#THE BEST MANDY MONDAY!!

[fishnetinsides]

WE’RE GETTING AMANDA YOUNG BACK 9.27.24 OH MY GOD!!!!!!

[spiralstain]

Happy Mandy Monday to those who celebrate!

[freshbaked-bread]

MANDY MONDAY FOR REAL THIS TIME

(edit: this is now available as a print :3)

[consciouschunkofmoss]

my bday falls on a monday im crying

[storm-angel989]

Dad val and the other vees with a chubby reader who's insecure about it? I absolutely adore your writing sm and the way you write Vox makes me soso happy <33 !!

Hi Friend,

So sorry for the delay! I am so so glad you like my writing and I hope you enjoy the story! Remember to love yourself and your body as much as the Vee's love Reader and hers!

<3 Mandy

I can tell you exactly when I started to try to take up less space. 

Being the daughter of Valentino, it was expected that I behaved a certain way. Look a certain way. After all, my Uncle Vox made sure that I knew from a young age that I represented the Vee brand- and their brand was perfection. 

So I obeyed. I did everything that I was supposed to do. I did yoga with Aunt Velvette. Went to the gym with Uncle Vox. Joined a sports team like my father expected me to. Was an active human being, even when I didn’t want to be. Even when I just wanted to lay on the couch and do nothing. 

“It’s good for you to move your body,” my Aunt Velvette told me when I protested. “It’s stress relief. It’s flexible. It’s healthy. We take care of ourselves, even when we don’t feel like it. Now come on, let's get to it.” 

On that same note, Aunt Velvette controlled what I looked like in public, or in school for that matter. I wore exactly what she dressed me in. My hair was always done, my makeup on point, and my nails perfectly polished. In my mind, I was to be their little darling, an icon of perfection, the true representation of their brand. I had all the activities, all the possessions, all the confidence of what it meant to be one of the Vees. 

With the start of middle school came the mandate of uniforms. Pleated skirts, tucked in polo shirts. Knee high socks and brown loafers. Suddenly, I couldn’t hide behind the outfits my Aunt Velvet tailored to my shape. Sure, she tried, but with everyone dressed the same, body issues began to stand out. 

“You look fine darling,” my Aunt Velvette told me as I stood in front of the mirror before the start of the year.

I watched as she pinned my uniform to be tailored, an ugly blue and gray plaid. 

“I hate it,” I said out loud. 

“I know. I’m not a fan either. But you look fine,” she repeated as she stuck the final pins in. 

The first day of school brought whispers. Overnight, girls who had been best friends became worst enemies. Wars fought with cruel words whispered and notes passed between classes. 

Shorter. Skinnier. Too tall. Too wide. Chubby. I tried my best to ignore it- Aunt Velvette taught me that there was no victory in making others feel bad about themselves. 

 If you lost a few pounds, you’d be so pretty, the note appeared in my locker mid-october. My throat tightened, and I felt as if I had swallowed an ice cube whole. Unsure of what to do, I stuffed the note in my backpack until I could get home. 

Standing in front of the mirror, for the first time in my life, I studied my body. Sure, I was a little bigger in my tummy, but I wasn’t the biggest girl in the school.

But you’re not the smallest, either, a little voice inside my head whispered. 

It was then and there I made a decision. I would eat a little less, work out a little harder at the gym. And that would fix this whole problem, right? I stepped on the scale and took note of the number as I promised myself the next time I got on, it would be smaller. 

“Bebita, are you feeling alright?” my dad asked over dinner two weeks later. “You haven’t eaten much.”

“I’m not hungry,” I muttered in response. 

That was a lie. Every inch of me wanted to consume every bite on my plate. My tummy ached with hunger that stemmed from skipping breakfast and lunch earlier in the day. But while the number on the scale had gone down on friday, a weekend of inescapable meals with my family brought it right back up- and some, by Monday morning. Not even my extra workouts alone in my room had made a difference. 

I felt my Uncle Vox press his hand to my forehead. 

“You’re not running a fever,” he declared. “Does your stomach hurt?”

I nodded and my father gave me a concerned look. 

“You can be excused if you’d like to go lay down. If you don’t feel well tomorrow morning, you can stay home and rest. Did you do your homework? Do I need to check it over and sign your agenda book?” 

“I don’t want to miss school,” I said quickly. “I’ll fall behind.” I pushed back my chair. “But, yeah. To the rest. It’s all in my backpack by the door if you can check it over and sign it.” 

“Will do,” he replied evenly. 

I felt his eyes on me as I made my way back to my bedroom. Every part of me felt achy, sick and weak. I gathered my pajamas and stepped into the bathroom, hoping that a hot shower would help. As soon as I was done, I crawled under the covers and closed my eyes. Exhaustion floated through me, but to my frustration, sleep wouldn’t come.

“Baby? Are you awake?” I heard my Aunt Velvette’s voice, followed by a knock.

“Yeah,” I called back. “Come in.” 

I heard the doorknob turn and close behind her. I pushed myself upright as she walked over and sat on the bed next to me. 

“Look, sweetheart. Your Dad was going to come talk to you, but I convinced him to let me handle it. He went to sign your agenda and found this stuck to the bottom of it.” She said as she handed me the crumbled up note. “Care to explain?”

I felt the heat rush to my cheeks. “I found it in my locker like two weeks ago.” 

“Mhm, right. So does that explain the tummy aches at dinner? Or the fact that you haven’t touched your breakfast stash?” She asked. 

I hung my head. She sighed and pulled me to her. “Sweetheart, kids are cruel. Your body is just fine the way it is.”

I felt the frustration rise. “Aunt Vel, that isn’t good enough. I’m a Vee, am I not? I mean, Uncle Vox says it all the time, the Vee brand is perfection. If I’m not perfect, what does that say about the brand?”

“That isn’t…ugh, no. Honey. He means more…your father…” she sighed. “Don’t pay that any mind. It has nothing to do with you. You’re perfect just the way you are.” 

“Apparently, I’m not to some people,” I grumbled. 

She rolled her eyes. “And those people are wrong. Look. You move your body. You eat healthy. Your body is perfect, just the way it is, I promise.” She leaned over and kissed my forehead as she wrapped her arm around me. “Don’t you ever think otherwise.” 

“Thanks, Aunt Vel,” I muttered as I leaned into her. 

The door knob turned and we both looked up. My father and my Uncle Vox walked in and joined us on the bed. 

“Hey baby girl, feeling better?” my Uncle Vox asked.

I opened my mouth to tell him yes, but Velvette turned around to face him.

“Now you both listen to me. You tell this sweet child she doesn’t need to be perfect and her body is fine the way it is. And you, Vox!” She leaned over and grabbed the corner of his screen. “If you ever insinuate otherwise, there will be a lot more than a hairline fracture shattering that face of yours.” She stood up and began to drag him across the room. “Excuse us while your Uncle and I have a little chat.” 

“Ow! What did I do? I didn’t write the fucking note, ow!” Vox yelled. 

I watched as Aunt Velvette pulled him out of the room. My father sat down on the bed next to me and pulled me to him.

“You don’t need to be perfect and your body is just fine the way it is,” he said as he kissed my forehead. “I know school is tough, but we love you more than you will ever know. We want you healthy, mi amore.”

“I don’t like that I’m bigger than the other girls,” I muttered as I laid my head on his shoulder. “Daddy, if I’m as healthy as you guys keep telling me, why aren't I smaller?”

“Bebita, bodies come in different shapes and sizes. Some are bigger, some are smaller. All are beautiful,” he said softly. “Your body is perfect the way it is, sweetheart. All you need to do is treat it well, because it’s the only one you’ll ever have.”

I felt my stomach growl in agreement and he leaned over and kissed the top of my head. 

“How about we start by getting some food in your tummy? Come on out to the kitchen with me, I’ll make you whatever you’d like.” 

I jumped off the bed and followed him out to the kitchen. Several blueberry pancakes and listening to my Uncle Vox talk about how he was calling the school the next morning, my father tucked me back into bed with another kiss on the forehead. 

“I love you, princessa. And remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent. There isn’t a single entity in this universe who has the privilege of making you feel bad about yourself. Do you understand, mi amore?”

I nodded and he leaned over and shut the light off. 

“Good. Now sleep tight, bebita princessa.” 

[lemoncrushh]

Fratboy Harry - Part 3

Summary: Harry Styles was a boy with a reputation, one that you couldn’t care less about. Yet one night at a frat party changed everything.

Warnings: Smut, drinking, angst, a very cocky Harry. 18+ ONLY!!

Part 3 Word Count: 2319

STORY PAGE

Five days. Five fucking days since the party.

When you and Harry had walked out of the bedroom together, nobody had seemed to notice, though you could feel the heat rising to your face. You'd exchanged numbers and Harry'd promised to call. Even then you'd taken his words with a grain of salt, acting nonchalant when you'd caught up with your friends and waved goodbye.

Then he'd texted you. That night. He'd claimed he was just making sure you'd gotten home alright, but you couldn't help but feel elated. You'd texted back and forth until you could barely keep your eyes open. He was really funny and made you laugh and feel at ease. You didn't want to get your hopes up, but you thought you could really like him.

Then nothing.

There was no phone call or text the next day. Okay, one day, no big deal. He might have been busy, you told yourself. The next day, Monday, still nothing. Same for the day after that, and the day after that. By Thursday you decided to just text him yourself.

Hi

One little word but waiting for a response was agony. After starring at your phone for thirty minutes, you laid it face down on the bed and returned to your homework. Halfway through a History chapter, you heard your phone buzz. You sat up straight and reached for it, turning it over to see Harry's name displayed.

Hey

You narrowed your eyes. Just hey? No how are you, how've you been? No explanation as to why he hasn't called? Had he deleted your number and now couldn't even remember your name? You wanted to punch him through the phone, but you kept your calm.

How are you?

Ok. Been busy.

Oh. With school?

Yeah. Lots of homework and studying.

Okay, fine, you could relate to that. You'd been doing your share of studying too. But how hard is it to pick up the phone? Especially after the night you'd shared. You felt a sick feeling in your stomach as you texted back.

Yeah me too.

You watched the three dots come up indicating Harry was typing. You half expected him to brush you off, but you were surprised when you read what came up.

There's supposed to be another party this weekend. Are you going?

What? How were you going to respond to that? Was he asking you to go? Was he implying he'd like for you to? You decided to play it cool.

I'm not sure. Are you?

I don't know yet. I might.

Oh.

You had no clue what else to say. But Harry's next text felt like a kick in the gut.

Maybe I'll see you there?

Your chest shook as you let out a breath. You stared at your phone. You thought you might throw up.

Ok

You didn't bother to wait for a response. You threw your phone back on the bed and finished your homework, though you could barely concentrate.

It was definitely a brush off.

"I don't know," said your best friend Mandy as she scrolled through your phone. "I don't think it's necessarily a brush off."

You and Mandy sat on a bench as she read over your text conversation with Harry. She was the only other person who knew what happened, but only because she was your best friend and because she'd practically begged you to give her the juicy details. Now you were regretting that decision.

"Of course it is," you rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone from her hands.

"I mean, he asked if you were going to the party. That has to count for something."

"It counts for shit," you scoffed. "He's probably just asking if I'm going so he can avoid me and hook up with some other girl."

Mandy shook her head leaning toward your phone. "Where the hell did you get that from? I don't see that."

"It's called reading between the lines, Mandy."

She glared at you for a second. "You're such a skeptic. Maybe he's just been busy, like he said. Look, he even added a thumbs up at the end."

You narrowed my eyes at her. The thumbs up emoji had been Harry's final text after you'd thrown your phone down. It was ridiculous and didn't mean a damn thing to you. You sighed, tossing your phone in your bag.

"It's my own fault. I knew what kind of guy he was. I shouldn't have expected anything more."

"So..." Mandy hesitated. "Are you going to the party?"

You shook your head. "I doubt it."

"Pleeeeease! For me?"

Mandy was a party girl. If there was a party going on, she knew about it, and usually dragged you with her. But you just weren't feeling it this time.

"I don't think so, Mandy. Sorry."

"Fine," Mandy threw her hands up. "Do what you want." She stood up, pulling her backpack over her shoulder. "Let me know when you hear from him so I can say I told you so."

You sat at the end of the sofa, a beer in your hand as the bass from the stereo pounded in your ears. You couldn't believe Mandy had talked you into going to the party. She had run into some guy she knew from one of her classes within the first ten minutes and you hadn't seen her since. Your other friends that had joined you the weekend before had opted out of this shindig, and you'd wished you'd done the same. You didn't know anyone else here. You hadn't run into Jimmy, so you weren't sure if he'd made it. But more importantly, there was no sign of Harry.

You'd kind of planted yourself on the couch as a way to avoid walking around and mingling, but the truth was, you were afraid to run into him if he was there. As you sipped the last of your beer however, you knew you could no longer stay seated. You had to pee.

While you were washing your hands, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You figured it was Mandy either asking where you were, or telling you she was getting a ride home. You grabbed it, swiping the screen without checking the name. You were surprised when a text from Harry popped up.

Are you at the party?

You resisted texting back, what's it to ya? Instead you just said yes.

Where are you?

Huh? At the party.

I mean where in the house? I can't find you.

You felt a little flutter in your belly. He was looking for you?

Bathroom

Oh ok.

You quickly finished up before opening the door. On the other side of the narrow hallway, Harry stood with his arms crossed, leaning back against the wall, his signature smirk on his face. You shook your head, unable to stop your mouth from grinning.

"Reckoned you might have gone outside," he commented.

"I don't pee outside," you shot back.

Harry threw his head back laughing. "That's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" you asked, stepping back to let a couple people walk through. Harry walked around to stand next to you.

"I meant outside on the deck. Like last time."

"Oh." You were glad it was semi-dark in the hallway so he couldn't see you blushing.

"How long have you been here?" Harry inquired.

"About an hour or so," you replied. "What about you?"

You braced yourself, prepared to hear him say he'd been there a while. He didn't look drunk yet, but that didn't mean anything. He could have just come from the bedroom. You swallowed back the bile in your throat that rose up when you imagined it.

"Just got here," said Harry, immediately reaching for your hand. "C'mon let's get a drink."

"Wait, what?" you pulled on his arm, causing him to stop and look and you.

"A drink," he gestured toward the kitchen. "Don't you want one?"

"No," you shook your head. "I mean...you just got here?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Well, a few minutes ago."

"And you texted me?"

Harry smirked again. "After I wandered around a bit looking for you."

Your face lit up. "You did?"

"Then I remembered I had your number. C'mon."

You allowed Harry to pull you through the crowd to the kitchen. A smaller crowd had settled there and a few people gave Harry high-fives or fist bumps when he entered. You recognized them from the last party, but you still didn't know their names.

You watched Harry grab the bottle of tequila and your stomach churned.

"No shots for me tonight," you held up your hand. "I'm not really feeling it."

"No?" Harry raised a brow. "Alright then. What would you like?"

"Anything else is fine."

Harry nodded, filling two cups with ice. You weren't a hundred percent sure why you didn't want a shot. The knowledge that Harry had come looking for you first thing made you happy. But there was still the fact that he hadn't bothered to get in touch with you all week, and when you'd finally made the move he'd been stand-offish. What was so different about tonight? Was it just the party atmosphere that made him want to be with you?

"Cheers," announced Harry as he handed you a cup.

You smiled softly, bringing it to your lips. Whatever it was, it tasted good.

"Let's go outside," Harry suggested.

You followed him out onto the deck that was lit though the sky was pitch black. A handful of people were gathered around a small table smoking, so you and Harry walked to the far corner next to the railing. As you lifted your cup to take another drink, you immediately felt Harry's hand on your waist. You noticed he placed his glass on the edge of the wood railing before sliding his other hand around your waist and pulling you closer to him.

"Harry..." you muttered.

"Hmm?" he sounded as he lifted a hand and pulled your hair off your neck. You caught your breath with his lips met your skin.

Your eyelids fluttered as he continued to leave soft kisses on your neck. But you knew where this was headed. You needed to show restraint.

"Harry," you said again. "Wha-what are you doing?"

You tried to step closer to the edge of the deck, but Harry only closed in the space himself, his body up against your back as you gripped the railing.

"I'm devouring your delicious neck," he replied between kisses.

You cleared your throat, finally turning around to face him, despite his hold on you. However, Harry took it as an invitation to place his mouth on yours, literally taking your breath away. The meeting of your tongues sent an electric charge throughout your body, and your hands involuntarily slid up his chest. You felt it vibrate under your fingers as he chuckled against your mouth.

"Been thinking about me, haven't you?" he smirked when he released you from the kiss.

"What?" you asked incredulously.

"All week."

You furrowed your brows, not exactly sure what he was getting at. Was he being cocky?

"I...um..." you stumbled.

"It's okay," Harry added. "I've been thinking about you, too."

"Really." It was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, really."

His hands still around your waist, he pulled you closer, easing his fingers into your back pockets.

"Can't wait to feel you again," he murmured in your ear.

Pushing him back with the palms of your hands, you glared up at him and shook your head.

"I think I should go," you declared.

Harry's expression shifted drastically. "What? Why?"

"I see where this is headed," you explained, backing out of his arms. "I'm not that girl."

"Not what girl? What are you talking about?"

"I don't come to parties to hook up, Harry."

"Neither do I," he shrugged.

You pursed your lips and glared at him again.

"I don't," he said. "That's not my intention."

You scoffed. "It wasn't your intention to get me into bed last weekend?"

"No," he shook his head. "But it was amazing, and I'd like to do it again."

He took a step closer to you, reaching out but you backed further.

"Ugh," you rolled your eyes. "You're unbelievable."

"Y/N, c'mon, what's wrong? I thought you liked me."

"I did!" you exclaimed. Here it was. The word vomit. You were about to let him have it. "In fact, I liked you a lot, Harry. You actually texted me that night when I got home, I couldn't believe it! I thought maybe this was going somewhere, or had the possibility of going somewhere. Then you let five fucking days go by without a word. I finally had to text you, and you claimed you were busy."

"I was!" Harry nearly shouted.

You rolled your eyes. "Whatever."

"Y/N, I swear, I was! I had a big test yesterday that I was cramming for. I thought I was gonna fail the class. I was nervous as hell. I spent every waking moment studying. When you texted me, I was studying."

"So was I," you remarked. "But I still made time to pick up the phone."

Harry dropped his head and his shoulders. "I'm sorry. But I swear to God it's the truth."

You swallowed hard. You wanted to believe him, but right then you just couldn't.

"I'm going home," you announced.

Harry lifted his head, a frown on his face.

"Please don't," he whispered.

"Yeah," you nodded. "I'm not much in the party mood anyway."

When you turned around, you heard Harry sigh and curse under his breath. When you reached the back door, you looked over your shoulder at him. You felt your heart squeeze just a bit.

"Call or text me later...if you want," you said before walking in the house and leaving him on the deck.

If you enjoyed, please like, comment, reblog or send me a msg!

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[ladykailitha]

Royal Pain Part 16

Hello, darlings! I wanted to get this to you before I got too busy and forgot. My birthday is on Monday and I'm having a party on Saturday that I'm preparing for today, tomorrow, and most the day Saturday. I hope to get something out during that time, but I might not be able to get it up until Sunday.

Also I found out I was accidentally tagging @chaoticlovingdreamer twice! I don't think it did anything, but it was funny it took me this long to catch on!

Speaking of tagging, it used to be easy to tag from a copied list, just click on name, select drop down, move on to the next. But for some stupid reason I can't anymore and have to delete the last character in their username to get it to pop up. Is anyone else having this problem or is it just my life deciding to make it more difficult again?

Today for your enjoyment: communication, drunk Robin, and soulmate bonding!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

***

Eddie crowed inside when Steve blushed at his comment. “And for record, sweetheart, I could see us tangled in your sheets. Not just the hot sex but everything before and after. All I’m asking is to take it slow.”

Steve gulped. “I’ll go at whatever speed you need, Eds. Honest. You set the pace.” He gave Eddie’s hand a squeeze. “And if you change your mind tomorrow, I’m down for that, too. If you decide we’re better as friends, I’ll be your best friend, okay?”

Eddie smiled. “I think Jeff and Robin might take offense to that.”

Steve laughed. “Nah, nah, Robin is my platonic soulmate, that’s separate from best friend.”

Eddie grinned. “I guess Jeff is more like family then a best friend. All the guys are.”

“There you have it,” Steve said smiling at him, merriment sparkling in his eyes.

They walked hand in hand all the way the way to the Rainbow High Club. They were forced to let go to flash their IDs, but they stayed close to each other, blushing and smiling at each other every time they caught the other’s eyes.

Chrissy’s eyes lit up. “How have I never heard of this place?” she asked, trying to take in as much of the sights as she could all at once. “It’s amazing.”

“Who’re the DDs tonight?” Robin asked, gleefully rubbing her hands together.

Steve, Gareth and Mandy all raise their hands. Eddie pouted.

“Stevie, you’re not drinking tonight?” he whined.

Steve laughed. “I’m working on your tattoo tomorrow, sunshine. I am not working on you hung over.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

*

Now that Eddie and Steve knew where they stood with each other, that last barrier of tension vanished between them. They were laughing more freely. Touching more readily. Just having a blast knowing the potential for more was there waiting for them when they were willing to take that step.

Steve knew where the line in the sand was now and cranked up the charm to eleven. Just being a gentleman.

Eddie ate up the attention like a sunflower in summer following the sun. He felt that last bit of worry just clatter to floor like a chain coming off of a worn gate after so many years being locked away.

Jeff and Mandy ate it up on the dance floor, pulling Gareth with them as they got the shyer man to come out of his shell a little bit.

Brian even managed to get the DJ to play a little metal. Steve sipped on a Coke and laughed as he watched his friends get silly on the dance. He had barely finished his drink when Robin grabbed his hand and led him to the dance floor.

He cussed her out but she just kissed his cheek and told him to move his hips for fuck’s sake.

His dancing was terrible, but he let himself join the crowd and sway to the beat.

Eddie said in his ear, “You know in ‘Pride and Prejudice’ being a bad dancer meant you were bad at sex.”

Steve snorted. “Seriously?”

Eddie nodded. “So you know I’ve got to ask...”

“No, trust me when I say I tango better in bed than out of it,” Steve said with a giggle.

“You got receipts for that, big boy?” Eddie asked, dropping his voice low, startling a gasp out of Steve.

His giggle turned into a full on laugh. “You want a list of my very satisfied exes?”

“And their phone number,” Eddie teased back. “If you’re going to win me over Casanova, I’m gonna need references.”

“I think I can handle that,” Steve said in total seriousness.

Eddie pushed him away, a laugh stuttering out of him. “Get off, you menace. Jeez!”

Steve backed up, giving him the space. “You started it.”

“Sorry I forgot you were Mr Charm Everyone’s Panties Off in high school,” Eddie said rolling his eyes.

Steve chuckled. “I’ve still got it, I just don’t date much because I have to run a shop.”

Eddie leaned back in. “And honey, I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve grinned.

*

At the bar a blond man with legs for days and a cocky grin leaned against the edge of the bartop with his elbows. Ink peaked out of the black tank top he was wearing and he had piercings in both ears and a snakebite piercing on his lower lip. He lowered his sunglasses as he watched Eddie and Steve on the dance floor. His bright blue eyes glittered with malice, the grin never leaving his face.

*

Steve got a giggling Robin up the stairs to their apartment and into her bed. He pulled off her jacket and shoes and rolled her under the covers. She made grabby hands at him when he stood back up.

“I’m going to get ready for bed and I’ll be right back,” he told her.

She pouted, but let him go.

Steve made a mad dash to his room, where he threw on his pajama pants and a faded band tee and rushed back to Robin’s room.

“Where you go?” she asked with a frown.

He shook his head and climbed into bed with her. She immediately latched to him like some kind of possessive sea creature. Like a an octopus or a barnacle.

“Why did you surround me with pretty girls?” she wailed. “All the pretty girls all at once.”

Steve snorted. Mandy and Chrissy were not ‘all’ by anyone’s stretch of the imagination.

“Mandy has a boyfriend,” he gently reminded her.

“Did you know she did ballet?” Robin whisper-yelled. “That’s why she has such long legs and great tits.”

“Yes, I was there when she told us,” Steve soothed.

“And Chrissy was athletic, too!” Robin continued. “Cheerleading is scary hot.”

Steve huffed out a small laugh. “What does that even mean?”

“The...” she made a weird motion with her hands, “and the woo...” she threw her arms in the air, “and the ‘yay!’ That’s scary.”

He rolled his eyes. “The tumbling?”

Robin hit his arm over and over. “That, that! Yes. And the hot is the uniform. Have you seen the uniform?” she growled.

Steve laughed. “I was in basketball, yes. You know one of the two sports that has cheerleaders?”

“The skirt is itty-bitty,” she slurred, putting her hands together as close as they would go without touching. “And no sleeves! Bare midriffs too. And and the cute little socks!”

“Can’t forget the cute little socks,” he agreed.

She slapped his arm again, this time harder. “And don’t you dare try to change the subject. I see you.” She pointed at her eyes and then at him, nearly poking his eye out.

“I didn’t change anything,” he muttered, “you started talking and haven’t stopped.”

“I saw you run the bathroom after the concert, gig, thingy...” she frowned. “What is it called the every day one not the tour-y one?”

“Gig,” Steve said gently.

Robin slapped his arm again. “Don’t change the subject!” she hissed. “You got hella horny watching your boy sing!” She threw out her arms and did hit him in the face that time.

“Yes,” he agreed. “I will be better prepared next time we go.”

“You have the hots for Eddie,” she said leaning in close.

But before Steve could answer, Robin was out cold. Her low tolerance for alcohol knocking her out at last. He carefully untangled himself from her embrace knowing that her drunken snoring would be like a buzzsaw in his ear if he slept in her room.

He pulled his shirt off and slipped into his own covers a smile on his face.

*

The next morning he had coffee and the greasiest breakfast sandwich he could find ready for his platonic soulmate when she staggered out of bed and into the kitchen. He handed her a small glass of water and painkillers, which she took under his watchful eye.

“I feel like I should hate for this,” she muttered into her steaming styrofoam cup.

Steve grinned, knowing full well that if laughed, she would straight on murder him and he really didn’t want to go yet.

“Also, don’t think you dodged the talk about you rushing to the bathroom after the show,” she grumped. “Because that was a bit pervy even for you.”

Steve rolled his eyes as he chowed down on his own less greasy sandwich. “I was totally unprepared for how hot he was that close up,” he snarked.

Robin raised an eyebrow. “He did seem particularly out to get you with that little number he was wearing last night.”

“Seriously,” he agreed. “But I’ll know better next time, plan ahead, sit behind the table.”

She giggled.

He propped his head on his hands, elbows planted on their counter. “But enough about that. I want to talk about two lovely blondes making goo-goo eyes at each other all night.”

She pushed his arm causing him to almost smack his face into the counter as he lost the support.

“Shut up,” Robin hissed. “She did not make goo-goo eyes at me all night. I would have noticed.”

Steve laughed. “I noticed you didn’t deny making goo-goo eyes at her.”

She blushed, and took a sip of her coffee to hide her embarrassment. “She’s so pretty and smart and how I am suppose to win her over when she so far out of my league.”

Steve came over and grabbed both of her cheeks in his hands. “Robin Eloise Buckley you are just as beautiful and smart and talented as she is. Just in a different way. I know right now you’re feeling morose because you have a hangover. So trust me in this moment, you are every bit as awesome as she is and if she doesn’t see that then we say?”

“Fuck that?” she whispered.

“I don’t think I heard you,” he said cocking the side of his head so he could tilt his right ear her direction.

“Fuck that,” Robin said with more conviction.

“There you go,” he said and gave her a fierce kiss on the forehead. “Now what I want you to do while I’m gone is watch the ‘Pride & Prejudice’ mini-series with that tub of Ben & Jerry’s I know you’ve been saving and when I’m done I’ll grab Chinese from that favorite shop on the corner, okay?”

She set the coffee down and gave him a fierce hug. “You’re the best soulmate a girl could ask for.”

Steve squeezed her back. “Hard same.”

She laughed. “You are such a dork.”

“Yes, but I’m your dork.”

***

Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1@a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat

[saintofdaggers]

happy Mandy Monday. let's all take a minute to appreciate the best female character in modern horror <3

[craigslisthorses]

Medusa aka Mandy, for Magnificent Monday. A twenty-something year old lesson horse and conformational trainwreck with a bite like a shark but you can't tell from this picture. Truly the best boy who's carried many kids around their first jump courses and me to many rosettes (when he was younger). The horse who taught me to listen. Love him to the moon and back.

[sweetperversiongirl]

Thank you Rayray @rayrayor for encouraging me to participate in the Drabble Challenge ♥ Thanks to Mandi @bawlbrayker for helping me edit this ♥

Here's my drabble on request number 15: “I’d kill for a coffee...literally.”

Morning crept inexorably into Ian and Mickey's bedroom, along with the sun's insidious rays. They should have gotten new blinds to replace the old ones Ian had taken from Lip and Tami's house in Milwaukee. In fact, Ian wasn't the least bit bothered by the fact that he had to wake up literally at the crack of dawn. He had long since gotten used to the strict regimen. The same could not be said for his husband, who had become particularly restless lately. Besides, Mickey had always hated the beginning of the work week.

Not that Ian thought there was any reason for Mickey's restlessness. But apparently Mickey himself thought otherwise.

The agitated tossing under the covers signaled to Ian that his husband was awake, and not in the best of spirits. It didn't come as a surprise to him either.

"Fucking shit!" Mickey jumped up from the bed so abruptly that the phone Ian was holding fell onto his chest.

Raising an eyebrow, Ian decided he wasn't going to release any comments just yet. Instead, he preferred to focus on enjoying the magnificent sight of his grumpy and completely naked husband. He couldn't hold back a disappointed sigh as Mickey quickly picked up the first boxers he could find from the floor and put them on, thus depriving Ian of an important part of his aesthetic pleasure.

Standing in front of the window, Mickey grabbed the blinds, crumpling them at the edges. He then jerked his arms violently, pulling the blinds off the window, allowing sunlight to fill their bedroom.

"Might as well not have this shit in here," Mickey yelled, throwing the now permanently broken blinds to the floor. Glancing over his shoulder, he threw Ian an angry look. "You should give this shit back…” he kicked the blinds with his foot,"to your fucking brother. I'll be fucking glad to know that asshole has as fucked up a morning start as we do."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with my morning," Ian couldn't resist commenting, for which he was immediately rewarded with two blue knives pointed right between his eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I completely forgot that you are Mr. 'Nothing Can Take Away My Zen'. In that case, Master Shifu, could you stop thinking only about your own ass for a second and take care of your fucking neighbor? Isn't that what fucking kung fu teaches?"

"Actually, kung fu teaches you to be more tolerant of your neighbor first and foremost," Ian snapped back. "I'm sure I've been pretty good at it so far, Mickey."

With those words, he threw back the covers and slipped out of bed. His morning boner stared proudly at the ceiling as Ian stalked naked into the bathroom. He didn't like the fact that his husband had managed to get him off balance so quickly, but Mickey's lustful sigh behind Ian's back made up for that brief discomfort.

Ian's peace of mind was fully restored after Mickey caught up with him in the bathroom doorway. Ian received his rightful morning blowjob, which he immediately returned to Mickey with all the enthusiasm of which he was capable.

Brushing his teeth, Mickey mentioned in passing that Kit, their new West Side client, had turned out to be a sneaky bastard who'd tried his best to drive the price of shit down. Ian simply reminded Mickey that credit should be given to Kit, since it was Mickey who had arbitrarily jacked up the price of shit. The incident was over.

Until it turned out that there was no coffee in their apartment.

________________________________________________________

As they approached Starbucks, they found a line a mile long, which in itself was not surprising for a Monday morning. The next coffee shop was much less crowded, much to Ian's sincere joy. All his hopes of getting the morning going again were dashed immediately after the waiter mixed up their order and brought them iced coffee.

"If I liked drinking this shit, I'd have stayed in fucking Mexico!" shouted Mickey desperately as Ian dragged him outside, wrapping his arms around his stomach.

Eventually, after all the morning's misadventures, they found themselves in a tiny, unremarkable coffee shop. By West Side standards, it was just a hole in the wall, mostly ignored by the civilized locals. Ian figured: why not? After all, he and Mickey were still ghetto dudes, right? His temporary excitement quickly faded when he and Mickey walked up to the counter and found there.... the laziest barista in fucking Chicago.

Ian read the man's name on the nametag.

"Good morning, uh... Squidward?" he greeted the barista with the most idiotic name he'd ever seen. After the guy didn't even bother to look up from his phone at him, Ian decided to order anyway. "Double Americano and an Americano with cream, please."

Again, no response. Throwing a glance at his husband, who was leaning his butt on one of the tables, Ian realized Mickey was approaching boiling point. He returned his attention to the barista, already seriously contemplating that a plate of stale oatmeal cookies would look good on this guy's head.

"Hey, Mr. Tentacles," Ian muttered through clenched teeth.

Meanwhile, Mickey had gotten his ass off the table and walked over to the counter, resting his palms on it. A sly smile played on Ian's lips as he reached across the counter and slapped Squidward hard on the shoulder. The man didn't even flinch at this unceremonious invasion of his personal space. Instead, he slowly raised his head and stared at Ian, blinking his sleepy fish eyes stupidly, as if he didn't know there was anyone here but him.

Ian arched an eyebrow and nodded at Mickey's tattooed fingers, which his husband defiantly spread, knuckles pressing against the counter.

"I suspect you can read. Can you see what it says here?"

This time it apparently reached Squidward what an unpleasant situation he had gotten himself into. He swallowed awkwardly, and then, like an idiot, began to read aloud the writing on Mickey's knuckles. This made Ian growl impatiently and Mickey snort smugly.

"Bite him, Hercules!"

"Jesus Christ," Ian rolled his eyes, ignoring his shithead husband's retort. "Are the people in this place even capable of reading between the lines?" The barista blinked dumbly again. "Look," Ian noisily let the air out of his lungs. He points at Mickey’s tattooed fingers and spells it out, "It says, 'I'd kill for a coffee.' And that's not a euphemism, Mr. Tentacles. We understand each other now, right?"

With a hasty nod, Squidward jumped up from his seat.

A few minutes later, Ian and Mickey were enjoying a fairly decent coffee, seated at a table in the deserted coffee shop. They'd even allowed themselves to get a little fucked in the bathroom because Mickey was so damn horny. Ian thought he guessed the reason for that.

"Bye, Sponge fucking Bob. See you later," Mickey called out cheerfully, waving goodbye to Squidward as they left the café.

Once outside, Ian put his arm around his husband's waist and pulled him to him for a brief but deep kiss.

"Do you think he'll be happy to see us here again?"

"I don't care if he'll be glad or not," Mickey snorted. He looked relaxed now, which Ian couldn't help but be pleased about. "We'll definitely come back here again. Dude's a dickhead, sure, but his coffee's pretty damn good."

A wolfish smile blossomed on Ian's lips.

"Are you sure it's not because I turn you on so much when I'm angry?"

"Oh for fuck's sake, Peter fucking Pan," Mickey rolled his eyes. "You know you look like a golden retriever most of the time, right?"

Twisting out of Ian's embrace, Mickey headed toward their parked car. Ian rushed after Mickey, resenting being demoted so abruptly.

"Hey, what happened to fucking Hercules?"

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Balearic Beats (The Album Vol 1) 1988 Balearic Beat / Disco / House / Industrial

Man, this is such a momentous fuckin' album that was compiled by legends Paul Oakenfold, Pete Tong, and Trevor Fung back in '88. Here they deliver the first compilation to *ever* attempt to encapsulate the sound of the wide-ranging 'Balearic beat,' a dance phenomenon whose home was in the party capital of the world, on the Spanish isle of Ibiza, where plenty of Europeans would visit and end up drawing inspiration from. And with this album, these three guys appear to have finally successfully broken through, able to bring this very quirky vibe into the UK to coat its own exploding dance music scene during the historic 'Second Summer of Love,' which saw the Chicago-born genre of acid house reach critical mass among the youth and spawn a first generation of ravers.

But Balearic beat is not something that one can easily describe, because its most defining trait is that it really only has one rule: so long as there is some sort of tangible beat that's danceable, it'll do. Essentially, Balearic beat represents an extremely expansive coterie of a whole bunch of different genres: pop, rock, house, disco—pretty much everything that ranges between James Brown funk records and industrial music, and with blends of psychedelia, Italo flavor, plenty of leftfield experimentalism, guitar rock, and chunks of world music too. It's probably the single-most unique dance music scene that this world's ever borne witness to, and it not only allowed, but actively encouraged DJs to take unprecedented levels of risk in their own selections, as a culture of decadence, hedonism, freedom, and acceptance was nurtured and fostered.

And Oakenfold and co. really tried to bring this vibe and approach into the UK's own dance consciousness a couple times between '87 and '88, after returning from summers spent on Ibiza and opening up a couple nightclubs. But things finally started taking hold with Oakey's own Monday club night called Spectrum at gay superclub Heaven in Westminster, London. And this comp, with liner notes provided by Boy's Own's Terry Farley, represents those Spectrum club nights, as well as stuff from Shoom, which is the club where the UK's acid house movement first originated. Shoom was founded by Oakenfold compatriot Danny Rampling, whose own first trip to Ibiza with Oakey and others is what inspired him to open up the club in the first place. And Rampling took ecstasy for the first time on that Ibiza trip too 💊😁🥹.

So, from a glance, by looking at this tracklist and not having any familiarity with what Balearic beat entails, you might see this list of songs and inevitably scratch your head: Italo-jazz saxophonist Enzo Avitabile?; pop starlet Mandy Smith, who's unfortunately best known for having an underage relationship with former Rolling Stone Bill Wyman and then marrying him 🤮?; San Francisco avantgardists The Residents taking the bassline from "Billie Jean" and fashioning a cover of a Hank Williams honky-tonk tune out of it?; EBM group Nitzer Ebb?; industrial act Fini Tribe on a weird, cocaine-fueled tribal disco tip with ringing and clanging bells??? What on earth is this?!?!?

But don't worry, now that you have a proper frame of reference, it'll all make a whole lot more sense when you actually put this album on 😎.

And we gotta make special mention of this release's opener too, "Jibaro" by Oakenfold and Steve Osborne's Balearic electronic project, Electra. Yesterday I posted about an Italo comp that was put out by this same Pete Tong-run FFRR label called The House Sound of Europe - Vol. V - 'Casa Latina', and I remarked that although the Electra track on there really had no business being included—because it was neither Italian-made nor really a house tune—it was still the best track that that comp had to offer, as it was the pure ultimate in 80s Ibiza silky-chillness. But this "Jibaro" track, a cover of a mid-70s Spanish psychedelic disco-funk tune, and whose own 12-inch art inspired the album art for this comp itself, represents a different branch of that girthy Balearic tree, because this one's a full-fledged house jam; slower than a typical house tune, but a house tune nonetheless; and with a richly patched-together sonic quilt of different sounds that *majorly* diverges from all the black, queer, and acid-jacking beauty that'd been emanating from Chicago.

So, ultimately, this was a very important album in the grand scheme of things. Balearic beat brought a very elastic dimension to the acid house movement writ large in the UK, and if you'll now all allow me to unveil my corkboard-and-yarn setup here to give you all a parting glimpse of just how intertwined all of this got within the UK's own vibrant, fluid, and interconnected music landscape, let's bring all of this full-circle by talking about legendary Manchester new wave band New Order.

New Order once took a two-week trip to Ibiza that had such a profound effect on them that it yielded their fifth studio LP, Technique, in 1989. And they also owned a very popular club in Manchester called The Haçienda. In '88, The Haçienda would launch its own Ibiza-themed club nights, which then played an integral role in the development of the city's own Madchester scene, a style of alternative dance music that saw indie bands mesh their sound with psychedelia and acid house beats. And one of Madchester's biggest landmarks ended up being 1990's Pills 'n' Thrills and Bellyaches, an album by a group called Happy Mondays that was co-produced by none other than the Electra boys themselves—Paul Oakenfold and Steve Osborne! 🤯

Highlights:

Electra - "Jibaro" Code 61 - "Drop the Deal" Beats Workin' - "Sure Beats Workin'" Enzo Avitabile - "Black Out" Mandy Smith - "Mandy's Theme (I Just Can't Wait) (Cool & Breezy Jazz Version)" The Residents - "Kaw-Liga (Prairie Mix)" The Woodentops - "Why Why Why (Live)" Fini Tribe - "De Testimony (Collapsing Edit)" The Thrashing Doves - "Jesus On the Payroll"

[sleeepying]

Its the best mandy monday ever bc i get to give blood for saw today 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳

[laresearchette]

Monday, April 01, 2024 Canadian TV Listings (Times Eastern)

WHERE CAN I FIND THOSE PREMIERES?: VANDERPUMP VILLA (Disney + Star) THE SYNANON FIX (HBO Canada) 9:00pm

WHAT IS NOT PREMIERING IN CANADA TONIGHT?: 2024 iHeartRadio MUSIC AWARDS (FOX Feed) LOVERS AND LIARS (CW Feed) ALL AMERICAN (Premiering on April 08 on Showcase at 8:00pm)

NEW TO AMAZON PRIME CANADA/CBC GEM/CRAVE TV/DISNEY + STAR/NETFLIX CANADA:

AMAZON PRIME CANADA ALLAN QUATERMAIN & THE LOST CITY OF GOLD AT CLOSE RANGE BLAME IT ON RIO BLOODSPORT BREATHLESS BULLETPROOF MONK CASINO CLASS DARK BLUE DARK ANGEL DR. SEUSS’ THE CAT IN THE HAT EYE OF THE NEEDLE FLAWLESS FLESH+BLOOD HARLEY DAVIDSON AND THE MARLBORO MAN KOYAANISQATSI THE LAST WALTZ LOL: CHI RIDE E FUORI (Season 4) MOBY DICK NOT WITHOUT MY DAUGHTER THE PARTY ROLLING THUNDER TOP GEAR (Seasons 14-25) THE TRAIN VALLEY GIRL VAMPIRE’S KISS WARCRAFT WHITE NIGHT

CBC GEM DYLAN’S PLAYTIME ADVENTURES

CRAVE TV LITTLE JESUS THE SYNANON FIX (Season 1, Episode 1)

DISNEY + STAR VANDERPUMP VILLA (Three-Episode Premiere)

NETFLIX CANADA THE MAGIC PRANK SHOW WITH JUSTIN WILLMAN

CURLING (TSN/TSN5) 8:00am: LGT World Men's Curling Championship: Canada vs. Italy

NHL HOCKEY (SN) 7:00pm: Panthers vs. Leafs (SN Now) 9:00pm: Oilers vs. Blues (TSN3) 9:00pm: Kings vs. Jets

MLB BASEBALL (SN1) 8:00pm: Jays vs. Pirates (SN Now) 10:00pm: Giants vs. Dodgers

NBA BASKETBALL (SN Now) 8:00pm: Suns vs. Pelicans

MURDOCH MYSTERIES (CBC) 8:00pm: After a man dies in a drunken brawl at the Starbright Lounge, Murdoch's suspect is another detective.

WARDENS OF THE NORTH (Discovery Canada) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Conservation officers crack down on boaters not complying with the law; a routine fishing patrol has officers tracking down over-the-limit anglers; a kayaker is reminded that lifejackets work best when worn, even when close to home.

SOCIAL MEDIA MURDERS (T&E) 8:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): Alex Rodda, a 15-year-old teenager, is murdered by 18-year-old Matthew Mason in December 2019, six weeks after they first exchange messages via social media.

SECRETS IN THE ICE (Super Chanel Fuse) 8:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): A grim discovery in a Swedish lake reveals ancient practices; in the Canadian Arctic, the fossil of a previously unknown mammal is found; bizarre ice formations in the Antarctic Ocean; a discovery off the east coast of Canada.

BELGRAVIA: THE NEXT CHAPTER (CBC) 9:00pm (SEASON FINALE): As Frederick grieves the loss of Clara, Enright receives a letter that pushes Frederick to confront his past; Clara and Davison adapt to life in the North, as Clara grapples with happy memories of home.

OUTBACK OPAL HUNTERS (Discovery Canada) 9:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): The Bushmen bring in an explosives expert to blast through the toughest rock in Grawin; plus, a brand-new team brings cutting edge technology to the opal fields.

SPOOKED IRELAND (DTour) 9:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): The team ventures to Charleville Castle, where they face a multitude of spirits who seem to have turned against the castle's current occupants by trapping them in cupboards and keeping them up at night with screams and singing.

EXPEDITION X (Discovery Canada) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): Phil and Jess explore the world's most haunted forest near the site of the Dracula legend and where Josh Gates had his most terrifying experience; during a night investigation, Jess finds herself being watched by someone or something sinister.

THE PLAYBOY MURDERS (Investigation Discovery) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): In the late '90s, Playboy twins Sandy and Mandy Bentley's fame soars until an affair with a Vegas High Roller leads to a fall from fame, stolen jewels, a shadowy buyer and a brutal double murder in the Hollywood hills.

MASTERCHEF AUSTRALIA (CTV Life) 10:00pm (SEASON PREMIERE): A group of 12 home cooks will compete with 12 former contestants.

MURDER AT MY DOOR WITH KYM MARSH (documentary) 10:00pm/11:00pm (SERIES PREMIERE): The story of 17-year-old Thomas Griffiths, who killed his girlfriend and arranged the crime scene to look like a suicide after she broke up with him. In Episode Two, 19-year-old Mundill Mahil lures a young TV executive to his death in an act of revenge following an attempted rape six months earlier.

[mourntheantagonist]

Hey Mandi!!! I'm writing this at like 3 minutes to midnight because my Monday was honestly horrible and I tried picking myself up out of this depressive slump with some fanfics and I finally got around to reading your mother. effin. AWESOME series "Billy Hargrove's exploration of beauty" which BLEW MY MIND!!! I'm in awe of how talented you are with words- oh my gosh! I hope to write my fics as well as yours one day and I really wanna say thank you SO MUCH for making this new ship that much more fun to fall in love with because Billy - I can't describe, he is such a layered character that's so brokenly beautiful, and him and Steve just work so well together. Your works are amazing! I can't wait to read more and I look forward to you finishing the latest installment of the series. I haven't read it yet, but take all the time you need to finish, I've got your other beautiful fanfics to read!! xoxo

I can't tell you how emotionally wrecked I was to read that series, but it made my heart melt in the best way and really brightened up my evening, so thank you SO SO SO MUCH! ❤️

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD THIS IS SO 🥹🥹🥹🥹 HELP THIS IS SO NICE! It’s literally the best thing to hear when someone likes my writing, and especially that one because that one holds such a special place in my heart that I cannot even begin to describe. You describe Billy so perfectly—beautifully broken, brokenly beautiful. It’s why I love him so much and am always searching for new ways to put him back together.

Thank you so much for this, seriously. I always get so insecure about the way I write, and it’s always helpful to hear that there’s a reason I keep these fics posted to the internet ❤️

[bravo-four-seal-team]

Where the Sea meets the Sky (and Land connects the Hearts)

Summary:

Eric Blackburn and Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell used to date in the academy, it was kept a secret by their friends Goose and Adam, until one tragic day. Goose was killed in a training accident. Maverick ended things on a sour note, blaming the other man for being a distraction. Now Bravo team being led by Eric Blackburn has been called in to help located a Top Gun captain who was taken hostage after his plane went down and he bailed out.

How will everyone cope with seeing each other again?

CHAPTER TWO

If there was one thing Eric Blackburn hated, it was rainy Monday mornings. He'd grown accustomed to the calm weather in Virginia Beach, but dreary grey clouds and constant rain weren’t his idea of a good start into the week. He took a sip of his coffee and looked up when someone knocked on the door.

“Enter!”

"Commander Blackburn? Admiral Simmons is here to see you", the admin clerk told him.

An admiral? Why? “Thank you, Thompson.”

As the admiral entered, Eric dutifully saluted him and stood at attention. He didn’t miss the wings pinned to the man’s uniform lapel or the signs of stress and fatigue in the lines of his face. An uneasy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach.

“At ease, Commander”, Admiral Simmons said with a nod. “I’ve been told your SEAL team is the best there is. We have an emergency.”

This was not how Eric expected his Monday to begin. As the Admiral handed over a file, he sighed softly, pressing the shortcut on his phone to send a mass text to Bravo with the simple message: Briefing asap .

“Your intelligence officer has already been briefed”, Simmons told him as they headed to the briefing room. “The mission has been approved, but it is top secret.”

While waiting for Bravo to join them, Eric opened the file. His heart dropped.

Oh God.

The door opened and Bravo filed into the room, chatting quietly amongst themselves. They must have read something in Eric’s expression because they sobered up and quickly sat down.

"Alright, listen up”, Eric said as soon as the door closed, “this mission is an urgent one. Agent Ellis?"

He was glad to let Mandy take point on this briefing, and not just because it was nice to have her back. He could have sworn his heart missed a few beats when the picture of their objective came on screen. From his vantage point off to the side, he could see Clay do a double take, blue eyes going wide.

"A naval aviator, Captain Pete Mitchell, was shot down 48 hours ago over enemy territory”, Mandy began. “His canopy was spotted by members of his squadron and primary rescue was launched. However, the rescue crew was intercepted by enemy aircraft and had to retreat. Tangos on the ground were seen dragging Mitchell off, but we are still waiting on satellite and aerial images of the area."

Admiral Simmons stepped forward to address the team. "Gentlemen, this is one of the best Top Gun graduates and one of, if not the best pilot the Navy has. Alive or dead, we want him back."

"Pararescue is out of the question, they can’t get anywhere near, that's why we are called in”, Blackburn spoke up, noting the silent question on some of his men’s faces. “Wheels up in an hour, boys. We're going sailing."

"This is bullshit!" Struggling out of his gear, Rooster scowled. "Mav needs us!"

Phoenix looked at him, her brows furrowed. "I only saw his chute deploy, Roos…", she said softly. "There’s no telling if he even survived the bail out.”

Bob, her backseater, had his eyes closed and his head down. "They probably wouldn't have kept him alive for long either.”

“You don’t know that”, Rooster argued.

Glances were exchanged across the room, but nobody knew what to say or how to handle this situation.

"I agree with Bradshaw”, Hangman said with a sigh.

Rooster’s head jerked up, confusion flickering over the worry and pain in his expression.

Hangman continued: “Maverick is still out there and he needs us. We need to get back out there and do something ."

Coyote nodded. Fanboy muttered an agreement.

They all jumped when the door opened and Warlock entered. He looked at them. “NAVSOC has green-lit a rescue mission for Maverick”, he told them solemnly. “DEVGRU assets have been briefed.”

“We’ll be part of the rescue, right?” Rooster’s hands were clenched tight around his parachute pack.

Warlock gave him a sympathetic look. “That’s out of our hands.”

"Blackburn, you good?", Jason asked as the helo dipped slightly, the thump-thump of the rotor blades slicing through the air getting louder for a moment as the pilot adjusted their course.

The commander snapped out of his thoughts. "Fine." The closer they were getting to the carrier, the more his stomach churned. It had been ages since he’d last seen Maverick. More than 30 years. A lifetime.

Ray leaned forward. "How do you know him?”

I don’t. I thought I did, once upon a time. Blackburn sighed. "Old friends”, he offered and briefly considered leaving it at that. He didn’t. “The picture beside Adam’s in the Bulkhead. The aviator?"

"What about it?", came the question from Sonny.

Blackburn really didn’t want to have this conversation, not here, not now, not anytime soon if he could have his way. But there was no taking it back now, so he explained: “That’s Lieutenant Nick Bradshaw, callsign Goose. Adam and I met him when we were in the Academy. He flew with Maverick, was his RIO and best friend. He was killed in a training accident, Adam and I put his image up since he lived out in VA Beach at times… Maverick cut us off after Goose’s death. Never heard from him again."

As the helo descended on final approach to the carrier, Eric heard Clay murmur “I had no idea”.

Climbing out of the helo, Bravo quickly made their way off the landing pad. Following Admiral Simmons inside, they pretend not to notice that people are staring at them.

“They’re looking at us like we’re the most interesting thing on this ship”, Sonny muttered.

“We probably are”, Trent joked drily.

“Shame Metal isn’t here”, Brock chimed in, adjusting his hold on Pepper’s leash as she excitedly sniffed around. “That would’ve made things more interesting.”

A beat passed as they all thought of their lost brother. It had been a year, but they still missed him.

“You mean he’d be having a staring contest with every single one of those people”, Clay said with a lopsided grin, making them all chuckle.

Dagger Squadron was on its way to the cafeteria after debrief when they saw the group of newcomers, led by Cyclone himself.

Bob interrupted himself mid-sentence to tell Phoenix: “Look at that dog, isn’t it cute?”, to which Coyote responded: “Cute? Bob, have you seen those teeth?”

Phoenix snorted and backed up her WSO. The dog really was cute.

They heard snatches of conversation over the ambient noise of the carrier, the rustle of tactical gear and the clattering of dog paws. Cyclone and the commander appeared to be talking about logistics and responsibilities, the two men behind them were holding a conversation with telling glances alone. The other four men lagged a few paces behind and while the man with the dog and the guy next to him didn’t say much either, they seemed highly amused by the other two: One of the men – a Texan, from the sound of it – was passionately griping about being on a ship, about hating the ocean and something about jellyfish and Elle Woods. The other was egging him on with a gleeful smirk.

“At least there’s no GOPLATs for you to swan-dive off of, Peter Pan”, the Texan commented.

The aviators blinked, traded puzzled looks.

The blond just laughed.

Rooster nearly tripped over a knee-knocker and bumped into Hangman. He was vaguely aware of his teammate saying something, but he didn’t understand a word of it, his ears still ringing with the sound of that laughter. He’d recognise that laugh anywhere.

Bradley is laughing as he watches his mother dance in the kitchen with Clay, the 3-year-old boy giggling and laughing.

The young boy could easily pass as his biological brother, or even as Uncle Ice’s son. He waves to Clay, who has the biggest smile on his face, before his blue eyes snap to the door and he starts shouting “Uncle Mav, Uncle Mav!”.

Uncle Mav is followed by Uncle Adam, who looks exhausted and promptly collapses on the couch, muttering things about idiots and the teams.

“Rooster!”

He jerked, coming back to himself.

“The hell is the matter with you?”, Hangman snapped.

“Sorry, thought I saw someone.”

[docolives]

SEPTEMBER 1ST - 6TH, 2024

What kind of student were you? Did you dread the first day back to school, or were you the type of kid preparing for it a week in advance, to be ready to go?

The very best student, for so many reasons. One, because I felt like it was the right, expected thing of me. I wanted to be the good student that got the praise of my parents and my teachers, that was really important to me. Two, I wanted to set a really good example for Mandy and Mikey for when they were in school. Three, I liked to learn and wanted to get a good education. And, uh, four, I knew my parents wouldn't let me continue taking lessons and competing and therefore, no horses, if I didn't do well. But I was great, honestly. Never got anything lower than a B, and I cried about that.

Trust me, it wasn't just the first day back. Sunday nights, I had a ritual. I would clear out space in my closet and plan every outfit for Monday through Friday, flip over my weekly calendar to mark down assignments or chores, and then make sure that I was in bed, early, ready to go the next morning. And I was actually excited to go to school, that's the worst part!