L O L A

top gun: maverick | original screenplay

tagged by @welcometololaland and @cha-melodius

one of the only other bits of the For Boston College!AU that @cecilyv and I are pretending will be light and easy and vignett-y that's actually got sentences and not just vibes.

In October Marley knocks on his door, says "Get up loser, we're going apple picking." He says, "What?" but follows Marley out because he doesn't have anything better to do.  “We are doing work on our day off?" They drive an hour out of the city and they are surrounded by fields. It is very .... rural.  "And now what?" he asks. Marley hands him a bag. "Now we pick apples." He follows, a little bemused, a little hungover from last night. Picks an apple and bites into it. Holds his bag to Marley to fill when he fills his own. "What are we going to do with this many apples?" "Mom always made pie. And apple butter." “We do not have kitchen,” he points out. Marley shrugs.  “So, we’ll eat them.  Or maybe take them home and see if Mom’s feeling generous.”  Looks at Ilya curiously.  "You don't do this in Russia?" "Maybe? Not in Moscow." In Moscow if they'd driven an hour they'd still be in the suburbs, not in a place with cows and chickens. He can't decide if it's charming or concerning.

Thanks for tagging me @carlos-in-glasses! This week, another snippet from Dallas Carlos, which I'm in the home stretch of (...I think).

He can’t hide in the ensuite all night. With the towel TK folded, Carlos mops up the stray drops of water around the basins and then leaves the bathroom, flicking the light off on his way out. It leaves the bedroom outlined in the dim light of the waning moon. TK’s already in bed, turned away towards the wall, his shoulders a tense line at the edge of the blankets that say he doesn’t want to be touched.

Carlos slides into the bed carefully. He can tell that TK isn’t asleep yet, but he still doesn’t want to disturb him. On his back, staring up at the ceiling, the empty stretch of sheets between them feel like a chasm.

“I love you,” he murmurs into the dark, because it deserves to be said, even when they’re fighting. Maybe especially then.

TK lets out a small, resigned sigh. “I know you do.” There’s a pause in which Carlos swears his heart stops, and then, so quiet he almost can’t hear it, “I love you too.”

On another bonkersly hot summer Wednesday, please have these cuties in a heatwave of their own (chapter 1 coming soon):

It takes a while for Jonah to drift off tonight. It’s too hot. The crickets are loud. Fireflies pass by the window like tiny spaceships seeking a warm world to land on. And it’s not a school night. And tomorrow isn’t going to be a regular Saturday because they’re going on a night out, and and and and…

Jonah is talking through all the ands with TK when his droopy eyes finally close.

TK slips his hand free from both of Jonah’s, kisses him on the forehead, and sneaks out of the room. He creeps all the way along the hallway, avoids the tattle-tale floorboards, and dips into his own lamplit bedroom.

Here, TK finds his husband lying stark naked. He’s sideways across the bed, eyes closed and head practically lolling off the mattress on TK’s side. The ceiling fan rotates with soft swishes right above him.

“Mmm,” Carlos hums pleasantly. He lifts his flaccid penis to get more air to his sack.

“You okay, there?” TK whisper-laughs. He wanders over to his side of the bed to loom over Carlos’ face.

“I’m hotter than the sun,” Carlos murmurs.

“You can say that again.”

Carlos smiles. “But I’m great. My baby’s sleeping. My belly’s full…” he opens one eye. “I married the best man in all the world.”

“Stop.” TK grins and leans down, pressing both fists to the mattress either side of Carlos’ head, where he makes biscuits for a moment like a cat.

Open tag and tags below!:

tagged by @soupfic @cathcer1984 with some fascinating words you should check out. thank you beloveds 🫶

Eddie Diaz: Yes.

The name itself wasn’t a surprise, Maddie enthusiastically told him she was inviting Eddie and Chris.

Seeing his best friend in person should have excited him. Instead, he landed somewhere between hollow and anxious, pasting on a smile for his big sister.

Last spring, after Chim gave his rousing firehouse speech, he really thought there was hope. Eddie stood taller, looking just as inspired as the rest of them. Like he couldn’t wait for an opportunity to whip out his phone and tell El Paso ‘thanks, but no thanks’. Turns out Eddie did call the captain–his captain. He explained the disastrous situation with the building collapse and was granted an additional forty-eight hours.

Within twenty-four, Eddie was on a plane out of LAX.