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#a goose is kind of a duck if you think about it
reformedvillain · 7 months
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I just have the headcanon that Halsin could teach Spawn!Astarion to wildshape to travel faster and more safely.
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inkskinned · 8 months
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crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.
i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.
in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.
i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.
i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.
plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.
the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.
we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.
i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.
a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.
today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.
loved beyond thinking.
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weirdmarioenemies · 7 months
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Name: Googles
Debut: Webkinz
What a cute silly plush duck! Right? WRONG! Goose? INCORRECT! This is no duck. This is no goose. This is no animal we have in our world. This is a Googles, and you have never seen anything like it!
Webkinz, as you likely know, is one of those 2000s Virtual Pet Worlds, with the gimmick of buying a real plush animal that would allow you to play with that animal in the game. And I mean animal! For the most part these are all actual animals, or at least variants of them, like a dog with a watermelon color scheme, or a lion with a flower petal mane. There are also some mythical creatures like dragons, which, yeah, it makes sense. Of course kids would want to have one of those as a virtual pet!
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Then there are the Zingoz, original little monster guys who get whacked with bats by bigger monster guys. I guess they're a little weird considering the setting, but "shape with face and limbs" is not on its own Weird. I have no feelings on Zingoz.
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It is Googles that fascinates me so much! All of these real animals, some fantasy creatures, a few minor goofy monsters, and yet, there is Googles. They have ducks and geese in the game. This is not one of them. It is the mundanity of Googles that fascinates me so! Of all the things to be an original trademark species, they decided on a Kind Of Different Duck, and I delight in that.
But there IS a reason for Googles! A point of origin! It would have been FUNNIER if there wasn't, but it's ok. It still is nice and makes me smile.
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In the 1980s, GANZ, the company that would go on to make Webkinz, released a series of funny little flat plushes, including this ducky one! And that name on the tag... that's Googles! From what I can tell, this whole series was known as Googles, and included other species, like dogs and walruses, but these duck-billed bowling pins were the most popular.
So for Webkinz, they decided to revive one of their old, beloved plush creatures, bringing Googles to new generations while not telling them about its origins, making this silly fowl a strange, mundane mystery! And THAT is all you need to know about the taxonomy of Googles.
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At least, that's what I thought until I found out about this official animated music video for babies, that repeatedly refers to an individual Googles as a PLATYPUS. Platypus?! Where's the TAIL? That's one of the most important features to represent! Their bills certainly are broad, but I assumed it was just a stylization thing. And if platypus, where are their forelegs?
I do not accept this answer. I do not think I will ever find a satisfactory conclusion. I admit defeat, Webkinz Animated Music Video From 2010. You have bested me.
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coopzine · 6 months
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The long-awaited special edition of COOP: duck, duck, goose! has arrived, and it's chock-a-block full of all kinds of birds!
You can read it for free on the archives page of our new website! As always there's both a printable version you can print and fold at home, and a digital version you can read from the comfort of your device.
Some contributors you may recognize from Tumblr in this edition are @babeaccuda who contributed a really cute piece of art of a duck enjoying a little snack, as well as @todaysbird whose amazing poem about turkeys is sure to make you think!
Thank you to all our contributors for this extra special zine! And extra special thanks to Larz Alexander Hagen (larzstarz_arts on Instagram) for the lovely piece we used on our cover.
We are always taking submissions to our general editions, so if you have chicken-centric poetry or art you want to see in a future edition of COOP, please consider submitting!
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inactiveobeymeblog · 5 months
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Hi!
Could I request the brothers + side characters reaction when mc turns into a goose? I was thinking something like mc turned into a goose due to Solomon messing up again, and they act like the goose from Untitled Goose Game, but cuddlier. Like they are still a little menace, but also want to be pet and cuddled.
If you don’t want to do this request I completely understand as it is a bit odd. I hope you have a great day/night!
A/N: Sorry that I’m so late!! I was just caught up in a lot of things and forgot this was in my drafts oof. I also changed a few things up just to be a little silly (and also bc I didn’t want to write the personality of duck MC here). Anyway, I decided to divide this into two parts; one for the brothers and the other for the side characters. Enjoy!
The Brother’s Reactions to Duck!MC
Characters: Lucifer, Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor
Rating: SFW, fluff
Warnings: GN!MC, no pronouns used for MC, no gender specified for MC, interactions based on the brothers (not MC), personality not specified for MC
Tags: Fluff, the brothers love duck!MC, cuddling, preening, etc.
Part I (This Is Where You Currently Are), Part II (Coming Soon!)
Lucifer
How the hell did this happen?
“Will you stop taking my things, please? You’re making my life even more difficult than it is already.”
At first, he’d have fun with it, teasing you by picking you up randomly when in private
Even going so far as to sit in his lap while he pets you
But then he’d look for a way to fix it
And eventually he does, much to everyone’s protests
He’ll miss the times when he sets you in his lap and feeds you your favourites, but if you can be more helpful to him in your human form, he’d prefer that
Besides
He’d like to see your face instead of that of a duck
Mammon
Oh lord
Is he ever about to get in trouble
He’s no doubt teaming up with you to steal money
I mean
A duck?
In the Devildom?
Now THAT is about to attract a lot of money
He’d probably set up an attraction where lots of demons and demon-kin alike get to meet and pet a real goose
I feel like at the end of it all, even if Mammon did get a lot of money, you’d be exhausted
Because you already know you were out there for hours getting pet by so many
You need to recharge a bit
And that includes a lot of pets from Mammon
And a lot of cuddles
You know he’s going to be so happy to oblige
Levi
Unlike Mammon, he’s not going outside of the house
So you don’t have to worry about that
He’ll set you in his lap while he’s playing video games and he’ll let you time to time between bosses
Hell, he’ll even give you a controller to play with him if he’s feeling extra bored
And it baffles him how you win every time
Because a duck? Beating him? That’s impossible!
But he loves it
He’d lose to you again and again if it meant holding you in his lap like this
Satan
Team Prank Lucifer: Duck Addition
No but seriously, he’s getting into mischievous trouble with you in tow
He’d probably start by making cursed illusions of you but they all have different personalities
For instance, one could be kind and gentle while another could blow up the house
But while your illusions are causing havoc, the real you is resting in his lap as he reads a good book
He’s running his fingers through your goose feathers, practically preening you
He finds it relaxing how he can just pet you and sit back
If he’s honest, he hasn’t been reading his book for the past half an hour
He’s too busy adoring the way you shake your feathers in response to his pets
He finds you irresistibly adorable
Asmodeus
You already know he’s going to put you in cute little outfits
Doesn’t matter how much you hiss at him, he’ll find a way to put some sort of sweater on you
Once he does, he squeals and gets out his phone, taking a selfie with your very-not-amused-goose-face
This is not the first outfit he’s putting you in though, he’s putting you in sparkling pink and blue dresses and cute little tuxedos
He’s also putting some big, fluff coats on you
You’re not getting out of his sight no matter how hard you try
You just have to hope he gets bored
But let’s be honest here
That’s not happening
Beelzebub
Beel is pretty chill when he sees you all snuggled up beside his pillow, minding your own business
At first, he didn’t know it was you so he just kinda left you alone, thinking that you were another one of his brother’s crazy pets
Only when you had followed him out to the kitchen did he start to catch on
And once he does know it’s you, he’s carrying you everywhere with him
To the kitchen, the common room, the gym, RAD, or even the Demon Lord’s Castle
It doesn’t matter
As long as you’re in his arms, he’s happy
And if you want, he’d give you a few snacks as well
He doesn’t mind
And honestly? He’d get a bit sad when you return to normal
He got used to carrying you around :(
Belphegor
You can get he’s not moving unless he has to
So you’re his napping buddy until he’s forced to get up
He’d hold you in his arms and cuddling you as he sleep talks
Sometimes, if you’re lucky, you can escape his grasp and sit on either his back or his stomach
When he wakes up, he’s so confused bc his sleepy brain is thinking-
“Why is there a duck on me?”
And then he remembers that it’s you and he bundles you up in his arms again
He looks away when your duck wings flap in his face but he starts petting you when you settle
He’ll stay awake to pet you despite the pull of his sin that makes his eyes flutter closed every now and then
But he enjoys it
And when you return to normal, he’s in your arms fast asleep
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starlightshadowsworld · 4 months
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Atsushi and Piano man related headcannon
(@jisforj55 asked for more, had a fun idea so an attempt was made. This is just my take on it)
"Oh! You guys are gonna wanna hear this!" Called Albatross, walking over with Atsushi on his shoulders. "Oh? Are you going to admit to cheating at billiards earlier?" Asked Lippmann with a smirk.
"I have no idea what you’re talking about" said Albatross feigning confusion. He picked up Atsushi and gently set him on his feet before him.
"Our little goose has made a wonderful discovery and he’d like to share it with you all" he explained. Atsushi ducked his head shyly now everyone’s attention was on him.
Albatross ruffled his hair and gave him double thumbs up "you’ve got this!" He cheered.
Atsushi, with renewed confidence looked up at his uncle, who like everyone else had stopped what they were doing to listen. "You’re a superhero" said Atsushi, smiling brightly.
The flags were stunned (cept Albatross) and none more so than Piano man. He’d been called many things in his life but that was certainly a new one.
"Why do you think that, Atsushi?" He asked, curiously. "Chuuya was showing me a comic yesterday. It was about a superhero but I didn’t what that was so he told me. He said they save people who are scared and hurt and have cool powers.
And you saved me when the bad people got me. You help me when I’m scared and you have cool powers." Explained Atsushi, in that earnest way only children seemed to manage.
And not a second later was he pulled into Piano man’s arms into a warm hug. "Oh Atsushi" how could one so kind exist in a world so cruel and cold. "I am honoured to be your superhero" he was something far far more sinister to the rest of the world.
But here in Old World he was a colleague, a friend and an uncle. He would do anything for them. And if his little adorable nephew thought his uncle was a superhero. Than Piano man would be his superhero.
It was as simple as that.
Atsushi smiled, beckoning his uncle closer so he could whisper something to him.
Which he did, in a slightly quieter voice than usual so suffice to say everyone heard it. "It’s also because you get called Piano Man. Like superman but with piano’s."
Piano man chuckled, as did the others. "A keen observation, I’d expect nothing less of my little forger in the making."
"Hey, would that make a superhero too, little star?" Asked Lippman, smiling delightfully when Atsushi nodded.
(Chuuya walks in, hears Lippman call himself the amazing super Lippmann, while wearing a mask and cape and promptly walks back out.)
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ducktoonsfanart · 4 months
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Birthday party for Donald, Daisy and Della Duck! - Happy Birthday Donald, Daisy and Della Duck - Ducktales 2017 - Duckverse June - Week 1 - My Version - Gift for my friends
I drew on June 7th. After a long time, I decided to draw again related to Ducktales 2017, even though I'm not a fan of that series, but as they say everyone deserves a second chance. Is not it? So I decided to draw related to the great jubilee that is being celebrated these days and of course the favorite modern series by many, so I decided to draw Donald Duck, Della Duck and Daisy Duck with their family in Ducktales 2017 format, of course in my style. Because I'm not a fan of Ducktales 2017 style which is really weird for me.
On June 7, 1940, Donald's classic short "Mr Duck Steps Out" was shown, featuring Daisy Duck for the first time. 9/6/1934 The Classic Short "The Wise Little Hen" was shown and Donald Duck appeared there for the first time. Donald Duck will become one of the main stars of not only Disney, but also cartoon films, comics and video games at all. Certainly there is no need to tell his history. Della Duck is first mentioned in the comic book Donald's Nephews, and then made her first appearance in the 1994 comic strip "The Empire Builder from Calisota" by Don Rosa, from The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck. For the first time Della Duck appeared as a mother and adult woman and had a role in the Dutch comic "80 is Prachtig" from 2014, and she appears for the first time in animation in the Ducktales reboot. Also five years ago is the anniversary of the episode "What Ever Happened to Della Duck?!" where officially Della Duck got her role.
Well, since they are honored these days, and especially Donald Duck who is celebrating his 90th anniversary this year, I drew a birthday party where everyone celebrates their birthdays together. Donald, Daisy and Della Duck along with their family and their friends. Because what kind of birthday is it, without your closest ones. Yes, Donald is in the middle since he is definitely the main one, but he suffered a lot in that series so he definitely deserved the best. Finally, that Donald is happy after a long time and can finally rest. Yes, this is how I imagine the end of Ducktales 2017. And with him are his twin sister Della and his favorite love and girlfriend Daisy Duck. Yes, I also drew the characters as I like to imagine them in my Ducktales AU and Quack Pack reboot based on Ducktales 2017 as well as different outfits that would suit them quite well. Since I can't think of anything else, sorry, and I added Donald's nephews also wear caps and most of them wear jeans. Huey and Louie wear backwards hats. Yes, they are teenagers here too. :D And in front of Donald, of course, a birthday cake with cherries.
In addition to Donald, Daisy, and Della Duck, there are Donald's nephews Huey, Dewey, and Louie Duck, plus Phooey Duck and Kabooie or Kablooie Duck (Donald's fifth nephew, usually wearing brown clothing), Gosalyn Mallard (who is with Huey), Webby Vanderquack and Lena De Spell (Sabrewing, otherwise they are together), May and June Duck, Violet Sabrewing, Scrooge McDuck, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera and Gandra Dee, Gladstone Gander, Fethry Duck, Drake Mallard, Launchpad McQuack, Gyro Gearloose (to draw alone how he smiles I didn't think I'd ever do this), Boyd Beaks-Gearloose and Bentina Beakley. And everyone together celebrates the important birthdays of the most important Ducktales characters. Adults and children together. Happy birthday to you Donald, Daisy and Della Duck!
If you are interested in more about these outfits, check out this drawing here: https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/post/742447670629744640/quack-pack-week-quack-pack-original-vs-quack
Also, check out other Donald, Daisy and Della Duck birthday parties (adults and kids): https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/post/751985132490113024/donald-duck-della-duck-daisy-duck-gus-goose-and https://ducktoonsfanart.tumblr.com/post/751983235321430016/huey-dewey-and-louie-ducks-plus-phooey
Feel free to like and reblog, if you like this drawing and this version of the Ducktales characters, please also don't use the same versions without mentioning me. Thank you! Happy Birthday Donald, Daisy and Della Duck once again!
I also did this related to Duckverse June, so I'm dedicating this drawing as a gift to @tokuvivor , @secret-tester and @queer-in-a-cornfield . I also dedicate my gift to my friend from Discord, for @puffyducks @puffywuffy8904 who celebrated his birthday a month ago, and I wish him a happy birthday and sorry for the delay! Also, this is a gift for my friend @boingodigitalart, as well as for all of you who are fans of Ducktales 2017.
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boxboxlewis · 1 year
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Prompt: duck soulmate au 🦆
There's a rubber duck sitting neatly on the back of Daniel's drivers room sofa.
Daniel is getting used to the Alpha Tauri motorhome. It feels, like everything at AT, like a shitty proof-of-concept mockup of the real thing over at Red Bull: flimsier walls, smaller rooms, worse catering. But like—it's fine. He's not going to be there for too long, hopefully. Everyone's friendly, at least. Everyone's glad to have him back.
This duck, though. "Yuki," Daniel yells. He doesn't take his eyes off the duck.
Yuki sticks his head round the door. "Yes?"
"Did you put this duck here, mate?"
"Why would I put a fucking duck in your room. Daniel." Yuki doesn't sound impressed. He vanishes.
It's probably—journalists have been asking a lot, recently, about Daniel's lack of soulmate. He's thirty-four and not a hint of a goose. If you're going to get one, you usually get it by thirty, and Daniel had given some unwise quotes, earlier in his career. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to get goosed, right? I'm a very soulable guy," spoken straight into the Netflix cameras, is one in particular that journos like to throw back at him.
He'd thought, when he and Max got back together, that maybe—but. No goose, still.
The rubber duck feels like a mocking reference to the whole no-soulmate thing, and if Daniel's honest, he doesn't love it. He gets his phone out and texts Max. Some prick put a rubber duck in my drivers room.
He can see Max typing on and off for a few minutes before a reply comes through. Why do you assume it was a prick. Then, Maybe a very handsome boyfriend put it there.
Right, ok. Daniel looks at the duck again. Now that he knows it's from Max it looks friendlier. Almost cute. Why did you put a duck in my room, baby?
Max is typing, pausing, typing, pausing. At last he sends I'll tell you later.
Daniel finds a spot for the duck on a shelf, and kind of forgets about it.
Max wins, obviously. He wins the sprint and he wins the proper race on Sunday. Daniel is happy for him and also queasily resentful, love and envy curdling together in his throat. He pushes the envy aside pretty well, he thinks.
He's watching Max give a post-race interview, standing to one side behind him like some loyal political wife whose husband is explaining to the press that he's definitely not going to fuck a staffer again. It's fine. Max says that Red Bull have a very good car. He enjoys driving it. He says it like it's impossible for him to imagine not enjoying driving, and Daniel feels a tug of fondness somewhere in his chest. He can't resent Max, not really.
Then Max says, "Ask me about soulmates."
The journalist—it's someone from F1TV, Daniel thinks, but not someone he recognises—blinks at Max. "About... sorry, you want me to...?"
"Ask me," Max repeats, in his direct, throaty voice. Daniel loves him: that's all. "About soulmates."
"Right, yes," the journo says. "Er, Max, can you tell us your views on soulmates?"
"Well first of all I think they are very stupid," Max says immediately. "Who wants some smelly goose to follow them around? And also I think, they are bad because they can make people feel that their love doesn't matter, if they don't have a soul bond. But the love you build with someone because you both want to—I think, that is more romantic. To me."
The journalist smiles brightly at the camera. "Well, there we go! That's race champion Max Verstappen on soulmates! Now let's—"
But Max isn't finished. "For me, I would not even want a goose," Max says. "I would rather have some little rubber duck, that my lover had given to me. That would mean more, I think."
There are cameras all around them, but when Daniel steps forward and looks a question at Max, Max gives him a tiny nod, so: Daniel kisses him.
The rubber duck, assisted by Max's nephews, is the ringbearer at their wedding.
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adaptacy · 1 year
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You mind writing a little Johnny Slaughter thing where the reader is southern, too? Not from Texas, but maybe from a whole nother state like Louisiana or Mississippi. Like, *really* southern- thick drawl, sassy attitude n everything. If it's not too much to ask, could the reader first start out as a victim? But the thing is, they're not really one to mess with. They're witty, quick, and honestly a bit of an asshole. They're worried about themselves- going as far as to sacrifice the other survivors to ensure their own survival. Maybe even off one themselves, quickly realizing that they like killing just as much as the rest of the family. Love ur work! (Also, have you heard about the new Nancy leaks? I'm so excited to see her, you have no idea.)
OMG OFC WAIT THIS IS GONNA BE SO FUN!!
i love requests ongogngrij
also YES!! I love her so much!! i saw someone (i think it was creepling's post) about what Nancy would think about johnny getting a soft spot for someone and oh god the brain juice started flowing with that. i think her and johnny will def be my mains bcs ive been dying for another female family member that isnt sissy (no hate to sissy, but i tried her and she just wasnt as fun as johnny)
anyways anyways anyways, here you go! this is gonna be fluff, but if you want an nsfw part lmk and i can make that work ;) <333 hope you enjoy!!
this is gonna be kinda cheesy and cute aside from the death (whoops) but if i do an nsfw it'll be more serious. i just thought this would be a good opportunity to write a jaw-dropped johnny who's like "oh shit i think im in love"
"The hell you wantin' now?!" You snarled, cracking your neck as you squared off with a man nearly twice your size. He was used to this kind of fighting back, but there was something about your volume, your genuine anger that was new to him. It was intriguing. He almost wanted to study your brain before he ate it.
"All that, and you still got caught, sweetpea. Ain't that quite the case of karma?" Johnny chuckled, casually spinning his blade in his hand. Beneath his feet was a brunette boy, far too bloodied to be anywhere near alive. You didn't know him, didn't care about him, and you were far more concerned with your own well-being than the safety of some stranger.
"Don't tell me yer gettin' cocky now, pretty boy?" You laughed. You'd wrestled unruly gators twice his size, you could manage this egotistical megalomaniac. Hell, you didn't win a championship in bull-riding for sweet talking it.
"Ain't you a little too pretty to be talkin' so much?" Johnny pouted, sulking closer with his head tilted.
"Ain't you a little too muscular to be flirtin' with yer food?" You rolled your eyes, gripping the kitchen knife tighter in your hand. He'd been so preoccupied with the random teenagers to keep an eye on you, exactly as you'd planned. While they were playing duck duck goose in the rickety basement, you'd been granted easy access to the family house. And with it, the kitchen. And with that, the knives.
Your knife was much larger than his, and it made up for the size difference between your bodies. You knew for a fact he was underestimating you, most people did. They thought you were all bark and no bite, but your bark was only really half your bite.
"I've made pie with apples mer fearsome than you," you teased. The man furrowed his eyebrows, seeming a little stung by your remark.
"The hell you from, anyways?" He shook his head, still not letting his guard down, but he seemed to be a little less on the offense.
"Louisiana, born 'n raised. Ain't you able to tell? Or you too dumb for that?"
"Drop the damn knife," Johnny demanded, and you couldn't help but laugh. Literally laugh. Not just giggle, not just chuckle, not just scoff- full-on laugh at his attempt.
"Or what? You gon' stab me with that there lil butterfly blade?" You mused, waving a hand in the air. "I'd like to see you try," you added, your tone a little lower.
Johnny opened his mouth to reply, but there was a voice from behind him, instead. "You-- You killed them! You killed all of them!" A female yelled, sounding hurt and angry. Both of you paused your bickering to turn towards an angry girl, a small pointy bone in her hand. "You killed my sister!"
Johnny scoffed, looking the girl up and down. You eased up as well, watching the interaction. "Ain't you see we was talkin'? Could'a waited your darn turn, missy," you grumbled, finding the interruption rather rude. The girl turned to you, her eyes wide.
"You-- You're that bitch at the bar! You gave my friend a concussion!" She accused, and you scoffed.
"Now, I would neva-- Oh, oh, she's yer friend? Well ain't that right rich! Small world, ain't it?" You laughed, reminiscing on the bar fight you'd gotten into after some city boy claimed he could take more rye whiskey than you. You were practically raised- hell, made out of whiskey. You had to show him up, obviously. It wasn't your fault his little girlfriend couldn't handle him losing.
It seemed as if the girl couldn't choose between who to attack, but when she finally did make up her mind, you found yourself in the hot seat. You assumed it was because she was more confident taking down you than she was taking down the man, but it was merely another case of underestimation. She swung the bone shiv towards you, and although Johnny stepped forward to do something, you had it handled.
You were the last woman who needed a man to rescue her. 'Specially against a pipsqueak like this chick was. As she rushed forward, you drove the kitchen knife directly into the girls gut. You weren't sure what possessed her to make such a foolish move as to charge at a woman with a knife, but it made for an easy means of defense. The brunette gurgled as blood splattered onto your mouth, hitting your cheek as she fell over your arm, eventually collapsing.
You twisted the knife out of the girls gut, reaching up and wiping the blood off of your cheek-- or, trying to, anyways, but you only really managed to smear it on your face. You scoffed in irritation, wiping the blood off on your shirt, and doing the same with the knife. After all, you didn't want to risk damaging the blade from the blood. It seemed like a good quality vegetable slicer.
With a simple clearing of your throat, you shook the girl off of your leg, looking back at your opponent. He was frozen in place, his eyebrows furrowed and his face contorted in a mix of confusion and disgust. "Now, where was we at? Them city girls just ain't got no manners. Momma neva raised 'em right," you complained, giving the kitchen knife a once-over before looking back at Johnny.
He blinked, remaining silent.
"You still home, or you gone out to get groceries?" You frowned, confused as to why he wasn't responding. You snapped your fingers and swung your weight onto one leg, placing your free hand on your hip. "Mister muscles? You missin' yer brain?"
"Who are you?"
You chuckled, shaking your head. "I was merely defendin' myself. Ain't nuthin' special 'bout it. Now, where's we at? You still wanna go, pretty boy?"
Johnny licked his lips, pulling his head back. He tucked his knife into his pocket, and a small smile spread over his face. "You wanna go out sometime?"
"Kidnappin' and threatenin' a woman ain't no way to get 'em in yer bed," you scolded, tilting your head. "I know yer mama's taught you better'n that. Ain't she?"
"You like rye whiskey?"
You smirked. "That's more like it. Count me in."
246 notes · View notes
jackiequick · 8 months
Text
I’m Already Gone | Top Gun Maverick Fanfic 📄
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Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw & Jennifer Mitchell
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Summary: It happened in a blink, it happened in a flash, as that night ran cold and old as she had ever seen. What happened that night the papers were pulled? Heartbreak.
Timeline: Post Top Gun—Pre Top Gun Maverick
Characters mentioned: Pete Maverick Mitchell, Tom Kazansky, Carole Bradshaw, Dane Bradshaw, Austin Mitchell and etc
Song inspired fic: Already Gone by Sleeping At Last
——
It wasn’t supposed to end like this.
In tears.
Sore throats from all the screaming and crying at 3 in the morning.
But it did.
Here’s what happened…
…it was a cold decision based night at The North Island. Pete was out pulling an all nighter, Austin was at Dane’s house doing god knows what and Jennifer was alone. At home, getting calls every few hours from her father to see how she was doing.
To be honest, she was doing fine. It was a rare occasion for the house to be quiet that late at night, usually there was some kind of noise being heard across the halls. Either from the boys or one of her friends.
But tonight, it was pure silence. You can hear the windows cracking from the drips of water outside, the sound of the wooden floor creek every once in a while, and the rumbling of car engines driving past the streets right outside her door. In the living room, she can hear it all too well.
It felt like a odd film she was placed in but she didn’t expect to be thrown in.
Her one thoughts were about Bradley. She knew he was sorta stressing the past few days about getting into the academy and proceeded in his dreams of becoming a pilot. She knew from stories that he always wanted to fly, just like his father Goose and unofficial uncle Maverick.
But Jennifer also knew the concept of events and consequences coming into that role. Deployment across the country, flying into dangerous territory, long distance trips from home and safe housing wasn’t always the best for pilots. Usually in secure parking areas but still.
A part of her wasn’t sure if she was ready to give that up yet, not having Bradley around everyday.
She didn’t know if she wanted that for herself either. She loved the idea of being in the air, cool tricks and taking a knowledgeable look at the world from the cockpit of your plane, it was a rush you can only imagine. But she loved being on the groundwork for things too, surrounded by family and friends. Teammates.
Jenny decided that whatever happens with that paperwork, she will be happy for him. It will hurt to see him leave her to go fly out into the world but she loves him either way…
Jennifer cleared her thoughts turning down the lights on the first floor and headed upstairs to her bedroom, free falling onto the mattress as she climbed underneath the covers, deciding to get some rest. It was late. Midnight. And she was still awake. So laying her eyelids shut for now, she curled up against the pillows and slowly nodded off.
~~~~
Remember all the things we wanted
Now all our memories, they're haunted
We were always meant to say goodbye
~~~~
The next moment happened in a flash, gently being awakened by the sound of footsteps on the first floor and small grunts. She couldn’t tell if that was her father’s footsteps or not, but just for precaution Jenny swiftly escaped the bed and grabbed the baseball bat from behind her door as she walked downstairs.
Even though she was groggy from sleep she held the baseball bat in her grip tightly, ready to swing at the figure she found in the kitchen sipping a glass of water. It confused her as she squeezed her eyes a couple of time, trying to wake herself up swinging a hit at the tall fellow who ducked.
It took Jenny a second to realize who it was, hearing a gulp a second later.
“Bradley?!” She asked, lowering her bat a bit.
“Yes? Who else do you think it is?” He exclaimed, sounding annoyed.
“S-sorry..w-what in heavens are you doing here it..it’s 2 in the morning.”
“Couldn’t sleep. Don’t worry I’ll be gone and out of your hair soon.”
“No? You came here for something..what was it?”
“I was looking for you and Maverick.”
“Why? What did i do?”
~~~~
Even with our fists held high
It never would have worked out right, yeah
We were never meant for do or die
~~~
Instead of saying a word, Bradley handed Jenny a slip of paper that seemed to be a bit wet and crumbled at the corners. It was at the same time, she noticed the look on his face. His hair was wetter than expected, patched of droplets over the shoulders of his shirt as his sweater lay on the chair next to the kitchen table and he was wearing sweatpants.
He had small bags under his eyes. His eyes were dropped onto her hands, as if he wanted to hold her.
To tell the truth, Bradley was craving from physical touch from her in the smallest way, shape or form. He has been a wreck all of a sudden after recycling that letter from the bin at home, that he grumped and threw away. He didn’t want to believe the words said on that paper, nor the fact that his suspicions were correct.
But a part of him told him they were.
He watched as Jenny read the letter, her expression changing every once in a millisecond from shock to sorrow all wrapped into one. He noticed her biting her bottom lip for a moment, as if she’s trying to take it all in with a scoff. A hint of a ever so tiny half smile was tugged at her lips, it was quickly changed but it was there.
He saw it.
Finally after a deep breath of silence waters, she looked up at him, her fingertips playing with the edges of the paper.
“I’m sorry Bradley..” She said in a soft whisper, as if she was gonna wake up a dog within the house, “..I know how much you wanted to fly..”
“I can’t do that now..” He replied with a soft haze voice, looking away for a second.
“You can always apply again, right? I mean, dad can pull a strings to have your application be seen early or maybe Ice do it?…”
“No. Don’t even mention Maverick.”
“Brad, honey, it’s not the end of the world. You will get other chances..i know you will.”
“Not with Maverick around.”
“W-what?”
~~~
I didn't want us to burn out
I didn't come here to hurt you now
I can't stop
~~~
He sighed and scoffed, “Jen, baby, don’t play dumb with me right now. You may be saying all of this but i don’t believe you. We both know how much you want me to stay here, we discuss it before!”
“That was a while ago! Yes it will take some time getting used to..b-but I wouldn’t stop you from flying!..wait you think i had something to do with this?” She asked, soften her gaze at the question.
“Did you? I mean it wouldn’t be the first time you pulled a stunt like that to protect me.”
“No. No, no, no! I-i would not do that. You can trust me on knowing that I wouldn’t go behind your back for that.”
“Jen..you are the closest person here to know if something that was up..d-did you have a feeling this would happen?”
“..I honestly don’t know. But you don’t get to come into my house in the middle of the night and accuse me for such a thing.” 
“Did you know that Mav would do this?”
“I..no. H-he would’ve pulled my papers too..”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he does or, he already did it and you just don’t know it yet! Maverick Mitchell has always been shown to be my biggest supporter but all of a sudden he pulls something like this? And the fact that i don’t know if i should believe you right now is what ticks me off.”
“Bradley wait..”
“I..you didn’t think i saw that little smile as you read the paper? Huh?!”
~~~
I want you to know
That it doesn't matter
Where we take this road
Someone's gotta go
~~~
Jen wouldn’t admit it but she did smile reading the whole thing, she didn’t want him to leave just yet especially at this young of an age. Tears slowly being welcomed into the corner of her eyes came despite on request.
But she wanted him to fly, enjoy his life even if she left to pick up the pieces at home.
“Okay, maybe i did smile, huh? Cause i don’t want to see you go or worse, have you slip away from my fingers the second you get the green light to do so?!” She yelled, as her temper started to reach up her back.
“I’m not going to leave you!” He replies back, with furrow eyebrows.
“You don’t know that! Austin’s planning on flying like dad, Dane wants to go into engineering planes and high tech jets! You’ve been ready to fly past the 7 seas since you were 8…i just thought maybe..maybe this was a sign that we will be alright..that i don’t have to say goodbye, yet..so yeah, blame me. Go ahead!”
“..blame you?”
“Mhm. Blame me..since you need someone to yell at..”
“Jen..i don’t..I don’t know what to think, okay? B-but I’m..The Navy is my dream, i always wanted to fly..but I can’t wrap my head around not knowing if I actually really got a chance to be there..and i want you there..with me.”
“Then why have you been so busy and in a hurry to get out?..but..not once have you mentioned about it was gonna be us there..just you. You alone, Brad.”
“It always occurred to me that you would be there..”
“It occurred to you that i would just be there with you?! W-what I didn’t want to?..i love you, Bradley, i do and I understand why you feel this way about everything but..there has to be something else right? Why are you in a hurry to get out?”
~~~
And I want you to know
You couldn't have loved me better
But I want you to move on
So I'm already gone
~~~
Bradley was silent at the question being repeated. He looked down, as his eyes finally watered. The sound of his sniffles could be heard as clear as day.
She can only guess the reason.
It’s been a less than a hectic year since his mother died. Carole Bradshaw death recked everyone. Leaving a painful scar in the family’s overall built, where it still felt a fresh opened wound.
She was like a mother to Jenny. Treating her with as much love, care and compassion than anyone can ever imagine. Hugs and kisses among all of the kids as her smile can light up the whole night sky.
And her laughter bringing souls together in a lifespan, just wanting to dance around the room. From her sass, to her wit and gossipy cheer.
“..my parents.” Bradley simply said, almost choking on the words.
“..Goose and Carole..that’s why you fight to hurry and fly..to chance that wish to be there..in the there with them.” She answered, looking away.
“Is it bad..? Is it so bad i want to touch the clouds like my dad did and come home to your waiting arms?”
“No..it’s not. It’s a dream but..I don’t know how long i can take waiting for you to come home..w-what if you don’t come home? A-a-an-and i get a knock on the door from a solider with—”
“Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence, Jennifer. It’s not gonna happen! I will come home, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to take the risk to see the world and be a pilot. You know that right?”
She walked away from the kitchen and into the living room as she sighed, “Here we go again..”
“What?” He asked, followed behind her.
“Again with the whole pilot talk! I get that, you want to be like your father but there is more to life than just flying Bradley!”
~~~
Looking at you makes it harder
But I know that you'll find another
That doesn't always make you wanna cry
Started with a perfect kiss
Then we could feel the poison set in
Perfect couldn't keep this love alive
~~~
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~~~
You know that I love you so
I love you enough to let you go
~~~
He raised an eyebrow and scoffed loudly, “You’re serious? If it was anyone else, i would say you’re possibly right but you’re father is Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. If anything you know better than anyone how important that is!”
“And what if it isn’t?!” She spin around and yelled back, with a glare having enough.
“You’re hilarious.”
“I’m being serious!”
“You don’t get it, do you?”
“No, you don’t get it. I understand you very well and i love you for everything you stand for..but what if it’s short lived? I can’t watch you die, Bradley..I understand you’re mad at my father, you’re more than hurt and you might not trust what I’m saying right now but a part of me knows I’m sure..”
“..w-what are you saying? That your right here and I’m wrong? Cause i do get it! And I’m more than mad right now, I’m furious but whatever happens next..that’s my decision to make, Jen. I need you to know that.”
“..okay. I’m just trying to protect you Bradley but I won’t be there when you yell in my dad’s face tomorrow for pulling your papers..i want you to be okay.”
~~~
I want you to know
That it doesn't matter
Where we take this road
Someone's gotta go
~~~
At this point, her eyes were patchy with tears and her nose was reddish as she watched his face changed.
They were both on two different ends of the slightly aggressive disagreement. The two each had their reasons and doesn’t matter how many times they had to repeat them, until they got a point.
It was late.
They have been screaming and yelling at one another.
Their eyes were puffy and throats were dry, sore even.
Yes, they both wanted to touch the sky from the seat of their cockpits but they their reason weather or not to do so. Of course Jennifer wanted to fly just as bad as he did. But her fears and experiences from the family held her back.
The long distance trips, deployment, people she cared about dying young and old, and the navy not always living up to their truth.
She looked down at her necklace Bradley gave her months back on Valentine’s Day as a present, taking a deep breath removing it from her grasp and watching his face as she did.
Bradley’s eye furrowed in fear, annoyance and grief. His eyes flickered between every single way but meeting her gaze. He gulped, as the finger he used to point at her dropped and hesitated to raise again.
He shook his head, blinking twice walking forward in strives as his face said it all. He reminded himself at that moment how much love and respect he had for her, realizing how he basically bashed her more than once.
He didn’t mean to be this way. But watching her remove that single piece of jewelry he gave her the year before his mother died, the one was supposed to be used as a promise to her.
Well, it hurt.
~~~
And I want you to know
You couldn't have loved me better
But I want you to move on
So I'm already gone
I'm already gone
Already gone
You can't make it feel right
When you know that it's wrong
~~~
“W-what are you doing? J-Jen don’t. Please, don’t.” He said, standing in front of her glancing at the clock, “..i love you. Don’t do this.”
She sucked in a breath and held out the necklace, “I know you do. But I can’t hold you back. As much as we love one another, and will always be in each other’s lives..right now, we can’t.”
“I want you!”
“You want to fly.”
“I want both!”
“You want to have it all but it can’t happen right now. I can’t be the one holding you back..”
“Jen please..I’m begging you. I’m sorry, we can work it out!”
“Not with your anger and pride taking over..”
“T-think about this! You’re making a mistake here, Jen. I can’t let you be gone.”
“I’m already gone.”
“You’ll regret this!”
“And so will you.”
~~~
I'm already gone
Already gone
There's no moving on
So I'm already gone
Already gone
Already gone
Ooh, oh
Already gone
Already gone
Already gone, yeah
~~~
Bradley didn’t say another word, closing the gap between them as he looped a finger underneath her chin and pressed a kiss onto her cheek.
He felt a salty tear run down her cheek and reach his fingertips wiping the other way. The other hand took the necklace from grasping palm, fumbling with the chain for a moment.
Jennifer wrapped her around his middle and pressed her face against his neck huffing, holding back a sob as she ran her fingers across his golden brown curls.
She kissed his cheek and then forehead gazing softly into his eyes. He half smiled, leaning into her touch and hummed.
She didn’t want to say goodbye either, but she could bare to witness this any further than what thoughts appeared in her heard. The hint of his cologne entered her nose as she sighed deeply.
Both didn’t want to pull away from another’s light grip.
~~~~
Remember all the things we wanted
Now all our memories, they're haunted
We were always meant to say goodbye
I want you to know
That it doesn't matter
Where we take this road
Someone's gotta go
~~~~
Bradley was the first to pull away noticing the white letters on the coffee table, one being addressed to her as he picked it up.
He signaled for her to open it. He knew she didn’t like to open mail late at night but he couldn’t leave without knowing she got in or not.
Either way, he will comfort her.
She hesitated for a moment, shaking her head but her actions speaker louder than words as she ripped opened the letter to expect something different yet familiar.
Her eyes ran across the page, handing it to Bradley as she gasped, hovering a hand over mouth. He read it quickly, eyesore scanning the sheet of paper to only sigh.
Same as him. She didn’t exactly get in.
The only thing he did was held Jenny in his arms, rubbing her shoulder as she let out a sob she was holding back. Tears rolled down his own face, baring his face into her hair mumbling a few things as they both sucked onto the couch.
No words were said, just soften noises escaped their lips. Resting her head against his chest, as he hummed staring at the wall.
Once again, their throats were sorely lacking as their faces remained dried up with fallen tear stains.
3 am.
They have been doing this for an entire hour.
Closed to almost 3:29am when Bradley stood up from the couch, resting a blanket across Jenny’s body.
Her eyes were nodding off as she whispered a soft, “..i love you..”
“I love you too..” He replied pressing a kiss to her forehead, “..get some rest.”
“You too..please?”
“I will..”
Without a second later, he walked out of the house with a small sigh and looked up at the sky that shined only a few stairs.
She reached over to the small lamp turning it off as her eyelids finally dropped, nuzzling against the throw pillow with a slight sigh.
~~~
And I want you to know
You couldn't have loved me better
But I want you to move on
So I'm already gone
~~~
~~~
~~~
-> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the fic tell me what did you think about in the comments below.
-> Remember to like, share and reblog for more stuff like this!
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62 notes · View notes
the-s1lly-corner · 8 months
Note
Can,, can we have child!clown!reader making honking sounds at the circus members when they're really happy? They also do innocent pranks and and they are really silly and playful and so so small (smaller than Pomni herself perhaps?)
Caine, Jax and Ragatha w/ child!clown!reader who pulls innocent pranks! (platonic!)
not too into the mood to write today but i feel bad for leaving requests for a few days so imma (shuffles notes) rise and grind jumping onto my silly computer to get these written since its finally getting warmer in my house ehehehehe
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CAINE:
i think he would take on a almost fatherly role for you; though hes not... okay well i was going to say hes not the best dad but that makes it sound like hes not a good one. hes definitely trying his best hes just a little chaotic and youre his first kid!!! probably encourages your pranks because it gives you something to do and you seem happy with it.. love when you honk, he likes to call you a goose/hj.. i think he might give you stuff to enhance your pranks and might even give you some ideas... though caines ideas can sometimes be a little complicated for your little brain... definitely would carry you around, usually flying or hovering from place to place
RAGATHA:
older sister/mother figure ragatha my beloved... i think depending on what kind of pranks you pull she either embraces it, since i doubt a little kid is like. dropping blocks of cement on people after propping the block on top of a door. truly innocent and playfully. visibly melts when you honk at her, she thinks its adorable. vaguely reminds her of how cats will chirp when they see their human coming home.. loves giving you little accessories for your clown outfit; bows, ribbons, pins, patches and so on! all hand made by her and personalized to your style! keeps a close eye on you to make sure youre okay, especially during an IHA... definitely holds your hand while walking you around to keep you from getting lost
JAX:
like caine i think he would encourage your pranks... just dont prank him. the whole "i like seeing funny things happen to people" but its only funny to him if its other people... you might develop a mischievous side from him... more of an older brother figure than a parental one, i think. sees you putting together a prank but he stops you mid way to give you something that would work better for the prank. kind of like the trope where a character gives an angry character a better weapon so they can go beat someone up except here its mostly innocent and theres no intention to hurt anyone and its about prank stuff... you kind of follow him around like a baby duck, very cute but hes trying to pretend hes not melting inside
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ramblingoak · 1 year
Text
Please, Cardinal
The Sexy Adventures of Cardinal Terzo ~ A series of stories featuring Cardinal Terzo and his adventures around the abbey
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Terzo x Female Reader ~ You meant to share your biggest secret with Papa Primo during confession, but unfortunately Cardinal Terzo is there instead ~ nsfw, 18+ only mdni, smut, loss of virginity, fingering ~ 3,300
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
“Bless me Papa for I um, haven’t sinned.”
A deep chuckle was the only answer you got at first, but it was enough to make you freeze.  That was not Papa Primo’s laugh.  He was supposed to be the one taking confessions tonight!  You had come specifically to talk to him, you definitely didn’t want to tell anyone else your secret, especially…
“No Papa tonight, sorella.  I’m afraid you’re stuck with me.”
…Cardinal Terzo.
This wasn’t going to work at all.  You quickly stood up from where you were kneeling by the dividing screen, an apology tumbling from your lips.
“I’m sorry Pa–I mean, Cardinal!  I needed to talk to Primo tonight.  I’ll go!  I’m sorry.”  
You turned to leave, but your rosary fell from your shaking hands and you accidentally kicked it under the bench.  Groaning you dropped to your knees again and ducked your head under to see where they were.  Right when your hand closed around the beads the door to your side of the booth opened, light from the chapel spilling inside and startling you. As you moved to get up your head slammed into the bottom of the bench and you cried out.
“Easy sorella, let me help.”  You felt one of Terzo’s hands on the back of your head, the other one on your shoulder and he gently eased you out from under the bench so you could sit.  Your eyes were squeezed shut from the throbbing in your head, but you also couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.  Cardinal Terzo always looked so beautiful and put together and here you were about to cry in front of him like a child.
“I’m fine, Cardinal.  I’m sorry for bothering you.”
“You keep apologizing for things when you have no reason to.”  He moved a hand to your chin and gently nudged your head up.  You blinked your eyes open and like usual felt like melting when you took in his beautiful face.  The black makeup around his eyes causing each one to be even more dazzling.  Being this close to him, having him touching you, was definitely not helping your crush.
“You’re right, Cardinal.  I’m sor–”  
“Ah!  Not another apology.”  You managed a small smile and nodded.  The Cardinal moved his hand around the back of your head and you winced when he found the bump you’d given yourself.  His hand was warm, even through his leather glove and your veil.  You couldn’t help but lean into it a bit.  “I think you’ll have a, what’s it called, chicken egg?  But otherwise you’ll live.”
“Goose egg, Cardinal.”  He clicked his tongue, pulling both of his hands away and settling down on the floor across from you.
“Either way it will probably be sore for a few days, you’ll need to take it easy.”  You bit your lip and nodded, looking down into your lap where you had been twisting your rosary beads in your hands.  There was an excuse to get up and leave on the tip of your tongue before he spoke again.  “Now sorella, why can you not tell me your confession?  What makes my fratello so special, huh?”
“It’s not that he’s special, Cardinal.  Well I mean, he is special, he’s Papa after all.  But my confession is kind of embarrassing.”  You glanced up at him, but Terzo just had an eyebrow raised as he waited for you to continue.  “Especially considering this church and the things we um, we celebrate.”  He remained quiet, still patiently sitting in front of you while you worked up the courage to share your secret.
Well, now or never you supposed.
“I’m a virgin.”
You were looking back down at your hands, refusing to look at his face.  Sexuality of all kinds were celebrated here and from what you had heard (and witnessed) Cardinal Terzo participated in everything.  Now here you were, a Sibling of Sin without an ounce of experience.  Your church was founded on celebrating sin, with lust being the favorite, and here you were only having been kissed once in your life.
“Sorella, this is what you were afraid to tell me?  Why?”
“Because you’re you, Cardinal and I’m just…”  You sighed and gripped your rosary so tight the beads hurt as they dug into your hands.  “You’re you and I’m me.  I didn’t want you to think poorly of me.”
“Are you trying to say I’m a slut?”  Oh shit, your cheeks flamed and you whipped your head up, already stammering out an apology but when you saw his face you groaned.  His eyes were twinkling, a smile stretching across his face.  Before you could stop yourself you reached out and shoved his shoulder playfully because really, your heart was going a mile a minute thinking that he was upset with you.
“Don’t do that!  Please Cardinal, be serious.”
“Sorella, mi dispiace, but it’s not that serious.  There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin.  Even here in our church.” 
“Cardinal, it’s embarrassing!  Everyone is out having orgies and I’m just sitting in my room watching stupid shows.”
“Then go out and join an orgy!  This is something I will always encourage.”
You groaned and dropped your head into your hands.  ‘Go and join an orgy’ says the man that was probably invited to one every night.  He just wasn’t getting it.
“I can’t just throw myself into an orgy when I don’t know what to do.”
“Maybe you should be watching some different shows then.”
“Alright, you know what, I’m going to go.”  Forget Terzo and forget Primo, you’d be a virgin forever to avoid talking about this anymore.  You started to get up, but Terzo’s hands reached out and pressed down on your shoulders.
“Sorella!  Sorella, I’m sorry!  I was trying to break the mood, si?”
“It’s lighten the mood.”
“Okie dokie, whatever.  What I’m trying to say is, you should not be ashamed of being uh, inexperienced.”  His hands moved from your shoulders, running down your arms until they came to your hands.  He gently pried your rosary away and set it on top of the bench before holding both of your hands in between the soft leather covering his own.  “It’s ok to not want to do these things.”
“But I do want to do ‘these things’, Cardinal.  Very much so.”  Your irritation at his flippant attitude was gone already and you were back to being embarrassed.  He was right, you could watch shows to try to learn what to do.  But you’d still have to apply what you watched at some point and when you thought of doing that your stomach tied itself into knots.  “I just wish I had someone to show me how.”
Immediately you realized how that sounded and you didn’t dare look up from your joined hands.  He had started rubbing his thumbs across the back of yours, a soothing motion normally, but right now it was making your heart beat a little faster than normal.  You heard him take in a breath and when he spoke again his voice was a lot deeper than it had been before.
“Would you like me to show you, sorella?”  You tried not to nod too eagerly, but yes that was exactly what you’d like him to do.  “Look at me.”
You slowly raised your head and met his eyes again, green and white staring intensely back into yours.
“Will you let me guide you?”
“Yes, Cardinal.  Please.”
He flashed you a brilliant smile and immediately jumped up, tugging on your hands to bring you up to your feet as well.  Terzo brought one of your hands to his mouth and kissed the back of it, smiling again when your cheeks started to turn pink.  Your heart felt like it was going to explode just from that quick touch of his lips, how were you going to survive anything further?
“Come with me to my room and let me take care of you, cara mia.”
It was a request you couldn’t refuse, nodding at him and then reaching down for your rosary before he started tugging you out of the small booth.  There was no one waiting their turn in the chapel, thankfully.  You were also happy not to run into anyone in the halls on the way to his quarters.  It’s not like you’d be the first sibling seen following him there, but you wanted this to be just between you.  
Your heart was racing by the time he had pulled you inside and closed the door.  It continued to race when he led you into his bedroom and your eyes fell upon his bed.  You were so distracted thinking about what was going to happen that when his hands came up to start removing your veil you jumped.  Before you could apologize he had pulled it off and spun you around to face him.
“There is nothing to be frightened of.  I won’t do anything you don’t want me to, ok?”
You nodded, your eyes focused on the glittering grucifix attached to the front of his black cassock.  He let your veil drop to the ground before taking off his biretta and tossing it aside.  His hands began to unwind his belt and then undo his buttons, the fabric falling away from his chest as he went.  Your cheeks were probably going to be permanently red after tonight, but it was worth it to see more and more of his chest exposed.  
“Should I, uh, should I take my clothes off?”
“Only if you want to, sorella.”  His chest was covered with dark hair, your eyes trailed down as his cassock fell to his hips.  The hair continued down his soft belly and didn’t stop until it disappeared underneath the fabric still covering him below his waist.  “But I would love to see your naked body spread out on my bed.  Would you like that as well?”
Oh Lucifer, yes you would.
You couldn’t bring yourself to speak so you began to work on removing your clothes too.  If he noticed your hands trembling he didn’t say anything.  Terzo kicked off his shoes and then tugged the cassock down so it fell to the floor around his feet.  You couldn’t help but squeak at the sight of him naked in front of you.  At the sight of his cock.  You may be a virgin but you weren’t an idiot and you knew judging by how hard he was that he was looking forward to seeing you as well.
The thought of Cardinal Terzo desiring you of all people made your knees weak.  Deep down you knew he was probably like that with everyone that shared his bed.  For now though, for tonight, you allowed yourself to believe that he was only like this with you.  That he only shared himself like this with you.  It was a silly fantasy, because in the end it didn’t really matter.  You wanted him no matter what.  You finished removing your shoes and clothes and let them drop to the floor as well.
“Now wh–”  You couldn’t even finish before his mouth was on yours, his bare fingers sliding into your hair, tangling in the strands.  Your hands came up to rest on his chest as he tugged you closer.  His hair was coarse against your fingers, but it still felt good.  His mouth felt even better though as he continued to kiss you.
Terzo began to gently lead you back towards the bed.  When your legs pressed into the side he let go of your hair to help you up onto the soft mattress.  He pulled his mouth away and climbed on after you, following you like a predator after its prey as you moved back to rest against his pillows.  Your lips felt swollen and your skin was flushed all over at the sight of him above you.  
He began to lower his head and you licked your lips in anticipation of more kisses, but instead he dropped his mouth down to your neck.  His lips were insistent as they moved against the sensitive skin there.  When he nipped at your skin you gasped, but he quickly soothed the hurt with his tongue.  It was a pattern he repeated many times on each side of your neck and you began to mewl each time his teeth touched you.
You decided to mirror his action earlier and you pushed your fingers into his silky, black hair.  Gripping it tighter each time he bit you.  It almost felt like you were in control of him, tugging him back for more if you thought he was pulling away.  You gasped louder when you felt his cock brush against your belly, your body starting to tremble even though he had barely touched you below your neck.
“Terzo, please.”
He pushed up against your hands to stare down into your face, smiling at how flushed you were.  When you started to beg him again he shushed you.
“I want you to feel good, sorella.  Trust me, eh?”
After a moment you nodded and he leaned down to press his lips to yours again, this time sliding his tongue between them to tangle with your own.  You weren’t sure if you were doing it right, but he groaned when you touched your tongue to his own so you did it again and again.  One of his hands gripped your waist briefly before sliding up your chest.  When it closed around your breast and his thumb brushed across your nipple you pulled away from his mouth and moaned.
“That’s it, tell me how it feels.  I want to hear how good I’m making you feel.”
As his thumb continued to tease your nipple he brought his mouth back down to your neck.  He didn’t dwell there for long, soon his lips continued down to your chest before reaching your other breast.  When they closed around your nipple and sucked your body bucked off the bed briefly and you were sure the whole abbey heard you cry out.  
You lost track of how long Terzo gave your breasts attention.  He rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger until it was hard and aching.  His tongue flicked against your other one as he continued to suckle it between his lips.  You were starting to feel dizzy from the feelings building up inside of you.  One of your hands was still tangled in his hair but the other was clutching the pillow under you like an anchor.
When the hand on your breast left you whimpered at the loss, but he slid it down your body until his fingers brushed against your clit.  They began to rub over it immediately and the sensation of that along with his lips still on your nipple had you moaning and clawing at the sheets.  Your orgasm quickly crashed into you and you found yourself taking huge breaths as you came down from it.
Your mind drifted for a bit, but when Terzo moved you focused back on him.  He had pulled away from your chest, rising up onto his knees between your legs.  His lips were swollen, his hair wild and you didn’t think you’d ever seen a more beautiful sight.  A small smirk graced his lips, as if he knew what you were thinking and you almost rolled your eyes.
You were trembling as he dropped his hands to your thighs, giving the flesh a squeeze before sliding them up so that his thumbs teased at the hair between your legs.  His eyes were staring hungrily at your cunt and couldn’t help but whisper ‘please’ although you weren’t even sure what you were asking for.  You wanted his fingers and his mouth again, but you also wanted his cock.  You wanted everything he was willing to give you and you wanted it now.
Terzo seemed to know what you were thinking because he didn’t waste time spreading the lips of your sex with one hand so he could rub two of his fingers from the other against your entrance.  You had touched yourself before, many times, but this was completely different.  His fingers were longer, thicker and he knew exactly what to do.
The longer he spent pushing them in and out of you, stretching you for his cock, the more wild the sounds you were making became.  You were whimpering and moaning so much you were having to take huge gulps of air between them.  Another orgasm felt so close, but you desperately wanted him inside of you when you came again.  
“Terzo, I’m ready.  Oh!  Please, Cardinal.”
He looked away from where his fingers were disappearing into you and gazed back up at your face.  His own face softened by whatever he saw because he finally withdrew his fingers completely.  You whimpered at the loss, feeling suddenly empty without them.  He didn’t waste any time though, Terzo immediately wrapped that hand around his cock. 
It was intense watching him cover himself with your wetness.  His hips pumped in and out of his fist briefly and it was the first time you felt like he didn’t have full control over himself.  You whispered ‘please’ again, biting at your swollen lips when he rubbed the tip against your entrance.  It took another ‘please’ before he finally started pushing in and you threw your head back against the pillow, your mouth open in a silent scream at the sensation.
The initial stretch burned, but it felt good.  More than good it was perfect, everything he had done to you tonight was perfect.  The drag of his cock in and out of you was amazing.  If you weren’t delirious with pleasure you’d be laughing at yourself for how long it took you to get to this point.  Terzo was right, there was nothing wrong with being a virgin, but having his cock inside of you didn’t feel wrong either.
It felt really, really fucking good.
His thrusts started to get more frantic and you wrapped your legs around his waist on instinct.  Terzo leaned over and placed his hands on either side of your head as he continued to move in and out of you.  The new angle made something inside of you snap, your orgasm stealing your breath.  You threw your arms around his shoulders and after a few rough snaps of his hips he groaned and buried his face into your neck.
Neither of you moved for a moment, you were surprised to feel his body trembling a bit just like yours.  It made you feel good that you affected him this way despite your inexperience.  He eventually groaned and pulled away to lay down next to you.  Goosebumps broke out on your skin as your sweat cooled and you could feel his release begin to trickle out of you.  
“So, do you feel any different?”
You scrunched your nose as you stretched a bit.  Some of your muscles already felt sore and tight, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.  The worst feeling was drying sweat and the wetness between your legs.
“I feel a bit sticky.”  Terzo snorted and turned to bury his head in his pillow, his shoulders shaking as he started laughing harder.  You rolled your eyes and swatted him on the shoulder.  “You asked!”
He rolled back over and propped his head up on his elbow so he could smile down at you.  When he didn’t say anything for a moment you raised an eyebrow.
“If you think you’re sticky now just wait until your first orgy.”  You growled and yanked the pillow out from under him, smacking him with it repeatedly as he laughed and begged for mercy.  “Stop, I’m sorry!  Sorella!”
Stickiness aside though, an orgy didn’t sound like such a bad idea to spend the night anymore.
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~
The Sexy Adventures of Cardinal Terzo masterlist
my masterlist
my ao3
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thebahwrites · 1 year
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Slider & Mav + shovel talk...
Slider & Maverick - Shovel Talk (But I'm gonna surprise you <3)
Ron thinks he should be thankful that things worked out between Tom and Pete; it took them long enough after the Layton rescue but he thinks he should be thankful — if it had gone over a year, he'd probably start ripping his hair out. It was even worse not having Goose around to suffer along with but those were thoughts to be buried and not brought up again; the kind that led nowhere and only made him sad to begin with because what else there was to deal?
(Maybe he'd deal with it by himself and a bottle of Jack, when no one was looking.)
But right now, Slider found himself sitting besides Ice who was going over some reports ever so absently, muttering to himself things pertaining to their latest training hop - teaching at Top Gun wasn't a bad place to be so he didn't mind some of these more slowly-trickling days. "What d'you think about Matador Beach?" Tom finally speaks up when Ron was almost dozing off, laying on the couch, he blinks slowly.
"Like... as a place in general or..?" Ice grunts out a small laugh.
"For a date, Kerner." Oh, right, yeah, it made sense. Scratching the side of his neck, all Ron does is shrug, not really thinking too much about it.
"I guess it's fine if you like beaches? Like a picnic or something, right?" Between the two of them, Ron was more impulsive where Tom held back so his dates tended to be a lot less planned than the other's.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." Ice shrugs with that typical self-confidence of his and goes back to pour over his reports. Slider's eyes narrow as he realizes he should probably make sure this whole thing doesn't blow over Ice's face. Not that his friend needs protecting but it's always good to secure and Maverick was a damn menace who often needed corralling so a shovel talk, before things got super serious between those two idiots, was more than due.
It wasn't hard to find Maverick these days, if he wasn't on the tarmac or the bar or the hangar, he was at Carole's. (Whom Slider had been avoiding like the plague and he was sure to get an earful from.) So it was quite easy to, on the very next morning, when out for a run to detour so he'd hopefully find Mitchell there; which he did.
What Ron did not expect was to find said man just sitting on the front steps of the house, staring emptily into the distance with a blank expression and slouched shoulders. For someone who was, quite frankly not particularly tall or big - Maverick often took up a lot of damn space. So much so it was easy to forget the inches he lacked in height, making up for it being loud and brash and seemingly larger than life. The kind to not let himself get hit by anything and even if he did, brushing it off like water off a duck's back. Hell, he had come out of a tragedy into a rescue with what, a week to spare?
(Impressive was the right word but Slider would be damned to say it.)
He stands there, at the corners of the fence, watching Mitchell for a moment longer. In his USNA threadbare shirt and running shorts, the man doesn't move for a good while, like he's bracing himself for something, drawing sharp breaths and then burying his face against the back of a knee.
Ron decides to step back, seems like a bad moment.
Then every moment after that seems like a bad moment.
Maybe because he had never tried to pay close attention to Pete until now or maybe because he had never had the chance, always surrounded by others and the very very least Ice was always there too. Maybe he had never really tried to read more than just their regular banter but in the following days, looking for a breach, Slider realizes just how stupidly vulnerable Maverick is. How he keeps fighting uphill to stand taller than everyone, how he keeps his chin up taking hit after hit both metaphorically and physically when it comes down to it.
Their stupid beach picnic date comes and goes without any kind of hiccup and Slider was still trying to find a way to put Mitchell against the wall but the more time went by, the less he actually felt like doing it. It felt wrong, like kicking someone who was already down and he can't quite put a finger on the why. Maverick was a damn runt, is what he was.
It's exactly a week after that, when Ron realizes why, despite all their bantering and picking and arguing and more often than not headbutting, he can't bring himself to be actually hard on Mitchell. Sure call him slow and overthinking, maybe he just liked to cover all of his bases before spurring into action but for once, it at least panned out when the lamp clicked over his head like a cartoon moment.
"Hey." He calls out to Ice, as they're back where they'd been a week ago but instead of lying flat on the couch, Slider is standing right in front of the desk, grabbing his pilot's paperwork to make him look up, serious intent behind it. Tom looks up with a puzzled and slow blink, putting the papers down. They'd always been on the same wavelength
"Hey, what's up?" Ice picked tone shifts easily, he'd learned how to read Slider like an open book and he was glad for it. It was why, and how, they worked so well together for so long. So he could read the very real seriousness on Ron's voice and the very real intensity behind his eyes, adjusting his posture to make sure Ron knew; he was listening.
"Be good to Mitchell." If anyone, ever, held Ron Kerner to those words, he'd probably deny it. Hell, he wasn't so sure he was even saying them but fuck it if he hadn't rehearsed it inside his head for a while now. Holding Ice's startled gaze with firmness, he held a rigid finger pointing at his pilot's chest. "Don't fuck this up, man. I know you're the best and all so I'm counting on you, don't make me kick your blondie ass, got it?"
Tom stared back, surprised and clearly speechless, a little bit like a startled fish with his mouth falling a little open; Ron wanted to backtrack because it felt weird.
But someone had to keep an eye out for Goose's runt, right?
[Send me a Top Gun / Top Gun: Maverick prompt for a ficlet!]
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goodolddumbbanana · 2 months
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DAD DUCK AND HIS SON SUN AU
Ha ha, I usually a sucker with angst, but I think, this time, my AU will be a little bit funny.
This AU happens from the future, when Sun got captured by Nexus, and in jail, he accidentally makes friend with a new roommate.
The Creator.
His Creator, his father, the person who The only best thing Sun could think of about him was that his Father created Earth.
Get locked up in jail, drugged and craniotomized to the point of unable to think at the very basic level. (It likes with Moon when he got locked up by Eclipse, he is too in pain, he couldn't think anything)
Turn out Creator because of his own ego, got beaten up and played in Dark Sun's hand, and used by Nexus as an experiment day in and day out.
So, because Sun wants to escape, he has no choice but to save and cooperate with his father. Because between they two, Creator is the smart one.
So... To get Creator out of jail and out of these chains and test tube stick in Creator 's brain meat, Sun turns Creator into goose.
They escape together, and with these times they spend, there are a lot of yelling and crying in frustration.
(Because although Creator is so confident in his intelligence, but right now, he has to rely on Sun completely, that pathetic useless son reminds him of his failure so much.
And Sun, even though he hated his father's gut, but he knows Creator is the only way for him to get out.)
So we will have a duo who has to stick with eachother even though they hated eachother so much and will not afraid to stab eachother 's back.
And believe me when I say if you think Moon and Eclipse is bad, this duo is worse.
Because Sun will not hesitated to burn Creator alive if he makes any wrong moves, and Creator who also try to find any of Sun's weakness or strings for him to pull, in the form of a goose.
----
I would want to see more of Sun and Creator. And maybe seeing Creator has some kind of redempt himself, for Sun.
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ladywaffles · 9 months
Text
humpback whales
mavdad + whales: a discord prompt written for @nicejobkid
So here’s the thing.
Bradley Bradshaw was all of eighteen years old with a head full of exactly jackshit nothing when he left Maverick and Iceman’s house on the end of the street. He didn’t know a goddamn thing about being an adult, even if he claimed otherwise. He left behind an entire life: baby pictures and journals and reels of home videos.
He really did think leaving was the only choice he had. In hindsight, it’s the dumbest thing he’s ever done.
On the one hand, he knew it would be fine. The Navy always provides. He got three square meals a day at Basic and an annual physical that he always aced, thanks to a lifetime of playing baseball and racing Maverick around the diamond. His old man had no right sprinting that fast.
But then there’s the other hand: the calendar of shots and immunizations a teenage boy going off to college required, the yearly appointments with an optometrist, a dermatologist, and most crucially of all, a dentist.
Bradley, Iceman always said, was blessed in that he didn’t take after either Goose or Maverick, both of whom had terrible teeth. Their x-rays were surely some kind of dental case study in a textbook somewhere. But Bradley had taken after his mother and Iceman, in this regard: his teeth all came in like ducks in a row, pearly white like ivory piano keys.
Maybe it was just bad timing, maybe it was because his teeth were just that good, but when he enlisted, no one bothered to ask Ensign Bradshaw if he’d ever had his wisdom teeth out.
So fifteen years later, with a toothache so bad it’s finally driven him to the clinic—and isn’t that embarrassing, to survive Maverick Mitchell’s particular brand of insanity, an ejection out of an F-18, a dogfight in a jet that had no business being in the air, and a (controlled!) crash landing, only to be done in by a goddamn toothache—Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw, aged thirty-four, with his newly re-acquired father in tow, has his wisdom teeth removed.
They don’t hook him up with an IV, thank goodness. Instead, they give Maverick a packet of pills to make Bradley take an hour before surgery that will supposedly knock him out for the duration.
As a member of the F-18 Ejection Club, Bradley’s been on the good shit for the past few months. He has sincere doubts about these pills.
“Bottoms up, kiddo,” Maverick tells him, pushing the pills towards him with a cup of coffee. It’s the same mug he gave Maverick for Father’s Day when he was ten years old.
“You’re the worst,” Bradley says, swallowing the pills in one go with a scalding hot gulp.
Later, Maverick will laugh at him over the dinner table as he recounts to Ice what exactly happened when Bradley had his wisdom teeth out. (He really shouldn’t have doubted those pills.)
The meds hit about fifteen minutes after he takes them. It falls to Maverick, all five-foot-and-change of him, to wrangle six-foot-oh of Bradley into the Bronco, strap him in, and haul him back out into the dentist’s office. He vaguely remembers being wheeled into one of the surgery rooms and led to sit on the chair, falling asleep, and then waking up to the dentist telling him they’d finished taking his teeth and they just needed to stitch him up.
He immediately bursts into tears—he hates stitches more than anything—and then conks straight out again.
He doesn’t really remember getting home, only that the next time he wakes up, he’s back in Maverick and Ice’s house, laid out on the couch. Maverick is whistling in the kitchen. He’d covered Bradley with an old blanket. A smart move on his part; Bradley drooled on it in his sleep.
Maverick comes back into the room with two bowls of very boring chicken broth.
“Good morning!” he teases. “I didn’t know you were such a lightweight, ducky!”
“Yuh’re de wurst,” Bradley gums through the cotton gauze in his mouth.
Mav hands him a bowl and a spoon. The broth is barely hot. Gross. He looks up at Maverick with the same baleful expression he used to get dessert before dinner as a kid, but Maverick just laughs at him.
“No dice here, Brads. You’re not getting anything hotter, unless you wanna get your stitches replaced.”
Bradley rolls his eyes and slurps his lukewarm soup.
Maverick flips on the TV. He turns on a nature documentary on humpback whales, then kicks his feet up onto the coffee table, the exact way that Bradley knows Ice doesn’t let him.
He can see straight through Maverick. It’s the same routine he used to do when Bradley would stay home from school sick. Animal Planet never failed to knock him out. It was more effective than anything else at getting him to sleep.
But this time, Bradley finds himself staying awake as he watches this otherwise ordinary whale documentary with Maverick sitting next to him on the couch. He’s an adult now, but Maverick is treating him as if no time has passed. There’s no resentment, no blame, for all the pain he’d caused his father.
He missed moments like this, in the years they spent apart. He’d almost forgotten how nice it was to have someone to care for you.
In the end, Bradley stays awake for the whole movie. It’s Maverick who falls asleep, his head lolling to the side to rest on Bradley’s shoulder. It’s not such a bad place to be, Bradley thinks to himself, trapped on a cozy couch with his dad.
He hits play on the documentary again and settles in closer to Maverick. The whales are pretty cool, after all.
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sparklyslug · 2 years
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hi! if you are still looking for prompts, steve/eddie, one of them cooking or otherwise preparing food for the other one. if you are not still looking for prompts, totally ok! either way, hope things are looking up for you.
Ask Steve a year ago what his favorite food was, he’d probably struggle with the question a little, internally. Say something simple like, a burger. Steak. Pizza. Just because he knows that’s like, what foods people like. Those are the Favorite Food Groups. And he likes them too, likes them plenty. Has just felt kind of food-neutral, honestly, for most of his life. He’s eaten fancy catering at his parents lavish dinner parties, buckets of KFC at modest kitchen tables, and his own simple chicken and broccoli standing up at the counter alone at the house. And felt kind of the same about all of it. Food was food, generally. Favorite didn’t really make sense, as a concept to apply to it. 
That was then, though. He gets it. He has a favorite food now. 
Eddie has tied his hair back with one of his banadas, shoulders on display and almost irresistible in one of the cutoff tanks he likes in the summer, this one an old Hawkins Basketball shirt of Steve’s that also has a hole right over the nipple (why he had initially stopped wearing it, and why Eddie had quickly claimed it before lopping the arms and a good four inches off the bottom of it, because he thinks shit like that is hilarious). The whole look is pretty well calculated to drive Steve out of his mind, a goal Eddie had made short work of just about an hour ago. 
He’d finally pulled himself up off Steve’s chest, face red and glowing, and shook his hair out of his eyes before saying “shit, I could eat. Grilled cheese sound good?”
It did sound good. Sounded fantastic. Sounded like Steve’s favorite food, is what it sounded like. 
So shirt’s back on and hair’s tied back, but Steve is keeping his hands to himself, just sitting back and watching Eddie at work. Head mercifully clear and nicely floaty, body feeling heavy and warm and right, and yeah, definitely ready for some food. 
He’s watched Eddie make his grilled cheese a hundred times or whatever, and he doesn’t get how it turns out so fucking good. It’s not a complicated process. Getting the pan warmed up, buttering both sides of a couple of creamy-white slices of bread. Four slices of plastic-wrapped cheese per sandwich, always, Eddie carefully tearing some of them in half to create even layers, not too much cheese stacked in the middle or at the ends. 
The butter smells amazing at the bottom of the pan. Smells fantastic when the bread hits it with a little pop, a tiny sizzle. 
Eddie’s gorgeous doe eyes are narrowed in concentration as he works, pressing the flat of a spatula down on the top of each sandwich. This is the stage at which Steve is least likely to catch an elbow, while Eddie is just watching the pan and waiting for the universe or some kitchen god to send him a signal that it’s time for the Almighty Flip. 
“Got a gig tomorrow, mmm?” Steve asks, sliding his arms around Eddie’s waist, and tucking his chin over one shoulder. 
“Eddie Munson, unplugged,” Eddie confirms. “Jesus I really have to try and find a band soon.”
“I’ll keep looking in the papers,” Steve promises, with a grin. 
“Send me on another synth-pop goose chase and I will absolutely shave you bald in your sleep,” Eddie swears, brandishing the spatula into the empty space in front of him, since he can’t reach Steve to swat him with it. Small victories. 
“Never again, I promise,” Steve lies. “Think that one’s ready.”
“It’s not,” Eddie says. “I’m nervous about playing acoustic, man.”
Steve knows he is, he’s been jittery about it ever since he confirmed with the organizer that he’d be playing the open mic. “You’ll kill it,” Steve says. Squeezes him a little tighter, enjoying Eddie’s little bitchy oof of protest. “You don’t need an amp to blow the roof off the place.”
Eddie ducks his head a little, shy and pleased. Steve presses his lips against the top notch of his spine, nosing Eddie’s hair out of the way to get to skin. 
Enjoys the way Eddie shivers a little, the skin at the back of his neck maybe extra sensitive because of how it’s covered all the time. It’s a theory Steve is happy to keep exploring for a good, long while. 
“Okay,” Eddie says, softly. “Now this one is ready.”
Steve peers over his shoulder. “I have no idea how you can tell that.”
Eddie shrugs, and Steve knows his face has got to be fucking smug as hell without even being able to fully see it. “What can I say,” he says. “I’m a man of many talents.”
Well, that’s just a fact, and Steve starts listing them in an undertone directly into Eddie’s ear, until Eddie is shifting a little in his arms, and laughing, and elbowing him out of the way just when Steve feels his breath catch, the shift in his hips– “sit the fuck down, you animal,” Eddie says, twisting enough to sink a hand in Steve’s hair and reel him in for a quick, sweet kiss. “Food first, seduction later.”
“You’re too good to me,” Steve says. It doesn’t… ah, fuck. It doesn’t come out even remotely like a joke. 
Eddie though, Eddie’s eyes just go soft. His full, gorgeous lips twist into a small smile. “Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart. Now. Plates and napkins, please.”
Steve obeys, though they don’t even really need them– Eddie slices the finished sandwiches into neat triangles on the cutting board, and hands one right off to Steve, still loitering and half-draped over him. The cheese is perfectly melted and gooey in the middle, the bread crisped just right and saturated with golden melted butter. The noise he makes at the first bite is genuine bliss, eyes closing to savor the taste. When he opens them again, Eddie’s holding the other half of the sandwich in his hands, eyes on Steve, mouth a little open like he’d lost track of what they were doing here. 
The noise Steve makes at the second bite, okay, that’s for show. And Eddie knows it, kicking a bare foot at his shin with a laugh. 
They polish off the sandwiches in no time at all. You want to savor something that perfect, Steve thinks, but it’s hard to take it slow when you know how good every bite will be. And when you know there’s a bed waiting for you at the end of it, a bed with Eddie Munson in it, and a whole afternoon stretched blissfully ahead of you both. 
Yeah. Favorite food. Grilled Cheese By Eddie Munson. No question.
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