#Space Cowboy Tee

[freshthoughts2020]

[sweetcitrusboi]

appreciating the jackles stache in all its glory

[octuscle]

Hey, I’m definitely feeling the post Halloween blues. I’m not quite ready for Christmas and when I was younger I wasn’t allowed to celebrate Halloween. Now I’m in uni I’ve been celebrating but I’m in my third year and my last chance to do it with my mates had just gone. I wish I could have an even longer experience. More costumes, different parties. Being a cowboy, cop, prisoner, Ken, pirate, superhero. I just feel like I’ve not done much. Plus I’m skinny so my costumes haven’t been as fun as I’d wanted. Any chance you can help?

Shit… You blink your eyes once, and Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter are already over. I do have hope that your blues have subsided by now… But just in case:

I mean, bro, strictly speaking, it's not a costume. You need something to flex your bod. And the tee really hypes up all your hard-earned gains. And if you hit the streets like this at night, all the lads will give you some space. Except for the ones who know what you're packing. Bro, embrace a bit of Helloween in spring!

[beansprean]

If Nandor’s “eat prey love” journey didn’t include a tearful vent session in a gay bar in Austin, TX with a drag queen named Rascal Fatts, idek what’s real anymore.

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Nandor sitting at a bar in his red fancy coat and a sparkly pink cowboy hat, slumped over the bar with an undrunk tumbler of liquor cupped between his palms. He is clearly mid-rant, frowning mouth open and a tear falling from one eye. Next to him is a drag queen, her blonde hair styled in a giant Texan beehive, wearing purple plastic hoop earrings, a tattoo choker, a denim jacket, and a tight pink top that her tits are spilling out of. She has one hand (with long sparkly acrylics) resting comfortingly on Nandor’s shoulder and the other holding an empty tumbler. There is empty tall glass on the bar next to her. She is nodding and listening as Garth Brooks’s “Friends In Low Places” plays in the background. 2. Close up on Nandor, sparkly cowboy hat removed and pressed to his chest as he bows his head, a single tear falling from his eye. In the background, a vision of Guillermo appears amidst a swirl of purple galaxies. He is wearing a brown vest and cowboy hat and smiling, surrounded by sparkles. Text at the bottom reads “see you space cowboy…” 3. Waist up of Nandor standing with a happy grin, hands on hips. He has a brown tee shirt on over his usual white undershirt with a logo of two horses running and the words “save a horse, ride a cowboy.” /end ID

[oneforthemunny]

I need more lore, I need more background, I need more angst (sorry). What were each couple's worst fight about? I'm nosy. *tee hee*

I know Rockstar!Eddie's biggest fight was about his drug use near the children; I assume Mafia!Eddie's would have been his lack of regard for recovery after being shot, but what about the other couples??

oooh ok angsty time

so older!eddie has like two big ones. one is take it to the end of the line where bunny takes brie to a concert out of town and they get in a big fight over it. the second is when delilah is born, probably around toddler time, and you’re trying to navigate parenting together. you feel inferior bc he’s done this before, he’s trying to do everything right that he didn’t do the first time, and you just have a big blowout from lack of communication.

modern!eddie and mean girl have a few. the big one is because they’re really immature. living together really causes a lot of issues, because they’re not used to being together all the time, sharing a space. there’s no facade anymore. there’s one where he’s not helping around the house, she’s not really telling him (bc he doesn’t know but he should so it’s kinda like they’re both at fault). they have a blowout, he gets kicked out. they break up for a while and get back together pretty quickly.

cowboy!eddie’s honestly lack of communication. he won’t talk about things that upset him, won’t really talk when she says things upset her, just kinda like ignores it until it goes away or just apologizes and never wants to talk. there’s one that’s like the final straw where she leaves bc he won’t talk to her about things, “if you don’t want to talk, then we don’t have to. you win, eddie!” and he’s a fucking wreck. really it’s learning to communicate when there’s an issue and boundaries and stuff.

janitor!eddie gets insecure a lot. he gets jealous a lot. there’s times he goes through “you’re cheating on me” anytime she speaks to a guy- any guy. just bc he’s insecure. it turns into a “why don’t you trust me? why would you think i’d do that?” and he’s one of those self blamers to the point it feels like he’s a victim (he doesn’t mean to but he does) and they have to work on it bc it’s bad. the feelings and accusing and then spiraling after, how to healthy cope and not do that bc it’s bad for everyone.

bouncer!eddie is such a flirt that it causes a lot of issues. he does it some times just for fun but then takes it too far, and there’s a lot of fights about that. bordering on cheating type thing.

dom!eddie is because he has to feel superior all the time in their dynamic in the bedroom and sometimes it goes too far out of the bedroom. when he starts trying to be controlling outside the bedroom, that’s when there’s a lot of issues. he embarrasses her once out with friends, trying to be controlling but brings the bedroom out into the open and that causes a major fight and it should.

[werebutch]

I shouldn’t complain because the only reason I’m pretentious about this is because I’ve spent pretty much my entire life from the age of 12 in liberal (as a youngin) or leftist lgbt feminist spaces online so I’m already over most ideas. but it DOES disappoint me a little that my pansexual hetero-married sex and gender professor is still in the ���gotcha” phase of liberalism. Which I guess is really the only phase of liberalism, but you know what I mean. You know when you’re 13 and you are obsessed with shock factor gay rights or whatever. I had an excuse because I was 13, you know the stuff. Like guys….god..is a woman…TEE HEE! 🤭 actually, well, did you know that..some cowboys…WERE GAY!!!!!!!!! 🤭 well actually, did you know, that your favorite music artist is actually GAYYYYYY!!!!!! LOL!! YOU ACTUALLY LIKE GAY PEOPLE!! YOU CANT BE HOMOPHOBIC!!!!Did you know!??Gotcha!!!! 🤭 it is tiring can we have an actual intelligent conversation without the well known stupid asf things like dis. I don’t care. HELP!

[ilovesmg3]

[ StoatCircut Playlist ] [ Art by @.GhostFink on Twitter ]

[ This is a collection of songs that fit their ship dynamic, them solo etc! Some people were asking about them (Thank youuu!!) and I wanted to share some songs since I find it easier to express dynamics/general personality through music. Enjoy! ]

[ Also, the lyrics that suit them (P03 and C4-RTER) THE MOST are here listed, I'm really excited to share all of these with all of you. Thank you so, so much. I genuinely can't thank you enough for the support I've gotten. (3 ]

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

[ Your Stupid Face by Kaden MacKay ] [ Ship // How He Fell ]

" I just really hate your face Though I know that won't surprise you //

And if the world was perfect, you would've never invaded my space But since the world's obsessed with saying, "Psych!" //

I just really like your face You don't have to look so happy I'm not really into love that you flaunt In some glittery font But if that's what you want Make it snappy //

And if the world was perfect, you would be here in my embrace But since the world denied me one last kiss I'll just miss your stupid face //

And though we go together like a Chanel No. 5 and mace At least it's not as dull as fitting like a glove 'Cause you're a nightmare that I've not been dreaming of But I suppose that when push comes to shove Fine! I love your stupid face "

[ Metallic Madness Zone Act 2 by Naofumi Hataya & Tee Lopes ] [ Solo, "Him IRL" Song ]

" I'm an evil doctor with a rad genius And bad minions To help me sink the planet into my dominion A baddie with an I.Q. like you've never seen I'm the meanest, vilest villain that's ever been on your screen! //

I'm iconic With my bionic animatronics Got a chronic knack to catch the hedgehog they call "Sonic" My temper is atomic! My mustache is on fire! Welcome to the new world, Eggman Empire!"

[ Cabinet Man by Lemon Demon ] [ Solo, "Him IRL" Song ]

" The news reporters reported that I died But all my organs were living on inside Circuit board to brain with two lungs collecting change One big human heart gently beeping //

You can't win me, I can't be beat I won't hurt you unless you cheat You can't see me behind the screen I'm half human and half machine //

I'm happy for years and years And, only eating the occasional maintenance man Only driving a few kids to madness Maybe they were predisposed to madness, who knows? I only want to have fun "

[ ROOM FOR 2 by Benson Boone ] [ How Both See (3 ]

" At your deepest lows When you hit the ground again And you feel alone All you know is emptiness When you're walking circles And there's no end And your feet are tied Tryna catch your breath again //

When the world don't feel like home I'm a place to call your own You can stay forever through When you're barely holding on I'll be anything you want Open up my heart for you Baby, I got room for two //

Every day I fall For another part of you And the nights get cold Whenever I'm too far from you With every breath you take from my chest Try to understand //

I'm always right there with you every step. "

[ Heaven by Kane Brown ] [ How Both See (3 ]

" This is perfect Come kiss me one more time I couldn't dream this up Even if I tried You and me in this moment Feels like magic, don't it? I'm right where I wanna be //

Everybody's talkin' about heaven like they just can't wait to go Sayin' how it's gonna be so good, so beautiful Lyin' next to you, in this bed with you, I ain't convinced 'Cause, I don't know how, I don't know how Heaven, Heaven Could be better than this "

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

[ I added a country song because I deeply believe that P03 adores cowboys, I stand by this forever and always. I like to think that P03 plays horses and builds little robot cowboys and horses for his son C0G5 to play with. Okay bye!!! ]

[sporesgalaxy]

Real curious about trigun but I got three questions:

1) what's up with the Christian vibes?

2)the blond guys (plants???) have trans vibes, actual coding or just an accident? (fine either way just curious)

3) what's the plot? Space cowboys?

Anyways Millie is cool, (I once mistook the girl typically next to her for that guy from genshin impact)

1) Christian vibes are why I want to lock myself in a room for a month and emerge with a 3 hour video essay about Trigun very very badly right now.

Trigun spends a lot of time exploring Forgiveness, Mercy, and Redemption, which are famously also the themes of Jesus' wacky adventures in the New Testament.

But. You know how in the old testament there was like a bunch of Divine Wrath and stuff? And it feels really incongruent with the forgiveness in the New Testament sometimes. And also for many centuries Christians have cited God's divine acts of wrath as justification for incredible acts of cruelty against their fellow man? You know how that history of cruelty and punishment is, at this point, just as synonymous with Christianity as the Jesus Forgiveness stuff?

Well Trigun is about how the Jesus Forgiveness stuff is better. Not because Jesus said so but because of the enormous OBSERVABLE positive impact that forgiveness and redemption can have. Positive impact that wrath and retribution rob all parties involved of the chance to witness.

Trigun tells a story which demonstrates this in largely secular situations but underscores both the forgiveness and the wrath with divine imagery. And since both the forgiveness and the wrath are equally visually tied to the divine, symbols of divinity cannot be considered synonymous with perfection, unerring judgement, nor inherent rightness or goodness. Divinity becomes simply a symbol of power, and power is a double-edged sword as well. The power to do good is also the power to cause massive harm, and in many cases people will treat power pessimistically out of an understandable will for self-preservation.

But power is neither inherently good nor bad-- power ultimately reflects the flawed and fallible person weilding it. I could go on but this is really long so I'll stop lol :)

WAIT. Divinity = Power, Angels are the symbol of Divinity, Angels are messengers of God, Communication and connecting with others is emphasized, Communication = Power = Divinity ok I'll stop for real tee hee

2) I don't know if the trans coding was intentional, but HOLY SHIT is it THERE.

Most blatantly, Vash and Knives are Plants, and every other Plant we see is referred to as a woman/has female secondary sex characteristics.

Also Plants visually resemble angels, and it's common belief angels do not have gender like humans do since they are pure and holy beings. I couldn't quickly find a source for that, but I know that Alchemy has some emphasis on hermaphroditism as, like, the holier form. So I guess by that logic you could also say they're intersex but I'm veering off topic.

Thirdly in the 1998 anime they gave the child versions of Vash and Knives long hair that ended up being cut off in ways that symbolized important developments in their identities. Knives example is what I have on hand lol. It just smacks of transgenderism.

3) DEEP SPACE PLANET FUTURE GUN ACTION!!!!

Wacky space cowboy Vash the Stampede roams the space desert planet where humans are barely hanging onto survival using the tech of their spacefaring ancestors! He can shoot with perfect accuracy, and is wanted for DESTROYING AN ENTIRE CITY, but is a staunch pacifist?! How odd!

What's Vash's deal? What happened that made humans unable to go back to space? Why'd they land on this desert planet that sucks to live on? Learn this and much more in TRIGUN!

[because-she-goes]

warm

warnings: drinking, fashion references, swearing, yeehaw! matty’s hands, a sprinkle of doom and almost no dialogue. Enjoy!

Matty’s rugged hand reached out to Thea as she took a final, long sip of her admittedly quite shitty gin and tonic. They had gone out to a different bar that evening, Matty grumbling about how he could just make her drinks at home and they'd be worlds better than whatever the young trainee bartender could whip up. She giggled at this and pleaded with him to get dressed and put on his nicest pair of boots - preferably ones without mud stains. He agreed to go under one condition, that he pick her outfit for this particular outing.

The outing in question? A line dancing night with a live band and $5 drinks. To be honest, nothing sounded better to Thea than cheap alcohol and loud music and Matty’s large hands on her hips after the week she’s had at work. Khaite had pulled out of a spread about how higher end, quite luxurious designers were now entering the denim game. This left Thea scrambling as she had to track down new jeans to feature in her piece and ones that would especially photograph well. Her and her team had ended up landing on Bottega Venetta’s denim printed leather pants and how seemingly from a distance, they are jeans up until you are able to touch and feel them. The likes of Kate Moss and Kendall Jenner had been seen wearing them. It was a wonderful innovation and far more worthy of the magazine space than the regular khaite jeans. A trick on the eyes, like Matty.

When they had met, Thea assumed Matty would be your typical Texan cowboy who was stiff and tight lipped and totally disinterested in anything that went against the usual machismo that came with that title. As the weeks progressed, she had learned that Matty was very interested in her job and what she did for a living and her world, additionally he was a phenomenal dancer and a breathtaking guitar player. After work sometimes, he would play her a lullaby on his acoustic or they’d dance around half-drunk in her kitchen to everything from Buddy Holly to Bruce Springsteen.

He was an enigma, just as she was.

Since knowing each other, Thea had become fond of Matty’s little surprises. Always keeping her guessing. He was a hidden gem, a diamond in the rough. Externally, he was the typical Texan guy… imagine Ennis from Brokeback Mountain, completely disinterested in dealing with his own emotions and confronting them. However, the few times Thea had caught Matty singing softly late at night while strumming away it was like she had an MRI of his heart, able to see every nook and cranny of him, every last thing he held dear. He was unexpectedly tender.

Even now as he held her while they danced to the sounds of bluegrass, the fabric of her soft, feminine, embroidered pink dress crinkled under his calloused hands. It was frilly, it was delicate, it was vintage Valentino - all things Thea loved. It swung around just above her knees as Matty swayed and moved behind her. It was his favorite dress of hers, that was another thing Thea had learned… Matty loved vintage shopping and finding clothes that seemed from another time. He loved an old beat up pair of Levis that fit him perfectly and he especially found joy in finding flannel shirts from the 80s. They had made a deal to pick out the other’s outfit and Thea had really done some of her finest work. A perfectly worn white tee shirt, dark navy straight leg Levis 501s, a silver and brown chunky western belt and a beautiful gray Prada sweater. Perfectly Matty. Her cowboy.

It was as she took in her surroundings and fully drank in the moment that she felt his warm breath hit the shell of her ear. It ghosted over her skin, the smell of his Tom Ford cologne filling the air around the two, she immediately felt heady and warm. Drunk on the feeling of him and no longer on the shitty fucking drink. Her feet stumbled a bit as they continued trying to keep up with the group line dancing around them. Music drowning out his voice and yet she still heard him clear as a bell…

“Be my baby… Thea, be mine.”

“Happily, my love.” Fuck it, into her doom she went - head full of dreams and optimism. Head full of him. What a fool.

[sheeppop]

This is kelly my space cowboy tee hee Her name is kelly richardson but she calls herself kelly galactic

[hctbxed]

𓏲  *   ( paul mescal, cismale, he/his )   ⸺   pictures of ATTICUS REID,  the  twenty-eight  year  old  photographer,  have been showing up all over my feed, and considering the last time they were #trending, it was due to posting embarrassing poetry about his ex on instagram — i’m not likely to unfollow anytime soon. with their plain white tee threaded with the finest cotton, levi 501s cuffed at the ankle, doc marten suede slingbacks & an ancient denim jacket that smells of cigarettes. they’ve managed to garner a reputation for being more vehement than reticent. their critics say that they’re more saturnine than cabalistic when they aren’t too busy focusing on their at a freshly popped! cork, crimson sloshes into a glass ,musk and berry hesitates before the syrupy acidity slips across your tongue,  &  the thunderstorm that brews between furrowed brows is a treacherous one, a magpie will see shine and expect something fantastical but those up close know better than to entertain riches. an abandoned shoreline. easy. breathe. those golden spectacles that pry into your toes and make home there for weeks. a deep breath as the tide washes away. bitterness - coffee, wine - he is not for the faint - hearted as he is not one of faint heart. malignants dance around his bed frame with taunts that fall from spiked tongues, blood is drawn until you awake with a start. reputation.com has taken to calling them SPACE COWBOY in order to avoid a lawsuit ( again ).  ──  

𝐢

his story starts washed in crimson; the sky burns with the knowledge of heartbreak, a shattered muscle torn from the chest and crumbled into pulp across the width of a fist. it’s not a dark and stormy night when atticus is placed upon the steps of an orphanage buried deep in the veins of new york, his awakening limbs wrapped up in plaid blankets like the opening scene of a hollywood picture. the sun fizzles, pride has made way for humility as darkness sweeps in, the stoic buzz of the cicadas steady in the evening breeze. a city that never sleeps is stirring, the streets alive with unfinished romances and subdued goodbyes. it’s parents who he’ll never get to know that slink into the shadows, press the doorbell and run because running is all they’ve ever known. he doesn’t cry as he’s lifted into strange arms, coddled by the strength of a bicep. it’s almost as if he’s aware, even in his innocence, that this feeling will become all too familiar to him, to fall in love brilliantly but fleetingly.

𝐢𝐢 but life never seems to reflect the glitz and glamour of the movies; he learns this firsthand; the city is disgusting - a rotting corpse of the age of romance. he grows up under multiple roofs - the people who take him in more cruel and gluttonous than the next, ruled by the exchange of power as though the world is held in the fists of people who like to break things; he watches through tired eyes as dreams are crushed and devoured beneath the tongue of the devil. the skylines are drained of hope, a lacklustre enthusiasm seeps from the pores of the street and rusts the ground with a filmy layer of melancholy. he spends his childhood with families who will never love him because they can’t love themselves - it’s a blur of melancholy & an ache in his bones, he feels more alone than ever.

𝐢𝐢𝐢 he finds solace behind the cool metallic touch of a camera ; had fallen for the lens from a young age, capturing life’s most beautiful ugly moments - crooked teeth and broken hearts, greetings & goodbyes, scars and bruises, tear stained cheeks and crinkled eyes. he has a talent for it too, and the portraits he posts on social media of his friends soon begin to create traction. it’s always people he photographs, rather than places or products, uses a soft hand to coax his models into vulnerability, his pictures always hauntingly delicate. 

𝐢𝐯

currently freelances but has done shoots for various vogues, paper, rolling stone, the new yorker etc.

personality wise he is kind of mysterious.. doesn’t really talk about his past which he is slightly hardened by, but he’s also a LOVER BOY so he can be naive/co-dependent when it comes to relationships… he definitely looks for the good/beauty in everything. 

a good friend to have, always has a j*int in the pocket of his jeans or tucked behind his ear. 

has a hard case of imposter syndrome

terrified everybody is going to leave him one day :(

definitely has an instagram like c*le spr*use of pictures of people taking pictures of him

[anderseva]

now it's just too late to choose me || morgeva

WHO: Morgan Weston @morgan-weston, & Eva Anderson

WHERE: Little bistro near campus

WHEN: Wednesday, October 23rd

WHY: Morgan needs to be honest about his feelings for Eva, Puck, and Serena — and obviously it doesn't go over well.

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan sat at the bistro table, his hat resting on the chair beside him, the sun casting long shadows over the cobblestone street. He swirled the mimosa in his glass, watching the bubbles rise through the pale peach liquid. It wasn’t the kind of drink he’d normally go for, but after the week he’d had, he figured trying something new couldn’t hurt. He still hadn't tasted it - just ordered it, knowing that it was what Eva craved. And if he wanted to get into her good graces, he was ready to do anything the goddess asked for. The week-long lockdown had been tense, but here, in this sun-drenched bistro, with the hum of casual conversation around him, it felt like everything was back to normal. Somewhat normal. Morgan's meeting with Puck hadn't been normal, at all. And Morgan, trying to get better at the talking and communication part of this whole thing, felt that it was only necessary that he talk to Eva about it. Pushing the sleeves of the brown plaid shirt up his arms, Morgan heard footsteps that resembled Eva's - god, he'd memorized her footsteps, he was so far gone. His head shot to her direction, and when he saw her walking towards him, he stood up quickly, not able to help the goofy smile on his face. "Hey," He greeted her softly, and motioned for her to take a seat at the table. "I ordered mimosas - I figured I'd just cut to the chase, y'know?" He couldn't help but let his eyes scan her, take her all in. She looked so damn gorgeous. Clearing his throat, he sat once she did too, and filled up her glass. "Is it nice bein' back in your own bed?"

EVA ANDERSON 

Eva should have been more hesitant about just jumping head first back into this comfortable space with Morgan, yet somehow, her dumbass had breezed past being cautious and was already flirting with him and agreeing to meet him for lunch. She'd canceled her classes for the week, deciding that she needed the equivalent of that lockdown to get herself, and her stupid emotions, back in check before she could adjust back to normal. But the one normal thing she could handle was getting herself together, since Puck and Morgan had both seen her crying and in disgusting clothes last time, she at least made sure to throw on ripped jeans, and low cut but totally casual black tee, and a pair of black heels before she made her way to the bistro. She wasn't the least bit surprised that Morgan heard her before he even saw her, and she had to bite back a smile of her own as he stood and smiled at her. "Hi." She responded as she sat down, already eyeing the mimosas. If this was him trying to get back in her good graces, he was off to one hell of a start. "Thank you." She finally smiled as he filled up her glass, and she instantly reached out and picked the glass up, taking a sip of the familiar flavor. "You know this is just champagne and juice, right?" Eva asked, downing the rest of the contents in the glass before sitting it down again. "It's amazing being back in my own bed, my own space, in my own clean clothes. If that ever happens again, I'm risking it and walking my ass home anyways. But what about you?"

MORGAN WESTON

Biting his lip, the tall cowboy could see that the beautiful goddess in front of him was trying to hold back on her smile, probably not wanting to give too much away, and he could respect that. He'd been a fool, after all. Acted like and with his dick, and there was no way he could take that back. But he loved making her smile, so as he watched the drink fill up her glass, the fizz bubbling in the air, his eyes followed it until it was full, before landing on Eva's face, finally seeing her crack that gorgeous smile of hers. And it was worth every single second. Flagging down a waiter, Morgan didn't hesitate to motion for another bottle - he wanted to keep the girl in front of him as happy as he could. Raising his eyebrows, he was shocked at the easy recipe. "Is that all? I thought it required a whole mixology course, or somethin'," Morgan said, a grin growing behind his beard. He couldn't help but chuckle when she threatened walking home next time something like this was to happen. It had been the longest week of his life, and he'd once spent two weeks sleeping in a barn, during a blizzard in Montana. He'd take the frostbite anytime, over this. Nodding, he raised the glass to his lips and took a sip, tasting the sweet from the peach juice and the sour from the champagne. It was a weird mix. "Yeah, I'm definitely thankful to be back. I can't tell you how much I've missed my own coffee machine," he chuckled, a hand coming up to scratch the back of his head. "I like this," Morgan motioned to the champagne flute in his hand, smacking his lips as he tasted it on his tongue. "It sure ain't a cold shower beer after a long day of work, but I can see it doin' the trick on a slow Sunday around noon, that's for certain," he leaned forward, putting the glass down, his eyes connecting with Eva's. "I've missed you," he admitted softly, and while he wanted to reach out and take her hand, he didn't. Instead, he hesitated before speaking again. "Have you talked to Puck recently?"

EVA ANDERSON

Raising a brow as Morgan wasted no time flagging someone down to get another bottle, Eva refilled her glass with the current one, and then mixed in just enough peach to really give her the effect she was going for. "Nah, the secret to mimosas is pouring the champagne into your glass. Most people do an even 50/50 with the champagne and juice, but some people, like me, like a good 75/25 to have more champagne. And when you go bottomless, just go through about 4 or 5 bottles between two people and you'll be as lit as you would be with beer or a few shots of something." She explained before sipping down some more. Did she need bottomless mimosas while she was with Morgan? Probably not. But was she going to indulge in them anyways? Hell yeah. Nodding as he seemed just as happy to be out of the hell hole of lockdown, she smiled when he did seem to like the mimosa too. "I knew you would." She teased. "Maybe the next time you make breakfast, I'll keep these flowing." She suggested before realizing that him cooking breakfast would imply that she'd spent the night with him, which she was trying hard not to think about since the odds of it happening any time soon were probably limited. And then his admission didn't quite help, instead tugging at something inside of her now. "I know. I've missed you too." Why was she admitted that now too? Eva was mentally kicking herself for it, as if crying in his arms and admitting it in lockdown hadn't already been enough, yet she couldn't take it back. When he mentioned Puck, she nodded her head slowly. "Yeah, the day after lockdown. Santana summoned me over, so I basically told him everything I told you, with a few additional notes, give or take." She hummed. "Have you?"

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan smiled as Eva explained her secret to mimosas, admiring the way she seemed so at ease, her eyes glinting with mischief as she sipped her drink. He’d never been much of a champagne guy, but there was something about seeing her happy that made him willing to try anything she suggested. And she was right, of course - he liked it more than he thought he would. “Next time I make breakfast, huh?” he teased back, though her words made his heart skip. The idea of her waking up in his place again, of cooking for her, of things being right between them - it was a dream he'd been trying to bury for a while now. He'd thought back to those mornings when he'd gotten out of bed at the crack of dawn, leaving Eva in his bed to sleep for as long as she could. It always fit perfectly with Morgan being able to go outside to feed the horses and clean out their stalls, before coming back into the shower, and start up a breakfast for Eva and him, before he would hear the pitter patter of her feet coming down the stairs and into the kitchen. Despite there only being a few of these mornings, he loved them so damn much, and missed them more than anything. But there she was, nudging at it like it wasn’t out of reach. His fingers tapped lightly against his glass, a small smile on his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. 'I've missed you.' The words from her cut deeper than he'd expected, reminding him just how much he'd been carrying around with him. Every damn day in that lockdown, he’d thought about her and Puck - about them. He nodded when she mentioned Puck, his jaw tightening just a bit. “Yeah... I talked to him,” he said, voice steady but careful. "Did he- uhh...did he tell you everything that happened during his lockdown?" Morgan asked, again hesitantly. He hated being the bearer of bad news so much. He looked at her, searching her face, trying to read her reaction. Did she already know? Did it change anything for her, the way it was gnawing at him?

EVA ANDERSON

Eva rolled her eyes playfully when of course Morgan pointed out the comment about breakfast, because of course he would. She really couldn't blame him, all things considered. They had all pointed out how they'd missed each other, which included everything they did together, not just the sex. Given that she hated cooking, it was nice having not one but two men who were amazing cooks, and didn't hesitate to let her lay in their bed while they cooked for her. In fact, that was one of the things she'd missed most. But she'd be getting ahead of herself to start thinking about that right now. Downing more champagne, she just needed them to change the subject to something else, anything else really. Memories of what being in his bed after a night together wasn't the stroll she needed to take today, especially not while drinking, so they needed to focus on something else. And when she noticed the way he reacted to her asking if he'd talked to Puck, she could already tell she wouldn't like where this was going. Quickly downing the rest of her mimosa, and then refilling the flute with just champagne, she raised a brow at the question being thrown back her way. "Everything? I'm not sure what that means, but all I know is that he wouldn't tell me how he hurt his hand. Just said it was a minor injury and seemed like he didn't want to talk about it, and I was too emotional to fight it out of him, so I just didn't bother pushing." Eva hummed, tossing back more of the champagne as a waiter stopped by to take their order. "Is this a conversation that'll last however long it'll take them to make the food?" She asked Morgan, since he clearly had more information than she'd been given from Puck.

MORGAN WESTON 

Morgan chuckled softly at Eva’s playful eye roll. There was something comforting about their banter, even when the conversation edged into a more dangerous territory. But her quick shift to downing more champagne made him wonder if maybe he’d gone too far by bringing Puck into the mix. Still, they couldn’t dance around it forever, right? Especially not after everything. He noticed how she seemed to steel herself when he mentioned talking to Puck, and it tugged at him, knowing this wasn’t where either of them wanted the conversation to go. As the waiter stopped by, Morgan ordered something light, not wanting anything too heavy to weigh them down while navigating this emotional tightrope. He took a slow sip of his mimosa, trying to decide how to tread carefully. “Guess it might take that long,” he said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood for a second before his expression softened. “Look, I know you don’t want to get into all this now. But I just don’t want us to have any more secrets. We’ve had enough misunderstandings, you know? And I’m really tryin’ my damnedest to communicate and tell y’all what I’m thinking’ and feeling before I do anything.” He leaned back, running a hand through his hair, the smile fading as he got serious. “Puck didn’t tell you ‘cause it wasn’t just some minor injury. He got drunk,” Morgan paused, watching her closely to gauge her reaction. “Eva, he slept with someone else. Then punched the wall,” He breathed in deeply, trying to figure out how to follow up on it. “When he told me, he started comparin’ himself to his dad. I don’t know Gabe, but I know for a fact that he ain’t him. So I might’ve said something’ harsh in return. But, err-…how d’ya feel so far?”

EVA ANDERSON 

As if them flirting over texts hadn't been pushing it enough, Eva found them slipping right back into old habits in person too just as dangerous. After all, them flirting was what had led to them becoming anything at all, let alone building to the throuple, so she knew they had to keep this limited as much as possible. But the shift in the vibes when Puck was mentioned sort of let her know where this was going, and she sighed as she ordered herself a simple BLT, just in case she ended up needing to take it to go. She raised a brow as Morgan explained his angle here, and she was both surprised and proud that at least someone else was trying to keep them all on the same page like she had been with her whole confession thing. But as she watched him shift in his seat and his demeanor switch up, Eva was now unnerved as she didn't know what to expect. She kept sipping down champagne as Morgan started speaking again, and as soon as he told her exactly what Puck had done during lockdown, she sighed. "Not fucking surprised." She muttered under her breath. Of course that's what he'd done. Him comparing himself to Gabe she could also see, but that didn't quite explain him going to fuck someone else in lockdown. But she also couldn't imagine what having Gabe Puckerman's voice in your head repeatedly telling you that you weren't good enough was like. Taking it all in, she shrugged. "I met the man for less than half an hour and wanted to kick his ass because of how he talked to and about Puck, so I mean I get that sort of thing ringing in your ear, but...I'm not sure how that pushed him into sleeping with someone else?" Eva hummed. "But what did you say in return?"

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan watched Eva, the tension in her shoulders and the way she sipped her champagne faster than before. This wasn’t how he’d hoped their conversation would go, but there was no avoiding it. And when she muttered under her breath, he had to bite back a smirk. Not that any of this was funny, but it was just so… them. Honest to a fault, even when it hurt. He fiddled with the edge of his napkin, the familiar scent of the bistro mixing with the faint tang of champagne on his own lips. As she shrugged, trying to make sense of Puck’s choices, he nodded, feeling the weight of what she’d said. He didn’t know all the details of what Gabe had been like, as a father to Puck, but from what he’d gathered, it was enough to make anyone question everything. “Yeah, I don’t get it either,” Morgan admitted, letting out a long breath. “I know Gabe messed him up, but that doesn’t justify it, not really. Just... explains where his head might’ve been at.” He was quiet for a second, running a thumb over the condensation on his glass. Eva was right - how Gabe talked about Puck had rubbed him the wrong way too, and he’d only heard the stories secondhand. But what was worse was thinking about how deeply those words seemed to have sunk into Puck’s bones. When she asked what he’d said in return, Morgan’s jaw tightened slightly. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I basically told him to stop comparin’ himself to Gabe, and that I’m here, once he’s figured out who he is,” He bit his lip, not knowing if it was too harsh or not. He let out a slow breath, leaning back again. “I don’t know if it sank in, but I meant it, Eva. We can’t keep letting misunderstandings and doubts eat away at what we built. We’re all hurtin’, but the only way we stand a chance at making this work is by laying it all out there," he took a deep breath, before looking up at Eva with a furrow. "D'ya think I was too harsh?"

EVA ANDERSON 

Eva was relieved that at least they were on the same page with not understanding how Gabe's bullshit messed Puck up during the lockdown and pushed him into drinking and fucking someone else. She had questions about it, and she was also angry about it, but most importantly, she had never felt more vindicated than she did now after saying what she'd said to Puck. She had known she was right about how she felt but this just backed that up, and it also explained why there wasn't any push back from him about it either. Deciding that the fucking mimosa flute wasn't even worth it at this point, she grabbed the now half empty bottle of champagne. "Hey, waiter! We need another bottle." She called out before she brought the one in her hands to her lips and chugged the rest of it down. She had in fact needed this after that lockdown, but finding all of this out called for it too. Staying quiet as she let Morgan go on, deciding to just hear most of what he had to say since she was still processing it all, she thanked the waiter once a fresh bottle of champagne was being put down on the table, and she passed the now empty bottle off. When Morgan revealed this big harsh comment he'd made, Eva smiled as she made eye contact with him again. "That wasn't harsh at all." She confirmed as she held the new bottle of champagne out to him, mostly offering it up before she started swallowing it back too. "Did he tell you what I told him? About how you two clearly aren't as ready for this as you keep claiming you are? Because if what you said was harsh, then me saying that you both need to tie up your loose ends and prove yourselves to me was harsh, and that was actually me being nice." She shrugged. "And you were right then, and you're right now, but maybe we all need to define misunderstanding? Telling us he wants to be with us but then getting in his head, drinking, and fucking someone else isn't exactly a misunderstanding, not in my book, anyways."

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan watched Eva as she downed the rest of the champagne, calling out for another bottle like they were going to be here for a while. It was classic Eva - taking things head-on, no hesitation, no tiptoeing around the truth. He admired that about her. It made moments like this a little easier, but also, sometimes, a lot harder. Like that day in the classroom when she exposed him in front of her students. When she smiled at him after he finished talking, confirming that he hadn’t been harsh, a small chuckle escaped him. It was a relief, sure, but it also left him feeling even more exposed, knowing they were still picking through the mess of what had happened. And when she offered him the bottle, he took it without hesitation, taking a long swig. If there was ever a day for them to drink their way through a conversation, it was this one. “Nah, he didn’t tell me exactly what you said,” Morgan admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But I got the gist from how he was acting - that it probably hadn't been the easiest conversation.” He glanced down, his fingers tracing the rim of the bottle before he looked back at her, eyes steady. “I think you being whatever kinda harsh is still more honest than most people would be, and we need that." There was something resolute in his voice, a determination not to brush this aside or soften it for anyone’s sake. “Maybe it isn’t a misunderstanding, like you said. Maybe it’s just... fear. Self-doubt,” he admitted, frustration creeping into his tone despite his efforts to keep it even. “But that doesn’t make it okay. Puck getting in his head like that and doing what he did.. it doesn’t excuse it. And I’m not gonna sit here and act like it’s all on him, ‘cause I know I’ve got my own things I need to get resolved.” Morgan sighed, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the table as he looked at her, eyes earnest. “You’re right, Eva. We’ve gotta prove ourselves to you, and to each other. And it starts with not just admitting when we’ve messed up, but doin' something about it.” He took a deep breath, trying to find the words he hadn’t quite figured out until now.

EVA ANDERSON 

Was Eva going overboard with the champagne? Absolutely, but she needed it under these circumstances. She didn't even like the serious talks when she was sober, and while she was trying to put her communications degree to use outside of her classroom, this buzz was helping. It was also helping that Morgan was so open to trying to get them all to be more open, which they needed the push, and at least they were getting further along now than they had been. Replaying her conversation with Puck in her head, she was sure that her words hadn't even come across as hard since she'd been crying and still trying to prevent him from placing all of the blame on his shoulders, but now that she knew the shit Gabe had spewed at him was still in his head, she could see why he kept thinking he was to blame. "Honestly, I was kinda gentle when I said it, but it just felt like it had to be said." She agreed. Even if it hadn't been what Puck wanted to hear, she was glad she'd gotten it out. As Morgan doubled down on Puck being wrong for sleeping around just because of his mindset, Eva still felt relieved that she wasn't alone in that. They'd already dealt with the Kurt thing, and now this too? But when Morgan mentioned his own things that needed to get resolved, she raised a brow. "Oh?" She hummed, grabbing the bottle and taking another long swig of it. As the waiter came back with their food and put it down, she thanked them before she eyed Morgan suspiciously. "I get that, and I don't even know how to help Puck do something about how he feels or how he chooses to handle difficult things, but what about you? What did you mess up that you need to do something about?"

MORGAN WESTON

Morgan watched Eva with a small smile, recognizing her pattern of using humor and champagne to cut through the tension. As she mentioned being gentle with Puck, he believed her. Eva could be a force of nature when she wanted to be, but she also had a way of grounding them both when things got shaky. He glanced at the food the waiter placed in front of them but didn’t make a move to dig in just yet. When she raised an eyebrow and hummed at him, suspicious and curious, he felt a slight pang of nerves. He knew this conversation would turn back on him eventually - it was only fair. “Guess I can’t dodge that one, huh?” Morgan said with a half-hearted chuckle, trying to buy himself a second to find the right words. “Thing is, I wasn’t just talking about Puck, and I think you know that.” Eva wasn't stupid. She was one of the cleverest people he knew. He leaned back in his chair, his fingers running through his beard. “You said it yourself, back at the cafeteria,” he started, eyes meeting hers with that steady gaze she’d come to know well. “I need to talk to Serena about this. About how I'm feelin'. Because I also need to sort out what's going on there.” He breathed in, hesitating before continuing. He knew that, whatever he was about to say, probably wouldn't go down well with Eva, no matter how he said. “I don't know if it's appreciation of her bein' there for me when my shoulder was injured, or if it's the attention she's been givin' me that's leavin' me flattered,” He paused, swallowing hard, trying to make sense of the mess of emotions he hadn’t put words to until now. "But there's something." He looked up at her, before taking in a deep breath. "But I know that what I feel for you and Puck weighs heavier than any of that." Morgan glanced at her, gauging her reaction, the weight of what he’d just admitted hanging between them. He knew she wasn’t asking for perfect, just honesty, and he hoped he’d given her that, even if it took a little too long to get here.

EVA ANDERSON

Neither of them digging into their food was yet another red flag Eva noticed, and now she was even more anxious. Her crying in both of their arms had already stripped her of a layer of her dignity that she'd never get back, and Puck sticking his dick in yet another hole that didn't belong to her or Morgan was tugging on a second, so she didn't know what else she could take at this point. As Morgan started speaking, she brought the bottle back to her lips and just started sipping, swallowing back more as she decided to just let him get whatever he needed to off of his chest. The second he mentioned something she'd said at the cafeteria, she knew where this was going, knew exactly what he was about to say, but it still didn't prepare her for it. At this point, she was truly baffled at the fact that the two men who had somehow gotten her to fall for them had managed to hurt her not just once, but twice. God, how she had never hated having feelings more than she did now. Finishing off the bottle, she put it aside as he finished, barely able to keep eye contact with the man now. "Well, for starters, I would just like to point out that I was right about your post about your shoulder being a thirst trap. You could have just asked me or Puck, or both of us, to come and take care of you, but you got exactly what you wanted instead." Normally she enjoyed being right, but this was one time she wished she hadn't been. "If all it takes is attention for both you and Puck to either fall for someone or fuck them, then I don't know why we keep trying to do this." She admitted before she had to pause, deciding she wasn't about to cry for either of them ever again. "I get asked on one date and you get pissy about it, but you've just been spending quality time with Serena, who you have feelings for? How the fuck—" Pausing again, Eva shook her head as she exhaled a calming breath. "I'm done. I can't do this with you or him anymore."

MORGAN WESTON 

Morgan’s heart dropped when Eva finished speaking. Her words hit like a gut punch, each one leaving a sting that lingered long after. He’d expected her to be upset, but he hadn’t expected the weight of everything she’d been holding back to come crashing down like this. When she mentioned the thirst trap post, he felt the shame creep up, turning his face hot. As she laid it all out - her feelings, her hurt, and the realization that she couldn’t keep doing this - he sat there, stunned, knowing there wasn’t much he could say that would make this right. But he couldn’t just let her leave without trying. "Eva," he started, voice softer than he intended, but he couldn’t steady it. He searched hard for her eyes as he swallowed hard, trying to keep the emotion from breaking through. "That post was still coming from a genuine place, as I've explained it before - it had nothin' to do with not wanting help from y'all or cryin' 'bout it to get Serena's. I promise ya, it was a genuine ask for someone to send a professional my way," He started, stating everything slowly, his voice sincere. He needed to get that stupid post out of the way, so they could move on. He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know what my feelings are for Serena," He sighed deeply. "I don't know if they're friendly, or if there's somethin' more. And I'm telling ya, because I owe it to y'all, to not get into this, and not having figured it out, or at least talked to her or to you about it," Morgan reached out, wanting to grab Eva's hand to hold it, but he stopped himself midway across the table and retracted. Instead he moved a seat over - moving his hat onto the other seat, so he could sit right next to Eva, to properly talk to her. "What I feel for Puck - what I feel for you, Eva - it goes so much deeper than that." He motioned to his heart, keeping eye contact with the girl. "When I'm with him and you, together and separately, my heart ties into knots with pure happiness. When I think about him and you, I can't stop myself from grinnin' - it's a pure physical reaction, to thinking about the two of ya." He breathed, sighing before continuing. "You've got me-... Eva, you have me fucked up." He swallowed hard, not enjoying cursing in front of a woman, but he couldn't explain it any better. "I think about you, I dream about you, I long for you. You're on my goddamn mind, every single second of every single day, because for me, you're the one." Not once had he looked away from her eyes. He shook his head, frustration clear in the lines of his face. "Maybe I don’t deserve a chance. Maybe you’re better off walking away. But I’m still standin' here, asking for it, because losing you would be the biggest mistake of my life." Morgan’s chest felt tight, and his hands were trembling slightly, but he stayed there, waiting, holding on to whatever shred of hope he had left, even if it was slipping through his fingers.

EVA ANDERSON 

Rolling her eyes as Morgan feigned innocent again, Eva wasn't even sure why she was still sitting here entertaining this. After the showdown in her classroom she had genuinely tried to believe that he was just dumb and hadn't meant it, but now she knew her instincts had been right. As soon as he started trying to explain his feelings or whatever for Serena, her own emotions were starting to go from hurt to anger, and while she appreciated his honesty, she didn't need to know this shit. Watching his hand, she was grateful when he paused and thought better of it, but that was short lived as she watched him get up and move next to her. "Morgan—" She didn't even know what she was about to say, but it didn't matter anyways. She hadn't wanted to maintain any ounce of eye contact with his ass but as he started speaking, every ounce of her body just...froze. Her expectations for anything he had to say post his confession about Serena were low, incredibly low, but now he was basically rambling off a declaration of some sort, and Eva was fucking confused. Where was it coming from? Why was he suddenly confessing to it now, after admitting that he felt something for Serena? How was she even supposed to believe this shit now? As Morgan kept speaking, kept rambling off his feelings or whatever, all she had to do was look into his eyes and read into the tone of his voice and she knew he wasn't lying at least — which just fucking made matters worse. Biting back her own emotions, Eva shook her head again. "Right, so you think about me, and about Puck, every single second of every single day, except for when you're with Serena?" She countered, though she didn't even know if she wanted an answer, or if she could even take whatever the answer would be. "Clearly neither one of you was ever worried about losing me." Eva pointed out, and that was clearly true considering that neither Puck or Morgan acted as though they were afraid to lose her until now. Grabbing her purse and standing up, she shrugged. "You and Serena deserve each other, but since you're so concerned with being honest now, make sure you tell her how you allegedly feel about me and Puck. I'm sure she'll love to know she's some second, or I guess third, choice. And if that doesn't work out for you, don't call me." And with that, she stormed right out of the bistro.

[johnnyyumaisarebel]

this ain't no high art baby

but it's free to all who read it

maybe i should write in tie dye

and a pair of leather sandals

a little sugar magnolia in the air

channeling my robert hunter

who must have met you on a train

maybe saw you in his dreaming

you are everything delightful

you are everything i need

sung sweetly by bobby weir

you in my sunshine daydream

sure i'm a little sentimental

world being too harsh these days

then you step into the sunlight

beautiful and anything but harsh

i do not see me apologizing

anyone to kiss you would swoon

whether in tie dye or three piece

or looking like an havana gunrunner

that might be a lot like me i confess

in my aloha shirts and cowboy boots

my aviators admittedly stunning

but you knew and saw me through

some k-mart sneakers sans socks

fruit of the loom plain white tees

straight on in to a monkey suit

finding in me what you like and love

dead not alone in being grateful

or seeing blossoms blooming

skimming through rays of violets

skipping through waves of plagiarism

just to say i feel that when i see you

in daydreams as what they smoked

you being to me the ultimate smoke

show i am deeply moved to attend

could have been john mayer maybe

or someone's taylor swift and all

but i've always been more of a joker

even somewhat of a space cowboy

not that i need any hallucinogenics

other than your narcotic smile

to bounce around a cloud ecstatic

knowing how deep true love is

no it ain't high art ironic or sly

because i can't justify any of that

not for you my sweetest angel

just a big ol' slice of sincerity

[kazanskyed]

heaven in your eyes

pairing: pete "maverick" mitchell x tom "iceman" kazansky

wordcount: 1.1k

summary: a look into mav and ice's first night together in their new apartment. (title taken from heaven in your eyes by loverboy)

notes: fluff <3 this is my first time writing for topgun but it was so fun writing these two idiots. this was inspired by @k9effect's beautiful art and the topgunners discord server. hope you enjoy!! --> p.s. also mav is trans because. i said so.

read on ao3

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

When Ice hauls the last duct-taped cardboard box through the front door of the—their, he corrects himself, it’s theirs now—new apartment, the sun has long since dipped silently below the horizon, yielding for the waxing gibbous that hangs delicately from the star-studded expanse of night sky. 

The watch on his left wrist tells him it’s just past midnight. They’ve been lugging boxes to and fro all day today: first from their old place to the car, then from the car to the new apartment. The drive hadn’t been long, not by any stretch of the imagination, just a little over twenty minutes all the way from the academy, but they’d had to make two round trips so that they could transport all the furniture and miscellaneous items that had been previously strewn across various surfaces of the old place. That added up to eighty minutes of Maverick sticking his head out of the window like a golden retriever to “take in the sun”, changing the radio station after every other song, and doing his best to get them both into a car wreck by distracting Ice in the driver’s seat in more ways than he’d known was possible (at one point, Ice had had to pull over on the side of the road so he could kiss Mav’s stupid face properly without causing a major collision).

This building isn’t fancy by any means. The place they’ve decided on is twenty or so miles away from Top Gun, far enough away so that it feels like a fresh start, but close enough so Mav can commute to his new job as instructor without much issue. They’re on the fifth floor, a quaint, charming two-bedroom thing that he and Mav had looked at together three weeks ago. It’s dark in the living room now, but as Ice stands in the doorway, he can see light streaming out from across the hallway, where the kitchen is. 

“Mav?” he calls quietly, kicking off his shoes. The California summer nights are muggy and warm enough that he’d discarded his shirt at one point while trekking up and down the creaky apartment stairs. Mav had wolf-whistled like the little shit he was when he got an eyeful of Ice’s bare chest, prompting a fond glare from his boyfriend.

There’s no response from the kitchen, and Ice starts forward, the wooden floorboards creaking under his feet. When he peers around the corner into the small galley kitchen, the first thing he notices is Maverick, leaning against the counter, eyebrows furrowed as he fusses with the CD player he’d gotten from Carole as a “house-warming gift”. The next thing he notices is that Mav is shirtless. His white tee has been thrown carelessly over one of the cardboard boxes labeled KITCHEN in Ice’s jagged scrawl, leaving him in just jeans, socks, and a cowboy hat that’s seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Ice’s heart warms at the sight of him so relaxed. It’s been years since Mav’s surgery, but the other man is still getting comfortable with his own body, so seeing him so at home already, in his and Ice’s shared space, has a smile creeping across Ice’s face (“You’re going soft, Iceman. You’re melting.” “Shut up, Sli.”). He watches silently a little longer as Mav fiddles with the controls on the player, tongue sticking out in concentration, before the first tinny synth chords begin issuing from the speaker. Mav steps back in satisfaction, turning around and starting a little at the sight of Ice leaned against the doorway. In seconds, though, the surprise on his face morphs into a cheeky grin. “Well, hello there, stranger.”

Ice rolls his eyes as Mike Reno starts to croon softly, music filling the small space, but the smile stretching across his face is a dead giveaway of his fondness. “You have the worst music taste.”

Mav gasps, putting a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Take that back.”

“Never,” Ice says, and then he’s striding over to Maverick, pulling the shorter man into his arms as the music swells. 

Mav huffs a soft laugh, letting himself be taken into Ice’s arms. He’s like a space heater, has run warm for as long as Ice has known him, and even though it makes sleeping in the same bed during the California summers absolute hell, it’s comforting, especially during times like this. It’s grounding. Mav’s here. Ice is here. They’re both here, in an apartment that they can call their own, together in the sky and on the ground. Ice hadn’t known it was possible to feel this way, so much joy and love and contentment that it aches. 

“What are you thinking about, Kazansky?” murmurs Mav, cheek pressed against Ice’s chest as they sway gently to the music.

It might be the fatigue, or maybe the beers he’d had with the rest of the squadron before they’d set out this morning are still running through his blood, but his mouth is moving before he can think too hard about it. “You. Us.” 

Any other time, he’d be gagging at his own sappiness, but he tilts his head down and meets Mav’s eyes, sees the all adoration he feels reflected right back at him, and in that moment, he swears that he’d shout love confessions from the rooftops if Mav just asked.

Instead of replying, Mav reaches up, plucks the hat from his own head, and deposits it carefully onto Ice’s. The gesture is strangely intimate—he can feel Mav’s breath as the shorter man shifts his weight onto his toes and leans in so he can reach Ice’s head. 

Then he drops back down flat onto his feet and grins wolfishly at Ice, all teeth and sparkling eyes (Ice thinks he’s falling in love for the second time tonight). “There,” says Mav, giving Ice a self-satisfied once-over. “Now you’re a cowboy.”

Ice raises an eyebrow. “My cowboy,” Mav clarifies, and this time, Ice can’t help but pull that face into a kiss. The slow drumbeat of the music seems to strike straight into his heart, shaking the emotion loose. As Mav leans into him, he takes the opportunity to drag his hands up along the other man’s sides until he reaches the scars that span across his boyfriend’s chest. He traces them with two fingers, painfully gentle. 

“I love you,” he whispers against Mav’s lips.

Mav throws his arms around Ice’s neck, dragging him down and in closer. “You know I love you more, Tom Kazansky.”

In your eyes

I want to see your love again

In your eyes

I never want this feeling to end

It took some time to find the light

But now I realize

I can see the heaven in your eyes.

[new-poets-society]

The Lion is a Doctor

I’m up way past my bedtime

pacing the halls, 

rushing like good blood pressure. 

The house is empty, yet the sound of me echoes in the ears of loved ones

no matter where they lay their heads. 

I understand. It’s hard to tell if blood is spilling or boiling, or pumping, 

But not to worry--

I can trust myself tonight.

Therefore, I have the authority to flamboyantly waltz around my home, 

A place so alive it feels like a friend,

And spend an evening living without wondering who or what I’m killing. 

  I’m headed to the heart of the Lion 

Specifically, his wardrobe. 

The lion is a doctor, 

and the doctor is not in. 

I rummage with delicacy and delight,

Admiring every textile.

I shall wear whichever torn up tee-shirt I desire,

 It is an honor to don the fluffy robes of a king. 

cloaked in soft armor, 

I dance flamboyantly 

in well-worn slippers

I will never fit. 

I feel small in the best way, 

Like a child 

excited to see how much they’ll grow in one year. 

  My mother let me wear her clogs back when I had the smallest of feet. 

They, too, did not fit. 

The space between my toes and the wood only stood to remind me that at any moment those shoes could come off, 

if they didn’t, they’d threaten to for the duration. 

Every step required grip,

 I kept those clogs on my feet with all the bones and toes I had.

It felt free and wicked 

to kick off that hollowness. 

Let the clogs fall where they may.

  Heavy is the head who wears the crown of Tie inspector,

and I take my job seriously.

 I meticulously examine each one,

naturally fragrant with childhood, 

Memories of young, chaotic mornings woven into silk. 

Silky threads made of a fond routine I always found beautiful and complicated. 

The Lion looped the silk swiftly and seamlessly and frequently

he didn't have time to notice the miracle in the minutia.

30 years on I count their silky crests like a four star General.

I need to make sure everyone is still here,

still intact.

  I spend the remainder of the ritual picking through the Lion’s wardrobe, 

mining for colorful cashmere sweaters.

I tried them on in a cautious frenzy,

with zero intent to return them. 

The layer cake of trial and error reminded me of rainy middle school days. 

When it rained the Lion roared and ordered his cubs to put on a sweater, 

a jacket, boots, gloves, and a cowboy hat.

But what about our hair, Dad?

He braided our manes flawlessly under those cowboy hats 

with tact and finesse we could’ve sworn we were Cleopatra, or Joan of Arc.

We were too small for our armor, sure,

But we knew we’d grow into it. 

In those moments, I didn’t drown in the emptiness of the clogs,

(Not unless I put them on).

The Doctor’s armor is heavy,

The heaviness inspired me 

to grow strong enough 

to carry the weight of battle 

with poise

To wield weapons to protect,

to never forget 

all swords are double edged,

and enemy fire and friendly fire are distinguished

only by which side of the frontline you’re on,

and what you’re fighting for.

  The heart of the Lion was big enough for 10 men..

How did he become so vast? 

The lion’s daughter was almost too busy growing herself

to contemplate the Lion as a man. 

What did the Lion have to do in order to become? 

Who did he have to fight to evolve? 

Which kingdom did he defeat 

to claim such vast internal territory? 

What did he have to survive to keep it? 

Vastness of the soul comes at a cost.

 Is he aware? 

Does he feel that way, too? 

Heavy is the head that wears the scrub cap, 

The cowboy hat, 

The tuxedo,

The tie, 

The torn-up tee-shirt, 

The big slippers, 

The robe. 

 Powerful are the hands

that slice and sew strangers just as beautifully as they braid their baby girls’ hair,

that tie ties,

and bows,

and pack lunchboxes, 

and lay out multivitamins like loose diamonds.

Whatever it took to get here was worth it. 

  The unwitnessed waltz of the wild child is sacred when performed correctly. 

It must poignantly convey the whimsy of childhood 

and punctuate one’s distance from it.

 It should be so comforting that you make room to be confounded---

 this is a delicacy in my culture. 

The discomfort is just as delicious as its saccharine counterpart. 

Tonight, I revisit the inkling I intuited while wrapped in rain gear— 

There is so much more to the Lion than I will ever know. 

The slippers are still too big! 

Will I ever know what it feels like to fit?

 Let alone, fit into these slippers? 

To know exactly how they feel? 

  The answer is of course not, And the Lion wouldn’t have it any other way.

 If I am to become a Lion, I have to survive like one. 

I have to fight for my life especially when I don’t want to.

I have to make room for blissful moments only found in the minutia 

or else, let my soul starve.

 If I don’t learn to hunt and gather my dreams

I won’t know what it takes to keep them,

I won’t know how to make the room necessary

to become, 

to begin,

to be a person I’m proud of,

to remain a person I can trust with my life.

  Tonight, I do not have the answers.  

Wouldn’t I like to know, Dad! 

It would be ungodly of me to ask you.

But I will anyways, 

Just so we can talk a little longer. 

God Bless the Lion man and the parts of his journey I will never know. 

Author: Alexandra Wolf

March 2023

www.alliewolf.com 

[choccos-aaart]

Astra vs the Polymorph #1 - A glimpse into the lives of class B-5!

DESCRIPTION: The crew's just chilling.

CHARACTERS: All of class B-5, polymorph

KEY WORDS: Comedy, survival "horror"

EXT. OUTER SPACE

A pod appears floating around in space. As it rotates, the pod reveals a hole on its surface, torn open by force.

SFX: Beep, beep…

NARRATOR: Danger. Do not attempt to open this pod. The creature inside is extremely hostile. It feeds off the human psyche, seeks out the deranged, the unbalanced and the emotionally crippled.

SFX:  Beep, beep…

INT. DINING ROOM.

Aries, Quitterie, and Yun-Hua play a game of cards. They are playing Lucky 9, gambling with a collection of shiny pebbles and rocks they found on a previous planet. Aries, with the most pebbles, is the banker. Funicia spectates.

ARIES: Who wants another card?

QUITTERIE: No thanks. My cards are too good for this dang game. I'm gonna beat all of you.

YUN-HUA: Hey-! Isn't it us against Aries...?

QUITTERIE: Oh right, yeah. Whoops.

ARIES: Hm. Quitterie, if you wanna be the banker next round, I'll let you.

QUITTERIE: That's what I've been saying this whole time! 

ARIES: Really?

QUITTERIE: OMG, yeah duh! How'd you not hear me?

ARIES: I mean, all your yapping sounds the same to me, tee-hee!

QUITTERIE: (Gasp!) O-M-G! You're so gonna pay for that!

ARIES: Alright! How about a deal? If the two of you beat me this round, you get to be banker.

YUN-HUA: 'Kay

QUITTERIE: What! That is so unfair!

ARIES: Ok! How about you Funi? Join us!

FUNICIA: Ok!

QUITTERIE: Um, let's not teach gambling to a fourth-grader.

ARIES: Aww, it's not like we're playing with real money so it's totally fine!

QUITTERIE: Alright, fine! But I'll add to the deal. (Smirks) If Funi beats all of us, I get to be the banker!

ARIES: (With mild sarcasm, except with her usual enthusiasm) Oh, you're not just getting Funi involved for your own gain, are you?

QUITTERIE: Alright, then Funi and I get to be bankers. How's that?!

ARIES: (Cheerfully) It's a deal! But we have to restart the round because Funi's with us now.

QUITTERIE: NOOO! 

INT. KITCHEN

Luca sits on a kitchen counter while Ulgar, gun in hand, stands in front of him. Luca seems enthusiastic. In the background, Kanata does his cleaning duties.

ULGAR: Lesson one.

LUCA: Man, oh man, this is so exciting! 

ULGAR: Shut up.

Ulgar holds out his hands as if he's about to clap.

ULGAR: Now hold your hands like that.

Luca holds up his hands.

ULGAR: Now clap.

Luca smiles doubtingly. He claps.

ULGAR: Faster.

Luca claps again, faster.

ULGAR: Now as fast as you can.

Luca hesitates then claps again with extra strength. But, before his hands could meet, Ulgar pulls his gun between them. Luca exclaims with astonishment.

ULGAR: Now you try.

Ulgar puts out his hands and starts clapping at random intervals. Luca stares confusedly.

LUCA: Hey what the hell! I don't know when you go!

Ulgar smirks.

ULGAR: That's just real life.

LUCA: C'mon man, I thought I asked you to teach me to shoot, not play red hands or something.

ULGAR: This is... serious. It's reflexes.

LUCA: Damn, you didn't even have this whole thing planned. Boo!

ULGAR: Reflexes are important!

LUCA: Yeah, whatever! ...Unless, this is just some excuse to spend some nice recreational time with your best friend. That's oddly sweet of you, Ulgar!

Ulgar's face turns slightly red.

ULGAR: Shut up! I'm teaching you to shoot.

LUCA: Then teach me to shoot, man! Where d'you get these lesson ideas from?

Ulgar doesn't say anything.

LUCA: ... So? 

ULGAR: ...Ugh. Forget it.

Kanata looks back from wiping the stovetop.

KANATA: No way! Ulgar, you're referencing a cowboy movie!

ULGAR: Shut up.

KANATA: Oh dude! I got some cool old westerns stored in a drive somewhere. We totally gotta watch them sometime!

ULGAR: Shut up!

LUCA: (To Kanata) Yeah, get back to cleaning!

KANATA: BRO! You guys are supposed to be helping us, too! You got time to lean, you got time to clean - now let's go boys!

He continues wiping the counter.

ULGAR: Hmph.

LUCA: "Us"? I thought you were doing everything yourself.

KANATA: Damn it, where's Charce?! Mr Perfect pretty-boy better not be checking out his reflection or somethin'

Charce carries a pile of dishes over to the sink.

CHARCE: What?

KANATA: Oh good! Thanks so much for the help!

INT. DINING ROOM

Aries, Qitterie, Yun-hua and Funicia continue playing Lucky 9.

ARIES: Uh-oh you guys~ My cards are looking kinda good!

QUITTERIE: I got crap cards... Gimme another card please!

YUN-HUA: Ohh... I would like another card too, please.

Aries tosses Yun-Hua and Quitterie a card each. Quitterie squints in disappointment. So does Yun-Hua.

FUNICIA: I'm happy with mine!

QUITTERIE: Are you sure you know what you're doing?

FUNICIA: Yup! I've seen you guys play so I'm sure I know enough

ARIES: Ok! Three, two, one, REVEAL!

Everyone tosses her cards on the table. Quitterie and Yun-Hua more shamefully than the rest.

QUITTERIE: Seven.

YUN-HUA: Ten...

ARIES: Six!

QUITTERIE: Hold on, did you say six? WHAAAAT!!!

ARIES: HA-AH-AH-Ah-AH-AH-AH-AH!!!

Quitterie shakes Yun-hua's shoulder with defeat and desparation.

QUITTERIE: GIIIRRRLLL! We cou'dve beaten Aries if you didn't ask for that other card!

YUN-HUA: Oh, I'm sorry! She just looked so confident, I wasn't so sure if I should've gambled or not...

ARIES: This is a bluffing game, silly! 

YUN-HUA: Aw...

QUITTERIE: Funi! How about you?

FUNICIA: Mine add up to twelve.

We see Quitterie on the floor, defeated. She sighs massively.

QUITTERIE: ...Yun-Hua, this is all your fault, so as a consequense, you gotta tell us a secret!

YUN-HUA: U-uh...

Quitterie sits up.

QUITTERIE: I'll make it easier for you! How about... Tell us something totally embarrassing you did when you were 13.

YUN-HUA: Oh gosh...

Aries, Quitterie, and even Funicia smile at Yun-Hua eagerly.

YUN-HUA: Oh… Ok…! Um…

She pauses for a moment. Suddenly…

YUN-HUA: Oh, I need to go to the bathroom…!

ARIES: Aww, what?

QUITTERIE: Nice excuse, girl! C’mon, let us hear it!

YUN-HUA: No, I’m serious! 

QUITTERIE: You’re trying to avoid answering, aren’t you?

YUN-HUA: I promise, I’m not trying to avoid anything! I’ll be right back.

ARIES: Really?

YUN-HIA: No, really!

QUITTERIE: Okay~

YUN-HUA: Besides…! I can’t think of anything right now, but maybe when I come back I’ll give you something good. Really! Okay?

QUITTERIE: Hah… Whatever you say. We’ll be waiting!

INT. CORIDOOR.

Zack, walks down the hallway. He notices Kanata. Over to Kanata, we see him dust off his pants.

KANATA: Whew! That was fun! (pause) Huh? Hey Zack!

ZACK: Kanata, I need to talk to you in private.

KANATA: ‘K!

INT. ZACK'S ROOM

Zack leads Kanata inside.

KANATA: So! Wussup?

ZACK: There appears to be a non-human life form aboard this ship.

KANATA: What?

ZACK: Our ship has been invaded by an alien.

KANATA: I know that but… What does it mean?

ZACK: I don’t know. However, it could be hostile so we must be alert.

KANATA: Alright! I’ll keep my eyes peeled from now on!

ZACK: Good. And so will I!

KANATA: We gotta let the others know. At a good time. When d’you think?

ZACK: Hm… Let’s see… In ten minutes from now, it should be-

A quiet, tense conversation can be heard from another room alerts Kanata and Zack.

??? (from another room): So you didn’t know I even came on this trip?

YUN-HUA (from another room): I’m s-sorry! I didn’t mean–

??? : Enough. I don’t want to hear another measly excuse from you.

KANATA: What n’ the… Someone’s talking down Yun-Hua…!

ZACK: But who?

YUN-HUA: (To ???) Oh… I’m really sorry!

KANATA: He doesn’t sound like anyone here. How…?

ZACK: I don’t know… Unless…

???: (to Yun-Hua) Stop apologising. Is this really how guilty you feel?

YUN-HUA: Y-yes…

ZACK: That is the alien…!

???: (To Yun-Hua) Just how guilty do you feel?

KANATA: Then we have to hurry! Let’s go!

YUN-HUA: (To ???) Awfully, awfully guilty…!

Kanata and Zack run in the direction of Yun-Hua’s voice.

???: (To Yun-Hua) INDEED, YOU DO!

Cut to: Kanata and Zack arrive at the scene. Yun Hua lies unconscious on the floor. 

TO BE CONTINUED...