990s a-go-go! I'm forcibly jolted back to watching this in middle school, and remembering my room full of Beanie Babies, listening to the Spice Girls, changing from my school backpack to a much cooler, tinier backpack to go with my friends to the mall, and talking to my one friend who watched Voyager about how cool this episode was, and what did we think would happen in the second part, and didn't the observatory girl from this episode have the cutest daisy belt?!

There's just so much silly, fun, fish-out-of-water comedy in this, it never fails to amuse me. Time paradoxes are great, and the blending of finding technology from the Federation's future in the past is clever, but honestly, this episode is about Starfleet characters interacting with 20th century pop culture. Janeway in her white Hilary Clinton-esque pantsuit! Neelix and Kes getting hooked on soap operas! (They are so bored on that ship, I swear they need some community theatre or orchestra or something like they had on the Enterprise to keep them all from going insane.) Tom being a nerd about history, and getting things adorably wrong! (Though I would argue that his use of 'groovy' was actually cool in '96, since all things 60s were experiencing a revival, and I distinctly remember my friends and I decorating a supply box at school with little flowers and peace signs and the words 'peace & love' and 'groovy'. Clearly, the Voyager writers had not caught up with tween girl slang, lol.) But actually, I love that Tom gets to impress a girl with actual science, rather than just hitting on her like a jerky dudebro. It's very sweet, I'm so proud! (And we learn he majored astrophysics at the Academy, which somehow surprised me- he has such strong 'just some guy' energy that sometimes it's easy to forget that he's actually smart!)

Tuvok and Tom being sent on an away mission together is such a great odd couple combo, Tuvok is basically babysitting the kid with adhd in that situation, and watching him attempt to keep his cool is also funny and adorable. I love how Janeway just enables Tom too- when she told him to do what he had to do to get to the observatory, it's like um. Captain. you know you just gave Tom permission to steal a car, right?? And then he totally does steal a car!! They are such chaos gremlins! Tuvok truly does not get paid enough to wrangle his crewmates. (Also, how does Tom know how to drive?! Sure, he's studied cars and all, and might understand the general idea, but like, how does he know what the actual road rules are?! Has he ever driven a car in an actual city before?? There's no road signs in space, he would have no idea what, say, a no turn on red sign means! And they're in LA traffic, no less! And why would Rain give him the keys to her van when they're being shot at?! They met ten minutes ago! She should have been driving!! And how does Tom know what a test drive is?? They don't have cars in the 24 century! Unless maybe they have shuttle dealerships?? Can you test drive a shuttle?? Are they like 'yeah, you can take it as far as Saturn to get a feel for how the impulse engines perform'? lmao I guess Tom's amazing driving skills are just one of those things we have to just go with!)

And Harry gets left in charge of the bridge!! Baby's first command!! When Janeway comes back and tells him he did a good job, his little smile is so sweet!! Dammit Harry, you're too cute!!

One of the few things I thought didn't work was having Janeway and Chakotay clutching their pearls over seeing people with mohawks and pink hair on the boardwalk. Really?? They're in Starfleet, they see actual alien species all the time! They literally have people who are straight up blue-skinned on their ship, do you think they'll be shocked by regular humans with dyed hair?! Are they seriously trying to tell us everyone dresses conservatively and wears beige in the 24th century? Please! Starfleet Headquarters and the Academy are both in California- don't tell me Californians aren't still weird in the future! They'd have seen people dressed like that before, c'mon.

But anyway, the villain being a self-centered, thieving corporate exec is still timely, and it's super funny seeing Voyager get caught on someone's camcorder flying over Los Angeles, they did a good job making those effects shots look authentic. There's just so much good stuff, I'm enjoying the hell out of this one, and excited for part 2!

Tl;dr: A fun, fast-paced fish-out-of-water time travel story, with lots of comedy and great character moments.

[lindszeppelin]

When your favourite actor start dating someone it’s normal to maybe become a fan of their partner (if they are a good singer or actor) but in the case of Kaia I never understood what could make you a fan of her, she is not really talented, she is beautiful so I guess they become a fan bc of her beauty ? Which is really shallow but well. I’m a fan of Austin since i was a teen and he was on Disney, I left the fandom for a while when he stopped acting and only came back around the Elvis era (more during the Oscar season) so I wasn’t there for the beginning of the relationship. But it was clear for me that it was temporary by the simple fact that they are too different from one another (it’s good to like different things from your partner but if you have nothing in common (or fake liking the same things) your relationship will never last). I think (again this is my opinion) that Austin was in a very bad mind set post-Elvis and was trying to relearn himself after not only the movie, but the rise in fame too. He hooked up with different people and then started dating Kaia and I do believe that when they broke up when he was filming bikeriders was when that relationship ended for real everything after that was acting along. I am not babying him but he himself has said that he was in a dark place and I feel he regained his confidence and his true self in the past year which you can tell by how flirty, happy and confident he is. I expect a breakup announcement in august/September im just hoping the hate will not be too big on him. Also I may be wrong but having worked with people like Tom Hardy who love spreading wisdom on acting and Hollywood may have helped him too (also working with Callum who I feel has become his brother the way they talk to each other) he was able to maybe feel very himself again-(im not talking about Kaia here) idk if I make sense, but it basically I wanna say that the shipper have stuck themselves in something that never was going to last anyway.

indeed, i second this so hard. he's coming back to his touchstone of who he knows he is. being in this sham of a relationship totally made him sink into a shell. i get that for sure. im glad that he seems to be radiating a bit more these days

[13eyond13]

28, 36, 44 if you haven't done them already?

28. How many books have you read so far this year?

I've read 60 books so far in 2024, though that number is made up mostly of manga volumes.

Here's exactly what I've read:

1-35: volumes 7-42 of Berserk by Kentaro Miura

36: volume 1 of Ouran High School Host Club by Bisco Hatori

37-41: volumes 1-5 of Devilman by Go Nagai

42: It Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover

43: volume 12 of Chainsaw Man by Tatsuki Fujimoto

44: volume 4 of Attack on Titan by Hajime Isayama

45: Something Wicked This Way Comes by Ray Bradbury

46-47: volumes 1-2 of Fruits Basket by Natsuki Takaya

48: volume 1 of One Punch Man by ONE

49: The Shadow Over Innsmouth by H.P. Lovecraft

50: The Dunwich Horror by H.P. Lovecraft

51: The Horror at Red Hook by H.P. Lovecraft

52: The Ballad of Black Tom by Victor LaValle

53: Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez

54: The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams

55: The Monkey's Paw by W.W. Jacobs

56: American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis

57: volume 1 of Vampeerz by Akili

58: volume 1 of Heartstopper by Alice Oseman

59: The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin

60: And Then She Fell by Alicia Elliott

36. Name a book you consider to be terribly overrated:

I've already ranted here before in the past about how much I really do not like Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury, and think that it's a bit silly and annoying and weird that it's so often considered one of the best books ever written: (X)

BUT OTHER THAN THAT I think that the Harry Potter series is, and always has been, a little overrated. It was a lot of fun to read and definitely deserves to be considered a classic of children's lit, but it just simply wasn't THAT good, omg... I thought this back in the heyday of it as well, the way people worshiped it and acted like it was literally the only books worth ever thinking about and reading really made me cringe after a while. I was basically exactly the right age for it all when it was first coming out too, and I enjoyed the books all once whenever they first came out and the movies once whenever they first came out, and then that was basically it! Never felt the need to get involved in the fandom or buy merch or re-watch the movies or anything. I just didn't feel like it was really deep enough to be acting as obsessive about it as so many people did, really? And I already felt like I had outgrown the books a bit by the time the series was coming to an end. Anyways, there's all the more reason not to go that apeshit over it nowadays with the insane bigotry that J.K. Rowling is so fond of spouting and supporting publicly as well.

44. Do you like to listen to music when you read?

I usually put on something like a YouTube video featuring fireplace or rain ambient noises, like so:

[bookish asks]

[cruelcasualties]

ABOUT VANCE | So casually cruel in the name of being honest.

CHARACTER BASICS

NAME: Elden "Vance" Aldridge

AGE: Thirty-One

GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cismale, He/Him

FACE CLAIM: Tom Blyth

EYE COLOR: Blue

HAIR COLOR: Blonde, dyed brown

HEIGHT: 6'0"

DATE OF BIRTH: September 7th, 1992

ZODIAC SIGN: Virgo

LEVEL OF EDUCATION: Bachelor's in Communications with a Minor in Advertisement

HOMETOWN: Great Bend, Kansas

RELIGIOUS AFFILIATION: Jewish

OCCUPATION: Journalist with Superbia

CHARACTER HISTORY

Vance thought finally understood the tales of angels and demons that his grandmother warned him of when he ventured off into the path of writing. It wasn't aimless and soul sucking like the jobs he carried before, but it surely devoured bits of his being as he poured his heart out for no one to even read them. He found his way following a photographer posing as a real journalist when he met an angel who defied the rumors of digital enhancement, who was breathtaking on all her own. It was then that he swore he understood everything the world had to offer, heart break included. He'd eventually get caught in his lie, but she'd stick around for a month, then two, then nine before she left the creation of their infatuation in his arms for him to care for.

For nearly two years, Vance followed his love across the globe chasing that feeling again. He swore she still loved him, but he rarely saw her. He was always one hotel off, one invitation wrong, one hour off before he could run into her again. All of the money he had went to chasing her, leaving nothing for their child. Unable to care for them, Vance gave them up when he returned home once and for all. He made some money detailing the corners of the fashion world he did linger and embed himself in to catch her again, finding a platform in the romanticism and distain he detailed back and forth. He found opportunity for his art, and eventually climbed his way to Superbia as a journalist that ate scandal like a snack and devoured the truth of it for lunch and dinner.

PRESENT DAY

It's been years since he's seen his former lover, and he feels even longer since he'd seen their child. One is splattered for the world to pick and prod across billboards and magazines, while the other lives in a photo tucked in a coat pocket he never puts on anymore. As far as he's concerned, that's another life but the guilt still eats at him. Vance devotes himself to the scandal, getting into the thick of it until he believes he's one of them with nothing to worry about but a starving body and a pretty smile, only to exploit their feelings beyond their appearances for another piece in Superbia. He doesn't care about those he hurts by falling in and out of love with them for a good source, let alone for a good story.

HEADCANONS

Vance has a subtle 1 star rating for notoriety simply because unless this world has a picture attached to it, no one remembers your name. When it comes to writing, his words stick to someone else's tongue and cause a murmur in crowds, but his name is easily forgotten.

He's known for writing pieces that praise the fashion industry in a way that's controversial. It makes you hate to love it, but still invigorates the reader's infatuation. However, he's no stranger to writing a scandal wrapped in a delivery that can be hard to swallow. He often lets the readers decide right and wrong, creating a tone that feeds into the murder the industry can get away with for simply being pretty.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

Co-workers

Former Roommate

People in the fashion industry who knew him for following around his ex, Azucena de la Rosa, when he was nothing and just journaling about his experiences on the road in the smack middle of the biggest fashion events

People who read his articles about the fashion world when he was nothing, and recognize his name on the tabloids now

People he "dated" and hooked up with in the fashion industry to get a good story and broke their hears, because he's here for a good time not a long time and likes to play a simp

Enemies

A good influence, and a particular bad influence

Someone who knows about how he gave his daughter up for adoption

[benjaminftw]

Journeyman Appreciation: Greg Sacks

Today’s driver appreciation is the first one I’ve done for primarily a Cup driver, but I thought that Greg Sacks was worthy. Coming out of the northeast modified scene that at that time was a rare stepping stone to the bigger series except for the likes of Geoff Bodine or the Bouchard Brothers, Greg won just about every big event you could win in a modified at that time before moving up into Cup for his family-owned team. 

After running 5 races in ‘83, he embarked on his first full-time season for the family team in 1984 where the basically unsponsored team suffered a number of mechanical issues but also had a number of top 20 runs when they got to the finish and top 10 finish at Bristol on their way to a pretty solid 19th place finish in points. Despite starting the year with a career best 6th in the Daytona 500 and a 13th and 10th in the following races, the family owned team shut down just 3 into season and Sacks was left to hop around which led to his most famous and infamous race, when DiGard entered a second research & development car at the July Daytona race with one of the most notorious cheaters (and later man in charge of catching cheaters) Gary Nelson as his crew chief, where he was bad fast leading over 30 laps to win his one and only Cup race. Famously, this was the race that made Bobby Allison quit DiGard Racing which was the ultimate downfall of a once dominant team, but not before Greg replaced Bobby in the car and collected a couple more top 10s. 

The next 4 seasons would see Greg running only part-time schedules for a variety of different teams including DiGard, the Dingman Brothers, Buddy Baker and Tom Winkle, collecting 6 top 10s along the way. It was in 1990 though that Greg got his best opportunity, hooking up with Hendrick Motorsports initially as one of the drivers for Days of Thunder, entering both Busch and Cup races in cars from the movie. This led to the opportunity to race for the short-lived third Hendrick team co-owned by Paul Newman with Slim Fast sponsorship, earning a pole and nearly winning at Talladega and earning the opportunity to fill in for an injured DW later in the season where he had yet another 2nd place finish, finishing the season with the most top 10 finishes (4) he’d had since that ‘85 year. However, the Slim Fast deal fell apart and soon did the Hendrick-Newman effort, leaving Greg with just a part-time effort in ‘91 before scoring his first full time ride in nearly a decade in 1992 for Larry Hedrick’s start-up effort though that was derailed by an injury, hooking on with Mark Smith part way through ‘93 and driving what would prove to be his last full-time season in 1994 for longtime independent DK Ulrich, finishing 31st in points but scoring 3 top 10s which would also prove the last of his Cup career.

That wasn’t the end of his career though. In 1995 alone he ran races for 4 different car owners, from ‘96 through ‘98 he was the go-to phone call for many teams who needed an injury or performance replacement for a few races or a research & development driver, and in ‘96 also continued to show what a great superspeedway racer he was by earning his lone Busch win for Diamond Ridge at Talladega. After going fairly quiet in the late 90s/early 00s Sacks returned around 03-04 in his early 50s to run a handful of lowbudget efforts in Cup down through ARCA, having a couple good ARCA runs and qualifying as a field filler for some Cup races. Finally, at the track which made his career, he effectively ended it in style getting a one off in good equipment in Xfinity at the age of 57 for JR Motorsports where he qualified 5th and finished 21st on the lead lap. 

Greg only twice ran a full season in any NASCAR season, despite being a winner he ended his career with only 3 finishes inside the top 5. However, when sometimes very good owners like Rick Hendrick and Felix Sabates let alone any number of smaller teams wanted a dependable driver who could give good feedback and bring the car home in one piece with pretty solid speed, Greg was often at the top of many rolodexes. He really strikes a prototypical figure as a journeyman, and for this I salute him.

[i-will-bite-your-face]

u have more than 2 aus??????

TELL ME TELL ME NOW PLZ I GOTTA KNOW I WANNA HEAR PLZ

WHAT AUS HAVE I TALKED ABT WHAT??? I DON'T REMEMBER HELPPPP.

Anyways SELKIE AU. pretty sure someone else has this but i dont remember (not trying to steal btw sorry if it came off like that)

jesus this is gonna be so long sorry

OK SO BASICALLY selkie au is just me randomly fixating on seals and trying to merge two things i liked together.

Its kinda focused on paupat bc i am WEAK. Heres the rundown

Patryck Hoste (Marine Biologist, his mom was a selkie but didn't pass the gene down, he has sharp(er) teefies tho, also he has to stay near the sea otherwise he gets sick ): 29,

Paul (selkie, bearded seal): 28, . Left eye damaged by a fishing hook. (The most PAUL CREATURE ever btw)

Matt (water nymph?): like 200 but 22 in “human years”

Edd (Selkie/shifter, his dad was a selkie his mom was a walrus person thing i dunno): 21, (the only one who had a semi solid design)

Tom (selkie, ribbon seal): 21. FUCKING LOOK AT THIS CREATURE!!!!!!

Tord(Selkie, harp seal): 20, his colony got attached by poachers (NOT COOL) and his mom was killed very sad :(

shitty quality sorry

was thinking baby tord was taken by the poachers and was eventually handed over to Pats marine place thingy and the biologists talk to him but only as if he was a seal (bc to them he is) and its rlly degrading to him and hes already a bit. fucked up. from the whole poacher thingy and basicly being an "exotic pet" so teehee hes goin inane. But then pat finds out hes a selkie and not Just An Animal. And saves him yippee!!

(an idea for a comic that i Never Got Around To)

Pats walking down a beach and he finds a coat folded on a rock, he's kinda annoyed that someone left their clothes on the beach bc mfs littering is becoming more n more of a problem. He picks it up and as he does he realizes Oh Shit. This is not just a coat. This is a fucking selkie pelt oh shit oh SHIT. as he's freaking out Paul (very nakey btw…) comes up behind him and ALSO starts freaking out bc thats HIS pelt and OH SHIT HES GONNA TAKE MY PELT N IM GONNA HAFTA MARRY HIM OR SMTH OH GODS FUCK SHIT well hes kinda cute.. FUCK SHIT NO and pat turns around to a very nakey paul and their both screaming at eachother and pat throws the pelt at paul who runs to the water n swims away and oh my gods what the fuck just happened. Fast forward a bit n pats takin another walk on the beach and he sees smth laying on the sand still kinda in the water and oh FUCK its a seal all wrapped up n fishing line and its very much cutting in to the poor things skin and the seal is passed out n… shit theres a fishing hook stuck in its (left) eye… Pat quickly pulls out his keys and uses them to cut the fishing line and as hes doing that the seal like semi-wakes up and looks at him and then suddenly theres a fuckin guy on his lap. Its the same selkie from the beach a lil while ago…

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

edd matt n tom are their own little colony (harem if you will...haha seal joke) and they live around this old abandoned dock near where pat lives. the 'comic' above has already happened so pau is kinda with them posing as a fisherman to keep the boys out of trouble. (babysit them really) and once pat saves tord they all become a happy family.

the end <3

[realhousewives-fan]

Iconic Moments of RH 2023

A year has gone by and while we can say that there’s not much in the world to be optimistic about lately, it was a great year for Bravo at least.

After years of struggling with weak seasons and poor ratings, it looks like a lot of shows has turned the page.

If it weren’t for Bethenny Frankel’s Reality Reckoning pursuit, I would argue that it has been a very successful year for Bravo and Andy Cohen.

1. Scandoval

This list is actually reserved for Real Housewives, but how could I not include the biggest scandal and the biggest show of 2023?

Scandoval was the cursed gift that kept on giving with an incredible mountain of shocking details and lies. 

Tom Sandoval and Raquel Leviss became the most hated persons on social media, while Ariana Madix rose to stardom with a movie role and DWTS.

The last episode of the season gave me goosebumps, made me furious, made me emotional. It was an amazing end of a rollercoaster of a season.

2. “YOU. CAN. LEAVE!”

RHOSLC had one of the best seasons ever this year, and their trip to Palm Springs was one of the funniest episodes I’ve ever seen.

When Meredith Marks has reached her melting point, she’s done! 

Her delivery of “YOU. CAN. LEAVE!” will remain as one of the most iconic moments of RHOSLC.

3. Fuck Cancer Opera Night

Julia Lemigova’s surprise for Martina Navratilova was so entertaining, funny, and touching to me.

She wanted to surprise Martina with singing her favourite opera song for her, and Julia couldn’t sing. Her scheme become more and more elaborate as more people wanted to be a part of her surprise.

And that it was a party where they said “Fuck Cancer” was so emotional for me.

4. The RHONY Reboot Was a Success!

It wasn’t written in the cards that RHONY would survive a reboot. I don’t think people had much faith that they would make it, especially since they lost Lizzy Savetsky in the middle of filming.

But against all odds the new housewives were able to show us originality, entertainment, and excitement. Bravo’s gamble seemed to pay off!

Especially Brynn Whitfield, Jenna Lyons and Jessel Taank stood out as fan favourites, which is incredible for a basically brand-new show.

5. Mary’s Phone Call to Trixie Motel

The trip to Palm Springs was a trip even before they had left Salt Lake City.

Mary Cosby’s phone call to Trixie Motel to check what kind of wine and food they had there, cracked me up! Her facial expressions are out of this world!

6. Tribeca is Up and Coming, Right?

While I was entertained by the first episodes of the RHONY reboot, it wasn’t before the lunch with Jessel and Erin Lichy that I was hooked on Jessel.

Their lunch quickly became a classic Housewives scene. 

Jessel is the type of person who says whatever comes to her mind, and that means that she can easily offend others.

When Jessel said that the neighbourhood was up and coming, to Erin’s outrage, I knew that I was going to love her.

7. The Shrine of it All

As Potomac got themselves a new housewife named Nneka Ihim, I wasn’t completely excited.

She was introduced as Ashley Darby’s friend, and I thought: “Oh no, here we go again. Which character from Sesame Street will we get this time?”

But then Nneka had a very interesting lunch with Robyn Dixon, about Wendy Osefo and allegedly how her family had tried to prevent her from joining the show!

8. Name ‘Em!

Sutton Stracke is in rare form this season of RHOBH.

When Kyle Richards rightfully said that Sutton has lost her shit multiple times on the show, Sutton was so childish and rude with her taunting. 

“Name ‘em, name ‘em, name ‘em…” I understand why Kyle lost her temper in that moment. Sutton wanted to provoke Kyle.

9. Luis Ruelas and Bo Dietl

At the very toxic and negative reunion of RHONJ it was revealed that someone had hired a private investigator on the women, and Luis Ruelas had said that he was “good friends” with Bo Dietl.

Cue a bunch of strange phone calls to the family members of the housewives. And I believe that Luis is the root of the problems.

10. Shannon’s Hit and Run DUI

Season 17 of RHOC was one the better seasons, and in many ways, it was the unravelling of Shannon Beador’s relationship with John Janssen.

It was mentioned multiple times that Shannon might have a drinking problem, which she denied time and time again.

But after their reunion was filmed, Shannon had a dramatic hit and run DUI, to which she was sentenced to 3 years of probation and 40 hours of community service for.

[wool-and-wanderlust]

July 10: The last few days have been cold and wet (50-60F?), but still having a great time, especially when I remembered my waterproof trousers. On Monday, I got to the farm early to help load the sheep to take them to market. Tom and I took about 80 sheep in a trailer pulled by the tractor which took about an hour in both directions. The tractor is newer and has suspension, but the cab was still very bouncy. Almost wished I'd taken motion sickness medicine...! We were one of those vehicles you don't really want to meet when in either direction when driving down a country lane. When we got to the market, there were hundreds of sheep there in small pens that held about 10 sheep each. We guided ours to our assigned pens and then had to sort them by breed and size which involved a lot of opening of gates and chasing down sheep going the wrong way. When we finished that, we went to the auction cafe (think church fellowship hall vibes) which was full of English and Welsh farmers. I was the only woman. Some of them were having tea/coffee, but others were having a full English breakfast. I'm told sometimes at market there's a hairdresser as well so farmers can get their haircut while they wait. :) After having tea, we watched the cattle auction. They sell the animals by British pounds per kilo. I couldn't quite follow the pricing. Those bidding would stand in the very front and to signal their bid would supposedly lift a finger/eyebrow, but I never caught it. It was incredibly subtle. Then we watched some of the prime lambs being sold. They were making about 100 British pounds each, while a lean ewe might be sold for more like 30 or 40. Then we had another cup of tea before making the journey back to the farm in the tractor.

Had lunch when we got back, and then needed to tag some heifers before they were put out to pasture with the bull. We had to name them 3-letter names that begin with R (because they can tell how old the animals are based on the first letter of their name). It was more difficult to come up with them than you might think. We went with Roe, Rox, Rob, Ros, Red, Rae, Red, Rye, and Ria. To tag them, the cows were moved through a chute that doesn't allow them to turn around, and then a contraption braces their head so they can't thrash around while you're trying to tag their ear. But they were standing in a lot of rancid poop water, so every time they did stomp around, we got splashed with that. Tom looked at me and said "you've got shit on your nose." We all did. While all of this was happening, their bull was going crazy in the pen wanting to get at the heifers. We moved them all down to another pasture and left them to it...! By the end of this day, I was drenched.

July 11: First thing when I got to the farm today, Brian, Tom and I took the ATV down to the cow pasture to find a calf that had been born a few dais prior. It needed tagging but we couldn't find it the last few times we went down to look for it. We found it pretty early on this time, but catching it was another story. Brian drove the ATV again while Tom was standing on the passenger side, left hand hanging on to the ATV, right arm outstretched with a hook, trying to catch the calf's leg. I sat in the middle bracing myself between my feet on the floor and my back against the seat and trying not to fall out of the vehicle. Calves can run fast even after a few days, so he was basically flooring it on the ATV doing donuts around the field while Tom tried to catch it. We eventually did, but it took some effort! After all that, it was time for a tea break.

We had beans on toast for lunch, and then headed out in the rain to gather in about 200 more lambs. Biggest thrill of the day was that Brian let me drive the ATV across the fields to gather them. We moved them with the dogs through 3 or 4 different fields to get them back to the barn.

Once back at the barn, the sheep needed to be drenched (given oral medication) for worms. The medication was in a backpack with a long tube with a syringe on the end. One farmer would typically hold the sheep with his legs (harder than it looks to keep them still) and use two fingers to force their mouth open, and use the other hand to administer the medicine. But Tom was kind enough to let me help out, so he held the sheep while I administered the medication. I wasn't the best at it...he kept saying these sheep have never been treated so nicely, but I don't think that was a compliment because the medicine wasn't always going all the way down their throat. I had to redo quite a few of them. It was pouring with rain the whole time. I love rain, and being under a barn while it's raining is the best feeling. When we finished, we moved sheep back down the road to the fields. Beautiful here, even in the rain :)

[mayhemproduces]

ATLAS WAR CHAMBER FINALE

Tom Lawlor is officially active, and with Syn and Lilith Brookes laying on top of him, we have an official pinning situation here!

1….2… Kickout!

Tom Lawlor has the wherewithal to get his shoulder up just in time, but we almost had a guaranteed new champion here in the War Chamber! 

Back in the ring, Atticus and Wes had gotten back to their feet, and began to exchange right hands back and forth with one another, trying to get an advantage over the other one. Wes manages to catch Atticus with a particularly hard right hand, that spins Atticus around right in time to see VIOLET take to the sky with a Springboard, Atticus moving out of the way, and allowing Wes to be caught instead with a Springboard Missile dropkick! Wes is sent flying across the ring, and VIOLET is quickly back to her feet, spinning around to go after Atticus, before taking him down with a spinning leg lariat! Atticus is down, and VIOLET takes a couple steps back, before charging, twisting in mid air, and crashing down on Atticus with the Divine Touch! Atticus’ legs are hooked, VIOLET trying to eliminate him!

1….2… Kickout!

Atticus out at two! VIOLET slams the mat in frustration, and looks over at Wes Barkley, getting up and trying to charge him, but Wes catches her in a roll up, and puts his feet up on the ropes for leverage as the ref counts! 

1…2… kickout! 

VIOLET just barely getting the shoulder up there! Both competitors get back to their feet, and as VIOLET tries to come at Wes again, Wes catches her with a boot to the face. VIOLET stumbled back, but Wes is neck accosted by Atticus, who clotheslines Wes over the ropes and down onto the steel floor on the outside of the ring. Wes lands hand, and Atticus follows him out, with VIOLET following behind. Atticus tries to pick Wes up, and get him up for what looks to be a suplex, but before he can, VIOLET quickly scales the cage, before turning and throwing herself down on both Wes and Atticus with a cross body! All three take a hard fall down onto the steel! 

All six competitors in the War Chamber are down, but stirring, as each of them all seem to have the same idea, all six crawling for the steel chair that lay closest to them, trying to get a weapon in their hands. All six of them manage to grab a chair, and get back to their feet, when all six of them meet in the center of the ring. Noticing that each of them all seemed to have the same idea as each other, the six elect not to start swinging, but rather, all six of them set up their chairs in a circle, and take a seat, pulling them close together until they’re basically knee to knee with one another. The six stare each other down, before it’s Syn who makes the first move, popping Lilith right in the jaw! Lilith grabs for her jaw and rubs it out, shaking off the punch, before turning and blasting Atticus with one of her own! Atticus then responds by nailing VIOLET with a forearm, who then turns and catches Tom Lawlor with a right hand! Tom answers by punching Wes Barkley, and Wes turns and connects with Syn, as we have ourselves a full circular bar fight breaking out here! In a circle they go, all taking turns punching the person sitting to their left, in clockwise fashion, throwing hands just about as hard as they can, before Syn is the first one to decide he’s had enough, grabbing his chair out from under him, and cracking it over VIOLET’s skull! VIOLET falls back out of her chair, and Syn is immediately grabbed from behind, and locked into a sleeper by Tom Lawlor, but Syn breaks out of it with a quick back elbow! VIOLET then catches Syn with a boot of her own, sending Syn stumbling into the ropes, but then VIOLET is quickly taken down by a running Bicycle Knee from Atticus! Atticus turns just in time to get cut in half with a spear from Syn! Before Syn can get up and attack anyone else though, Lawlor has his arms around Syn’s waist, and he throws the Poisoned Prince overhead with a HUGE German Suplex! 

Tom Lawlor turns around and gets up just in time to be blasted with a rolling Coppu Kick from Lilith Brookes, who gets up and turns around just in time to see the Rolling Lariat coming from Barkley, but Lilith manages to duck and catch Barkley up on her shoulders! Lilith’s looking for the Killing Spree, but Wes manages to slip off her shoulders! Wes goes for a clothesline, but Lilith goes low, and catches Wes Barkley with a low blow! A move that was so effective for her all throughout her MPW World Title reign, Lilith blasts Wes right in the beanbag! 

As Wes drops to his knees, Lilith’s eyes move over to where the chair is set up, as evil intentions start brewing in her mind. Lilith grins and grabs Wes, hooking his arms, looking like she’s going to attempt a Cinci Driver onto the seat of the chair, but before she can lift Wes, Wes spins out, grabs Lilith, and drives her down, face first onto the seat of the chair with The Stroke! Lilith eats the chair! 

Wes gets back up to his feet, and at this point, Barkley Nation can be heard loud and clear here at Globe Theater, chanting for their guy! 

“TWO STEPS AHEAD! TWO STEPS AHEAD! TWO STEPS AHEAD!” 

Wes hears them, nodding along, feeding off the energy, as Wes Barkley grabs the steel trashcan from earlier, and places it across Lilith’s lifeless form, before Wes elects to go up top. Wes starts climbing to the top rope, when Wes gets an even worse idea once he’s already up there. Wes turns and starts climbing up ontop of one of the pods! Wes Barkley is impossibly high up in the air, and our fans are on their feet, some of whom begging Wes not to, but he’s not gonna back down now! 

WES BARKLEY JUMPS FROM THE TOP OF THE POD, CRASHING DOWN ON LILITH BROOKES WITH A FROG SPLASH! HOLY SHIT!

Wes Barkley lays motionless after such a massive dive, but he’s laying right on top of Lilith!

1….2….3!

“Lilith Brookes has been eliminated!”

Lilith Brookes, the former world champion, who betrayed her friend Sami Callihan just to get into this match, is our first person out tonight. Down to five, with Wes Barkley struggling to get back to his feet, clutching his ribs, maybe having just crushed them with that huge dive. Barkley is practically a sitting duck, and Syn smells blood in the water, Kicking Barkley in the gut, hooking his arms, and driving Wes Barkley’s head into the mat with Neurotoxin! Syn folds Wes up, looking to end his night!

1….2….3!

“Wes Barkley has been eliminated” 

Wes’ heroic dive from the top of the pod ends up costing him the match, as Syn, ever the opportunist, uses the chance to strike, and narrow our field tonight down to four. Tom Lawlor, Syn, Atticus Cogar, and VIOLET remain. One of these four would leave this cage tonight the MPW Atlas Champion. 

As Syn gets up to his feet, he’s quickly accosted from behind by Tom Lawlor, who traps him in a Sleeper, and we might have another rapid elimination here! Tom Lawlor is trying to choke Syn out, just like how Masha Slamovich almost choked Syn out last night at Spring Break! Syn struggles as Tom continues to press down on his wind pipe, but Syn manages to throw Tom off him with a snapmare, and falls back into the ropes, trying to regain himself. Tom gets back up, and continues to go after Syn, blasting him in the chest with a stiff kick! Syn is knocked between the ropes, and falling to the floor, clutching at his chest. Tom Lawlor turns around, just to be accosted by Atticus Cogar, laying into the champion with a couple of stiff, punishing forearms! Atticus gets a couple more in, before turning to hit the ropes, charging back at Lawlor, but Lawlor slips behind him, and sends him overhead with a HUGE German Suplex! Atticus rolls through and drops flat on his face, as Atticus just got dumped on his head! Atticus just got turned inside out! 

Tom Lawlor gets back to his feet, just in time to catch VIOLET with a stiff, stiff forearm right to the jaw, dropping VIOLET to her knees. Tom then slips behind her, and grabs both of VIOLET’s arms, trapping her in a straight jacket, before Tom DRILLS VIOLET in the back of the head with a brutal-looking knee! VIOLET might be unconscious! Tom Lawlor looks to finish VIOLET off, lifting her up onto his shoulder, setting up for the Tombstone, looking to put VIOLET down for good… 

When VIOLET slips off Tom’s shoulder! Tom turns around, trying to recover VIOLET…

END OF EVERYTHING! VIOLET catches Tom Lawlor right on the jaw! VIOLET kicks the Champ’s head off, and folds him up, looking to eliminate Tom Lawlor!

1…..2… KICKOUT!

Tom Lawlor kicks out of the End of Everything! VIOLET can’t believe it, we were a half a second away from being down to three, and being guaranteed a new champion here tonight! VIOLET pulls herself up to her knees, absolutely beside herself. She needs to keep the momentum going, though, and she knows it. VIOLET looks over as Tom Lawlor crawls for the corner, trying to recover, and gets back to her feet. As she goes to grab Tom, she hears footsteps behind her, and turns around just in time to catch Atticus with a hip toss, dropping Atticus right down on top of Tom! VIOLET then charges across the ring, hits the turnbuckle, and with a full head of steam, crashes into both men with a brutal-looking hip attack! Both men are knocked for a loop, and VIOLET looks to be setting up for another hip attack…

When she’s cut in half by a spear from Syn! Syn may have just broken VIOLET in half! VIOLET goes head over heels, and Syn wastes no time, grabbing VIOLET and stacking her on top of Tom Lawlor and Atticus Cogar in the corner of the ring, before Syn starts piling plunder on the three of them, covering them with chairs, doors, and various other weapons that had come out during this match, before Syn approaches an adjacent top rope, and climbs up to the top rope, Syn setting his feet, looking at his prey, before leaping off, flipping, and CRUSHING VIOLET, Atticus, and Tom Lawlor with a Front-Flip Van Terminator! Syn grabs the first leg he gets ahold of, and it’s VIOLET, dragging her out of the plunder pile, and folding her up for a pin!

1….2…3!

“VIOLET has been eliminated!” 

Syn had take VIOLET out, and made himself $25,000 richer in the process, claiming MJF’s bounty, and putting himself another step closer to winning the MPW Atlas Championship tonight. And his other two opponents are currently down, and unresponsive. Syn could probably try to pin another one, but Syn seems to have other ideas in mind. Syn steps out of the ring, and grabs the barbed wire board Lilith introduced to the match earlier, and slides it into the ring, apparently thinking it’s going to serve him well going forward. Syn turns back to his opponents, and drags Atticus out of the corner next, hoisting Atticus up onto his shoulders, looking to set up a Death Valley, but Atticus manages to slip away. Atticus nails Syn in the back with a forearm, and as Tom gets up and tries to grab Atticus from behind, but Atticus nails him with a back elbow. Atticus turns to continue to lay into Tom, but Syn grabs Atticus’ arms, trapping him, before Tom blasts him with a stiff, stiff kick to the chest! Atticus drops, clutching his chest in agony, and Tom puts a hand up, trying to high five Syn for the double team, but Syn has other ideas as he spins, and crushes Lawlor with a Big Rig Clothesline! Syn drops down and hooks the leg, trying to take out Lawlor!

1….2… Kickout!

Lawlor out at two, holding onto his championship for the time being. Syn gets back to his feet, and starts gathering chairs, setting two of them up, and then dragging the barbed wire board across it. Syn’s got some bad intentions in mind, as he goes back over and drags Atticus back onto his shoulders, before Syn starts climbing up the turnbuckle. With Atticus set up for a Death Valley Driver, it looks like Syn’s gonna try to put him through the barbed wire board, trying to take Atticus out of the equation as well, when Atticus starts wiggling. Syn tries to keep Atticus on his shoulders, but Atticus tries to nail Syn with a couple of elbows to escape. Atticus manages to land on the ropes next to Syn, and the two men begin trading right hands back and forth, trying to get the advantage on one another, this exchange perhaps might win either man the match in the long run. Syn and Atticus, back and forth, trading shots, their title hopes hanging in the balance. Syn tries to go for Atticus’ eyes, but Atticus blocks, and nails Syn with a headbutt! Syn goes a little wobbly, and Atticus takes his chance, hooking Syn’s head… 

BEFORE GOING OFF THE TOP ROPE WITH SYN, PUTTING HIM THROUGH THE BARBED WIRE BOARD WITH A HEADLOCK DRIVER! 

Syn explodes through the board, and Atticus hooks both of his legs, looking to take out the Poisoned Prince! 

1….2…3!

“Syn has been Eliminated!” 

And just like that, six becomes two, and we are down to Atticus Cogar, and the MPW Atlas Champion, Tom Lawlor. One of these men will be leaving the War Chamber the MPW Atlas Champion. It all comes down to this… 

Tom Lawlor is already on his feet, trying to grab Atticus, and tries to plant Atticus with a back suplex, but Atticus flips over and lands on his feet, spins Tom around, and then blasts him in the chest with a straight right hand to the breadbasket. Tom hunches over in pain, before Atticus grabs him and tosses him down into a seated position, and then slides in front of Tom, looking for the double stomp, but Tom quickly gets up and instead blasts Atticus with a lariat, knocking him into the corner!

Tom traps Atticus in the corner, using the ropes to hold his arms, before rearing back and laying into Atticus with a brutal chop to the chest. Atticus stumbles out of the corner, and into another one, where Tom once again traps him, wraps his arms up in the ropes, and, telling the crowd to quiet down so they could hear it, once again, Tom blasts Atticus with a chop to the chest. Tom then stands Atticus up, and begins blasting him with a series of corner clotheslines, all designed to wear down Atticus, and beat him into submission. Tom then walks across the ring, before he charges in on Atticus, crashing into him with a huge leaping back elbow, before pulling Atticus out of the corner, faking out whipping him across the ring, and then throwing Atticus overhead, sending Atticus crashing right back into the turnbuckles! Tom Lawlor was now in firm control of this one, going back over to Atticus and lifting him up by the waist, before lifting Atticus up, and driving Atticus’s head and neck into the mat with a German suplex, bridging over for the cover!

1….2… Kickout!

Atticus kicks out at two, surviving Tom’s attempt to win the match. Tom gets back to his feet and once again wraps his arms around Atticus’s waist, but a stomp to Tom’s foot, followed by Atticus clipping Tom’s elbows, allows Atticus enough room to drop down, use his legs to hook Tom’s arms, and roll Tom forward into a cover!

1…2…. Kickout!

Lawlor escapes and gets back to his feet, as Atticus grabs him and runs for the ropes, leaping up them, wrapping his leg’s around Tom’s head, tossing Tom across the ring with a huge springboard hurricanrana!. Tom is flung across the ring, and quickly tries to get back to his feet, putting his hand on the rope to steady himself, but that’s exactly what Atticus wants as he springs to the top and leaps off, delivering a HUGE double stomp to Tom’s exposed arm! Tom stumbles away, clutching at his arm, as Atticus gets back up, measures Tom, and charges him, going for a Tilt-A-Whirl Octopus Stretch, looking to put Tom away, but Tom catches Atticus at the top of the Tilt-A-Whirl, and has him set up for the over the shoulder Tombstone! Atticus manages to wiggle out of it, though, and plants Lawlor with a DDT! The impact of the DDT sits Tom up, and Atticus quickly slides in front of Tom, before leaping up, and crushing Tom with a massive double stomp! Atticus hooks the leg, trying to put Tom Lawlor away!

1….2…. Kickout!

Atticus sits up, and as Lawlor starts crawling for the ropes, and Atticus starts reaching into his pocket. Everyone in LA knows exactly what Atticus Cogar is digging for, and the crowd goes wild as a handful of skewers comes out of Atticus’ pocket, and Lawlor doesn’t know what’s coming! Suddenly, Atticus traps Tom against the ropes, before he starts to pound the skewers into Tom Lawlor’s head! 

Tom Lawlor screams in agony, but as this is going on, suddenly, down the ramp charges Dominic Garrini, Kevin Ku, and Jackson Stone, Team Filthy, and they’ve brought bolt cutters! Stone and Ku shove the referees aside, and Dom gets to work cutting the chain, cutting the chain off the door, before Team Filthy throws the door open, and charges into the ring, Dominic Garrini getting there first and throwing Atticus overhead with a huge German Suplex! Atticus rolls back to his feet on impact, before Dom & Ku charge Atticus and CRUSH him with a Total Elimination! Atticus is high-lowed by Team Filthy! 

Kevin Ku then scoops up Atticus, lifting him in the air for a Brainbuster, and Dominic Garrini adds a head kick, as they plant Atticus with Chasing the Dragon! Jackson Stone had been helping Tom remove the skewers from his head, and Tom practically falls on top of Atticus Cogar, hooking the leg, looking to retain!

1…..2…. KICKOUT!

Atticus Cogar survives Violence is Forever’s tag finish! Atticus Cogar is still going, but it admittedly looks bleak with all four members of Team Filthy having isolated him in the cage. Tom Lawlor, who’s clearly upset it’s taken so long, hoists Atticus onto his shoulder, as Jackson Stone sets up a chair, before Tom charges it, and drops Atticus on the chair head first with the Tombstone! This crowd can do nothing but boo, some members of our audience beginning to throw garbage at the cage, as Tom Lawlor flips them off, covering Atticus Cogar. 

1…..2….3!

“Here is your winner, and STILL MPW Atlas Champion, Filthy Tom Lawlor!” 

No one thought it possible going in, but Filthy Tom Lawlor, with the help of Team Filthy, has beaten the odds, and beaten the five psychopaths put in his way, and he is STILL your MPW Atlas Champion. This crowd isn’t happy, I wouldn’t imagine our fans anywhere are very happy, and Paul Heyman certainly isn’t happy. But Team Filthy has once again found a way to keep the Atlas Championship under their control! 

That’s the end of MPW taking over Mania weekend, we’ll be back on the road next week. Goodnight, everybody! 

[topguncortez]

Dash- T. Kazansky

pairing: Tom 'Iceman' Kazansky x female!Kerner (call sign: Dash) word count: 3.8k warnings: top gun shit, misogyny, cannon character death. from this request

thank you for @imjess-themess for beta reading!:)

“Ice, it’s Dash. There’s been an accident.” 

The words were ringing around in her head since they had left Chipper’s mouth all of five minutes ago. Everyone here knew that accidents were possible, things happen, mistakes happen. They spent their day flying at top speeds, dancing in the sky trying to fight one another for the first place trophy. Dash Kerner was sitting in third, behind Goose and Maverick, and her brother and Iceman. But now, the sinking feeling in her stomach was telling her she was about to move up, and by default. 

Dash, aka Y/N Kerner was Slider’s younger sister, only by two years. Even though Ron knew that, he still acted like there was a ten year age gap between the two of them. He made it known that she was his little sister, always introducing her as such. Even when she graduated from the academy, and got her wings she was still introduced as: “This is my baby sister, Dash.” It was Ron’s way of trying to ward off unwanted eyes from his fellow pilots, which he thought he had succeeded, but boy was he wrong. Ron thought he had to worry about the careless and reckless Pete Mitchell, and didn’t even think to look much closer. 

Tom Kazansky had fallen in love with Y/N the moment she opened her mouth and told Maverick off at the O Club. Maverick had tried his usual advances, trying to smooth talk the civilian looking woman into believing he was some hotshot pilot (which he was, but Ice wasn’t going to admit that to his face), and Y/N was just eating it up. Pete thought he had hooked the line, until she asked him a basic question. 

“So, do you usually go after mig-28s in a negative 4 G nose dive? Or were you just trying to prove how big your dick is?” 

It had spent Pete spiraling, as she grabbed the beer from his hand, and walked over to where Slider and Ice were trying not to burst out laughing. Pete watched her walk over there, and cursed himself as Slider threw his arm around his little sister. He couldn’t hide the look on his face as Goose appeared, and looked at the same scene. 

“Oh no, no, Mav, I know you did not try to get with Dash?” Goose groaned. 

“I didn’t know she was Slider’s sister!” 

Ice knew from that moment on that she could handle herself, he always knew that. Ice had felt a sort of protectiveness over Y/N, not just because she was his RIO’s little sister, but because he loved her. She was also the only female in a room full of jacked up caffeine fueled cocky pilots, who had been told all their career they were the best. Y/N had had her fair share of dealing with men like this, she grew up in a household where Slider was on a pedestal, and she was climbing for an ounce of attention. Unlike the others in her class, she was not told she was the best. She was often overlooked, and it made her work harder than anyone else. 

And having to have to work harder, also made her reckless sometimes, which was one thing Tom couldn’t stand about her. She wasn’t like Maverick, not in the slightest, but sometimes she did maneuvers or moves that weren’t entirely othrodox, but it also made her a challenge to try and shoot down. She liked to keep everyone on their toes, especially Slider, who had gotten after her after one of her more dangerous dogfights. 

“It wasn’t even that big of a deal!” Dash yelled, as she took her helmet off, chasing after her brother. She had just come down out of the air with Hollywood and Wolfman, after successfully taking down both Viper and Jester. 

“That big of a deal?!” Slider stopped in his tracks and turned around to face her, “You could’ve gotten yourself killed! What the hell was that?!” 

“That?! That was me getting a win. That was me proving that I am good and can get both Viper and Jester.” 

“Leaving your wingman, doing some outlaw shit, god you’re flying like Maverick!” 

“I’m flying better than Maverick!” 

“No you’re flying unsafe!” 

“Oh get a new fucking line, Ron, and quit stealing shit from Ice.” 

“Quit trying to be like Maverick..” 

Y/N scoffed and brushed past him, purposely knocking her shoulder into his. Ron clenched his jaw, his mind telling him to turn around and apologize, knowing how much his little sister hated that people insinuated she was one to trade favors to get ahead. He did turn his head, when he felt someone clap him on the back. 

“Way to go Slider,” Maverick smirked, and walked off towards the locker rooms. 

Ice had been drawing up his next flight plan when Dash came into the room, throwing her helmet down on the table and letting out a frustrated groan. He had heard over comms that her hop went well, she was the only pilot to get both Jester and Viper in one dog fight, probably bumping her up into second. She should be happy, celebrating, taking a shower to relieve the tension in her shoulders, but instead she was taking deep breaths to calm her down. 

“Wanna talk about it?” Ice said, and Y/N snapped her head up, now seeing the blonde pilot, “Or not.” 

“You don’t talk about feelings Ice, you’re ice cold for a reason,” Dash said, shaking her head. 

“Well, when it looks like its really messing with someone then I might,” Ice said, standing up from his spot and walking over to her. He leaned against the table she was standing at, “What’s up? Heard you got both Viper and Jester.” 

“I did, and I should be happy, but I’m fucking pissed off,” Y/N groaned, running her hand down her face, “Why do you think I’m here?” 

“Cause you’re the best-” 

“No, none of that shit. Pretend you don’t know me, that I’m not your RIO’s little sister, that I’m not Captain Kerner’s daughter, I’m just some other female pilot. How do you think I would’ve gotten here? Or to the rank I am?” 

Ice sighed and shifted in his spot, “I wouldn’t think any less of you, if that’s what you’re trying to say. Whether you are Captain Kerner’s daughter, or the daughter of some junkie, you are the person you chose to become, and that was a good pilot. You’re smart, level headed, a little reckless-” Dash laughed at that, “But if I was in a dogfight, I would want you as my wingman. I trust you, Dash, and that’s saying something, cause I don’t trust a lot of people in the sky, but you’re one of them.” 

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better are you?” 

“No,” Tom shook his head, “I’m saying it because it’s true.” 

“Thank you, Tom,” Dash said, and wrapped her arms around his midsection. Ice stiffened at the feeling at first, but quickly melted into it, pulling her in tightly. She was significantly shorter than he was, so he rested his chin on the top of her head, and took a deep breath, trying to freeze the moment for as long as he could. Sadly, it ended far too early for either one. Dash gave Tom a shy smile, as she picked up her helmet and walked towards her locker room. 

Tom had a smile on his face as he returned to his spot and worked on his flight plan, and Dash couldn’t help the blush on her face as she walked into the locker room. 

After that day, neither one seemed to hide the mutual pining for each other. Wherever Ice went, Slider and Dash were sure to follow. Ice had spent less time at the O Club, flirting with women and more time in the classroom after hours with Dash, working on flight plans or talking about their dogfights or talking about some random topic like baseball. Tom had fallen in deeper love for the girl, watching as she would close her eyes and tip her head back when she laughed, or when she’d sass back to one of their fellow pilots. 

And Y/N had fallen for Tom. It was the way that he was a dick to everyone, but her. He also cut back on digging at Maverick, much to her request. He would listen attentively when she was up in the air, holding his breath as she did some maneuver, or she’d go silent on comms. Slider had even caught up on the way his pilot would turn all smiley whenever Dash would walk into the room, or the way his hand would brush her hand or the small of her back. Slider even noticed that lovesick goofy look in his little sister’s eye, one that she only seemed to get when she’d see a picture of Nikki Sixx. 

“Do you like Ice?” Slider asked her, as they were taking a break during their volleyball game. Her eyes had barely left Ice’s sweaty, tan torso, and Ice could hardly look away from her perfect tan legs. 

“What? What kind of stupid questioin is that?” 

“So, him talking to that brunette over there isn’t making you jealous?” Dash looked over her brother’s shoulder just as some brunette in a skimpy cheetah print two piece put her hand on Ice’s bicep. Dash gave her brother a tightlipped smile and shook her head, “Good thing you’re a good pilot, cause you’re such a shitty liar.” Ron laughed. Dash scoffed and hit his shoulder, “Hey! I’m just saying. You’re the one all googly eyed over him.” 

“I am not!” Dash groaned and rolled her eyes, “I thought we moved past this stage in our sibling-ship.” 

“Never, littler sister,” Ron teased, “I will always make fun of you and your school girl crushes,” He took another sip of his water, before handing the bottle back to Y/N, “Try not to drool.” 

“I hope you get hit in the head,” Dash teased and pushed her brother away back onto the court. Ice looked over at her and sent her a nod of his head. She smiled at him, and Ron saw the whole thing go down. 

“Yeah, you’re both shit liars.” 

They only had three weeks left, when the final placings came out. It was a close run for first place, each of them a point behind the other. Dash had focused less time on her crush on Iceman, and more time on perfect plans and her skill. She was determined to rise above Maverick and Iceman. She needed to win, she had to win. Not only to prove those who told her she couldn’t do it wrong, but to show the other young females that they could do it too. It made Ice fall in love with her even more, seeing her determination as she worked harder and harder. 

But it also made him falter a bit. Dash was colder, spending less time chatting with him in the work room, and more time studying the F-14 book cover to cover. Ice wasn’t used to her being closed off, but Slider assured him, it was just how she got. She had come down from her dogfight with Sundown, and was pissed. 

“I fucking had it!” She yelled as she took her helmet off. 

“Sure you did,” Sundown rolled his eyes, “That’s why we both got shot down.” 

“Cause you got in my way! When I say I have something, I got it,” Dash said, and turned to walk off the tarmac.

“Quit being a fucking girl,” Chipper spoke. 

“What did you just say?” Dash stopped in her stride. Most of the pilots that had been milling around had stopped as soon as the words left Chipper’s mouth, including Ice and Slider. 

“I said, stop being a fucking girl. You didn’t have the shot, and Sundown did.” 

“A shot he missed.” 

“If you would’ve moved. You’re not as good as you claim, and you’re probably sucking dick to get by. Face it, you’re just not as good as you think. Having Ice as your fucking playboy is going straight to your fucking head.” 

Dash felt her cheeks get hot, and the anger slowly crawled up her spine. She knew she couldn’t make a scene in front of the admirals and the other aviators, but she wanted to defend herself. But Chipper was right, if she made a scene she would be acting like “A girl.” Instead, she swallowed her pride and walked towards the hanger. 

“Dash-” 

“Save it, Tom.” She said as she passed the aviator. Ice’s icy blue star went from her body, to Chipper, who was now talking to Hollywood about what happened during his dog fight. Ice made a move to step towards him, but Slider stopped him. 

“You going and saying something isn’t going to help her,” Slider said, “She might be my little sister, but she’s a big girl. She can handle this shit. You’ll make it worse for her if you start defending her against every small dicked man with a fucking bone to pick with her.” Ice looked down at his boots, “Come on, we gotta get ready, we got Wood and Wolfe today.” 

“Fantastic.” 

Dash didn’t even bother to go to the rec room when she got in. She knew that the story of what happened on the tarmac was going to spread, and she would rather not deal with the stares and whispers. She went straight to her locker room, and jumped into the shower. She basked in the feeling of the hot water as it hit her sore muscles. The female locker room was on the other side of the building, so she got the silence of being alone. The only person who would wander over here to tell her something was Charlie, and she only did that once to ask her a question about Maverick. 

She washed her body and her hair, washing away the sweat and dirt from the day. She wasn’t trying to dwell on the words that Chipper had spewed, but she couldn’t shake them. Dash had heard it all before, the only way she was going to make a career in the Navy was if she was on her knees. She usually ignored all the talk, most of the gossipers too scared to say it to her face, but having it delivered right to her, was something she didn’t expect. 

Dash knew her time to get into first was winding down. Her next flight was going to be with Mav and Goose. She was nervous, she hadn’t flown with Maverick yet. Maverick hadn’t slowed down at all with his dangerous flying, if anything, he got even more reckless with the way he flew. It made Ice and Slider nervous too, knowing she was going to be sharing the air with someone who they all considered ‘unsafe’.  Everything felt good when she got up in the air, but it all turned very quickly. One second, she was lining up to take the shot, the next she was burning in, going into engine failure from a bird strike. Mav had flown through her jet wash, as she bailed out, trying to get away from Jester to correct the damage from the strike. 

Ice had been shaving his face in the mirror, half listening to the conversation between Sundown and Slider, when the locker room door banged open. Ice looked up in the mirror, seeing a panicked Chipper, and his head started to spin. 

“What-” 

“It’s Dash,” Chipper stated, which got the attention of Slider as well, “There’s been an accident.” 

Both men had never gotten dressed quicker in their lives, as they ran down the hall towards the hangar. Hell, Slider was still buttoning up his shirt as they came to a stop behind Viper and Jester, as they were whispering to one another. 

“Sir, do you know-” 

“No,” Viper said, cutting Slider off. He licked his lips and turned to look at them, “They should be landing soon. Hollywood and Wolfman were up in the sky too, they’ll be landing as well.” 

Slider nodded and looked up towards the clear blue sky. All he could see was the trails of where the planes had been. Ice felt his hands shake as he clenched them into fists down by his side. 

“Search and Rescue said there’s one confirmed casualty, won’t identify over comms, taking them straight to the hospital.” Jester spoke, his brown eyes glancing over to Ice, “There was a bird strike, as one bailed out to correct it, another flew into the jet wash, the comms cut out before I could hear on who.” 

“Alert who we need,” Viper said, and Jester nodded walking off, “You should call-” 

“If you’re saying I should call my family, I’m not. And I’m not leaving until I see their plane land. I don’t care who it is,” Slider spoke, and Viper nodded. 

The men stood there as they heard the familiar rumble of an F-14 flying over. Ice held his breath as he watched the gray plane come in for landing, squinting trying to read the small writing on the side of it. Wolfman was the first out of the jet, as another plane came in for landing. The second the canopy was off of the second plane, Wolfman was helping the pilot down from the plane. Ice recognized the red and black paint of the helmet and took off running towards the pilots. 

She felt shaky as she stepped down from her plane. The flat spin Dash had been in was terrifying, and she felt both sick from the spinning and from the fear that she was going to burn in. Dash had taken a couple shaky steps, her voice wavering as she called out for Wolfman, who had helped her navigate out of the confusion she had been in. Her RIO had passed out from the G’s of the spin, and was slowly coming to as Wolf and Hollywood got them down to the ground. Wolfman had quickly ran to her, catching her in his arms before she could collapse. 

“I got you, I got you,” Wolfman said, grunting under the weight of her body, “Hey, hey! Help! I need help!” Wolfman went down to his knees, still holding Dash’s unconscious body, as Ice, Slider and medics came running out. Wolfman shook Dash’s body, trying to get her to wake up, gently tapping her face. “She just collapsed!” 

“It’s from the adrenaline wearing off,” A medic said and gently took Dash’s body out of Wolfman’s arms. Wolf stood up and backed up, watching as the medics took over checking the girl. Her RIO was also getting medical attention, as Slider ran over and tried to get his way through. 

“What happened?” Ice asked, his heart beating in his chest. 

“I-I don’t know,” Wolfman said, “Wood and I were doing a hop with Admiral Jackson, when we heard her call mayday. She lost control, and Mav tried to help but lost control himself, burning it. Him and Goose. . . they had to eject.” 

Ice looked back over to the small crowd around Dash, and watched as one of the medics placed her on a gurney. Slider never left her side as they moved towards an awaiting ambulance nearby. The heavy feeling in his chest never left as he ran to his car, and drove to the on base hospital, or as Slider invited him to wait by his sister’s bedside or when they heard that Goose Bradshaw had been the casualty they reported. The heaviness never left until the next morning, when her eyes fluttered open and she searched around the room, finding Tom Kazansky passed out on a small plasticy couch in her room. 

“Ice?” Dash called out softly, and Tom woke up quickly at the sound of her voice. He looked around, blinking the sleep from his eyes before his blue eyes landed on the girl in the hospital bed. She stretched softly, groaning as she did, “Is-is-”

“Corduroy is okay,” Ice said, answering the question about her RIO, “Little shaken up, but he’s okay. But, uh, Bradshaw, Goose, he didn’t make it.” 

“Oh my god,” Dash said, feeling the tears well up in her eyes. She covered her mouth with her hand as she let out a sob. Ice moved quickly, sliding into the bed next to her, and holding her in his arms as she cried. He shushed her, running his hand up and down her back soothingly, “What did I do?” 

“Nothing, Dash, you didn’t do anything,” Ice said, and kissed the top of her forehead, “You had a bird strike, you did everything you could to correct the spin, and got you and Corduroy back down safely.” 

“But Mav-” 

“He flew through your jet wash, he didn’t see it and you didn’t know. There was nothing you could do but save yourself and your RIO,” Dash looked down at her hands in her lap, and Ice softly lifted her chin with his finger under her jaw to make her look at him, “I am glad you are alive. I thought. . . When Jester said there was a casualty, I thought the worst. And then you got out of the plane and collapsed and I just-” 

Y/N cut him off by placing a kiss on his soft lips. He hesitated for a second, but relaxed and cupped her face with his hands. Y/N sighed as her body relaxed into his arms. Ice pulled back and rested his forehead against hers, running his thumb over her cheek. They both were startled when the door opened, and Slider let out a loud groan. 

“Jesus fuck!” He said, running a hand down his face, “Listen, I’m glad you’re done pinning over each other cause it was starting to get annoying. . . But swear to God Kazansky, I walk in on you banging her, and I’ll kill you. You make her cry? And I’ll kill you. You knock her up before marrying her? And-” 

“Kill me?” Ice asked, cutting off his best friend. 

“Precisely.” 

Y/N groaned as hid her face in Ice’s chest, as a rumble of laughter rolled through his body. Ice kissed the top of her head again and pulled her tighter into his chest. 

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Slider. I’m not going anywhere and neither is she. And I’ll make sure to leave a sock on the door.” Ice smirked as she looked up at him. 

“Sounds like a plan Lieutenant,” Y/N said, and leaned up to kiss him, as Slider made a gagging sound.

--- --- ---

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[irritatedbookshrew]

Sandman (Netflix) Thoughts:

I am a Sandman fan from waaaaayyy back. The best gift an ex-boyfriend ever gave me was Preludes & Nocturnes. I was hooked. Sandman (and associated titles) went immediately on my pull list. I’ve read the terrible movie adaptation scripts that went around in the early days of adaptation talks. I’ve written a 50k+ study guide on the series.

Look, I love Sandman, okay.

So to say I was trepidatious about the Netflix series when it was first announced is underplaying it. Then I heard the showrunner who’d be helming the project, and that Neil would be deeply involved. I saw the casting announcements. I got excited. Then came all the trailers and snippets, and something in me relaxed. However, it turned out, I knew I would enjoy watching it for what it was.

**SPOILERS AHOY, especially if you haven’t read the comic all the way through**

One of the things I loved so much about the comic was the way Dream processes things. How he is so wonderfully blind to parts of his personality and so self-aware of others. Basically, the run of Sandman is that of a being pushed to its limits, of being unable to change fast enough or fully enough to encompass a seismic shift in reality. Morpheus stagnated in his years in the cell and the world moved on without him. And though he tries desperately to reconnect, we—as the readers—see him so out of step that it is almost painful. Yet he is so bound by his duty, his responsibilities, by the way he defines himself that he basically performs the single-most convoluted version of suicide imaginable. He can’t be like Destruction and just walk away from everything—it is not who this incarnation of Dream is. He can’t change like Delight did to Delirium to help process his trauma. And trauma it was, especially for someone as fundamentally arrogant as Dream is when first captured by Burgess.

Season of Mists is my favorite of the series because we get the first example of someone abdicating their responsibility: Lucifer walks away from Hell. Morpheus cannot understand this action but it clearly starts the gears turning, and it is mirrored again in Morpheus’ conversation with Destruction in later volumes. These two entities realized that the engine will power along without them, something Dream is incapable of accepting in that same way. It’s a fascinating look into his thought process.

To get back to the show—one of the biggest things I loved about was the references to Dream’s trauma. The way his eyes fill with tears at the death of Jessamy, at the impotent rage that simmers in him at his imprisonment. He has been brought low by mortals and it is humiliating. He has been weakened and hurt and he has no real tools to process those feelings because he is also Endless. When he speaks to Lucienne in the wreckage of his throne room and says that his siblings did not come for him, the confusion and heartbreak are there. Dream is not Desire, so expressive and in your face. I thought Tom Sturridge did a brilliant job capturing Morpheus’ micro-expressions, the tiny inflections on his face that indicate the sense of loss and betrayal. Dream makes note of who left the Dreaming and who stayed behind to await his return—and he is bothered by the fact that so few remained. He is not easy to love and he had given his subjects little reason for loyalty, it seems, because he is so remote to their understanding. He doesn’t make connections easily.

Actually, now I really want more interactions with Despair and Dream because out of all of his siblings, I wonder if she might be the closest to understanding. Anyway…

Dream becomes mired in depression and keeps seeking a way out. He frees Nada in Season of Mists and takes her anger—something he never would have allowed before. He’s trying to change, to seek out other ways to be happy. He says farewell to an old love in A Game of You and gains a new lover in Thessaly. It does not last because he is not fully present. He throws himself in his work, hoping to fill the void, he seeks out romance, hoping that will bring distraction. He goes on a road trip with Delirium in Brief Lives under the excuse of looking out for his sister but it is really him seeking a respite from his troubles. But Dream can never escape himself.

Wherever you go, there you are.

He can’t reconcile that. His trauma and his current aspect don’t allow for it, so he must think outside of his box for an escape. As he pays his debts, as he encounters past cruelties and mistakes, Morpheus gets closer to what makes human, well, human. But he is Endless. How is he supposed to make sense of that?

It’s a sad, beautiful, wonderful story. I think that’s why it has stayed with me over the decades. I am so excited to see where the next seasons take us, how Tom Sturridge teases out those tiny blips of emotion in his portrayal of the King of Dreams. I am so ridiculously pleased with Season 1 that I am giddy with anticipation of what comes next.