#Automation made easy

[endreal]

brb, hooking an ai system trained to write scripts to an ai system trained to produce video from textual input and an ai system that generates descriptions of video content as a research exercise in identifying the most prevalent tropes and plot beats in modern cinema by (manually) cross-comparing discrete productions once content has stabilized at statistically significant similarity.

[elvenbeard]

spent all morning apartment hunting, writing e-mails, phoning a potential landlady... *melts into a puddle*

send some good vibes my way to find something/ someone willing to rent to me despite me A) not being rich and B) trying to move across the country and not able to show up in person spontaneously and on a whim.

[roseband]

....u literally do not get to complain about being "overwhelmed" at work, and try to push work onto me

when you tried to design an entire line of baby onesies......breaking all brand guidelines, u need to follow brand guidelines as a fucking graphic designer......??? like that's graphic design 101?

like i fixed this once 4 months ago, dealt with licensing depts to fix it but never again, we have pdfs and .ai documents filled with guidelines.. which fonts...... which colors... what sizing and proportions allowed

nope, not dealing with someone else's mess

[childishzombiejellyfish]

.

[arolesbianism]

Starting a new oni save that's not a rime colony for the first time in forever and I am in agony how do y'all live like this (shaking and crying as it is forced to enter a mildly warm area for drekos)

[grison-in-space]

Man, there is a huge bias in the way that hobby fibercrafters approach and think about textiles—and I say that as a hobby fibercrafter myself! See, weaving has a high barrier to entry relative to knitting, crochet, spinning—even embroidery or sewing, these days, as the sewing machine automated much of the tedium of the craft. All of those crafts require a lot less in terms of startup costs to the hobby crafter than the machinery of a loom does.

But... look, if you want to understand mass produced textiles or textiles in any historical context, you have to understand weaving. If you want to understand how most of the cloth that people wear is made, you have to understand weaving, because weaving is the oldest art for mass producing cloth that can then be turned into garments.

Spinning is also very important, of course. Spinning is how you get the thread that you can turn into cloth any number of ways. Historically speaking, though, the most common way that thread or yarn becomes cloth is inarguably weaving. More to the point, weaving is also a historical center of industry and labor organizing. Ironically enough for the argument about how no one asked a woman, the industrialization of weaving is actually an interesting early case example of men organizing to push women out of a newly profitable position.

Besides that, knitting and crocheting in particular are incredibly modern crafts. Most modern knitting as we would understand the craft is shaped by the inventions of Elizabeth Zimmerman, and even things like the circular knitting needle date back only to the past century. Historically speaking, the great innovation of knitting as a tool for fiber craft is the ability to construct garments for small, odd shapes that can stretch and grip: stockings, gloves, underwear. Even that great innovation, the knit sweater, is an artifact of the 1850s—and the familiar cable knit sweaters of the Aran Isles are even newer than that. Crochet is even younger: the entire craft originated in the 1820s as far as anyone can document.

None of that is any shade on anyone. Like I said, I knit; that's the locus of my personal interest in textiles. I just think that textile history is neat, but if you're going to make big pronouncements about the historical development of textiles, it's important to think about what changed about the technology of textile production in the most common ways of turning raw fiber into cloth—and you cannot stop at the level of understanding how to make thread or yarn, because the properties of the cloth are always going to be an artifact of the construction of the cloth.

That's technology, baby! It's literally weavecraft. But it's not obvious that weaving is missing from the bounds of a person's experience with textile manipulation until and unless they're trying to understand and work with a wide range of fabric types—and when you can quite reasonably go from raw fiber to a finished garment using modern popular craft techniques that don't rely on anything that appears difficult for a medieval craftsman to make, it's easy to forget the role of weaving in the creation of cloth as a finished product.

I suppose the point I am making is: think deeply about what your own areas of expertise are not bringing to your understanding of history. It's easier to miss things you'd think.

[xuchiya]

gamer moments

₊˚.༄ || soft valentines m.list || hongjoong || seonghwa || yunho || yeosang || san || mingi || wooyoung || jongho || ₊˚.༄

having a gamer boyfriend, yunho would probably be convincing you to play valorant. the amount of patience he has when you were struggling is a big green waving flag.

"stay there babe, jett will be there any moment." yunho, using chamber, as his valorant character, he went on a different direction making you panic initially, "w-wait yu-" it was the last countdown before the shield disolves, scaring you more. you right click to move the scope close to you and aim at the character--jett. you kept firing until you saw it laying on the ground, dead. a wash of relief covers your body, as you take cover behind the boxes to reload as you finish reloading, you were met with another enemy-- omen and before you could even aim, you were killed.

you smack the table out in frustration, opening your mouth to curse at the character and the gmaer behind, "ARGH YOU DIM-!"

"language!" yunho called, laughs at your unexpected reaction. his game play was smooth, knows the angle, how to use his weapons, understand the flow of his character. he's amazing.

the next round came, the other and another until it was a deathmatch; one more point between your team as the defender and your enemies (attacker) will determine your victory or defeat.

It was moment of, ironically, death or life in the game. you can feel the pressure as yunho look at you with a glint of determination, "you can do this babe!" he cheered, his wide grin knocking off your scared senses, rotating your shoulders as your fingers hover on the key and gripping your mouse tightly in your hand.

"to victory!" you look at him with a smirk, he nodded laughing at your sudden boost of confidence. he leans in to place a quick kiss on your lips, just right as the shield dissolve and the deathmatch begins.

"ah shi- no!" it was for a brief moment that you saw chamber (yunho's character) fell on the ground, dead, made your heart race a lot and face burning as the sudden thought of carrying this whole game on your shoulder as the best player is out.

there's only you and Neon left, and 3 more other players on the opposing side. Neon manage to kill one of the players before she was killed by Omen. Your worst enemy since the beginning.

"you can do it babe!" for a first time player, you had a good grip of learning your character immediately. you were walking around, looking for a place to spike the plant. Sound of the metal clanging on the ground as the spike is planted and the automated voice of announcing of your plantation. yunho was watching on his seat, not giving you any words except of encouragement.

"my babe has 23 kills? holy shi-" yunho gape at the screen as he checks every players status and seeing your kills for a first time player is shocking. you were focusing on the game when the screen showed a red paint, indicating you were hit.

immediately, aiming at sage. she was an easy hit for you, but the last one will be a little difficult. you walk around but staying in the same area as the spike; just as you predicted, the last player was diffusing the spike.

in a swift moment, your fingers press on the keys and in a blur of the moment, the screen showed a green banner. victory.

"LET'S GO!!" yunho cheered, standing up. you removed your headphones; not believing the actual victory. yunho grab your hands, hugging you whilst jumping around, "my babe is pro gamer!"

you laugh at his enthusiasm but jump along with the victory. even if you failed multiple times, yunho's patience never waver. he was always been there for you, to see you struggle and stand back up, to see you cry and wipe them on your own and to see you defeated and to gain victory on your own.

you look up to him, arms wrap around his waist, eyes twinkling in admiration, "well i have the best gamer-teacher..." his ears redden at the unexpected compliment, yunho looks at your with the same eyes; full of affection. he leaned down, catching your lips with his. it molded perfectly.

he pulled away, pecking your nose before pulling you down with him on his gaming chair, "i know the game can be tiring so i'm letting you rest up while i go for another game." you chuckle, adjusting yourself on his lap. he knew you so well that things like this are new to you and that made you drain, mentally and physically.

you rest your head on his shoulders while he left light kisses on your head as the match began.

taglist: @vantediary

[nineteenninety-six]

HI EJDBJEBJ pls pls can u do a banda sunato imagine?

where he meets reader at the jack of hearts game and he fell in love at first sight and he was not expecting it because he's a serial killer and there he sees reader (doesnt need to be fem) and like gad damn hi why did i just meet u today. and he swears to like,, protect the reader.

bonus ig is that reader is close to chishiya

I change a few things from the episode but hopefully, it still makes sense lol and Banda is ooc. Also, it's funny seeing the likes go up for my Arisu fic since the second season was released.

I made this gn but if you see any gendered language please tell me so I can correct it!

YN trailed behind Chishiya as they entered the prison where the Jack of Hearts game was being held. After being separated from the rest of the group, the two of them were trying to get back to them whilst entering the face card games.

Well, YN was focused on getting back to the group whilst Chishiya took his sweet time, eagerly seeking out the blimps that flew over Tokyo. 

His eyes lit up when he realised that they were near the Jack of Hearts game, and though he says he was not suited for them, YN believed that Chishiya was intelligent to the point he could adapt to all of the card types, except maybe Spades but he would figure a way out for that too as he did with the Tag game.

If it wasn’t for the fact that their visa was going to expire soon, YN would be sitting outside of the prison waiting for Chishiya to return but unfortunately, the borderlands were cruel so here they were putting their life on the line yet again.

They slipped the collars on as instructed and made their way into the guard room where about ten people were waiting and judging from the table of collars by the entrance, it was going to be a high-number player game.

Chishiya found a shadowed alcove where he could see the entrance and everyone else who was already there. YN took their place next to him and together they waited for the rest of the players to join.

Eventually, the last player joined and the tension and fear in the room amplified as the screen in the room lit up and the automated voice rattled through the speakers and everyone’s attention was directed to it.

“Difficulty, Jack of Hearts.”

“Game, Prison Cell”

┆彡

Banda stepped into the guardroom and set his gaze upon the other players in the guardroom. Some nervously avoided eye contact, others squared their shoulders and made themselves bigger as others hid in the shadows.

Nothing unusual, he noted. After all, they were all forced to participate in these death games but some adapted better than others. Some people thrived and dominated the games whilst others simply rode on their coattails, surviving off the backs of others.

Banda turned his attention back to the screen, listening to the instructions as they were explained. 

“Rules. Guess the suit that appears on the back of your collar. However, you cannot see your own suit. The time limit per round is one hour. Five minutes before the time is up enter one of the prison cells and guess what your own suit is. If you do not guess your suit correctly, the game is over for you. When time runs out, your collar will explode and you will die. In addition, your suit will change at every round.”

People fiddled with their collars, twisting and turning but their design made it impossible.

“But we just need to have someone tell us what it is, right? That'll be easy” A young man excitedly exclaims on the other side of the room, bringing Banda’s attention to him and consequently to YN as they move out of the shadows when the man next to them responds.

“I wouldn't be so sure. They haven't told us how to clear the game.”

Banda pays no attention to the voice as it finishes explaining the rules as he was hooked on the mysterious person on the opposite side of the room. 

He was down bad and they hadn’t even shared a word.

┆彡

YN watched as everyone started to team up but distrust was thick in the air. Reality has settled in, it would be hard to clear this game and most will die as distrust and backstabbing fester.

The young man in what YN thought was quite an adorable set-up of a yellow t-shirt and dungarees, turns to them “Hey, let’s tell each other”

“If you want to survive, you need to observe everyone here very closely. You need to remember everyone who doesn’t lie. Besides, I could be the Jack of Hearts myself…”

YN tunes out Chishiya, their gaze focused on the man who is steadily approaching them from the other side of the room. He was cute, with a sweet smile and broad shoulders.

His eyes are only on YN and as he stops in front of them, it pulls Chishiya from his conversation but he remains silent as he watches on.

“Do you want to partner up?” The man asked eagerly, “We’re stronger in pairs.”

Chishiya makes a noise of amusement which causes the man's eyes to flicker over to him.

“...Unless you’ve already partnered up” The man glared slightly at Chishiya

“No, no… we can all group up.” YN quickly spoke up, trying to diffuse the tension between the two men. Chishiya had the ability to piss anyone and everyone off, including YN several times.

When the man looked back over at YN, they introduced themselves, holding out a hand that the man eagerly shook and introduced himself.

“Banda.” He smiles, “Banda Sunato”

YN returns his smile and twists around, showing him the back of their collar, “Do you mind telling me mine?”

Banda steps closer to look at the collar before gently tugging YN back around to face him. The physical contact was unneeded but YN didn’t mind. In fact, they kind of liked it.

“Club.”

YN tells him and Chishiya’s theirs before they have to go into the cells to call out their suit.

There are no deaths this round and everyone breathes a sigh of relief as they step out of their cells. 

Immediately Banda makes their way over to YN with a smile, not wanting to be separated from them for longer than he has to.

Chishiya watches as they head to the food room, racking his brain, trying to remember where he remembers the name Banda Sunato from. 

┆彡

“You know, I wonder how long this will last”

The words of the man next to Banda catch YN’s attention, so they listen in on their conversation.

“Either the Jack will start killing people, or someone who’s afraid they’ll be killed will start killing others. Until one of those things happens, this will never end.” Banda explains.

“That’s exactly right.” Chishiya jumps in.

“As long as we’re all telling each other, we’ll be fine.” The man in the yellow shirt, Ippei, tries to look on the brighter side of things.

YN gives him a sympathetic smile, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

Their conversation is interrupted by shouting and a young man being shoved to the floor. Everybody turns to watch as a bald man shouts at the frightened younger man to tell him his suit.

YN tries to move forward to help him but is stopped by Chishiya who shakes his head at them, motioning to what Banda was currently doing. 

When YN hears the muffled explosion and thump that echoes through the prison at the end of the round, they realise what Banda had done.

┆彡

Banda watches as YN snacks on a packet of cookies, finding everything they do utterly endearing and adorable.

“You know…” He begins to speak, catching YN’s attention, “I would never betray you. I’ll protect you.”

He takes YN’s hand in his, holding it tightly but their moment is interrupted by the arrival of Chishiya.

“Eyy, for all we know you can be the jack of hearts.”

Banda glares at Chishiya. So does YN. Trust him to stir up shit.

“So could you.”

Chishiya points at YN, “They can vouch for me”

Banda looks over to YN who rolls their eyes and nods, “I’ve had the misfortune of knowing Chishiya since I came to the borderlands. He’s not the Jack. Neither am I, by the way.”

Banda quickly shook his head, “I would have never thought that.”

YN saw Chishiya make a face from the corner of their eye but ignored him.

YN didn’t tell Banda that they knew he kickstarted the series of deaths in this game either.

┆彡

Players were dropping like flies. Backing stabbing and fear had crumbled groups until there were only seven of them left. 

Ippei couldn’t take it, the game had broken him and as YN watched him sob on the floor as Chishiya tried to comfort him, they felt bad for him. They understood how these death games took everything from you and if you manage to survive one, you barely have enough time to recuperate before you’re forced to join another lest you want your visa to run out.

When YN heard the muffled explosion at the end of the hour, they knew Ippei chose death. 

Banda approached YN, seeing how upset they were about Ippei, bringing them into a hug and comforting them.

“He’s at peace now.”

YN nodded and snuggled further into his hold, melting into his warmth. YN had needed that hug desperately, the last one they had was with Kuina at The Beach which felt like a lifetime ago. 

YN took a backseat role for the next round, Chishiya told them their suit and vice versa. Watching as he planned something with Banda and Yaba but did not get involved as they laid a trap for Matsushita, the Jack of Hearts.

After the trap fell in place, YN watched as Yaba dragged Matsushita into an empty cell as Banda made his way over to where they were standing and Chishiya made himself scarce, giving them a moment of privacy.

Banda cups YN’s cheek in his hand, “I think this is where we part but we will meet again. I promise you that.”

YN nodded, placing their hand over the one that rested on their cheek, “We will. I know it.”

Banda gave them a rare smile before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on YN’s cheek before he let them go and walked back to the cell Yaba was holding Matsushita in.

As YN and Chishiya left the prison, the blimp above it exploded, signalling the Jack of Hearts had been defeated.

YN cast a worried look back at the prison as they walked further away which Chishiya rolled his eyes at when he noticed.

“You know he is a serial killer right?” Chishiya told them still walking away, “ He’ll be fine”

YN did a double take at his words, “A what?”

“Serial killer. Killed four women”

YN gaped at the back of Chishiya’s head before chasing after him, “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

Chishiya looked behind him and picked up his pace at the sight of YN’s mad face gaining ground on him, “I thought you knew! I thought he told you!”

┆彡

One week later, YN sat outside the supreme court waiting for Chishiya as he played the King of Diamonds game when they heard a voice call out to them.

“Waiting for someone?”

YN looked up and couldn’t help the smile that spread on their face, 

“Banda!”

[ohtobeleah]

Radar // Bob Floyd

Summary: After Phoenix and Bob are forced to eject after a freak bird strike—the Top Gun class find out a little bit more about their quiet back seat weapons systems officer.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd paring. Jake ‘Hangman’ Sersin Antagonist Angst.

Author Note: Absolutely obsessed with Bob atm. Open to make this a concept train— Bobs just so pure. I could write about him forever. For the purpose of this fictional universe OS ranks over Lieutenant.

“Bird Strike!--” Phoenix shouted, the jet buffering for a second before swinging to the right. Alarms instantly began to blare, a warning light popping up with one of Bob’s biggest fears. Fire. looking behind him out to the left of the cockpit, Bob could feel the panic rising in his chest at the quickly escalating severity of the situation unfolding.

“Phoenix, left engines on fire.” Bob relayed what was going on, even though he knew Phoenix already knew from the amount of alarms ringing off.

“Climbing!” Phoenix shouted as she pulled back on the throttle. “Throttling back, shutting off fuel to the left engine, extinguishing fire.” Bob watched as the right engine began to diminish, not something you’d want to see at a time like this.

“Phoenix, right engines out I repeat! right engines out!”

“It's still spinning, trying to restart the right engine.”

“Phoenix it's on fire, don't try to restart it!” Maverick's voice came through the comms as Bob watched on from the back seat, his mind running wild. Was this how he was going to go out? Was this it? A fucking Bird Strike? Bob's mind was blurred with images of you, your smile, your laugh. He thought what you would do in a world post him, if you'd move on, if you’d ever have children. It was easy to live with ignorance, but in situations like these the certainty of death was all too confronting. Every small moment with you Bob treated it like it would be the last, not a second was taken for granted, because he knew that every time he climbed into that back seat ready for take off? He may not get to experience another.

“Throttling up!” Phoenix reported as she climbed a little higher trying to restart the engine, but it was to no use. The engines completely cut out, bursting into fire. Bob could feel the heat radiating behind him, panic setting in heavily.

“Phoenix we’re on fire, we’re on fire!” Bob shouted.

“Dammit–” Phoenix sighed, not sure what her next move was going to be, but whatever it was, she had to think fast. It wasn't just her life on the line, but her back seaters as well. Spinning out of control and hurtling towards the mountain range below, Mavericks voice came over the comms once again.

“Phoenix, Bob, punch out now, punch out!” Maverick shouted in desperation.

“There's warning lights everywhere Phoenix, were in hydraulic failure.” Bob reported, his mind made up–but he had to wait for Phoenix to confirm they were punching out.

“I can't control it–” Phoenix panicked as she pulled and pushed the throttle she gripped in her hands, trying to control the fall.

“We’re going down Phoenix, we’re going in where going in!” Bob repeated. Automated warning signals blasting throughout the cockpit.

“You can't save it, eject, eject!” maverick called. The three words of confirmation finally left Phoenixes mouth, Bob let out a heavy sigh as he grabbed his eject handles.

“Eject, eject, eject!” Phoenix shouted.

“Ejecting–” Bob replied, pulling harshly on his cords, only to smack into the lid of the cockpit on his way out. Shooting high into the sky in a picnic. His shoot had come loose. “Shit!” Bob panicked as he fell free towards the ground below, working frantically to pull his shoot to slow down. Only when doing so did it jerk him up fast, compressing his torso until he let out a blood curdling groan, blacking out as he descended to the ground.

—---

It was hard to get a read on Bob Floyd. His call sign was his nickname—short for Robert. Just plan, simple Bob. The other pilots at Miramar for the life of them couldn’t get a read on him. Bob was quiet and in all aspects, reserved. They kinda just decided as a collective unit to throw the call sign Bob back at him because in all honesty? Bob didn’t really try all that hard to give them any sort of personality.

He was simply a back -seater. A weapons system’s officer who was damn good at his job and just so happened to be in love with the Miramar Operations Specialist. His darling wife of two blissful years and best friend of five, Bob Floyd held that card close to his chest. Just as close as his wedding band strung around his dog tags, tucked under his flight suit.

Your name was Renée Spencer-Floyd, but everyone just called you by your call sign. Radar. To be fair, you and Bob couldn’t help but to laugh some nights. It had to have been the hyphenated last name that threw people off your scent. And to give a smidge of credit Floyd was a pretty common last name. So to have Spencer-Floyd and Floyd at Miramar at the same time? The reach wasn’t all that far.

“Well, there doesn't seem to be anything broken besides the few busted ribs Lieutenant Floyd, but I would like to keep you both overnight for observations. You know–” Doctor Chris tried to explain to the two obviously shaken aviators. “To be sure the signs of shock diminish and to double check that there's no internal bleeding anywhere.”

“Isn't that where the bloods supposed to be?” Bob tried to crack a joke, his ribs busted in three separate places from the impact of his shoot ripping him up, faulty– but still life saving. “Internal?”

“I guess you could put it that way.” Doctor Chris chuckled to himself as he quickly checked Bob’s pupils. One by one with a small flashlight. “You got any family we can call? A girlfriend perhaps?” Phoenix smirked to herself as she sat on the bed across the room, Bob didn't have a girlfriend did he? Surely he would have mentioned it.

“Uh, yeah actually, you could call my wife? She’s probably either not aware of what's happened or trying her best to manage expectations that she's cool, calm and collected one hundred percent of the time albeit while she's screaming on the inside.” Bob rambled, too afraid to look over at Phoenix.

“Wife got a name Bob?” Dr, Chris asked as he clicked his flash light back into the breast pocket of his coat. Pulling out a pen and notepad to write the details down.

“Uh, it's uh, OS Renee Spencer-Floyd–” Bob squinted at the squeal that left Phoenix’s mouth, her jaw dropping to the ground as Dr. Chris wrote down the details, leaving soon after to go contact you immediately about Bob's situation. There was a few months of silence before Bob had the courage to look over at Phoenix, still in shock. Not from the crash, but from the new revelations. “I don't wanna hear it.” Bob begged.

“You’re married!? More specifically to the OS!? Radar!? As in the radar, our all seeing eye in the sky?” Phoenix had always admired what you did just as much as you did her. “You and Radar are married?”

“For two years, yeah” Bob pulled out his dog tags that were tucked away into the pocket of his hospital gown. The nurse had made him take them off before he had his multiple x-rays, having given them back shortly after with his wedding band still strung around the chain. Holding it up so it spun in a small slow circle. “We both transferred over from Lemoore, try and stay as close as possible, whenever we can.”

“We've all been in a group together at the Hard Deck and not once have I seen either of you interact like any more than friends?” Phoenix questioned.

“How are you and Bob going?” Maverick asked as you sat with him at the bar. Sipping down the cold beer Penny had offered you as you sat. The pair of you had just made your way over from being briefed about this highly classified, dangerous and in your professional opinion— ridiculously suicidal mission. 

“We’re good.” you nodded, pressing your lips together as you let the bottle rest on the bar. “You know, trying to keep things quiet while we’re stationed here, a need to know basis type quiet.” Pete Michell had always seen you as the daughter he never had, always keeping up to date with your life, both personal and professional.

“But if you had it your way he wouldn't be here right now would he?” Maverick smirked, watching as you looked over across the bar to where your husband sat, watching the other aviators play pool as he ate what you could only assume to be peanuts from a plastic cup. Taking the final sip of your first beer you quickly gestured at Penny for another, fishing some cash out of the pocket of your Naval skirt, accepting the fresh beer.

“After that briefing are you kidding me? Hell no, but I don't make the rules, do I?” you smirked, taking another sip, you still couldn't process what you had just been briefed on, but until you had a chance to sit down and really go through all the intricate details and program a simulation? You didn't want to think too much about it. Crossing the hard Deck you slowly approached your husband, god he looked good in his uniform. He always did.

“Is this seat taken?” you cooed, coming up beside Bob close enough to graze his shoulder. Small, undetected touches were always a go to for the pair of you, indiscrete but full of love and electricity. Turning to face you with a bright smile beaming Bob shoved over, making enough room for you to sit beside him. The blush across his cheeks made him feel like a teenager again, talking to girls was never a strong suit of his, but you always seemed to make it easy, well, as easy as it could be for a guy like Bob. 

“Please, have a seat.” Bob replied softly. “When did you get in?” He asked curiously, drinking in the sight of you. Completely head over heels.

“I literally just got here, I went straight to the briefing room when I got off the plane.” you explained, having had to take a separate flight to Bob. “I feel like my heads going to explode.” You took a sip of your beer as Bob bummed your side.

 “That bad huh?” he questioned, taking a sip of his own beverage— a cup of ice water. You nodded in response with a small sigh. Looking at Bob, he could see the worry swirling around in your eyes. “A need to know basis I’m assuming?”

“The Admiral will brief you and the guys tomorrow.” you smiled softly. Feeling a presence  coming towards you. Catching your attention as you took just one more sip of your beer. “All due respect though–” you paused for a moment, drinking in the sight of your husband, taking into the bottle neck of your beer discretely. “If I had it my way, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now.” Bob understood where you were coming from, he never really had to worry about you being in life threatening danger as much as you did. More often than not you were stationed stateside, and when you weren’t? You mostly stuck to patrol boats, the non-combatant type that just sailed the seas on reconnaissance. Bob knew that after this mission was over you’d both had a total of two blissful months together before new stations were sent out, so in his mind? Any time he got to spend with you was a blessing, no matter the danger.

 “And with all due respect, ma’am.” Bob teased, his fingers dancing discreetly with the hem of your naval skirt, his eyes roaming your face, taking in all the features, all the beautiful flaws that made you perfect in every respect. “I'm just thankful that I get to be stationed in the same place as you.” you could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you smirked. 

“And who would this lovely lady of the sea be?” Jake Seresin, you'd heard rumours but never had you ever had to encounter the man who had an ego the size out Mt Everest. “Bob? Care to introduce us to your friend here? One of Top Guns finest i presume?” 

“Uh–” Bob stammered over his words as he cleaned peanut crumbs from his uniform. “This is uh–um i–” rolling your eyes as you chuckled as you stood, holding your hand out for Jack to shake. 

“OS Renee ‘Radar’ Spencer-Floyd.” you introduced yourself. “I presume it's Hangman?” you saw the colour slightly fade from Jack’s face as he shook your hand. “Nice to meet you, and the rest of the Top Gun class.” you gestured to those who stood around the pool table. 

“You're our operations specialist?” Jake questioned with a hint of disbelief in his tone. “God damn we’re all doomed boys.” Jake smirked, biting his bottom lip as he eyes you up and down.

“Not if I have anything to do with it.” you replied, slightly annoyed at the misogynist undertone Hangman had given you.

“Well, I'm keen to get to know more about you, so how about we go out to dinner sometime, you can tell me all about what it is you actually do and I can tell you how dangerous it is to fly fighter jets for a living?” You generally wanted to gag. Not only could you not process the severity of this mission but now you had Jake Hangman Seresin hitting on you in front of the class you had to get home safe to their families but also your husband. Rolling your eyes you handed Bob your beer. 

“Listen, Hangman, I'm flattered really, but–” you paused, feeling Bob's hand slipping up and down the back of your thigh gently, complete secrecy to his gentle touch. “I've got my hands full right now keeping you all alive and you really really arent my type.”

“Are you not into pilot's Radar?” Hangman questions, trying to read you as you chuckled and sat back down next to Bob.

“Weapons systems officers are more my type.” you teased, Bob couldn't hold his drink in as he splattered a cough. Shocked, you'd be so bold. The group laughed at the way Bob reacted  to your comment. 

“Well you're in luck Radar, Bob here's a weapons systems officer.” Coyote pointed out, having no idea you already knew. 

“We are friends.” Bob agreed wholeheartedly before correcting Phoenix a little. “Well technically she's my best friend but I mean you get the drift.” Bob couldn't help but to smirk. It hit a little harder then Phoenix expected it to, thinking back to what Maverick had said earlier in the week.

“Dont tell me, tell his family.'' At the time Phoenix didn't know Bob’s family, but the fact you were Bob’s wife, changed everything.

“Holy shit– I can't believe it, you and the radar!” Phoenix clapped her hands as she slightly giggled to herself. “Woah, that's got me, I'm too stunned to speak.” Bob let out a small scoff, looking down at his feet.

“Yeah well, we don't really like to mix our personal and professional lives all that much.” Bob explained. “Hence why we don't really announce our relationship, our marriage to the entire navy. Just a small need to know group.” Bob explained as Phoenix listened, understanding wholeheartedly.

“Well thanks for letting me in.'' Phoenix smiled softly from across the room, Bob simply pressed his lips together and nodded in response, nervous for you to find out. “How long have you two been together?” Phoenix tilted her head to the side, waiting for Bob to respond.

“All up? It will be seven years this August, and boy has time stood still with her.” Beside his job as a weapons system officer, Phoenix had never really heard Bob speak about anything else so passionately. It was like a flood gate had been let open. “I’m telling you Phoenix, that woman?” Bob smiled bright from across the room. “Is the absolute love of my life, so thank you for allowing me to come home to her one more day.” Bobs thank you was as sincere as it could be. Tears in his eyes as he held his emotions in.

“Radar seems like a really nice person Bob, I'm glad you have someone to go home to, especially after today.” Phoenix smiled softly, feeling confident in her choices today, the ones that led to both her and Bob both still being alive and breathing and most importantly, both in one piece. “She's quiet though? like you.”

“She's passionate too, loves her job Phoenix, she’s probably in that communications office yelling at the Admiral about something that needs to be altered or changed completely to keep us all safe up there.” Bob chuckled, knowing you were always fighting for everyone else. “Hell she’d challenge anyone to keep pilots safe, she doesn't believe in suicise missions.”

“Does she think this one is?” Phoenix asked sheepishly. “Does she think this missions a suicide mission?” Bob was quiet for a second or two, knowing how you felt about this one.

“She knows that there's a possibility someone won't be coming home, but, she's trying her best to make sure we all do, whoever ends up going.”

—--------

You weren't aware of what happened. You were in the middle of an operation that required all of your focus, time, and most importantly your expertise.

“Two minutes and fifteen seconds is an impossible time to match, with the combination of the steep climbs and the fact whoever flys this mission is going to have to withstand incredibly force, i highly recommend pushing to two thirty–”

“Unbelivable–” Admiral Bates groaned. “You played whatever stupid game on the beach with the aviators and got close!” Admiral Bates was up in your personal space in the commander's station. A dark room full of radars and operations systems. you felt your mind escaping back, not the the beach because of the dogfight football, but for something else, someone else. Bob. 

“So—“ you cooed, walking with Bob up the beach along the water’s edge. “I'm a little pressed you didn’t take your shirt off.” you sighed playfully. Bob couldn’t hold back a laugh as he smiled bright, turning to you as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. 

“Oh yeah, no I uh—I didn’t want to bruise Hangman’s ego.” Bob teased kicking the water that lapped around his ankles. “You know, with how absolutely ripped I am.” You chuckled in response, letting the conforming silence fall between the pair of you. “Still would have enjoyed the show-“ you smirked, thinking about the way Bob felt, his warmth, his touch. “I think Rooster might be onto us–” Bob interjected with a worrisome tone. His fingertips danced with yours as you walked side by side. “I think he saw you sneaking into my bunk the other night.” you couldn't help the scoff that left your mouth. Nodding in response. 

“Oh yeah, caught me red handed, but I told him the next morning we were doing paperwork–”

“Paperwork?” Bob questioned. “You couldn't have come up with any other excuse?”

“I was caught off guard!” you laughed, defending yourself as you bumped Bob's side, him doing the same to you with his hip. “Besides, if anyone was to know, I think Rooster would be the absolute least of our concerns.” 

“Since when does Bob talk to girls?” Coyote couldn’t help but lock onto the pair of you as you walked up the beach. Rooster watched as you bumped into Bob before he bumped back into you. Laughing loudly. “I mean they were stationed at Lemoore together so maybe he’s just comfortable with her?” Rooster mentioned, sparking a questioning look from Coyote. 

“What?”“Who told you that?” Coyote pressed, crossing his arms as he watched on. 

“Radar did? We had lunch in the mess the other day, just ran into her, why?” Rooster explained as he watched Bob try to trip you up. Thinking back to when he had caught you sneaking into Bob bunk, he was sure paperwork did not involve the things he heard, but for what it was worth? Go Bob.

“Bob told me they’d never met before until last Thursday—“ Coyote questioned, dumbfounded at the sight he was seeing as Bob made you scream like a teenager as he wrapped his arms around your waist, tackling you gently into the water. 

“I knew taking a chance on you was almost as incredibly risky as taking a chance on Maverick—at least he lives up to the expectations set for him.” Admiral Bates hissed your way, throwing insult after insult at you as you stood your ground. You’d run the systems, done the checks, done the math and the numbers, the risk to reward ratio wasn’t adding up. Rolling your eyes you proceeded with your judgment call, having simulated the mission over and over and over again.

“This is my professional opinion as an operations specialist, the numbers don't add up. It's gonna take one hell of a pilot to succeed and even then you have to accommodate for loss, he or she–” you hesitated for a moment. “Won't come home if you send them in at two fifteen.” you felt as if you were red in the face.

“I have no doubt in my mind that it is Radar, however, your judgment is skewed by the amount you have grown to know this class.” you could feel your heart racing. “They all accept this risks—“

“They all have families who love them?” You argued. “What excuse will be good enough when you tell them you had a choice to do this the right way and you pushed and pushed and pushed Admiral!” Slamming the stack of papers you held in your hand down on the table next to you in frustration. They never listened to you, a woman very much climbing the ladder in a man’s words.

“Those pilots have what it takes, Radar, it’s you who doesn’t have the faith—“

“It’s a god damn suicide mission!” You shouted, anger coursing through your veins. “And if you think it's doable, admiral, how about you fly it?” you hissed, gritting your teeth as you held your ground. “All due respect sir, this mission as important as it may be it isn't worth putting people's lives in danger any more than they have to be, if i can help it, i will, and in my expert opinion on the subject you either need to increase the time limit or find a damn good pilot who’s willing to self sacrifice.” A knock at the door interrupted the heavy moment between you and Admiral Bates. Taking a step back and a heavy sigh, you answered to the request harshly. Rooster popping his head through before standing to attention.

“Admiral Bates, OS Spencer-Floyd.” Rooster stood to attention before you waved him down.

“At ease, what can we do for you lieutenant?” you questioned frustratedly, still trying to regulate your anger at the situation.

“May I have a word Radar? In private?” Roosters concern was as clear as day even in such a dimly lit room. It worried you instantly as you followed him out of the communications office into the corridor.

“What's wrong whats, hey–!” you hissed as Rooster dragged you down the hall into a nearby room. Empty. “Rooster!” You and Rooster had always been friendly, your dad knew his dad. They’d flown together on the SS Hammerlock, before Goose and Maverick were sent to Miramar. Having always known each other, always finding comfort in each other’s presents. Rooster had always had a hunch you and Robert Floyd were slightly more than then friends, especially after he’d seen you and Bob leaving the Hard Deck together late one night after a few too many beers on the old timer, and even more so once he’d seen the way you and Bob interacted on the beach. And his suspensions were almost one hundred percent confirmed when he’d caught you red handed doing “paperwork” with Bob in his bunk. Almost as if you were still on your honeymoon, totally consumed and infatuated with one another. You and Bob were always careful about your levels of public displays of affection—but sometimes? You had to sneak a kiss or two in. Or in this case, Take ever inch he could give. Rooster had always had his suspicions, you and Bob were somewhat glued to the hip, best friends. Husband and wife.

“It's Bob'' Rooster signed, his hands coming down to slide across his face, pulling at his skin. “It's Bob, Renee.” Your heart sunk into your stomach, shit he had training today didn't he? Did something go wrong? Was he okay? Fuck, you could feel your face heating up, your heartbeat began to race as your voice cracked.

“What's– what's Bob got to do with me?” you asked, still trying to keep your composure. “Wouldn't–”

“A call came in from the Miramar Hospital–” you stopped listening after you heard the word hospital. Question after question spiraled uncontrollably out of your mouth. Rooster had just so happened to be passing by the administration office on base, one of the receptionists had kindly asked him to go find you. Fill you in on the situation. You were lucky it was Rooster who had been passing by, not someone like Hangman who would have spread this shit like wildfire.

“Hospital? What do you mean hospital Rooster? What happened? Is Bob okay?--” your mood instantly shifting to panic mode. Rooster interrupted you by placing his hands over your shoulders, looking his eyes on yours as he spoke as calmly as he could. Trying to keep you from panicking too much, grounding you by touch.

“There was an accident during the training session, Bob and Phoenix had to eject, that's it, that's all, he's alive, he's in one piece, but a Dr. Chris? called looking for Floyds emergency contact Renee, said Bob had asked for his wife to be contacted?” Rooster let his question hang in the air as you tried to read his concern, ultimately landing on the only possible explanation. The truth. Pulling out your dog tags from your naval uniform, you showed Rooster your wedding band. “Holy Shit–”

“Spencer-Floyd, Rooster, it's not rocket science.” You chuckled to yourself as you shook your head. “But it sure wasn't hard to keep a secret.” you smirked, tucking your tags back into your uniform. “Now can you save your questions for when you drive me over to the hospital?”

“You want me to drive you?” Rooster questioned. “I just came in here for like—damage control you know, I thought you’d want this to stay under wraps?” You didn’t have to ask again as a small sob escaped your mouth before you covered it with shaky hands. Tears forming in your waterline. Rooster pressed his lips together, nodding gently. “Okay, okay, I’ll drive you, c’mon Radar—let’s get you outta here ma’am“ rooster scooped you inside his arm as he led you out.

“Fuck this hurts—“ you sobbed. “You said he’s okay right?” You mumbled through your breaking composure. Your head, hanging low. “I don’t think I could handle it if he wasn’t.” Your mind was wandering back through your life spent with Bob. A rolodex of memories playing through your mind, you couldn’t stop them—you didn’t want to stop them. “Bob—“ you sobbed a little louder this time.

“He’s okay, I promise I wouldn’t lie to you.” Rooster led you all the way out to his truck, opening the passenger side door for you like the true gentleman he was. “Mrs Floyd.” He gestured as he opened the door for you, noticing the small almost undetectable smirk on your face as he did so. “So—“ Rooster started his truck and got to work. “Why Bob? If you don’t mind me asking?” Rooster focused on the road ahead. His glasses dark against the sun of Miramar.

“Why Bob? Don’t you think that’s a loaded question?” You replied as you thought of an answer. Sniffling. “He’s just Bob, has been for years I guess. That’s kinda what drew me to him, his naturally reserved nature, the quietness, but boy is he smart and funny and oh, he hates reptiles and amphibians because they freak him out and it’s just—“ you caught yourself spewing your guts as Rooster smiled as he drove. “Sorry, too much.” You mumbled, looking out the window as the desert turned to small in a middle of nowhere town.

“Hey I asked, so please, continue.” Rooster gestured as you repositioned in your seat. Thinking about Bob, hoping he was without a single scratch. “Besides, now I know lizards are gonna be a good prank.”

“You know Bradley—“ you paused for a moment, remembering just how wonderful your wedding day was. An elopement in your parents backyard with your family and Bobs. So simple and so small but exactly how you pictured it. “Someday, someone is gonna come into your life….and they are going to love every single atom of your being. They’re gonna adore every little thing about you. The way that you eat, the way that you smell, the way that you put your cold toes on them in the bed when they’re nice and toasty.” You turned to face Rooster, knowing it never really worked with anyone before. “And it’s gonna make so much sense why it never really worked with anyone else.”

“Does Bob love every atom of your being?’ Rooster replied as he turned the next corner. Nodding gentle re responded quietly.

“Every single one, so if he's not okay, please–”

“I know as much as you do Radar, he's alive.” Rooster cooed letting the silence linger for a moment before he was at it again. “So like, what's with the ginger and rice?” you couldn't help but to break out into a loud obnoxious laugh, looking over your shoulder at Rooster who wore curiosity well.

“It's an old wise tail, fresh ginger and white rice, apparently it helps settle your stomach.”

“Why doesn't he just eat a banana if he's got a weak constitution?” Rooster countered.

“Why would he eat a banana?” you questioned. Smirking as you waited for Rooster to reply with surely some smart ass remark.

“It tastes the same coming up as it did going down.”

——————

The moment you stepped foot into the general admissions area of the Miramar hospital, every single pair of eyes turned to look at you as you stood a few inches short of Rooster. Stopping dead in your tracks as you faced the class of Top Gun, all wearing the same expression of confusion on their faces.

What the hell is the OS doing here?

“Go, ill do my best to cover–” Rooster leaned in and whispered softly in your ear. Nodding with your lips pressed together, you headed over to the nurses station, Rooster heading towards a very curious class.

“I'm looking for Robert Floyd?” you were quiet in your request to the nurse who sat behind the glass. Chewing her gum that was probably the only thing she had time to eat in the past nine and a half hours. But you weren't quiet enough for the prying ears of Hangman, who’d somehow managed to slip past Rooster and follow you over to the nurses station, lingering behind you as you spoke. “Im his wife–”

“I'm sorry, what did you just say?” Hangman's voice scared the shit out of you, causing you to jump in fright as you turned to face him. Looking at Rooster over his shoulder, all he could do was shrug his shoulders in defeat.

Good one you idiot, you couldn't help but to sigh his way.

“Since when are you and Bob married, since when does Bob talk to girls, he barely talks to me?”

“Why would anyone willingly talk to you Hangman?” Rooster chimed in, coming to your defense. “In this moment Radar is still our OS, know your rank before you dig yourself a deeper hole to climb out of man.” Rooster turned to you, jerking his head slightly to tell you to leave. Wasting no time, you turned on your heels and ran down the hall, counting the room numbers that passed you by. The group followed shortly behind.

“What the hell is going on here?” Coyote questioned, all he was here for was to check up on Phoenix and Bob, his head wasn't processing why you were here. This didn't seem like a situation you as an OS needed to be involved in. “Why's radar he– oh damn, Bob pulled.” The group went absolutely silent as they finally reached Bob's room, you'd flung yourself over him as he laid in his hospital bed, sitting up with the covers pulled up over his legs reading some random book one of the nurses gave him. A true library dweller.

“You scared the hell outta me Bob!” you whispered into the crook of his neck, letting go as he groaned from the pressure you'd placed on his stomach, your eyes growing wide at the face he pulled. “What, what have I not been told?”

“It's nothing i promise, i'm good.” Bob led. “Just a few broken ribs to remember the moment.” you audibly gasped, sitting back in the chair you'd wasted no time in pulling to his bedside.

“I was in the command office, I didn't know you'd been in an accident–” you tried your best to explain, Bobs hand came to rest over yours, squeezing softly.

“Not a serious one, I'm all good here bub, you don't have to worry.” Bob was calmer than you, more level headed, if only you'd seen the way he reacted in the backseat of Phoenix's aircraft this morning. Then you wouldn't have thought he was so level headed. “I'm still here, hey i'm not going anywhere, without you by my side.” Bob cooed, his hand lifting your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against your palm.

“This was too close this time–” you held back your tears, taking a deep breath and looking up to the ceiling. “Too close Bob, I hate the feeling I got when Rooster told me a call came in from Miramar hospital, I hate the emptiness and the not knowing if you were really okay.”

“Its our job Radar.” you smirked at the call sign, Bob never really called you by your call sign when it was just the two of you. “It's the risk we take.”

“Yeah but you aren't a job to me, you're my best friend, my husband for god sakes, every other person waiting out there is a job to me, but they still have friends and family who love them, who need them to be safe.” you explained as you looked into Bob's eyes, swimming with love for you. “You are and will never be a job to me, the quicker you understand that, Lieutenant, the quicker we can be on the same page going forward.” Bob chuckled as you leaned in to place a small and gentle kiss against his lips. Smirking against yours as he chuckled. The moment pure and fleeting, the way Bobs lips felt against yours was like a drug you’d become addicted to.

“Yes ma’am, understood.” Bob kissed you back a little harder, a little hungrier for the taste of you after having faced the possibility of never coming home to you again. “Not a job—“ silence fell over the pair of you as you pulled back, sinking into your chair with a sigh of relief. Knowing Bob was truly okay had you let out a breath of air you didn’t know you’d been holding in. Looking at the love of your life so vulnerable lying in that hospital bed when he was usually way up in the sky.

“I never told you this—“ you began, feeling a presence behind you, Rooster, Hangman, Coyote. “But I was in love with you long before I first told you.” It was an admission to the audience that had formed behind you, not just to Bob. “Hell, I’m pretty sure before you were sent to Top Gun the first time.”

“Renee—“ Bob tried to interrupt, but you kept speaking.

“From the very first second I saw you smile at me, I knew I was hooked for the rest of my life.” You let out a small chuckle. Looking at Bob looking at you. “If you ever don’t come home, that’s it, I’m nothing without you—so if you and Phoenix end up flying this mission, you better come home to me or I’ll be furious with you Robert Floyd.” You chuckled together, Bob nodding in response as his eyes wandered to the crowd behind you.

“I gather you’ve all met my wife?” Bob smirked at his team. Jaws wide open in shock. Questions after questions rattling around in their brains. “This doesn’t change a single thing—“

“It absolutely does Bob.” Hangman pushed forward. “How do we know you won’t go on this mission because dear old Radar here puts in a good word? Huh?” You scoffed in disbelief. “It all makes way too much sense now—“

“If I had it my way none of you would be flying this mission especially Bob—it’s a suicide mission Hangman.” You hissed, standing from where you sat next to your husband. “Day in day out, all I do is run this damn mission, over and over again and it’s never good enough to keep you from being the latest naval statistic.” You groaned. “Not even your egotistical arse.”

“It’s true—“ Rooster chimed in. “I heard Radar kinda giving Admiral Bates a piece of her mind before I knocked, they want us to run a time of two fifteen—Radar wants to push for more.” You stood silent, squaring your shoulders at Hangman who grit his teeth, looking down at you slightly as he towered over you.

“Let’s not forget, I’ve never left a single soul out to dry, we all know if Bob had been in your backseat he wouldn’t be here right now, so don’t test my limits lieutenant—Bob might be my husband but I know for damn sure he’s just a worthy as you think you are to be chosen for this ridiculous mission, he doesn’t need me blowing smoke up his ass—hence why we don’t disclose our relationship publicly.” You couldn’t help but let your emotions get to you. This whole situation had you sick to your stomach. Especially since you’d already had a blow out with Lieutenant Seresin previously.

“There’s more than one way to fly this mission—“ it was the combination of Rooster’s low baritone, the seriousness in his tone and the way his eyes held a deeper need for validation that had you standing a little taller, shoulders a little more pulled back. Mavrick had just told Phoenix to have a good enough excuse to tell Bob‘s family why she didn’t anticipate the next turn. One they would accept at the funeral. It got to you, got to Bob.

“How do you propose we go about it?“ pilot input was always incredibly important to you, especially when designing and coordinating mission flight sequencing. As Rooster looked you dead in the eyes ready to explain, Hangman couldn’t shut his mouth to save his own life.

“You really don’t get it—“ he hissed, turning to Rooster. “On a mission like this a man flies like Maverick here, or a man does not come back.” Chewing his gun too obnoxiously for your liking, Hangman took the moment to turn to where Phoenix sat. “No offence intended.”

“And yet somehow? You always manage—“ You smirked at how instinctively Bob had Natasha’s back. Smirking softly as you peered his way, making eye contact with your husband as he turned back to face you at the front of the class. Smirking back, Bob lowered his head to focus. “You’ve left two of your wingmen behind in the past 72hrs—“

“Three—“ you corrected Bob. “The back seater is included in Hangman’s casualty list.” Bob could hear the sadness in your tone the way you looked at him like he hung every single star in the sky just for you. It was hard to hide the disappointment you felt that someone who was meant to look out for your husband would leave him behind. “Three lives lost and for what? A failed mission.”

“There’s a reason why Bob here is a black seater.” Hangman interrupted, managing your expectations of him. “You have to be at least this tall to sit upfront.” It was childish, The way Hangman held his hand about three centimeters above the ground. “Isn’t that right Bobby Boy?”

“Don’t take this out on me, your egos been all out of whack since Radar turned you down at the Hard Deck—“ you were Bob's wife, point blank.

“It is absolutely imperative that you act like a team, a family, for this mission, otherwise? someone won’t come home, and you’ll have to carry that weight. Every day, every night.” You explained with as much seriousness as you could muster. Finding a slight gap before Hangman could make a comeback. “I can’t stress that enough.”

“It’s not my problem they can’t keep up—“ Hangman smirked, sinking into his chair as he tapped his own against his paper. That was probably then when your final very thin straw broke.

“Hangman—“ you began, walking closer as the heels clicked against the concrete of the empty hanger turned classroom. Arms behind you. “What is it that you think is so special about you that puts your life above every other person in this room?” You questioned, leaning in over his desk as you got in his face. “Because quite frankly the way I see it is those people who can’t keep up will end up being the ones who save your sorry ass when you take a wrong turn and end up needing support—“

“It’s incredibly hard to take advice from a non-combatant.” Hangman hissed. Bob's ears pricked as he sat up a little straighter.

“Watch it Bagman—“ Bob grumbled. “Radars—“ Bob went in to defend you, but before he could? Hangman was interrupting with a snicker.

“Oh sorry Floyd, don’t you think your girlfriend here can’t handle it?” Hangman teased, chewing his bottom lip as he turned back to you. Standing tall once again. “C’mon sunshine don’t pretend you can roll with the big boys.” You chuckled, smirking slightly as you looked around to the class—all eyes on you including Mavericks.

“Lieutenant Seresin, I have zero tolerance for pilots who think reckless endangerment is a damn personality trait.” You spoke firmly. “If there isn’t a dramatic attitude change in the next five seconds I will make sure come hell or high water you will be removed from this program no matter who good you think you are, and I will make sure that no commanding officer will want to work with you—“ spied briefly, leaning in once again. “Do I make myself clear?” You hissed through gritted teeth. It was completely silent on Hangmana behalf, you could hear a feather drop. “Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear!?” You shouted.

“Yes OS!” Hangman repeated. Sinking into his set. Turning on your heels you Gave Maverick and all knowing look—he knew it and you knew it more, Jake Seresin wasn’t the right fit to fly this mission.

“C’mon hangman, we all know it’s just the ego taking—“ Bob interrupted. “All those times you’ve made a move and yet somehow, you never noticed she was taken.” Bob chuckled.

“If you weren’t in a hospital bed right now I’d put you in one—“ Hangman hissed, you held your hand out against his chest—stepping in front of his path towards Bob.

“Don’t make this worse, walk it off—that’s an order.” Your eyes were cold as ice as you ordered Hangman to step outside. “Go—“ Bob watched on as you used your authority. It kinda got him going. Never really one to see you get so worked up. But the two most recent times he’d been present for? Had blood rushing to parts he only wished you had some time to give attention to. “You guys should go see Phoenix, I’m sure she’s waiting for you guys to check in on her?” It was more of an order than anything else. You wanted Bob all to yourself for a moment.

“Jesus—“ you sighed, sitting back into your chair, pulling yourself as close to Bob as you could. “What am I gonna do? I’m past damage control, this is a bloody shit show!” You groaned, your index finger and thumb coming to squeeze the bridge of your nose, releasing some pressure. Bob couldn’t help but to try and lighten to mood, smirking as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“Would this be a bad time for me to mention I’m totally one hundred percent attracted to the way you just put Hangman in his place?”

***~***~***~***~**~

[lemmetreatya]

Hi

Imagine:

CEO!character interviews you and you think it‘s not going well. but you really need that job

Inspired by your driving instructor!nanami (really loved that btw)

thank you sm for appreciating it!! hopefully this leads up to its expectations lol <33 ref: driving instructor!nanami

ceo!toji who doesn’t usually have any hand in the interviewing process for his off-the-ground start up tech company, but concerning his recruitment manager has been off sick for a while, had to intervene.

ceo!toji who almost bursts out in hubristic laughter once he sees your resume up next because no fucking way little ol’ heavily under-qualified you had the audacity to step foot into his business and apply for the very senior role of director.

but then maybe ceo!toji’ is proved wrong because when he sees you enter his office; shirt fastened from the third button down, trousers firmly hugging your waist and lip gloss sparkly pink, he thinks you may stand a fighting chance. there’s just something about the way you compose yourself that even made him entertain your interview. your confidence and spunk helping you act a part you were so determined you could play. if anything, ceo!toji is left excited at the new prospects you could offer not just him, but his child — his company.

“look, i see your passion — and it’s the type i want for someone who’s going to be the new visionary for my company — but passion alone s’just not gonna cut it, ya know?” you perceive that ceo!toji isnt mildly convinced by you in the slightest by the fixed look on his face.

as you imagine the worst, a flash of uncertainty runs through your chest and you panic for his verdict. you couldn’t let him rule you out over simple paperwork and you couldn’t take another dead end. you needed this job and you knew you had what it took to sustain it.

“i promise, my performance will make up for the lack of qualifications! you just need to give me a chance.”

“give you a chance, huh?”

the buzz word makes ceo!toji slightly perk up and you couldnt help see that opportunity as a sign of hope.

“yes! anything to prove myself!”

“you sure about that?” he carefully gauges and you can only nod desperately.

its no surprise then when you find yourself with the flush of your back glued against ceo!toji’s desk, your ankles dangling by his ears as he viciously fucks into you and your eyes rolling towards the back of your head.

“go on! prove yourself now, eh?!”

ceo!toji is merciless with how he surges himself pass every crevice of your opening, his hands not missing the perks of your chest as he twiddles and pinches at your nipples.

“talkin’ all that fuckin’ smack earlier and now look? can’t even take a lil dick.”

your moans are almost tearful, arm covering over your drool slicked mouth as you attempt to quieten your voice — but ceo!toji doesn’t let you! before moving your arm, he bends you in half enough so that he could curl over you and demand you open your mouth. once your lips are slack and pushing out easy thrusts, he spits a waddle of saliva into your mouth before easily instructing: “swallow” straight after.

honestly, fuck him because he didn’t even offer you the job in the end. but you do, however, receive a text through his company automative service that tells you that you have a follow-up interview with him the very next day.

[sxfterhearts]

10:49pm - late night calls.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ idol!jiung x reader ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

♡ genre/warnings: fluff inspired by late night calls mv ♡

♡ word count: 1,219 words

♡ summary: late night calls - p1h

♡ author’s note: just a short one i smashed out tonight bc choi jiung is so lovely and i am falling head over heels for the p1h boys ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ also pics cred to the lovely tumblr owners!!!

//

“Jiung, sparkly heart shape, mouse emoji, is calling. Pick it up.” Siri’s automated voice filtered through your wired headphones, causing you to grind your skateboard to a halt. You hefted the newly purchased skateboard and rested it against your thigh, no easy feat.

Your heart thudded dully against your chest with a quickening tempo that exceeded the vibrations of your default iPhone ringtone. This was the first ever call you’ve received from your boyfriend of two months, and you were not sure how to act.

With the timidness of a baby mouse, your fingers tightly grasped your phone and swiped across the screen. “Hello?” You said, almost in a whisper, small and uncertain.

“Y/N? Ah, you picked up.” Jiung’s familiar voice sounded in your ears, as though he was standing right next to you. It wasn’t as clear and crisp as you would’ve liked though, as you could just make out the distant blares of sirens and car horns in the faraway background.

“Jiung. What time is it? Isn’t it late for you? Have you eaten? How was the show? What are you up to?” The questions tumbled past your lips before you had a chance to stop them.

“Woah, calm down.” Jiung teased, a deep chuckle drifting out of his lips, straight past your earphones and into your heart. You could almost feel the rumble of his chest as he took a second to compose himself. “Eager, aren’t we?”

“I mean,” You mumbled, more to yourself than to him. “It’s the first time we’ve called, after all…”

“That’s right, I didn’t think of that.” He replied thoughtfully. “Well, to answer your questions in order: it is currently 10:49pm, so not too late as we’re still adjusting to the timezones. We had galbijjim at this super popular spot in KoreaTown that was twice the size of any galbijjim I’ve ever seen in Korea and absolutely flooded with cheese. Oh, and the show was great, as usual. I’ll send you some cool videos of myself after this. And I’m not up to much. Some of the kids wanted to go for a stroll to get a glimpse of the New York night life, but I’m feeling pretty tired. Keeho is helping our manager with the logistics for our next tour stop. Theo is watching videos and being very loud, as usual. I’m just…”

“Where are you? Inside? It must be cold at night.”

“No. Yes? Sort of? Well,” You could hear Jiung’s soft grunts as he shuffled around in the background, getting comfortable. “I’m sitting on a windowsill. Trust me, it’s not as dangerous as it sounds. You know how in all those old American movies; the New York apartments that always have those tiny balconies with fire escapes? Yeah, I’m just sitting on that, getting a bit of the night air.”

“Wow, that sounds so cool.” You couldn’t help the wonderstruck grin that made its way onto your lips. “I wish I could take a photo of that.”

“Yeah? I’ll take a selfie and send one to you then.” Jiung answered.

“Or we could just video call?” You suggested, somewhat apprehensively.

“We could, of course, but that’s not as fun, is it?” Jiung countered, ever so gently, conscious to not leave you feeling rejected. “I’d love to see your pretty face and all, but I feel like the voice-only call is a lot more intimate, no? You can only hear my voice, and the rest is up to your imagination. It’s kinda romantic. Like a romantic late-night call.”

You nodded, cheeks reddening up even at the slightest things – like how he called you pretty, or how he was trying to create a romantic atmosphere for the two of you. The relationship was so fresh, and every little thing felt like it was big enough to make your heart pound right out of its chest. “Yeah,” You agreed breathlessly, momentarily forgetting that he can’t see you. “I guess it is.”

“So, what’s my girl doing at this hour?”

Your stomach did several somersaults, and you took a small breath to calm yourself before answering, “I’m at the Han River. It’s around noon, and I’m just practicing a bit of skateboarding before I meet my friends later. We’re going to watch a movie and hang out at a café. Oh, and I had kimbap for lunch. At the place you recommended!” At the mention of food, you immediately got excited. “It was so good! I had the tuna wasabi and special tonkatsu ones. And the kimbap ahjumma was so nice, she gave me a free drink!”

“Did she? I’m glad then. She probably knows that I recommended you – she’s always giving me free service when I go with the boys.” Jiung smiled at the thought of you visiting his favourite kimbap spot and happily eating your food. You were going around to the places he frequents in Seoul and leaving your mark there, making your own memories. It warmed his insides to think that when he got back, you could both visit those places together and create new, precious memories. “Oh, but skateboarding? Are you on your own?”

“Yup! I’m getting pretty good now, Ji! Not as good as you, of course, but I’m starting to get the hang of it.” You reported back proudly, grip tightening around your skateboard, pink and sparkly, just like the bows in your pigtails.

“I’m proud of you, but Y/N,” Jiung audibly sucked in a breath, “Isn’t that a bit dangerous? What if you fall? Who’s gonna help you up when I’m not there?”

You giggled in response. That was your Jiung, always poised to help you if you ever needed him and constantly ready at your beck and call. “I’ll be fine! I swear. I don’t even go as fast.”

“Okay, well promise me you’ll go slow and try not to do anything too crazy. I’ll teach you more when I get back.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smiled sweetly, gazing out at the serene view of the Han River, secretly wishing that your beloved was not on the other side of the world so you could share this view with him.

“Twenty more days, Y/N…” Jiung muttered, almost as if he read your mind through the phone. “Twenty more days, four hundred and eighty more hours, twenty-eight thousand and eight hundred more minutes, and way more seconds before I can see you again, my love. Just twenty days, but why does it feel so far away?” He said rhetorically.

“I know,” You pouted in response. “I miss you heaps, Ji.”

“Me too, baby. I promise when I get back, we’ll get – ”

“Pizza! There’s this new place in Itaewon I really wanna try.”

Jiung laughed heartedly. “Okay, we’ll get pizza in Itaewon, and go for a skate along the river. And have a ramyeon and kimbap picnic at the park for dinner. How does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

//

Jiung: Sent a photo [11:17pm]

Y/N: I’ve seen this!! Woahhh Choi Jiung, are you Korea’s next Justin Beiber? [11:17pm]

Jiung: (¬◾_◾) I’m just cool like that. [11:18pm]

Y/N: I also saw you tearing up at the ending ment… [11:18pm]

Y/N: So precious (╥ ω ╥) [11:18pm]

Jiung is typing…

Jiung: Hey! I… I was just emotional, okay (｡>﹏<) [11:20pm]

[cupidzone]

˚꒰ 🏹 DISCORD FORUMS TUTORIAL♡

i'm not sure if people have seen or tested out the forums on discord but i thought i'd make a tutorial on how i use it for roleplaying since i found it super fun and helpful for organization purposes!

so what are forums? discord describes it as "a space for organized discussions". much like threads, the discussions can be contained in one post which makes it easy to keep your topics in order. the part that i find most useful is that you can organize your post by tags and filter through them! now in order to get forums in your server, you will have to enable 'Community' on your server. so let's start!

♡ . ) first thing you'll do is open your server setting. there will be an 'Enable Community' that you can click on and it will take you to a page like this

♡ . ) once you click 'Get Started' it will take you through a series of questions and system settings. you will need at least one "default channel" where discord will send automated updates. this channel is necessary if you want to use forums.

if you continue with the default settings, discord will automatically create two channels for you: one titled 'rules' and another titled 'moderators-only'. the announcements made whenever there's an update as mentioned above will be sent to the latter.

NOTE FROM CUPID ! i personally like to make a single channel titled something like 'updates' and keep it locked. this can be done before or after enabling community, you will just need to change the settings to go to the new channel first.

♡ . ) once you have community enable, you're free to make all the forums you want! when you go to create a new channel, 'forums' will show up as an option like this

for this example, i'm going to show how i set up my muses' profiles for 1x1 writing server like a roster, but you can also do this for single muse / threads / sms / etc.

♡ . ) when you click into the forums channel you created, you will see a landing page like this. there are instructions on how to navigate the channel as well so feel free to read those as well! the first thing i like to do is create tags. you can open that setting by clicking either of these buttons.

(navigate to the 'Tags' section and click 'Create Tag' if you need to) it will open a popup box like this. i like to create a tag for every muse that i want to add to my roster and you're able to add 20 tags!

when you're finished, they will be listed as you see below. there are other options in forums settings that you can play around with including a 'default reaction' emoji, 'slowmode', layout and sorting option, age restriction and 'hide after inactivity'. all these are based on preference!

♡ . ) once you've saved your setting changes, you can leave this page and are now able to make your posts by clicking 'New Post' on the upper right hand corner.

this is where you're pretty much able to do whatever suits your style including formatting how you like and adding photos, all you need to make sure to do is add the corresponding tag to the post! once you're finished making it look how you want, you can click 'Post'

they will appear in the channel like this!

♡ . ) and by clicking on a post, you will be able to open it in a side view like this. if you want to see the post in full view, you will click the three dots in the upper right hand corner of the side view and then choose 'Open in Full View'.

you're now able to add more messages within the post! for me, i like to add stats of my muses and headcanons that may be useful when i thread.

NOTE FROM CUPID ! one set back i found is that you are not able to use threads within a forum post so it may get a bit cluttered depending on what you send in a forum post. so if you are wanting multiple different sections for one topic, i suggest creating a forum instead. for example, if you are wanting to add musings, faceclaim pics, headcanons and stats all for one muse, i would create a single forum post just for that muse instead to avoid having important info getting lost!

and that pretty much covers how i use forums for discord rp! i encourage you to play around with it to find a style and format that best works for you. and if you have any questions, you're more than welcome to send it to my inbox. happy writing everyone♡♡♡

[not-terezi-pyrope]

When I think reflectively about it, I realize that pretty much nothing has damaged my outlook on the world and hope for the future more than the recognition over the past few years that the seeming majority opinion is that automation is bad and meaningfully transforming our economy is a lost cause, to the extent that the working class will actively and aggressively lobby against technological improvements (even beyond the example of AI/ML...)

I don't agree with this assessment and have argued against it lots, but it's clear that I'm in a small minority among my political allies (i.e., leftists, who recognize that there is a problem with our current lives in the first place). Just a few years ago I was naive enough to assume that "automation leads to less work allows us to collectively downsize the workforce and socialize human needs while increasing abundance" was an obvious and noncontroversial progression.

Now even I'm doubting if we'll ever get there, and that's despite trying my damnedest to argue from a position of optimism. Because the fact is that if nobody believes we can make change then change won't happen, and the recognition that that's a plausible future has made me noticeably more cynical and misanthropic. I don't think that society is a lost cause, but the way that leftist orthodoxy is becoming capitalist realism and scapegoating of the technology sector is driving me there fast.

I can't stop thinking that the potential for a better future I see out there is beautiful, but I can sure as hell get more angry and callous as people refuse to reach out for what's there to be taken. Honestly if we do fail to make the leap then maybe that is proof positive of a fatal flaw in humanity.

I recognize that the issue most people are struggling with is the short term labour market disruption from things like automation, but honestly I don't believe that "dismantling capitalism first" is really a feasible option, society only responds to extant pressure and sometimes I am just like, "the best and maybe only way to make change is to create the conditions where it is intolerable not to follow the path of least resistance, by making the impact of not doing that tangible". Maybe an interim period where a bunch of people lose jobs is worth that, revolution has never exactly been easy. Or maybe I'm just being callous, but my point is that it's harder not to be these days. I thought this would all be so much easier before it came to the point of it.

I hope I don't become doompilled past the point of no return. I need to believe there's a better way for the world to be. I need to believe that we can improve people's lives more than we might damage them in the attempt.

I need to believe we can not re-elect the fucking Tories this year for once.

[b7ngt4n]

The Last Remaining | Part 01

-> South Korea was left abandoned after a 'zombie' virus sweeps the nation. Left to save themselves, Y/N and a group of seven men, who she's found safety in, rely on each other to stay alive as they travel south of the country for a rumoured 'z-free' haven. But nothing is ever easy. Especially when they find it's not only just zombies they need to watch their backs for.

-> A female reader x BTS zombie apocalypse AU

-> Genre: Post-apocalyptic, action

-> Warnings for Part 1: Violence, gore, swearing

-> Word count: 2,071 words

-> Interactions are greatly appreciated xoxo 💖

Part 01: A Month Ago 🧟

A month ago, the nation of South Korea fell to its knees. A deadly virus swept through the country, killing every human it came in contact with and mutating them into flesh-fiending, viciously-violent creatures, fictionally known as zombies.

The outbreak spread fast through Seoul, turning half of the civilians here into zombies within 24 hours. Rumours were that outbreaks happened in Busan, Gwangju, and Daegu before the Seoul outbreak even started. Everything happened within a matter of hours. Nobody had any time to react, you had to fight for your life within the blink of an eye. Even the government was left dumbfounded.

They deployed military power to try and control the outbreaks. However, the number of zombies soon outnumbered the number of military personnel. Eventually, there was no stopping the virus as it just grew out of control.

It was too late for the government to issue martial law. They knew there was no use putting up a fight they knew they couldn't win. Instead they moved onto plan B: evacuation. Your TV was only able to play a singular automated voice message that repeated, 'All of South Korea is currently being affected by the 'Zombie' virus. The government advises you to stay indoors and wait for evacuation processes to be initiated.' And by evacuation, you heard they evacuated the entire Blue House, the closest schools, and the closest retirement villages. You watched choppers fly from Incheon, none of which you saw ever once stopped to evacuate other buildings. That's when you knew the government was absolute bullshit. They didn't bother to try save anyone else. They didn't want to risk it.

You heard the evacuation camp was set up somewhere in Incheon, which made sense because of the helicopters. But you later heard the camp was overridden by the virus only three days later. You never heard choppers flying around ever again. With no government left to guide you, all hope for survival was lost. A week later, the power in your complex stopped running. Matter of fact, you're sure the power for the entire city stopped. Phones stopped working a day after the outbreak so you couldn't call for help. And with food in your apartment running low, you knew your survival rate was plummeting lower by the day.

You were lucky that you only lived on the 5th floor. You had been watching the streets closely the past month. It used to be very busy with screams, growls, tyre screeches, and running footsteps. You even used to be able to hear zombie groans at night. But recently you noticed how quiet it has been. You see a zombie slowly roaming around every now and then but you haven't seen many alive humans. You wonder if everyone else had just left while they could. The more you think about leaving, the more you think 'fuck it, let's do it'. Could it be worse out there? Absolutely. But would you rather die from starvation or die trying to survive?

There was a convenience store just a street down. If you were lucky, you could make it there and hopefully there would be food waiting for you. You just had to be quick. You could do that. You used to be in the track team in high school and a regular gym goer. You can be quick.

"This should be a piece of cake," you encouraged yourself, but the entire time you were screaming at yourself 'what the fuck are you doing?' Only you were hunger-driven enough to go out into a bloody zombie apocalypse to get cup noodles.

You changed into a zip up hoodie and a pair of gym tights, tying your hair into a low ponytail and lacing up in running shoes. You put on your old elbow pads and knee pads from when you were in your rollerblading phase for protection. You also tucked away a pocket knife in your bra. As you were sliding your backpack on, you started having second thoughts. Was this really worth it? Would you really risk dying out there rather than safely at the comfort of your own home? Your life was in your hands but it seemed that any choice you would make could have you dead. You had to at least try. You believed in yourself, you believed you could get there if you tried hard enough. Gripping a baseball bat in one hand and the door knob in the other, you took a deep breath. Carefully unlocking the door, you opened it a small inch, enough for you to peek an eye out into the lobby. It was empty to your relief. You didn't hesitate to make a move, locking your apartment and bidding it a sad farewell.

You jumped to find a zombie lurking around the elevator lobby. It turned around the moment it heard your footsteps, snarling loudly at you. You recognised it to be Mrs Lim, a sweet elderly woman who lived next door to you. You would watch her cats for her whenever she went out of town to visit her daughter. Your heart broke to see her once-white skin drained of colour, her eyes not the usual dark brown but a mustard yellow, and her teeth was covered in dry blood. You didn't have any time to decide what to do about her as she came charging toward you.

"Why does the first zombie I come across have to be you Mrs Lim!" you protested as you held the baseball bat horizontally, keeping a distance between you and her. She was strong for an old lady, well half old lady half zombie, but strong enough to have you sliding back on the tiles. You noticed down the lobby on the other side of the complex were a couple other zombies. They had already noticed you and were rushing towards you.

"Shit!" you cursed, "sorry Mrs Lim," you quickly apologised before kicking her as hard as you could in the stomach. She groaned, stumbling backwards, tripping over her own feet, and falling to the ground. You didn't waste time, opening the door to the stairwell and making sure to lock it behind you.

There were no zombies in the staircase. Though the apartment did feel different without the lights on. You couldn't imagine how much of a struggle it'd be to do this at night without the power working. You had to make sure you were back home at least before the sun set.

A few zombies filled the entrance lobby. You instantly recognised one of them to be another resident who you saw around often and another one of them to be a security guard. You noticed a taser in his holster, something you deemed could be useful to you. They all turned around the moment you opened the door and came rushing towards you. You hit them in the heads with the bat as hard as you could, occasionally using your foot to kick them back whenever they got too close. They all fell to the floor after a good fight from you. You mutter a sorry to them and took the opportunity to steal the security guard's taser and tuck it safely away in your bag, whispering your extra apologies to him.

You hadn't been outside in a month. It felt weird to be back all of a sudden at a place you used to come through everyday. Blood that was smeared on the glass doors made you cringe. You checked the coast. All you could see was the apartment's front garden and the street through the gates. So far, everything was zombie-free. But you don't let your guard down just yet.

Drops of old blood stained the pavement. What was once a nice garden now looks outgrown and somewhat sat on. You could smell the faint stench of dried blood and what you assumed was the smell of dead flesh. The entrance water fountain you thought was so pretty was no longer squirting out water and the water was coloured red. 'Gross' you thought to yourself.

The street was nothing different. Cars were littered all over the place, some had actually looked like they crashed into poles, some were also open. You wondered for a second if you could check the ones that were open out but you also did fear it was only a matter of time before a zombie found you. One car you passed had crashed into a light pole and inside laid a dead rotten woman in the drivers seat. You would have never seen stuff like this before the outbreak. You feel sad for that lady. Who knows how long she had been sitting there? And who knows how much longer she'll be left like that?

Loud snarls made you stop in your tracks. You pressed your back against the concrete wall and peeked slowly around the corner. A quick count of at least 7 zombies were within a 20 metre radius. They blocked the entrance to the convenience store. There were bound to be more too, ones that were hidden in your blind spots. There was no way you could take on all of them.

You noticed a half empty water bottle lying on the floor. Then you had an idea. You snatched it up, crawling behind cars to get closer to the herd without getting spotted. The sounds of their groans terrified you as it grew louder the closer you got. You chucked the water bottle the opposite way as far as you could. It landed on the bumper of a car, sounding its alarm. The loud horn attracted the zombies instantly. They turned around, racing to the source of the sound snarling loudly at it. It was loud enough to probably attract every zombie within a 100 metre radius which would definitely be more zombies than you can handle. But at least you got them distracted. As soon as the coast was clear, you dashed towards the convenience store. Luckily it was unlocked.

The store was a mess. Products littered the ground but the store would was at least half filled. You guess the store could've been looted a couple of times but it's likely this mess was caused the day of the outbreak. You noticed it was also quiet. No snarls, no groans. That was a good sign. You felt a little at ease.

Canned soup, instant noodles, granola bars, biscuits, water bottles. All the foods you have been craving were here in this very room. You have been longing for this moment. You shoved whatever wasn't expired and would likely last a long time into your bag. You noticed your favourite flavour of Doritos 'Sweet Thai Chilli' sitting on the shelf, untouched and not expired yet. You didn't wait to eat these back at home and decided to open one now, your stomach grumbling at the sight. You walked down the aisles like you used to late at night before. It felt wrong to be looting and in a way stealing. You were friends with the owners, a nice old couple ran the store with the occasional help from their daughter. It felt wrong to steal from them. But then again, it was the apocalypse.

Just as you turned down into the end aisle alongside all the freezers of frozen food and cold drinks, a zombie jumped out from the corner, taking you by surprise.

You yelped, flinging the Doritos out your hands by accident. Just in time, you managed to wedge the baseball bat between its teeth, keeping it from biting you. But it was way stronger than you, quickly trapping you between a freezer and itself. You tried to kick your feet at it but it was difficult in the position you were in. The more you tried, the more stronger it pushed against your bat, closing the threatening distance between you both.

You heard the stabbing sound before the zombie stopped moving. A knife had been plunged through the back of its head. The sharp tip stuck out through its forehead, nearly knocking you in the process. You heaved its heavy body off of you to reveal a muscular, middle-aged, man standing behind it. Behind him was a skinnier but taller and younger man. You assumed the two to be friends.

"Thank you" you breathed out, all your energy gone as you lean against the freezer to catch your breath.

The middle-aged man chuckled, an eerie smile that gave you chills appearing on his face, "Anytime sweetheart."

His smile was the last thing you saw before you felt a bash to the head and your world went dark.

(a/n: forgive me ik! "no bts in the first chapter?" "what a shit fucking story!" i know i know 😔😔 i promise it’s development 🙏🙏 appearances begin in the nxt chapter)

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

I’m Stuck! | Ettore Crackfic

Summary: Ettore happens upon you, completely stuck in the doors of the Box and will help you out on one condition | Word Count : 1.1k~ | Warnings below the cut~

A/N: you should all completely blame @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for this bc this is...something man (but also loved that u peer pressured me into this). I’m not even gonna put my taglist here, saving you all cos truly idek what to say lol, this is going deep on the masterlist <3 ily 

Warnings: terrible dialogue, porn-level sex, stuck!trope, ass slapping, p in v sex, creampie

Nobody told him that being stuck on a weird prison spaceship would make a man indecently horny 24/7.

 The last few times Ettore had ventured down to the Box, it had been occupied. So he was made to wait to have a wank.

 What decent man has to wait just to tug the flesh snake? he thinks, as he makes his way down the ladder, huffing a sigh, knowing that it’s likely to be occupied again.

 He swings his arms as he walks towards the device nestled in the corner of the dark hallway, his eyes on his feet. It’s been probably a solid…few hours since he last had a tug, so he’s likely to be pent up again.

 He stops right in his tracks when his eyes meet the funniest fucking thing he’s seen in a while.

 It’s just a body without a head and shoulders, an ass poking out of the Box’s doors. He barely even recognises her without seeing her face, but her annoyed sounds give it away.

 “What the fuck are you doing?” he laughs, probably the first genuine smile he’s cracked in a while.

 Her hands struggle with the sides of the automated door that are pressed against her middle, “What does it fucking look like! I’m stuck, you idiot!”

 A half-restrained chuckle leaves him, before it evolves into genuine hysterical laughter. The kind that makes tears cover his eyes and makes his stomach hurt.

 "Will you shut the fuck up and help me?" She says, annoyed. He can imagine how embarrassed she must look, though he can’t see her face.

 He wipes his eyes, composing himself, "You know what? I'm tempted not to. This is too funny"

 She grunts annoyed, still trying to pull her top half free from the doors. God, it’d be so easy to help her. Push one button and the doors would open. It’s like those horrible pornos he used to watch where some girl would be stuck head first in a washing machine or something. And her ‘step-brother’ would happen upon her.

 He bites his lip at the thought. And feels his dick get hard.

 Maybe there was an alternative to the Box.

 A more, fulfilling one.

 She tenses up notably, when he presses his clothed erection against her ass, “That better not be what I think it is”

 He laughs, “It’s certainly not a fucking rocket, I can tell you that”

 She pushes her hips back in an attempt to make him go away, but it only encourages him further as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her sweatpants.

 “Hey, if you let me have some fun, I’ll help you out. Deal?” he says, taking advantage of the fact she can’t see the shit-eating grin on his face.

 She huffs, annoyed at the situation she’s been put in.

 Then again. Would it really be so bad? Ettore isn’t bad on the eyes. There are definitely worse prisoners to happen upon her in this horrendous scenario, she can’t complain much that it’s him.

 “Fine” she huffs, “But no funny business”

 He grins, “Funny is my middle name”

 “Yeah right, somehow I doubt tha-ow!” she’s cut off her sentence as he pulls her sweatpants over her ass and delivers a wide firm slap to the skin there, “I didn’t say you could do that!”

 “Too bad” he snickers, “Guess you can’t do anything about it”

 He drags two digits through her folds, finding her already wet. He can feel how she tenses up at his touch and can imagine how she’s holding her lips between her teeth, to not give him the satisfaction of knowing she likes it.

 “All this for me?” he grins.

 “You wish. I just used the Box, you idiot”

 He shrugs. A pussy is a pussy, he supposes. Better than his fist.

 He plunges into her, filling her to the hilt with his cock and moaning loudly when he reaches her end, completely burying himself inside her. God when was the last time he fucked a woman? He genuinely couldn’t remember. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of a woman’s pussy, he thinks. And now he’s had another taste of it, he really doesn’t want to let it go.

 But hey ho, he might as well have fun with it while he can.

 With most of Ettore’s sexual knowledge coming from porn, unreliable mates and a…not so great past, he doesn’t really know how women work. Just put your cock in a move it around right? There’s supposed to be an orgasm involved somewhere as well, but like fuck if he knows how to do that.

 If they can’t cum from that, how else are they meant to?

 Oh well.

 He fucks her quickly, he’s so beyond pent up and his hands venture higher to grip her waist underneath the shirt she’s wearing, pulling her body back onto his cock as quickly as he’s railing her.

 He can’t deny, it does feel damn good to have a woman.

 God, I sound like such a fucking virgin when I say that, he thinks.

 Ew. Feelings. No. Back to fucking.

 He can hear her small little whines and breaths echo into the Box, muffled somewhat by the door that is stuck around her ribs. And he can tell she’s trying not to be too loud.

 Was this the elusive orgasm? She sounds like a bird in pain or something.

 He feels his own orgasm creep up on him sooner than anticipated, having not wanked for a good few hours before this happened. So with a pitiful moan and the twitching of his hips, he cums deep inside her. He kind of hoped he wouldn’t cum too quick, partly because he was enjoying fucking her so much and also because he hopes she won’t make fun of him later for it.

 After he’s done and all tuckered out, the poor thing, he pulls his softening cock out of her, mourning the loss of her warmth for a moment, before tucking himself away. He feels his heart going so fast in his chest he has to brace against a wall to keep himself standing, with his eyes closed, replaying what just happened in his head, keeping it for the wank bank later.

 Almost so entranced he doesn’t realise that she’s turned her torso, so she can easily slide out of the door she was previously ‘stuck’ in, slipping out without so much as a complaint.

 She smoothes down her clothes with a content sigh and pulls her sweatpants back up over her hips, using her palms to make sure her hair doesn’t look awry.

 He looks at her, mouth open in shock, his dick still warm and his blood running cold. But she simply shrugs and gives him a smile.

 “Thanks. Washing machine next time, yeah?” she says before turning on her heel and sauntering off, looking far too pleased with herself. She leaves Ettore utterly speechless in the hallway next to the Box, with the doors now shut without her stuck in them.

 What. The. Fuck.

 Next time?

 It really is like those pornos.

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