#@all shelves squad this is all on you

[wylinka]

AND IT DID (manifesting)

Suki said "so dumb it’s brilliant" and I love her for it. One more @lovelyelbowleech’s War Games fan art, but a less angsty one this time.

[whoblewboobear]

Aelwyn being the one to comfort Porter after he and Jace break up and he physically can’t leave Leviathan to make things right makes me so 🤧💖 when she’s not making his life hell at the compass points, she truly might be the only friend he has. Ayda doesn’t care if he lives or dies and that’s so funny to me.

She’s like “your shift starts at 7, please stop crying and shelve the books. My dad and my girlfriend gave me permission to kill you if you don’t shelve the books.” And Porter and is just 🥺

[somestorythoughts]

I actually know fics about this! Not about her being Domino's general though I would HAPPILY read that fic, but Jocasta Jones and the Librarian Clones turns out to have been partially inspired by this post (she ends up with a squad and they are on their way to becoming excellent librarians!!) and General Jocasta is in a similar vein where basically Obi-Wan gets put in charge of organizing the war and goes to the people who spend their lives organizing things aka the librarians for help (this one is complete!). So on the off-chance there's librarians/archivists/museum folks who like Star Wars following me, check them out they're fun!

But in terms of Domino Squad becoming Librarians/Archivists/their favorite assistants:

The Commanders have a Chat populate SOLELY by Commanders and the Captains they invite in and it is as secure as they can make it. Which is pretty damn secure.

And they're well into an informational conversation read gossip session about their latest Jedi shenanigans.

Cody: I found Obi-Wan stress baking. It wouldn't be that wierd if I knew where he got the ingreditates we haven't gone shopping in months?

Bly: that's nothing General Kolar joined us a few days ago and he and Aalya have been competeing over who can flip the most tanks in a battle

Rex: Hah that's nothing!

CT-1409: it really is.

Wolffe: whom the fuck?

CT-1409: It was Crafts' Day yesterday. 25 Jedi cadets who are still working on their Force levetating.

Rex: Who are you and how did you get into this chat?

CT-1409: With paint. Apparently glitter has been banned from the Archives for the past 147 years due to The Glitter Incident, its use by jedi cadets is restricted to particular rooms in the temple. It was wonderful. It was also Very Messy.

COdy: Rex, Keelie, who is this?

Rex: You think all CTs know each other Commander? Really??

CT-1409: Truely sir

Fox: Echo.

CT-1409: yes sir!

Fox: Echo what are you doing in our chat?

CT-1409: SIr Sargent Byte said I should work on the offensive side of cyber security sir.

Wolffe: Fox who the fuck is this

Fox: hush. So you decided to do this?

CT1409: I have been told to hush sir

Fox: Do I need to come over there you little shit?

CT-1409: Commander Thorn dared me sir.

Fox: I'm beginning to understand why Byte laughed when someone said you're the one with impulse control

CT-1409: That would be Cutup and Hevy sir

Fox: guys this is Echo. He's part of Domino squad they got assigned to the archives a while back, we've run into each other a couple times

Bly: and you decided, on a dare, to hack into our hyper-secured chat to test your slicing skills

CT-2010: He did sir

several people are typing...

What if Shaak Ti, in stopping the Kaminoans from decommissioning clones, asks around if anybody has place and purpose for some non-combatant clones. And Jocasta Nu goes "A bunch of keen young men with eidetic memories? Don't mind if I do" and that is how the Jedi temple library has the most amazing librarians in the galaxy

Okay but - 

Domino fails their final test, but Shaak manages to stop them from being decommissioned or sent to work sanitation by roping Jocasta into snatching them up for that reason. All the members of Domino kind of collectively groan and complain but ship out anyway, and they’re pretty sure it’s all going to be this terrible, boring slog through ancient books with some stuffy librarian Jedi - 

Right up until Jocasta gets word of a cache of Jedi holocrons on a frontline planet, packs up her five new assistants and her lightsaber, and leads them on the most greuling, dangerous, ridiculous mission through active battlefields and Separatist camps that absolutely no one believes happened when they tell their vode later. Which is absolutely fine, because Domino now knows they have the most badass general in the whole galaxy, bar none. 

[callsigns-haze]

The quiet ones

Summary: You surprise the Dagger Squad by revealing your secret to Bob, who shyly but lovingly melts into your kiss as the others watch in shock, as shy guys are your type.

Chapter Warning: Secret relationship reveal, unexpected PDA, and flustered teammates, drinking.

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x reader

The sun is barely up, casting a soft glow over the empty beach outside The Hard Deck as you pull open the doors and step into the familiar dimness of the bar.

You've been doing this for years—unlocking before the heat of the day sets in, setting up stools, and sliding glasses onto the shelves with the smooth rhythm you've perfected. Today feels the same, but something in the air hints it won't be an ordinary shift. There's a buzz, the sort that comes with Navy missions brewing, whispered over drinks in tones low enough that only bartenders know how to hear.

You're wiping down the bar when the door creaks open. You look up and spot a guy with dark-rimmed glasses, a touch of shyness evident in the way he stands at the door, scanning the place like he’s about to get reprimanded just for being here early. He's tall but sort of unassuming, a guy who'd rather fade into the background. He's a contrast to the pilots who usually come in loud, all bravado and swagger. You recognize him instantly: Bob, the quiet one who stands at the edges of the Dagger Squad.

As he approaches, you give him a slow, easy smile and cross your arms, leaning back. "Hey there. Early start for you guys?"

He swallows hard, adjusting his glasses. “Uh…yeah. Just…getting a round for the squad.” His voice is barely audible, like he’s half-hoping you’ll mishear and let him walk away without much fuss.

Your eyes flick over him, taking in his nervous fidgeting. It’s endearing, really, the way he seems like he'd rather be anywhere but standing across from you. And maybe it’s because he's the polar opposite of the loud types, but you can’t help teasing him a little.

“So…who’s in charge of this little mission?” you ask, setting down a few glasses with a subtle clink.

He hesitates, caught off guard by the question. “Uh…Admiral Simpson.”

You chuckle. “Beau? That's my uncle."

Bob's eyes widen, his mouth hanging open for a moment before he stammers out a response. "Oh. Uh, wow. I… I didn’t know." The faintest blush creeps up his cheeks, and he looks down, almost embarrassed to be caught off guard like that.

You can’t resist needling him just a bit more, leaning in just close enough to watch him fluster. You know the effect you have—the low neckline of your top, the tattoos trailing down your arm, the glint of your piercings just visible through the thin fabric. He’s doing his best not to stare, but his eyes flick down for a split second before he yanks his gaze back up, his face turning redder by the second.

“Don’t worry,” you say with a smirk, letting your fingers trace the rim of a glass, “your secret’s safe with me.”

“Uh…thanks. I just—um, I’ll take…uh, the round,” he manages, his voice catching as you pour the drinks.

You can see his struggle—the way he wants to say something, but every time he opens his mouth, he clams up. He's never met anyone like you before, that’s obvious. The confidence, the tattoos, the piercings peeking through the fabric—it all ties together into something that leaves him completely off balance. And he’s… well, adorable.

As you slide the last glass across the bar to him, you give him a wink. “See you around, Bob. Bring your friends by sometime.”

He mutters a quiet “thank you” and shuffles out, beers in hand and cheeks flushed. And as he heads out the door, you can't help but grin to yourself, wondering if he’ll find the nerve to say more next time.

---

It’s a typical night at The Hard Deck, the bar buzzing with energy, filled with the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and rock music blaring from the jukebox. The place is packed with Navy types, just as it always is when there’s no active mission holding them back. You’re behind the bar, quick on your feet, sliding drinks to customers and catching up with the regulars. Then, through the crowd, you spot him.

Hangman strides up to the bar with that cocky swagger he’s famous for. Tall, blond, and all confidence, he’s got a grin that could charm the devil himself. And he knows it. Tonight, he’s dressed in his usual off-duty look—just tight enough T-shirt and a leather jacket slung over his shoulder, looking every bit the guy who doesn’t take “no” for an answer. But that’s the game he plays, and tonight you’re ready for him.

“Evening, sweetheart,” he drawls, leaning across the bar just a little too close. “Thought you’d be closed by now.”

You raise an eyebrow, resting your hands on the bar and meeting his gaze without flinching. “Well, I thought you’d be up in the air by now,” you shoot back, your tone teasing. “Guess we’re both full of surprises.”

He chuckles, clearly delighted by the challenge. “All right, you got me there,” he says, glancing around. “But I’ve got a list for you. The squad’s thirsty tonight.”

“Let’s hear it, then,” you say, pulling out a row of glasses, ready to work but giving him your full attention.

He leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial tone. “Well, let’s start with two beers for Phoenix and Bob. Can’t have ‘em dehydrating, right?” There’s a slight pause, and he gives you a smirk, his gaze lingering a bit longer than necessary. “Make sure Bob’s is extra cold—he’s, uh, still cooling off after the last time you talked to him.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you start on the beers. “Don’t tell me he’s still flustered from that., it's been years.”

“Poor guy doesn’t stand a chance with you around, no matter the time,” Hangman says with a wink. “But hey, he’ll survive. Next up, Coyote wants a whiskey—neat. You know how he is. And Rooster…” He pauses, rolling his eyes in that way he does whenever he brings up Rooster. “Rooster’s a beer guy, as usual. But let’s give him the lighter stuff. Don’t want him trying to prove anything tonight.”

You slide the beers across to him, already pouring the whiskey as he keeps going. “And what about you, Hangman?” you ask, tossing him a smirk. “Anything special, or do you just want a mirror to stare into?”

He laughs, clearly enjoying this back-and-forth. “Ouch, darlin’. That one stings.” He places a hand over his heart, feigning offense before letting his gaze flick down to the line of tattoos trailing up your arm, then back to meet your eyes with a mischievous glint. “But as long as you’re the one serving, I’ll take whatever you recommend.”

You pour him a whiskey, sliding it over the bar with a raised brow. “Think you can handle it?”

He picks up the glass, holding it up to you with that easy, confident grin. “Oh, I can handle a lot more than that. But I like a bartender who can keep me on my toes.” He takes a sip, never breaking eye contact, letting the moment hang in the air.

The bar is still loud around you, but there’s a beat where it’s just you and him, his gaze heavy and flirtatious, yours daring him to keep going. He leans in a little closer, his voice a quiet murmur. “You know, we should get a drink somewhere else sometime. Just you and me.”

You lean back, letting a slow smile spread across your face, but truly this guy is not for you. “Oh, is that an invitation?”

“Consider it an open one,” he replies, giving you a wink before stepping back to gather up the drinks. “But hey, don’t take too long thinking it over. I don’t like waiting.”

It’s been a busy night, the bar still packed as the crowd buzzes with the kind of energy that only comes when there’s no telling when the next mission will roll around. You’re behind the bar, catching your breath after that last round, when you catch sight of Rooster winding his way through the crowd, headed straight for you.

He’s wearing his usual laid-back style—well-worn jeans, a vintage band T-shirt, and that aviator jacket slung over his shoulders. He looks like something out of a different time, especially with those sunglasses perched up in his curls, even though it’s night. Rooster always has this quiet, steady confidence, like he knows he doesn’t need to announce himself. And there’s something a little different in his step as he approaches you, maybe a touch of playfulness in the way he’s looking at you, a half-smile already curving on his lips.

“Hey, bartender,” he says, leaning onto the bar with an easy grin. “I’m back for the squad’s refills, but this time I think we’re changing things up.”

“Oh yeah?” You give him an amused look, resting your hands on the bar and leaning in just enough to close the space between you. “Guessing Hangman finally realized he can order something other than whiskey?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well, Hangman’s hard to change. But the rest of us? We’re open to suggestions. Figured you might know what we need better than we do.”

You raise a brow, sensing the tease in his tone. “Oh, so now I’m in charge of drinks? Guess I must be moving up in the world.”

“Better believe it.” He flashes you a quick grin. “But you still gotta keep me entertained while you’re at it.”

You laugh, reaching for a row of glasses. “Let me see… Something tells me you could handle a little extra kick tonight.” You pour a round of tequila for Phoenix and Coyote, grabbing lime wedges and a sprinkle of salt for the rims.

“Tequila for Phoenix and Coyote,” you announce, lining them up. “And… let’s do something different for Bob. A Moscow Mule might be more his speed—something smooth but not too strong, I know he likes it.”

“Perfect,” Rooster nods, his eyes catching on the way your hands move as you pour, clearly fascinated. “And what do you recommend for me?”

“Hmm,” you say, pretending to consider as you tilt your head, catching his gaze. “Something with a bit of bite, I think. Something… classic.”

You reach for the whiskey, but instead of neat, you add a twist of orange, pouring a well-balanced Old Fashioned. You slide it over to him, catching his eye with a smirk. “Think you’re ready for that?”

He picks up the glass, turning it slowly in his hand, that same lazy smile lingering on his face. “Only if you’re ready to join me for one sometime,” he says, his voice low enough to make sure you catch the hint. He takes a sip, and his gaze stays fixed on you, watching your reaction, clearly testing the waters.

You raise an eyebrow, not about to let him off easy. “And what makes you think I’d go for a guy who takes drink recommendations from the bartender?”

He chuckles, not missing a beat. “Because I don’t think you’d waste your time with just any guy.” He holds your gaze, letting the words hang in the air, something challenging in his smile. “You seem a little… particular.”

“And you think you’re up to the standards?” You tilt your head, leaning on the bar just close enough that he has to take in every word.

His eyes flick down to your arm, where your tattoos catch the light, and then back up to meet yours, a flicker of mischief in his gaze. “I think I’d be willing to try,” he says, his voice smooth, steady. “But I’ll leave it up to you if I get the chance.”

You shake your head, suppressing a grin, and reach for another glass, pouring yourself a splash of soda as you lean back. “How about you focus on delivering those drinks first, hotshot?”

Rooster raises his glass in a mock salute, his eyes never leaving yours. “Alright, boss,” he says, clearly amused. “But don’t think I’m letting this go that easily.”

He picks up the tray, balancing it with practiced ease as he throws one last look over his shoulder before heading back to the squad. You’re left behind the bar, catching your breath with a smile as you watch him go, knowing full well he’ll be back for another round—and maybe another shot at breaking through.

-

The Dagger Squad is clustered around a corner table, the drinks you just served scattered across the tabletop. Conversation and laughter flow easily, but the energy shifts the second Hangman and Rooster start eyeing each other, sizing each other up with cocky grins and sidelong glances. Bob, meanwhile, is trying his best to blend into the background, clutching his Moscow Mule and looking more than a little flustered as he watches his teammates' latest standoff unfold.

“You know, Rooster,” Jake drawls, leaning back in his chair and raising his whiskey with an infuriatingly smug smile, “you’re wasting your time here. She’s clearly more into a guy with… confidence.” He emphasizes the last word, smirking as he takes a slow sip, his eyes flicking over to the bar where you’re serving another customer.

Rooster snorts, crossing his arms as he leans forward. “Confidence? Is that what you call whatever it is you do?” He shakes his head, trying to keep his voice casual, but the competitive gleam in his eyes betrays him. “Trust me, Bagman, she’s not going for the guy who struts around like a damn peacock.”

Phoenix snickers, sipping her tequila and watching the scene unfold like it’s her favourite soap opera. “This is priceless,” she mutters to Coyote, who nods, clearly entertained.

“Oh, please,” Jake fires back, unfazed. “You think that ‘slow burn’ routine of yours is going to win her over? Women don’t want to wait around forever. They like a guy who knows what he wants.” He casts another confident glance toward the bar, and Rooster follows his gaze, jaw tightening just slightly.

Bob, meanwhile, is turning a shade of red that nearly matches his squadmate’s call sign. He keeps his eyes firmly on his drink, but Phoenix catches the flush creeping up his neck and nudges him with her elbow.

“Hey, Bob,” she says with a mischievous grin, “you’re awfully quiet over there. What do you think? Who’s got the better shot?”

Bob’s eyes widen as every head at the table turns to look at him. He stammers, his grip tightening on his glass. “I—I don’t know,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible. “I, uh… I think she’d go for someone… respectful. Kind of… uh…”

Rooster grins, reaching over to pat Bob’s shoulder, his tone almost affectionate. “See, Bob gets it. A guy who’s not all in her face about it.”

Jake rolls his eyes, scoffing as he leans back. “Right. Because nothing says ‘charming’ like shyly staring into your drink.”

Bob just blushes harder, sinking a little lower in his seat as Phoenix pats his back in a show of support. “Ignore them, Bob. They’re just scared you’re the dark horse here,” she teases, sending Jake and Bradley a challenging look.

“Oh, is that it?” Hangman laughs, tipping his glass toward Bob in mock salute. “Tell you what, Bob—if she turns me down, I’ll let you take a shot.”

Rooster shakes his head, chuckling. “Sure, Bob. If Jake somehow fails—and trust me, he will—you’ve got my blessing.”

Bob’s face is now a deep shade of crimson, and he lets out a nervous laugh, clearly mortified. But he can’t resist glancing over toward the bar, where you’re moving easily between customers, completely unaware of the mini-drama playing out across the room.

“You know what?” Rooster says, straightening up and giving Jake a look that’s half-challenge, half-smirk. “Why don’t we let her decide who’s worth her time?”

Jake’s eyes narrow, a slow smile spreading across his face. “Fine by me, Rooster. May the best man win.”

Bob practically melts into his seat, but despite his obvious embarrassment, there’s the smallest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he glances at you.

-

You’ve been keeping an eye on the Dagger Squad from behind the bar, and you’ve caught enough of the banter to know they’re up to something. You can feel the weight of their stares now, so you decide to put them out of their misery. With a knowing smile, you grab a couple of fresh napkins and make your way over to the table, letting your gaze linger on one person in particular.

Bob’s leaning on the railing, doing his best to stay out of the spotlight as Jake and Bradley bicker, each too wrapped up in their little rivalry to notice you coming. Only Phoenix catches your approach, her eyes widening in excitement as she realizes what’s about to happen. She’s the only one who knows, after all.

“Hey, Bobby,” you say with a playful lilt, giving him a warm smile. His head snaps up, his cheeks turning an immediate shade of pink.

You can tell he’s trying to play it cool, but there’s a flicker of pure adoration in his eyes as he takes you in. Without a word, he leans in, brushing his lips softly against yours, his hand finding your waist as he pulls you in. His usual shyness fades as he melts into the kiss, his touch growing just a little bolder, like he’s letting himself savour every second.

Around you, the entire squad has gone silent. Rooster, Hangman, and Coyote are all staring, mouths slightly open in complete disbelief. But it’s not the kiss that has them in shock. It’s the glint of your engagement ring—hanging on a delicate chain around your neck, tucked just under the collar of your shirt. The light catches it as you pull back from Bob, and you see the realization dawn on each of their faces.

“Oh, my god,” Phoenix gasps, covering her mouth, trying to stifle her laughter as she watches Jake and Bradley try to process what they’re seeing. “No way. All this time, and she’s been with… Bobby?” Her eyes sparkle with pure delight as she glances back at you, unable to contain her excitement.

Bob, still flushed from the kiss, shifts awkwardly as he catches sight of his teammates’ stunned expressions. He ducks his head, clearly overwhelmed by all the attention, but there’s a shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wraps an arm around your waist, holding you close.

“Wait…you’re with Bob?” Hangman says, still sounding completely baffled. He shakes his head, his usual confidence gone. “And you’re engaged?”

“Guess we kept it under wraps a little too well,” you say with a smirk, running a hand affectionately through Bob’s hair, watching as he blushes even deeper but relaxes into your touch. He looks at you with such genuine, quiet adoration that it’s impossible not to smile.

Rooster, still processing, lets out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Wow. And here I was thinking shy guys didn’t stand a chance.”

Phoenix is practically beside herself with joy, and she can’t help but gloat just a little. “Well, guess what, boys?” You grin, crossing your arms. “Turns out all I wanted was the quiet one.”

[tojisun]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR738nuU/

definitely something simon would do with his backpack

PLS THE WAY HE WONT EVEN TELL YOU 😭

biker!simon mlist // star divider by @/plutism <33

like, just imagine being out on a ride with the rest of the boys and they stop by a bodega for snacks or smthn idk (johnny definitely needs to piss) and you notice the way simon’s shoulders are shaking in a silent laughter while the rest of the squad is turned towards the two of you, watching with rapt interest.

you flip your visor up. “what’s goin’ on?” you ask

simon heaves a deep sigh, calming himself down, before patting your knee and getting off the bike. he flicks the kill-switch and kicks at the side stand to keep the bike from tilting.

he doesn’t help you get off so you wonder if it’s just a quick stop, but then johnny hollers, “y’r not allowed to come in, lass!”

“what?”

simon turns to you with his visor up, his lips pursed in that boyish smile. “take care of the kids, yeah?”

he bends down just enough to bump his helmet on yours – a kiss, that you know – before walking to the bodega, flanked by the rest of the group.

what fucking kids-

the bikes?

you’re still frozen on his bike, watching as the group splits up – john heads towards the fridges, johnny asks the worker for a key for the washroom, kyle disappears between the shelved snacks, and simon stands by the window that is empty of pasted posters so he can stare back at you from inside the shop.

you shoot him a glare, one that you know he won’t even see because of the distance between you two.

simon gives you a small wave.

it isn’t until later when you’re pinching his thighs that he finally tells you what that was all about. he points to the “no backpacks allowed” sign and looks at you with a quirked brow.

“ohh!” you say as the realization dawns on you. simon huffs a laugh while johnny swats the back of your helmet lightly.

“took y’long enough, din’cha?”

you punch johnny’s shoulder in retaliation. “shut up, man.”

“yeah, man,” simon pipes up, trying, and failing, to tamp down his thick accent to mimic your intonation. “shut up- jesus, lovie. stop pinching me- ow!”

johnny snickers as he runs back to his bike.

[sweetnans]

Pairing: f.reader/bakugo

t.warning: angst? war flashbacks and fluff

a/n: I'm sorry if I misspelled something. My hand hurts. Enjoy 💖

He be goddammed. Mina had asked specifically for a comic book to give Denki for his birthday, and none of the dumbasses on the squad have found it. So here he is, entering in the twelveth bookstore on his day off. Bakugo couldn't believe his position right now. The last time he had a day off was like ages ago, and now he has to find a stupid book for one of his friends.

He walked in with his usual scowl, looking for the labeled shelf with all the colorful spines highlighting above the bored ones.

The bookstore was empty. He was about to give up on his search when the building appeared on his way back home. It was a tiny store, cozy and brown. All shelves were made of wood, and the sitting area was no different. Brown chairs varnished with fluffy blankets on top. It was like a fairy forest magical paradise kind of shit. He liked the quietness.

"Hey, welcome! How may I help you?" The girl behind the desk spoke out of nothing, putting him in defense mode. He couldn't help it. He is a heroe, after all.

He saw the girl rising his hands in surrender with a comical smile on her face.

"Calm down, I'm only trying to help you," you said, putting your book down in a very slow movement.

"Shit, sorry" he apologized.

He couldn't help but notice how the smile on your face shifted to a weird look, scanning him from tip to toe.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" You tapped your chin while bending over your desk to have a better look on the man who was in front of you.

"Probably from the screen or magazines" He said nonchalantly. He was used to this kinda stuff.

"Mm yeah maybe" you were unsure about that. "So, what are you looking for?"

"Im looking for a comic book." He looked at you while you walked to the comics shelf, and he followed when he noticed that had no other information."It's a special edition, I haven't found it yet, and I'm starting to think that's not in stock"

"Just a few people have found this place, it's not even in the google map, so you have the odds to find it here, I like to keep my stock updated" you said, looking at him. God, where have you seen him? How could you forget such a guy like him?

While Bakugo kept searching the famous comic book on the giant shelf, you tried to search in your mind the sight of him.

"You told me that I could have seen you on magazines. Are you a hero, perhaps?"

Bakugo stopped his search in a bit. He wasn't full of himself like when he was younger, but it was difficult to believe that someone didn't recognize him.

"Yeah, I am"

The look on your face didn't change with realization like he expected. Your facade was even more puzzled than before.

You kept silent trying to think. You found Bakugo particularly special. He had features that weren't easy to forget, so why were you so confused?

"GOT IT!" The two of you screamed at the same time, sharing a look. Bakugo was confused, and you were extremely excited.

You two walked to the register, and he lent you the book he was holding.

"May I ask what you got?" He asked secretly, praying that you would give away the information.

"Oh yeah sorry, I remembered you" you scanned the code and put the book on a paper bag.

"Is that so?" Bakugo wasn't sure if you had like a dementia or a memory problem.

"Yeah" you simply said, "Also, you will love this book, it's so good" you said holding the bag to him after he paid.

"Have you read it?" He was curious. You didn't seem the type of girl fan of comics.

"Yes, I just did"

He would be amazed if he didn't live in society based on quirks. It was odd in the society working on a thing that wasn't related to the individual's quirk.

"How does it work?" Bakugo asked because he found that he liked the quietness your bookstore provided. He didn't want to leave.

"When I touch the book, I just know everything about it, the storyline, the plot, etcetera. It's pretty helpful. it works with people too, " you explained to him.

"That's pretty cool," he said, giving it a moment. "Wait, people? That would be pretty useful. Have you ever thought about working with the police? Or the Pro's?

You sighed with a smile on your face. He was getting used to your mannerisms.

"I worked with them for a while..." You intertwined your fingers above the counter. "When the war started, I was assigned to the special identification unit"

"I never heard of it." When the war started He was so busy fighting and being injured to notice anything else. "What was your job there?"

"I was in charge of the identification of dead and destroyed bodies"

Bakugo was shocked even if his face didn't give it away. You were about his age. He sympathized with you because he lived the same shit that you lived, the same trauma, watching people die and suffer in a different perspective.

"That's...-" He didn't know what to say.

"I know..., they pulled me out of the school to make me help them". It was raw, but the war made its havocs to everyone.

"So you were in the field..."

"Yeah, right after the heroes fought, we used to get the call and head to the battlefield"

"Why did you quit?"

You doubted. Maybe he wasn't ready for the upcoming truth...maybe he didn't even know what happened.

"You know, it all changed when I went to this battlefield. It was one of the last fights that occurred during the war. A lot of people were injured, some of them dead, some of them presumed to be dead...I was so excited when I remembered you because I never got the chance to thank you"

He was stunned. When you made a mention about him, his world stopped its rotation. You really knew him? Like outside the press?

"Thank me about what?" He asked curious.

"Your life vision," you said in a calm way. He didn't understand. "Fights and battles move out faster than you think, sometimes they're fighting in the sky, and then they're on the ground, so me and my team had to be quick following the main focus of them. I was looking for injured people to send them to the EMTs when I found you. I remember holding you in my arms. Your face was destroyed, and there was blood everywhere. I saw who you were, your failures, your accomplishments, your friends, your life, and it amazed me. You were just a kid fighting for the grown-up mistakes, but you liked it. You were devoted to your dreams. I never felt that while working with the police. " You stopped for a bit to breathe again. You couldn't look Bakugo to his eyes. "When I touch a corpse, I see everything in a gray hue, every memory fading away. It's sad. You were in my arms when that gray hue started to change to a bright and the most precious tone of orange and red, you were alive, I've never seen something like that before. I was, god, I didn't even know how to put it in words. I remember crying and thinking that it would be a chance for you to pursue your dreams. It wasn't over for you like it was for the other people I attended. Other colors started to appear as well. I felt your chest move again, and I took you to the EMTs. You were the most beautiful vision I saw during the war. You made me realize that i didn't want to watch other peoples crushed dreams. I wanted to live my own, you had your chance, I wanted a chance too, a chance far away from the sadness and catastrophe"

He kept himself quiet. For the first time in many years, he was out of words.

"This is head spinning, I don't know what to say." He was overwhelmed with everything you've said. He was well aware that someone must've saved him, but he never thought that he was presumed dead when it happened.

"Don't get me wrong, I feel like I did my duty as a citizen, and I'll do it again if they need me, but it was devastating touch those bodies and realize that there were people waiting for them at home or that they had kids that they never will be able to see grow up. I haven't done my peace with the war yet"

"I remember being carried to the ambulance. Was that you?" That was the first memory he had after he woke up. It was a blury one like those memories you don't know if they're real or not.

"Yeah, you were such a heavy lift. No offense, " you giggle a little.

"Not taken, how old were you?" Bakugo scratched the back of his neck, trying to assemble every piece of information.

"I was eighteen at that time. You were sixteen, i think, a major pain in the ass for what i saw. Before you woke up i was upset for you, the people you had around really loved you and cared about you, it was unfair and i started to feel guilty about the lives they would never be able to have, yours included"

"Dont be hard on yourself. It wasn't your fault. I was fighting for the grown-up mistakes, but you were definitely living the consequences of them"

The silence between you two was absolutely necessary. You dreamed about this day, you weren't looking forward to it, you didn't do your research or bother to look for him but it was happening. Bakugo couldn't piece the information right. You saved him. He didn't remember much of it, but he knew that someone, a girl, took him to the ambulance, but until a few hours ago, it was just a thought that appeared in his lonely nights. Now you were in front of him, sharing a crucial part of yourself and himself aligned.

"Fuck" That was the first thing he came up with. It was the perfect word to describe how he felt.

"Same," you said. You weren't sure how to feel either. You let it all out, and you were happy that He was alive. "Did you fulfill your dreams?"

He put a weird look that had you regretting your question.

"I'm the number two pro hero in Japan," You covered your face with your hands in absolute shame and laughed.

"I'm so sorry, I don't watch TV or anything." He smiled as well. Your laugh was contagious enough to make him smile. "I'm happy to see you alive"

You were cute. When he first saw you, he thought to himself that something, outside everything he had known, was pulling him to you, like an invisible string or something. You saved his life, and he didn't even attempt to find you sooner. He couldn't let you go.

"My friend's birthday is this saturday," he started. "I know it's not like a proper date or something, but if you don't have any plans or a boyfriend or something like-

Most of the time, he didn't get that nervous, but you were there, standing in front of him, looking at him with perfect eyes and trying to hide your smile.

"I'd love to," you answered before he could say anything else. He felt relieved for the interruption and for you saying yes.

"Good," he watched while you scribbled down your number in a paper.

You put the paper on his hand, and even though he was skeptical, most of the time, he would've swear that he felt a sort of electricity running up and down his spine.

"There you go," you said, batting slightly your lashes at him.

He felt weird. He didn't want this encounter to end. He wanted to tell you a lot of things. He wanted to vent about his life. He wanted to make you a part of him.

"Fuck the party" he muttered. "Are you free? Like right now? Let me buy you a coffee."

He was desperate.

"Let me think about it," you tapped your chin jokingly. "Help me close this thing, and I'm all yours"

The air that he was holding left his lungs. He didn't think that he was being impulsive with all this. He just knew that you were something that was meant to happen, but he never thought that he would have a second chance to meet you again.

Do not edit or reupload my works elsewhere! All rights reserved.

[2-dsimp]

——|———-|———|———

Yandere hitman squad

Introducing the Boss

——|———-|———|———

Yandere Boss who’s known as a lazy sleezebag that makes the squad carry more weight than needed. He can never be bothered to do anything that he deems as tiresome and is often just chilling in the background. However, when it comes time to flip his ON switch that’s when he truly starts making boss moves.

Yandere Boss is a closeted Otaku of anime. Having shelves upon shelves of figurines, mangas, and unopened collector items. As well as walls covered in iconic wall tapestries of his favorite characters. Along with a secret closet filled with cosplay costumes that’s yet to be touched.

Yandere Boss that happens to go to AnimeCon one day in a shady disguise silently admiring the authentic cosplays and merch. Until something caught his eye which was you in the most glamorous mouth watering homemade cosplay that left him gasping for breath and leaning up against the wall as he tried to calm his pounding heart from how fantastic you looked.

Yandere Boss who immediately became a fan. Lacking the drive to part the Red Sea of cosplayers flocking to you like a bunch of fruit flies he settled for admiring you from afar following your every move from a short distance as he began snapping photo after photo, and even taking videos of his newfound cosplayer crush that he’s becoming absolutely obsessed with like it was love at first sight.

Yandere Boss who gripped his phone screen so tightly that it cracked from him spotting two losers harassing you now that you were in a somewhat secluded area. With a long drawn out raspy sigh he retreated from the wall’s corner and came out the shadows behind you.

Yandere Boss that tentatively slithered his lean arm around your shoulder towering over you with his tall lanky frame. Peering down at the two creeps with a deadpanned expression like they were nothing but sad insects as he taunted them with an disgusted sneer. Insulting the two harassers, his sharp tongue automatically cursing them out calling them gross dickless losers and disgraces to the anime community all in one. While flipping them a slender manicured middle finger painted black as he told them to fuck off since you were taken by him.

Yandere Boss who purposely made a whole scene causing everybody to collectively to look his way and ridicule the two offenders despite his inclination to being under the attention of the masses as he was doing this all for his lovely little cosplayer. He had a look of smugness on his face, seeing the two fools be escorted out by the security for trying to commit disrespectful acts at the convention. But in the end he got a tad overwhelmed from the attention thrown his way and began sweating a bit under the pressure.

Yandere Boss who couldn’t help but feel his social battery burning out at a fast paste due to the cheers of the crowd awarding his smartarian actions when to be honest he was just acting out on his own selfish impulses since he couldn’t stand those filthy losers touching his newfound idol he was going to worship for the rest of his days.

Yandere Boss who damn neared almost suffered a heart attack when his sweet idol saw his dilemma and guided him swiftly away from the crowd that chanting how much of a chad he was. Grasping onto the arm he slung over their shoulder with their soft hands. He couldn’t help but become stiff like a robot as his face flushed his natural tired aloof features with splotches of a rosy red on his pale skin.

Yandere Boss who’s lungs got caught in his throat as you spoke to him with your adorable voice continuously thanking him. He watched you intently as you paused for a moment to ask if you could give him a hug noticing how antsy he was with the the attention that was focused on him. Saying no words he opened his arms invitingly tired eyes now sparkling full of life as if he’d just received enlightenment from god while he nodded frantically to the point where afterimages of his bobbing head could be seen in 3 different layers.

Yandere Boss who fist pumped himself in victory after you gave him your number and left the scene. He was feeling faint with a rush of endorphins flooding his senses from the interaction. Relishing in your sweet scent that covered his clothes, he vowed in his head that he’d never ever wash these clothes that were touched by his adoring idol. He was already picturing them framed up in his closet to commemorate this beautiful moment in his life.

Yandere Boss who’s your number one fan and supporter for life, and will always be sure to disregard his duties if only to fawn over you like the crazed fan that he is.

[devilstruly]

IMAGINE going undercover per bruce’s request as a street racer in gotham

your mission is to infiltrate the community and climb up the ladder as far as possible and take them down from the inside

it takes months to prepare, months of reckless driving lessons with bruce, months of fighting with him, etc.

you go on the mission under your legal name, under the disguise of wanting to taste the crime life or something like that, who cares

during those months when you're finally undercover you don't patrol, just focus on the mission

and then one day, after you've won yet another race, everyone is celebrating your win at this cool af bar, music is blasting, you've drank one of the best cocktails in your life, life can't get any better

until, a man in a suit approaches you, an unreadable expression on his face. 'the owner would like to speak with you.' you have no idea who the fuck the owner is but something tells you you ought to comply regardless

so you follow the man, up the stairs in the back and into an apartment above the bar (technically a whole floor but you know, details)

you walk into this room that looks like an office, shelves lined up with books and an arsenal of guns on the wall. there are two leather couches in the middle and at the very end of the room, in front of the glass wall, is a mahogany desk

and behind it sits none other than red hood

except, his red helmet is placed on the table, with only his domino mask covering his eyes

(he trusts his goons enough and has stopped caring around them)

he eyes you up and down, smirking, but for an entirely different reason then his assistant might think

with one nod from jason the man who walked you here leaves, closing the door behind him

while you're still processing the sight of jason of all people, his demeanor shifts entirely and he glares

'explain. now.'

he motions for you to sit across from him and it's enough to pull you out of your daze

'before you say anything!' you start defending yourself immediately 'i had no idea you owned this place.'

'and you expect me to believe that?' he raises an eyebrow, utterly unimpressed

'yes..?'

'cut the crap. why are you here?'

and then you launch into an explanation about your mission and jason gradually starts believing you

you make a deal, you can keep racing for him while you're on your mission (if you win that's profit for him), and he's not gonna blow your cover (he would never but you don't need to know that)

and so your relationship slowly progresses over the weeks

you become friends with all his men, they adore you. you know all of their names, they invite you to poker nights, you have your own personal cheer squad during races

jason would be lying if he said it didn't make his heart swell. but he doesn't like you. no. he tolerates you. that's it. totally.

his goons are convinced you two are dating

there's a betting pool going on

and so much more the ideas i have for this are insane

i could make a part two

i mean this is not technically an actual work just a ramble but yk

[aceoflove]

The Bookshop of his Dreams - Bob Floyd x Fem!Reader

He wasn't like the rest of the daggers, always chasing the next hookup. Robert "Bob" Floyd wants to find a girl and settle down, and now that he is permanently stationed at Top Gun, maybe he can.

Fluff, 848 words

A/N: I'm a little rusty, so apologies if it isn't the best <3

Bob never considered himself a social butterfly, as he would rather read than go out to a bar on a roundy Friday night after work with his teammates, being left alone when they all find someone to take home. Even though he had been back at Top Gun for 3 months, being a back seater for Pheonix, he never really left the base, minus some small errands. After Maverick announced that the Dagger Squad will be a permanent fixture in San Diego, he could finally breath, knowing that he could get attached to his squadron and the town he has been living in. The military was always moving him around, as a top WSO, but a part of him wished he could settle down, stay in one place for a while and maybe find a girl, and hopefully this was his chance.

The clouds drifted over the sun and the rain began to pour, his feet hitting the ground at a steady place before the little bell above the door rings. He makes it inside a quaint bookshop, owned by a local family from what he had read. He was on his way over there, to find sanctuary for his aching heart when it started to bucket, drenching him to the bones.

“It’s really coming down out there, isn’t it?”

A soft voice drifts from behind the counter, a contrast to the sharp pitter patter of rain bouncing off of the shop fronts windows. Bob turns, spotting the person who spoke to him. The store was empty apart from the worker behind the counter. She was pretty, truly his type looks wise. A timid smile is plastered on both of their faces as he nods.

“Honestly it came out of nowhere. It was so peaceful on the walk over here until just now.”

A chuckle escapes her lips as she nods, her gaze drawn to the window where raindrops were racing down to the bottom. He was drawn to her eyes, her distracted nature endearing, he can’t help the smile creeping up on his face. She shakes out of it and looks back at him. “Sorry! Feel free to look around and if you have any questions, do not hesitate to ask.”

The comfort of the shop truly drew him in, the plethora of books adorning the shelves making him want to buy out the whole store (Although he doesn’t need to get any more books, his shelves were overflowing with poetry books, and any book that captured his interest). Each step brought him further into the atmosphere, each step bringing him into the enchantment of the fairytale in his mind. The shelves carved out of wood, the details making it feel like the shelves belonged in a cottage.

He can’t help but smile at how the book looks so amazing, the collection precise and diverse, curated with many interests in mind.

He comes back a few more times over the next month, getting closer to her, learning her interests, favourite books, and how the shop was her whole world.

His mind wanders back to the loneliness in his heart, how he wishes he could settle down, and have his own library, his wife curled up with a book, nestled into his side as his attention is taken away from his own book to her face. How her face lights up at certain parts and how he can’t help the love in his eyes.

Her face changes, warping into a different face from the one that was stuck in his mind. Her face turned up. He cannot think about this.

Bob was standing outside the bookstore, trying to work up the nerve to walk back in there after thinking of her for a week, his mind running in circles with different daydreams of what like would be like with her by his side, finally having the life he wished for.

Once again, the store welcomes him in, the warmth embracing him and her smile making him melt once more. “How’s my favourite customer?”

“Better now I’m back here.”

‘Now that I’ve seen you.’ The words were on the tip of his tongue, his heart pounding out of his chest as he flushed a little, heading back into the shelves he was familiar with now, as he could walk around there with his eyes closed.

The mind still wanders, seeing her at the front counter reading another book, flipping through the pages, most likely for a review from the shop. He could imagine her at his kitchen counter, reading and annotating while he cooked them dinner. Bob allows his mind to come back down to earth and he looks through the books once more, grabbing a few from the shelves, admiring the blurbs and the cover design. He makes his way to the front counter, back to the woman who captured his attention.

“Ooo! I love this book!”

She picks up one of them, scanning them for purchase. Her eyes lit up, his heart filled with warmth, an unfamiliar feeling blooming in his chest, and he knew.

‘I’m screwed.’

[princessmisery666]

Maverick's Annual Scavenger Hunt - Part 1 of 3

Series Summary: You and Jake have been dancing around each other for a while. The Dagger Squad set it up so that the dancing stops, but a case of miscommunication could ruin it all.

Summary: Everyone wants to win the scavenger hunt prize. Two heads are better than one, so teaming up with Jake should be fun. Right? 

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: Fluff, flirting, teasing.

W/C: 2.5k

Characters: Unnamed female reader (you/she/her), Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace, Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado. Small Parts/Mentioned: The rest of Dagger Squad, Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, Penny Benjamin. 

Pairing: Hangman x Female Reader. Phoenix x Coyote. Mentioned: Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x Penny Benjamin.

Notes: Reader has a call sign.  

Beta(s): @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes are mine. Special shoutout to @writercole

Graphics: made by me on Canva.

Master Lists: Series // Top Gun Maverick // Main

It was a silly game, and you felt ridiculous asking for “Sandals for Maverick.” without any concrete evidence that you were right.

But the Foot Locker sales assistant smirks, “I’ll go get them.”

You sigh happily at not having made a complete fool of yourself.

Each year, Mav invites a select group to participate in a scavenger hunt. He always makes it challenging. Three random objects are to be retrieved and brought to him to win the prize. The prizes vary each year: extra vacation time, an assignment of the winner’s choice, and one spectacular year, the use of Mav’s F50 for an entire weekend, was a reward. 

This year, due to Maverick’s legendary and not generally sanctioned exploits landing him in hot water with Admiral Simpson, it is an all-expenses paid trip to the most highly acclaimed spa in the country. Technically, it had been a trip for him and Penny, but as always, trouble found him. He was lucky to have only his vacation canceled and not be court-martialed. Penny wasn’t happy, even less so when they couldn’t get a refund.

The Dagger Squad are this year’s lucky participants, and two winners will get to stay at the luxury resort for three nights. Mav had dropped hints for the month leading up to game day, and it was up to the squad to figure out what three items were to be found and where.

Sandals were your first thought, and as you rushed to the mall, you had enough time to figure out the other two items. Now that you know your first guess is correct and the sales assistant hands you a brand new pair of Havana’s, you feel a little more confident with the rest. But there is one hiccup to address.

“I know you’re there, Hangman,” you sigh, slipping the sandals into your backpack and zipping it up.

Jake saunters around the display of Air Jordans, arms folded, leaning against the metal shelving. “What gave me away?” 

You aren't about to admit you've noticed the fawning collective trailing behind you as you made your way through the mall. It didn’t take long to realize it wasn’t because of you but the handsome pilot following you. Instead, you snark, “I’m pretty sure they can smell your cologne on the moon.”

He laughs, and as always, it annoys you to no end that your snide remarks never seem to bother him. It’s the school playground all over again. The more you try to discourage him, the more he digs his heels in.

“I like that you know what cologne I wear, Cosmo,” he grins.

You love your call sign - head in the clouds, always wondering how the universe works - but how does he make it sound so dirty? 

His smile is dazzling and you know very few people who can resist it. It takes a lot of effort, but you manage it with a roll of your eyes.

Strolling out of the store, you sigh, “What’d you want, Hangman?” 

“I thought we could team up,” he suggests, chasing after you. “After all, the trip is for two, and I already figured out one of the clues, and you just acquired the second.”

“What did you find?” you ask. 

You don’t need to see the suggestive eyebrow wiggle. It's in his tone, “You show me yours, and I’ll show you mine.”

The eye roll produced by his comment gives you a headache. “Has that line ever worked for you?” 

It's a rhetorical question, but he answers anyway. “You’d be surprised.” 

You probably wouldn’t be. The company he keeps isn’t exactly looking for Mensa-level conversation. He zeroes in on the ones that, like him, are looking for a no-fuss hookup, and you assume the easiest and cheesiest pickup lines, accompanied by his Hollywood smile, work every time.

“Easy and cheesy,” you snicker to yourself. 

“Huh, what?” he asks, jogging slightly to fall in line beside you.

“Nothing.” 

“C’mon, what do you say? Teammates?” 

“I have enough of you in the air as your WSO, Seresin, not sure I wanna spend a weekend in a spa with you.”

It’s partly a lie. Jake isn’t so bad when he’s in the air. He was born to fly, and he’s at his most comfortable when he’s doing what he loves. You’d never admit it, but that's when you like him the most. He’s tolerable when he’s in the cockpit, but maybe that has more to do with the fact you can’t see his face and be blinded by his pretty eyes, tanned skin, and perfect jawline.

He jogs ahead, blocking your path, and you have no choice but to stop. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior,” he pledges, crossing his heart. “You won’t even know I’m there. I have a book I want to read, two new albums I need to listen to without interruption, and a podcast to catch up on. I just wanna relax and eat chips.”

“You eat chips?” you ask and can’t stop your eyes from wandering down the tightly fitted black t-shirt. 

“I do,” he chuckles, gently lifting your chin so you're looking at his face again. 

Crap! Say something horrible to him before his ego gets too big. 

Indelicately, you slap his hand away, snarking, “You read?” 

“I do.” He nods, and you think he actually looks offended. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

He’s right, and that’s been a calculated decision on your part not to get to know him. You are already the outsider, arriving at Fighter Town after the Dagger Squad had become the infamous Dagger Squad. They invited you into the fray with open arms, and you never felt like a newbie, but you didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize the dynamic. Being one of Jake’s conquests would put you firmly in the mission accomplished column, and you didn’t need nor want that kind of reputation. 

You contemplate his proposal, astounded that you're even considering it. If you win, you’d decided to invite Phoenix as your plus one but hadn’t yet extended the invitation. If your suspicions about Phoenix and Coyote are correct, and Phoenix were to win, you would not be the Lieutenant’s first choice.

A weekend of peace and quiet sounds like bliss, and if Jake has all those things to keep him occupied, you’d only really need to see him while traveling to and from the place. 

“Okay,” you say, finally. “We can team up, but I swear if you get in my way, I’ll…. I’ll….” You can’t think of a good enough threat, and he interrupts. 

“You won’t need to do anything to me because I won’t get in your way.” He crosses his heart again, “scouts honor,” holding up his left hand. 

“Wrong hand, dipshit.” 

He laughs, digging in his bag and pulling out a carton of ice cream. It's a plain white tub, not branded, because it’s from Antonio’s, the hidden gem in town. But there’s a sticker on the lid with fancy cursive print that reads Maverick’s Scavenger Hunt 2024, the same sticker on the bottom of the box containing the sandals.

“Sandals for his first official date with Penny on the beach,” you grin, telling Jake the clue you’d figured out. “She got glass in your foot, and he had to carry her a half mile back to the car.”

“Ice cream for his apology to the lactose-intolerant Admiral after he took her on a joyride in his F18,” he explains the clue that led him to ice cream. “I’m not sure about the last one.”

“It’s perfume,” you told him. “After the F18 incident, they were banned from seeing each other. Obviously, they still snuck around, and she sprayed her perfume on his flight suit so she’d always be with him in the air.” 

“That’s actually kind of adorable.” 

“Come on, sappy pants,” you say, deliberately knocking into his shoulder as you walk by him. “We’re gonna win this thing.”

“Sappy pants?” he grumbles but willingly follows.

Winning was the easy part. Spending three nights at a luxury hotel with Jake will be harder than sustaining G-force. Though you are loath to admit it, he’s too easy on the eyes, too much of a flirt, and his unexpected gentlemanly behavior of holding doors, carrying your luggage, and buying your breakfast at the airport is melting your resolve to stay away from him. 

The first sign that the weekend would become a catastrophe was when you checked in. Mav had requested that the booking be changed to a twin room, but the email must have gotten lost in the ether because the room is still a king, and no twins are available. You should have checked the finer details before agreeing to be partners. 

It’s fine. You’ll deal with it and won’t let it ruin the rare weekend off. 

Your first personal mistake was thinking you could survive a weekend with Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin when he wasn’t required to be in uniform. He stripped down to his boxers a minute after entering the room - “wanna wash off the commercial flight smell.” He was less than ten minutes in the bathroom and exited with his hair wrapped in a fluffy white towel and another one snug and low on his hips. 

This is going to be torture.

“Promise is a promise,” he says, walking to his bag on the table, “I’m taking my book, and you won’t see me again.”

Damn it. You wouldn’t mind having him as your view for the day.

“You can take the bed, by the way,” he says. “I’ll ask for more blankets and crash on the floor.”

You want to tell him he doesn’t need to do that, but what's the alternative? You can’t share a bed with him. It would be too close without being close enough.

You smile, grateful. “Well, in that case, dinner is on me.” 

He matches your smile, and you think there’s a hint of a blush on his cheeks, or it could just be the heat from the shower. “Are you asking me on a date?” 

Urgh. Why does he always have to ruin it? Implying that your intentions are more than a friendly gesture. “Not a date. Just dinner.”

“Shame,” he shrugs. “But yeah, okay, dinner.” 

“I’ll make a reservation in the restaurant for seven.”

Jake heads directly to the pool, finds a sun lounger, and delves into his book. Within the first ten pages, the main protagonist is killed off, and his intrigue peaks. He’s happy to wile away the afternoon, topping off his tan and finishing the novel before dinner.

Another five pages in, he spies you exiting the hotel, book in hand, towel in the other, and oversized tee skimming the top of your thighs. 

“Damn,” he mutters to himself.

You look around the pool, and while plenty of loungers are available, you make your way over when you see him. He sits up a little straighter, tensing his abs - giving you a show that he’s pretty confident you want.

“Hey,” you say, “sorry to interrupt.” 

“I’ve had worse interruptions,” he smirks, eyes slipping down to your thighs and back up again. 

You shake your head, smiling lightly. “I couldn’t get a reservation. There’s a wedding rehearsal dinner, so we can’t dine in the restaurant, but we can order room service.”

He nods, “I’m in.”

You look down at the title of his book, and your smile grows. “I’ve read that one,” you comment, “it’s a good one, enjoy.”

You don’t pause long enough for him to say more and take yourself to the other side of the pool, dropping the towel and book onto a free bed. He watches, unashamed that he’s staring, as you pull the t-shirt over your head and reveal a simple black bikini. 

“Fuck,” he says, mentally telling himself to calm down. 

You make yourself comfortable on the bed before opening your book.

He never should have asked to partner up. He’s a man with little willpower and knows he doesn’t have it in him to not hit on you. “Way to torture yourself, Seresin.” 

You feel him staring from across the pool and hope your heavily shaded sunglasses hide that you're also stealing glances at him. You regret bringing a romance novel because, of course, the main character is a cocky, blond cowboy, and your brain immediately Jake codes him.

Your phone chimes, startling you as if someone physically scolded you for staring and fantasizing about your Lieutenant.

>Phoenix: How’s it going? Kissed him yet? 

<Cosmo: What?! No. 

>Phoenix: He kissed you yet? 

<Cosmo: No, and he won’t. More importantly, I don’t want him to. 

>Phoenix: 🙄please. You’ve been crushing on him since you arrived. Go for it. No one has to know.

<Cosmo: Why do I suddenly feel like this is a set-up?

>Phoenix: You have to know none of us even tried looking for the stuff because we wanted you to win. Who do you think told Jake the ice cream answer? Coyote. Who do you think told Jake where to find you at the mall? Me.

<Cosmo: What? Why? 

>Phoenix: Baby, I love you, but you can be so blind sometimes. You like Jake. You can deny it all you want but I think you're being stubborn because you don’t want him to be able to say I told you so. 

<Cosmo: Phoenix, honey, I love you too, but setting me and Jake up so you and Coyote have a couple to double date with is not going to happen. 

>Phoenix: We’ll see. Love you. Have fun. 😜

“I need a drink,” you say, slamming your book closed. 

Jake watches you typing away on your phone, a slight crease in your brow. It’s adorable, and while he daydreams about what he could do to smooth it out, he receives a text. 

>Coyote: Proposed yet?

<Hangman: Screw you. I’m not that into her.  

>Coyote: 🙄please. You’re so blinded by how much you’re into her you can’t see how much you’re into her. 

He doesn’t have a witty retort because he’s confided, seemingly too much, in Coyote. Coyote’s encouragement won’t help matters, and he promised himself he’d behave. You have rejected his advances more than once, and he needs to accept that nothing is going to happen.

>Coyote: Seriously, dude, now is the perfect time to show her you’re more than your smart mouth and shiny abs. 

Jake needs to shut this down before Coyote twists his arm just enough to convince him.

<Hangman: Hi Phoenix 🙄. 

>Coyote: She says hi and go get your girl already.

Jake closes his book. He won’t be able to concentrate now. He sighs loudly, “I need a drink.” When he looks across the pool again, you’re pulling on your oversized tee and collecting your things.

Part 2 - The Full Seresin Service

Tags + Info

@alexxavicry / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @imjess-themess / @justagirlinafandomworld / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @shanimallina87 / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @xoxabs88xox / @dempy / @atarmychick007 / @genius2025 / @kmc1989 / @alipap3 / @emorychase

[wylinka]

Birthday meme for @appastan666, the biggest advocate for any and all p*kku slander and also for being so calm (and completely normal). Lots of love bb 🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳💖💖💖💖💖

[my-my-my]

KINKTOBER DAY 4 - Aphrodisiacs: Mayuri Kurotsuchi x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary: Captain Kurotsuchi needs bodies for his new inventions, and a random old shopkeeper in District 53 has clients to serve. Distribution of illicit drugs seems to transcend the World of the Living, with shinigami and regular souls alike, flocking to the market, but how does Captain Kurotsuchi test his products in the first place?

TW: MDNI! Abuse of power, Mayuri having no sense of ethical obligations as a researcher, what I think drug dealing/trafficking would look like in Soul Society, fictional recreational drugs, dubious consent, fondling, non-consensual drug use.

Word count: 2516

Read on AO3 here.

 “Kurotsuchi-san, thank you for the products last month. It was quite the hit with my customers.” The elderly woman prattled on as she hobbled around her store. Dried plants, herbs and bottles containing questionable liquid filled every nook and cranny of the shop.

“Did any of them report side-effects?” He asked, inspecting her wares, taking fistfuls of items into his haori’s pockets. He continued to rummage through the store, as the old lady watched in amusement.

“Aside from what you told me before hand, no, none did. They remarked they all felt refreshed.” To which Mayuri looked at her, then immediately grabbed something off the shelf behind her. “If you could make that batch again, it will be hit. I can find the ingredients that you need.”

“You will sell what I make.” Mayuri sneered, looking down at the old woman, “I don’t take orders.” But he continued to take things off her shelves.

The woman laughed, “yes, yes. Of course.” She walked over to where she kept her money and pulled out a small, yet heavy pouch, “this was the share from last month.” Mayuri held the pouch in his hand, opening it up and nodding at the money inside. “And of course, everything is on the house for you.” She smiled as he walked out of her store without as much as a goodbye.

Mayuri reviewed the notes he made about the different products he invented under the guise of “research” for the Gotei 13. A few members across the 13 squads knew of his backdoor research, but none dared to report him to the Head Captain.

For all intents and purposes, the Head Captain believed that Mayuri was conducting research for the betterment of Soul Society…

And it just so happens that some of his products fit in line with that thinking.

Technologies, therapies, interventions, Mayuri has done it all, but only a few of them ever see the light of day. Which is how he aligned himself with the herbalist on the outskirts of Rukongai District 53. She would distribute his products to the masses that travelled through her shop, and he would have a willing patient population to test his inventions. They would both profit off the success.

Last month’s product was some type of pain-relief liquid. This month he wanted to try something different.

Taking out all the items he had taken from the woman’s shop, Mayuri inspected each item carefully. Nemu and Akon approached him but left immediately as he shrieked at them to leave.

He trusted Nemu and Akon more than any of the other seated members of his squad, but this process was for him alone. No one was to interrupt him. And so, Mayuri continued his inspection, scrapping off bits of each item, suspending liquids in other liquids. He analyzed and tested different formulas, noting down each one.

Hours had passed, then days, and later weeks. Mayuri would only leave his lab if “the idiots” needed him for something. To which Nemu and Akon translated it as “anyone” outside the two of them that needed his attention.

But at last, his product was complete. Now he needed test subjects.

Mayuri walked along the corridors of the Shinigami Research and Development Institute, disregarding all the fuss and commotion they brought when they noticed him around. He paid no attention to them; they weren’t the test subjects he was looking for.

Instead he made his way to the connected, yet distinct, Squad 12 barracks. Not all his members were involved in the SRDI’s mandate, nor did he want them too, “that would be too boring.” He coldly explained the other captains, not knowing he just wanted soldiers to experiment on that weren’t working in the SRDI as well. That would make things complicated if an invention of his backfired.

You on the other hand, didn’t notice your captain immediately, as you were preoccupied bringing in large manuals of some chemicals for the institute. You dropped the heavy load when you heard Captain Kurotsuchi shriek your name.

Turning around, you bowed your head immediately to the man, “good morning, Captain!” You yelled. You didn’t want to admit it to you friends in other squads, but your own captain terrified you.

“What are your duties today?” Mayuri asked, peering at you as you remained bowed to him.

“I’m delivering these manuals to Lieutenant Akon, then picking up chemicals for Hiyosu, sir!” You answered, anxiety crawling through your body as you felt Captain Kurotsuchi stare at you intensely.

“Deliver these to Akon, then meet me in my lab, immediately. Ignore Hiyosu’s request.” “Yes, sir!” You yelled, watching him walk away, while you struggled to carry the manuals to Akon.

You fidgeted in front of the heavy, locked door to the captain’s personal lab. You weren’t sure if you should knock, announce yourself, or maybe the captain had a secret camera somewhere and didn’t see you there.

But without warning, the door immediately jolted open, scaring you. But you pushed through your fear and entered the lab.

There were numerous devices thrown around, with open bottles, of what you assumed were chemicals, covering several tables and lab benches. The lab smelt bizarre, but it wasn’t necessarily off-putting, yet it wasn’t sterile like you imagined it to be.

You saw Captain Kurotsuchi type something away, scoffing and typing faster. He glanced at you and then resumed typing. You stood there, waiting for him, as he continued to type. You tried to stifle a yawn as you looked around the lab again, “Sir, how long do I have to wait? Lieutenant Akon gave me some additional duties to attend to.” You politely asked.

“And when does Akon’s orders supersede mine?” Mayuri coldly said, the atmosphere of the room getting chilly as your anxiety was going into overtime.

“It doesn’t! I just wanted to be mindful, that’s all.” You nervously explained. You noticed you were sweating and tried to calm yourself.

“Are you nervous?” Captain Kurotsuchi asked, as he moved away from his computer. He stared at you intensely, his golden eyes scanning over your body, as if he was dissecting you.

“No! I’m not.” You lied, hoping your voice came across as confident.

The captain grabbed your hand and forced your wrist open, shoving an innocuous blue pill into your palm. “Take this, it’ll help with the sweat.”

You wanted to die. Your captain noticed you profusely sweating and commented on it. You stared at the pill, your hand slightly shaking, while anxiety filled you up again. Your gut began to turn as you brought the pill to your lips. A part of you doubted the pill would do anything but calm you down.

“Well on with it!” Captain Kurotsuchi yelled, “you said you didn’t have all day!”

“Y-Yes sir!” You stuttered, shoving the pill into your mouth. You struggled to swallow it, noticing your mouth was incredibly dry, but managed to get it down.

It was then Captain Kurotsuchi pushed you on to a chair, and wrist and ankle shackles were thrust on to you. “S-sir?” You asked, eyes bulging. Your anxiety was rampant. “What is this for?”

“It’s a test.” Captain Kurotsuchi said, watching you.

A test?! Your mind screamed. “Why am I being tested?” You pleaded, shaking in your seat.

Captain Kurotsuchi rolled his eyes, “not a test for you, fool. A test for the medication.”

“But you said it would help with my nerves!” You panicked, shaking even harder in your seat.

“In theory, yes, but it hasn’t been tested until now.” You began to hyperventilate at what you were hearing. Until… your brain felt like everything was going by slowly.

Huh? What’s going on? It was as if your anxiety melted away and you were faced with something… pleasant? You stared at your captain but were unable to say anything.

You heard him say something, you saw his lips move, but you weren’t processing what was said.

Captain Kurotsuchi approached you and inspected your body. He poked your face, prodded your chest and flicked your wrists. He took samples of your blood and saliva, while checking your dilated eyes.

Little did he realize; his touch was doing something to you.

You sighed, happily, “sir that feels so good” as you leaned into your seat. Your body felt sensitive, but not in pain. You didn’t notice the vials of blood he had taken from you already.

The captain looked at you in curiosity, and this time undid a portion of your uniform, leaving your chest bare. Another blissful sigh escaped your lips as Captain Kurotsuchi lightly touched your chest.

“Does this feel good?” The captain asked, grabbing your face. You grinned and nodded your head.

“It feels really good.” You mumbled, drool dribbling down your lips. You felt the familiar pangs of arousal flaring across your body, causing you to squirm.

Captain Kurotsuchi stepped back and watched you writhe, taking note of all the physical symptoms you were displaying. “What else do you feel right now?” He asked, staring at you.

But you didn’t respond, eyes glazed over as your hips moved within the confines of the seat. The motion you made felt good, too good you thought, and you needed more of that.

And so you proceeded to rock your hips back and forth, the friction from the seat rubbing against your growing arousal. You moaned loudly and threw your head back and continued on, your hips moving faster as you orgasm came closer. Captain Kurotsuchi sighed, approaching you once more. He slapped your face, to which you gave another loud moan. Your pace didn’t slack

You saw the captain’s lips move and felt something bind and secure your hips. You whined at the sudden loss; you were so close! Until you felt the cold hand of your captain down your pants. Your legs were already spread apart from the ankle shackles, leaving Captain Kurotsuchi with easy access. You groaned again as you felt him touch you.

Captain Kurotsuchi’s touch was merciless though, as he aggressively touched you, feeling your arousal spread against his fingers and in your pants. You then realized you didn’t feel the hip bindings anymore, and let your hips slam up and down the seat, his hand still touching you vigorously.

You bit your lip, and wondered if you tasted blood? You couldn’t tell, but everything felt amazing, yet surreal. It was then you felt the captain push his palm against you, rubbing more vigorously than before. The intensity was too much to bear, and you cried, your orgasm ripping through.

A scream erupted in the lab and Mayuri watched you slump into the seat, unconscious.

Captain Kurotsuchi removed his hand from your pants, inspecting the remnants of your arousal covering his fingers and palm. He pulled your hair, forcing your head up to his level, but you were out cold. He slapped your face again, but no response.

He scoffed at you, rubbing his hands on your uniform as if to clean them. Not satisfied, he washed his hands in the nearby sink. He watched you in the corner of his eye to track how long it would take you to wake up. Once he was clean, he undid the shackles and left you in your seat.

He proceeded to type away today’s event in his product diary. Roughly two hours had passed, and you awoke, which he noted. Your clothes were still on your body, albeit barely, but before you could register what just happened, the captain handed you another pill and you forgot what had even happened.

“I’m sorry about that Captain Kurotsuchi. Did you need me for something?” You asked, confused as to why you were sitting in a seat, and he was staring at you intensely.

“How’s your anxiety?” He asked, his eyes focusing on you.

My anxiety? You thought, “well, I don’t feel anxious right now.”

“Anything else?”

“Um…” you hesitated, trying to think, “my body feels relaxed, like I got a massage?” You tried to explain.

“Nothing else?”

“Not really. I feel fine.” You remarked, checking your body. You remembered taking a pill, then waking up.

“The pill you gave me…” you asked, as you fidgeted in your seat, “does it make you fall asleep after?”

“Yes.” Captain Kurotsuchi lied. “Now get out. You’re done here for the day.” He turned around and went back to his computer, typing away once again.

“Yes, sir!” You squealed, bolting out of his lab. “These soldiers today are a bunch of noisy imbeciles.” Mayuri muttered under his breath, as his lab doors shut close once again.

It was a rare moment to have a day off from your squad duties. Months had passed since the incident with Captain Kurotsuchi, and the memories of it fading from your mind. But you remained grateful to not have done any further direct work for him. Your friends, from other squads, had decided to visit District 53, as they heard rumours of an herbalist with unique concoctions that would heal the body, mind and soul. One of your friends admitted they were struggling with some intimacy issues and Squad 4’s treatment options weren’t working. Your friend had heard that this herbalist would have something to cure that.

You and your friends browsed through the shop, taking stock of what was there, when your friend spoke to the shopkeeper. Although they were quiet, you could hear whispers of “trouble” and “hard to orgasm.” The old lady smiled at them, “I have just the remedy for that, my dear.” You went over and saw her pack in a small bottle of familiar blue pills.

“I’ve had these before!” You exclaimed, “they work wonders. I felt amazing afterwards.”

Your friend stared at you in shock, but the shopkeeper gave you a wide grin, “is that so? I’ve been selling them for a while now.” The old lady rambled, “they’re quite popular with you Shinigami folk.” She cackled, packing the bottle into a pouch. “I’ll pass that along to the creator” she kept laughing, “I’m sure he’ll be ecstatic.”

“When did you take these?” Your friend asked, “you never mentioned it.”

You thought about it, but you couldn’t remember when exactly, but the vivid colour of the pill was seared in your memory, as well as the pleasant association you had with it. “I’m not sure, but I think I took it when I had a really bad anxiety spell. I don’t even remember where I got it from.” You said, trying to recall when and where you took it.

But nothing came up, and strangely enough, you couldn’t recall an blanks or gaps in your memory.

“Or maybe I dreamt it.” You laughed, “I can’t even describe the feeling anymore, I just remember feeling good when I took it.”

“Well if it’s good enough for you, then I’m sure I’ll be fine.” Your friend joked, paying the shopkeeper. Soon night was approaching, and you escorted your friend back to their barracks. Once you made it to the Squad 12 barracks, you made a mental note to ask Captain Kurotsuchi if he knew about the little blue pill.

Thanks for reading!! Mayuri is definitely an interesting character to write for, so I'm not completely sure I nailed it. Either way, I hope you guys enjoy it!

[marypsue]

Fearleading Squad, by Mary P. Sue

She was perfect... First, Avery's friends all started falling under the spell of the new transfer student from L.A. Perfectly...evil. Then, one by one, people started to disappear. What is Tiffany Bright's dark secret? Joining the cheer team seems like the only way to uncover the truth. But Tiffany's had her eye on Avery, too. And now she's got Avery right where she wants her...

Read Chapter One: Bad Moon Rising on AO3

Hey, remember the section of the library or the bookstore where all the R.L. Stine and Christopher Pike paperbacks for older teens were shelved? Remember rambling through that section and pulling them down so you could flip open the front cover with its little die-cut window and see the full cover painting in all its spooky, lit-from-below glory? Remember the lurid, absurd plot summaries full of murder, madness, and mayhem - all set in the glossy mallrat world of being a teenager in the late 80s and early 90s? Well, maybe you don't, but here's your chance to approximate the experience!

Evil cheerleaders, the Satanic Panic, high school friendship drama, and murder all combine to ruin an innocent gothic rocker's senior year in this short and sweet horror novella. If you liked Netflix's Fear Street trilogy, Grady Hendrix' My Best Friend's Exorcism, Heathers, Jennifer's Body, or the fan favourite new kids on the block from Stranger Things season four, this might be up your alley.

This original novella is complete, with six chapters and an epilogue. Updates will be posted every Thursday.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Characters in Costco

The title says it all, really.

[Previously: Cosmere characters in Ikea]

1. Wayne & Marasi

Marasi: Wayne...is that another new hat? Wayne: Why yes, dearie. I'm now Egrid Sternsberger, a little old lady who simply must try one of those mini hamburgers! Marasi: ...I think they'll give you multiple samples if you just ask. You don't have to keep switching hats. Wayne: Now, where would be the fun in that?

2. Shallan, Veil, Radiant

Radiant: Now, remember--it requires a majority vote before we make any big impulse purchases. Shallan: This vodka bottle is the size of my torso and will therefore last a long time. Veil: That's a good reason. Radiant: ...I'll just get another cart.

3. Ham and Dockson

Ham: Hey, do you know where Kelsier went off to? For that matter, where's Vin? Dockson: [Points silently upwards, to where Vin & Kelsier crouch on top of those big, metal, Costco warehouse shelves, mistcloaks rippling] Dockson: They like to be high. Ham: W-We're inside! How is there a breeze?!

4. Lift & Wyndle

Lift: Man, that was great! Lift: I stole food from every one of those little stands and nobody caught me! Wyndle: Mistress, like I keep telling you, those stands are giving away the free samples! There was no need to-- Lift: I am the greatest thief of all time!

5. Painter and Yumi

Painter: Please let me get another cart. Yumi: I said we don't need another cart! Painter: Y-You've stacked the cart so high that people are afraid to come within six feet of us! Yumi: Who do you think you're talking to? I can go way higher than this! Painter: Yumi please

6. Adolin & Kaladin

Adolin: Ta-da! What do you think? Kaladin: About your...clothes? Adolin: Yeah! It's all from here! Adolin: I got shorts with lots of pockets, this colorful buttoned shirt, this big hat, these sunglasses--even these cool plastic shoes with holes for airflow AND these socks! Adolin: I am going to revolutionize fashion. Kaladin: ... Adolin: What? Even Wit liked it! Kaladin: I'll be going now. Adolin: Wait! I got a matching outfit for you too! Kaladin come baaaack!

7. Tress & Charlie

Tress: Wow, this one is amazing too! Tress: It's a bit bent and a bit stained, but you can really see that it's been on a journey. Tress: Oooh! This one's an interesting shape! I think it was for strawberries! Charlie: Man, and to think they just give all of these cardboard boxes away for free!

8. Navani & Rushu

Navani: That is...quite the tower of toilet paper. Rushu: How do you suppose they get the top ones down? Some kind of machine, presumably? Do you think it's stacked for space efficiency or is it meant to inspire awe, as well? Rushu: ...Should I take one from the bottom to see what happens? Navani: ...Just grab one of the ones with the bear on it, for now. Rushu: Later then?

9. Rock & Skar

Rock: I love this place! All the food is sized for a while squad! Rock: Look at this! It's a cooked chicken the size of my HEAD! Skar: I found a rack of ribs that would take two men to carry! Rock: Tonight's stew will be a true wonder.

10. Nale and Szeth

Nale: And here is what I wanted to show you--this icon of justice. Szeth: ...A hotdog the size of my forearm? Nale: Yes. Nale: Do you understand what I am trying to teach you? Szeth: Hotdogs are...justice? Nale: This one is. Nale: The owner declared that the price would remain in stone, and that no change would be permitted while he yet lived. Nale: Lack of change? An enduring ruling? A man willing to stake his life on it? Nale: It is a hotdog of justice indeed, Szeth.

[tojisun]

you think everyone in the squad has contingency plans in case one of them turns out to be a traitor? of course it gets shelved as the years go by, but thinking about how every development in their relationship also bulks up that contingency plan; how each time they uncover each other’s secrets, pasts, aspirations, or even their what-if’s, those plans get updated or revised or renewed until it’s almost near perfect. i dunno but it sounds like something price started until, to shut off the spiralling of ghost’s mind, he shared it to him—“how will you go about defeating us, son?”—and then it became a tradition. they’re not particularly hurt about it because in their line of work, even those you trust—even those whose lips you felt on yours—could turn. betrayal hurts most, after all, when it comes from those you love.

[mushhroooms]

Bad Dream (Chris Redfield x Gender-neutral reader)

Gender-neutral pronouns because I know I write way too much x female reader stuff, so I wanted to do something different because I know it’s not just she/her’s in the Resident Evil community so this is for everyone!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈ Chris had left on a mission, caressing your face and kissing you sweetly before walking out the door

It had been months but you didn’t worry. He would find time to call you or send little texts to check up on you when he knew it was safe.

But then they stopped, you didn’t think much of it, he might just be occupied but, you tried to ignore the sense of dread that filled you after the third day, anytime Chris has gone on a mission, you never went more than a day without at least a text from him. You were worried, but you tried to hide it, surely he just had to be busy…

But then the knock came on the door and when you opened it, you saw the men in uniform. As you realize what had happened to your beloved husband you feel your heart drop. “We’re sorry for your loss…” After that, those words became normal, every time anyone who knew you and Chris saw you, they would tell you those words. This couldn’t be real, right? But after 2 months, the reality finally fully set in and your head came down from the clouds. Your husband was dead.

You didn’t leave bed that day, or the next day after that, or the day after that…

Chris was shocked when he and his squad returned from their mission and found out everyone had thought they died.

But- They had been talking to their loved ones… turns out, their phones were bugged months ago. They hadn’t spoken to real people besides each other in months, just simply robots to trick them. God, that guy had been a sneaky bastard.

They were all worried, everyone they knew thought they were dead.

Chris immediately thought of his partner… How had they taken the news? Were they ok?

Chris didn’t bother to wait, as soon as they were cleared he was in his car and speeding to their house.

When he pulls up, he can see your best friend at the door. Food in hand and worriedly knocking on the door. He gets out of the car, heart heavy and worried for his partner.

As your best friend hears his car door shut, they turn around, their eyes widen and they nearly drop the food in their hands.

“Chris!? You’re alive!?” They ask in shock

He nods “It’s a shock I know. Are they ok?” He asks worriedly

Your best friend shakes their head. “They won’t answer my calls or texts, not just mine, from anyone, even their parents.” They pause “How are you alive?”

“I’ll explain everything later.” He says as he begins to look through his bag.

Chris’s worry grows when they mention his partner has not answered anybody’s calls or texts and he fishes his keys out of his bag. Unlocking the door and opening it slowly, the house is dark and stuffy, The curtains are shut and he can see dust collecting on shelves and tables, but he also sees there are no dishes in the sink, Have they eaten? Drinken water?

Your best friend places the food on the counter while Chris heads upstairs.

He walks to the bedroom, bracing himself just in case of a worst-case scenario. His palm touches the door gently, and he hesitates. The worst cases running through his mind of what he’ll find on the other side of the door. But, he has to know… He gently pushes the door open, it creaks softly. He can see a lump on the bed under the blankets and dread fills him… What if they were dead?

“Baby?” He calls out softly

He sees movement and the dread that had filled him goes away. They were alive! But he’s still filled with worry for his partner.

They move the covers off their head. They looked exhausted despite the fact it was obvious they hadn’t left bed in god knows how long. They looked malnourished and in desperate need of a shower. Their eyes were puffy from crying. His heart broke at the sight.

“Chris?” Their voice is weak, probably from all the dust and nothing to drink. He can see the tears brimming in their eyes.

He rushes to the bed, kneeling next to the edge of the bed.

“It’s me- It’s me, baby” He speaks softly with his own tears growing in his eyes.

They shake their head “No- You can’t be real” They say shakily, thinking they must have gone crazy or died.

They sob “You can’t be real. You-” their words die down as he cups their face with rough, calloused hands crafted for war… but his touch is so gentle… so tender… so- so grounding.

They begin to sob harder “Chris!”

He gets onto the bed next to them and pulls them into his arms quickly, shushing them and running his hand through their hair.

“Shh, it’s ok, baby. I’m here now” He whispers softly

“But- How!? They-They-” He places a finger to their lips.

“I’ll tell you later, I promise. I just need to comfort you right now.” He puts their head against his chest and their sobs grow as they feel his heartbeat.

‘You feel that? You feel that heartbeat, sweetheart? I’m alive. And I’m not dead nor dying anytime soon.” He kisses their head as he continues to run his hand through their hair.

“I need you to tell me something, baby.” He says, pulling them away from his chest so he can look into their eyes.

They sniffle and wipe their eyes, looking at him.

“When was the last time you ate? Drinken water? Showered?” He asks softly with worry clouding his tone.

They look ashamed “I-I don’t know…” They speak softly “I-I just, I just wanted to stay in bed- I wanted to wake up and found out it was a bad dream!” They sob softly

His hands cup their face again “I understand, sweetheart. I’m sorry you’ve been going through this… But, I’m here now. Ok? I’m not leaving again anytime soon. It was just a bad dream.” He kisses their forehead.

His thumbs stroke their cheeks softly, wiping tears away as he does so. “I love you so much, sweetheart. I never ever want to see you like this again.” He whispers

They hug him, crying into his chest. His arms wrap around them tightly. They can feel his muscles against their back, his warmth, his heartbeat. This was real. He was here. He was alive.

“I love you so much, Chris.” They sob

“I love you too, baby. More than anything.” He whispers