#and those are the ones bubbling up right now and the fact i gotta wait thru a whole nother sleep before i can actually have that talk

[youlikegoodstuff]

Their anniversary (prologue)

All Might x arch nemesis! reader

Gender is neutral here. Reader is a villain called Highland Havoc

Summary: it’s All Might’s and his nemesis’s anniversary, and the fans are done waiting for the villain and hero duo to kiss.

Tw: none. Just a tensions and shipping. Swear words. Stolen stop signs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“It Is Fine Now. Why? Because I Am Here!”

As always, All Might made a dramatic and enthusiastic entrance, even after years of duking it out with you.

“Took you long enough. You’re usually very early to our anniversary.” You said with a smirk on your half-masked face.

All Might’s signature smile only widened at this as his hidden eyes took on a slight mischievous look.

“My apologies, my arch nemesis! Allow me to make it up to you by making a special reservation for you in jail!” He said rather lightheartedly.

The bystanders who chose to stay looked on in anticipation, ready for an absolutely glorious battle like the ones before.

“Oh no worries! You don’t gotta make it up to me.” You said with a wicked grin before launching yourself at the man.

If it was anyone else, they wouldn’t last a second in the presence of All Might. Hell, he’d have them in front of a police station by now…

But you weren’t All Might’s arch nemesis for nothing.

Highland Havoc was the name, and causing havoc is your game.

Accurate to your villain name, you created chaos with your strength-based quirk, destroying government buildings, totaling police cars, tearing out parking meters, and stealing stop signs.

One thing that separated you from the rest of the villains wasn’t just your ability to rival All-fucking-Might, but your surprisingly noble morals.

You weren’t destroying small businesses or killing people, in fact, you’ve saved people on several occasions.

You were basically a professional villainess with standards.

You were a bad guy… but not a bad guy…

The worst you did was wreck a couple hero office buildings and steal thousands of stop signs, but you never ever stole candy from a baby.

In other words, you were just a cheeky little cunt.

You were a menace… but you were Musutafu’s favorite menace.

You casually tore out a stop sign that sat on the corner of the street (one that recently replaced the old one after you stole it) and placed it on your shoulders while smirking through your mask.

“So, what’s on the agenda today? You failing for the millionth time to land a good hit on me?” You teased.

All Might chuckled heartily, but he felt the same thrill coursing through his veins that he always felt when he was ready to fight you.

“I do hate to burst your bubble, my dear,” he began, using a nickname to tease you right back. “But I’m not about to go easy on you just because it’s our anniversary.”

“Oh I don’t expect you to hold back, I’ve been waiting for the opposite actually~” You said before lifting the newly acquired stop sign and twirled it expertly in your hand.

All Might’s eyes followed your every movement like a hawk. He never took his eyes off you these days when you were facing each other, and for good reason: you were not to be underestimated. He knew better than that.

“Still got that nasty habit of collecting those silly signs, I see.” He said with that signature smile as he flexed his thick muscles, getting ready for your first attack.

“You call them silly, but the city seems to take stop sign theft very seriously.” You said while getting into your own fighting position.

All Might scoffed as he rolled his shoulders to loosen up his muscles even more.

“And rightly so! Stop signs are important, you know.” He scolded before looking you up and down with a scoff “And that mask of yours is still downright hideous. How can you handle wearing that thing?”

“You and your issues with my mask. Always having a problem with it, lad.” You sighed and rolled your (e/c) eyes.

All Might looked around the city in feigned disbelief, as if searching for a nonexistent culprit.

”And whose fault is that?” He said, glancing at you again with a smirk. “If you just took the damn thing off, I wouldn’t complain all the time. Your face is probably the only nice part of you, but I have yet to confirm that.”

“Oh shush, you just want to be able to identify me so the coppers can hunt me down.” You said with a scoff.

All Might crossed his large arms over his built chest and let out a huff.

“Now that is the last thing I want, my dear.” He retorted, his smile faltering for a moment before a mischievous grin took over. “You’re my favorite villain to wrangle; I’d be devastated if you were taken off the streets.”

The bystanders who stayed to watch were getting restless, excited, or annoyed at the two…

All Might, the #1 hero who has been the world’s symbol of peace for years; and you: #1 super villain in the country and top ranked pain in All Might’s ass, has not once made any moves on each other.

Many years of rivalry… and their OTP still haven’t made a move on eachother…

…And it was driving the tabloids and the media batshit insane.

People were dying to know what was going on with the two, and for those who had that gut feeling, it was absolute torture for the hero/villain duo to not just fuck each other already.

Who would’ve thought the hero and villain would end up in a tango of sexual tension that lasted 15 years?

“Just kiss already!”

One guy in the gathered audience yelled loudly, saying what no one else dared to say.

All Might and you immediately both stopped what you were doing and looked over at the random citizen. You both had that “deer in headlights” look, and even with half of your face covered, the surprise on your face was obvious.

All Might actually went a shade of pink in the face.

The hero finally turned to the civilian. “S-Sir! This is a-ah-a battle! That would… be highly inappropriate in such an important moment!” He said firmly, but he looked so flustered.

“You have very interesting fans, All Might...” You muttered, glancing away from the hero.

“They’re your fans too.” All Might bickered.

Before he could retort against you, the same obnoxious idiot spoke up again.

“Maybe you two should just cut the bullshit and make out already!” He said, and several cheers came from the small crowd of onlookers.

All Might’s face went red again and he began to stammer. He was starting to get flustered by the comments. He tried to gather himself quickly, and he turned to the crowd again.

“T-This is not a performance! We’re not some dance for your e-entertainment! You people should take this seriously!” All Might protested, but the comments were getting to him.

More hollering and cat calling stirred from the audience; some were even chanting a ship name for you two.

You just deadpanned… but you were admittedly a bit amused.

“…you wanna just start the fight? Can’t really hear them over us throwing punches.” You suggested.

All Might looked back at you, a slight look of relief on his face.

“Y-Yes, an excellent idea! We’re wasting time here!” He said, flexing his arms and getting back into his battle stance.

The hero was trying desperately to ignore the chants and the cheers and whistles from the audience, which was only making him more and more flustered.

Even after 15 years, All Might was never bored of battling you. He was expecting your attack and was ready for you when you ran at him. He was also relieved that he didn’t have to listen to those insufferable comments for another second.

To add to that, Even though the crowd really, really wanted you two to finally French kiss, they weren’t disappointed when it came to you both fighting. For now, they didn��t try to push you two… for now.

You immediately launched yourself forward, leaving a small crater behind you. At the last moment, he sidestepped your attack and aimed a punch directly at your ribs.

You placed your free hand in front of your ribs and grabbed his fist as he unintentionally swung you around. Once you jumped away from him, you swung the stop sign at his head.

The man quickly blocked the blow with his massive forearm and pushed the sign away.

He wasn’t just going to accept any injury without at least putting up a fight. He was itching to actually land a solid hit on you, which was a challenge due to your strength and agility.

He took the opportunity whilst your stop sign was pushed away to aim a kick at your side.

All Might cringed inwardly when you were sent through a wall. He really was dreading the paperwork… Technically, you destroyed that building, he’s just doing his duty.

…Also, you had a tendency to let him strike on purpose so he could indirectly damage buildings *cough* *cough*-

As you were recovering from that kick and standing at the edge of the hole you left, the people in the audience were whistling and hollering at you two.

All Might stared up at you with a scoff before marching over to the new hole in the wall.

“Damnit, why didn’t you dodge???” He almost whined.

You chuckled as you placed your stop sign on your shoulder and jumped down, landing in front of him with a deep thud.

“C’mon… you know why~” You said cheekily.

Despite the mask covering your lower face, he could tell you were smiling.

He let out an aggravated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his signature smile up through gritted teeth.

“You’re terrible.” He muttered.

In the background, some of the more overbearing and blunt All Might and Highland Havoc fans in the crowd started shouting again.

“Get a room already!”

“The damn sexual tension is more thick than Midnight!”

All Might was blushing furiously, trying to tilt his face away from anyone’s sight.

‘If I hear one more comment from these people…’ he thought to himself, keeping up that friendly All Might front for his fans and for himself.

Unfortunately, he was interrupted by another loud comment.

“Stop being pussies and kiss already!!” A more blunt and shameless fangirl yelled from the crowd.

All Might looked at his nemesis with a strained smile on his face.

You… You just deadpanned.

“…I’m just going to swing this at your durable head, is that okay?” You asked plainly yet genuinely, holding up your stop sign to show off your weapon of choice.

All Might let go of his restraint and rubbed the bridge of his nose again.

“That is absolutely fine.” He replied in annoyance before pulling his hand away to look at you. “In fact, could you please hit me in the face? I’d rather we got serious.”

Just then, another shrill female voice cried, “Oh come on, a kiss would be soooo much better tho-“

All Might gritted his teeth and interrupted. “Please, random citizen, I’m trying to concentrate!!”

Unfortunately, because All Might lost concentration, you took this chance to slam the sign part of the stop sign into his face.

He took the hit like a champ and stumbled back, but it didn’t knock him down, just caused him to fumble with his massive feet until he got his footing again.

He clutched his now throbbing cheek and winced.

’Note to self: keep your focus from now on.’ All Might thought to himself as he righted himself.

He smirked through the pain and glared over at you again.

“…You’re going to pay for that.” He said.

Instead of trembling in fear, you simply blinked in surprise, amazed that you actually nailed him in the face with the metal sheet so easily, before looking at the stop sign.

Your shock quickly turned into amusement after you did a double take.

“Oh my God!” You laughed from amusement and shock as you stared at the imprint of All Might’s face in the stop sign.

All Might’s glare and smirk dropped for a moment, instead looking at her with a bewildered look before following her gaze to the sign.

When he saw the All Might face-shaped imprint, he actually snorted.

The fans in the background were cheering and hollering at the scene unfolding on the battlefield between their favorite number one hero and number one villain.

You continued laughing while leaning onto the pole of the stop sign for support.

It wasn’t even one of those taunting laughs he always heard from you, it was one of those rare, genuine ones.

The hoarse sound of your laughter was so unbelievably beautiful to his ears…

In all the years he’d known you, he rarely ever heard a genuine laugh, a guffaw or an eruption of amused cackling. He always thought you were a snickering or a scoffing type.

…In all honesty, the sound of your laugh was almost more damaging than a stop sign to his face.

“I actually managed to immortalize that face you made into the sign! Definitely going into my stop sign collection!” You laughed out, wiping a tear from your eye.

Your comment luckily broke him out of his smiling stupor.

“H-Hey, I do not make that kind of face during battle…”

“The sign says otherwise.” You said while getting control of your laughter.

All Might’s face was slightly flushed as he internally pouted at you but still kept his signature smile on.

“Well… that’s obviously not my normal look!” He protested before turning to a more playful tone.

“…Though you must admit, that is a lovely face, even imprinted into a sign like that. I can see why you’d want to keep it, Havoc.” He said with a cheeky lilt to his tone, trying to tease you back.

You smirked and brought the dented part down to your face to study it.

“…actually, you’re right… even caught that beautiful jawline of yours.” You said before lifting your free hand up to tug at your mask.

You pulled the mask down, and for the first time in 15 years, you exposed your lower face to All Might and the crowd.

All Might’s eyes went the size of saucers.

He was finally getting to see your face. He had been yearning to know what you looked like beneath that hideous mask of yours for years.

A little part of him had hoped you would unveil yourself to him in battle for years, yet here you were actually doing it, Freezing the hero from disbelief and awe.

The audience had gone dead silent at the sight of your revealed face, and more than one fan was filming the historic moment.

… and It was about to get more historical… cuz you lifted the All Might face dent and gave it a little kiss before lifting the mask back over your lower face.

It was almost like a scene from a film, except it wasn’t scripted at all.

All Might’s jaw had dropped to the floor the moment you kissed the imprint, but the realization of what had just happened didn’t sink in until your mask was over your face again.

Everyone in the audience was stunned, and for a moment, no one uttered a breath. The silence was so loud, you could hear a pen hit the ground.

Then the crowd roared.

The collective roar and screams of the audience were deafening, and they rang in the ears of both the hero and the villain.

All Might was still staring at you in disbelief, a bright red blush spreading over his face.

As was expected of people who were witnessing such a sight, the fans had their phones out and were taking pictures at record speed. One or two people were actually full on crying with tears of joy.

You stared back at All Might with an amused and mischievous look in your eye as the crowd and potentially the whole world were collectively losing their mind.

All Might tried desperately to find words to say, but he was so stunned that he couldn’t even process his thoughts.

The hero’s brain had short circuited and his jaw was hanging open. All he could do was gape at you while the people in the background were gushing and crying and screaming about a number one ship in history being finally confirmed.

But then, he quickly realized that he was just standing there like a fish out of water, and there are cameras surrounding both of them, filming the whole scene.

He quickly schooled his features and placed his hands on his hips and lifted his head.

“O-OKAY, LET’S BE CALM ABOUT THIS!” he bellowed, but the fans were still making sounds like they just won the lottery.

At this, he groaned in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose again.

He didn’t know what to do anymore. This was the worst. The fans are going to make this moment in history live on forever.

He finally removed his hand from his face and shot you a look.

“You did that on purpose….” he muttered to you.

“Oh did I?” You asked innocently while holding a dark gloved hand up to your masked face and kicking a foot up behind you.

All Might squinted his eyes at you in annoyance.

“Don’t give me that, you knew exactly what you were doing…” He grumbled.

The audience was still going berserk, cameras were flashing from all sides. The former hero was just so over it at this point.

You snickered like a little vixen while still holding your hand to your masked face. He was slowly getting more and more irritated at how amused you looked.

“…Why did you even do that!?” He demanded with a shaky tone.

The crowd was still hooting and whistling in the background, but All Might didn’t care, his focus was completely on you.

You simply shrugged.

“Sorry, my dear~” you purred out, using the pet name he used for you using your strength-based quirk to jump off to somewhere else, leaving All Might to deal with the damaged building and the crowd of shocked and excited bystanders… and a news helicopter.

All Might was so too caught off guard by his own pet-name being used against him that he forgot to give chase to you.

He eventually came to his senses and whipped around to search for you in the sky, but you were long gone by now.

Groaning and pinching his nose for the 5th… 6th time? 10th? The hero turned back to the aftermath of the confrontation and was immediately bombarded by the fans who were clambering around him.

That night…

Yagi Toshinori *hated* paperwork.

At this point, he was used to doing excessive amounts of paperwork, so he was able to get through it all rather quickly.

But today’s paperwork involved the entire incident that had occurred between you and him. His hands were cramping up from signing forms and writing down details of your little escapade.

He was just scribbling away as the TV played in the background, playing today’s news. And of course, the entire day’s events featured heavily on tonight’s broadcast.

Yagi lifted his head to take a break and watch the replay of the confrontation on the newscast. Once again, he was met with seeing himself standing on the battlefield with his jaw on the floor as cameras captured your little… display.

Immediately, he groaned and put his head down on the desk with a thump, mumbling into the wood.

“I actually can’t believe it, she really just made it known to everyone!” The news reporter said a little too excitedly for someone who’s supposed to be unbiased.

The news reporter had obviously been waiting for this moment her whole career. She was acting like a fangirl, which in a way, was very realistic of her since many people would react the exact same way.

“Who would’ve ever thought that the number one hero or number one villain would actually have some kind of affection for each other? Could it even be love?”

Toshinori was just sitting there, face on the desk, listening to the broadcast as his now deflated, fluffy hair draped over his desk.

The news reporters continued to talk about what had happened, but something said by the man reporter caught his attention.

”It’s been 15 years, today marking the 15th anniversary of All Might’s and Highland Havoc’s rivalry… it’s about damn time.” The older news reporter, a 50 year old man, said.

“Daikaku, you shouldn’t swear, we’re on live tv.” The younger news reporter said with a hint of worry.

But All Might didn’t focus on that…

15 years. 15 years of you being his nemesis…

He hadn’t even realized that it had already been that long. And he hadn’t realized that he had feelings for you for 90% of that time… that was… a really long time.

The news broadcaster interrupted the former heroes thoughts when the subject was changed to an All Might fan.

“Let’s listen now to what the fans have to say about the incident that unfolded in today’s fight.”

All Might groaned when he heard that. He just knew the first fan they were going to show was going to be an overly obsessed and delusional fan. And of course, that is exactly what he got.

“I CALLED IT! I KNEW the two of them have been dating in secret for YEARS!!” The first fan cried out through one of the speakers of the call, clearly a child.

All Might was so over it. He wanted to bang his head on the desk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yes. That fan at the end is 100% Midoriya.

This takes place 3 years before All Might meets Midoriya, which means he’s 11 and All Might is 46.

Let me know how well I did and if you’d like more 👍👍👍👍

…or don’t. I’m planning on making a lil series anyways, like it or not.

[souperbloom]

the way things go. [A.I.]

title from the song the way things go by beebadoobee

ex boyfriend!ash

part 1 of 2 | random little post breakup angst.

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this so i thought i’d give it a try— let me know what you think :) there will be a part 2 but im still unsure of what direction to take this in so if you have any suggestions feel free to drop them in my inbox!

no major cws, just a brief mention of drinking & vibes. ☻

WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You around?

Sent. 2:58am

An odd buzzing from beneath your pillow stirred you awake from the deepest sleep you’ve had in weeks. Your phone buzzed once and just like that, you were awake? Couldn’t be. It had to have been some sort of sixth sense.

Call me. I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

The silk pillowcase cradled your cheek as the buzzing continued. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Baby, please.

Sent. 2:59am

I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

So much.

Sent. 3:00am

It wasn’t long before the incessant buzzing frustrated you to the point of reaching beneath your pillow and yanking your phone out from under it. The harsh light made your eyes water and burn, but the notifications on the screen made them ache even more.

ASHTON: 5 New Messages.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.

What was once a fluttering feeling in your chest, seeing his name sprawled across the screen, turned abruptly into agony. You didn’t think it would be so soon— him reaching out to you. It had been a month, almost to the day, since you and Ashton had called your three and a half year relationship quits. Things were serious enough to bring marriage into the question and suddenly, one random Tuesday night, it all came crashing down. He told you that it wasn’t you, that it was him, that it was the right person at the wrong time and all of the other painfully worn out cliches. To think that you even considered marrying him at all.

A crazy thought at three in the morning.

And even crazier when you thought about him texting you in the middle of the night. After a month of no contact.

have you been drinking?

Sent. 3:01 am

Your thumbs twiddle quickly and hit send, waiting for those three little deathly bubbles to pop up and confirm that no, you weren’t dreaming and yes, he was anxiously awaiting your reply.

ASHTON

Maybe. Maybe not.

Sent. 3:01am

His response makes you grumble; Ashton was absolutely insufferable— and even more so when inebriated. You didn’t want to deal with him right now, it was in your best interest to just ignore him and fight the thought of him right back to sleep.

But something inside of you wasn’t allowing this to be that easy.

go to bed.

Sent. 3:02am

ASHTON

Not until you’re in it.

Sent. 3:02am

that made no sense.

Sent. 3:02am

Why was it so difficult to put your phone down?

ASHTON

I don’t give a shit. I miss you.

Sent. 3:03am

You were far too tired to be entertaining his stupid desires at such an odd hour of the evening. The time was one thing, but the fact that he was drinking was an entirely new fish to fry. You knew that your actions had consequences, and those consequences were something you’d have to deal with in the morning.

stop texting me.

Sent. 3:04am

Maybe he’ll get the hint.

ASHTON

Come over?

Sent. 3:04am

Okay. Maybe not.

Your bottom lip had gone raw from the amount of biting you’d been doing to it recently, and it had yet to stop at all. It was a nervous habit you’d picked up after the breakup and you thought you were doing well at combating it by picking at your nail beds and twirling your hair— but now, these little ticks were coming out all at once.

You were a walking ball of nerves and haven’t been the same since that random Tuesday, almost a month ago.

no.

Sent. 3:05am

Look at you. Standing your ground. You were so proud of yourself.

ASHTON

Please?

Sent. 3:05am

fine.

Sent. 3:08am

Fuck.

The time it took for you to get yourself decent must’ve been some sort of world record. Because now, seemingly seconds later, you were in your car and hunched over your steering wheel. Taking deep breaths in as the cool leather pricked your balled up fists.

This fucking sucks.

You turned the key and the engine begrudgingly grumbled to a start. Even your car knew that this was a poor decision; sounding like it was about a five mile drive from completely giving up on you.

Lucky for you, Ashton’s house was only a mile away.

The dark winding road leading to Ashton’s driveway felt like an eternity. You were frigid at the thought of him sitting and waiting up for you, sitting on that deep mahogany leather couch with his head tossed back onto the cushions. His knee bobbing impatiently and the light of the TV making his face glow pale. A glass of whiskey, or whatever the fuck poison he picked nowadays, clutched in his hand and taking small sips until ice melted gradually and watered it down.

You hated how much you knew about him. How predictable he had become in your time being with him. You knew that whatever image your brain was conjuring up of him was probably true, down to the outfit he was wearing.

You didn’t bother texting him because you knew that the second his porch lights turned on, he’d be slouched against the doorframe waiting for you. As he always did. Your tires crunched against the gravel as you slowly pulled into his driveway; shaky hands and tired eyes working in tandem to park your car in the usual spot.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

The familiar voice pulls your gaze away from your slippers and just as expected, there he was.

His hair was a few inches longer, auburn and honeycomb waves colliding into a box-dyed mess. His roots were so much darker, after you had worked so hard on the touch ups and hours spent bent over the bathtub rinsing the bleach out to lighten his black dye job. All of that time was in vain.

There was an appropriate amount of stubble surrounding his cheeks, for the time you’d gone without seeing him. You were too busy admiring his face to notice that he was wearing the Keith Haring printed robe you had gifted him for Christmas.

You probably looked crazy.

“You asked me to come over,” you shrug, trying to make light of the situation.

“So… you came?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The tension rising was palpable, despite the tasteful three feet of distance between your bodies, and the only thing you could think about now was the way his mossy eyes sparkled beneath the porch lights.

“Well,” he breaks the silence with a chuckle, “Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

You don’t say anything else after stepping over the threshold of the house you’d spent almost four years living in. Everything was the same. And you’d imagined it as so. To any normal person, a month wasn’t a terribly long time. But the time after a breakup all seems to mesh into one long day, since stepping into his house for the final time to grab your things felt like it was yesterday.

The guitars still mounted to the wall and decorated art pieces that hung to and fro reminded you of all of the effort you’d spent making this house into a home.

“Is Calum here?” you ask about his best friend and roommate, trying to pay attention to anything else in the room but him.

“Nope. He’s out.”

“Cool.”

Ashton moves around the living room with ease, unperturbed by your presence as he glides over to the connected kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“No. Don’t plan on crashing here, if that’s what you were expecting.”

He lets out a wry chuckle at your attempt to be stern, “I wasn’t expecting anything. Just— trying to be a polite host.”

“Yeah well,” you sigh, flopping back onto that old leather couch, “You don’t have to act like I’m some stranger.”

“Stranger?” he quizzes, opening the door to his fridge as his disembodied voice echoes behind you, “What makes you think I’d treat you like a stranger?”

Your shoulders tense up at his soft words, Ashton rounds the corner back into the livingroom to join you on the couch. He hands you a glass of apple juice, and you take it.

“Thanks,” you murmur, the thought of him keeping a bottle of apple juice in the fridge for you sending a chill down your spine. Despite making fun of you for it, he always remembered that it was your favorite.

“So…” he begins, shifting on the couch to face your slouched body.

You glance over at his posture, and the familiarity of it all was making your head hurt. To think that the way someone chose to sit on a couch was causing you so much grief felt unnatural.

“...How have you been?”

“Fine. Just— living. I suppose that’s all I could really ask for.”

“Living, huh? Sounds fun. Better than dying. If you said you were dying I’d definitely be a little less excited about you showing up here. Walking corpses are not as cool as they are on TV.”

The way Ashton constantly spoke in tongues drove you up the wall. “What the fuck are you even saying?”

“Sorry, I’ve— been watching a lot of TV recently. Also I, uh— had a bit to drink.”

Yeah, no shit.

A few more moments of deafening silence pass and ultimately confuse you. You aren’t sure how silence could be something so loud but alas, whenever you looked at, heard, or even thought of Ashton since that one Tuesday night, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own quickening heartbeat.

“Do you still have my cashmere sweater?” The thought pops into your mind randomly, as he takes a moment to admire you.

“I do. Did you want it back?”

That question pulls a dry chuckle out of you, “If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be asking for it.”

“Fair point. I know just where I left it, too— I’ll go get it.”

Ashton shifts to the edge of the couch to stand up, but stumbles back, due to whatever he had flowing in his system. He braces his ring-clad hands onto the leather and the metal adorning his knuckles tear down into it.

Glancing at those miscellaneous metal etchings and gemstones you’d gifted him makes you think about his infatuation with rings. And, his request for only eight of them.

Your mind flashes back to the anniversaries and milestones where he attempted to collect one for every finger. It could have been preference, or maybe he didn’t foresee enough milestones in which he’d acquire them—but you were never quite sure why he didn’t ask for ten.

He was weird in that way.

“You still wear your rings?” you ask, debating on biting your tongue after letting the question slip right out.

He stops in his tracks, as does your heart, “Of course I do. Why?”

“Dunno’,” you shrug, brushing your shoulder and letting your hand linger on your skin, “Just didn’t think you’d want to after everything.”

Ashton looks at you with intrigue; with purpose. He studies the hand of yours that had been left timidly resting on your forearm.

“Well, to ask you your own question; why wouldn’t I?”

His words hit you like a freight train and suddenly there’s a tightness in your chest that wasn’t there before. You were proud of yourself for being level headed— up until the moment you realized he was right; why wouldn’t he wear those rings?

Why wouldn’t you come over?

“Ashton?” The tightness in your chest was now spreading to your entire body, coating your limbs in this strange paralysis that always seemed to happen when you thought about him.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you, too.”

You don’t even get a moment to process how quickly you were straddling his lap, your crewneck riding up your back as his hands made an effort to explore you. The kiss was heated, sure, but you couldn’t tell if the resentment you felt towards him was meshing into your desires. Those soft little whimpers escaped his chest as you practically pinned him down onto the couch between your knees. You weren’t sure what came over you. Could’ve been his newly acquired taste for classical Hollywood cinema, or the fact that smelling his cologne felt like a breath of fresh air after a month spent locked in a tight little room.

“Ashton,” you mumble his name into his lips and they ricochet back onto yours.

“Oh, Y/N”, he hums, “How I’ve missed you, baby.”

Your tongues danced beneath the glowing of the silver screen, Casablanca being the most appropriate film to be on his television right now.

“I’ve–” your breath staggers, taking a moment to nip at his bottom lip, “I’ve missed you too. God fuckin’–”

The words you were meant to speak were entrapped by soft moans, as Ashton pulls you into his airy pajama pants. He holds you tightly, like he had never left.

“Do– do you–” He attempts to ask the question, the age-old question that had you rethinking your decision to come to his house in the first place.

“I don’t know…”

Your hand travels up to his hair and drags down to cup his cheek, the stubble slightly scratching at your palm and reminding yourself of the blisters that were left in the place of Ashton’s many, many attempts to teach you the drums. Two and a half years of consistent practice paid off.

“That’s okay,” he consoles, nuzzling his cheek into your hand, “We don’t have to do anything. We could just– lay here, y’know? Never minded it, still don’t.”

His answer surprises you. You nod and stutter, unable to form a coherent thought due to the warmth of his bare chest beneath his robe.

“Mmmh. You know what?— I change my mind.”

He chuckles, “Do you, now?”

“Yup. I want to. Gotta’ get whatever the fuck this is— out of my system.”

You couldn’t describe the way Ashton’s face morphed into that of a kicked puppy. The pain in your chest was blatantly obvious now, like a subtle pinprick every time the dim lights would catch the sparkle in his eyes.

“Out of your system?”

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that,” you say; an oxymoron of sorts. Since the elephant in the room started stomping around and now, you were straddling him and tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“I guess I can’t disagree with you. I’ve been missing you a lot but— I don’t know, I can’t really place what I’m feeling.”

Your lip tugs to the side, as does his. Twin looks of confusion in an effort to read each other’s faces. “Let’s just— pick up where we left off? Maybe it’ll help get your mind off the existential dread.”

“Existential dread, huh? Is that what this feeling is?” he asks, his hands running up and down your spine beneath your crewneck.

“Yeah, sure,” you swallow hard, harder than you’d intended and you choke on your words, “We can call it that.”

He whispers your name softly and the chills start running down your body. His voice was the one thing you couldn’t get over; no matter how many nights you’d spent staring at the ceiling in an effort to change that. You’d hear him calling out to you every time the wind blew and hearing him say it right in front of you felt like a slap in the goddamn face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?”

You hated to be so morbid and dry but in the end, it was true. If he had wanted to give apologies where they were due, they should’ve been said the moment he called it quits.

“I figured it’s better late than never. You deserve an apology for— everything that went on.”

Your face turns cherry red, a sudden wash of anger flushing over your cheeks. You push yourself off of his chest with a force that you didn’t even know you were capable of. He jerks back, awe-stricken at the sudden change.

“Oh fuck you Ash. You’re so full of shit,” you mutter, fueled with sudden rage, “If you really wanted to apologize you’d have been at my doorstep a month ago. You don’t care about me. You only care because I’m right in front of you and looking at me hurts too much for you to ignore it.”

“You think I don’t care about you?…”

Ashton’s voice cracks and suddenly you were feeling awful for blowing up unprovoked. The notch in his forehead grows deeper as he studies your infuriated face with sincerity.

“Y/N, of course I fucking care about you. Are you kidding me? I care about you more than anything in this world.”

Another one of those pinpricks tugs at your heartstrings.

“Then why did you let me go?”

Without a moment’s notice or any sort of explanation, Ashton pulls you back into his chest and slots his lips against yours. You don’t fight it. In fact, you embrace it. Another frenzied kiss of daring tongues and roaming hands against the places that felt so familiar to the both of you.

Just as the kiss goes rogue and his lips sloppily traipse down to your jaw, you feel a small droplet roll down your cheek. One that didn’t belong to you.

A quiet sob is preceded by a sentence that rips your heart out of your chest.

“I never wanted to. I never wanted to let you go.”

“Ashton,” you murmur, feeling your eyes welling up just the same, “I—I didn’t know—”

He interrupts your thought with a string of kisses down your neck towards your chest. His hands roam with fervor, feeling you up as though you were the last thing he would ever be allowed or able to touch. You embraced his blistered hands and the way they knew every crease and divot in your body, how effortless he was at drawing you back in.

“I never knew how to get you in front of me to actually say the things on my mind but now that I have you I just— I couldn’t fight the pain in my chest when I looked into your eyes for the first time.” His rambling was trailing off into muffled sniffling and staccato phrasing; it was causing you physical pain to hear him this way.

“I just assumed you hated me. I thought you never wanted to see me again, Ash. Why didn’t you say this sooner?”

“What? No. No, I don’t hate you,” he defends, still solemn, “I just— didn’t know how to reach out. It took me a lot to swallow my pride and send you that text, Y/N… I’ve never been good at communicating.”

“Tell me about it,” you break the tension with a lighthearted hand, but remnants of your feelings for him lingered above your head like a storm cloud.

“But my actions have consequences, I’ve learned… I’d drive past your house and it’d take everything in me not to bang on your front door and drop down to my knees. Beg you to forgive me for everything I put you through… Everything I do reminds me of you in some way and— it was hard to even think about the two of us existing in the same universe without the other by our sides. It just, it didn’t feel natural—”

You felt sorrowful enough to place a kiss on his cheek as he rambled on, masking tears of your own and letting them drip down his cheek.

“— And when you told me ‘no’ after I’d asked you on a whim to come here, I thought it was over. My entire life flashed before my eyes and you weren’t in it and it just— it fucking killed me.”

“But Ashton, I’m here,” you say, watching his face deconstruct into more of a manic expression as he digressed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you’re here. You’re here now and— I know you always told me to live in the moment, but fuck. There’s so much left to say.”

You cup his jaw and tilt his gaze back into yours, after it had wandered behind your head as it always seemed to do.

“I’m sure there’s a lot to say but Ashton, you’ve made up your mind. That’s just… the way things go.”

Another tear falls rogue from his malachite eyes and your thumb is there to catch it. His gaze is gut-wrenching, plucking at every single one of your impulses and all of the progress you’ve made in getting over him.

“Is it too late to change that?”

Your mind starts reeling. The words you’d never thought you’d hear coming from his mouth were finally out in the open and there was no sign of him taking them back. The initial issue was his lack of communication but fuck, you didn’t know it would come back to bite you so soon.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sending him a simple text to meet for coffee in hopes to ‘change his mind’, but it seemed as though he was thinking about it just as much as you were. There was no point in fighting it anymore. The two of you were meant for each other. If a month of no contact was all it took for him to realize how much he needed you…

…Then maybe that random Tuesday night wasn’t the worst thing after all.

[wexhappyxfew]

sweet-talking silver bullets

I in fact have never been normal about anything ever so enjoy a hodgepodge of MOTA OCs I've developed just because. You might've met Annie Bradshaw (who was Annie Chattaway) in another prompt request a few weeks back, but I wanted to do some more with her....and then I gave her a new position, changed her last name, and added an intriguing plot for some ideas, so....enjoy the introduction to some of the crew of Silver Bullets, and Annie, who is trying to navigate a crew who is suffering from a heavy loss, plus some John-squared (Egan and Brady)!

"You must be the new LT, huh?" a voice said from her left; turning sharply to her right, she noticed a woman sat at the bar, a cigarette hanging from her lip, and sad, downturned eyes staring at a piece of paper in front of her. Annie looked around briefly, slightly confused by the sudden addressing of herself, but then nodded - the woman couldn't see it evidently but it was out of habit - and stepped forward.

"Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw, just in from Fort Des Moines," Annie said, outstretching a hand forward to the woman, who glanced up from the piece of paper and then quickly shook her hand before turning and looking away again, "I'm-"

"Sorry for your loss." the woman said, glancing her way, "Yeah, we've gotten that quite a lot."

Annie went quiet and shut her eyes for a moment. She sucked in a deep breath before clearing her throat.

"You must be….?" Annie started, trying to see if this woman was who she thought she was.

"Francis Montez," she said with a nod, "Lieutenant. I was Faulkner's copilot."

"From what I heard, you landed the plane beautifully," Annie said with a firm tone, "it was brave of you to do." Montez glanced at her and pulled the cigarette from her lip.

"I didn't have a choice now, did I?" Montez muttered, before folding the paper and standing to her rather tall height and blowing smoke from her lips, "The rest of the girls are around. You'll meet 'em all soon enough." And with that, Montez was wavering away, disappearing between the folds of men in uniform and Clubmobile ladies. Annie remembered seeing the article - the day the 100th lost Captain Birdie Faulkner, the day her 2nd Lieutenant Francis Montez risked every inch of herself to get her, the plane and the crew to safety. The day she got the call to report to Thorpe Abbotts. Annie slowly leaned up against the bar and let out a breath.

"Lieutenant….uh….Bradshaw?" Annie looked up and found a shorter woman, with bright, blue eyes and beautifully curled, blonde hair stood in front of her, lips painted a deep cherry red, a careening smile on her face, "Margie Harlowe, put her there." Margie had her hand stretched out in front of her to shake, pristine uniform on point for all to see, and those bright eyes to match. Annie offered a pinprick of a smile and nodded, shaking her hand firmly before putting her hands in the pockets of the jacket over her own uniform.

"Real name's Marjorie, but…I don't know, Margie became easier to yell through comms thousands of feet in the air." she said with a growing grin, "Really a pleasure that you're here. I know Harding's been trying to get another one of you pilots in for days now. Scrambling and all."

"It's a pleasure to be here," Annie said quickly, her nerves bubbling over at the worst of times, before recognizing her manners, "Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw. Just in from Fort Des Moines, hopped one of the newer birds to get over here as quick as I could." Margie let out a barking laugh and crossed her arms, throwing her head back like it were the best joke in the world.

"Fort Des Moines, you say that funny, where you from?" Margie asked her and then held up her hands dramatically from her chest, "No, wait….let me guess. New England…..maybe Vermont." Margie seemed to understand the look in Annie's eyes and shook her head.

"Nah, gotta be midwest, you're sweet as peaches." she said, "Iowa?"

"Minnesota. Mankato." Annie offered with an attempt at a smile.

"Ah! You must've heard - Major Egan, he's a Wisconsin guy. 's a wonder that he's so chatty." Annie laughed at her words, "I assume you've met him then?"

"Out on the tarmac. Showed me the mess hall. Well….officers' club." Annie said and Margie seemed to get a kick out of that and nodded.

"Yeah, he's real sweet until you gotta start having to actually sweet-talk him." Margie said, noticing Annie's gaze again, "Don't ask." Annie smirked.

"So, you met Silver Bullets yet? She's a beaut." Margie said, with a gleam in her eyes, "Flies faster than you can bet on her with." Something passed over Annie's eyes and Margie seemed to notice it, the smile crinkling the slightest bit. Silver Bullets. The B-17 that Captain Faulkner had piloted on various missions and had died in as well.

The B-17 awaiting its newest pilot.

"Nah, not yet." Annie said, "Met Lieutenant Montez though…..said I'd find you all around here."

"Yeah, Monty, she's….she's not doing great. Well, after everything," Margie said with a half-hearted smile that looked more like a depleted frown, "she had to get the thing on the ground with Birdie's body next to her." Annie watched as Margie sighed and shut her eyes and seemed to shutter.

"We're really glad you're here," Margie said quietly, looking up at Annie, "It's been…..weird, without Birdie here. Everyone trusted Birdie, all the other pilots, Operations…..her being gone, I don't know….they don't like the thought of us going up with just anyone." The words 'just anyone' seemed to strike something deep inside of Annie as she stood there against the bar and she nodded. Just anyone, she thought to herself.

"I intend to prove our worth here," Annie said quietly, "you, me, the whole crew. Silver Bullets." Margie smiled at her and nodded.

"Really, though, we're glad you're here, ma'am." Annie did feel her nerves settle for a moment as she stood there, just hearing Margie's words directed at her with consolation and comfort all at once.

"Lieutenant 'No Name' Bradshaw," a incredibly distinct voice said from over her shoulder, Margie's eyes darting upwards and Annie slowly following her line of sight, "can't believe you actually came." Major Egan grinned.

"We were just talking about you, sir!" Margie exclaimed, jumping in with wide eyes, "Just near about summoned you like you were God."

"Don't inflate his ego," muttered a brunette coming in from Major Egan's side, "it's bursting the bubbles at this point." Annie looked to Major Egan.

"Captain Brady invited me." she offered towards him and he raised a surprised brow.

"Oh leave her alone, sir," Margie said with a scolding, but playful look, "just because you can pull all that sweet-talking with Farley here-"

"Hey." grumbled the woman - her assumption that it was Farley was evident.

"Don't go pulling it with Bradshaw alright, she could probably take you out swinging, sir." managed Margie and Major Egan chuckled.

"Dancing? Oh I'd love to." he said, with a nod, "Want to give me a spin, No Name?"

"Leave her alone," Farley said from beside Major Egan, "Kennedy Farley, gunner on Silver Bullets."

"Pleasure to meet you." Annie said with a quick smile, before noticing Major Egan was watching her again, "Is Captain Brady here, sir? I meant to go thank him."

"He's somewhere," Kennedy offered instead, "but don't mind him-" she swiftly pointed to Major Egan who was grinning as proud as he could, "-this is just Major John Egan for you." Quite the sentiment and statement about a Major in the 100th.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Annie turned from Major Egan, Margie and Kennedy and found Captain Brady there, removing the peak cap and tucking it under his armpit, before sticking out a hand, in what she assumed as a friendly reintroduction.

"Well, No Name, seems he came right to you," Major Egan said with a chuckle, as Annie reached forward and shook Captain Brady's hand firmly. He raised his brow and Annie felt her cheeks burn.

"I meant to thank you," she said quickly, crossing her arms, and smiling up at him, "for inviting me. I was going to look for you." Brady smiled, his eyes lingering on her for a few seconds longer than warranted, before he looked behind her.

"Not giving the 100th's newest pilot too much trouble, huh?" he asked, seemingly to mainly look at Major Egan, who, when she glanced over her shoulder, smirked proudly and gave a bow.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he offered, as Brady stepped to her side, with a smile.

"C'mon, let's get you a drink."

[saltsicklover]

Part Eight

Hey lovely people, here's another update for you! There might be a little bit of a wait for the next part, as this is pretty much everything I've had back written. I hope you enjoy it!

Title: Once an Asshole, Always an Asshole

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2500+

Rating: R

Warnings: Swearing, Crying, Tobacco, Smoking, the Daggers not knowing a damn thing about Bob.

Second Chance Romance!

Disclaimer: I do not own Bob Floyd, or anything related to Top Gun Maverick within this piece. Not Proof Read or BETA'd. All mistakes are my own.

I do not consent for my work to be edited, reposted, or translated.

You are responsible for your own media consumption. This is a work of fiction that may contain mature themes. If you are sensitive to those subjects, please do not read.

---

Once Hangman and Phoenix stop yelling over each other, Bob doesn't bother trying to unshrink from himself. Hangman finally walked away, red in the face and angry. He wanted to hit Bob, he really did, but he knew better than to hit a fellow Aviator in the Hard Deck. So, to keep his fits at bay, he turned on his heel and headed for the front door- he needed to take a walk. That walk turned into red taillights shining through the windows of the Hard Deck, tires squealing as he took off. 

Phoenix pulled herself up into one of the stools, the tension of her body wearing on her muscles. Bob slides up next to her, still curled in on himself. The pair sit in silence, the bustle of the bar filling the air around them. The jukebox plays some off-radio country song that Bob catches bits and pieces of as the noise from the crowd ebbs and flows. 

It makes him think of her, how she still invades the pieces of his life the same way the song reaches his ears. Just when he hasn't thought of her, the memory of her would cross his mind again. And just a half a hour ago, she was standing right in front of him and he didn't even recognize her. That kills him. It makes all of the yelling he endured feel justified. 

"I can't believe this," Natasha's voice is quiet now, her fingertips buried in the slicked back hair of her bun. "Goddamn it Bob! How am I supposed to bring her back to our place now? How am I supposed to ask her to come back to a place that is basically yours- I'm just sleeping in your fucking guest room,"

Bob opens his mouth to try and argue that the house is just as much hers as it is his, even though it's not technically true. He owns the house, hell, he owns a house outside of each base he has been stationed at. The moment he was no longer bound to the barracks with in processing, he went out and purchased something. A new home that never quite felt right. His pockets have always been lined with money from his Father's oil business- not that any of his fellow Aviators knew that fact. 

It was easy to keep that secret, since no one really asked about him anyway. And when he moved Natasha in, he conveniently failed to mention that the house was paid off.  She didn't ask, and he liked it that way. Just another way he could put space between the person he used to be and the person he is becoming. The person he is now is a work in quiet progress- at least it was until Sunny walked into the bar tonight. 

"Oh my God, Sunny, I've been in here yelling at you instead of going after her!" Phoenix is disappointed in herself as she speaks, "God, Bob, you know I care about you, right? You're my back seater and I will continue doing everything in my power to make sure you make it home each day, but, I can't even stand to look at you right now. I've gotta go find Sunny,"

Natasha doesn't even make it two steps towards the door before Bob speaks.  

"Rooster followed her out," He hooks a thumb behind him, gesturing to the back door, "They went that way, and I-" Bob's eyes glaze over with tears, anger bubbling inside of him at the thought of his fellow Aviator out with her. 

"What is it?" Phoenix asks, her voice softer than it had been all night.

"If I hadn't lost her before, I sure have now," 

Phoenix moves to Bob's side, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You and I are going to talk tonight, about everything," She gives it a reassuring squeeze with as much emotion as she can muster before she is out the back door, leaving Bob alone in the crowded bar. 

For the first time since he started hanging out at the Hard Deck, Bob reaches into his back pocket, pulling out his silver cigarette case. He plucks one of the small Cigarillos from the confines of the case, placing it between his teeth. With the strike of a match he lights the cigar; the smell of cherry tobacco permeates the air around him. The nicotine fills his lungs, and yet, he feels no less heavy.  

---

"You know what really gets me?" Sunny mutters, a weak smile pulling over her lips. She leans her head back against Rooster's shoulder, sticky trails of past shed tears still damp on her cheeks. She balances an elbow on her knee, her hand coming up to brush over her brow. "God, it's so stupid," 

"What's that?" Bradley gives her elbows a small squeeze, encouraging her to continue. 

"He didn't even smell like himself," Her words are quiet but so sure, yet she speaks them with a shake of her head. She tries to dismiss them the moment they leave her lips, slightly ashamed that she admitted that fact to a stranger. 

"What do you mean?" Bradley leans a little, craning his neck to try and get a look at her face. He takes her hand from her brow, giving him a better look at her face now that she isn't hiding behind her hand. He gives it a gentle squeeze before letting go. 

"Bobby, he-" A small sniffle breaks her sentence apart, "He has always smelled exactly like the tobacco he smokes, you know? It's cherry and smokey and full and God, that fucking smell gets me every single time, and yet, he- it wasn't-" Sunny attempts to keep more crying at bay, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. She lays her other hand over Bradley's shin, her nails digging into the light fabric of his jeans. 

Bradley knows he shouldn't ask, but the confusion of the whole situation causes the words to leave his lips faster than his brain can stop them. 

"Bob smokes?" 

The question causes the loose hiccup of a sob to morph into a giggle, the whole thing sounding rather painful to Bradley, but a Sunny's lips quirk up in the corners. 

"We are talking about the same person, right?" Sunny asks, wiping her her cheeks with her fingertips, "Bob Floyd, ladies man, notoriously rude but hard working so people tend to look past it, always walking around with the smell of tobacco caked to his clothes, that Bob Floyd?" 

"I don't think we are talking about the same Bob Floyd, here Sunshine," Bradley admits, a light hint of laughter in his tone. 

"Yeah, I'm starting to put that together," Sunny almost grumbles, her demeanor slumping along with her body. 

"Hey, am I interrupting something?" Phoenix's voice breaks through the solitude Sunny and Bradley had found themselves in. Her words come out a bit apprehensively, unsure of how Sunny is going to take her presence. 

"No, not at all," Bradley chimes in, squeezing the tops of Sunny's arms. She takes the cue, scootching herself forward and away from his embrace. Bradley pulls himself from the ground, "Take my place, I think you guys need to talk," 

He moves past Phoenix, a small, knowing smile on his face. He gives her shoulder a reassuring squeeze as he passes her, one that Natasha answers with a small upturn of her lips. She moves into the spot Rooster had just been occupying, sitting Sunny between her legs and pulling her friend back into her own chest. 

"I see Bradley's mothering instincts got to you, too," Phoenix starts, feeling out the situation, "He has sat with me like this too. It was something his Mother used to do with him after his Father died. I think it's the only way he knows how to comfort some-," 

"I owe you an apology," Sunny's cuts her friend off, leaning just a bit away from her chest. 

"What? No. I owe you and apology!" Natasha counters, grabbing at Sunny's shoulders. 

"How could you have possibly known that your back seater is the man who broke my heart, huh?" Sunny laughs a small, tired laugh. Tears would run down her face if she hadn't been to dehydrated to cry. "I was the one who freaked out- God, I never thought I would see him again. I was purposely planning on avoiding the class reunion just so I wouldn't have to- I just, I should've been more adult about the situation. I feel like such an idiot."

Sunny hugs her knees to her chest, laying her chin atop them. Natasha rubs her friend's back carefully, her touch gentle over the exposed skin. She isn't quite sure what to say, so she just keeps reassuring Sunny that she isn't an idiot, no matter if she felt like one. 

Phoenix goes over the sleeping arrangements in her head, Sunny was supposed to be in the empty bedroom across from her own, the guest bedroom that just to happened to share a jack and jill bathroom with Bob's. 

When they moved in, he insisted that she take the master bedroom, claiming something about how women need more space. Nat found it ridiculous at the time, the dated concept no doubt having come from the mouth of his Mother as justification for his sister having the larger bedroom as children. But, since it worked in her favor, she didn't argue. The arrangement hadn't posed a problem until now. 

"I can practically hear you thinking," Sunny chimes in, tapping the hands that sit on her own shoulders. Natasha shakes her head, lacing Sunny's fingers with her own. 

"I am just-" Natasha takes a deep breath, bringing her forehead to rest on Sunny's shoulder, "I don't want to bring you back to my place now... Bob and I live together and I don't want to make things worse for you," 

"Nash, I am a big girl," A little low laugh escapes Sunny's lips, "Most of the time, at least. I can be civil. I didn't throw my drink on him, now did I?" 

Natasha laughs at that, the sound a bit strangled as it leaves her throat. 

"It's either that or you go stay with Hangman," Natasha jokes, her tone a bit too straight. 

"I think that man might lose his mind if I am inside of his house," Sunny tightens her grip on Nat's hand, squeezing her fingers. "And I think the Navy would be pretty mad to find out that one of their Aviators died because a woman was sleeping in the next room," 

"You're totally right," There is a sort of joy in Natasha's voice now, "I'd of offered to make Rooster take you, but I'm not making you sleep on his awful couch, that is a special form of punishment," 

Sunny pushes herself up from Natasha's grasp. When she gets to her feet she turns to look at Natasha, a small smile on her lips. That was a look Natasha was happy to share with her friend, a smile of her own on her lips. 

"Then lets get going home, okay? I desperately need a shower. I feel like I look like someone just found me dead in a river with all this crying. I can practically feel how swollen my face is," Sunny runs her hands under her eyes, trying to wipe away the feeling of the sticky trails of tears that have dried to her skin.  

"You are the most beautiful corpse I've ever seen," Natasha winks, taking Sunny's outstretched hands. She pulls Nat up from the sand, neither of them bothering to brush the sand from their clothes. 

They head around the outside of the building, arms link together. "I need to grab my bag from the back of Jake's truck, then we can head out, I'll order a rideshare to come pick us up," Sunny speaks as the round the corner to the parking lot. 

"Oh god," Nat wipes her hand down her face, another large sigh escaping her lips. "Hangman left a while ago, pissed beyond belief and God only knows where he is now. I doubt he is at home, probably off at some Civ Bar, drinking up a storm. I'll call him, but you probably won't get your bag back until tomorrow," 

"Fuck, okay," Sunny sounds defeated. 

"Hey, ladies!" Rooster's voice breaks through the breeze. He is leaned up against a large blue Toyota Bronco, arms crossed over his chest. The tear stains are still lightly visible on his shirt, but it has been tucked back in. "Your chariot awaits!" 

Natasha shoots a look to Sunny, both shrugging before making their way to Rooster. Sunny lets out a large yawn, her hands coming up to shield her face. 

"Hey, Rooster, I've gotta call Hangman and see if we can track down Sunny's bag, do you mind hanging out a minute?"

"Not at all, Phoenix, not at all," He smiles widely at the pair, "How you feeling, Sunshine?"

"I'm livin' the dream," Sunny speaks through another yawn, her eyelids beginning to droop. 

"Want to climb in the back and lay down until we can get the situation with your bag sorted out?" Bradley opens the door, gesturing in with a wave of his hand. Sunny turns to see Natasha dialing her phone again, pacing back and fourth just a few feet away.

"Sounds like a plan," Sunny moves towards Rooster, taking his outstretched hand. She grabs onto the rail inside the door with her other before hoisting herself into the large vehicle. She moves around the folded down front seat before practically throwing herself against the bench in the back. 

"Close your eyes, Sunshine. You deserve a rest. I'll wake you when we get to where we are going. For now, I'm gonna wrangle Phoenix and then we will head out, okay?" Rooster places a kind hand on the ankle of her boot. All Sunny can do is nod, a makeshift sound of agreeance coming from behind her closed lips. 

She tucks a hand underneath her head before drifting off, her other hand resting over her stomach. Bradley slides the front seat back so Natasha can slide herself in before he waves her over. 

"Any luck?" He asks her, the breeze caressing his skin. He runs a hand through his hair, messing the already unkempt curls atop his head. 

"No," Natasha joins Rooster's side, looking at Sunny curled up in the back seat. "I guess we head home and I'll head to his place tomorrow and grab it from the truck myself. God knows where he ran off to tonight," 

Rooster agrees with a silent nod as Phoenix climbs into the passenger seat of the Bronco. She buckles her seatbelt hastily as Bradley climbs into the drivers side. He buckles his seatbelt as the engine roars to life, the whole vehicle shaking a bit. The group pulls of of the parking lot, headed towards Bob and Natasha's house. 

[anthrofreshtodeath]

Long time no see! 😂

How about "slowly intertwining fingers while the other is driving" ?

It's been awhile! This one is kind of angst-lite.

___

Jane wants only to drive. She wants to rev the engine of her cruiser; she longs for the satisfaction that cutting and weaving through traffic gives her. It’s asshole behavior, she knows - but she’s an asshole. She relishes being an asshole, especially when she’s angry and especially when she’s been handcuffed, when someone bridles her rage and forces her to swallow it down. 

Hope Martin and Paddy Doyle are quite good at that. 

So are the guards at the maximum security prison she’s just left with Hope and Maura in tow, because they quite literally would have cuffed her if she’d leapt over the table to throttle Paddy like she’d wanted to. But Paddy, and Hope, know that fact intimately. And that’s why Hope waited to be forced to talk to Paddy. And why Paddy shut up about Hope. They knew the only safe place for them to see one another and still get Jane and Maura the information they needed was to do it in prison. 

Because, like they surmised, Jane wants to kill the both of them. She wants to kill both of them with her bare hands and she wants to whip through the streets of Boston like a maniac and she can do neither.

Standstill traffic on the bridge back into the city.

It’s a one sentence horror-story to every Bostonian, really. But even more so to Jane today. Hope, coward that she is, has stayed completely silent in the backseat on the way into town, despite all the revelatory, criminal shit she shared in the interrogation room. Maura, saint that she is, also remains quiet, peering out the window of the passenger side while rain starts pelting it, sending periodic glances Jane’s way.

And Jane’s embarrassed by it, though she’d never say so out loud. It’s fucking embarrassing to have all this fire and nowhere to put it. To be so angry and to be so close to two confessed lawbreakers who repeatedly lied to and used their relationship with Maura to manipulate her and do nothing? Jane’s foot might punch a hole through the floor of the Crown Vic. All she can really do is shove her left leg against the driver’s side door, her knee up to the window, and squeeze the wheel until her knuckles blanche. Which means, on top of all the hellish shit she just endured, Maura now has to watch. She’s gotta make room for Jane’s mood. That makes Jane madder, more ashamed.

It reaches an apex when Maura resettles, apparently tired of counting raindrops, and releases a calming breath when her shoulders press against the padding of her seat - she lets the hand that had rested against her own face fall into her lap, and sneaks the other over to Jane’s on the console. 

Jane’s brows furrow and she considers yanking herself away. More than wanting to wound, Maura shouldn’t have to do this. Hold onto her weakness like this, pacify this. But Jane stays, because Maura’s fingers wrap slowly around her own, and the touch is warm and sweet and hot all at once as the cold from the outside threatens to seep in. 

So, Jane accepts the calming of the beast. Until, that is, Maura says something.

“I know you’ll never make me walk through those doors,” she says darkly to Jane, eyes stormy and assured. “You’ll never be the reason I go back.”

And then Jane realizes… their hands. Hope leans, is angled so that her gaze lines up right with their union. Maura speaks, her voice carrying toward the middle of the cab, so that Hope can hear. Jane understands that it isn’t placation at all - it’s a point. My relationship will never be as ugly and twisted as yours. Your relationship is and forever will be beneath mine. Maura has simply used Jane to make it.

Jane finds she likes being used much more than she likes being pitied. Even if she still wants to slap the bubble light on and burn through all the cars in front of them.

[russetfoxfur]

so i dont usually do liveblogs because i never show up to streams and also im not very good at reacting to stuff. However. i will make an exception because HGCZ IS OUT!! and i have seen so much hype about it that id be a fool to not at least read it. livereact will be under the cut for spoilers and. stuff.

- ok we arent even on the actual ZINE and the opening dedication?? "Of the arts, storytelling is one of the oldest: humanity weaves an endless tapestry of heart, hope, and home that continues to shape us all to this day. To tell a story is to bridge the gap between yesterday and tomorrow; to tell a story is to inextricably connect us all." THAT OPENING PARAGRAPH DUDE

- interesting premise. im intrigued. though i am a little concerned about the "classist violence" and "body modification" warnings. I suspect this is not all Fun and Games

- "I gotta say, "Hot"Guy, this is pretty disappointing. You can be AverageGuy. MediocreGuy." "Oh! "Guy"!" the best part is this is so in-character for them to do

- the ENTIRE EXPLANATION bit omg. joel trying to interject and comic-style getting talked over, lizzie robbing cats instead of cash... and her backstory...

- i. that sudden style shift is not in fact comical and i am now eyeing the unreality warning at the beginning of the zine with sudden alarm. should i be alarmed by this? maybe this is fine. lets say its fine

- JELLIE! hcing her supername is HotCat. she DEFINITELY needs a matching HotGuy costume. and i am somewhat more reassured!

- wait hold on. went back to that first hotguy comic to see the warnings (hidden in the title, missed them) and. WAIT WAS THAT REWRITING FUCKIN MIND CONTROL

- UNREALITY MINDCONTROL SCOPOPHOBIA AND INJURY??? WAIT HOLD ON IM REREADING THIS

- wait. WAIT THAT PANEL. THAT ONE WHERE JOEL SEES HOTGUY REWROTE THE ANIMAL CONTROL VAN TO BE A MONEY VAN. WAIT A FUCKING SECOND WE ARENT EVEN TEN PAGES INTO THE ZINE AND HOLY SHIT

- joels the only one who can SEE HES DOING THIS SO HOTGUY WRITES HIM OUT. JESUS FUCKIN CHRIST. HOTGUY??? UFHODQPHFWJPFAP AND THEN HE "GOES BACK TO THE DRAWING BOARD" AND FUCKIN REWRITES REALITY TO MAKE HIMSELF SEEM COOLER. BUT REWRITTEN HOTGUY HAS THE SAME PLASTIC EXPRESSION. JESUS FUCKING CHRIST THIS IS ONLY ONE COMIC I THINK YOURE LYING ABOUT HIS SUPERPOWER MUTATION WHATEVER

- ALRIGHT SWIFTLY ON. WE WILL EYE HOTGUY WITH CONCERN BUT MOVE ON NONETHELESS

- :0 cuteguy appears! doody did rlly good work on this one!

- CUTEGUY IS AWESOME!!! those WINGS... agh i love comic bubbles they just have so much personality and those icy words... and cuteguy pointing HOTGUYS OWN ARROW back at him..... you could not have made a better introduction holy shit

- and then he just flies off. awesome. we should all aspire to be the same level of cool as cuteguy.

- ren would be able to just say hotguy like that. also sidenote i am hearing all these lines in my head as im reading so writers youve all done fantastically!

- UNIONIZE! UNIONIZE! UNIONIZE!

- is pearl... a journalist? or is this the wrong gal? if she is a journalist then good for her!

- oh :( everyone hates unionizing the vigelantes. sad but realistic :(

- MUMBLR?? DID MUMBO K JUMBO BECOME THE OWNER OF TUMBLR IN THIS AU? DID HE KILL MATT PHOTOSPACE WHOEVER THE CEO OF TUMBLR IS? DID THEY FISTFIGHT TO THE DEATH? THAT HAPPENED RIGHT. THATS THE ONLY THING ILL ACCEPT AS CANON. IN THIS AU MUMBLR IS TRANS-FRIENDLY! 🎉

- sweetferaline (bahm bahm bahhh)

- ok this is incredibly funny. teeth dog ftw

- CHATTER AND M JESUS CHRIST THIS IS NOW THE BEST SEGMENT IN THE ENTIRE ZINE. AMAZING COMEBACK THIS IS SO REALISTIC

- and the reply sections are always a cesspool! glad they got that right

- PIXLRIFFS RUNNING A BLOG ON TUMBLR TO EXPLAIN HERMITOPIA. THIS IS SO IN CHARACTER

- THE MAPLE PRINCE. THE MAPLE PRINCE

- THIS ENTIRE MUMBLR DASH WAS PURE COMEDY GOLD. FIVE OUT OF FIVE STARS & HATS OFF TO THE WRITER

- ARIANA GRIANDE!!!! WOOOOO <3 <3 WE LOVE YOU GRIANDE!!!!!

- and now permit office grian! we are going through so many different iterations of grian... imagine we get poultry man next

- is that GEM??? IS GEM A VILLAIN? also i dont really know who the hippies are... idk its just hard for me to recognize this artstyle ig

- WAIT. HAS GEM BEEN SPYING ON GRIAN'S DETECTIVITY? or am i just reading this all wrong? i might be reading this all wrong

- alright i might have to reread that one-- WAIT MORE MIND CONTROL. AND BODY MODIFICATION??? THE MISSING CUB... guys if this is sculk!cub im gonna maul someone

- AAAA BEHIND YOU HOTGUY (i called it)

- also love how i instantly went "oh a tibbycaps comic!"

- ok i LOVE this panel where they figure out Arson. the way both conclusions are reached in tandem! and also YAY WOOO ARSON THIS BITCH UP 🔥

- OH MY GOD THIS IS HILARIOUS I LOVE HOW THE abrupt cut to disaster WAS DONE IN COMIC FORM

- THAT MERCH DESIGN IN THE NOTES APP ABSOLUTELY FUCKING SENT ME DUDE

- "i use sculk to season my pizza" ah. I see. typical cubfan behavior. carry on

- "None of us are perfect, despite what you say might feel when you look at me" this Bdubs email is SO IN-CHARACTER

- " i replied to some of these but then i kinda got bored and started sending links to cool space facts instead" honestly this is what i would do too. and i would be happy to get cool space facts in return for my hotguy email. i dont see what the issue is here

- oh is cuteguy taking issues with the supernovae. skill issue tbh

- this whole cuteguy-cub email chain is HILARIOUS. scratch that this whole email segment is hilarious jesus christ. grian is being SO BITCHY and im HERE FOR IT

- PEARLIPOP IS A REPORTER! YES! and zedaphs in this au! he isnt even going under wormman??? shocking (< says a zedaph fangirl who is completely fixated on one passing mention of him)

- oh my god this is the best storytelling format ever. the panicked exchanges between cuteguy n cub, pearl reporting as she is wont to do... genuinely i love this so much i am giggling so much im actually gonna stop liveblogging because i just want to read this. ill be with yall in a moment

- actually never mind "if he waits too long to answer it starts to play the whole Lilo and Stitch movie audio" cub i love you so much. hgcz i love you so much i almost forgive you for that very jarring first comic

- it looks like we have seven or so more years before hotguy becomes a reality... new reasons to live. also the chatter discourse is insane from what ive seen doc does just act Like That on twit/chatter

- "sumagram" well i guess we know who owns that now

- :000 HOTCAT APPEARS!!!!! WE LOVE YOU HOTCAT <3333333 EVERYONE GIVE IT UP FOR OUR BELOVED HOTCAT!!!

- THE AWKWARD EXIT. i love it

- I SEE THAT BIG SALMON DONT THINK I DONT

- SHIRTLESS SCAR.... im aroace but like. i can still admire a shirtless man cant i. artist did a good job

- NO YOU DID NOT PUT A LILACS AND POPPIES REFERENCE IN THIS COMIC I AM GNAWING THE ARTIST OF THIS COMIC WITH MY TEETH YOU ARE MAKING ME INSANE DEAR GOD THEY TEAMED UP BUT HOW IS THIS GOING TO END AAAAAA HOTGUY DONT DIE IN THE CACTUS RING PLEASE BUDDY

- CREEPER AW MAN

- horsegirl hotguy... wild stallion cuteguy... someone needs to write this au. i should write this au. actually hold on *scribbles furiously in my "crackfic ideas" notes* carry on

- update: now listening to scheming weasel for atmosphere.

- “Who’s the more foolish: the fool, or the fools who follow him?” stellar line. only a certified HotGuy can produce lines like these

- "after a tick or two" if hermitopians measure time in ticks like minecrafters do then thats such a cool worldbuilding detail

- FOR A MOMENT I THOUGHT THEY WERE GOING TO BURN DOC AND HIS LACKEYS ALIVE. THANK GODS THEY DIDNT

- testing of new weapons montage! i know hotguy is the star of the show here but god i love cub so much more. can cub be the "protagonist" here instead actually

- i. i have suspicions that cub is not sculk-free. or is this a flutterbat situation where it is all dealt with but its not but actually it is but it also kinda isnt? yknow. im gonna write this off as a flutterbat thing but i will still be keeping a very close eye on cub

- *snort* deep enough to hold twelve pieces of bamboo (i am such a sucker for in-jokes)

- grian is warming up to scar... also hotguy bandaids

- AND I GET THAT REFERENCE TOO!! very clever! grian shut up its two in the morning! "Scar doesn’t seem to know how to react, his mouth falling open and then promptly shutting again." same grian why would you bring up the nose hair incident and to an unsuspecting hotguy no less smh learn sone manners

- you know what if grian can learn first aid from the nose hair incident in alaska then scar can get injured in a volleyball incident (i have never watched scar which yes is a skill issue but also if this is also a reference i would not get it). beloved desertduo who cannot lie to save their fuckin lives

- THAT ENDING COMIC IS HILARIOUS. SUCH A SCAR THING TO DO

- alright im gonna take a break from liveblogging rn! i will be back in (my) morning with scheming weasel and a renewed spirit. goodnight yall! <3

[miles-and-waylon]

A Betrayal of the Worst Kind

Camerashipping and fluff, what could be better?

Miles ‘punishing’ Waylon and Lisa’s of no help.

-

Being on the run and trying to take down a major corrupt corporation with near infinite resources take a toll on a man. Waylon kept his mind away from his stint at Mount Massive by working. Lisa was the one keeping them up on personal maintenance (and driving a majority of the time), Miles handled the execution of dangerous ideas (given the fact he was already dead), and Waylon was the planner.

He was almost always on his laptop, a laptop protected by a motherload of security measures as he’d learned to use after getting caught that first time. He only stopped for long when it came to eating and sleeping, and when one of his partners got fed up and forced a break.

In another cheap motel found on some highway in the middle of nowhere, with Lisa out getting food from the gas station next door, Miles smacked his laptop shut just after he saved his newest project. Before he could even complain, he was laid out across the couch, hips straddled by his dangerous captor.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Waylon tried to protest, squirming as his death-cold grip tugged up his shirt. “Bad time! What if Lisa walks in?”

“I mean, the last time she walked in on us, she seemed quite happy with what she was seeing. Did you really tuck a t-shirt into a pair of sweatpants? You’re such a geek it’s painful.”

Waylon bucked up his hips, kicked his legs, tried to swat away his hands—all to no avail. He proved absolutely terrible in a struggle when his life wasn’t on the line. “Are you judging how I wear pajamas? Are you kidd—“ Miles fingers came in contact with his stomach, nails dragging down against his skin. Immediately, the pinned man turtled into himself.

“I was curious, you know, at our last stop. I brushed up against your side, and you jumped juuust enough for me to notice, and you said that I scared you!”

“Miles—“

“Ah-ah! You said that, but I’ve seen how you startle. That wasn’t it. I’m still a journalist, Way. A bored journalist! When I think I’ve been lied to, that’s when my gears get working.” He wore the most evil grin, contrasting with Waylon’s suddenly wide, terrified eyes. He scribbled slowly, teasingly across exposed flesh. “Did you lie? Did I really startle you?”

“Miles,” he began again, voice wavering. Waylon twisted to press his face into the dusty couch cushion beside him. “Really? A-are you held up on a lit…” He paused to swear. It was the only way to keep a giggle from getting out right then. “…little thing like that? I don’t even remember it!” Journalist or not, who would realistically be able to tell a startled flinch from having sensitive sides?

“Well, honestly, I only remembered it because I basically have nothing to do right now. Doesn’t change that you lied. You lied, and you’ve been neglecting me. I think that’s worthy of a little punishment, don’t you?” Then he found those sensitive sides to attack in earnest.

“Wait! Wait, wait—!” God, then the *buzzing* started. There was no point trying to resist after that. His brief exposure to the engine was still enough to make poor Waylon more receptive to sensing the Walrider’s presence, and he’d be damned if the sudden hum of nanites against his body wasn’t an abuse of power! He broke out into sweet, bubbly laughter, unsure if he should try to protect himself or keep trying to push him away.

Then came a glimmer of hope.

Lisa came through the door right then, plastic bags full of food and much-needed toiletries hanging from her arms. She quickly realized she arrived to a scene of chaos. Her expression turned into curiosity and bemusement.

“Lisa!” Waylon gasped. He threw his arm out towards her in a pleading gesture. “Lisa, help me! Please!”

To his horror, as she realized what was going on, her look twisted into a traitorous smile. “You gotta go lower,” she advised. “Get his hips. He can’t take it. It’s adorable.”

Was this the woman he married? One so willing to throw him under the bus like that? His shock was interrupted by Miles gleefully following her instructions. Laughter turned to mirthful, unmanly squeaks and squeals echoing across the walls of the room.

“Let me put away what I got for us, then I’ll come help.” She better mean help him! “It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to see him like this.” Apparently not.

He was doomed.

[chavisory]

HOLDING VIGIL

My cousin asks if I can describe this moment, the heaviness of it, like sitting outside the operating room while someone you love is in surgery and you’re on those awful plastic chairs eating flaming Doritos from the vending machine which is the only thing that seems appealing to you, dinner-wise, waiting for the moment when the doctor will come out in her scrubs and face-mask, which she’ll pull down to tell you whether your beloved will live or not. That’s how it feels as the hours tick by, and everyone I care about is texting me with the same cold lump of dread in their throat asking if I’m okay, telling me how scared they are. I suppose in that way this is a moment of unity, the fact that we are all waiting in the same hospital corridor, for the same patient, who is on life support, and we’re asking each other, Will he wake up? Will she be herself? And we’re taking turns holding vigil, as families do, and bringing each other coffee from the cafeteria, and some of us think she’s gonna make it while others are already planning what they’ll wear to the funeral, which is also what happens at times like these, and I tell my cousin I don’t think I can describe this moment, heavier than plutonium, but on the other hand, in the grand scheme of things, I mean the whole sweep of human history, a soap bubble, because empires are always rising and falling, and whole civilizations die, they do, they get wiped out, this happens all the time, it’s just a shock when it happens to your civilization, your country, when it’s someone from your family on the respirator, and I don’t ask her how she’s sleeping, or what she thinks about when she wakes at three in the morning, cause she’s got two daughters, and that’s the thing, it’s not just us older people, forget about us, we had our day and we burned right through it, gasoline, fast food, cheap clothing, but right now I’m talking about the babies, and not just the human ones, but also the turtles and owls and white tigers, the Redwoods, the ozone layer, the icebergs for the love of God—every single blessed being on the face of this earth is holding its breath in this moment, and if you’re asking, can I describe that, Cousin, then I’ve gotta say no, no one could describe it we all just have to live through it, holding each other’s hands.

—from Poets Respond

[oysters-aint-for-me]

HOLDING VIGIL

by Alison Luterman

My cousin asks if I can describe this moment,

the heaviness of it, like sitting outside

the operating room while someone you love

is in surgery and you’re on those awful plastic chairs

eating flaming Doritos from the vending machine

which is the only thing that seems appealing to you, dinner-wise,

waiting for the moment when the doctor will come out

in her scrubs and face-mask, which she’ll pull down

to tell you whether your beloved will live or not. That’s how it feels

as the hours tick by, and everyone I care about

is texting me with the same cold lump of dread in their throat

asking if I’m okay, telling me how scared they are.

I suppose in that way this is a moment of unity,

the fact that we are all waiting in the same

hospital corridor, for the same patient, who is on life support,

and we’re asking each other, Will he wake up?

Will she be herself? And we’re taking turns holding vigil,

as families do, and bringing each other coffee

from the cafeteria, and some of us think she’s gonna make it

while others are already planning what they’ll wear to the funeral,

which is also what happens at times like these,

and I tell my cousin I don’t think I can describe this moment,

heavier than plutonium, but on the other hand,

in the grand scheme of things, I mean the whole sweep

of human history, a soap bubble, because empires

are always rising and falling, and whole civilizations

die, they do, they get wiped out, this happens

all the time, it’s just a shock when it happens to your civilization,

your country, when it’s someone from your family on the respirator,

and I don’t ask her how she’s sleeping, or what she thinks about

when she wakes at three in the morning,

cause she’s got two daughters, and that’s the thing,

it’s not just us older people, forget about us, we had our day

and we burned right through it, gasoline, fast food,

cheap clothing, but right now I’m talking about the babies,

and not just the human ones, but also the turtles and owls

and white tigers, the Redwoods, the ozone layer,

the icebergs for the love of God—every single

blessed being on the face of this earth

is holding its breath in this moment,

and if you’re asking, can I describe that, Cousin,

then I’ve gotta say no, no one could describe it

we all just have to live through it,

holding each other’s hands.

[starlightshadowsworld]

Behind the Hockey Mask part 6

(this where I'd usually link the other parts however I can't got the life of me find em so

Link A03 full fic)

. @moonlover04

Donnie loved puzzles.

He was someone who liked to take concepts that others were stumped by and try and figure them out.

The world outside their sewer was vast, full of mysteries and puzzles to discover and solve.

Casey Jones was one such puzzle.

April’s best friend had showed up at the lair one day and turned the turtles lives upside down.

Now another human knew of their existence. So naturally they were all curious about learning more about this human who was so unlike their April and yet who’s personality seemed to compliment hers.

It should have been that straight forward but like so many things tended to be, it was anything but.

Their was a mystery behind that hockey mask.

As fast as he came I got their lives, Casey vanished into the night.

In fact if it weren’t for the others accounts of the event and April’s confirmation, Donnie would have assumed that he had merely imagined him.

But no, Casey Jones was as real as they were.

"What’s he like?" Asked Donnie to April as they finished up some chemistry homework she had been stuck on.

April smiled, putting the sheets away and giving him her full attention. Something that never failed to make Donnie feel just that little bit lighter.

Don’t get him wrong, he loved his brothers dearly but it was rare he was given someone’s attention.

"Kind, he’s the one who got me to come back to you all after our falling out." Replied April, now she had all of their attention.

She was good at that, picking her words carefully and cautiously. April O’Neil could command a crowd if given the chance.

"What did he say?" Asked Mikey, laying on his stomach propped up by his elbows.

"That their are things that get out of your control, it happens and it’s okay to be scared of when it does.

You can’t control everything, somethings you gotta see out to the end.” Replied April, the words engraved in her heart after they’d been spoken to her.

"Casey said that he didn’t knew you guys but knew you’d be concerned about the way we’d left things and would want to know if I was okay, that that was more important than our fight."

Donnie smiled, as did the rest of his brothers.

"He was right" said Leo thoughtfully.

Donnie wondered if Leo was trying to reconcile the image of the witty boy who had taken his katana to his throat with the boy who had said these insightful words to April.

It was bizarre to think those two images came from the same person.

It only increased Donnie’s interest.

April chuckled "Casey’s like that you know, he comes across as this sarcastic kid who has a serious problem with authority and while yeah he is absolutely that.

He was worried about me when we barely knew each other. He never talks about himself but ask him about his little sister that he can talk for hours."

Raph nodded "and despite not knowing who we were and being threatened he still fought with us to defend our home."

Donnie could tell Raph respected the other teen, their fight together had bonded them in some way.

Master Splinter always said you knew a true warriors intentions when you battled alongside them.

And from what he had heard, Casey was shaping up to be quite the good guy.

"Oh, oh we should invite him for movie night tonight!" Said Mikey with a grin, giving Leo puppy dog eyes that their fearless leader….fell for each and every time.

"Fine but he better not get tracked this time" said Leo but even he couldn’t keep his curiosity from getting the better of him.

April grinned, already picking up her t-phone.

Casey picked up on the third ring.

"Red?"

"Hey Case, the guys wanted to know if you wanted to hang out tonight. We’re having our annual movie night."

She could hear some shuffling in the background and waited patiently.

"Yeah? Yeah sure" he said after a few seconds, April could just about keep her excitement from bubbling through.

She had been asking Casey for a while if he wanted to hang out with her and the guys but he had always refused. Saying he didn’t want to interrupt, but he had agreed!

"Can you pick the pizza up on your way!" Asked Mikey, grabbing hold of the t-phone.

Casey snorted but agreed, taking the address and saying goodbye to April who agreed to meet him at the sewer entrance.

April squealed, taking Mikey hands and spinning them both in a circle to his and the others amusement.

With that, April headed out dismissing the others asks if they wanted her to go with them. She knew the layout by now.

However, as she waited for Casey to show up she swore she saw something like pollen hit her….before everything went dark.

[bisamwilson]

WIP meme: 🗣️ ❌ 💗

thanks for the ask, zainab!!! <3

🗣️: Talk about your favourite WIP

ahhhh this is a hard question because generally my favorite WIP is whichever one i can be assed to work on at any given moment, which is currently none of them rip. but if i had to choose one, it's probably gotta be "buy me some peanuts and cracker jack (i don't care if i never get back)" aka the baseball au!!!

i've got a lot of various things planned for this one, all kind of etched out in a vary long conversation in mysu, but the basic plot is sam and bucky being fwb-that-both-actually-have-feelings-but-they-won't-tell-each-other-that-bc-they-think-the-other-one-just-wants-sex while being first on rival baseball teams and then on the same baseball team! there's going to be more puns than i probably should make about hitting various bases and the fact that bucky's a catcher and sam's a pitcher and a lot of taking care of each other post game/practice turning into intimacy (ice baths, massages, sam is most definitely gonna get a Weird Thing about IcyHot).

also the least sexy thing about baseball is absolutely its players propensity for dip, so in protest, bucky starts chewing various flavors of bubble gum all the time bc he wanted to be able to chew without the chew. sam's got more than a bit of a Thing for it

❌: What WIP do you find the most challenging? Why?

also a bit of a hard one, just because they're all kind of challenging in their own ways. a lot of the aus just have a lot of worldbuilding that kind of has to be figured out before the au really gets written, which is why those get stalled, so those are by definition challenging

but honestly the most challenging is probably the fic where sam's struggling with an eating disorder and bucky's trying to figure out how to help him, just bc it's a little too personal. it's hard to write, because if i'm not in the perfect headspace for it it'll either end up being triggering or just making the already bad food days worse. i really like that fic, but i knew when i started it it'd be a surprise if i ever finished it

also i have no idea how i would end it, because it's a struggle that continues to be ongoing for me (and would probably be the same way with sam)

💗: Is there a scene you can’t wait to write for a WIP?

ooh this is a good question!! i've got a couple bits of the star wars au i'm excited about!!! i think i want to flash back to how sam and bucky first met at some point, which i'm excited to flesh out, and also i'm excited to write their eventual post order 66 reunion (which happens like 10 years in the future and will be probably be fairly angsty bc both of them are in Bad Places right now)

send me an emoji from this wip questions list!

[seitmai]

Three weeks later, Jake was sprawled out on the couch in the apartment he shared with Javy, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

This sounds very bachelor pad 😅

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling guilty. “I’ve been… busy,” he muttered, though he knew it was a weak excuse. He hadn’t been great about calling as often as he should have, between missions and keeping up appearances at the base.

I better hope he feels guilty 😒

As Jake held Y/N close, feeling the familiar warmth of her body, something shifted. The weeks of separation, the missed calls, the teasing pictures—all of it came rushing back. His grip tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and before he could think twice, his lips were on hers, kissing her more deeply, more passionately than he had in weeks.

🥰🥰🥰

"You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?" he murmured against her neck, his voice rough with desire. Y/N let out a breathless laugh, her hands sliding down to the waistband of his boxers. "You have no idea," she whispered, tugging him closer. And with that, all the space, all the time between them disappeared as Jake gave in completely, losing himself in the moment with her, finally able to let go of everything except the woman in his arms.

Good for them!

And Bob, the most polite of them all:

Bob: Everything okay?

He is just the cutest 🥹

Y/N chuckled, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest. “You’re keeping me a secret from your friends, huh?” Jake sighed, running his hand through her hair. “It’s not like that, babe. I just… I like keeping things between us for now. Less drama, less questions.” He paused, glancing down at her with a grin. “Besides, you’re my best-kept secret.”

She's like: good god and I married this man and his shenanigans 🙄😅

Jake sighed dramatically, pulling her even closer. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.”

He is so whipped 🤭

Jake held her close, his mind already spinning with how he’d make the introduction. It wasn’t just a casual meet-and-greet with the squad; it was Y/N stepping into his other world, and the thought of it made his heart race with excitement—and just a little bit of nerves.

I get it, I was in a "worlds colliding" kinda scenario a few times and it is STRESSFUL

Javy grinned from where he sat on the couch, leaning back comfortably with one arm slung over the backrest. “Oh, nothing too serious, man. Just giving Y/N the inside scoop on your time with the squad,” he said, raising an eyebrow. Y/N chuckled, turning to look at Jake with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Javy’s been very informative. Apparently, you’ve been quite the pain in everyone’s ass lately.”

Those two are like this🤞🏻😂

Javy laughed, standing up and grabbing his jacket. “Hey, it’s not my fault your wife’s cool to hang with. You’re just jealous.”

Facts 🤭

Phoenix’s eyes widened, excitement bubbling in her voice. “No way! I love that series! I can’t believe this! Hangman, how do you know her? Are you her bodyguard or something?”

First sister, then bodyguard, Phoenix's guess cracked me up 😅

Before Jake could reply, Javy stepped forward with a wide grin, clapping Jake on the back. “Oh, trust me, I’ve known for a while,” Javy said, clearly enjoying the moment. “Y/N’s my bestie. We’ve been tight for years.”

The moment they first met:

Rooster, still leaning on his pool cue, shook his head with a grin. “I gotta hand it to you, Hangman. You talk a big game, but I didn’t think you had this level of stealth in you.”

Big words coming from Rooster 🤭

Fanboy let out a low whistle. “Hangman with a kid? Now I’ve heard it all.”

He's done with the world haha

Bob stared wide-eyed. “You’ve been living this secret life? With a kid?”

This was so funny to me because I also love the "Bob has a secret wives and multiple kids trope" 😅

The rest of the squad stared at Jake and Javy, dumbfounded. Rooster finally shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know whether to be mad or impressed.”

Valid 😂

As the Daggers laughed and continued throwing questions at him, Jake glanced at Y/N, relieved that the secret was out. Meanwhile, Javy was practically glowing with pride, having kept his best friend’s secret under wraps the whole time.

That truly is something to be proud of lol 👏🏻

Secrets out

Summary: The daggers know now...that's good....right?

Warning: Contains alcohol, cursing, teasing, mentions of labour, postpartum, mentions of smut, not detailed smut, nudity.

Word count: 3918 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

English is not my first language so I apologies for mistakes

Could be read alone or as part 5 of the little life universe

Three weeks later, Jake was sprawled out on the couch in the apartment he shared with Javy, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. The lazy afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the room. His mind was wandering, somewhere between half-asleep and awake, when a loud knock echoed through the apartment.

Frowning, Jake pushed himself up, glancing at the door. Javy wasn’t home, so he wasn’t expecting anyone. Another knock, this time more insistent. He stood up, running a hand through his hair as he padded across the floor, pulling open the door without much thought.

Standing in the doorway was Y/N.

For a moment, Jake blinked, his brain not fully processing the sight of her standing there in front of him. She was dressed casually, a light jacket over her shoulders, her hair loose around her face, and a suitcase by her side. She smiled at him, that familiar spark in her eyes, and it was only then that it hit him—she was here.

“Y/N?” he asked, completely shocked. “What… what are you doing here?”

Y/N leaned against the doorframe, her smile widening as she took in the sight of him standing there in just his boxers. “Nice to see you too, Jakey,” she teased, but there was a warmth in her tone that softened the surprise of her sudden arrival.

Jake ran a hand over his face, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “I mean—God, it’s good to see you, but what are you doing here? You didn’t say anything about coming to San Diego.”

Y/N tilted her head, her smile turning sly. “I have a meeting here about my book.” She paused, watching his expression shift. “They’re talking about a movie adaptation.”

That stopped him cold. Jake stared at her, his eyes widening in disbelief. “A movie adaptation? You’re serious?”

Y/N nodded, a soft laugh escaping her. “Yeah, pretty big deal, right?”

He was speechless for a moment, his mind racing. He had known she was an incredible writer, but the idea of her work being turned into a movie? That was huge. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he asked, still processing the news.

Y/N shrugged, her gaze flickering over his face. “Well, I haven’t exactly heard from you in a while.” Her voice was playful, but there was an edge of teasing accusation there.

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly feeling guilty. “I’ve been… busy,” he muttered, though he knew it was a weak excuse. He hadn’t been great about calling as often as he should have, between missions and keeping up appearances at the base.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I noticed. So, I figured I’d come see you in person.”

Still reeling from her unexpected arrival, Jake’s eyes narrowed as he looked around, half-expecting Ellie to pop up from behind her. “Wait… where’s Ellie?”

Y/N smiled softly, stepping inside the apartment and shutting the door behind her. “She’s with your parents. I left her in Texas.”

Jake let out a breath, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment wash over him. “Oh… okay.” As much as he missed Ellie, there was a part of him that was glad to have Y/N here, just the two of them, even if only for a short time.

Y/N stepped closer to him, her hands sliding around his waist as she looked up at him with that knowing smile. “I missed you,” she said softly, her voice carrying the weight of the distance that had grown between them over the last few weeks.

Jake wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer, feeling the warmth of her body against his. “I missed you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

As Jake held Y/N close, feeling the familiar warmth of her body, something shifted. The weeks of separation, the missed calls, the teasing pictures—all of it came rushing back. His grip tightened around her waist, pulling her flush against him, and before he could think twice, his lips were on hers, kissing her more deeply, more passionately than he had in weeks.

Y/N responded instantly, her fingers threading through his hair as she pressed herself closer, the tension between them melting away. His hands roamed down her back, sliding over the curve of her hips, gripping her tighter, but as he started to guide her toward the couch, Y/N pulled back slightly, her breath a little ragged as she smiled against his lips.

“You can touch me everywhere, Jake,” she whispered, her voice low and filled with a playful heat. “I’m past the postpartum weeks. Doctor gave the all-clear.”

Her words sent a thrill through him, and Jake’s heart pounded as his eyes darkened with desire. He met her gaze, that familiar smirk spreading across his face. “You sure about that, darlin’?” he asked, his hands already moving to slide underneath her shirt, feeling the warmth of her skin against his palms.

Y/N nodded, her lips brushing against his. “I’m sure. So, stop holding back.”

That was all the permission Jake needed.

With a low growl, he scooped her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground as he carried her over to the couch. Y/N let out a soft laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck as he laid her down, his hands already exploring her body with a renewed urgency. Every touch, every kiss felt like a reconnection, a way to make up for all the lost time between them.

His fingers traced over her skin, moving with a confidence that came from years of knowing exactly how to make her melt beneath him. And Y/N, for her part, didn’t hold back either—her hands roamed over his chest, down his back, her lips following the path of her hands as she revelled in the closeness they hadn’t had in weeks.

As Jake’s hands found their way under her shirt, pushing it up to reveal more of her skin, Y/N’s breath hitched. She arched into his touch, her body alive with anticipation, and Jake couldn’t help but smirk at the way she responded to him, the way she always did.

"You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?" he murmured against her neck, his voice rough with desire.

Y/N let out a breathless laugh, her hands sliding down to the waistband of his boxers. "You have no idea," she whispered, tugging him closer.

And with that, all the space, all the time between them disappeared as Jake gave in completely, losing himself in the moment with her, finally able to let go of everything except the woman in his arms.

---

Jake lay on the couch with Y/N curled up against his chest, their bodies tangled together under the sheets. The warm glow from the setting sun filtered through the blinds, casting a soft light across the room. His fingers traced lazy patterns along her back, and she sighed contentedly, resting her head on his shoulder. It had been weeks since they had this kind of time alone, and the silence between them was comfortable.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, fully content, his phone buzzed loudly on the coffee table, breaking the peaceful moment. He groaned, reluctant to leave the warmth of her body, but reached over to grab the phone anyway. Unlocking it, he was met with a flood of texts—messages from the squad and one from Javy.

The first message was from Phoenix: Phoenix: Hangman, where the hell are you? We’ve been at the Hard Deck for over an hour. Don’t tell me you bailed again. Then Rooster chimed in: Rooster: Man, this better be good. You keep dodging us. Fanboy followed: Fanboy: If you don’t show, you’re buying all the drinks next time. And Bob, the most polite of them all: Bob: Everything okay?

Finally, a message from Javy: Coyote: Bro, where you at? You’re supposed to be here. You better not be pulling that “family business” excuse again.

Jake chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. Y/N stirred slightly beside him, her head lifting from his chest as she looked up at him through half-lidded eyes. “What’s so funny?” she asked, her voice still soft from the afterglow.

He turned the phone toward her. “The squad. I was supposed to meet them at the Hard Deck tonight.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow as she read the texts. “The squad?” She leaned back a little, curious. “You mean, the ones you barely ever talk about?”

Jake scratched the back of his head, a sheepish grin forming on his face. “Yeah, those guys. Phoenix, Rooster, Fanboy… They give me hell for not showing up to things.”

Y/N smirked. “I’m guessing they don’t know about me either?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Only Javy knows, and even he doesn’t know you flew down here today.”

Y/N chuckled, her fingers brushing lightly against his chest. “You’re keeping me a secret from your friends, huh?”

Jake sighed, running his hand through her hair. “It’s not like that, babe. I just… I like keeping things between us for now. Less drama, less questions.” He paused, glancing down at her with a grin. “Besides, you’re my best-kept secret.”

She rolled her eyes playfully but didn’t press him further. She knew Jake valued his privacy, especially when it came to their relationship. Still, she couldn’t help but be a little curious about the people he spent so much time with. “What do they think you’re doing all the time? You’ve bailed on them a lot.”

Jake chuckled again, locking his phone and setting it aside. “They’ve got their theories. I just tell them I’ve got family business. They think it’s something serious, but I’m not giving them any details.”

Y/N propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at him. “You know, one day they’re gonna figure it out.”

Jake met her gaze, his smile softening. “Maybe. But for now, I’m enjoying having you to myself.” He slid his hand down to her waist, pulling her closer as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

As she settled back against him, Jake’s phone buzzed again, and he reluctantly glanced at it.

Phoenix: Hangman, last chance. If you’re not here in 20 minutes, you’re buying every round next time.

Y/N laughed softly, her breath warm against his skin. “I think they’re serious.”

Jake groaned, shaking his head. “Yeah, they’re not letting this go.” He looked back at her, mischief in his eyes. “But I’d rather stay right here.”

Y/N grinned, tracing her fingers over his chest. “Well, when you do go back, you better buy them all those drinks. You can’t keep ditching them forever.”

Jake sighed dramatically, pulling her even closer. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll deal with that later. Right now, I’m exactly where I want to be.”

Y/N shifted slightly in Jake’s arms, resting her chin on his chest as she gazed up at him. A playful smile tugged at her lips, her fingers tracing slow circles on his skin. “You know,” she began, her voice teasing, “if you’re so worried about them being curious… why don’t I just meet them?”

Jake blinked, caught off guard by her suggestion. He tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Meet them?” he repeated, as if testing the idea out loud.

“Yeah,” Y/N continued, her smile widening. “I mean, it’s not like I’m some big secret. We’ve been married for a year, Jake. Maybe it’s time they knew about me.”

Jake looked down at her, his expression thoughtful. “You want to meet the Daggers?” He asked, half-amused, half-serious. “You know they’re a lot to handle, right?”

Y/N laughed softly, the sound light and warm. “I think I can handle them. I’ve heard enough about Phoenix, Rooster, and the others to feel like I know them already… even if you don’t talk about them much.” She teased him, poking his chest gently. “And besides, it’s better than you making up excuses every time you disappear.”

Jake chuckled, running his hand through his hair as he considered her words. He hadn’t introduced her to his squad, not because he was hiding her, but because he liked the privacy their relationship afforded. The idea of his squad knowing about Y/N and Ellie-Mae felt like crossing into uncharted territory. But looking into her eyes now, with that familiar warmth and playfulness, he realized she was right. They had been married for years, and there was no reason to keep her separate from this part of his life.

“Well,” he said slowly, a grin forming on his face, “if you’re sure about it, I’m not against it.” He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you. They’ll grill you about everything—and once Phoenix gets going, there’s no stopping her.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. “Please, I think I can handle Phoenix.”

Jake laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Alright, darlin’. We’ll make it happen. I’ll figure out a way to get everyone together without causing a scene.”

She smiled, resting her head back on his chest, feeling a little thrill at the thought of finally meeting the people Jake spent so much time with. “Good,” she murmured, closing her eyes. “I’ll look forward to it.”

Jake held her close, his mind already spinning with how he’d make the introduction. It wasn’t just a casual meet-and-greet with the squad; it was Y/N stepping into his other world, and the thought of it made his heart race with excitement—and just a little bit of nerves.

-----

The next day, Jake stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the collar of his shirt as he got ready to head out to the Hard Deck. The plan was set: the Daggers would meet up for drinks, and for the first time, Y/N was going to join them. He felt a mixture of excitement and nervousness about how it would all go down.

As he finished fixing his shirt, Jake could hear the low hum of conversation coming from the living room. Y/N and Javy had been chatting for the last ten minutes, laughing like old friends. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself as he listened in on their conversation from the bedroom.

Walking into the room, he leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest. “Y’all are getting way too close,” Jake teased, eyeing the two of them. “What are you gossiping about this time?”

Javy grinned from where he sat on the couch, leaning back comfortably with one arm slung over the backrest. “Oh, nothing too serious, man. Just giving Y/N the inside scoop on your time with the squad,” he said, raising an eyebrow.

Y/N chuckled, turning to look at Jake with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Javy’s been very informative. Apparently, you’ve been quite the pain in everyone’s ass lately.”

Jake rolled his eyes playfully, shaking his head as he walked over to grab his keys off the table. “Yeah, yeah, don’t believe everything he says.” He pointed at Javy, narrowing his eyes in mock warning. “And you, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

Javy raised his hands in surrender, grinning. “I am! But I’ve also gotta prepare her for Phoenix and Rooster’s questions, man. They’re gonna want to know everything.”

Jake groaned, knowing Javy wasn’t wrong. Phoenix and Rooster wouldn’t hold back once they found out Y/N was his wife. They’d dig for every little detail. “You two are trouble,” he muttered, shaking his head as he pocketed his phone. “Remind me why I invited both of you into my life?”

Y/N stood up, smiling sweetly as she walked over to him. “Because you love me and because my best friend crashed into your wall,” she said, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “And you need Javy to keep you grounded.”

Jake smirked, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Fair point. And that wall took ages to fix.” He looked between her and Javy, shaking his head in amusement. “But I swear, the two of you are like a couple of old ladies when you get together. Gossiping about everything.”

Javy laughed, standing up and grabbing his jacket. “Hey, it’s not my fault your wife’s cool to hang with. You’re just jealous.”

“Damn right, I am,” Jake shot back with a grin, giving Y/N a quick squeeze before letting her go. “Anyway, we should get going. Don’t wanna keep the Daggers waiting. They’ll start texting me again if we’re late.”

Y/N smiled, grabbing her bag and giving Javy a quick wink. “Let’s do this. I’m ready to meet your friends—and give them something to gossip about.”

-

As Jake and Y/N walked into the Hard Deck, the familiar buzz of voices and the clatter of drinks greeted them. Almost instantly, the Daggers spotted them, and the teasing began before Jake could even find a seat.

“Well, look who finally showed up!” Rooster called out from his spot by the pool table, spinning a cue stick with a mischievous grin.

Phoenix’s eyes landed on Y/N, standing close to Jake, and a smirk crept onto her face. “What’s this? Your younger sister, Hangman?” she teased, clearly sizing up Y/N with curiosity.

Fanboy and Bob exchanged confused glances, while Coyote tried to stifle a chuckle, knowing exactly what was coming. Jake rolled his eyes, keeping his arm casually wrapped around Y/N’s waist as they approached the group.

Phoenix’s gaze lingered on Y/N. “Wait, hold on a second…” she started, squinting as if she recognized her from somewhere but couldn’t place it. “You’re Y/N Y/L/N, aren’t you? The author of Eclipsed?”

Y/N smiled, nodding politely. “That’s me.”

Phoenix’s eyes widened, excitement bubbling in her voice. “No way! I love that series! I can’t believe this! Hangman, how do you know her? Are you her bodyguard or something?”

Jake let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Not quite, Phoenix,” he said, his voice thick with amusement. He glanced at Y/N, then back at the group. “She’s not my sister or just some author I know. This is my wife.”

The room went silent, the group of Daggers collectively staring at Jake in shock.

“Wait, wife?!” Rooster exclaimed, looking between Jake and Y/N with wide eyes. “You’re married to her?”

Jake grinned, looking down at Y/N with a hint of pride. “That’s right. We’ve been married for a while now.”

Fanboy’s jaw practically hit the floor. “You’ve been married this whole time and didn’t tell us?”

Bob pushed his glasses up his nose, looking bewildered. “I mean, we thought you were dealing with some mysterious ‘family business,’ but we never thought you were hiding a whole wife!”

Phoenix, still in shock, finally found her voice. “Hold on. You’re telling me that you’ve been married to Y/N Y/L/N, the author of Eclipsed—the same series I’ve read a thousand times—and you never mentioned it? How did you keep that under wraps?”

Before Jake could reply, Javy stepped forward with a wide grin, clapping Jake on the back. “Oh, trust me, I’ve known for a while,” Javy said, clearly enjoying the moment. “Y/N’s my bestie. We’ve been tight for years.”

Y/N laughed softly, shooting Javy a playful look. “Javy’s been great. He’s known about us since day one and has kept Jake in check.”

Jake groaned in mock frustration. “Alright, alright, you two are ganging up on me now,” he said, shaking his head.

Javy laughed, shrugging his shoulders. “Hey, someone’s gotta keep you in line, man.”

Phoenix, still staring in disbelief, slowly shook her head. “This is insane. I can’t believe you managed to keep this a secret. And Y/N, I mean—Eclipsed is one of my favorite series! I’m going to need the full story on how you two met.”

Rooster, still leaning on his pool cue, shook his head with a grin. “I gotta hand it to you, Hangman. You talk a big game, but I didn’t think you had this level of stealth in you.”

Jake smirked, pulling Y/N a little closer. “What can I say? Some things are worth keeping private.”

The group erupted into more laughter and teasing, with Phoenix diving headfirst into questions about Y/N’s books and the rest of the squad buzzing with curiosity about how Jake had kept this secret for so long.

As the lively chatter filled the Hard Deck, Jake leaned in close to Y/N, a playful grin tugging at his lips. His arm stayed comfortably around her waist, and he lowered his voice so only she could hear.

“I can’t wait to see their faces when they meet Ellie,” he whispered, his tone filled with excitement. “They’re barely handling the fact that we’re married. Wait ‘til they find out we’ve got a daughter.”

Y/N chuckled softly, her hand resting on Jake’s chest. “They’ll never see it coming. We might break them,” she teased.

Jake smirked, shaking his head. “They’ll lose it.”

But just as they exchanged those words, Rooster, who had been standing closer than either of them realized, froze. His eyes widened as he processed what he’d just heard.

“Wait—daughter?” Rooster blurted out, his voice cutting through the noise around them.

The rest of the Daggers turned toward Jake and Y/N, their shocked expressions slowly forming.

Phoenix’s eyebrows shot up. “Hold up. You’ve got a daughter?” she asked, blinking in disbelief.

Fanboy let out a low whistle. “Hangman with a kid? Now I’ve heard it all.”

Jake sighed, realizing they’d been overheard, and gave a half-shrug. “Yeah. We have a daughter—Ellie-Mae. She’s almost four months old now.”

The reactions were immediate. The group exploded with shock, questions, and disbelief, their voices overlapping.

“You’re telling me you’ve been married and had a baby this whole time?” Rooster asked, shaking his head like he was trying to piece it all together.

Bob stared wide-eyed. “You’ve been living this secret life? With a kid?”

Phoenix crossed her arms, still processing it. “This is insane. First, you’re married to Y/N Y/L/N, who writes Eclipsed, and now you’re a dad? I can’t keep up.”

Jake chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah. I wanted to keep things private. Ellie’s been our little secret.”

Coyote, who had been standing back watching it all unfold, finally spoke up, clapping Jake on the shoulder with a laugh. “Jake here couldn’t hide something like that from me. Best friends don’t keep secrets.”

Phoenix’s jaw dropped. “Javy, you knew all this and didn’t say anything?”

Javy shrugged, grinning. “Hey, it’s not my secret to spill. Plus, I’ve met Ellie—she’s the cutest little thing you’ll ever see.”

The rest of the squad stared at Jake and Javy, dumbfounded. Rooster finally shook his head in disbelief. “I don’t know whether to be mad or impressed.”

Fanboy pointed between them. “So you’ve been plotting this whole time, just waiting for us to figure it out?”

Jake smirked. “Something like that. I had to keep a few cards close to my chest.”

Phoenix sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “Well, now I need to meet this kid. And hear the full story about how you managed to hide a wife and a baby from us.”

Jake shrugged again, a satisfied grin on his face. “Hey, what can I say? I like to keep things interesting.”

As the Daggers laughed and continued throwing questions at him, Jake glanced at Y/N, relieved that the secret was out. Meanwhile, Javy was practically glowing with pride, having kept his best friend’s secret under wraps the whole time.

So I feel like this is the end of the main series in order but I will continue in one-shots so If you'd like to be tagged let me know!

[sallytations]

Holding Vigil

poem by Alison Luterman.

My cousin asks if I can describe this moment, the heaviness of it, like sitting outside the operating room while someone you love is in surgery and you’re on those awful plastic chairs eating flaming Doritos from the vending machine which is the only thing that seems appealing to you, dinner-wise, waiting for the moment when the doctor will come out in her scrubs and face-mask, which she’ll pull down to tell you whether your beloved will live or not. That’s how it feels as the hours tick by, and everyone I care about is texting me with the same cold lump of dread in their throat asking if I’m okay, telling me how scared they are. I suppose in that way this is a moment of unity, the fact that we are all waiting in the same hospital corridor, for the same patient, who is on life support, and we’re asking each other, Will he wake up? Will she be herself? And we’re taking turns holding vigil, as families do, and bringing each other coffee from the cafeteria, and some of us think she’s gonna make it while others are already planning what they’ll wear to the funeral, which is also what happens at times like these, and I tell my cousin I don’t think I can describe this moment, heavier than plutonium, but on the other hand, in the grand scheme of things, I mean the whole sweep of human history, a soap bubble, because empires are always rising and falling, and whole civilizations die, they do, they get wiped out, this happens all the time, it’s just a shock when it happens to your civilization, your country, when it’s someone from your family on the respirator, and I don’t ask her how she’s sleeping, or what she thinks about when she wakes at three in the morning, cause she’s got two daughters, and that’s the thing, it’s not just us older people, forget about us, we had our day and we burned right through it, gasoline, fast food, cheap clothing, but right now I’m talking about the babies, and not just the human ones, but also the turtles and owls and white tigers, the Redwoods, the ozone layer, the icebergs for the love of God—every single blessed being on the face of this earth is holding its breath in this moment, and if you’re asking, can I describe that, Cousin, then I’ve gotta say no, no one could describe it we all just have to live through it, holding each other’s hands.

[appalachianapologies]

@refinedbuffoonery (and @macgyvercairo too) Behold! The original 1k-ish words that I was going to use for Cairo Day 1 before I decided they were ehhhhhhhhh words

A hand on Sam’s shoulder pulls her out of her reverie. She’d been staring at her own reflection for so long in the mirror that it had long stopped looking like her.

“Sam?”

mThen again, it’s been a long time since Sam has ever seen herself in her own reflection.

“Hey.”

Behind her face, Sam can see Desi’s, lips pulled into a concerned frown. Shutting off the water and resting her wrists on the porcelain sink, Sam turns. Her eyes drift down to the cuffs of Desi’s leather jacket. “Did you get your hand checked out?”

“I was trying to find you,” Desi replies, just barely managing to avoid a blatant answer. “I turned around and suddenly you weren’t in the waiting room anymore.”

Glancing back down at her bloody hands, Sam replies, “I think I was scaring everyone else waiting.”

“They could’ve dealt with a little scare.” A few beats of silence pass before Desi continues, “It’s nothing compared to what they would’ve… They have no idea how their lives could’ve changed in an instant. Probably can’t even imagine it.”

“I think it’s better that way.”

“Me too, don’t get me wrong. It’s just weird, I guess.” Before either of them can muse on that fact any longer, Desi takes a few steps closer, nearly wedging herself between Sam’s sink and the one adjacent to them. “You should probably finish cleaning up.”

“If you remember correctly, you were the one who interrupted me,” Sam points out with no heat behind the words.

Rolling her eyes, Desi reaches for the sink handles, nudging away Sam when she tries to use her elbows. “Here. Tell me if it’s too hot.”

Sam looks up at her, holding eye contact for a long few seconds. She’s been back on the team for months now, but there’s still something so unfamiliar about their actions. “Thanks.” Reaching out to help, sometimes literally, in a way that Sam hadn’t felt in decades.

After a fair amount of blood swirls into the drain, Sam gets a few pumps of soap, lathering it between her hands. Pinkish brown bubbles form, crawling between her fingers and up toward her wrists. Sam rinses her hands and repeats the process two more times until the only blood left is caught underneath her nails and around her cuticles.

Nothing but time is going to get those completely cleaned.

Without asking, Desi shuts off the tap while Sam dries her hands. “I called Matty. Gave her the whole run-down. She said she was gonna pull ex-fil out and figure some other way for us to lay low until we’re good enough to fly back.”

“And by ‘we’ you mean Dalton, right?”

“Duh,” Desi murmurs, frowning at Sam when she grabs more paper towels on top of her own in the trash can. “’Sure hate trees, huh?”

Blinking, Sam shakes her head. She didn’t even realize what she was doing, too far on autopilot. “Shit, I didn’t-”

“I get it,” Desi interrupts. “Gotta hide it, right?”

“It’s not like it would even make a difference to anyone determined.”

“Still. Peace of mind.”

Sam snorts. She doesn’t think she’s had any feeling even close to ‘peace of mind’ since she was in primary school. “Sure.”

As the two head out of the women’s bathroom, Sam asks, “Mac still getting seen?”

“He better be. Told the nurses to tell me as soon as he’s done. The last thing we need is MacGyver loose in a hospital trying to find the right operating theater.”

Sam figured as much. “It’s going to be bad, isn’t it?”

“Who? Which one?”

After a split second of deliberation, Sam answers, “Both. But at least Jack’s in the right hands. Mac? Not so much.”

“I’d say give me some credit, but-” Desi sucks in a breath, shaking her head. “Yeah. Ironically, the only person that could get him through Jack getting emergency surgery is Jack himself.”

“Think it’d help if Riley and Bozer were here?”

“How the hell would we get them out here? Even if they took the jet, they’d have to touch down to refuel at least once, probably twice. That’d practically negate the faster speeds- by the time they got here, Jack could probably be in some bed recovering.”

“Mandatory facetime, then?”

Desi gives a small smile. “Better than nothing. Do you think Matty’s already given the whole debrief to them?”

“Probably. She’s not one to keep information from her agents.” One of the few directors that Sam has ever worked under that actually does so. Her candor is one of the reasons why Sam trusted her enough to come back in the first place.

“See, look, we already have a plan.”

Raising her eyebrows, Sam replies, “Putting all of the weight on Riley and Bozer to make Mc feel better?”

“You honestly want to look me in the eye and tell me that we could do a better job?”

“I don’t suggest we leave him be with just a phone and Riley’s number.”

“I didn’t say that’s what we were going to do,” Desi points out. “We’ll talk to him, make sure he’s doing okay, and then call up the Phoenix. Stay the whole time by his side just in case.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“And hopefully the last one we’re going to have to make in this shitty mission.”

[yanderes-galore]

yandere ghostface (billy pls! if you want, you could also/or do stu) and scared darling. shes friends with with him, best friends even. suddenly murders and they couldnt be more scared, calling him up with broken sobs and apologies for bothering him so late but you’re just.. so scared. maybe you inv him over or whatever u wanna write 😁 (its friday the 13 >> even if its late, still gotta rq my fave!)

You got it! Sorry for the long wait :( Excited to write a Slasher again!

Anxiety

Yandere! Billy Loomis Short

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Yandere behavior, Obsession, Anxiety, Paranoia, Death, Graphic descriptions of murder/death, Blood mention, Possessive behavior, Forced kissing, Forced relationship, Manipulation, Sadism.

Billy Loomis, someone you called a best friend. One who was brave, flirtatious, and someone you felt could protect you. Even if you were just best friends... you felt close to him.

Your 'relationship' was tame for the longest time. Then the murders started happening. Ones that terrified you to your core.

You heard how they all started. A phone call at night, you're asked a question, getting it right or wrong kills you....

Upon hearing the news you decided to not go to school anymore. Instead you had someone pick up your school work and take it to your home until you felt it safe to go outside. Something Billy, your dearest friend, didn't seem to enjoy.

"I never see you at school anymore... you really that scared?"

You feel embarrassed to admit to him that you are that scared. In response he pouts and does his best to comfort you. Sure, he can be insensitive at times, but he does what he can to help you.

You were too scared to notice your friend acting weird. He was at your house frequently. Often being a bit too touchy to be comforting.

Yet he claims he does it in good heart.

You think your anxiety hits its peak when you hear about more morbid news.

Recently, your other friends had become victims to this killer going around. Entrails scattered along the ground, throats bubbling blood out from their wounds. Upon hearing the news, you couldn't take it.

Late at night you dash to your phone, dialing the number of Billy. The one person you felt you could trust.

A bit too quickly, Billy picks up. His 'Hello' sounds tired until he hears your choked sobs. By then he sounds more awake.

"(Y/N)? What's up?"

"Billy, I'm so damn scared..."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"The news... haven't you seen it? There were more murders. All of... my friends-"

You take a moment to gulp down a sob.

"Do you think the killer will come after me next?"

Billy goes silent for a moment before answering in a soft tone.

"No... I don't think they will. Did you want me to come over? I'll help make it all better."

"That'd be great, thank you."

You then hang up the phone and sit on your couch. Anxious thoughts eat away within you for what feels like hours until you hear a knock at the door.

"(Y/N), I'm here. Let me in, okay?"

You rush to the door and throw it open, lunging at your friend with a shiver. Billy recoiled but hugs back before nudging you back into your house.

"Poor thing... you're really scared, aren't you?"

You nod, eyes watering as tears drip down your cheeks. Billy rubs away your tears in a comforting manner to calm you down. Once you calm a little more you then sit on the couch beside him.

"Of course I am. I've been scared since the first murder. Now... my friends are all dead-"

You hiccup, Billy taking your hands in his.

"But you still have me...!"

You look at him with clouded vision, sniffing softly.

"I do now. Yet what if you die like them? Then I'll be alone... I can't trust anyone to make new friends."

"You don't need to make new friends."

Billy's voice turns stern, gaze hardening for just a moment. You look at him with concern. Was he also on edge?

"Billy, what-"

"In fact, I wasn't very fond of those previous friends you had."

You narrow your eyes, fear subsiding momentarily.

"Oh, cut it out! Now's not the time to-"

"I had to tell you at some point. You didn't seem to get it. I didn't like any of them. Don't even get me started on that one who'd bring you your work when you left school. I would've loved to do that for you."

You're in shock at Billy's rant. You try to pull your hands away, but Billy pulls them back.

"You're so cute when scared... it's not like you can run when you've already let me in, anyway."

You give a scared and confused expression before realization hits you. Shock then paints itself upon your face, it couldn't be...

He did it, didn't he?

"I had to ask Stu to help, but we both enjoyed it. We killed them and I had so much FUN scrambling their guts and slashing their throats."

A grin is on his face at your mortified expression. Like a deer in headlights... you were frozen. Completely speechless at his sins.

"But now? Now, I have you. All alone, clinging to me for comfort because... let's face it?"

Your pushed down on the couch, the murderer crawling over you and pining you down.

"I'm all you have now. You won't need any other person, because you have me. Your new psychotic, yet adoring, boyfriend."

A kiss is then forced upon your lips before he pulls away.

"Aren't I right, baby?"

[windtorn]

"well, not to be that guy to point it out but, i certainly had to be the one to spell things out for you," sampo's eyes flashed with amusement, filled with fond memories of aloof flirtations and more risqué advances meant to capture the captain's attention. sampo koski was a determined man and one way or another he usually got what he wanted too, though gepard was the one of those things that he craved but knew full well that he did not deserve. gepard would argue that fact should he voice those thoughts into existance, but there was more truth in them than the mercenary had the gall to divulge. "gotta say though. you were worth the chase, every moment of it, even. and the wait."

pulling away from marking gepard's skin, the mercenary's expression softened when captain all but slumped into his hold, brows upturned and eyes flickering with concern. far too elated to have the man back in his arms again, sampo often forgot himself as the true nature of gepard's work began creeping its way back into his mind. "ohh pfft, come on now geppie! i thought we were past this whole 'koski' thing, you and i!" the cheery lilt on his voice remained despite the look on his face as he moved both of his hands up to cradle the other man's face in his hands. "i'm sorry, lovely, really i am. maaybe koski will tease you relentlessly, but sampo? well, he'll treat and pamper you right! every bit that you deserve." it was playful but also sweetly symbolic of the way that captain once addressed him-almost solely-as koski before their union, and how he more frequently addressed him as sampo now. the mercenary would always be sampo koski in his entirety, after all, and captain had admitted to never wanting the mercenary any other way as well. to be teased until gepard was red in the face and to be adored absolutely without shame is what being loved by sampo koski was all about...and if one were to ask the businessman that personally, then he would also agree that it was the best of both worlds. he relented, though not specifically because gepard had asked but because he wanted to. he felt his chest aching to hear the other man's voice waver. sampo had just been teasing him and realistically, he had not expected gepard to verbally speak what he craved every time he wanted something. sampo was more than capable of understanding his intent in most cases, not to mention that the silvermane guards were responsible for just about anything you could think of in belobog in terms of public affairs. which meant being a captain on the front lines, he was no stranger to commanding his men of what needed to be done day-in and day-out among whatever simpler, arduous tasks he might be assigned otherwise. "you wanna tell me about it?" but here in sampo's arms, such expectations were not made of him. he could be weightless and mute and sampo would gladly take lead. "or maybe...i can distract you a bit longer, hm?" spoken gently as sampo pulled gepard into a kiss as deep and longing as the the day he almost lost his beloved captain. he bit against gepard's lower lip, tugging back frivolously in silent question for entry. a content hum bubbled from within him, further mapping his intent by striping his tongue apologetically against the bite.

he's not sure why he thought that sampo's incessant teasing would lessen some after they became monogamous, but gepard did. not totally go away, of course not, it was in part what drew gepard to sampo in the first place. but not when sampo would gain from the situation. surely, they both would net positive in a kiss, right? but sampo doesn't give him what he obviously wants, instead choosing to devour captain with those diamond eyes, sharp to cut, before kissing everywhere but his mouth.

"didn't think i'd have to spell it out for you," he replies, though his tone isn't as confident as he would have liked; sampo has him riled by doing very little and the smug man knows it. of course he does. gepard lets the affections go on for a moment or two, eyes half-lidded with want. eventually, he cracks. just a little.

"a kiss, koski. kiss me," a pause, "...it's been a long day."