#hate you pete

[qcomicsy]

the fact that Peter knows what a dating sim is very telling too

Gwen Poole has canonically played Monster Girl Quest

[cowardlykrow]

“Not my circus, not my monkeys”… Except those are his monkeys and they are the circus

[judasisgayriot]

is that what Patrick always says. is it Pete.

[thehalfbloodfreak]

Cal will be like: “We both know what happens when I stay in one place too long” Gotta keep that low profile so the Empire doesn’t find us—

Also Cal to every stranger he sees: Hi I’m Cal Kestis. Oh and this is BD-1

[futazolam]

Pete posted another live photo of himself apparently taken by Patrick (cos YOU CAN HEAR HIM GIGGLING!!!)

[s1ushyz]

Joe trohman, my dream girl

[viccharine]

dance dance! we’re falling apart to halftime!

(reblogs greatly appreciated!!!!)

EDIT: this is now available as a print in my ko-fi shop! link here [x]

alternate versions and commentary under the cut!

about the piece: this is my first time ever attempting to draw a back—and LET ME TELL YOU. I STRUGGLED. took me a solid 2 hours to figure it out—even then I had to go physically put down the iPad and go on a walk three separate times because I was so frustrated. the things I do to make fob fanart. if you’re confused by the pose, I originally meant for the figure to be laying down, but now it’s more intended to be as though the figure is leaning on something (most likely the headboard of a bed????)—although, the pose was kind of an afterthought as I really just needed to make a lot of space to add in the text (which, as always, is hand lettered except for the “dance dance, fall out boy”)

about the song: dance dance is one of my favorite fall out boy songs, if not my favorite fob song, but I think it’s important to acknowledge the slightly misogynistic undertones of the song. im not saying that the song is misogynistic, nor that fall out boy is misogynistic, but rather that the song was released in 2005 and as a society, we’ve grown in terms of how we speak about women in pop culture. a lot of media, specifically songs from the 2000s (ESPECIALLY emo songs, im looking at you “I write sins”) had this kind of borderline misogynistic tone that is not in any way okay (Im not trying to justify it!!) but was unfortunately normalized.

as an afab person, I love this song, I love this LINE specifically (“why don’t you show me the little bit of spine you’ve been saving for his mattress, love?” goes SO HARD for me), and I think my immense enjoyment of the song doesn’t prevent me from talking about how it fits into misogynistic culture (esp of the 2000s) and it does not mean i accept it

(but also, I don’t really listen to the lyrics of the song anyway—everyone say thank you to Patrick Stump’s enunciation)

anyway that’s it k byeeeeeee (and go stream fall out boy!)

p.s. I forgot to add my watermark so for the sake of me not wanting to go back and edit it in pls don’t repost with credit please and thank yew ?????

[stpansy]

the insane thing about pete saying patrick is made up of kittens, saturdays, first kisses etc on the public internet in front of millions in 2006 is that he was talking about a man who chokeslammed him against their van, kicked him in the balls, and regularly assaulted him with fists like the world’s most talented human gremlin just for being annoying. and then continued to do that for ten or more years. what i’m saying is true love

[the-ace-with-spades]

This is related to one of my fic ideas, but all you need to know is that Bradley and Jake have four kids that Mav didn't know about until he saw them all together first day in the Hard Deck because he and Bradley haven't been talking

When they come back from the mission, they don't talk talk for a while, there's so much happening in the med bay and then Jake, Bradley's husband Mav hadn't even known existed three weeks ago, is always with him.

Then Ice is in the hospital, still, and Bradley comes to visit but they don't really talk either. They don't ask about the kids, but Bradley himself volunteers that they wouldn't be able to visit the hospital anyway because children are not allowed on the wards.

Finally, Ice comes home and Bradley and Mav talk.

And then, the next afternoon, Bradley comes with their two youngest, a seventeen-month-old baby boy called PJ and two a half-year-old girl named Ronnie. And they each get to hold a baby.

It's something else.

The babies are cute enough that Mav can almost ignore they're half Hangman.

The real surprise, though, is the twins.

Tommy and Nicky (no, Mav is not jealous that all Bradley's father figures but him have a kid named after them, not a lot, anyway, he gets that Bradley was really angry with him) are almost six, identical to the smallest detail, clothes and hairstyles included, and somehow Bradley, Hangman and Jake's mom (who takes care of the kids when the boys work) still can tell them apart.

They are loud and bouncy and so energetic and yet, the minute Bradley walks them through his front door, both the girls both hide behind Hangman's — their other dad, his Bradley's husband, Mav still can't get over it — legs, so shy.

And Mav haven't been around kids in so long, he doesn't know what to do.

And it takes a minute but eventually one of them — he really can't tell them apart — asks, 'who is that?' and Bradley wriggles her onto his knee and pointing a bit at Mav, says, "This is your grandpa, baby. you think you can try saying hi?"

And Mav, no matter how hard he tries, can't blink away the tears.

Because it only settled just now — that this all means, Bradley forgiving him, talking to them again, inviting them to his house, introducing them to his family, to his kids; this all means Mav is a grandpa.

(Mav cries again, weeks later, when he finds out PJ stands for Peter Jacob — even though he still can't believe Jacob 'Hangman' Seresin is the other father of his grandchildren and his son-in-law.)

[mitchellpete]

Kinktober Day 6 - Cockwarming

pairing: pete “maverick” mitchell x f!reader

cw: instructor!mav, student x teacher relationship, power imbalance, angst if you squint?, age gap, office sex, oral sex (m receiving), penetration, cockwarming

word count: 1875

kinktober masterlist here.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

-

It takes Maverick about a minute to notice you standing in the doorway to his office. He’s swamped with paperwork, his pen nearly running out of ink at the scrabbling he’s been doing the past couple of hours. It seems you’d both ended up with irritable days, hence the reason you found yourself here in the first place.

It was late, thank God, and no one was really around anymore and you really didn’t feel like leaving base and spending the rest of the evening sulking alone at home. You knew that Captain Mitchell was staying in late, knew that if you didn’t wander in to see him, you might not see him at all over the next couple of days.

It was a bad habit he had. He gave you too much space. 

“Lieutenant,” he greets you now, a small smile curving the end of his mouth at the sight of you.

You ignore his propriety, stepping inside and shutting the door behind you. You try to match his smile. “Hi, Mav.”

He immediately drops the act. Eyes darting from you to the closed door, he asks in a hushed voice, “What are you doing?” 

You approach his desk, your failed smile replaced by a frown. You want to hug him. You want him to hug you, you mean. To make it all better. You’re not sure how to ask for that, though.

“Just wanted to see you,” you say instead, curious hands reaching for the objects on his desk. 

He doesn’t break eye contact as he takes each object from your hands, placing them back in their spot as you move them. “I’ve got a lot of work to do, sweetheart.”

Your heart sinks a little at the rejection, and he seems to notice the disappointment cross your face. 

“Come here,” he says then, beckoning you over with a single nod.

You step behind the desk and into his space, leaning down to meet him for a kiss. It’s risky; you didn’t lock the door and the blinds aren’t fully shut, but the kiss lasts maybe two seconds. It’s fine.

Mav smiles and looks up at you with a soft glint in his eyes, the one that reads I’ll see you soon, okay? It’s the look he gives you every time he sneaks out of your house, or drops you off. You’ve started to dread it. There’s so much uncertainty that comes with it. Every single time you see him after that affectionate look, he’s just your instructor again. The affection is gone and you’re never sure when it’ll return. It doesn’t matter how much you ache for him. 

Boy, how badly you ache for him now. A kiss is never enough.

You’re almost going to swallow your pride and leave his office, seemingly satisfied with the one little kiss, until your eyes land on his lap. Then at his paperwork, then at the door.

He cocks an eyebrow, curious.

Fuck. You slowly stride over to the door, battling with your choices, but decide you have no intention of leaving. 

“Wh–” Maverick sits up straight at the sound of the door locking, and then watches as you move towards the windows to start shutting the blinds all the way. “What are you doing?”

“I wanna try something,” you say confidently, like he already gave you permission.

“Try something?”

“Mhm.” You shut the last set, take a step back to make sure they’re all closed and then turn your attention to him again. “Blinds shut, door locked. I think you’ve left for the day.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but nothing comes out. He drops his pen instead, tilting his head as he tries to figure out what it is you’re planning.

He sort of gets an idea when he notices your eyes scanning his side of the desk.

“Baby, I do have a lot of work to do.”

You smile. “And if I promise you won’t get your hands dirty? At all?”

Mav chuckles, shakes his head like it’s the most absurd idea he’s ever heard. It might be, you think, but it’s something you can pull off. The door is locked, after all.

“I think we’d be really stupid if we tried,” he admits, though his smile doesn’t falter.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reiterate. “I just want to sit there. You can continue working.”

It’s like he opens his mouth to protest again, but then his lips press together instead, and he beckons you toward him with a nod like before.

Excitement fills you as he scoots his chair back to grant you access.

It’s hard to get on your knees in the cramped space underneath the desk, so you have to urge Mav to move his chair back with a gentle push to his legs. He complies, does his best to make as much room for you as he can. You find that you’re sort of shaky when your fingers pry at the button on his jeans, so he helps you with that, too. The position is slightly ridiculous, the chair a little higher than it should be, so you end up on your haunches when you pull his cock out of his briefs, and then sort of yank his garments down with your other hand for easier access. 

His eyes are still nervously peering at the closed blinds, making sure there aren’t any shapes or sounds coming from behind them, but you ease his worries when you take his shaft into your mouth. There’s no time to prolong this, so you get right to it; you take him in as much as you can, using a hand to stroke him at the same time. His knuckles are white from gripping the arms of his chair as he hardens in your mouth. Stifled groans leave his lips, filthy wet ones coming from yours. 

He throws his head back in silent satisfaction when you swirl your tongue around the tip, and accidentally groans out loud when you dip your head and trace your tongue down, and then back up his frenulum.

The noise he makes reminds you that you’re not supposed to make him cum here, that this is something different, and you pull back after a minute or so. Maverick is biting down hard on his lip, watches as you stand up off your haunches and immediately work your pants off. He shifts in his seat, positions himself as best he can for you.

With your pants completely off and kicked aside, you grab onto his shoulders and mount yourself atop his lap. Hovering above him, you reach down to grab him and line yourself up with him the best you can; usually he would do that for you but you did promise he wouldn’t have to get his hands dirty. 

“No moving,” you prompt, exhaling softly at the feel of his tip against your slit.

You whimper at the stretch—it stings just a little from lack of foreplay—but gradually sink onto him little by little. You let your body accommodate him, feel yourself growing wetter around him before you sink any lower. He tenses up, tries to minimize his reaction by gritting his teeth. The long groan that leaves his mouth is inevitable when you fully slip onto his lap, his cock buried inside you to the hilt. Christ, this is gonna be harder than you thought.

He seems to think so too, as his grip around your waist tightens slightly. “Sweetheart, I don’t—I don’t think this is such a good idea,” he groans.

“Just get back to work,” you whisper, arms wrapping around his shoulders.

His hands leave your waist to resume his task, but his breathing remains heavy near your ear. You relax into him, face buried in the crook of his neck, breathing him in. You’ve got your hug. This is all you wanted today.

Maverick scoots his chair forward as best he can, picks up his pen and shuffles through his papers. 

You try not to clench around him, a very difficult problem when he scoots forward slightly a second time, his balls rubbing up into your clit. You try to focus on something else, on his scent, past him at the frames on the wall, on the bits of light coming in through the blinds.

A minute passes.

Two minutes pass.

Three, and Mav still hasn’t touched pen to paper yet, clearly dazed by the situation. His eyes skim over the words he’s already written instead, trying to give his brain an idea on where to get started again. 

He wants to move very badly. It’s a terrible itch he needs to scratch.

He starts to think that this is maybe a form of torture. You try not to think much of it, try to pretend this is the hug you were here for, and it sort of works. Sort of. His cock prods at a very delicious spot inside you the more he begins to shift his hips, and it becomes harder and harder to stay still.

It’s when you hear his pen drop and roll across the desk that you realize Maverick is not so fond of your idea. Get back to work how, he must be thinking, and God, you hope he’s not frustrated that this whole ordeal probably just set him back. 

If he is, he doesn’t show it, instead wrapping his arms around you and inadvertently rolling his hips underneath you. You gasp, taken by sudden surprise, clasping a hand over your mouth when his hips jerk a second time.

“Mav,” you whisper. “I said—fuck, I said no moving.”

He scoffs, bows his head to lazily kiss at your collarbone. “You’re killing me. I’ll never go back to work like this.”

You bite back a moan. “I promised you wouldn’t get your hands dirty. I just wanted to sit he–”

He shuts you up with a sharp, fully intended snap of his hips. His arms drop to cup the bottom of your thighs, and neither of you care anymore after the first stroke. The sound of skin meeting skin fills the room and it’s hard not to make any additional noise, suppressing your moans into little whines instead. Maverick starts fucking into you as if it were the first time, as if he’d never felt something so good before. 

Neither of you last very long.

Maverick’s thrusts get sloppy when you’re both seconds away, his tiring pace beginning to stumble. He’s smart enough to take you in for a deep kiss when you both cum at the same time, your quiet, high-pitched noises trapped in between your mouths. He continues kissing you through your unplanned orgasm, tongue licking against yours.

When he pulls back, you’re both panting heavily, savoring the glow. 

He helps you off of him eventually. Your legs are a little sore and shaky, and you clumsily stumble back against his desk. Maverick’s good reflexes prevent your fall, an arm around your waist, and you avoid landing on his messy stack of paperwork. You can’t help but snicker at how absurd this really was.

Maverick, on the other hand, has a smirk on his face at the sight of you propped over his desk.

[katewritesss]

"When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night with your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife. And when you think about me, all of those years ago, you're standing face to face with 'I told you so.' You know I hate to say 'I told you so.' You know I hate to say, but, I told you so."

[pilotduty]

had a lovely convo abt patricks support of trans folks yesterday and felt compelled 2 draw something abt it

[cowardlykrow]

Brother bonding(?)

[tropical-fruit-mx]

meme from the other night courtesy of @sansmelatonin

[unlawfulchaos]

Ice: Hey kiddo, breakfast is ready.

Baby Bradley: Thanks. Should I give the old bitch some, too? I think he's upstairs.

Ice: We've already talked about this. Slider called Mav that ONCE in the heat of an argument and you are NOT supposed to repeat it.

Ice: Also, yes.

[halfdeadwallfly]