#its more just. i WANT to ramble and do stuff

[rebelliousstories]

Date Night

ValenFics

Relationship: Robert “Bob” Floyd x Reader

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 823

Main Masterlist: Here

Top Gun: Maverick Masterlist: Here

Summary: Finally, coming home after a long day away, all Bob wants is the simple things in life.

Consider Donating: Here

“Goodnight, Phoenix. See you tomorrow.” The bespectacled man called to his front seater, waving vaguely behind him as he headed for the showers. He could hear her own farewell, but just barely. For now, he was focused on getting home to his lovely wife.

While the room temperature water rushed over him, all he could think about was going home. It had been a long, long day. Bob had been stuck in the cockpit of his jet with Phoenix for close to fifteen hours now. Sure they had breaks, but if they were not running drills, they were fixing it up. Tinkering away with the toggles or tightening up the engine. And then, they were back up in the air. Back and forth, back and forth the entire day.

Taking his ring off of his dog tags, Robert felt a wave of relief as he slipped it back onto its designated spot. He had contemplated getting a tattoo of her initial on his ring finger where the ring would sit, but doing the paperwork for a visible tattoo on his skin was a great deterrent.

Still, slinging his bag into the backseat of his truck, he was excited to finally be going home. The drive back was filled with the sounds of the radio. It was on some random vintage radio that played stuff from the 60’s and 70’s, but Bob was not paying too much attention. Not when he was just focused on getting home, eating whatever she made for dinner that he would have to reheat, and then slipping into bed next to her.

Drumming along to a mindless beat, Bob pulled into the driveway of his house just off base. But instead of seeing the lights off, they were on. It was already 8:45 at night. So why was she still up? Confused, he grabbed his duffle from the backseat and went to enter the home. The second he stepped in the door, Robert was blown away.

Instead of the lightbulbs overhead lighting up the space, the glow of dozens of candles illuminated the living room, the dining room, and down the hallway. However, he did not see his wife quite yet. Bob called her name out, only to hear a faint, “I’m here,” coming from their bedroom. His duffle bag was left by the front door, which he knew was going to get him a talking to later.

If he thought that the front of the house was stunning, that was nothing compared to the scene in the bedroom. A spotless bedroom, and candles everywhere. Smooth vintage jazz was coming from the bathroom. But still, no wife.

“Darling?” He called one more time, making sure he was in the right place.

“Bathroom, Bobby.” The pilot made his way through the door to see his wife smiling and giggling with excitement. More candles, to the point where Bob wondered where she was keeping all of these. There was a steaming hot bath drawn, low light and music; it was almost too much for him to take.

“What’s all this?” Bob asked, looking around the room but reaching his hands to grab her by the waist.

“Well, I figured you’d be tired by the time you came home from work. So, I thought I’d take care of you tonight instead.” Her hands came up and traced through the hairs at the back of his neck.

“Why? What brought this on?” Instead of getting upset that he did not remember, Mrs. Floyd just chuckled.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, silly. But-” Robert groaned. His head fell forward as he thought about it.

“I’m sorry, honey. I just… we’e been running drills and I totally forgot to get you your gift-” he rambled, but a kiss to his lips silenced him.

“It’s fine, Bobby. There’s a reason I said I’m taking care of you. I know what your schedule has been lately. So we’re going to take a bath, then I’m gonna feed you. And then, we’re going to bed.”

With a sigh of relief, Bob dropped his head to her chest. “That sounds lovely, honey.”

Before he knew it, Robert was inside the warmth of the water. His wife was behind him, massaging his shoulders and making him feel like he was in heaven. She massaged his scalp, scrubbing the shampoo in. He did not really know what the point was of double cleansing his scalp, or putting a deep conditioning mask on while she turned her attention back to his body, but there was no way in hell Bob was going to say anything to make her stop.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I forgot,” came his whisper, pressing a kiss to her wrist.

“Don’t need to thank me, Bobby,” she replied. A kiss was left on the back of his neck, right at the top near his spine. “You take care of me, and now I need to take care of you.”

“Goodnight, Phoenix. See you tomorrow.” The bespectacled man called to his front seater, waving vaguely behind him as he headed for the showers. He could hear her own farewell, but just barely. For now, he was focused on getting home to his lovely wife.

While the room temperature water rushed over him, all he could think about was going home. It had been a long, long day. Bob had been stuck in the cockpit of his jet with Phoenix for close to fifteen hours now. Sure they had breaks, but if they were not running drills, they were fixing it up. Tinkering away with the toggles or tightening up the engine. And then, they were back up in the air. Back and forth, back and forth the entire day.

Taking his ring off of his dog tags, Robert felt a wave of relief as he slipped it back onto its designated spot. He had contemplated getting a tattoo of her initial on his ring finger where the ring would sit, but doing the paperwork for a visible tattoo on his skin was a great deterrent.

Still, slinging his bag into the backseat of his truck, he was excited to finally be going home. The drive back was filled with the sounds of the radio. It was on some random vintage radio that played stuff from the 60’s and 70’s, but Bob was not paying too much attention. Not when he was just focused on getting home, eating whatever she made for dinner that he would have to reheat, and then slipping into bed next to her.

Drumming along to a mindless beat, Bob pulled into the driveway of his house just off base. But instead of seeing the lights off, they were on. It was already 8:45 at night. So why was she still up? Confused, he grabbed his duffle from the backseat and went to enter the home. The second he stepped in the door, Robert was blown away.

Instead of the lightbulbs overhead lighting up the space, the glow of dozens of candles illuminated the living room, the dining room, and down the hallway. However, he did not see his wife quite yet. Bob called her name out, only to hear a faint, “I’m here,” coming from their bedroom. His duffle bag was left by the front door, which he knew was going to get him a talking to later.

If he thought that the front of the house was stunning, that was nothing compared to the scene in the bedroom. A spotless bedroom, and candles everywhere. Smooth vintage jazz was coming from the bathroom. But still, no wife.

“Darling?” He called one more time, making sure he was in the right place.

“Bathroom, Bobby.” The pilot made his way through the door to see his wife smiling and giggling with excitement. More candles, to the point where Bob wondered where she was keeping all of these. There was a steaming hot bath drawn, low light and music; it was almost too much for him to take.

“What’s all this?” Bob asked, looking around the room but reaching his hands to grab her by the waist.

“Well, I figured you’d be tired by the time you came home from work. So, I thought I’d take care of you tonight instead.” Her hands came up and traced through the hairs at the back of his neck.

“Why? What brought this on?” Instead of getting upset that he did not remember, Mrs. Floyd just chuckled.

“It’s Valentine’s Day, silly. But-” Robert groaned. His head fell forward as he thought about it.

“I’m sorry, honey. I just… we’e been running drills and I totally forgot to get you your gift-” he rambled, but a kiss to his lips silenced him.

“It’s fine, Bobby. There’s a reason I said I’m taking care of you. I know what your schedule has been lately. So we’re going to take a bath, then I’m gonna feed you. And then, we’re going to bed.”

With a sigh of relief, Bob dropped his head to her chest. “That sounds lovely, honey.”

Before he knew it, Robert was inside the warmth of the water. His wife was behind him, massaging his shoulders and making him feel like he was in heaven. She massaged his scalp, scrubbing the shampoo in. He did not really know what the point was of double cleansing his scalp, or putting a deep conditioning mask on while she turned her attention back to his body, but there was no way in hell Bob was going to say anything to make her stop.

“Thank you. I’m sorry I forgot,” came his whisper, pressing a kiss to her wrist.

“Don’t need to thank me, Bobby,” she replied. A kiss was left on the back of his neck, right at the top near his spine. “You take care of me, and now I need to take care of you.”

[lunar-fey]

strattera update: hot.

[andrewknightley]

saw someone saying something like "do you really think veilguard story would be better if you could do evil choices?" and actually yeah. i think if they let us act more like the dreadwolf on the "you are a paralellism to the dreadwolf" game, it would be more significant when the story tells you "you are a bit like him/you are nothing like him" because , thats how you chosed to play it.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

🧙‍♀️🐈‍⬛

[kagoutiss]

as if it was never there at all.

[bunnieswithknives]

how do you think Fiyero’s scarecrow-ification went? Like on his POV of things

It was like being set on fire from the inside out. ♥

He wasn't particularly conscious, he'd lost a lot of blood beforehand, even outside of the amnesia au I doubt he'd really remember it. maybe just the impressions of green and burning. He was already in so much pain that at first he didn't even recognize what was happening, his broken ribs and bleeding guts indistinguishable from the sparks spreading somewhere deep inside him, his barely conscious brain only fixated on the single thought that he was going to die soon, and it would be alone.

It wasn't until the spell ate his lungs into straw that he started to thrash, a weak and exhausted visceral reaction as his throat spasmed for air, only to find more straw in his mouth instead. Straw sprouted out through the gashes in his skin and where broken bone met air as the fire began to creep outward, eating away at skin and leaving something unfamiliar in its wake, burning away everything else. Inescapable fire was eating him alive and spitting out a mockery of his body until finally, whatever part that tells him he needs to breath is eaten too, and the relief is so absolute that he passes out.

+ bonus version without the fire so you can actually see him

[lilaccatholic]

Probably SUCH an unpopular opinion except in my little corner of the world, but BOY would Bridgerton so be my thing if it weren't for all the sex scenes

[skullsandcorals]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @apiratefellinlovewithastar 🤭💜💜💜 !!!!

I hope you like it ;)

(click for better quality if you're on the mobile app. do not repost.)

[natsmagi]

easter is coming up guys u know what that fucking means!!!!!!!!

PLAYBOY BUNNY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[shokupanda]

me when time moves forward at a steady pace: how the fuck is it more than halfway through july already. this fuckers rapidly sprinting when im not looking huh

[randomwords247]

Cooking and baking

A small pet peeve of mine with cooking and baking is when recipes say the container rather than the amount

Like, instead of saying "500ml of cream" you say "a pot of cream". Or "a whole can of corn". Like okay which kind of can??? What amount???? Corn comes in more than one size you can't just tell me a can. PLEASE i am begging you tell me the WEIGHT

This is especially a problem with recipes from different countries, for example America. Because your stick of butter is different to our butter. STOP SAYING STICK OF BUTTER TELL ME THE QUANTITY IN GRAMS PLEASE I HAVE A FAMILY

that being said I feel like I see this crop up in like american recipes in particular. Idk if I've ever seen a recipe in one of our cookbooks that does this....

anyway please just tell me the gosh darn weight I am dying here I have a family I JUST NEED TO KNOW THE WEIGHT

[xxplastic-cubexx]

just read the new mutants issue where Charles chose to stay behind in space and my god the juxtaposition between Charles trusting Erik and Erik joining the hellfire club and wondering at his own trust worthiness. I wonder how much of Charles decision was him ultimately trying to avoid the fact that his first class had seemingly betrayed mutant kind and not be willing to face them and how much of it was Dani and Illyana's reaction to him having Karma mind control Illyana. the fact that Illyana was depending on him to ease her mind through limbo and in choosing to stay he forced karma to do it instead, probably fucking up their relationship in the process.

I love him, this is crazy, how much of this is him trying to runaway and how much is this him not trusting himself to fix things and how much is it just him trusting Erik?

i keep trying to put into words my exact thoughts about the sitch but there really is a lot for one issue aintit... oh charles you and your brain...

[forgetfulmachineart]

[ID: Teen Gojo pouting and crying shiny tears. He's resting his chin on is arm on a desk and his circular glasses are in his hands. Some of the star tears float off and some drip down his face. /End ID]

⭐ Star Boy ⭐

[ducktracy]

reminder that if you're not watching Crayon Shin-chan then you are living a hollow and empty life. this is not edited. this ripped straight from the movie (Movie 8: Jungle That Invites the Storm, highly recommend for fellow Masaaki Yuasa lovers)

if you need further convincing: these monkeys run an animation sweatshop

[itz-pandora]

I don't think I'll be doing any more drawings tonight, but I'll try to get more done tomorrow!

[insufferablemod]

probably wont be posting much for the rest of the month or so o7