#I wanted to rant about this scene for SO long

[lovelynim]

Play and replay

Zenless Zone Zero - Wise x Lighter

A/N: Last but not least, this piece is for you, friend ( @ticklystuff ). Hope you don't mind the fact that I stole one of your Lighter/Wise ideas for this one and that this fic can make it as a belated bday gift and for the fact that I missed your trip to brazil. Like you lots, even when you have poor taste on persona mcs

Aaaand on a side note, I'd like to thank @otomiyaa for letting me borrow a few scenes from her amazing story, The Mad Party, and use them on this little fic. If you want to know all the references, I wholeheartedly recommend you checking on this chapter (and reading the other ones too, the whole thing is great)

Summary: Lighter and Wise are watching a show together, but the scene on screen ends up putting Lighter in some sort of mood.

Word count: 1818

[Also on Ao3]

This was such a cliché move, Lighter thought, but he was glad it still worked just fine. He shot Wise a smile as he wrapped his arm around the proxy’s shoulder, pulling him closer and making a small, surprised gasp escape Wise’s lips.

“Lighter,” Wise pouted slightly, but still snuggled into the other man’s chest. There was no time to waste complaining, after all, he needed to finish this series to know what sort of show he was about to put up in his store. “You’re not paying attention.”

“Of course I am,” Lighter hummed back, tilting his head before he moved his eyes from Wise to the TV, again.

Lighter knew the video store was just a made-up business scheme so Wise and his sister could hide their actual work, but it was always a surprise to how much they were dedicated to the so called farce. Not only would the siblings collect tapes from all kinds, but would also spend their time watching each one of them. “How can I recommend something if I don’t know what it is about?” was Wise’s to go explanation whenever he was asked about it.

Still, this also gave Lighter the perfect excuse to spend more time with Wise. Guess this should also count as a cinema date? The champion smiled, losing himself to his thoughts while absently staring at the show playing on the TV.

What was it about again? He remembered Wise telling him about it, something about an adaptation of some best selling novel from before the Hollow Disaster. Unfortunately, he had paid more attention to how cute Wise looked while ranting about his work than the plot of the show itself. 

“Why is the cop so angry again?” Lighter mumbled, his eyes squinting slightly behind his shades as the scene playing didn’t seem to make much sense. He heard Wise sigh, annoyed. He chuckled, amused.

“Because of the flowers James sent him. Yuki even barged into the restaurant earlier because of it,” Wise explained - just like he did all the other times Lighter asked about the show. Lighter only hummed in agreement, as if he wasn’t dedicating most of his attention to Wise.

Squeezing the proxy a little tighter against his chest, Lighter leaned back into the couch. For the first time in a while, his eyes focused again on the show and - even if he was just watching a scene or two from time to time, it was clear why this thing was a best seller back then. It was good.

Letting himself be captivated by the show, Lighter watched with great interest as the actor playing the bartender walked outside to meet the cop near his car. The actors playing James and Yuki had an undeniable chemistry together and Lighter couldn’t help but imagine using the script behind some of those scenes with his dear proxy.

Brrr. Brrr. Brrr.

“Huh?” Lighter turned back to see Wise reaching for his phone, his face turning into a frown. “Is everything alright?”

Wise sighed, pushing himself back into his feet, his cellphone in hand. “Yes, I just… need to take this call. Wait here, I won’t take long,” he smiled sheepishly and left before Lighter could even say something back.

Lighter sat back, his face like a dog’s locked outside the house. Now, what was he supposed to do? This whole thing only made sense if he could have Wise around him. He clicked his lips, looking back at the show still playing on the TV.

The actors were making out, nothing out of the regular you’d expect. If anything, that scene made him miss Wise even more, but then…

[“Fuhuhuck! Jahahames! Lehet go ohohof mehehe!”

“Let go of you? Hey, you practically kidnapped me into your car, you pervert.”]

Lighter arched an eyebrow, feeling something swirl inside his stomach while he watched James’ actor tickle his stage partner. This was no different from kissing and other things, so why did this one feel… different? He coughed, heat gathering around his face while he paid even more attention to the show.

He wasn’t sure why he was feeling like that - maybe because the actors looked good or because the scene itself had its own appeal. One thing for sure, however, was that it made his thoughts run wilder than before. Lighter’s hand twitched, his fingers pressing into his thighs while a single thought took over his mind: do that to Wise.

[“If you want me to stop, do as I say.” 

“G-go to hehehell!”]

Lighter sighed, pressing his jaw slightly. How bad would it be if he left to look for Wise and-

Click.

He snapped back to reality, shaking his head before turning it to the room’s door, the source of that soft noise. Wise greeted him with a slight smile when their eyes locked. “I’m sorry, thanks for waiting.”

“No biggie, manager,” Lighter nodded, hooking his arm over the couch again, silently inviting Wise over again. “Did you get it solved?”

“Sort of,” Wise chuckled, quickly getting himself comfortable by the other’s side, his head resting on Lighter’s shoulder. “Anyway, can we go back a bit?”

“Huh?”

“I mean, the show,” Wise muttered, the TV’s controller already in his hand, “this episode had some good reviews and I wanted to watch it thoroughly.”

“Ah, sure,” Lighter gulped, tugging at his own collar with his other hand while he watched the show rewind a bunch of scenes at once. He let out a small sigh, his hand clenching around Wise’s shoulder.

[“Why so secretive, Johnson? Is this our secret date?”

“As if I’d give this back to you with everyone else looking.” ]

Lighter sighed. He couldn’t help but give in to the urge of peeking at Wise’s reactions after every change portrayed on screen. While it could be mistaken for boredom, a better way to portrait his feelings was… “expectation”.

He knew what was about to happen, how the scene was going to escalate and how the actors would start to make out and then-

“Is something wrong?” Wise nearly whispered, his voice gentle while his attention remained mostly at the show.

“Y-yes?” Lighter scoffed, hoping to sound convincing enough while he tried to play it cool. He heard Wise giggle at his answer, unsure if it was a good or bad sign.

“Your heart,” Wise continued, his head still resting against Lighter’s chest, “it’s beating fast.”

Damn it, Lighter thought, moving his hand to ruffle Wise’s hair gently. “It’s because of you,” he lied charmingly. It would be better to face a Hollow alone than admit something like that. But to Lighter’s demise, his heart wasn’t the only part of his body betraying him.

With each line spoken on screen, the anticipation grew worse, more and more intense. It didn’t take this long before, so why did it feel like there was a whole new chapter between the scenes?

He tapped his heel against the ground and clenched his fingers around Wise’s hair slightly. He wasn’t the kind to get second hand embarrassment from this kind of thing, not the one to cringe or fluster easily at the sight of affection - then why did going through this scene felt so much harder than before?!

“Manager,” Lighter gasped softly, his chest tight as if he was holding his breath up till now.

“Yes, Lighter?” Wise replied softly, tilting his head to look up to the other man’s face, “are you feeling shy because of the show?” He guessed playfully while Yuki’s actor giggled and mewled on screen.

Lighter only smiled, but felt something snapping inside him when he set his eyes on Wise’s mischievous grin. He wondered if Wise knew about this scene all along or if he had built some sort of resistance to these kinds of media. “I wanna do that.”

Wise slowly widened his eyes, taking a second to realize what Lighter meant. “Eh?” He looked at the screen, then back at the man next to him. “You mean the-”

“Everything,” Lighter insisted, his shades tilting down to the tip of his nose while he looked over them, his eyes narrowed while he reached to hold one of Wise’s hands. “Please?” He sighed, already pushing Wise onto his back and leaning on top of the proxy, easily towering over him.

He watched at least three different emotions make it past Wise’s face, his expression shifting while he exchanged looks between Lighter’s face and the still-playing show on screen. Was he wondering which character he was going to play? Lighter smirked.

“I- hah, w-well, I guess we could..?” Wise gulped, laying on one of his elbows before he even realized it. He was practically using Lighter as a pillow just now, but something about the sudden change in his attitude gave the small distance between them a whole new meaning. “So, do yohohou- h-hehey, Lihihighter- ahAHah!”

Lighter hummed pleased, his gloved hand lazily tracing shapes on and squeezing the smooth skin under Wise’s shirt. It was really this easy, huh, not some “it only happens in movies” thing, after all. He pinned Wise’s wrist next to his head while continuing to tickle his stomach and sides with his other hand, wearing a lovestruck, dumbfounded look on his face. “If I send some flowers over the store, will you come running to me too, manager?”

“L-LIHihihgther! I-it tihihickles, stohohop!” Wise giggled, but barely put effort in trying to run away or get in Lighter’s hand’s way. He sucked in his stomach, his body trembling with laughter under Lighter’s touch, but never really moved it away. “G-gehehet to the kihihissing pahahart, plehehease!”

“Aren’t we following the script, tho?” Lighter chuckled, his thumb pressing and rubbing a circle into Wise’s lowest ribs, making the proxy arch his back in a loud, surprised cackle. “Director said I need to tickle you a bit longer before making out.”

“NOHohoh!” Wise whined, his free hand clenching at Lighter’s shoulder while he kicked his feet behind him. Lighter wasn’t even going that hard on him, but something about it made him feel so sensitive, so vulnerable to his touch - was it because of the show? 

“L-Lighter, p-plehEHe- ahh… ahh…” Wise gasped when the tickling came to a sudden halt. Even with his mind in a daze, he could still feel the pressure of Lighter’s grip around his wrist. He felt the other man moving around and reaching for something, but even following him with his eyes proved to be a little difficult at that point. Wise turned his head to look at the TV, spotting the “paused” icon on top of the freezed scene.

“You can finish it later,” Lighter nodded, tossing the controller behind his shoulder before grabbing Wise’s other hand and pinning it as well. “Now… can we pick up from where we left it, manager?” Wise giggled, a bit in anticipation. “I will take that as a yes. ~”

[sweetmariihs2]

I squeeze into a small hole

Through the eyes of needles

To stitch you up again

Even though I know so well I can't fix anything

[...]

And I need you

And I need you

To understand

To understand

Sometimes I see light

And I fear it's only fantasy

Oh, wouldn't it be tragic

If there is no light in me, not any magic?

And I need you

To forgive me

If you can

I know the best I can

Isn't always good enough

It hurts to know I hurt you

Like I know it hurts for you to know you've hurt me

And now my blood is yours

And life is slowly losing touch

How do we learn to tend to

These invisible wounds our homes gave us?

I can't heal you

And you can't heal me

Even if we wanted to

And how I wanted to.

And I need you

To stop needing me

Like I've needed you

We both need to

Tend to the invisible wounds...

[bugisawesomeasf]

you fuckers are really hating on travis when hes literally a he/him lesbian, also the wilderness is literally a metaphor for girlhood do you really think it wouldve let him survive if he wasnt at least a little girl coded ?

[fallingbecauseofgravity]

decided to watch that spongebob time travel special and WAS THAT A MUSICAL REFERENCE??????

[thasorns-moved]

I cannot shake my thoughts about this and I’ll know I’ll keep this drama close to my heart. The fact that Myung ha’s ‘sunbae’ opened the riff to the world with the question “would you change it for me?” Also the fact that Myung ha’s alternate universe/game world started with the sound of an ocean tells already a lot about it but we won’t know until Episode 8 why. Throughout the series we watched Myung ha doing everything in his power to make Yeo woon happy while he himself couldn’t rely, couldn’t trust, couldn’t open himself up to him. We know the phrase of his ex gf “you don’t know how to love anyone.” left a deep scar in his soul which he carried with to the alternate universe/game. I try to think the system errors which occurred during the game was a way to change Myung ha’s mindset to not make the same mistakes and/or go on with his habitual habits he did in his life before he drowned himself. Also the different tasks was it actually for Myung ha to realize that he’s the one who makes Yeo-woon happy (which he didn’t). He retreated himself from Yeo woon because he couldn’t choose between the most important persons in his life as we saw his grandma died in real life which makes me think if he also knew that because in one sequence in the game/au it asked him if he wants to bring back some memories of Myung ha’s life. Also the last I love you from Yeo woon was the cherry on top to let the system completely crash where he distanced himself from Yeo woon. “I want to spend my remaining time making Yeo woon happy as best as I can. But it seems the more I try, the more unhappy I make Yeo-woon.” Which Myung ha remembers what Yeo-woon said: “whenever I see you, I both feel good and want to cry. I feel so much about every little thing. But I’m not happy at all right now.” Which again I try to think it is about why Myung ha doesn’t rely more on him? Why he doesn’t open himself up to him? A relationship is based off of trust, give and take… etc. but Myung ha goes into this relationship with deep rooted traumas which causes lack of self love. If one loves not itself enough how can they expect to love someone else which what explains Myung ha’s last phrase in the same scene so much. “Why did I think I could make you happy?” It’s as if he doesn’t think that a loner like him could be the one to give him love and happiness. What follows after is that he choses Yeo woon’s happiness even if he’s not his happiness… which again brings me to the beginning where Myung ha thinks “but I prefer lonely supporting characters to happy protagonists.” In this case he’s the lonely supporting character to our happy protagonist Yeo-woon. “But being fated to live that kind of life… is just so unfair.” He knew/knows how cruel life can be so he chose his happiness over everything and got vanished from the game. He realized by now that Yeo-woon is/was more important than he wanted to admit. Yeo-woon is/was a glimpse of happiness in Myung ha’s life. What brings us to the tragic backstory of his life and how he lived. All the obstacles he endured and went through led to his drowning (at this point we saw Yeo-woon’s obstacles in the alternate universe/game at least in my opinion). This is the turning point for Myung ha. “I was hoping if you saw yourself from someone else’s perspective, you would learnt to love yourself. I thought if you learned to love someone, you would be a little happier.” I want to make a reference here to the title itself “Love for Love’s sake” because all the sacrifices he did and cared more for others than himself… but he found happiness. In Yeo-woon. And he chose his own happiness for once. It’s the way he chooses all these things for himself, to open himself up for him, to rely and be cared for. “It would be nice to have someone. Someone who cares by my side. Someone who gives me chances when I fail and feel hopeless. It would be nice to have someone who always gives me love.” Which they found both in each other.

[zestyzigzagoon]

I don't care what anyone says, drabble writers are so incredibly skilled and undervalued in today's fandom. They're fitting an entire little scene in the space it takes me to say 'she closed the door'

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 6!!!

[bloodymyhands]

aegon and alicent being mirrors of each other in a twisted sort of way, he's the son most like her but also the one she "likes" the least. what an interesting, delicious dynamic, i absolutely love it

[astro-g0re]

Genuinely AI and character ai will never replace the absolute joy and excitement of planning out a whole plot and story with potential reactions, ideas, concept, and art with the other person

The people only using character ai really don't know the soul and fun that comes with doing actual roleplay that stays consistent and won't repeat the same sentence/motion a million times over

[everysai]

[cocococonutcat]

Okay, so the new hunger games is so bad actually i mean i knew it would be trash but this is just sad

[coern]

ok au scenario where the tenmas are country kids (sort of) (in a "grew up in a moderately sized farming village" way) (rare fantasy-esque au setup where the tenmas arent royalty lol) (probably still rich tho) which you can tell if you look close enough. would they call their parents some shit like mother/father or something like mama/papa. this is a very important question

[painsandconfusion]

Writers, here’s your reminder that you should be doing warm-ups!

Athletes need to warm up. Musicians need to warm up. Artists need to warm up. Heck, I even have to play a few matches in video games before I get into a groove every day.

Warm-ups help you get into the right headspace, give you more control of your actions and word choice, get you comfortable in your physical setting (eg: with your keyboard, notebook, tablet, or whatever you're writing with), and spark creativity.

Even if you don’t think you have spoons to write, sit down and do a couple warm-ups. If you still don’t want to, that’s alright. But. I think you’ll be surprised how often they help break that ice.

5-15 minutes is all you need. I personally set a timer for ten minutes each time and do not stop writing until the time is up. Your warm-up can be anything at all so long as it gets you writing and starts nudging those creative juices.

Here's some common warm-ups:

Journaling. Just jot down some notes about your day. Feel free to really lean into something that you noticed. We're going for description and details -- try to avoid settling into a spiral or focusing on something negative that will upset your creativity.

Short story prompts. Type that into Pinterest and pick the most ridiculous, cliche thing you can. Write a little scene, story summary, or even a rant about why you do or don't like the prompt. Just write.

Vocab challenge. If you like a bit more critical thinking to get you in the zone, have a random vocabulary word generator spit out five or so words. Check their meanings and jot down a little story or thought that includes all five. You get more familiar with beautiful and descriptive language, and it gives you a much narrowed prompt (which is lovely if you're like me and suffer each time there's an open-ended task assigned).

Character moments. Try putting your character into a generic setting and write down almost meticulously what their thought process would be. Follow them realizing they've just stepped in mud or dreading the start of the day. Pick a mundane thing and describe them working through it. This will not only get your writing going, but it will wake up the character's voice in your head.

Ongoing storytelling. Did you know that Whinnie the Poo was A.A. Milne's warm up story? He would jot down a quick little story with those very basic characters and did so every day. Whatever came to mind. He kept writing little tidbits on the same characters and eventually it turned into a series. Having that ongoing plot with isolated scenes and simple characters can help you feel more motivated to sit down and write.

Get-to-know-you-questions. Google a list of basic first-date questions (there are a million out there) and answer one yourself. Go into specifics. Where do you most want to travel and why? Let yourself ramble until the question is fully answered.

Writer's block blues. This is a favorite of mine. If you're truly stuck, write about being stuck. Eg: 'I'm supposed to write for ten minutse, but that feels so stupid and impossible. No one is goign to read this anyway. I have no ideas and the page is so overwhelming when its blank. I used to be able to write on and on and nothing could stop me. it was like breathing. but now I have nothign and do nothing and I can't even do a stupid prompt-' Even the rambling and ranting got me writing. It made things easier. It made writing this post easier. Also -- notice the typos? Yeah, don't fix those. You're in writing mode, not editing mode when you're doing this. If you edit while you write, you're forcing yourself to stay in your executive and calculating headspace rather than falling fully into creativity and dream. Ignore the mistakes. That's for future you to handle.

I've officially rambled far too much, but I hope that helps even a little bit. Live well and write often, my friends. Best of luck to you <3

[kamuro-junrenka]

I may have trash-talked yakuza 8's story way too much now that im playing lost judgment... i mean considering how much i said i hate it i did play the fuck out of that game and i cant even play a full hour of lost judgment orz

[all-my-love-for-harry]

The Pilot’s Private Song.

pairing; Jake Seresin x wife!reader

summary; How each member of the Dagger Squad found out Jake's been married for over a decade.

word count; 3.6k

warnings: nothing. established relationship, secret/private marriage, found family, fluff, all good stuff.

a/n; i am a SUCKER for a secret relationship trope. this concept is so cute i want to write a hundred different pieces about it. also, if you're reading my jake series, next part should be up tomorrow :))

masterlist

A year after the Uranium mission, the aviators once known as the Dagger Squad were summoned back to Miramar. Expecting another top-secret assignment, they were instead offered something unexpected: a chance to stay on at Top Gun indefinitely. Their answer was almost immediate—a resounding yes, with an enthusiastic "hell yes" from Fanboy.

But when they arrived, one thing was clear: Jake hadn't accepted the offer yet.

"Can't believe Hangman's playing hard to get with Admiral Simpson," Phoenix muttered, eyeing the empty spot where he should’ve been.

"Bet that promotion to Lieutenant Commander already went to his head," Rooster quipped.

"If you’re talking about Jake, he’s coming," Maverick said. "He just asked to report in on Monday."

He left the room without another word. The Daggers exchanged looks, then shrugged. It was Jake, after all—he probably just wanted to make an entrance, with nothing but his damn ego walking through the door first.

When Monday rolled around, he strolled in with that trademark smirk and a swagger only he could pull off. Annoying? Absolutely. Eye-roll inducing? Without question. Missed? More than anyone was willing to admit.

“Be honest—did you tear up a little when you thought I wasn’t coming back?”

Bob and Phoenix.

Bob had a thing for those absurdly healthy smoothies from a place called Erewhon. Overpriced, organic, and influencer-approved—it was his guilty pleasure. Naturally, it wasn’t long before he dragged his favorite front-seater into it.

“What the hell is a Hailey Bieber Strawberry Glaze Skin Smoothie, and why does it cost twenty bucks?”

The line was a nightmare—packed with people who all looked like they drove Teslas, had just come from Pilates, or were on their way to pitch a startup to their fiancée’s hedge fund bros.

Phoenix couldn’t quite figure out what Bob saw in these overpriced green sludge drinks, but she was usually down to try something new, even if her wallet cried a little every time.

“I don’t really get the hype either, but my husband’s obsessed,” You said with a shrug. “If it’s your first time, I’d go with something simple—maybe the pitaya, or the post-workout one is solid too. You look like you work out.”

They startled slightly when you turned around, smiling and introducing yourself after your unsolicited smoothie rant.

“I’ll take your advice—I’m Natasha,” Phoenix said, shaking your hand. It was only then that you noticed the massive emerald-cut ring on her finger, catching the light like it knew it was expensive. Bob followed with a shy introduction, a soft blush creeping into his cheeks.

Sticking to your word, you went ahead and ordered the absurdly named Hailey Bieber Strawberry Glaze Skin Smoothie, along with a few other things. Once you paid, you turned back to them with a grin.

“If you’re free, my husband’s just parking the car—want to sit and chat for a bit?”

“Oh, we’d love to,” Phoenix said, “but we’re running late for a few apartment showings—this line took forever. But we should exchange numbers, maybe grab lunch sometime?”

“I’d love that! We actually just moved here, so it’d be nice to make some friends.” Your smile didn’t waver; wide, bright, and straight out of a movie scene.

After saying your goodbyes, you grabbed your order and stepped out of the line, letting them move forward. With one last wave—bright, effortless—you pushed through the door and disappeared into the sunlight.

Phoenix turned back to the cashier, halfway through her order, when her gaze drifted to the large front window—and froze.

"Holy shit."

Bob instinctively looked where she was staring, and his brows shot up so high they nearly vanished into his hairline.

Jake Seresin was outside, casually leaning against a matte black Jeep Wrangler like he belonged in a magazine ad. Arms crossed, aviators in place, his flight jacket unzipped just enough to hint at the crisp white tee underneath. That usual cocky smirk was on his face—or at least, they thought it was.

But it wasn’t a smirk.

It was a smile—wide, open, and so bright it looked like it had cracked straight through his usual armor. Jake Seresin was glowing. Radiant. Practically lit from within.

And then they saw why.

You stepped out into the sunlight, heading straight for him, holding that ridiculous Hailey Bieber smoothie like it was a gold medal. Jake’s face lit up even more. He threw his head back and laughed, his whole body moving with it—unrestrained, joyful, real.

Then he reached for you, pulling you into his arms with the ease of someone who’d done it a thousand times. One hand at your waist, the other settling on the small of your back, fitting you against him like you belonged there.

Phoenix’s jaw dropped slightly. Bob just stared.

Jake lifted his sunglasses, pushing them up onto his head, and looked down at you like you hung the stars. The softest expression they had ever seen on his face—like the man didn’t know how to look away. You said something that made him laugh again, and you handed him the smoothie like it was some inside joke.

They must have been staring too long. Jake’s head turned slightly—just enough to catch them in the reflection.

His eyes found theirs through the glass. For a split second, something flickered across his face.

Surprise. Panic. Maybe even guilt. Just enough to register—before he shoved it back down and straightened up, as if nothing had happened.

He opened your door and helped you in, careful not to jostle the armful of overpriced smoothies and whatever else you’d picked up. Then he turned back toward the window, his eyes meeting theirs once more.

A subtle nod. Barely there. But it carried weight—an unspoken request.

Not for secrecy exactly, but something quieter. A plea to let it be. To pretend they hadn’t just seen past Hangman… and caught a glimpse of Jake.

Phoenix and Bob exchanged a long look, sipping their drinks in stunned silence as they tried to process what they’d just witnessed. It was easy to box Jake in as the poster boy for cockiness—the walking embodiment of swagger and ego—but deep down, they’d always suspected there was more.

More to him than the sharp one-liners and smug grins. More than the call sign.

And now, they’d seen it.

Guess this was it.

The next day, Jake showed up with his usual swagger, every step as self-assured as ever. But his eyes—sharp, watchful—carried a flicker of guardedness. It was subtle, the kind of thing only Phoenix and Bob would pick up on.

“Hey, Strawberry Glaze,” Phoenix said casually.

She could’ve let it slide—pretended like nothing had happened—but she couldn’t resist poking at him just a little. Jake shot her a look sharp enough to make most people flinch.

She just laughed.

The words had been soft, low enough that no one else could hear. And the smile she gave him—amused, knowing, a little smug—said it all:

Your secret’s safe with me.

2. Bradley.

Bradley hated shopping. He wasn’t good at it—never had been. He took forever to decide what he liked, forgot to write down what he actually needed, and always left the store with random things and none of the essentials.

This time, though, he had a mission: crockery. At the moment, he owned exactly two plates and three mismatched forks. And if he was serious about settling down here, it was probably time to get his shit together.

Normally, he’d drag Nat along—not because she was a woman and supposedly knew about this stuff, but because she was mean enough to keep him on task. She had no patience for his two-hour deep dives in the mug aisle, where he’d examine every single one before deciding he didn’t like any of them.

But Nat had bailed on him, leaving him to fend for himself. Now he was aimlessly wandering the store, eyeing every dinnerware set like it might reveal the meaning of life, tossing random items into the trolley with no real plan—just vibes and mild confusion.

Ever the gossip, Bradley’s ears perked up at the sound of a laugh he knew far too well.

Hangman.

“Darlin’, if you put one more candle in the cart, I’m gonna start thinking you’re trying to burn the house down.”

“But Jake, smell this one—it’s amazing. And it says limited edition, so they won’t have it next time,” you replied, dropping not one, but two candles into the cart.

Bradley watched, stunned, as Jake didn’t even argue. He just shook his head with a helpless smile and kept pushing the cart like a man who knew resistance was pointless.

“I also saw this gorgeous botanical garden plate set online—we have to get it.”

“Whatever you want, doll,” Jake said, voice low and warm as he pressed a kiss to your temple and gave your hip a casual, affectionate tap.

Bradley was pretty sure his jaw hit the floor. He wasn’t stupid—and he definitely wasn’t blind. He saw the massive rock on your finger and the way Jake looked at you like you hung the stars.

Hangman, married?

The motherfucker was married.

He could hardly believe what he was seeing.

Bradley had always assumed Jake Seresin was the type who’d never settle down—too cocky, too stubborn, too Hangman. Honestly, he’d half-expected the guy to grow old alone, flirting with waitresses and arguing with air traffic control until the bitter end. Harsh? Maybe. But Jake had never given them any reason to believe otherwise.

Yet here he was—married, domesticated, and currently letting his wife toss candles and dinner plates into the cart like she owned the place. And judging by the look on his face, she did.

The man Bradley was low-key stalking from behind a shelf of overpriced wine glasses wasn’t the Hangman he knew from the skies. This wasn’t the ruthless, lone-wolf aviator who treated teamwork like a contagious disease and would rather eat glass than back down in a briefing.

No—this Jake looked… soft. Happy. In love.

And it was messing with everything Bradley thought he knew.

He ducked behind the endcap as you turned down the next aisle, nearly knocking over a pyramid of mason jars in the process. This wasn’t eavesdropping, he told himself—it was reconnaissance. For team cohesion. For morale. For… reasons.

Jake Seresin, hopeless romantic and candle mule, was not something Bradley had mentally prepared for.

He peeked around the corner again just in time to see Jake reach for a throw blanket you were eyeing. Without hesitation, he tossed it into the cart. “Matches the couch, right?” he said.

“Exactly,” you beamed, and Bradley swore the corners of Jake’s mouth lifted in something dangerously close to a fond sigh.

Who was this man?

Bradley had spent years knowing Jake as a walking testosterone complex with aviators and a call sign, someone who’d charm the hell out of a bartender and then ghost her before the first date. The idea that this man—this patient, domesticated, grocery-hauling version of Jake—existed at all was blowing his mind.

And worse? He looked good at it. Like he’d been waiting his whole life to play husband in a West Elm ad.

Bradley finally backed away from the aisle, muttering to himself, “I need to go look at forks before I lose my grip on reality.”

Still, as he wandered toward the kitchen section, a weird feeling settled in his chest—part disbelief, part amusement… and maybe a little bit of envy. Not the kind that stings, exactly, but the kind that pokes at something you didn’t realize was hollow.

Because despite all his jokes, all his gripes about shopping and settling down, maybe there was a tiny part of him that wouldn’t mind someone tossing limited-edition candles in his cart, either.

But first, he really needed more than three forks.

3. Payback and Fanboy.

It was just past 7 a.m. when Fanboy and Payback jogged down the beach trail, sneakers thudding lightly against the packed sand. The sun had barely risen, casting a warm, golden glow over the shoreline, and the waves rolled in slow and steady, their rhythm soft and soothing beneath the buzz of gulls overhead.

It was the kind of morning that made you forget how exhausting the week had been.

“If Mav makes us watch one more hour of grainy debrief footage, I’m walking into the ocean,” Fanboy grumbled between breaths, arms swinging loose at his sides.

“You say that, but last time he caught you checking your phone, he added another hour to the session,” Payback replied, grinning.

“I’m just saying—death by drowning would be less painful than another slideshow.”

They rounded a gentle bend in the trail, where the dunes opened up to a more secluded stretch of beach. The tide had pulled back, leaving wide, smooth patches of sand dotted with seashells and a few early footprints.

Payback slowed, frowning. “Wait. Who’s already out here?”

A large cream-colored blanket had been spread beneath a sun-bleached lifeguard stand. A wicker picnic basket sat off to one side, its lid open and lined with fabric. There were iced coffees, a brown paper bag, a small vase of wildflowers—wildflowers, at the beach—and two people.

One of them crouched near the cooler, pulling out what looked like a container of fruit. The other approached barefoot, holding two drinks, sleeves of a linen shirt rolled up to his elbows, light catching in his sandy hair.

Fanboy’s eyes narrowed. “Hold on a second…”

The barefoot man looked up—and grinned.

Jake Seresin.

Hangman.

Golden-boy aviator, squadroom shit-talker, human ego parade.

Except… something was different.

He stepped forward, took one of the iced coffees from your hand with a quiet thank-you, then leaned in and kissed your temple with the kind of easy, familiar affection that made both Fanboy and Payback freeze mid-stride.

Jake said something with a lazy smile and you laughed, the kind of laugh that came from your belly—bright, genuine, totally unfiltered. Then you plopped down on the blanket, legs curled underneath you, pulling a croissant from the paper bag as if you’d done this a hundred times.

And maybe you had.

Because Jake didn’t hesitate. He shrugged out of his jacket and laid it behind you, just in case the blanket wasn’t enough cushion. Then he sank down beside you, stretching his legs long across the sand and casually slipping one arm around your waist.

Payback immediately ducked behind a nearby dune like he’d just witnessed a war crime. “Tell me I’m not seeing this.”

Fanboy crouched next to him, equally stunned. “What the hell is happening right now?”

Jake leaned back slightly, watching you unwrap something else—probably another baked good—and tilted his head, resting his chin lightly on your shoulder. You fed him a bite without even looking, and he accepted it like it was second nature. Then he reached up and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“I’m in shock,” Fanboy whispered. “He just tucked her hair behind her ear. That’s a boyfriend move.”

“That’s not a boyfriend move,” Payback muttered. “That’s a married guy move.”

Fanboy squinted. “Wait—zoom in. Look at her hand.”

A glint of metal caught the sunlight as you reached for your coffee. Simple but elegant. An emerald-cut diamond, gold band. The kind of ring that said permanence. The kind of ring that didn’t come off easily.

“Oh my God,” Payback breathed. “He’s married.”

Jake leaned back again, one hand lazily tracing circles along your knee while you showed him something on your phone. Whatever it was made him chuckle low in his chest, and he leaned in to kiss your cheek before setting the coffee down in the sand.

Fanboy was frozen, processing. “So Hangman—Hangman—sneaks off on weekends for romantic beach picnics… with his wife.”

“And we never knew.”

“I thought he lived off protein bars and sheer arrogance.”

“Same.”

You pulled something else from the basket—what looked like a floral plate set, one of those whimsical ones you’d find in a lifestyle magazine. Jake took it from you with care, set it between you, then reached for the wildflowers, adjusting the little vase so it wouldn’t tip over.

Fanboy stared. “He brought flowers.”

Payback shook his head. “He packed a goddamn centerpiece.”

They both crouched lower behind the dune, as if Jake might sense them. The only thing louder than the waves at that moment was the sound of their worldviews shattering.

Fanboy finally whispered, “Okay, but like… how dare he be this soft and not tell us?”

“We’re his squadmates. This is betrayal.”

“We were supposed to know before the blanket picnics started. There’s an order to these things.”

“I mean—what’s next? He gets a dog and starts doing couples yoga?”

Fanboy paused. “He would be good at couples yoga.”

Jake leaned back, hands behind his head, face turned up to the morning sun as you laid your head on his chest, sipping your drink and humming along to some song playing quietly from a speaker. You looked perfectly at ease, like this was your favorite part of the week.

Like he was.

“Okay,” Payback muttered. “We can’t tell anyone.”

“Agreed.”

“But also,” Fanboy added, eyes still wide, “we are absolutely never letting him live this down.”

“Obviously.”

They finally stood, dusting off their legs, still stunned but grinning. One last glance over their shoulders showed Jake pressing a kiss to the top of your head, like you were the only person on earth that mattered.

Hangman hadn’t just settled down.

He’d crash-landed into love, and apparently? He was thriving.

4. Javy (ten years ago)

The bar was thick with smoke and the smell of spilled beer, its low-ceilinged walls pulsating with neon light and the steady beat of a bass-heavy pop song. The air was warm and sticky, full of laughter, shouting, and the occasional off-key karaoke warble daring to take the stage. Jake leaned casually against the back wall, arms crossed, eyes never leaving the corner where you and your friends were holding court.

You were the heart of the group—laughing without restraint, glass in hand, your voice rising clear and confident above the din. Your friends egged each other on to the microphone, but you owned the room like it was yours, moving effortlessly through the crowd, radiating that kind of joy that was impossible not to notice. Jake’s gaze softened as he watched you—like you were a secret he had stumbled upon, the kind of thing you didn’t want to shout about but couldn’t stop looking at.

Javy, never one to let an opportunity for teasing pass, nudged Jake sharply. “You been staring at her all night, man. You planning to say something or just get a reputation as the creepy aviator?”

Jake barely glanced at him. “I’m just… watching.”

Javy smirked, shifting on his feet. “Right. Watching. She’s having fun—seems like she owns this place. You gonna sing or what? Or just keep mooning over her?”

Jake’s jaw tightened, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “I don’t sing.”

“Everyone sings at karaoke night. Even you.”

Before Jake could respond, you stood with your friend, grabbing the microphone like it was a lifeline. The opening notes of a popular pop song spilled through the speakers, and suddenly, the bar seemed to hush just enough to let your voice soar.

You sang with an easy confidence, playful yet sincere, the kind of performance that made people stop talking and just listen. Jake felt his breath hitch—the way you smiled at the crowd, the way you closed your eyes briefly on the high notes—it was like watching sunlight break through storm clouds.

Javy elbowed him hard. “Dude, you look like you’re about to pop the question right here, right now.”

Jake shot him a sharp look. “I just met my wife.”

The words slipped out quieter than intended, but Javy caught them all the same and grinned wider, clearly not buying it.

After your song ended, the room erupted into applause. You laughed, cheeks flushed, and caught Jake’s eyes from across the room. It was a brief glance, but electric—like a door quietly opening.

Jake made his way over, weaving through the small crowd until he was standing right beside you. “Hey,” he said, voice low and just above the music.

You smiled, a little breathless. “Hey.”

Jake nodded toward the microphone stand. “That was… impressive.”

You shrugged, flicking your hair back. “Well, I had a good duet partner.” You glanced at your friend and winked. “But it’s nice to have an audience.”

Jake laughed softly, eyes never leaving yours. “So, what’s your name?” You offered it to him, along with your hand to shake. “Jake,” he replied, taking it. His grip was firm but gentle, like he was trying to make sure you felt it. “And I’m supposed to be focused on training missions, but I can’t stop watching you.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Is that so? What’s more distracting—the music or me?”

He smiled, just a little crooked. “Definitely you.”

You laughed, and the sound was like a spark in the dim bar light. For a moment, it was just the two of you—no crowd, no noise, just the hum of a song fading out and the start of something new.

Javy sidled up, grinning. “I’ll leave you lovebirds to it. But remember, Jake, if you break her heart, I’m coming for you.”

Jake’s grin turned serious. “I don’t plan on breaking anything.”

You looked up at him, feeling a flutter you hadn’t expected. “Good.”

[femmeftal]

✦̲ broken doll

pairings ★⁺ : viltrumite mark x reader

warnings ★⁺ : creampies, drugging, sex scene is rush cause i want to eat my SALAD. slight choking.

Viltrumite!Mark who asks for your hand, knowingly already having the answer even if your shook your head, said no or anything else he would still fly you away to viltrum keeping you safe and sound there like a doll.

Viltrumite!Mark that can never stand to see his precious darling starve themselves so that mark can leave them alone, that being their worst idea of escaping because now mark is around them 24/7 making sure they eat, drink, wash up and be taken care of

Viltrumite!Mark who after leaving for missions and heading back home he takes small trinkets from the word they invaded, always ranting on how it reminds you of him.

Viltrumite!Mark that can see the survival in your eyes, assuring you he wouldn’t dare lay a hand on his porcelain doll forcing you into an unwanted embrace which has you shuffling to escape, obviously failing from the superhuman strength that he is equipped with. Your doe eyes watering up from being held so long, and obviously getting defeated from the purpose of escaping.

Viltrumite!Mark who has a stern grip on you when you guys sleep in the same bed, his arms wrapped around your waist, head buried into your hair so every time he breaths in mark could only smell you.

Viltrumite!Mark that is the same man who acquires you both to strip before bed, being nakedly pressed together. his excuse is that he needs you both to have your natural heats together, so when you refuse his eyes turn colder than they usually are.

Viltrumite!Mark that caresses your face after you’ve been caught escaping, not wanting to he has to punish his darling.. how will their little head learn from whats wrong and whats right, obviously he has to baby trap you! what else is there to do ?! :((

Viltrumite!Mark who is waiting for your cycle which he had called “ heat “ to be around the corner, knowing how it worked he knew how bad your ovulations were. already having a plan to have you bounce onto him.

Viltrumite!Mark who’s plan is successful, his eyes filled with lust when the aphrodisiacs starts kicking in pretty face for you, of course the drugs on viltrum are way stronger than on earth. you looked so desperate too begging him to fuck you.

Viltrumite!Mark that is getting so hard from the sight of your reddened face, watery big eyes staring up at him while being placed onto your knees. the rough ground grinding into them, god you were so vulnerable.

Viltrumite!Mark whose bulge you push your face on, the fat of your cheeks being pushed up showing the outline of his pulsing hard thick cock that was hidden underneath the cloth that was occasionally worn .

Viltrumite!Mark who’s hands are all over your curves, the same hands that was used to kill people were the same hands that were fondling the fat of your ass cheeks.

the same man who had probably ripped through his enemies flesh with his teeth was battling you through out the kissing session teeth clacking against each other, tongues even struggling to the point where the kiss started to turn into an open mouth kiss.

Viltrumite!Mark that is gripping onto your jaw to make your loud moans shut up, you were practically screaming when the two of his thick fingers inserted into your hole prepping you for the inches you NEEDED to prepare for, body pressing deep into the bed

Viltrumite!Mark who starts to kiss you while you’re about to cum, body twitching in satisfaction, moans getting louder from every curl of his fingers hitting the exact spot every single fucking time.

Viltrumite!Mark that rips the clothes off your body, making your nipples and newly fingered hole feel the cold breeze hit your body, shivering you’d arch your back putting your legs up into the air “ pwease..m’ it hurts “ that did it for him, fuck he could smell your arousal that was pooling up.

Viltrumite!Mark that is now naked was in front if you, stroking his cock.. he was at least 8 inches long and pretty thick. the whimpering would tell him everything he needed to know, god you were absolutely desperate holding legs so he could insert his fat cock into you.

Viltrumite!Mark who is finally towering over your heated body, tip hovering at your pulsing hole. “mgh.. put it inn “ obeying your command his hand rested at your neck making it the most beautiful necklace he has given you in a while, the push of his hips

were lethal. feeling how just the tip made your head spiral, mark stared at your trying to make sure he could start pushing himself deeper

“ mark mm.. “ your teeth caught onto the bottom of your lips showing how much pleasure you took into this, the rough grabbing of your hands digging their nails into his hips confirmed how much you needed his cock to insert you deeper

“ OH fwuckmgh- “ your hands were shaking, you couldn’t hold onto your legs anymore like this from how deep he just slammed down into you, lewd wet sounds bounced off the white room you and mark were fucking in. caging your head into his neck he could feel his tip hit your spongey walls a spot that made your loud groans turn into louder squeals, knowing how to pleasure a little vixen like you “ tell me you’ll never leave me again and i’ll continue vixen. “ chest heaving up and down mark rested waiting for you to admit defeat which you did “ i won leave! promise i wont just fuck me “ tearing up because of the soreness of not being taken care of was exhausting, sniffling and trying to caress his face so he could at least budge or thrusting, and you were right his fingers clamped onto your nipples. you felt your juices on those same fingers that he fingered you with, twisting them or putting them into his hungry mouth. your little cock drunk brain couldn’t focus on both of his actions crying out when you could feel mark starting to pull his hips back and slam them right back in, throwing your head back into the small pillows that accommodated you for stuff like this. “mark! yesh just right there ouhh “ he was hitting that spot over and over, squinted eyes staring down at you while you “ you’re such a fucking sight.. im gonna give you my heir so i make sure you wont leave “ he mumbled under his breath, groans and whimpers covering up his malicious sentence. pressing your legs up higher to access deeper, obviously getting somewhere when he felt nails scraping and digging into his abs and holy shit he was doing a huge number on you. “ wan cum please make me cum mark! “ groaning even louder he closed his eyes tight, the grip on your legs slightly tightening. you’d watch him correct his posture soon being surprised from the ruthless thrusting of his hips, the wet smacking sounds each time your guys hips met had drowned you. the band in your stomach trying to not snap but it was so impossible to do when his tip was ruthlessly hitting your g spot carelessly. “ m cumming! fuck markk “ and cumming you were, your cum started to form around his cock making a white ring that was painted around his cock “ shh..fuck “ he couldn’t contain himself either it looks like or sound likes, hips stuttering and abs tensing up” be ready im gonna- fuck hell yea “ he came, it was too much for your loaded hole to take, cum even dribbling out your worn out and used hole.

all work owned by @femmeftal , requests open