#Tamsin is going into it :(

[classicwhatthefuckplotline]

i NEVER would have thought that 20 years later we'd have them all in the same room again i'm actually obsessed

[hadrassians]

twc doodle comp 🤝

introducing my girls!! johanna rivera (m/n-mancer, dresses like an 80 year old man, takes her job way too serious) and tamsin langford (a/f-mancer, pensive, tiny glasses)

[sunliights]

a continuation from here for @coquetties

"don't get me wrong, cindy. you're nice and all—" this wasn't a very goodbye since tamsin was really no good at goodbyes. typically, she avoided them and dipped at the first chance she got. she thought cindy deserved a little better than that, though. she hadn't wanted to hurt her by running off but now she wondered if that would've been the easier thing to do. "there's just a lot out there i've got to see, you know?" her attempt at reasoning comes with a thin, tense smile. "it wouldn't be fair for me to keep things going with you."

[leebrontide]

Advice for People Who Make Things

Years ago when I was getting started in drawing comics a very kind pro was offering portfolio reviews online, and granted me one.

She told me, very kindly, that I needed to draw backgrounds in more of my panels. I agreed, and said I'd been reading a lot of Fumi Yoshinaga comics lately, and admire her use of negative space so much (it really is spectacular), and was trying to copy that.

I'll never forget, she answered "There comes a time in every artists life when they have to accept that they aren't Fumi Yoshinaga."

Now, whenever I'm getting irritated with myself for not being able to do something the way some other creator does it- particularly when that creator is KNOWN for their very advanced use of whatever it is, my wife tells me "There comes a time in every artists life when they have to accept that they aren't Fumi Yoshinaga."

Now I draw beautiful backgrounds that I'm proud of, and that some other people have envied.

I can still learn from other people making things, and I do. But I don't have to try to be them. I don't have to be THAT great artist/author/creator. But I can work at being my own kind of great creator.

[capaldiera]

kira had a boyfriend and he had a weird psychosexual thing with quark and then he left. she had a lesbian sexual tension thing with her new security chief and then found out she was dating quark for some reason. she became close friends with the wife of a significant figure in her religion and then that friend and quark became single-ish milf besties together. don't know what this means but kira doesn't much care for quark so poor her i guess

[aeronbracken]

SHE IS GOING HOOOOME RIDING HOOOMEEEEE

[frstwomn]

𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭?

you swallow pain & fold around it

you have always hurt. you hold it carefully, and twisted in such a way that other people don't have to see it. you don't choke on it. you don't drown. you just have it, the way some people have freckles, this is a thing that lives in your bones. you fold instead of fighting because you know how to make yourself small, tuck away the places where they have clawed at, swallow the bruises so you seem clean. nobody needs to see it. you will live through this on your own. you know what you need, and relief isn't it. this doesn't mean you cannot reach out - it means it is not in your nature to do so. you should. hiding does not mean you won't be seen

stolen from: @wornempathy​

tagging: anyone

[quilleth]

*finally* managed to get saves from book 1 and 2 that I’m happy with for Tamsin, so it’s time to go feral about book 3 now xD

I am looking for the hurt comfort and from the spoiler bits and hints i’ve seen, i won’t be disappointed :3

[attackoneyebrows]

now that i think abt it the queer death im least mad about is probably root and the one im definitely the most mad abt is tamsin

[portuguesedisaster]

Let Lucie and The Doctor hug challenge.

[gravehags]

the burn between our hearts

Pairing: Ghouls/Ghoulettes x f!Reader

Rating: Mature

Tags: ghouls doing ghoul shit, depression, tender emotions, surprise papa

Words: 2,524

Summary: You have never felt so lost, so empty before, and you are unsure if what's wrong with you can ever be fixed.

a/n: THIS IS IT the final installment of the ghoul bicycle series. I have had so much fun writing this and who knows, might be tempted to write a little more if inspiration strikes me. See end of post for another note.

~~~

33 days.

It’s been 33 days since you’ve seen or heard from any of the ghouls.

You spent the first two and a half weeks of that in your room, sobbing wildly in bed while Sister Marguerite sat next to you rubbing your back and murmuring words of comfort to you. Truth be told, the steady presence of the middle-aged sister provided a warmth that you desperately needed. She never spoke ill of the ghouls and what they had done to you, instead telling you to be patient. That the Unholy Father always provides. That there’s always more to a bad situation than it seems. All difficult words for you to believe when your heart had been shattered the day after you had left Aurora’s room. Your mind was torn - on one hand you had come to expect this: being cast aside once they were done using you. On the other hand…you really thought you had something special with them. From your first time with Swiss to your last time with Aurora and every interaction with every ghoul in between, you felt like you were finally home. That you had finally found your place in the Ministry, by their sides.

Or not.

After most of your tears dry and your depression lets up to the point where you can leave your bed, you become angry. Fucking infuriated. Even before they were your lovers, they were your friends. And they just ditch you and act like you don’t even fucking exist anymore? Fuck that. One evening, you get so mad you stride down to the ghoul den and begin banging on their bedroom doors, cussing and cursing their names. How dare they treat you like you’re disposable? But that’s been the story of your whole life, you suppose. Everyone gets tired of you eventually. With one last slam of your fist against the wall, hard enough to bruise and shake Cumulus’ door, your tears begin to slip out once more.

“FUCK YOU!” you shout, unsuccessfully holding back a sob. The silence in the corridor is deafening so you turn on your heel and leave without a glance backwards. You don’t see the door at the end of the hall cracking open and eyes watching you go.

You return to your chores in the abbey, ignoring the sneers and dirty glances your fellow siblings give you. You’re well aware you’ve been a nuisance to everyone, being holed up in your room and shirking your duties, and you're wracked with guilt. Sister Marguerite assures you sweetly that it’s okay, everyone goes through rough spells and your absence hasn’t caused any undue burden on the rest of the siblings but you have a hard time believing her. You attend your duties but without any real life in your eyes or spring in your step. When you cry, silently, every once in a while, your sniffles draw rolled eyes and scoffs. The siblings don’t say a word to you, until one day, the dam breaks. You’re in the library and let out a small, embarrassing sob as you shelve a book on love magic when a loud slam echoes throughout the library.

“You are so fucking ridiculous, do you know that?”

You don’t realize she’s talking to you until you turn slightly and see her searing gaze. It’s Sister Tamsin. You don’t know her - not really - but she’s well-liked by a lot of people in the abbey. She’s never spoken to you before this and you frantically wipe your tears as she walks closer to you. A small crowd has been attracted to the two of you now, multiple pairs of eyes shifting between you both.

“Acting this way because of the fucking ghouls. Like you’re supposed to be special or some bullshit. Honey, the ghouls fuck everyone. They can’t help themselves. All of us have had a ghoul proposition us at some point, you’re just the only one stupid enough to fall for it. They’re nothing but fucking animals–”

“They are not animals,” you say loudly in a shaky voice but Tamsin isn’t done berating you.

“--oh look at that! She finally uses her mouth to speak instead of just opening it for ghoul cock and cunt. Go on, sweetheart. Tell us all how those beasts love you so much. Their little whore. Their–”

The slap echoes throughout the large room, but both your hands remain clenched into fists by your sides. Looming over Tamsin’s doubled-over form is Sister Marguerite, looking like fury personified in her neat habit.

“You little cunt,” Marguerite spits, causing your eyebrows to raise. You’ve never heard her swear before. “You know just as well as everyone else in this room - in this whole abbey - how sacred the ghouls are. Summoned by our own Papa from the realm of the Unholy Father to help him spread the word of our ministry. And you dare defile their name - and the name of those they have chosen - for petty cruelty? You are nothing, Tamsin. A jealous little gnat. And rest assured, Papa will be hearing about this.”

No one in the room is stunned quite as much as you as Marguerite abandons the red-faced, humiliated Tamsin in order to come to your side and escort you out of the room with her arm firmly planted across your lower back. When you finally step out of the library, she shuts the door firmly behind her and grabs your biceps, pulling you into a hug.

“Enough is enough,” she murmurs, rubbing your back. “I’m relieving you of your duties for the day. Take care, hon. Go back to your room. I’ll be having a word with our Papa.”

With one last squeeze she hustles down the hall, skirts flying and you’re left shell-shocked in the empty corridor. You rub at your eyes with the heels of your hands before doing as she requested.

Three days pass.

Three days and not a single soul dares look at you sideways let alone speak to you. You notice, with a twisted sense of satisfaction, that Tamsin is nowhere to be found. Not in the library, not in the gardens - you haven’t seen her at mass or in the dining hall. When you quietly ask Marguerite about her she just gives you a beatific smile and says, “she’s no longer a problem for you.” Something within you warns you not to inquire further so instead you go back to your normal life. After you finish a shift in the kitchens for the evening, you step out into the cloisters and head for a small courtyard you enjoy. You plop down onto a stone bench with a heaving sigh, trying to ignore the constant ache in your heart as you breathe in the evening air.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your head whips to the side and when you see a figure dressed in a red tracksuit and the earnest face of Papa Emeritus IV you jump up.

“Papa!” you gasp, curtsying before him. “I–no! Please, sit.”

He lowers himself next to you, putting his gloved hands on his thighs and taking a deep breath.

“Nice out, eh?” he asks quietly. You’ve never seen Papa like this - out of the majority of his papal paints and elaborate robes - and you certainly have never spoken to him in conversation like this.

“Beautiful,” you say, folding your hands in your lap. His eyes lower to watch you rub your fingers anxiously and worry at your cuticles. Gently, he reaches over and places a hand over yours.

“I know you’ve been hurting, sorella,” he murmurs, thumb grazing over your knuckles.

“You…you do?” All of a sudden you’re filled with dread at the thought of your poor mental state and shirked duties being reported all the way to Papa. You open your mouth to explain yourself, to apologize profusely but he speaks first.

“My ghouls,” he begins, “are very peculiar creatures. They don’t take well to most humans.”

“Oh?”

“Sì, sì…they are very protective of each other and of me. And…they don’t take human lovers.”

“They…don’t?”

“Not at all, sorella. Which makes you a very peculiar creature yourself. Something that my ghouls noticed straightaway. Something that they have spoken to me a great length about.”

Your stomach does a backflip and he looks at you with his mismatched eyes.

“Sorella, they wanted me to tell you…it is time. Go to them. Go to the last door at the end of the hallway this evening. I apologize for not telling you more - telling you sooner - but they had much to accomplish and wanted this to be a surprise.”

Your heart feels as if it’s going to burst through your ribcage and tears form in your eyes as you regard him.

“Papa…” you say quietly, your voice cracking, “thank you. Ave Sathanas. Thank you, Papa.”

He smiles at you warmly, and reaches up to briefly cup your cheek before jerking his head towards the corridor behind the two of you.

“Go on, cara. They are waiting.”

Before you can doubt yourself, you plant a brief kiss on Papa’s cheek and scurry off. As you make your way on the familiar path to the ghoul den, your hands shake by your sides. What did Papa know? What did Marguerite know, always reminding you to have faith and patience and guiding you with a gentle hand? When you enter the corridor you force yourself to take a series of deep breaths. Swallowing hard, and guided as if by an invisible hand, your feet take you down the wide corridor, all the way to the door at the end. Your pulse thunders in your ears and after a beat, you raise your fist and knock twice before placing your hand on the knob and turning slowly.

What meets your gaze after the door creaks open instantly brings tears to your eyes.

They’re there - all ten of them - standing in various spots in the large room staring at you. When you choke out a pathetic sob, Swiss is by your side in an instant.

“Hey, babygirl,” he says quietly, hand rubbing between your shoulder blades. “Do you like it?”

When you look up at him quizzically, he gestures to the room. You hadn’t even noticed the setting for all the ghouls you adored so dearly. A bed - a ridiculously enormous bed - is pushed against the far wall. Surrounding the large piece of furniture is a collection of thick cushions and pillows of varying sizes, blankets draped here and there. A dresser stands by the opposite wall and a doorway leads to a darkened room you assumed to be the bathroom. Eyebrows drawn in confusion, you look around at them.

“I…I don’t get it.”

“It’s yours,” Cirrus says, stepping forward and taking Swiss’ place at your side. “It’s what we’ve been doing all this time. We can’t bring a mate into the den and not make them a nest.”

She says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but your jaw falls slack and you hear Aether let out a soft laugh.

“Mate?” your voice is comically high pitched as your eyes dart from Mountain to Sunshine to Aurora, perched on the end of the bed.

“If you’ll have us,” Cumulus supplies quickly, “we’re not going to assume but…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You can’t suppress the hurt in your voice and all at once they jump up and crowd around you.

“Love, like Cirrus said, we couldn’t tell you until we made a proper place for you,” Rain says softly, soothingly, “that’s how it’s supposed to be. The pack has to provide for you.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t say anything, though,” Phantom supplies, wringing his hands, “it…it wasn’t right to make you hurt like that. I told the others, but–”

“--But it was better than making you feel like you’ve been strung along. We had to make our intentions perfectly clear by doing this,” Mountain says calmly, gesturing around the room.

“I thought…I thought you didn’t want me anymore. That you didn’t care about me. That you never cared about me. I–” your words break off in a loud sob that has you doubling over on yourself and the ghouls looking anxiously around the room at one another.

“Honey, I’m sorry. We’re so sorry,” Cumulus says as she steps forward to embrace you, “human emotions can be…difficult for us to understand. We’ve never done this before, you know that? We’ve been telling you for so long that you’re special, that you’re perfect. If we didn’t want you we never, ever would have made this for you. You’re the one. You’re the only one for us.”

When you pull back from Cumulus’ arms, uselessly wiping your tears from her shoulder, she cups your face in her palms.

“We adore you. All of us.” The others nod emphatically, all reaching out to touch you in some way. It doesn’t feel real to you, but you drink it in all the same. Gently, you let go of your anger, of your doubt, and allow yourself to be filled with the perfect, aching love that surrounds you in this room.

“Thank you,” you whisper, squeezing Swiss’ hand in your left and Aurora’s in your right. “This is…wow. All for me, huh?”

“All for you,” Sunshine confirms, brushing your hair away from your face. “Does that mean you accept our offer?”

You let them squirm, just a little bit by remaining silent for a few seconds. When the “yes” leaves your lips, the room erupts triumphantly and suddenly your face is being smothered in kisses. When Swiss picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed, you can’t help but laugh, thinking of your first time. The ensuing days of celebration are filled with as much love as lust, your naked form barely allowed to ever leave the bed and always surrounded by the sounds of pleasure. You’re thoroughly exhausted by the end of the third day, abbey duties completely forgotten and body limp in the soft sheets. Gently, so as not to wake your pack, you raise yourself onto your elbows and look around the room. On your right on the bed is Dewdrop, snoring softly, while Cumulus curls up behind you. Phantom has found a spot at the bottom of the bed and Swiss and Aurora are intertwined on a cushion across the room. Cirrus, Sunshine, and Rain sleep soundly in a pile next to them while Aether lies curled into Mountain. You smile as you regard the forms of your lovers - all ten of them, you want to laugh - and lower yourself back down into the pillow. Cumulus stirs and murmurs something into your hair, and you reach a soothing hand back behind you to scratch gently at her scalp. Dew’s eyes open briefly, glowing in the dim light of the room and he gives you a sleepy smile. Leaning over, you place a soft kiss on his forehead and run your thumb along his cheekbone.

And for once in your life, here at the abbey or otherwise, you are at peace, you are held, and you are loved.

~~~

a/n: if you're wondering what happened to sister tamsin well. ghouls get hungry, don't they?

[classicwhatthefuckplotline]

listening to the black books dvd commentaries and oh my god i need this for literally every other sitcom in existence!!! its just the 3 of them doing bits and taking the piss out of each other 💀 (and occasionally mentioning something about the episode). Dylan practically just sits there and points out the jokes they wrote that he thinks were shit 😭😭😭 its absolutely perfect. 10/10 no notes

[bacchanal-if]

Angst! How would the Ros react if after the events of the game and were of course were in love with the mc and in relationship if the mc lost all their memories of the ro, only to fall in love with someone else and not ro again 😭

😭 whyy

Fox:

Lord almighty. At least now they know the MC enough to have a decent amount of confidence in winning them back. They would not be afraid to undermine this other person, but they won't go so far as to manipulate the MC.

Rabbit:

They would be devastated. Utterly devastated. Would definitely try to woo the MC back, and things that just happen to make this other person an unappealing candidate start to happen.

Butterfly:

This other person is in deep, deep trouble. If Butterfly is in love, it's for keeps, and the possessiveness is out of control. There is no end to what they would do to get the MC back.

The Uninvited Guest:

This would be... interesting. They don't need or want love, just loyalty. Feel free to love someone else but do not act on it 😅

Edith/Edward:

That's just too bad for the MC then, isn't it. Suddenly this "love" of theirs is nowhere to be found anymore.

Tamsin/Thomas:

For fuck's sake!

[venussaidso]

who tf do ketu men frequently date? 🧍🏼

so i decided to check the charts of ex/current partners of some selected well known ketu men.

See, Timothee Chalamat having dated Rahu and Jupiter girls kinda validates my theory of Ketu men going for these planetary archetypes. I also see Moon and Mercury nakshatra women.

He dated Shatabhisha ASC, Vishakha Moon Lourdes Leon. Was with Eiza Gonzalez who has Shravana Sun & a possible Purva Bhadrapada Moon. His iconic pairing with Lily Rose Depp who's Rohini Sun & Swati Moon and Vishakha ASC. And finally Kylie Jenner -- Ashlesha Sun, Swati Moon.

Avan Jogia, who is Ashwini Moon, is dating Punarvasu Moon Halsey -- and she also has Hasta Sun AND Swati ASC. He's also dated Zoey Deutch who is a Vishakha Sun. He dated Swati Sun Cleopatra Coleman. He had a thing with Vishakha Moon Miley Cyrus 💀

Ben Barnes, who is Ashwini Moon & Magha Sun, dated Ardra Moon Tamsin Egerton. Then Shatabhisha Moon Felicity Jones. And also Vishakha ASC AND Hasta Moon Julianna Hough.

Possible Magha Moon Robert Sheehan with his long-time girlfriend Revati Sun Sofia Boutella.

Idris Elba's -- who's Magha Moon -- current wife is a Punarvasu Sun AND a Jyestha Moon mwahaha.

Ashwini Moon Benedict Cumberbatch's wife is a Purva Bhadrapada Sun AND Rohini Moon.

Ashwini Moon Michael C. Hall's first wife had Revati Moon, name's Amy Spanger. Then he married Jyestha Sun Jennifer Carpenter who ALSO has Punarvasu Moon and a Hasta ASC.

Ashwini Moon Matt Dillion had dated Vishakha Moon Denise Richards. Also Punarvasu native Cameron Diaz. And I believe his recent partner is Vishakha Moon Roberta Mastromichele. He'd dated Ashlesha ASC, Swati Moon and Shravana Sun Heather Graham.

Magha Moon Paul Wesley was married to Hasta Moon Torrey DeVitto. He was also engaged to Punarvasu native Phoebe Tonkin.

Ashwini Sun Machine Gun Kelly (who also dated Punarvasu native Halsey), was with Ashlesha Moon Megan Fox. Daniel Day Lewis' wife is a Revati Moon. Cilian Murphy, who I also believe to be Ketuvian, is married to a Jyestha Moon woman. Christian Bale's -- who's Ashwini Moon -- wife may have Revati Sun (she may also be Ashwini Sun if she was born past noon).

And Ketu men also go for Ketu women. Justin Trudeau's wife is an Ashwini Sun. Machine Gun Kelly dated Ashwini native Amber Rose.

Ashwini Moon Milo Ventimiglia's wife, Jarah Mariano, is a Jyestha Moon. He's dated Ashwini Moon Alexis Bledel and also Hayden Panettiere who's also an Ashwini Moon with Magha Sun.

Ashwini Moon Boris Kodjoe's wife, Nichole Ari Parker, is a Mula Moon with a Hasta Sun.

Magha Sun Andrew Garfield was with Magha ASC, Swati Sun and Hasta Moon Emma Stone. He also dated Mula Sun Shannon Woodward. He'd been with Ashwini Sun and Vishakha Moon Phoebe Dynevor. Also Ardra Sun Alyssa Miller. He got on with Ashlesha Asc & Purva Bhadrapada Moon Rita Ora too.

Mula Sun, and confirmed Ashwini Moon, Jared Leto, had dated Vishakha Moon Scarlett Johansson. Then Ashley Olsen who is literally a Magha Moon with Ashlesha ASC. He'd been with Punarvasu ASC Cameron Diaz. He was also linked with Ardra Sun Lindsey Lohan. Had an iconic love struck moment with Shatabhisha Sun, Hasta Moon Lupita Nyong'o. I think Valery Kauffman too who's Rohini Sun and Shravana Moon. Reminder that he's a Krittika Asc, he's a Sun nakshatra and my god he's got a running list of hookups I can't deal with right now so Valery is where it ends. It's honestly giving Leonardo DiCaprio lmfao who's also a Sun nakshatra (can't stand solar males💀).

If I stumble on more Ketu men, I'll probably keep editing this post. But there's a pattern here. It's Rahu, Moon, Mercury, Jupiter and Ketu nakshatras that frequently pop up in the women they date. Honorable mentions are Sun and Mars nakshatras. Seriously, I find this fascinating.

[tgmsunmontue]

Saga of Solitude 5/?

Nepo!Baby Bradley and his life at USNA and afterwards. DADT fully in force. IceMav AU. (Begun prior to 'It's not who you know' - the non-angsty version).

PROLOGUE (He remembers)

HANGSTER FIRST MEETING (Lonely Nights - set 2009)

Updating ~weekly (longer chapters).

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS

ONE (2000) TWO (2001) THREE (2002) FOUR (2003)

CHAPTER FIVE – 2004

              He spends three weeks in a submarine and it helps cement his decision to attend flight school, if they accept his application. There is of course the natural competition between everyone, it’s simply how they function, each striving to be better, make those around them better, but also support them and drag them through it if they have to. His third year at USNA wraps up and he’s facing his summer break. The entire year has gone well, no terrorist attacks, although there is definite heightened security since.

              The routine is easy now, he’s an upperclassman, has Natasha and then a smaller circle of people he considers friends, if nothing close to what he has with Natasha. He’s aware that a significant chunk of upperclassmen think that he and Natasha are together, and the one time he checks in with her about whether she’s okay with that she’d just shrugged and said it had stopped the guys expecting her to pay any of them attention. No one asks, and they never correct anyone. When they head out to have leave together no one bats an eye. When they mention having spent some of the previous summer together it’s the same.

              He finds out why Natasha doesn’t talk to her family. Teenage pregnancy. She’d refused to get married to the guy, someone she won’t even tall Bradley the name of, and the shame of either the pregnancy, or their daughter not obeying them, they’d kicked her out. Her application with USNA had already been accepted, her place guaranteed and Bradley doesn’t need to ask to realize what her decision must have been. He briefly feels awful about introducing Tamsin and Petra to her, but she seems to take great joy in chatting to them on the phone and drawing and sending them pictures, so he lets that guilt melt away.

              They’ve both been asked to return to USNA and assist as upperclassmen for Plebe Summer, something he feels immense pride in, glad to have made a good enough impression that he’s being held up as a role model to the new recruits. Of course it makes their leave almost non-existent and they decide to spend it together, which he knows will only fuel rumors that they’re a couple. They go to San Francisco for five days at the start of their leave, and he finally gets to meet Natasha’s sole family member that has anything to do with her, and the way his eyes travel up Bradley’s body leave him blushing furiously. That he’s hot doesn’t help at all.

              “Oh, it is nice to meet you,” Christopher says, shaking his hand and Bradley looks to Natasha with a raised eyebrow and she’s just shaking her head.

              “Nice to meet you too. Bradley.”

              “Mmm. I have heard a lot about you. She didn’t ever mention just how delightful you looked.”

              “Because to me, he isn’t very delightful to look at. There are nicer views.”

              “Hey!” Bradley objects, out of principle more than anything, and Natasha is already cackling and pushing past Christopher with her bags but Christopher is looking at him seriously, completely different to the over-the-top flirtation of a moment ago.

              “Oh my god. You’re…” Christopher makes a limp-wrist gesture which sends Bradley’s eyebrows up in surprise.

              “Uh. Don’t ask don’t tell…” he says, throat tight, wondering where the fuck Natasha has gone.

              “Oh honey, I am not part of your weird cultish military shit. And I wasn’t asking, I was confirming. Holy shit. No wonder Tadpole likes you so much.”

              “Tadpole?”

              “Shut up!” Natasha calls out and Bradley grins.

              “I’ll tell you the story later,” Christopher says, voice low and conspiratory and Bradley nods, hitching his bag over his shoulder. Christopher jerks his head toward where Natasha can be heard grumbling. “Sorry, only got the one guest room. She’s already claimed the bed probably, so you’re on an air mattress.”

              “That’s fine, not the worst place I’ve slept by far.”

              “You’re my guest, I’d like to hope not. I’ll let you guys get settled then we can head out and find some food.”

              He leaves Bradley at the door and Natasha is smirking at him.

              “You couldn’t have told me?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

              “Sorry, his sexuality isn’t exactly something I drop into casual conversation. We’re at USNA remember. Repression is being ingrained into us.”

              “Okay, would you hate me if I asked him out?”

              “No. But his boyfriend might.”

              “Oh. Yeah. Okay.”

              “They can take you clubbing. I’m sure you’ll find ways of enjoying yourself here.”

              She’s right, and she’s smug about it. During the days they do touristy things and just spend time relaxing, occasionally working out. In the evenings Christopher and his boyfriend Patrick take them dancing or clubbing. Natasha comes along once, but then tells them she doesn’t want to sit around getting hit on by anyone so instead either goes to the movies or stays at Christopher’s apartment.

              He’s spent previous weeks on leave in New York, having sex with strangers, but this is a completely different experience. One he’s not going to forget in a hurry. For a start he has never had so much sex in such a short period of time, and it’s good sex, the guys that Christopher sends his way clearly more experienced and keen to give him good experiences or teach him how to give better blow jobs. It’s like each of the guys has undergone a screening process, and when one slips that he’s an ex of Patrick’s he realizes that maybe they have been. He can’t bring himself to care, not when he’ benefitting and enjoying it all.

…           …           …

              They get to Ice’s house and there’s a welcome home party and he can’t believe how big Tamsin and Petra have grown. It’s a vastly different experience to their brief time in San Fransisco but he’s glad they have two weeks and Natasha seems to take her role as surrogate big sister seriously, the four of them watching movies, or lying around with slices of cucumber over their eyes. Sarah snaps a picture of them like that, gets it printed and gives copies to both him and Natasha, along with a pile of other photos she’s taken while they’ve been staying.

              Of course, his birthday comes and he’s twenty-one. Maverick hands over an envelope and a key and he looks at it blankly.

              “What’s this?”

              “The deed to the house. It’s to go to you on your twenty-first birthday.”

              “But… what am I going to do with a house?”

              “Live in it?”

              “But… I’ll be deployed or away…”

              “Bradley, it’s the house your parents bought. What you do with it is up to you. I’d like to still live there of course…”

              “Of course! I mean, if you’re not moving in with Ice, then of course you can stay there. It’s just… nothing has to change right? It’s just a piece of paper?”

              “It’s just a piece of paper. And we’ll help navigate any legal stuff. And we won’t be moving in together any time soon,” Ice states, voice soft, but his expression is sad and Bradley wishes things were different.

…           …           …

              Tom wants to wrap himself around Maverick and never let him go. The amount he’s been away on deployment makes every moment they have together even more precious, and he’s starting to second guess his own rules, even if they’ve kept them both safe. He has two kids and an ex-wife which is a damned good cover, even if his best friend comes and stays frequently. He isn’t telling anyone that doesn’t already know, and no one is asking him, even if they have their suspicions.

              He hates the fact that Pete is now effectively homeless, not that Bradley would ever kick him out of the house, but Tom wants him to have somewhere that is his, and maybe not his alone, but something that would just light Pete up from the inside. The way flying does. He pauses mid-thought and thinks back to a couple of years ago, the Beechcraft and the airstrip, Mav taking Bradley up in the air. Huh. Not a plane, not yet, but there were hangars out there. And a hangar beside an airstrip is probably somewhere Pete would consider living if he thought it was a legitimate option. Not that he himself would want to live beside an airstrip, but this isn’t about him.

              He makes a few calls. Then a few more calls. He’s got to consider leases, and taxes and whether it might just make more sense to rent. He doesn’t want to rent though, wants to make some sort of large gesture and present it as a fait accompli that gives Maverick no wiggle-room to turn it down. He feels pretty confident it wouldn’t be turned away regardless, unless Mav was feeling particularly difficult on the day. Then he gets a call, someone had heard he was looking, and it’s an old Navy hangar, located at the very same airstrip and it feels serendipitous and he agrees to come out and have a look.

…           …           …

              Of course, with how much mentoring he’s doing with the Plebes come the questions, and he remembers his conversation with Ice, a couple of years ago now. When they ask him questions about his parents he simply pulls a face and shakes his head, ignores his own peers, fellow Firsts, who he can see from the corner of his eye who were shaking their heads at the Plebes, trying to stop them from simply asking.

              “My dad was a naval aviator who died in a Top Gun training incident in eighty-six and my mom died of cancer in ninety-four. I was raised by my step-father after that. Any other awkward questions you want answers to?”

              It’s probably why they never ask him or Natasha anything, and another First slaps the Plebe on the back, mutters I tried to warn you off asking but he doesn’t feel upset about it at all. It’s not at all a lie, even if his step-father would be here in a heartbeat if Bradley needed him to be. He knows that both Ice and Mav intend to attend his graduation in formal roles, and while they might night get to acknowledge their roles with each other in such a formal setting he doesn’t care. They want to be there and they’re planning to be there, special leave already requested and granted long ago, considering they’ll be in uniform.

              He and Natasha both work hard, both at their studies and also on their physical fitness. Their applications for flight school were submitted months ago, he really wants to go with her, can’t imagine not going without her. They’re both consistently in the top two or five percent, which he knows bodes well for them. Knows that their involvement with extra curriculars and being friendly with pretty much everyone has them well liked and respected. He just has to be patient and wait.

…           …           …

              They both look at the envelopes, slapping them on empty palms. They look identical, but unlike his USNA acceptance letter, this is a single piece of paper and it could be flight school acceptance, or a decline.

              “On the count of three?” Natasha asks and Bradley admires her courage.

              “Yeah. Three.”

              They rip them open.

…           …           …

              “I knew it!” Maverick screams, his joy palpable through the phone for their Saturday afternoon call. “Ice! Ice! He got in! Hold on, let me put you on speaker…”

              “Of course he did… well done Bradley. Congratulations.”

              He blows out a long breath, because he’s glad they have seemingly unshakeable confidence in his abilities. God, he never wants to disappoint them.

              “Thanks. Natasha got in as well.”

              “She’s a very capable young woman. Proud of you both. Please pass that on to her.”

              “Yeah, thanks. I will.”

              “Yeah, we’re both very proud. You can go back to work now. I’m going to go outside and talk to my godson…”

              He hears Ice mutter something in the background, not clear enough to make out, but then Mav is telling him off for rolling his eyes and he can just imagine what he said, the gentle laughter between them and he can’t help but smile.

              “So. did Ice tell you he bought me a hangar?”

              “He did what?” Bradley asks, because such a move seems like something Mav would make, rather than Ice.

              “He bought me a hangar. Said that I was obviously always welcome wherever he was, but that he knew I needed my own place and that I now had a space for the plane I’ve been eyeing up.”

              “You’ve been eying up a plane? Wait. A hangar. For you to live in? What about the house? You aren’t moving out are you?”

              “No. Of course not. But I’m going to be there as often as you are, probably less considering Ice has become a lot more, uh, relaxed about his stupid sleepover rules. The hangar isn’t currently habitable anyway. But there’s this P-51 Mustang I’ve been looking at. It’s beautiful.”

              “He proposed to you with an aircraft hangar. Oh my god, that’s so… romantic and practical of him.”

              “He didn’t propose.”

              “Mav. If a guy bought me an aircraft hangar what would you think about the guy?”

              “That he was crazy in love with you, and utterly committed… oh shit. I’ll call you back.”

              He is not surprised when he doesn’t get called back.

…           …           …

              He hadn’t expected it.

              They hadn’t warned him.

              The emotions of the day, coupled with the fact that they’d asked every single member of the 1986 Top Gun class there, along with a few other friends of both his parents. He clearly has the biggest cheering section and he feels like a mess inside, although outwardly he’s all smiles and calm togetherness. Four years of training helps with that at least. Ice and Mav are both up on the stage, part of the VIP section, along with several others who are still serving, and he recognizes them from his birthday a couple of years ago.

              “Did you know they were all going to be here?” Natasha asks, and he shakes his head, throat working against the tightness of his collar.

              There are photos, Ice agreeing to so many photos with newly minted graduates and Bradley lets them all go, fights his way through the crowds to find Mav. He and Ice can stage photos later, there will always be times when they’re in uniform. Just the fact that they’re here is more than enough and he’s so happy that he has had them supporting him every step of the way.

              “Captain Mitchell.”

              “Midshipman Bradshaw. Congratulations. Your father would be very proud. I flew with him you know?”

              Bradley blinks.

              Blinks again.

              Hopes his internal dialogue somehow is being telepathically beamed into Mav’s head.

              You are such a dick. Hopefully his expression does enough to convey his exasperation.

              “Really? I didn’t know that sir.”

              Mav gives him a shit-eating grin and Bradley wishes Ice were there to hit him around the head. Not that he would, not in this setting, but damn he sees why he’s always so tempted.

              “I’m going to have a photo with all the graduates who are going to be heading off to Corpus Christi for flight school. I think they want us over there.”

              It’s chaos. Positive and energetic happiness with everyone feeling the sense that they’re about to begin their careers, that they’ve made it through what is meant to be the hardest part, even if Bradley secretly thinks flight school might be even more challenging, it’s only for eighteen months. He manages to get photos with Maverick, Natasha and Ice and nearly every available combination. Then there are photos with the 1986 class, and he ignores the fact that several of the other men seem to shed a tear.

              Then it’s dispersing, the crowd thinning and families are gathering, taking more photos and he can see Sarah pushing through, the hands of Tamsin and Petra clasped and he grins, starts heading toward them, already thinking that Tamsin has grown a couple of inches, can see both his sisters pulling Sarah toward them before she decides to let them go.

              “Natasha! Natasha!” Petra screams, and she’s running across the quad, hair streaming behind her with gold and navy ribbons mixed in, running past him and Natasha is grinning broadly, bending down to swoop Petra up in a hug. Bradley stands back up from where he’d been just about to scoop her up himself before she’d breezed past him.

              “Wow,” he says to Sarah as she comes to a stop to stand beside him.

              “Hurts doesn’t it?” Sarah says, not really asking and Bradley nods, murmuring a quiet yeah under his breath. He doesn’t begrudge Natasha the joy and love of his sisters, love isn’t in finite supply, it’s just a little hurtful to not even warrant a hello. He has to remind himself that Petra is only seven.

              “I love you Bradley,” Tamsin says, arms coming around his waist to give him a hug, as if she can tell how he’s feeling and he hugs her back.

              “Love you too Tam.”

              “You’re dressed up all fancy like Daddy and Papa.”

              “Yeah. You look pretty fancy in your dress too. Is that new?”

              “Yep. Mom bought is especially for today!”

              “We can look fancy together.”

              “Congratulations Bradley, we’re all very proud of you.”

              “Thanks.”

              “Are you proud of me? I go to school too,” Tamsin says, and Sarah looks heavenward and Bradley wonders if she’s been fielding questions like this for a while.

              “I’m proud of you, going to school can be really hard work somedays,” Bradley says.            

              “Daddy!” Tamsin says, and then Ice is there, pressing his cheek against Sarah’s in greeting and nodding at Bradley again.

              “Bradley! Up!” Petra demands, appearing at his side and Natasha is grinning.

              “Hello to you too Miss Petra, happy to be of service.”

              There are a few people doing a double take as they see who he is standing with, who he is clearly family with, but he cares less now. He’s finished here, no one can claim he played any favoritism card. He knows flight school will be different, wants to be in the air as soon as possible.

              He can’t wait.

CHAPTER SIX (2005)

[thegrimalldis]

A Series of Random Moments - Ingrid's Blind Date [Part 1]

Transcript under the script

[Waiter]: Right this way.

[Matteo]: I hope you like Windasian cuisine.

[Ingrid]: I don't think I've ever tried it.

[Matteo]: Tamsin set up the reservation. I guess she thought we both might like it.

[Ingrid]: She uh...she sure planned this date well.

[Matteo, chuckling awkwardly]: Yeah...

-

[Laurence]: What?

[Ingrid]: I need you to do me the biggest favor.

[Laurence]: What favor?

[Ingrid]: I need you to call me back in ten minutes and say there's an emergency.

[Laurence]: Aren't you on a blind date?

[Ingrid]: It's going terrible, Laurie. Absolutely terrible.

[Laurence]: I mean how bad can it be?

[Ingrid]: I may have started crying when he mentioned Ziggy and now I'm just...

[Laurence]: Oh my god Ingrid! Stop. You're giving me a headache already.

[Ingrid]: Please just call me back in ten minutes and never mention this conversation ever again.

[Laurence]: Fine, I'll call you. Just so you can stop talking.

-

[Matteo]: There you are! I want you to meet someone. This is Jacob, he's the midfielder for the Monacan Wolves. Jacob, this is Her Highness...

[Jacob]: Ingrid.

[Ingrid]: Jacob.

[Matteo]: You know each other?

[Jacob]: Somewhat. It's good to see you again.

[Ingrid]: You too.

[Jacob]: Well, I have some friends waiting for me. I'll leave you both to your...dinner.