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sometimesanalice · 2 years ago

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What’s In a Name?

Summary: Bradley really loves the way you say his name. At the grocery store. At the bar. In his bed.

Warnings: fuff, and so much smut. Minors DNI

Length: 9K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

(This is a one-shot for my ‘Like I Can’ series. You don’t need to read it first, but you might want to. It’s pretty cute! You can check it out here!)

Bradley loved hearing you say his name.

He’d gone almost two years without hearing it. Back when he was ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ to you. Back when you weren’t sure how you would fit into the life he had built in San Diego when you had moved there for a promotion. Now he made it a priority to show you just how seamlessly your lives fit together, to remind you just how right you were for each other.

There were times when he still couldn’t believe that he was able to have you so entirely. You went from being just his closest childhood friend to being his everything. And now that he had you there was nothing he liked more than the sound of his name coming from your lips.

He loved hearing it every chance he could.

He’d never come so hard has he had the first time he’d heard you chanting his name over and over again as he’d fucked you in his bed. Your hair had been a riot on his pillow, your lips swollen from the attention he’d given them with his own. He’d just barely gotten you over the edge before he’d followed, so overwhelmed by your sweet voice so needy and breathy in his ear.

BradleyBradleyBradley

He had even changed his contact information in your phone from ‘Rooster’ to ‘Bradley’ one lazy Sunday afternoon when you had been dozing on his chest, adding a little sparkly heart next to it for good measure. In general, he wasn’t much of an emoji user, but he thought you might find it cute when you discovered it. He was very pleased with himself months later when he realized you’d never changed it back, pink sparkly heart and all.

He loved hearing you say his name at the grocery store.

He had gone off to find his favorite brand of protein powder, the store had recently rearranged their health food section and he could never remember where it was stocked. He didn’t want to drag you around on the scavenger hunt, especially when he knew you’d rather be doing anything else than grocery shopping.

Once he had it, he’d tried a few different aisles before finding you standing near the baking things and spices, he would have recognized your curves in those jeans anywhere.

You were chatting away with an elderly woman like you were a pair of old friends. It didn’t surprise him, since you’d always been the type that strangers had gravitated towards, your warm energy apparent to who crossed paths with you.

Walking up to you, he put the powder in the cart with the items you had accumulated while he had been wandering the same three aisles over and over again before he found what he was looking for near the bottom shelf.

“Bradley!” you greeted turning towards him beaming, your smile pure sunshine, before cheerily spinning back to the older woman, “See, I knew he’d find us eventually.”

“And he’s just as handsome as you said,” your new friend replied, giving him the once over.

“Yes, he is. Very handsome and very tall,” you told her with a teasing lilt in your tone, glancing back over your shoulder to send him a wink.

He’d happily be objectified by anyone you wanted, including elderly women wearing fuzzy purple sweaters, just as long as it meant you were bragging about him to them. That they knew he was yours, and you were his.

“How can me and my six-foot-two-inch self be of assistance to you ladies?” he asked, putting on his most winning smile. It couldn’t be said that he wouldn’t commit to a bit when the opportunity was presented.

“Can you reach Ruth a couple of those containers of Hungarian paprika, please?” you asked him while pointing to the red and green tins on the top shelf.

He was glad you had waited for him. They were so pushed back that there’s no way you would have been able to reach them on your own without climbing on the bottom shelf for a boost.

Safety first and all that, but also, he wouldn’t have wanted anyone to see the way your shirt would have ridden up your back. The dimples at the base of your spine were for his eyes only.

“Of course, I am at your service,” he pressed a quick kiss to your temple before stepping around the cart to grab the spice for the older woman.

“Oh, and then maybe one for us too, Bradley. I’ve never tried making Hungarian Goulash before. You’ve made it sound so good, that now I think I have to.”

“If you want to make it, mine is the number one reviewed recipe for the dish on AllRecipes,” Ruth boasted, there was no hiding the pride in her voice.

He hands Ruth the tins he had grabbed, and passes the other one to you to add to the collection in the shopping cart.

“But what I left out is that I always use this specific brand of paprika, and that I make mine with half pork and half beef. I save that tidbit for friends and family, I couldn’t just give all of my secrets away to the internet people.”

That had you laughing, “So sneaky, I love it! Thank you for sharing your secrets with us. Sounds like we know what we’re having for dinner tonight.”

You were already opening pulling the recipe up on your phone for later.

“I’m looking forward to it, especially since we know the tricks of the trade now.”

His eyes catch on the overflowing hand basket resting near the older woman’s worn Birkenstock mules. It looked heavy, almost like she didn’t originally plan on getting as many things as she ended up with.

“Can I carry that for you? Or if you have more shopping to do, I would be happy to go and get a cart for you,” he asks, gesturing to her overloaded basket.

“Oh no, those were the last things on my list,” Ruth replies, waving off his offer, “My youngest daughter is having her 50th birthday and the whole family is having a get together. I thought doubling my recipe would be fine, but I decided last minute to triple it.”

She bends down to reach for it, but he beats her to it. His mom raised him right.

“No, ma’am, I insist.” He’s pretty sure he catches you checking out his ass when he stands back up, “I’ll be right back, sweet girl. Stay out of trouble.”

He holds out his other arm for Ruth to take so he can escort her to the front of the store to pay.

“I don’t find trouble, it always seems to find me,” you joked.

“I believe that,” chimes Ruth.

He turns back to get a look at you, and sees you bringing your hand up to your forehead to mimic a full swoon.

He just smiles and shakes his head at you and your antics. Such a brat.

He helps Ruth at the check-out unloading the basket onto the conveyer belt, and then carries her packed grocery bags to her car getting them settled in her trunk.

Once they’ve parted ways, he heads back inside to find you.

You’re standing in front of the cooler with all the dips and fresh salsas, your head cocked to the side as you deliberate your choices.

What he also notices as he makes his way to you is that you’ve caught the attention of another man, one who should be paying more attention to his bagged lettuce instead of eyeing his girlfriend.

Sneaking up behind you, he wraps his arms around your middle lifting you up off the ground.

“Bradley! Oh my god, seriously?” He can’t help but laugh at how startled you are, he’s pretty sure if you were wearing pearls you’d be clutching them right now.

“Here I thought you were a gentleman, helping sweet Ruth with her groceries. It’s rude to sneak up on innocent and unsuspecting women,” you protest trying to twist out of his arms once he has set you back down.

“Ah, don’t be like that,” he settles his hands on your hips pulling you back to his chest, letting his fingers slide through your belt loops, before lowering his voice, “Unsuspecting, maybe. But innocent? There wasn’t anything innocent the blowjob you gave me in the Bronco outside the Hard Deck last night.”

He knows the shiver that goes through your body isn’t from the cold case you are both standing in front of.

Looking over to his left, he sees the man who was checking you out putting down the bag of spinach in his hands. And he is hit with a feeling of smug satisfaction watching as the guy quickly wheels his empty cart out of the section completely.

“No getting handsy by the hummus, Bradley,” you tut, still set on giving him the cold shoulder, but the way you lean back against him gives you away, “Should we get that lemon beet kind again?”

“Whatever you want, kid,” he murmured against your neck. “Plus, the word on the street is that you think I’m handsome, so that’s got to count for something.”

When you pull away from him this time, he lets you go. Getting a glimpse of the skin above the top of your jeans as you reach up to grab the square container of hummus.

You set it in the cart looking back at him as you toss your hair over your shoulder, before primly stating, “Oh, and Bradley, if you’re going to quote me I do believe I said you were very handsome.”

And with that final word, you push off with the cart meandering to towards the fruit section, the sensual sway of your hips he knows is just for him.

He especially loved the way your voice sounded when you’d just woken up, when his name was one of the first words out of your mouth to start a new day.

There was nothing Bradley liked better than the nights you spent together in the same bed. It didn’t matter if it was his place or yours, just as long as he was able to wake up to find you warm and tucked away under his arm.

“G’morning Bradley,” you’d whisper, voice soft and sleepy, a little raspy from disuse, as you turned to nestle closer burrowing your face in his neck. He knew you liked a gentle wake up, and he was more than happy to trail his fingers along your back until you woke up a bit more.

He was always up before you, his internal alarm clock permanently altered from his time in the Navy. For as much as you claimed to be a morning person, you were always the one snoozing yours in favor for spending a few more minutes in bed. It wasn’t something he’d ever expected to learn about you, and he liked being the one who got to share those intimately domestic moments with you.

The only surefire way to get you out of bed and moving on those mornings was the suggestion of hot coffee-- that or the promise of his mouth.

He loved the way you said his name when you were surprised.

When he’d gone to that furniture store you liked, his only plans were to find a new larger dresser for his bedroom. He had claimed he needed more space for his stuff, but really, he wanted there to be more room for you to keep your things at his place.

The home stylist at the store not only helped him pick out a new dresser he thought you’d approve of, but also convinced him to also purchase the matching king-sized canopy bed frame and set of nightstands.

He was told the mood was “cozy mid-century chic”, whatever that meant.

Bradley knows he runs hot, you’ve told him enough times that he’s like a furnace. So when the stylist showed him the cloudlike and breathable comforter along with the 800-thread count white cotton sheets, he had them add that to his collection too.

You still wouldn’t move in with him, but he was working on it. He knew he’d reel you in soon enough. And if it took a payment plan, so be it.

Although, he could only blame himself for the new lamps and giant rug he also purchased. He’d gotten a little swept up in the salesperson’s enthusiasm.

Hopefully that guy got commission, he deserved every dollar.

It had hurt a bit when he swiped his credit card, but it was worth it to hear the way you said his name when you saw it all for the first time after it had been delivered and assembled.

“Oh my god, Bradley!” you laughed, “I thought you said you were just getting a new dresser. Did you buy the whole store?”

“What can I say? The salesperson was very good at his job, sweet girl,” he was trying to not let his leg bounce as he waited for you to say more. A little nervous now that he’d gone overboard and missed the mark, “Do you like it?”

“It’s absolutely perfect, Bradley,” you gushed as you slowly made your way around the room taking it all in. “It’s warm, it’s classic, it’s cozy. It feels like you. You’re going to have a hard time getting me to leave now, I love it in here.”

That was all he wanted.

He felt all the tension leave his body, grinning as he watched you sit down on the bed running your hand over the soft deep green duvet. It had become his favorite color the second he’d seen you in that green dress the night at the seaside restaurant when he’d told you how he felt about you.

“So, do you want to help me break it in?” he asked, pushing off from where he had been leaning against the doorframe and sauntered towards you.

The way you slowly reclined back on the bed, your lips turned up in a mischievous smile was an answer in itself.

He loved the sound of you saying his name at the Hard Deck.

Your voice was so familiar to him that he could pick it out anywhere. He was so attuned to the way you said his name that he could be in a conversation with someone in the noisy bar, but his ears would perk up if you said his name in a passing comment.

It was like he was hearing his friends talk with one ear, while the other was always listening for you.

He could be with Mav catching up and chatting about the new plane he was working on, until:

“Yeah, I could use another one, let me see if Bradley needs one really quick and then I’ll go up with you.”

And then he would find himself standing next to you at the bar.

He could be playing around of nine-ball with Hangman, until:

“No, you’re kidding me! There’s no way you caught Coyote doing that, has Bradley heard this one before? Oh my god, you have to tell him.”

And then he would find himself abandoning his cue on the pool table.

“What the fuck, Bradshaw? You can’t just quit because I’m kicking your ass,” Jake would shout at him as he made his way towards you.

After all, you’d said his name and now he was curious.

He could be at the jukebox trying to find something better to put on than whatever terrible song Fanboy had picked, until:

“Oh! Bradley knows how to play that one, let’s see if we can bribe him to go perform it. I doubt we’ll have to try very hard, he’s such a little show off.”

And then he would find himself seated at the piano.

To everyone else he was ‘Rooster’, ‘Bradshaw’, ‘Lieutenant’, and soon to be ‘Lieutenant Commander’.

To you he was Bradley.

Seeing Bradley seated at the piano was a normal sight for you.

Since being permanently stationed in San Diego, he’d had all of the things from his storage locker shipped over, including his Dad’s old upright. He liked to play in the evening to decompress after his day and you liked to watch.

There was something about the way his large fingers moved over the keys so gracefully that was always so mesmerizing to you.

You still remembered how embarrassed he would get all those times when your moms would beg him to put on an impromptu piano recital. Usually fueled by a couple too many glasses of Cabernet Sauvignon, you realized later on.

Your mom and Carole had definitely been the “Wine Moms” at the baseball and tennis games they’d sat through in support of you and Bradley.

He would get a little sulky in the way that all self-conscious teens got, but he could never hold out for very long before pulling out the wooden piano bench. Bradley wasn’t one to purposefully disappoint his mom, their relationship special in the way that only a single parent and an only child could understand.

Once he realized it was a good way to get noticed by the girls in high school, he’d been quick to change his tune. And now it was clear he reveled the attention it got him when he sat down and started tapping out a carefree riff before launching into a song, all preening posturing and smug smiles.

You were usually right next to Bradley when he put on a show, an arm wrapped around his shoulder, always one to want a front row seat to see him in action.

Tonight the bar was a bit more packed than usual. It took a little longer to move around, and a little longer for Penny to make your drink since you had opted for something slightly more complicated than a beer.

Slowly, but surely, you wove your way through the crowd. Careful to avoid any stray elbows to avoid jostling your full drink as you made your way back to your friends where they were gathered around the ancient upright. You were nearly there when a burly man stepped around you, giving you a clear view of Bradley playing.

And you were stopped short by the picture in front of you.

The performance he was currently putting on at the Hard Deck was different than anything he did at his own home. His leg bouncing in tempo as he shimmied perched on the piano bench, like it’s a struggle for him to be contained to one spot.

He was captivating in the way that he commanded the room.

Maybe it was the way the way the muscles of his forearms were flexing as his fingers were precisely flying over the discolored keys.

Maybe it was the way the light sheen of sweat was collecting in the hollow of his collarbone.

Or maybe it was the way the veins were standing out against his neck, the way the thick tendon that ran along his throat had you transfixed as he threw his head back to sing at the top of his lungs.

His sunglasses were sliding down his nose as his head bobbed between glancing down at his hands and scanning the room. He smiled when his eyes found yours over the top of his aviators. Your hand tightened around the glass in your hand, the condensation dripping down your wrist as you stood there and watched.

You weren’t sure if it was your imagination or the tequila you’d been sipping on all night, but it seemed like he was working the keys of the piano a little harder, a little faster as he held your gaze.

And then his tongue was slipping out. Just a bit, and just for you.

Thankfully no one could hear the way your breath hitched in your throat over the sound of everyone in the bar singing along. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on.

The intensity of Bradley’s heated gaze, the way his body was moving, the way you wanted to crawl in his lap and lick the taut line of his neck and taste the salt of his skin right there in front of everyone.

You probably looked as desperate as you were feeling, because his easygoing smile turned more knowing every second your eyes stayed locked.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to no one in particular as you abandoned your spicy margarita on the nearest surface to make your escape.

You felt like you were about to vibrate out of your skin.

It was easier to slipping away to the bathroom than had been trying to reach Bradley in front of the stage, needing a moment to yourself out of his heady orbit.

Locking the door behind you, you lean against the worn wood that was littered with stickers that had been collected and brought back from around the world. You try breathing in and out a few times, the way you’ve learned to do at your expensive yoga classes, in an attempt to slow down the rapid pounding in your chest. Actively trying to not think about the way he looked at you.

There was no question in your mind that you suffered from an incurable Bradley kink. Now that you could let yourself revel in all sorts of unfriendly thoughts about him, everything he did was a turn on for you.

You had a sneaking suspicion that he might have one too. His eyes always a got a bit more heated, and his hands would grip you a little tighter when you said it.

You knew that if you were to slip your fingers past the waistband of the dainty lace underwear you had just bought that you would find yourself wet.

And for a moment, you’re tempted to do just that. To let your fingers skim up your thigh, along the scalloped edge of the panties you’d bought specifically with Bradley in mind, to think of him as you slide your fingers inside of yourself.

You’re feeling so high-strung that you know it wouldn’t take long to come. It wouldn’t be the first time you would have used the bathroom at the Hard Deck to get off.

Your hand is halfway under your sundress, when you hear the chanting:

Roo-ster! Roo-ster! Roo-ster!

In your mind’s eye, you can picture him standing behind the piano doing his version of a touchdown dance.

You’ve teased him about it before, calling him a “slutty little songbird”, which he didn’t deny. He thrives off the attention, and you can’t say you mind watching him do that sexy little shimmy he is so fond of.

You also don’t mind helping him find other ways to work off the post-performance high.

Knowing that he will probably be looking for you now that he’s done, you smooth down the skirt of your dress with shaky hands and make your way to the sink.

Standing in front of the dingy mirror, you can see just how much a wreck your appearance actually is. Your cheeks look warm, your lips are slightly swollen from Penny’s special spicy margarita mix, and your eyes have that certain wild gleam in them that only Bradley brings out in you.

You turn the cold tap on, and stick your wrists under the running water. Hoping the cool water on your pulse points will help ease the heat that is spreading under your skin.

While the chanting has stopped now, you can still hear the lively sounds of the packed bar. Figuring it’s alright to leave the safe confines of the tiny bathroom, you turn off the water and dry your hands, determined to not let anyone see just how riled up you were.

You’re barely five steps outside of the bathroom, when a strong arm wraps around your waist.

“Hey, kid.”

And just like that your heart is racing out of control again. His woodsy smell paired with the faint hit of sweat has your brain going fuzzy.

“You doin’ ok?” he rasps against the shell of your ear. He has you pulled against his warm, broad chest and you can feel the echoes of his question reverberate throughout your whole body.

You pull out of his grasp to turn and face him, taking a small step backwards towards the wall.

“Uh-huh, yeah. Everything is fine,” you ramble, nodding your head as you try to avoid looking in his honey brown eyes.

“You sure about that?” he asks taking a step towards you, which has you retreating another one back. “Thought I should check on you since you disappeared there for a bit.”

“Just you know,” you trail off briefly glancing at him and gesturing pathetically towards the bathroom like that explains your clearly unusual behavior.

“Mm-hmm, sure,” he allows, his head tilting to the side as he observes you.

You know the exact moment when he realizes what’s going on by the way his cheek twitches as he tries to control the wolfish smile he is fighting back. And you’re suddenly feeling very much like his prey when he presses forward again. This time when you step back you feel the wall against your back as he crowds into your space.

“We should probably go back,” you stutter out when he cages you in with one hand above your head.

“Maybe,” he muses, tracing his thumb along your lower lip, “You sure you don’t want to tell me what’s got you so ruffled?”

The way he is looking at you, the way he feels against you, it’s all too much.

“Bradley.”

You don’t know what you were trying to sound like when you said his name, but there’s no missing the neediness in your voice.

“Yeah, I thought so,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. He takes your hand in his, guiding you to his zipper, letting you feel him through his jeans. “You got me all worked up too, sweet girl.”

The sound you make is lands somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper.

“C’mon, let’s get out of here.”

He doesn’t wait for a response before he has you leading the way up to the bar, using your body to hide his hard on as he pays. Not even bothering to wave goodbye to your group of friends as he hustles you to the Bronco.

He definitely broke the speed limit and a couple minor traffic laws on the drive back trying to get you home to his place.

You had looked so flushed when he had been pounding away at the keys of the upright at the Hard Deck, and you had dashed away abandoning your freshly made drink. He might have sped up the tempo to wrap it up faster so that he could check on you, worried for a moment that you might have caught a bug or food poisoning or something.

That was until he caught you outside of the bathroom, and saw just how flustered you’d been and he knew.

It took everything in him not to push you back into the tiny bathroom and have his way with you right then and there. He was hit with an image bending you over the sink, and showing you just how good you looked coming around his cock.

However, a hot and dirty quickie at the Hard Deck wouldn’t have been enough for him.

He knew exactly how he wanted you: flustered, flushed, and thoroughly fucked.

So yeah, he floored the gas pedal needing to feel your body under his as soon as possible. And it didn’t hurt that it probably cleared out some of the engine build up in the Bronco along the way either.

He pressed you against the door the second you’d gotten inside, letting you rock your hips against his thigh as he sucked along the curve of your collarbone. Your hands coming up to tug at the curls at the top of his head.

“U-upstairs,” you gasp when he grazes his teeth along the swell of your breast.

You didn’t need to tell him twice.

He lifts you up, and your legs wrap around him immediately. It had taken all of his will power not to slip his hands up your frilly dress at the Hard Deck. He loved any chance to he got to get his hands on your ass.

He almost misses the first step going up the stairs when you drag your hot mouth along his neck.

“Wait, wait,” you pant in his ear, “Put me down.”

“It’s fine, I got you,” he promises as he tightens his grip on you.

You pull away and shake your head at him, “I don’t want either of us to end up in the Emergency Room for a sex related accident. Could you imagine? Jake would never let us live it down, and Nat would be worse.”

“It’d be worth it though,” he winks at you.

“You say that now, until you’re stuck in a neck brace unable to fly or have sex,” you admonish jokingly, stroking the side of his throat with the scars he earned from that night at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party.

“Yeah, but you could still ride me. The way I see it, it’s a win-win either way,” he chuckles at the exasperated way you roll your eyes.

“You’re handsome, but I don’t think even you could pull off the color of those hospital gowns,” you quip with a quick peck to his lips, “Now, hands off the goods.”

Giving your ass one more squeeze, he lets you slide down his body. He may not have his hands on you anymore, but it doesn’t stop him from admiring your figure as you bound up the stairs in front of him.

He stops short at the threshold of his bedroom at the sight of you pulling your dress over your head. Of all your soft skin on display for him.

There were times he still couldn’t believe he got to have you like this.

How did he think it could have ever just been a friendship with you?

He liked how comfortable you were in this space with him, liked how perfectly your things fit in with his.

He liked knowing that one of the pillows on the bed smelled like you.

He liked knowing that if he went in the bathroom he would find your expensive shampoo and conditioner in there next to his.

He liked knowing that if he opened the drawer on one of the nightstands that he would find your lip balm, your lavender lotion, a vibrator from your place that had found a home here, and a notebook and pen in case you needed to remember to do something because you didn’t like having your phone in bed.

What he currently liked most about his bedroom was the way your dress was decorating the floor, and the way you were kneeling on his bed like a vision.

You were wearing a matching pale pink lace set he’d never seen before. Your skin was peeking through the floral embroidery of the sheer mesh in an all too enticing way.

You were his sweet girl.

“Come here,” you beckon, inching closer to the edge of the wooden canopy bed.

He’s not one to deny you, he’d willingly go wherever you wanted. He saunters in towards you slowly, putting on a bit of a show for you as he comes to stand before you.

“I like this, it’s pretty,” he hums as he runs his knuckles slowly over the edge of the embroidered cups, enjoying the way you lean further into him.

Cupping your jaw, he pulls you forward for a lingering kiss. Being this close to you, the smell of your musky floral perfume is intensifying thumping of his pulse.

Your hands slide under his Hawaiian print shirt, helping to ease it off his body and then tossing it somewhere near your dress. You ruck the tank he has underneath up his chest and he reaches down to pull it over his head as your hands run over the ridges of his abs.

His body has been humming for yours since the bar. The hurried encounter at the door barely managed to take any of the edge off, and he was still just as starved for you as he had been when he saw you holding that drink looking at him like he was something to be devoured.

His left hand moves from where it’s been settled on the flare of your hip and up your back to the clasp of your pretty bra.

He’s been letting you take the lead, but you’re not nearly naked enough for him.

“Hands to yourself,” you mutter as you work to get his belt undone, “I’m trying to get you naked you here.”

Part of him wants to take his time with you, to take you apart slowly and see what new sounds he can uncover. The other part of him wants to have you holding onto that rich espresso colored headboard while he shows you just how much he appreciates you wearing this little set just for him.

“You like my hands,” he murmurs against your neck. He is quick to unhook the clasp of your bra with one hand, easing it down your arms and flinging it behind him.

Yet another offering to his bedroom floor.

And then he is trailing his fingers down your soft stomach, dipping them under the band of your matching panties.

He groans when he discovers you’re already wet for him. He finds your clit, and teases you there making gentle figure-eights with his finger, “Got yourself so worked up you couldn’t even stick around for the end of the damn song, huh?”

You’re quick to abandon your crusade against his favorite pair of jeans, leaving him unbuckled and half unzipped, as you circle your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“God, your fingers feel so much better than mine,” you sigh against his mouth as he licks his lips before bringing them back to yours.

Your full lips soften under his demanding ones, the sensual slide of your lips against his has him desperate for more.

He slips his tongue in your mouth taking advantage of your gasp as his circles against you turn from teasing to purposeful. The kiss turning messy with need. With want.

“I know another part of my body that you like just as much,” he murmurs, as he palms your ass.

Your hand starts moving down his chest, down his stomach.

“Nuh-uh,” he tsks, catching your tricky hand before it has a chance to reach his cock, bringing it back up to rest on his shoulder.

“I want to touch you,” you whisper against the spot below his ear that you know drives him wild.

“I’m getting you off right now,” he says firmly as he speeds up his motions against your clit.

It doesn’t take long before he has you panting against his mouth, your hips rocking against his fingers.

“That’s it,” he coaxes, “Let me give you what you want.”

He knows from the sweet whimpers you’re making that you’re close, he breaks away from your kiss to hold your half-lidded gaze as you come for him.

He will never get tired of watching you fall apart.

He will never get tired of seeing you satisfied and spread across his bed.

Giving you a moment to catch your breath, he shucks off his jeans and his briefs, releasing a small groan as his cock springs free. He’s been hard for you since he cornered you by the bathroom at the bar. Sending you a lazy-half smile at the way your eyes take him in standing there above you as he slowly pumps himself.

He knows he looks good, it’s literally his job to keep his body in peak condition.

But you make him feel good.

No one knows him better than you, makes him laugh harder than you, makes him feel as important as you do. Your appreciative gaze of his body is just another bonus to the many ways you make him feel good about himself.

He climbs on the bed, settling between the cradle of your open thighs.

“You gonna tell me what got you so keyed up, sweet girl?” he asks in-between scattering kisses across your cheeks.

“That’s classified,” you retort breathlessly as you wrap your legs around him.

“Is it now?” he grinned, kissing along the delicate line of your jaw. He’ll let you keep your secret for now, he had other more pressing questions he wanted answers to, “Did you touch yourself when you ran off to the bathroom?”

“No,” you whine, as he pulls your nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue.

“Did you think about it? Think about me?”

He wanted to know. He needed to know that he drove you just as crazy as you did him.

“Yes,” you gasped out in confession when he moves to your other breast, giving it the same attention, “I’m always thinking about you.”

Good.

“Already know how you feel about my fingers,” he rasps as he kisses down your stomach, making sure to place one on the little tattoo near your hipbone. “Should I let you have my mouth too, sweet girl?”

“Yes,” you breathe working your hands into the curls at the top of his head, “Please.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees mouthing at the last little bit of lace still on your body.

He pulls off your pretty pink panties and throws them somewhere behind him, probably landing on that overpriced dresser he bought for you.

He loved that he was the one who got to see you like this. Your hair was a mess from his hands, you pupils were blown wide, and your flushed chest rising and falling with rapid shallow breaths.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he says reverently before licking a firm stripe parting you open.

It’s not long before his mouth is meticulously working between your thighs, his tongue gliding over your clit, one of your legs thrown over his shoulder.

He’s sliding his finger into you and then another, making room in your body, determined to pull a second orgasm from you.

You’re so wet for him, so soft for him, so sweet for him.

He knows what you like. He’s studied your body just as thoroughly he did the aircraft manuals he was given, if not more so.

“More,” you moan, your hips rolling from the stimulation, “I need more.”

Pulling away from you with one more broad lick of his tongue, he leans his head against the thigh that’s thrown over his shoulder, watching your face as he pushes another finger into you. The way you’re pressing your heel into the muscles of his back has him fighting the urge to grind himself into the bed.

“You look so good like this,” he praises, taking in the way you writhe against the three fingers he has buried deep in you, as he squeezes you hip with his other hand.

He’s seen a lot of unforgettable sights from the cockpit of his plane, but nothing will ever compete with the way you look as you chase your release. Your eyes fighting to say open as you watch him watching you.

“Oh my god,” you exhale when he hits that spot inside of you, your leg starting to tremble with the need, “Please, I’m so close.”

Using his fingers and mouth in tandem, he works you with same pressure, the same pace. He feels you clenching around his fingers a few moments later, your back arching in pleasure as you fly apart for him.

Teasing his lips and mustache along the sensitive skin at the crease of your thigh, as you come down from your high, before kissing his way back up your body. Your greedy hands reaching out for him, pulling him to your mouth. He feeds you his tongue, letting you taste yourself on him.

The way you’re whimpering beneath him is making him feel out of control.

“I want you inside me.”

Wrapping his large hand around his cock, he drags it through your folds few times before he finally lines himself up at your center.

And then he’s finally pushing into you, savoring the way you cling to him as he gives you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Rooster,” you say with a sigh against his lips.

He starts to move when your hips start to shift seeking more friction. And then he’s rocking into you with the smooth, deep strokes that never fail to make your toes curl. Once, twice, three times.

“What’d you say?” he asks, as he slows the pace down.

Your hands are in his hair, and you tug on the strands when he pulls away to look at you. Your lips are swollen, but he knows that look in your eye. He can already can guess what you’re going to respond with before your lips have even formed the word.

“R-ooster.”

The word comes out a stutter, as he roughly thrusts into you again.

He doesn’t know why he’s bothered asking, he should have known that you were going to make him work for the one thing he wants to hear.

“Say my name.”

He was so gone for you, he wants you riled up and feeling the same way as him. He wants his neighbors to hear you saying his name. Wants them to know that he’s the one making you feel so good.

“Lieutenant,” you taunt, not bother trying to hide the self-satisfied on your face.

If he wasn’t going to get what he wanted then neither were you.

He pulls out of you completely, flipping you over on the forest green duvet. His hand coming down on your ass, a quick sharp slap.

The sting of it has you gasping into your forearms pillowed underneath your head, and your cunt fluttering around nothing.

Leaning forward, he kisses down the length of your spine admiring the way the goosebumps pebble on your skin now.

“Say my name,” he coaxes again.

He tugs your hips up and licks deeply into you once before pulling away. Watching smugly on his knees at the way your hips tilt up after him, your legs spreading further apart as you offer more of yourself to him.

“Bradshaw,” you counter.

Closer, but still not what he wants to hear.

His open hand connects on the other side of your perfect ass, earning him a sweet moan from you.

Grasping his cock to slide it through your wetness, he stops just short of where he knows you want to feel it the most.

He wants you dazed. He wants you desperate for him.

You’ve always been the type to take a mile when you’re given an inch. And he intends to only let you have exactly eight inches tonight.

“You want this cock?” he rasps.

He knows he’s got you where he wants you when you don’t reply with another bratty remark, only desperately nodding ‘yes’ into the mattress.

“Look at me,” he demands.

You’re slow to lift your head up to look back at him, your eyes are a little glazed over as you take him in. You look as wrecked as he feels. He can only imagine what he looks like through your eyes. He can feel the sweat collecting at his temples, can feel the flush that’s working its way down his neck to his chest.

“You know what I wanna hear, kid.”

That makes you whine.

“Oh, you wanna be my sweet girl now, huh?” he asks, squeezing your hips.

He wants to taste that lower lip, the one that’s pouting prettily at him as you nod for him again. Even now as you writhe against him you’re still trying to get your own way, still trying to get him to break first.

“Well, you know what to do,” he feels like barely hanging on now, “Say. My. Name.”

He punctuates each word with the rock of his hips, his cock just grazing your clit. Enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to give you the stimulation that you want.

“Bradley!” you cry out.

He’s inside of you before you’ve even gotten the second syllable out.

Groaning your name, he throws his head back at the sensation of finally being surrounded by you again.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he tries to ask teasingly, but it comes out more a rumble than anything else. “My sweet girl.”

Your pussy squeezes him harder at the praise as you roll your hips up more to better accept his body in yours. He loved the view he had, loved seeing how wet you were for him, loved seeing just how well he filled you, loved seeing you stretched around him.

He leaned forward a bit, brushing back your hair off your face to see you better. The change in angle making you gasp as you fisted the material beneath you.

“Say it again,” he prompts, smoothing a hand down your back, “I wanna hear you say it again.”

His name.

The only thing he wanted running through your mind.

His name.

The only thing he wants coming from your mouth, other than the sweet whimpers and moans he is pulling from you.

“Bradley,” you indulge, his name sounding something between a plead and a purr.

Without disrupting the pace he’s set, he nudges your knees further apart. Wrapping an arm around your middle to pull you up against his chest, needing to be closer to you.

“Go on, let them hear who is making you feel this good,” he grunts roughly in your ear.

“Brad-ley,” the staccato of his name punctuated by his steady thrusts against you. Your hand digging into his hip.

Interlocking his fingers with yours, he lifts your arm to hook it around the back of his neck, holding you to him there. Turning your head, you greedily mouth at the column of his throat, frenzied and wet.

You were it for him, there was no question about it. And he would happily prove to you in all the ways he could think of that he was it for you too. There’s nothing he wants more than to make you feel good. To please you. To give you the best you’ve ever had.

His other hand slides up from where he had been squeezing your waist to get his hand on your breast. He loves how perfectly you fit in his hand.

He meets you for a kiss, sloppy and perfect, messy and deep.

He can’t control the sounds of satisfaction escaping him as you move together, feeding off of your sighs and moans. Your hands are grabbing onto whatever part of him is in reach: his hair, his thigh, his arm.

Enjoying the drag of his cock as he moves in you, he lets himself get lost in the sensation of being connected with you like this. The room filled with the sounds of labored breathing, of your bodies coming together, of you saying his name over and over again.

You’re starting to tremble in his arms, he’s pretty sure your legs would have given out by now if it were for the way he was holding you against him. Your nails biting into the back of his neck, as he slowly drags a hand down your body to where you’re connected.

“I love this,” you murmur into the base of this throat.

He doesn’t know if you realized you said it out loud, doesn’t know if you meant to say it out loud, but he loves hearing it all the same.

“God, you feel so good,” he can feel the sensation building at the base of his spine, “You’re perfect. So fucking perfect.”

The way his circles his fingers against your clit has you gasping into his waiting mouth.

“Bradley, please.”

He’d give you anything. He’d give you everything.

“C’mon then,” he insisted hoarsely, pressing his forehead against the side of your temple, “Say it for me one more time, sweet girl.”

He speeds up his fingers, set on ending you. Working your body with the precision that he handles his sixty-five million dollar aircraft. Determined to give you what you’re so sweetly asking for.

And it’s his name you gasp as you come undone.

Your is head thrown back against his shoulder as you spasm around his cock, your hips rolling as you are lost to the pleasure of your orgasm. He kisses your neck and lightens the pressure of his fingers on your clit, wanting to extend it out for you as much as possible, enjoying the tiny pulsing aftershocks he is drawing from you.

It’s only when he feels you go boneless that he starts to lose his own composure. His breathing going completely ragged and hips snapping erratically against you as he chases his own climax.

A few more powerful strokes later he follows you coming hard with a groan, burying his face in your neck as he spills in you.

Somehow, he manages to get you both sprawled out horizontal on the bed without him completely crushing you.

“Holy shit,” he curses flinging an arm over his eyes, his other reaching out to touch whatever part of you he can find. There’s nothing but the sound of the blood rushing in his ears as he tries to catch his breath.

Time gets away from him as he runs his hand up and down your back. It could have been a few minutes or an hour when he feels the bed move, and you slipping out of his grasp as you get up to use the bathroom.

“No, stay,” he attempts to pull you back to him, feeling the need to have you close again as he tries to settle back into his body. You’re seemingly recovering much quicker than he is at the moment.

“I won’t even be gone two minutes, you can time me.” He can hear the soft affection in your voice.

“Don’t think I won’t,” he grouses halfheartedly lifting up the arm with his watch on. He manages to raise his head up in time to get a glimpse of your naked figure as you close the door behind you.

True to your word, you are back one minute and forty-seven seconds later. He opens his arms to you as you climb back on his bed and drape yourself half over him.

Much better.

He feels you shift yourself up a few moments later to press a kiss to the scar on his shoulder.

“I just want to try something,” you murmur before making your way along the bend of his collarbone.

Up the side of his neck.

He feels his pulse start to kick up again as you work your way up the line of his jaw. He tilts his head away to give you more access to his skin there, basking in the feel of your lips on his body.

“Bradley,” you whisper lightly against the shell of his ear.

The guttural groan that rips through him surprises him. He feels his cock twitch against his thigh, a visceral reaction to you.

And then you’re giggling.

“I knew it,” you get out between fits of laughter, “You’ve got a name kink.”

Your face pure joy at your discovery. He’ll happily let you tease him for the rest of his life as long as you keep looking at him like that.

“Nah, I got a you kink,” he says as he hauls you on top of him.

“I’m already planning on letting you have your way with me again tonight, Bradley,” you proudly declare, propping yourself up on his chest, smiling down at him. “You don’t have to try so hard, I’m a sure thing.”

If he wasn’t already gone for you, the cheeky wink you sent him would have sealed the deal.

He feels himself already starting to get hard again, one of the perks of being a part of the 1%.

“Sweet girl, you’re gonna be the end of me,” he chuckles, running his hands up your back, “And I remember someone once telling me that they give as good as they get, so I won’t be dialing it in anytime soon.”

And then he is pulling you down for a kiss.

Later that night when you’re riding him so good, you get him chanting your name.

Over, and over, and over again.

A couple hours later, he watches you slip away into slumber, satisfied and spent beneath the fluffy comforter on the bed.

His bed. Your bed. Their bed.

It was just as much yours as it was his, regardless of whether you were officially living together yet or not. He bought it for you, after all.

Even on the occasional nights you spent apart, you were still everywhere.

He liked the plants you had picked to fill out the empty spaces in the room. He liked that the right side of the bed was your side of the bed. That those were your books on the nightstand, the bookmarks peeking out waiting for you to pick up where you left off.

There was a trinket tray for your jewelry on top of the dresser right next to the to the leather watch display box that you had gotten him for his birthday. And the drawers of that well-made, but overpriced wooden dresser were filling up with more and more of your things, just like he had hoped for when he got it.

He smiled to himself as he gently stroked your hair. The last time he was at your place, he had accidentally seen the letter from your apartment’s leasing office confirming your decision to not renew your rental agreement and your move out date. He hadn’t told you he knew, he’d rather hear it from you anyways.

You would always be worth the wait.

The packages that were delivered to the door?

His, for now, until you moved in a couple months from now.

The name signed on the lease for the condo?

His, for now, until you were ready to ink yours down on a deed for a new home with him.

The little velvet box tucked away in the back corner of his nightstand?

His, for now, but always meant to be yours.

You can thank @mak-32 and her photo set of Rooster at the piano for this fic!

Also, many many thanks to @gretagerwigsmuse for being my go-to gal! I wouldn’t have been brave enough to post the smut if she hadn’t given me the all-caps go ahead!

Here’s Bradley’s bedroom, if you’re curious!

You can check my other fics out here!

Taglist:

@sehnsuchts-trunken @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @finelytaylored @phantomxoxo @viridianphtalo @chicomonks @starryeyedstories

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

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saltavenegar · 11 months ago

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On break at work need to get this thought out:

Fusion of my two interests. Operettszínház casted as Funger

Cahara: Bereczki Zoltán (or Mász)

D'arce: Vágo Bernadett

Enki: Szabó p Szilveszter

Ragnvadlr: Dolhai Attila (OR MÁSZ)

Le'Garde: Homonnay Szolt

Girl: Szinetár Dóra

#no one understands my brain #fear and hunger #sparkly hungarian fandom

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theheroheart · 2 years ago

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Finally saw Chess in Oslo.

Here are lots of observations, mostly on staging/acting and things you don't get from the cast recording. Somewhat in chronological order, except for overarching stuff. (Some observations dip into deeper analysis, oops.) Some things you might know if you've seen Svenska Chess.

CAST:

First of all I got alternate (Sanne Kvitnes) and Arbiter (Cornelia Børnick). Florence was absolutely fantastic, she killed it. Easily could've been main cast. Arbiter was absolutely solid, but she didn't blow me away - but then it's kind of hard to do that as the Arbiter. Think I like both of them better than main cast, but it's hard to judge fairly without having seen them.

Rest was as expected. Adored Freddie, but I already did. Anatoly is fantastic. Svetlana surprised and impressed me, her acting improved my opinion of her. Molokov's great, but less notable. Ensemble was solid, there's a few notable ones that delighted me.

TRANSLATIONS:

Since I'm one of the only really avid Chess fans who's also Norwegian, I feel like I should comment on this.

I think the translation is fantastic. It flows well, it's overally very intelligible, it's emotive, it uses some fucking fancy words like "polemic", it's the right level of cheesy...

Adaptation-wise they also did a lot to make the story as clear as possible, adding context when necessary. Without delving too deep in the broader political context, which they don't lean as heavy on.

There's bits I would change, but overall it's really solid.

OBSERVATIONS:

ACT ONE WOO

They did such a good job establishing the shitty homelife of the Sergievskies - not in the relationship way, but that they live in a tiny apartment, and Anatoly does so much for Russia that he never gets to see his family. They even list things: tournaments, performances, greeting and handshaking workers and students, political functions... It illustrates his struggle much way than just making vague statements.

Properly showing Anatoly's homelife at the beginning is also such an improvement to just off-hand mentioning it in a way you don't really feel it.

Related: it's really obvious how much Anatoly is controlled. They make unspoken points of the passports several times. And Molokov always keeping a watchful eye. KGB guards everywhere, and blocking reporters from approaching him.

The 80s costuming is a delight. The wigs and mustaches are wild. I need to draw Freddie's sparkly party shirt cause it was insane.

I knew Freddie spilled wine all over Anatoly, but I did NOT know that that he grabs a (male) reporter's face with both hands and plants a big kiss on his lips. Barely a minute after he comes onstage.

The Hungarian revolution flashback is heartbreaking. The ballet is lovely and sad, but what's notable is that while it's happening, Florence is sitting on the stairs and crying her eyes out. Like she's having a PTSD flashback.

What's interesting is that this Freddie's rudeness feels less spiteful/defensive, and more... like a controlled performance? He's very intentionally disrespecting them. This Freddie doesn't lose his temper.

Of course, then they go to the opening party, and Freddie very clearly flirts with (or lets himself be flirted with) two ladies. (Listen, the man desperately craves approval and attention from women. Mommy issues.)

Florence goes outside to get away from the party, and to have a smoke. That's when she sings Nobody's Side. Can't remember for sure, but I think this scene has lots of focus on hotel staff in the background.

Notably there's two hotel staff that have an ongoing background romance most of the show??? They slow-dance while tidying a hotel room. They smooch every now and then. And then much later on, when Florence shows her heartbreak at the waitress, the waitress gets notable stage attention in also reacting to the heartache? (Then when Anatoly shows up, said waitress immediately steals Florence's coffee and gives them both wine, which was absolutely hilarious.)

One detail I REALLY enjoyed about the actual chess match, is that they both note down the moves in their notepads after each move. This is a big chess thing I can't remember ever having seen in a production.

And then Freddie leaves the match. Which he does by.... very calmly standing up, picking up the tiny Russian flag, then gently placing it in the middle of the board. Then he slowly walks away from the table. Takes his jacket. Calmly walks away. It's the least dramatic walk-off I've ever seen, and it was kind of a delight. And goes back to what I said about Freddie's carefully controlled performance.

Quartet is still a great song but man I remember nothing about the staging because it was very unremarkable. Florence is fucking pissed at Molokov though, and it DOES really show off what Freddie says about Florence hating Russians.

Also the Arbiter is such a bitch and I love her.

And then in the hotel bar again, Anatoly approaching Florence and she's so uninterested. And then he starts weirdly quoting Dostoevsky, and she has the biggest WTF face, and it's hilarious.

They did do a good job of showing Anatoly actually proving to Florence he's not awful, by him talking about how he heard about the Hungarian revolution, and implying some unkind things about the Russian government. And then he asks about Freddie and she's like "None of your fucking business" and he apologies and leaves, but then she's like "ACTUALLY I'M LEAVING HIM."

And then she sings "Not Me" (rewritten Someone Else's Story), explaining her frustration with her relationship with Freddie, directly to Anatoly, which I also did not expect. (This will happen multiple times in this show!)

And then ofc when Anatoly flees with Florence to defect, we get back to more proof of Svetlana's sucky life. We see her visiting a church with Micha, and being escorted out of there by armed guards. Who pack her suitcase for her. And then when she sings Where I Want To Be Reprise, she crumples and cries over her suitcase, and it's so heartbreaking.

And then we get to the fancy party, and apparently Freddie is from Pennsylvania? Lol ok. And Arbiter is partying with the head of the police.

There we this one reporter I absolutely adored. Comedically hilarious, and the 80est 80s. Real impressive mullet.

And then Florence and Anatoly invidually dealing with the press on each side of a room, singing Mountain Duet in a very different context that I'm used to. Also enjoyed how every time each one sang, their respective journalists would freeze-frame to show it's internal monologue only.

And then there's the headline of "Anatoly's defecting, and he's in love again", and THEN YOU SEE FREDDIE WALKING THE STREETS, HOLDING THAT NEWSPAPER.

And then he sings the Pity The Child prequel, and fucking breaks my heart. He's bitterly critizes them, but then also says "Is this true? Did I deserve this? Truth is, she was my only friend... Now I'm left lonely on my own again." WHY IS THIS NOT ON THE CAST ALBUM.

Fuck tho, but I love a sympathetic Freddie.

You get more Florence backstory - she fled to the US, but her mother and brother (uncle?? just guessing based on actors) got caught when they tried to flee.

During Anthem, the backdrop has mountains and sky -- which slowly turn to red during the course of the song. Which is GREAT when later on, Svetlana sings her "Who Am I" song and says "He paints Russia's sky red."

ACT 2 LET'S GO

Opening on Argument is such a choice? So wildly different from ONiBangkok. The vibe is extremely different and intense.

Freddie's in the hotel room with the newspaper when she comes back. Also he drinks whiskey. I love this song though, Freddie is SO spiteful - something he didn't really get until Florence appears to be leaving him. Honestly, this Freddie really isn't that much of an asshole TO FLORENCE. Until she hurts him first.

But what really hurts is that when the argument ends, he just sits down on the bed while she packs her suitcase...

And he sings Pity The Child to her. This makes me absolutely feral, let me tell you. The way he turns to look at her when he sings "Just in case they said no". The way she gradually becomes sympathetic while he opens up, about how his parents abused him. (They are explicitly abusive and violent, not just neglectful.)

And then when he gets to "I was only her son", he breaks down and cries, and Florence walks over and sits down next to him, and he cries into her lap, desperately clinging to her. And then as she comforts him, he tries to kiss her - and she pulls away. And gets up, grabs her suitcase, and leaves.

And then he continues the song, sitting there alone. FUCK ME UP, CHESS.

And then Svetlana appears, still closely controlled. Micha is taken to a different room and there's nothing she can do about it.

And then you get Endgame prequel! Anatoly's "you all think you see a man", they just like, put here. And you know what, it works great? Because it's when he's been dragged back by the KGB, and he's calling out their opinion to them.

And then he walks into the hotel room and Svetlana goes to embrace him and he PUSHES HER ASIDE, and starts ripping into her about how she's "letting herself be used as a tool". She is VERY JUSTIFIED in calling him out, because yeah, they've made it really obvious she's been forced to come here. And somehow HE'S complaining? I love her calling him out here.

And Micha comes in and hugs Anatoly - and Svetlana goes to hug Micha as well, but Anatoly turns, pulling Micha away from her. Ugh.

And then Svetlana leaves and sings her heartbreaking song about how she's a powerful woman who's been loyally waiting, and for what? She's on a bench, and she collapses on the ground crying. And Florence walks by (not knowing who Svetlana is), and gives Svetlana her handkerchief for her tears. CHEKOV'S HANDKERCHIEF, this will come back later on.

And then Florence alone in the cafe, breaking my heart with Heaven Help My Heart. (Also the waitress's heart, as previously mentioned.)

And then Anatoly shows up and we get Merano reprise (yeah that's a thing now). And then Freddie shows up, VERY DRUNK, and we get Totally-Not-The-Deal. Which is just Freddie calling Florence out, pubically saying awful things about her. Freddie's lowest point, right here.

Freddie throws like, peanuts at Florence or something by the way. It's funny as fuck. He grabs a reporter's camera. AND HE SHOVES THE LOVELY WAITRESS SO SHE FALLS OVER, which, Freddie, please. He's actually kind of grabbing Florence at this point.

And then when Anatoly and Florence both call him out on his shittiness, after the song Florence just stares Freddie down, until he dejectedly walks away.

(WHY IS THE DEAL NOT ON THE CAST ALBUM???)

And then we get everyone panicking about Micha being missing. Except for Molokv, who has taken Micha out and has given him a yoyo and a glass coke bottle. Amazing. (He also leaves an envelope inside a newspaper on the bench. The Arbiter's lesbian lover assistant will pick this up.)

And then you get Florence and Anatoly undressed in the hotel room, and EXCUSE ME, WHY IS YOU AND I NOT ON THE CAST ALBUM? I mean it's a short version, less than 2 minutes, but I love a completionist cast album.

Lyric appreciation: "You and I, shaking like leaves. Whirling along the path of hope. Standing in the middle of the storm. We're woven together, now and forever." That's some evocative, descriptive language, right there.

Arbiter reprise: The reunion of the chess players. FREDDIE IS SO POLITE, smiling, offering his hand to Anatoly, taking pictures with him. Honestly, Freddie's ability to keep it together in these situations makes it SO MUCH MORE INTENSE when he does fall apart.

And then Florence and Svetlana get to meet, and guess what, THEY SING "I KNOW HIM SO WELL" TO EACH OTHER, I told you this would happen a lot. And it's fantastic, instead of two isolated viewpoints, Svetlana's first opening up to Florence, then it's them having a disagreement. It changes some lines, when Svetlana says "he'll choose his own way and leave you", she's saying it to Florence, not to herself. And Florence says, this is what she wanted to avoid.

Anatoly tracks down Molokov, demanding to see Micha. And then calling Molokov out hard, saying they've known each other 15 years, and listing examples of his loyal service that are despite the fact he still lives in a tiny apartment and can barely support his family.

And then Anatoly calls Molokov a bachelor and says he's not allowed to criticize his family. AND THEN of course we get Molokov's backstory song.

Which I'll admit I always feel weird about, but it was way better in context. Molokov using it to give Anatoly insight into what he's sacrificed. (And the lovely ballet dancers acting out the failed relationship helped.)

And then when he's calmed Anatoly down, of course he GOES STRAIGHT INTO THREATENING HIM. Saying he's going to play his last chess match ever, and lose. And then he'll be admitted to the hospital in Moscow. And then he'll release a statement saying his attempted defection was done after taking large amounts of pills and alcohol. And that he regrets the problems he's caused his family and country, and recinds the defection. And Florence will be kept under close watch, but that's it.

"What will happen to your family if you choose to stay in the west, I don't want to get into right now."

And as Molokov is saying this speech to Anatoly, there's this quiet ominous background hum that just gets louder and louder and more intimidating, and it was actually really effective and REALLY making you see the threat and the control.

And then you get a very cool scene as Endgame starts. Anatoly standing there in a spotlight, back against the audience. In the distance, the choice is lit in evil red. As they start listing grandmasters at him. You see him crumpling under the pressure - at "Capablanca", he falls to his knees.

I thought this would be GREAT if Anatoly chose to win. You don't have Talking Chess, but you have these grandmasters calling to him, like the true "win for chess" moral. But if he loses, are they judging him? Saying he's failed?

Endgame staging is actually real simple, everyone lined up. Awesomely backlit choir in the far back. Then the board is taken out, and the last match begins, and it's very intense. Freddie looks focused - not as laid-back as earlier. Anatoly looks harrowed.

I especially loved when Freddie and Molokov share the line "The clock is ticking down the minute - the circle is complete". And everyone is singing - this final move, will he resign?

And nearing the end of Endgame, Anatoly is describing the different pieces desperate attempts ("The pawn wants to be sacrificed, rook at the end of the line, a weaked knight galloping towards the king's court"), and as he does, Florence/Svetlana/Molokov all shouting at him, and he holds up his hands against each one when they yell, like he's trying to shut them out.

And then.... he picks up his king, and he lays it down. Resigning. How do they make a chess match feel this dramatic?? It's really good.

And then You And I Reprise. And during one moment, you can see Freddie in the back (back to the audience), surrounded by people, wearing a giant wreath and holding a trophy proudly.

As Florence and Anatoly draw closer, they ALMOST kiss, it looks like they'll be together - but Micha runs in and hugs his dad. And oof, man. He asks Florence to forgive him and that he loves her - IN FRONT OF SVETLANA AND MICHA BTW, who start walking away when they hear this.

And then as they part ("You and I, shaking like leaves. Whirling along hope's path. We stand in the ruins. We're woven together -- parted forever.") Anatoly goes back to his family. And get this, Svetlana walks across the stage and HANDS FLORENCE BACK HER HANDKERCHIEF. Absolutely ruthless. I adore it.

The next part is all Story Of Chess reprise. Freddie gives Florence her suitcase, and tries to get her to leave with him. She refuses and pointedly walks the other direction.

The Arbiter's lesbian lover assistant gives her the envelope full of cash, but Arbiter lets her keep it I guess. But then Molokov shows up and gives Arbiter a briefcase? The fuck does this even mean, I don't know.

Final 'You And I' now. Florence: "Is my fate controlled by someone other than me?" Anatoly: "Do we have free will? My answer's clearly no."

And you see Anatoly in his depressing Moscow apartment. And Florence in her own apartment, and oh yeah SHE'S PREGNANT. In case you hadn't heard about that little tidbit.

CONCLUSION:

This is the most downer Chess. What's even the moral? Shit sucks? Don't count on love, you'll only be hurt? It's awful.

HERE'S THE THING: STILL FUCKING LOVE IT THOUGH. It was a fantastic ride. I enjoyed the downer ending. Even if I can't possibly argue for why it should be that way.

I feel like it does "show, don't tell" better than a lot of Chess versions. It doesn't just state things, it shows you why/how. It made me feel for Svetlana in a way I haven't been able to before.

It provided that fantastic fresh intepretations/stagings of songs I've never seen before.

And it showed a version of Freddie I almost never see - way less chaotic and volatile than I'm used to.

It's interestingly very light on literally anything American. Anatoly's defection never really happens, Walter doesn't exist, there's no politicians or delegates... The only American seems to be Freddie. If anything, it's more against Hungary vs USSR. It feels decidedly Eurocentric, which I guess makes sense given it's Norwegian and based on the Swedish adaptation.

Anyway I adored it. Probably new favourite version???

Glad I've already got tickets for 3 more performances before it closes. Trying to resist getting ticket for yet another one. But I might give in if I get on at a great seat.................

ANYWAY BYE, HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS RAMBLY MESS.

EDIT: Forgot to mention Florence's full name is Florence Csilla Vaszi. Which is pretty awesome.

Anatoly (spelled Anatolij in this) and Molokov call each other Tolya and Sascha, which also shows how long they've known each other.

#chess #chess the musical #chess på norsk #norwegian chess #chessoslo

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fitzrove · 2 years ago

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Top 5 Hungarians, sparkly or not

Ahsgfhdh I probably don't know 5 Hungarians (and my answers will probably be very predictable) 😅😅😅 this is embarrassing

Máté Kamarás. The man, the legend, the revolution. The world has never been the same since he did that AAAaaaAAAAaaaAAAA during Carpe Noctem (TdV 1997), it's been icon things only from there ahhdhhsjfjs. He's one of my favourite actors ever

2. I have to put Sylvester Levay for shredding on the... whatever he uses to compose. Even KKOG/Rondo sounds sooo good, all the bad parts are Michael Kunze's fault (just kidding ahfhjhf)

3. Serban Attila because I keep listening to his Szegény kissrác panaszai on Spotify + he's an iconic Young Hungarian Nobleman (of 2005 Elisabeth DVD fame)

4. Szabo P Szilveszter (I don't watch a lot of Hungarian musicals but he's very pretty and what I've seen points to him being awesome)

5. Lol what if I just put Jácint János Rónay (Rudolf's history teacher)

#also i didnt put any people i know irl for fairness' sake ahshhfhd #asks #thanks for asking!#this is so old sorry it took me a while ajdhhf #actors #most of them

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theenchantedecho · 2 years ago

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Any news or suggestions of a possibly love interest for lonely Emmeline?

Darling Anonymous,

If you've found this bewitching parchment on your desk, then you're on the privileged guest list of Rita Skeeter's tea-time tale, coated with lashings of intrigue and a dollop of sinfully delightful scandal. Hold on to your pointed hats, dear readers of the Daily Prophet, as I, your ever-dedicated scribe, prepare to reveal the underbelly of our magical world's most tantalising tidbits.

Now, let's talk about our 'lovable' hermit, the one and only Emmeline Vance. The Curse Breaker of consequence has been causing ripples in the enchanted pool of society with her peculiar habits and conspicuously absent romantic endeavours.

As we all know, Severus Snape is not a man prone to social engagements. Yet, it seems that our reserved potioneer can't seem to keep his steely gaze off our enchanting Vance. An anonymous source reports hearing whispered conversations in the dim corridors of The White Wyern. There may not be any love potions at play, but this pair's simmering undercurrents are raising eyebrows, and, dare I say, temperatures.

But my oh my, isn't the plot thickening? Just the other day, a flustered gnome (who wishes to remain anonymous for fear of reprisal) claims to have spotted Emmeline sharing a cozy Butterbeer with the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor, Gilderoy Lockhart. Now, this dashing cad's charm is almost as renowned as his sparkly teeth, but could he be the one to thaw our icy maiden's heart?

We then approach the morose figure of Peter Pettigrew. Yes, our own pub-crawling Death Eater turned bartender. This pairing would be as startling as a Crumple-Horned Snorkack at a dinner party. Yet, several eyewitnesses (and their pet owls) swear to have seen Emmeline sharing earnest glances with him. Such a dark, tortured love story would undoubtedly be a guilty pleasure to watch unfold!

Moving further into the realm of the fantastical, suppose we pictured our reclusive curse-breaker entwined in a romantic riddle with none other than the feisty Rolanda Hooch? Now that's a Quidditch match I'd pay Galleons to watch! Two formidable women, fierce as a Hungarian Horntail, tackling the winds of passion. What a twist!

Now, brace yourselves for the most scandalous piece of conjecture yet - a rumoured liaison between Vance and the notorious Alice Lestrange. Yes, you heard right, Lestrange. An insider from the Ministry reports spotting the duo deep in conversation on several occasions. Talk about an explosion in the cauldron!

In this whirlwind of speculation, dear readers, we can only clutch our cloaks and watch as the heart's game plays out. Whichever way the love potion flows, your eyes and ears in the shadows, Rita Skeeter, promises to deliver the juicy morsels first-hand!

Scandalously yours,

Rita Skeeter.

@chasingharpy @alessandraesmee @fidemaledicta @halfblxxdprinc3 @magicalmeee

#Anonymous #gilderoy lockhart #Rolanda Hooch #alice lestrange #Emmeline Vance #Severus Snape #the daily prophet #daily prophet

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hungarian-words · 8 years ago

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Lehetsz király

Recently I saw the tag “sparkly hungarian fandom” for the first time and I just want to add this little thing

(I laughed really hard when I saw it, I mean? who comes up with tags like that?? it was a pleased laugh, it made my day)

youtube

I think Lehetsz király (You can be king) is one of the most known musical theater songs of my age group (like people who were born around 2000. don’t know if true for others or not. for my age group for sure).

One time my classmate played this from YouTube, and out of the 10 people who were around, 7 sang the lyrics, and one guy even knew the dance and performed it! Even the others who didn’t know the lyrics at least knew the song.

#did i get it right #the tag is about musical theater #right #sparkly hungarian fandom #i'm still laughing #i said it's one of the most known #but actually i don't know of any others that are so universally known #hungarian #lehetsz király #like i really appreciate when foreigners like our stuff #found it via a follower who reblogged one of my posts #rómeó és júlia #original content

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leaky-pen · 3 years ago

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Trailer Breakdown!! Part One?

I'm really not sure how to feel about these two. neither of their designs really jump out to me.

It does seem kind of interesting that they seem to be very different in terms of one looking very modern and the other looking more long time ago. Is that going to be a difference between the two schools? That one wants to adopt modern ideas and practices and technology and the other wishes to remain close to their roots and never change? That could potentially be the driving conflict here, with both of them eventually resolving it in the end and compromising about still participating in their culture while also adopting new ways to make things easier.

Now, on to the designs. Let's start with the violet one first because it seems slightly more interesting to me.

Well first of all, an electric typing seems inevitable. I actually really like this design from the waist up. It's just those jets?? on its legs?? that i'm not really a fan of. I love it's sleek form and I'm always a fan of arms in that shape with those claws. I think it's just a very fun set of proportions. The puff of the chest is kind of fun to me, looks a little silly but i like it. reminds me of a frog croaking. The face is really good. I love the shape of it and it's actually really cute. I also like the little lighting shaped thingys? on its head. They aren't my favorite part of the design but they aren't bad either. What i really enjoy are all the grooves on it that give it look that it's made of metal sections. And the way it appears to be made of metal with the electricity powering it being visible is always a fun design choice. Its stomach area seems like to me that it's glass or some other clear material with again that electricity powering it. I also love the tail. It's so sparkly and pretty and it's got a lil lightning bolt on the end! Also i just checked it's name! Miraidon! Which of course first reminds me of the Japanese word Mirai which translates to future. This seems to fit very well with it's futuristic design! And the -don on the end just seems to invoke the idea of a dinosaur or dragon to me. Which given its reptilian appearance makes sense.

And for the scarlet one, i'm not really sure where to start. It seems to have a lot of details on it.

I do like the crest on its head a lot. The feathers? and long tendrils? seem fun and flow-y. I also really like its eye color, the piercing gold color is very fun. The spines running down its back also seem to make sense. I like the triangular pattern on its tail and the diamond shape on its arms. The webbed feet? I'm a little confused? Does he need to swim? Is it based on a real animal i'm not aware of? The feather looking bits on the top of the tail/bottom of the back also confuse me. They look a little awkward. But my two least favorite bits of the design would have to be the weird tentacle things on the shoulders and the thing on its chest. The tentacle things look shiny in a way the rest of the body doesn't and it seems to not mesh well with the rest of the design. As for the thing on its chest it lowkey looks like half a tire got hot glued to him. However, i just noticed the little swirly white design on its chest and i really like those. But back to the chest thing, both designs seem to have this on it and i'm wondering if it's based on an animal or mythological creature i'm not familiar with. Its name is Koraidon! while this doesn't stick out to me in any way other than the -don at the end again pointing towards them being especially close to each other lore wise. I will check if Korai means anything tho. Well apparently it's the plural of Kore which means "an archaic Greek statue of a young woman, standing and clothed in long loose robes." It can also mean early, untimely, or precocious in Hungarian. The definition of early would make the most since given its traditional/prehistoric look. But i'm not sure why one wuld have its name rooted in Japanese and the other in Hungarian unless its just the fact that mirai and korai sound similar.

Now, here's a question i have: why do they look so similar? Now i mean we know sets of legendaries can look similar and they often do. Obviously they are meant to relate to each other in some way just from the way pokemon games work. But what is that relation? Well very obviously they have almost the exact same shape. Just one looks more natural and the other looks more man made. I wonder if that goes back to the different factions having different ways of doing things. Is the more natural one the original legendary pokemon who looks over the area and the man made looking one actually made by the other faction in an attempt to achieve the same results? I mean, the series is no stranger to artificially created or edited pokemon.

Ok, this thing

It's clearly the electric mouse or "pikachu clone" for this generation. It's name is Pawmii and i think while it's cute it doesn't stand out in any way compared to the rest of the electric rodents. I do like its little face and chonky legs tho.

"In addition to the electric sacs in its cheeks, Pawmi has electricity-discharging organs on its forepaws. It generates electricity by rubbing its cheeks, then it shocks its opponents by touching them with the pads on its forepaws."

-The Official Website

So! It can give boops of death!

Now, the thing that seems to be killing most of the internet(myslef included)

Lechonk! Fist up, I have to mention the name. It's perfect. Next, the design. It seems to be just a fairly general pig. Not my favorite pig design we have but i do love his nose and round body. His cartoon-ish proportions make for such a fun and silly look.

"Lechonk uses its sense of smell to find and eat only the most fragrant wild grasses and the richest Berries. As a result of its dining habits, it has come to radiate an aroma resembling herbs that bug Pokémon dislike."

-The Offical Website

I feel this little quirk of his is almost definitely based on irl pigs hunting for truffles. I also think this would make Lechonk a wonderful addition to any team meant for a chef character.

Now, This little thing

It is absolutely adorable! and i can't wait to see it's evolution. I love seeing what grass pokemon evolve into because so often they are based on a seed or sprout and it can be hard to tell what they will turn into. That being said, dose anyone know if Smoliv seems to be based on a particular seed or sprout? Also, can we talk about that name? First we had one with chonk in the name, now we have one with smol as well. And just look at it. It IS smol.

"The oil that comes out of its head has a very strong bitter taste, and it is not suitable for consumption. When startled or attacked, Smoliv will shoot this oil out, slowing its opponent down. It will then seize that moment to run away."

-Official Website

Well that also seems like it could be a clue towards what plant it's based on! It honestly looks a little like an olive to me just in color and shape, but i've never had olive oil plain?? So i can't really verify if it's bitter. Ah, I just realized its name is a play on olive. I must have been too excited to notice!

OK now the non pokemon designs! The professors are very obviously still continuing the theme of tradition vs technology.

I mean just look at them. Also excuse me for a second but, AAAAAAA TWO PROFESSORS??? T W O? *ahem* I'm fine now.

First up the Scarlet one. I gotta say, i LOVE her hair and her whole look. She looks epic as heck. Ok just checked, her name is Sada, which just seems to roll off the tongue so well. Her outfit doesn't stand out as amazing to me to me but it also isn't bad either. I like her belt, necklace, and hair accessories. But other that that she seems pretty ok to me. I also like her mismatched bracelets. Her face and posture seem to indicate she is more outgoing, confident, and openly happy. I also adore her coat, like yes it's a lab coat which seems so modern and technological and against her design but the little details on it make it work so well.

Next the Violet professor, His outfit feels kind of lacking to me. I've never been a big fan of the futuristic skin tight suit thing and that's pretty much all he has going on. :/ I do like his coat tho. Also his name is Turo apparently. Which the first time i read it my brain autofilled it as Turrón. I like the name Turo less than Sada but i guess it isn't horrible. Just not my tastes. His stance and facial expressions seem to imply he will be more reserved, cold, and not express emotions in as open or extreme of a manner as Sada.

I love that while they both have lab coats on, they're personalized, the fur and tooth or stone clasps on hers and the triangular shaped buttons and more blocky shape to the coat are very fun. I also like that neither of them are exactly white in the art. They are tinged orange and purple respectively. That's less of a design and more of an art thing but i adore when ppl don't use actual white, it adds so much more color and vibe to the picture.

"Each is carrying out research into certain lore passed down in the region."

-Official Website

Ok, well that seems intriguing. So it's not exactly that they have different approaches to things as a tradition/new thing. If both things are lore "passed down" then it seems like both tradition and technology were passed down? Or i guess it could be that they both have the same lore they are working on it's just how they choose to use it that changes things, that would then continue my previous train of thought.

Now!! It seems like we've had our rival revealed!

And! Her name is Nemona! Which seems very pretty to me! It also seems like her outfit is different depending on what version of the game you are in. I wonder if she will be a childhood friend who goes to the same school as you or if she's a rival from the other one? I also notice all her accessories that aren't part of her uniform seem to have their own style to them. Her glove, over the shoulder bag, and shoes are all black white and red with a distinct style to them. That makes it seem like that is more her style and if she were to pick her own outfit it would be more in that style. Which i think is great! As a character in a uniform it's important we can see her own style shine through! It may be even pointing towards her having an original outfit later on. I also love her freckles, they're so cute! Her eyes are a wonderful shade of amber and i like her hair and skin color. However, if her design has one negative for me it's the green in her hair. I love dyed hair don't get me wrong but the green with her accessories just reminds me of the stereotypical christmas colors. I've never really preferred green and red together and my personal distaste for christmas really makes it worse. But i'm pretty sure that's just a personal bias affecting it.

"Your friend, Nemona, has a sunny and energetic disposition, and she absolutely loves Pokémon battles. She’s an experienced Pokémon Trainer and serves as a reliable guide for you on your adventures. She has undisputed skill in battle—though it does also seem that she’s not the best at throwing Poké Balls."

-Official Website

So! She's a friend! This may mean she will be in the same school as the player. Or it could be that they are friends despite being in different schools. It also mentions her being an experienced trainer and she looks visibly older than the protagonist. This could place her as an upperclassman helping the player. She can also be seen saying "Are you these three's Trainer?"

This implies she doesn't even know the players team at the beginning of the game. It could be that's when you first meet her or it's just that she's known the player for a while and since you get your first pokemon as of the start of the game she isn't aware of what your pokemon is yet.

"You can experience a new style of adventure, with a world that you’re free to explore at your leisure and not in an order dictated by the story. You will, of course, journey to hone your skills as a Pokémon Trainer, but many more discoveries and stories await you. Meet a variety of people and Pokémon, and adventure in the world of Pokémon the way you want to."

-From the Official Website

Soooo, i know this probably isn't new info, but i haven't been on there before as i haven't been that interested until this trailer came out. I find this very interesting. Especially the phrase "you’re free to explore at your leisure and not in an order dictated by the story" This is interesting because even though Legends Arceus seemed a lot more open then a standard pokemon game, i definitely wouldn't describe it as open world. You are still stuck in specific areas until you complete a certain part in the story and the constant need to travel back to town to move anywhere else is slightly inconveniencing. But this seems to imply that you can wander anywhere and at any time with no limits from story progression. That is just, perfect. It's pretty much exactly what i've been dreaming of since i was a kid. Just a chance to exist in the pokemon world and run around doing what i want. I also really hope they keep the side quests and minigames from Arceus. I'd love to be able to wander around populated towns and talk to people helping them in different ways. Perhaps even being able to do minigames at establishments in exchange for some money? I know i'm probably getting ahead of myself but man i've just got so many thoughts running through my head.

Anyway, last thoughts. This games looks like it's shaping up to be really fun! I'll probably do another post like this breaking down more of the trailer but for now let's wrap things up. I love the open world feel to it. What I'm really hoping for is the cities to behave just like the wilder areas in some aspects. I'd love to be able to catch pokemon like trubbish, pidove and other pokemon that seem like they would live in cities there!! And of course that leaves me with one final idea. IMAGINE A GEN V REMAKE WITH MECHANICS LIKE THAT!!! :D Unova was based on the USA so seeing the big cities in it full with pokemon everywhere inhabiting it would be SO!! Much!!! Fun!!

Small Note for anyone who actually read this far!: I've only ever played 3 mainline games and i've only ever beaten one! So if something i said doesn't make sense that may be why. I'm also WAY too excited to think correctly so uh... apologies if i'm being stupid. This was mostly just my personal thoughts i needed to put somewhere so i really didn't expect anyone to read all this?

#pokemon #pokemon violet #pokemon scarlet #pokemon trailer #scarlet violet trailer #sv trailer #trailer breakdown #design review #design breakdown #smolive #lechonk #pokemon professor #pokemon spoilers #pawmii #offtopicink

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