#hes almost a decade old.......... fly high

[mauricemylittlemeowmeow]

"Hacchan this, Hacchan that. One would think that you're talking about a cute girl but it's just Halsin from BG3."

[chaoticwriting]

Lex Luthor is not an unknown name in the world, especially Metropolis. It's just that for the past half decade he has been very quiet. The cause? Maybe because he just found out that he has a son.

Enter Daniel James Luthor. A bright young man with a genius intellect rivaling his father. Daniel or Danny as he prefers to be called is very famous among the people of Metropolis. People would think as the son of Lex, he would be an arrogant young man. But he is in fact very friendly and kind. He is often seen helping some old lady's cross the street or hanging around with other kids . There are also pictures of him online, asking Cassandra Cain-Wayne, the adopted daughter of Bruce Wayne out on a date. The way he smiles nervously and blushes in embarrassment makes people laugh and sees him just as another citizen of Metropolis.

People also attributed the massive changes in Lexcorp as Danny's. Lexcorp has been climbing the worker friendly environment ranking and almost being ranked the same with Wayne Enterprise. Lex Luthor has also made less derogatory comments on aliens and metas. Of course he sometimes still insults Superman in an interview but the insults now sound more personal than before.

At the same time all of this is happening, a new hero has entered Metropolis. He calls himself Phantom. With multiple powers that might make people mistake him as a martian if not for his white skin and black and white clothing, he has helped Metropolis many times and is very popular among the people.

His first appearance was during the invasion of Darkseid and he played a major role in making Darkseid retreat back to his planet. His popularity continues to rise as he is much more friendly than other heroes in Metropolis. Unlike other heroes, he stays to chat with them whenever he helps people. It makes the people of Metropolis connect to him on a higher level than the likes of Superman.

Another thing that puzzles the people of Metropolis is the connection between Lexcorp and Phantom. Whenever Phantom fought, the property damages are never high. But if there are ever any property damages, they are often handled by Lexcorp.

The mystery doesn't last long as one day, Phantom is shot by a green energy beam by a group called Ghost hunter. When the beam hits him, Phantom screams the most gut wrenching scream anyone has ever heard. Phantom then collapses on the floor unconscious. The Ghost hunters just about to capture Phantom when thankfully Superman arrives having heard the scream from the Watchtower.

The Ghost hunters use some unknown device and teleport away before Superman can capture them. Superman turns towards the crowd as he sees them crowding the body of Phantom with some of them taking pictures. Superman freezes as he sees in the place of where Phantom has collapsed, a young very well known boy is in place.

Superman is just about to disperse the crowd when multiple cars and a helicopter flies into close proximity. He ready himself for any battle but all he gets is a glare from a very angry Lex Luthor who is screaming at his subordinates to carry Danny to his hospital as fast as possible.

As much as Superman hates Lex, he can't let personal vendetta get in his way of helping out a kid. Even if the kid is Lex's. Superman offers to fly him there instead since he is faster than even a helicopter and surprisingly, Lex immediately accepts the offers and even gives him a coordinate that he doesn't even know was supposed to be a hospital.

Superman ignores his suspicion and flies as fast as possible towards the area and lo and beholds, a small building is standing there inconspicuously. Just as Superman lands, multiple medical personnel rushes out of the door and one of them takes Danny away from him. Superman is about to follow them in since he can't see inside with the whole building covered in lead until he hears Lex's helicopter flying in. When the helicopter lands, Lex and Superman give each other a nod and Superman flies back up to the Watchtower.

Superman then reports back what happened since he kinda dipped the JL official monthly meeting to see what happened. The other heroes are kinda worried and also a little baffled because on one hand, Phantom's current state is unknown and everyone has met him and likes him one way or another. On the other hand, they just find out that Phantom is Lex's kid and has been running around helping Superman fight crimes and aliens alike.

Although Superman has vouched for Lex (which very concerns other heroes because like, this is Superman, vouching for Lex Luthor) the other heroes still decides that it is better to investigate what happens to Phantom. Especially this Ghost hunter group.

The next 6 months have been rather quiet in Superman's opinion. There is no news about the Ghost hunter (which is insane in Superman's opinion because like this is Batman investigating) and the only news that has been received about Phantom is from the Lexcorp PR group and Cass since she is the only outsider that is allowed to visit Danny.

On another news though, Lex has completely resigned from his CEO position and has been seen since he first entered the hospital that Danny is in. No one knows where, what or how he is doing. Currently the CEO of Lexcorp is his sister and the only news anyone has about him is that he is fine(He knows she is hiding something but it's more of worried lying rather than evil lying).

That is of course until a few days ago when millions of nanobots sprung out of nowhere from all across the planet. The nanobots just fly out into the sky in multiple little patches and just stay unmoved. The next 24 hours has probably been the most stressed any of the JL members has been for the past 6 months. Suddenly, just as if on a timer, all the nanobots move and swarm down towards the ground.

Mass panic happens all around the world except people realize that the nanobots don't do anything to them. They merely pass through them except a few people every once in a while. The JL members rush to stop the nanobots from whatever they are doing but no matter how they try, it is just impossible to find a way to destroy all of them or deactivate them in a short time.

Suddenly multiple screams sounded all around the world. All of them come from people that had the nanobots enter their body. The JL is powerless to stop whatever is happening and can only watch in horror as one by one people fall to the ground screaming in pain. The more proficient JL members check their condition and find out that all these people have one of their back bones broken into complete powder, making them into vegetables.

The 1 hour of horror ended exactly as the remaining nanobots declare loudly in a robotic voice

"GHOST HUNTERS EXTERMINATED"

And then, all of the nanobots just turn to dust like none of them ever existed. A few days later, the Lexcorp PR group came out to announce that Danny has successfully awoken thanks to Lex's dedicated research.

All the JL members have suspicion that Lex is behind the nanobots but they can't find any evidence that he is the one behind them. Later that month, Phantom is seen back in action and people later forget about the incident.

The underworld though never forgets and they all have reached a common consensus. Never pissed off Lex again.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

kiss and cry

summary | you’ve learnt to build your walls sky high in the wake of dick grayson’s abrupt departure from the world of skating. but one decade later, he’s back like nothing ever happened, and you’re back to square one. prompt | language of flowers event: a bouquet of purple hyacinths in blue wrapping paper with a pink ribbon ♡ pairing | dick grayson x gn!reader wc | 3.2k warnings/tags | pairs figure skating, childhood friends to strangers to ???, mutual pining, repressed feelings, angst, swearing, insecurity, no use of y/n, very liberal interpretation of how you’d qualify for the olympics ty @strangergraphics for the divider!

Brian Orser is a liar. 

“Oh c'mon kid, I had no idea. I thought this was a good kind of surprise! You might have a chance at the Olympics this time around!”

You should’ve known something was up when he asked you to stay after practice. The old man is annoyingly close to catching up with you, and if you weren’t wearing skate guards right now, you’d speed walk to the lockers faster. 

“Isn’t this good? You need a new partner, Dick finally decided to call me back, and anyways, I thought you l-”

You don’t need to hear the rest of his sentence to know what he’s about to say. “I didn’t. And I don’t anymore.” Neither of you seem convinced, but at least it gets him to shut up. 

What pains you the most is you can’t even be mad at the older man. You can’t cry, or scream, or throw a tantrum like you were 9 again, because at the end of the day, this is the coach you had begged to take you on. The one who has been behind so many legends and basically built your career up from the ground. Had this been any other situation, any other person, besides the Boy Wonder himself, you would probably be on the verge of much happier tears. But you know, just like last time, he won’t be here to stay. And you don’t know how much more heartbreak you can take.

Before you get the chance to talk him out of it, a pair of footsteps joins you. Speak of the fucking devil.

It’s like they had planned some flanked attack, with Brian herding you towards the front of the building and Dick stepping in to cut you off as you’re about to make your grand escape. No idea, your ass. Brian knew you wouldn’t be able to say no if they had you cornered like this.

“Dick!” he exclaims, pushing past you to wrap the black-haired man in bear hug. Normally, you think you’d be hurt by how his face is practically illuminating (he had never greeted you like that before). But you have your own worries to deal with: namely, a heart that is currently trying to claw its way out of your throat and lungs that have forgotten how to inhale air. You think Brian might still be speaking, but if he is, you’ve tossed that all to the side in lieu of studying the man in front of you.

You make it a point not to meet his gaze, even as you feel him trying to meet yours. Perhaps it’s pride, perhaps it’s fear, but either way, you know as soon as you look at him, properly look at him, any objectivity will fly out the door.

So you settle for the obvious things. He’s taller, and his face is sharper, no longer rounded by baby fat. Even the spiky haircut you used to tease him for is grown out now. He looks good—but nothing like the boy you have enshrined in your memories. This isn’t the boy who would stay behind to help you practice your jumps. This isn’t the boy who would pack an extra lunch for you in case you forgot yours. This isn’t the boy you cried yourself to sleep over for months, the boy who almost made you quit the one thing you loved most in the world because the thought of skating alone made you want to hurl.

This? Him? It’s just a bitter reminder that figure skating wasn’t the only thing he left behind all those years ago. 

You think you hear the two of them discuss the technical details. Practice schedules, song choices, choreography—it all goes in one ear and out the other. It’s a conversation you have with the older man at the start of every season. An annual promise that that year would be the year you finally earn the recognition you had worked so hard for. 

Technically, everything had been perfect. Technically, you were good. Enough to consistently land a spot at the Grand Prix Final.

But not good enough for a medal. It was never enough. No matter how much training you did, how many extra jumps you crammed into your programs, how many partners you had cycled through. There was no use in denying it: after Dick had left, you hadn’t been the same skater.

It’s pathetic. Your crush had not only abandoned you at 14, but any hopes of even making it to the podium had been crushed then as well. And you hate that 10 years later, you still haven’t moved on. Not enough to say no to his offer. Because like it or not, chemistry is everything in pairs, and there’s nobody like him. There is nobody like Dick Grayson.

It’s silent now. They’re waiting for you. 

You finally look up to meet his gaze. “Okay, I’ll do it.” 

—

It’s too easy to fall back into step with Dick. He always greets you with a smile, brings you snacks before practice (homemade ones at that), and carries your bag to your car for you, even though you insist that you’re more than capable of doing it yourself. He’s certainly trying, but the more effort he puts in, the more you can’t help but resent him. 

His kindness is all just a means to an end for him. He’s buttering you up so your movements are less goddamn stiff when you’re next to him, so you at least vaguely resemble an evenly matched pair. You know from Brian that he’s only coming back because of a stupid bet he made with his brother. He’s just here to prove he can make it to the Olympics. Your childhood dream, what you’ve decided would be the sign that you’ve made it—to him, it’s just another achievement he can use to inflate his ego. The worst part about it is he’s good enough that he could genuinely make it happen that effortlessly. And once he’s satisfied with that, he’ll waltz out of your life just as quickly as he came in. 

So when he offers you a hand as you step out of the rink, when he happens to have an extra energy drink, when he suggests a “team bonding” dinner, you don’t accept. You’ll let yourself entertain him on the ice for the sake of the skate. But nothing more. 

At the very least, you can admit that your performance aspect has definitely improved since skating alongside Dick. You breeze through Eastern Regionals, then Skate Canada, then Skate America, and in no time at all, you’re at the Grand Prix Final: the one barrier you’ve always hit. 

The short goes even better than you imagined it would. Too good. You’ve seen the posts that the fans have made about the two of you, digging up old skating clips to support their theories about the two of you. There’s a poorly worded interview by Brian that does nothing but fuel the flames, and even some of the commentators have been talking about how good the two of you look together. All signs seem to be telling you that you have nothing to worry about; the two of you are perfect. They don’t understand that that’s exactly what you’re worried about. 

You don’t catch yourself until it’s too late. You’re slowly getting consumed by him—by his soft smiles and whispers of encouragement and stupid, stupid puns. You’re back where you started, feeling weightless as the two of you skate your free program, actually losing yourself to the music. There’s nothing to prove anymore; this isn’t a performance—this is just how it’s always meant to be. It should feel right. But it doesn’t, because you’re terrified that if you let yourself get comfortable in his embrace, you won’t be able to skate like this ever again.

You pop the triple Lutz. Then you go into an Euler and a double toe loop that’s under-rotated too. You don’t understand, your jumps have always been pristine, especially your doubles. You haven’t made a sloppy mistake like this in a while. The last time was when–

Shit, you’re too early into the step sequence, the turn too sharp at the corner. You meet his gaze repentantly, like that will absolve you of your guilt. You don’t know what emotion you’re expecting to find in eyes. Maybe anger? Frustration? That’s certainly how you feel at the moment. Whatever it is, it’s certainly not adoration. 

You want to ask him what the hell is going on, but there’s no time. Last move. Death spiral. You have to hold hands, and the contact makes your skin burn. You don’t have the heart to look at him again. You’re afraid of what you’re going to find.

Suddenly everything feels too tight: the rink, your chest, the skates around your feet. You have to get out of there. One revolution, two, three, four. You can hold on, it’s almost over. Another four. He pulls you back towards him. It’s your final pose. The two of you are chest to chest. 

You just have to hold this for a second, and then you’re free. You can do it. You can do it. And then he’s leaning in even closer, until his forehead is pressed against yours and your lips hovering over each other. 

You can’t do it anymore and all you can think about is how to get out of there. You don’t even bother to wait for your score; you’ll deal with Brian’s scolding later. But you know if you stay out there any longer, you won’t be able to scrape together what little sanity you still have left. 

You’re leaving. You have to leave.

And as you run back to the lockers, you realize somebody’s been calling out your name.

“Hey, wait! Is everything okay?” Of course, the one person you don’t want to see would follow you. “Why did you leave like that? Did I do something wrong?” His hand hovers over your arm for a moment before he pulls it away and you don’t know whether you should laugh or cry. He used to do it with practiced ease back when you were kids, when you would joke that he had cooties but let him do so all the same. Now, you’re not sure if you can stand his touch, and from the look on his face, it seems to break his heart.

”Nothing, let’s just forget about this.” You feel like you’re being strangled and it takes all of your energy not to burst into tears at the moment. 

”No,” he says softly. “No, I know you, I know you’re not okay. Please, let’s talk about this.” 

And suddenly, everything’s just too much. He’s acting too nice to you, like he actually cares. Like maybe the fervent glances and lingering touches on the ice mean more to him than just pandering to the judges. But you know he doesn’t, because then he wouldn’t have left.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “No, you don’t know a single thing about me. So don’t act like you care about me now.”

”I do though!” 

“Bullshit. We’re not anything to each other.” 

His face crumples immediately. He takes a step back. This is the closest he’s ever been to tears.

On a kinder day, you’d take it all back. You’d apologize and beg for his forgiveness and he would be disgustingly kind like he always is and you could both forget about this. But you’re tired of dancing around the issue and you think there’s a sick part of you that revels in his pained expression. 

You take a step forward. “You’re just a coworker. This? This act where we pretend like we can stand to be in the same room as each other? This isn’t real. So stop acting like it is. You didn’t care about me when you left. So why the change now? Do you know how fucking hard it was for me to move on? I couldn’t even skate afterwards. I thought my career was over. And I’ve had to fight every single day to prove that—that I’m still a capable skater, that I have a place in this sport.” 

Your voice trembles, and it takes all of your strength to swallow the lump in your throat. “I had to fight to be able to skate without you. To have the courage to stand on the ice alone. So I’m sorry that I’m not willing to welcome you back with open arms, because I know this is just some stupid game to you. You’ll get to the Olympics, because of course you will, and I’ll get to ride on the coattails of that. And that will be the greatest moment of my career, but to you, it’s just another thing on your checklist. Then you’ll go back to whatever you decided is more worthy than m–” You choke on your own words. “Than skating. And I’ll have to pick up the broken pieces again. But frankly speaking, I don’t know if I can do that a second time.”

It’s dead silent, save for your panting. You feel like you just ran a marathon. And Dick? You can’t read him, and that’s what scares you the most.

”Forget it.” The silence is driving you insane, and you just start running your mouth. “Fuck, forget it. I should just be grateful you’re even my partner this season. It’s the only way I’ll make it to the Olympics. I know you’re thinking it, you and Brian—”

“Don’t say that.”

“—that’s why you left, isn’t it? Didn’t want to be tied down to a pathetic fucking loser.”

“I never said th—”

”I can’t blame you. I’d leave me too—“

“I DIDN’T LEAVE YOU!” 

Now you’re both silent. You’ve never heard him raise before. You’ve never seen him this desperate either. He’s shaking as he stands in front of you. “You’re right, I didn’t care about skating. It was always just a hobby to me. But I stayed because of you. Because I was young and stupid and in love and the only way I knew how to show you that was to skate with you. And it killed me when I had to quit, but I just…I saw how much passion you had for skating. Like it was the air you needed to breathe, but I knew I couldn’t dedicate myself to the sport like you could.. And you deserved a partner who would love skating as much as you do.”

You think your brain short circuits after “in love,” and if he says anything else after that, you certainly aren’t processing it. “…You loved me?”

Dick laughs like you’ve just asked if water is a liquid. ”Of course I did. Everybody knew it too. Brian used to tease me about the way I would look at you. And I figured I would finally tell you after I quit, in case it would make things awkward, but then…”

“I blocked you.” You whisper in horror. 

“Yeah, so I figured you didn’t want anything to do with me after that. I didn’t realize quitting meant I would lose you too.” 

And suddenly you’re 14 again, watching the boy you’ve had a crush on for over half of your life tell you that he doesn’t want to skate anymore, and you feel so small and so stupid. “Oh god. So all of those years…”

He nods, “I lied about the Olympics thing. Or well, I really did have a bet with Jason, but when Brian told me that you needed a new partner…I came back hoping it would be a chance to make it up to you.”

You’re still having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that maybe Dick had genuinely been trying to make amends with you. “So you being nice wasn’t just for show or team-building or whatever?”

“Team-building? God, I don’t think there’s a world where I can love you in any other way.”

The first realization that he had loved you in the past had been enough to nearly give you a heart attack. But to hear love? In the present tense? You think back to how he’s been acting for the past few months. All of the weird incidents that you can’t just explain away by saying that he’s making fun of you or being civil to you as a teammate or just being nice because that’s how he is. 

Because there’s no other explanation for why he looks at you like you hung the stars in the sky, why he lifts you with a reverence that could rival the likes of Keats and Byron, why he lingers on the ice after every practice, like he’s chasing the last vestiges of your warmth. 

And you have so many words dancing on the tip of your tongue, ways in which you can lay down your heart for him as he has done for you. But both of you know that even this stolen moment is just that: stolen time.

”Shall we go back?” He offers you his hand evenly, but there’s a tremble in his voice that gives him away. Like he’s worried that even after all of this, there was a universe in which you still don’t reciprocate his feelings. 

Your heart is screaming at you to assure him, promise that yes of course, you would accept him. But the words evaporate from your mind before you have a chance to grasp onto them. So you hope that at the very least, your actions can convey a fraction of your feelings. Hand in hand, you make your way back to the rink. No matter what the result is, you think it’ll be alright if you have Dick’s shoulder to cry on after this is all over. 

—

“And with a free score of 129.44 and a final score of 205.57, that puts America’s own duo from Gotham at third place in the Grand Prix Final!” 

Third, the word echoes in your head, taking you a few moments to process. Third, and there were no other American teams on the podium. Sure, it isn’t exactly the most fairytale ending, but it’s better this way—more real. You turn to look at Dick, who you’re sure has the exact same look of astonishment that you do. You remember Brian doing the math before you guys had even made it to the venue. Based on this event and the rest of your results this season, it was clear that the two of you were the uncontested pair in the whole country. 

“You’re going to the Olympics!” Brian whoops, hugging the both of you and jumping for joy in a way you think only he can get away with. You’re grinning so hard your muscles are starting to twitch but honestly you could care less about that. All of the training, all of the sleepless nights had finally paid off, and you felt like you had really, truly made it. And the fact that you did it with Dick makes it all the sweeter to you. 

You got a medal, a boyfriend, and that day, the kiss and cry finally lived up to its name.

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[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

5 times the Bronco was a third wheel - bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader

Summary: 3.6k words. Rooster & his partner's love in snapshots throughout the course of their relationship. or, five times the Bronco was a third wheel <3

Warnings: sososo much fluff. some cursing, suggestive material, overuse of italics, & frequent usage of she/her pronouns for the reader

a/n: hi y'all! life has been v busy but i'm excited to share another fic with u guys! i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it <3

master list

1.

After multiple failed & disappointing first dates, y/n was prepared to write off dating and romance altogether. She could be happy and fulfilled with some pets, good friends, and a good vibrator.

Then Bradley Bradshaw came along.

y/n was convinced chivalry was dead. So when the aviator offered to pick her up for their first date, she was skeptical. She did an internet deep dive and all she found were high praise for his flying ability and Navy accolades. Bradley only had one social media account and he followed less than 50 pages–most of which were plane and vintage car accounts. He almost exclusively posted photos of his travels during deployments.

So, she accepted his offer. She told him her address and pushed the Dateline and Criminal Minds theme songs to the back of her mind.

Bradley showed up on time and he actually walked up to her door. There was no dry “I’m here” text or the muffled honking of a car horn.

Not only did he ring y/n’s doorbell and meet her at her front door, but he also brought her flowers. Bradley brought her flowers!

His mama raised him right.

Bradley sucked in a breath when y/n opened the door. She was beautiful, and he told her so. The words left his lips before his brain caught up. It sounded cliché, but he was pretty sure he fell in love at the sound of y/n’s kind giggle and the way she bashfully scrunched up her nose.

As the aviator led y/n toward his car, she admired the sight of the vintage Bronco. A shiny wax coat accentuated the bright blue paint. It seemed as though there wasn’t a speck of dirt on the car. Somehow, the decades-old vehicle looked like it had just rolled off the assembly line.

Bradley smirked when he turned back and found y/n shamelessly staring in awe at the Bronco. Keeping up with the old car’s maintenance was a labor of love; it made his heart flutter to see someone appreciate it the way he did.

y/n snapped out of her trance when she saw Bradley patiently waiting by the opened passenger door. Swoon.

With a blushed smile she approached the door, standing intoxicatingly close to the aviator. Even in her heels, he was still a full head taller than her. Being mindful of said heels, Bradley held out his hand for y/n to hold while she slid up into the slightly lifted car.

She buckled her seat belt as he shut the door and jogged around the front of the hood.

She smiled inwardly. This could be good.

2.

After six months of dating, y/n had officially earned the title ‘passenger princess’. y/n and Bradley spent a good majority of their time in either of their homes, but when they went out together Bradley drove.

If they went out to a bar, Bradley always made sure to limit himself to one beer or sober up before they left. y/n was especially fond of fruity little drinks with a high enough alcohol content to knock a grown man out cold, so she wasn’t exactly a good candidate to drive either of them home after a night out. The buzz tended to make her more touchy-feely, which Bradley didn’t mind at all.

If they went to the beach, they’d typically take y/n’s car. Bradley shuddered at the thought of sand in the Bronco and sunscreen on the seats. Yet, he still drove when they took her car. y/n would’ve protested if it were anyone else attempting to drive her car but with Bradley it was different. Everything was different.

She’d never felt the kind of love and safety she did with Bradley. And it was easy! Their relationship was playful and fun and happy. Which was part of why y/n found teasing him to be particularly amusing.

The couple was driving along the beach with no specific destination in mind. A soft breeze flowed through the open windows and a playlist y/n made for Bradley played over the stereo. y/n alternated between watching the pink and orange hues adorning the sky–nothing quite compared to west coast sunsets–and admiring the handsome man seated to her left.

Rooster’s eyes flickered away from the road for a moment to look at this girlfriend. He caught her already ogling him and broke out in a toothy grin, ghosting his fingers along the inside of her thigh where his hand already rested on her leg.

The mostly-innocent devil on y/n’s shoulder told her it was time to bug her boyfriend. She carefully toed her sandals off before kicking her feet up on the dash. A smirk graced her face as she trained her eyes on Bradley, awaiting his reaction. His eyes flashed toward her feet with alarm and his shoulders sagged in relief when he realized the dirty soles of her shoes weren’t marking up the dash. Bradley rolled his eyes and grumbled before he effortlessly pulled both of her legs off the dash and into his lap with one hand. y/n threw her head back and laughed. The corner of Bradley’s lip twitched upward at his favorite sound.

At the next red light, Rooster pressed a kiss to y/n’s ankle before continuing to massage her calves.

3.

y/n groaned in the lobby of the auto shop. The mechanic gave her a timeline of roughly two weeks for her car to be fixed. Her insurance wouldn’t cover a rental either, so she’d have to get rides from her coworkers. She was sure Bradley would gladly drive half an hour each way to drop her off and pick her up from work, but she didn’t want to burden him with that.

Rooster came with her because she suspected the mechanics wouldn’t take her seriously by herself. Men. She sulked while stomping out into the parking lot. She knew better than to touch the passenger door handle herself, so she waited for Bradley.

y/n huffed as she stared out the window. Bradley knew it was better to let y/n ride out her frustration, so he silently rubbed his thumb over y/n’s knuckles, brushing against her engagement ring. After her second huff, Bradley ventured into the lion’s den.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Rooster asked with a kiss to the back of her hand. She ran her free hand through her hair and pinched her brows together. Maybe she was overthinking and stressing out too much, but the feelings felt very real nonetheless.

“I guess I’ll just ask one of my coworkers for a ride to work for the next couple of weeks. I don’t think she lives too far from us…” y/n trailed off. It was Bradley’s turn to pull a confused face. Why would she do that when they had another perfectly fine car? When Bradley proposed to y/n he promised her his heart for the rest of their lives and that what was his was hers–though both of those things had been determined long before he bought y/n’s dream ring.

“Baby, you can just take the Bronco. I’ll drive us to the base in the morning and then you can take the car from there. Or I can have Mav pick me up on his way to the base and you can get more of your beauty rest,” Rooster finished with a cheeky grin. Though y/n had her personal favorite origin story for her fiancé’s call sign, the actual reason rang true. Rooster was up before dawn nearly every day, regardless of whether he’d set an alarm or not. y/n, on the other hand, rather appreciated sleeping in and ignoring the morning daylight for as long as possible.

Bradley once tried to wake y/n up before 6 a.m. to join him on a morning run. In her sleepy haze, she threatened to break up with him. She was joking mostly but the edge in her tone had Bradley leaving her to rest without any further argument.

“...are you sure Brad? You would let me drive the Bronco?” y/n asked hesitantly. The only other person she knew of that had driven the vintage car was Bradley’s late father, Goose. To Bradley, sharing the car was a no-brainer. Would he let anyone else have their hands on his precious wheel? Hell no. But y/n? He’d give her the moon if she asked for it.

“What’s mine is yours, honey. I don’t trust anyone more than you,” Bradley smiled as he spoke. The words flowed off his tongue so easily. y/n did her best not to tear up at the sentiment, but it was a fruitless effort. It was her turn to kiss his hand this time, muttering a soft I love you against his tanned skin.

Which is how y/n found herself parking the Bronco in the car lot closest to the dagger squad’s hanger. The aviators had just finished their afternoon workouts. It was the safest means to gradually decrease the natural adrenaline rush from flying, but also had added benefits, if you asked y/n–the bonus being her fiancé’s physique. She took a brief break from ogling her boyfriend to be mindful of the distance between her feet and the ground as she hopped out of the car.

Hangman looked up from the weights he’d been lifting and clocked the new addition to the parking lot. The bright blue vehicle was hard to miss among the red, white, and dark blue trucks filling the lot.

“Rooster, that looks like your car,” Jake observed. Thank you, Sherlock.

“That is my car,” Bradley replied after glancing toward the parking lot. Hangman was a lot of things, cunning even, but the blonde man’s density didn’t surprise Rooster. A small smile graced his face when he saw y/n’s feet land on the asphalt, the rest of her body concealed from view. Phoenix typically ignored Hangman’s antics. It was a waste of time and energy, and ensured she wouldn’t lose brain cells simply by exposure to the cocky aviator. However, this discussion piqued her interest.

“Then who the hell is driving? Has anyone other than you touched that wheel in the past 15 years?” Natasha blew a stray piece of hair out of her face and stood back with her hands on her hips. Eventually, she too noticed the approaching footsteps nearly hidden by the car and she smirked. Of course it was y/n.

“Not until today,” Bradley smiled. y/n turned the corner, coming into view, and Hangman tutted in understanding. Rooster paused his workout to take in his fiancée. She wore a breezy sundress that complimented her complexion and the wind blew gently at her, letting her hair flow back to reveal her sun-kissed cheeks. She was a sight for sore eyes.

“Well I’ll be damned, Bradshaw. You must really love her,” Jake clapped Rooster on the back, earning an eye roll.

“We’re engaged, Bagman. I obviously love her,” Bradley replied, his eyes still trained on y/n. Fanboy piped up. He quite enjoyed the verbal tennis match.

“Yeah, but that’s like next-level love,” Mickey argued. The rest of the squad nodded in agreement. Rooster shook his head with a smile and abandoned his weights, lightly jogging to meet y/n halfway. Bradley wrapped his arms around y/n, pulling her into a tight hug. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of jet fuel and sweat, but she wasn’t bothered; she was used to it by now. y/n dangled the key ring from her finger in front of Bradley’s face with a teasing smile. He grinned and slipped the keys into his back pocket with a peck to y/n’s lips.

4.

The wedding ceremony and reception were breathtakingly beautiful. Bradley and y/n decided to have a private ceremony with just their closest friends and family and a larger reception party. They danced the night away quite literally. The newlyweds probably stayed on the dance floor for almost two hours, only taking breaks to take some private wedding photos and for Rooster to play the piano. The wedding venue was the couple’s favorite of the ones they had toured, the on-site piano was an added bonus

When the night came to an end and it was time for the send-off, Bradley and y/n couldn’t wipe the wide grins off their faces even if they tried. Whooping and hollering from their loved ones sounded out as party-poppers and sparklers surrounded the pathway toward the awaiting Bronco.

y/n was the first to notice the tin cans on strings affixed to the back of the car. With a loud laugh, she turned back to the crowd to find the culprits. Her eyes zeroed in on Bob and her sibling with a chuckle. The aviator wore a blush and avoided eye contact with y/n though he was acutely aware her eyes were trained on him and the string he was shoving into his pocket. Her sibling, who was standing right alongside Bob, attempted to discreetly kick a spare tin can on the ground behind them out of view. Rooster gave the two of them an appreciative wink.

Bradley picked y/n up bridal style, earning a surprised yelp from his wife, before he gently sat her down in the Bronco’s passenger seat, careful not to snag her wedding gown on anything. He pressed a searing kiss to her lips and jogged around to the driver’s side.

As they pulled away the distinctive clanking of the tin cans bouncing on the pavement earned louder cheers from the wedding guests. Despite his strong urge to get both of them home and into bed as quickly as possible, Bradley was careful not to drive too fast so that the cans wouldn’t fly up and chip the Bronco’s paint.

In the driveway of the couple’s shared home, Bradley opened his wife’s door and helped her step down from the vehicle. Once she was on solid ground y/n pulled him down by his collar and pressed yet another kiss to his lips. Their kiss count for the day was nearing triple digits. y/n shuffled toward the back of the Bronco to admire Bob’s handiwork again, pulling her husband along with her. Bradley wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed wet kisses to her neck. y/n suppressed her quiet moans and tried to stay focused on the task at hand, but it was a near-futile effort.

“Honey, do you think we should-hmm, oh-take these off before we go to the airport? We have to leave-hmmph-early tomorrow morning,” y/n finished breathlessly. Rooster’s ministrations were distracting and relentless. He groaned against her neck and nipped at one of the sensitive areas he knew by heart.

“Baby, if I don’t get you inside right now we’ll both be charged with indecent exposure,” he spoke directly against her goose-bump-covered skin and ground his hips against her back to emphasize his point. y/n tossed her head back against Bradley’s chest with a grin and a devious glint in her eyes.

“Take me to bed, you big stud,” she whispered. Bradley heard her loud and clear. He tossed y/n over his shoulder and practically sprinted toward the door. Though most of the blood in his body had rushed elsewhere, he still was mindful enough to carry his wife across their home’s threshold bridal style.

5.

Bradley Brashaw is a smart man. Incredibly smart. He knew his plane inside and out, could take it apart and build it back up again from each individual part. The same was true for his Bronco and y/n’s car, for that matter. There weren’t many mechanical problems he couldn’t solve with his toolkit and some WD-40.

So what was stumping him? 

An infant car seat.

He understood clearly how it should be installed. He’d read the manual three times over to make sure he didn’t miss any details. He wanted, no, needed to make sure his baby would be absolutely safe. Bradley wanted the car seat to be able to safely withstand a moon launch. The problem was that the manual directions weren’t working. He groaned and rested his forehead against the cool leather backseat. It was almost, but not quite cold enough to distract him from the sweltering California summer heat.

Against her husband’s protest, y/n followed him out to the front yard and observed as he installed their soon-to-be-Earthside baby’s car seat. The relentless San Diego heat was getting to y/n too. At eight months pregnant, she was already uncomfortable. With the added humidity? She was bordering on miserable. The couple didn’t really think through the timing of the pregnancy and the fact that y/n would be in her third trimester during the hottest time of the year. Actually, they hadn’t really thought through getting pregnant much at all. It wasn’t that y/n and Bradley weren’t trying to get pregnant. They just… got carried away one too many times.

Nonetheless, they were excited to be parents.

Bradley didn’t have to say anything for y/n to know he was getting frustrated. She could read her husband like a book. She slowly walked over to him, being cautious of her bump and lightly rubbed Rooster’s tan sweat-covered back. The aviator sighed and relaxed into his wife’s touch for a moment before he swung around to face her.

“Go sit down!” Bradley pleaded exasperatedly. As much as the aviator acted like a tough guy around his coworkers, y/n knew he was a teddy bear at heart. A teddy bear that worried incessantly. His eyes were wide as he took in his wife’s form. A large hand subconsciously gravitated toward her growing bump. y/n rolled her eyes but leaned into her husband’s comforting touch nonetheless.

“I’m pregnant, Brad. Not incapacitated.” she said pointedly. Bradley groaned inwardly. The exchange was all too familiar and he rarely won. y/n rested an arm on the door frame and looked around the back seat at Bradley’s progress (or lack thereof). She thumbed through the installation manual herself and Bradley looked as well, his chin resting on her shoulder. He reached his arms around her front to gently support the weight of her bump and y/n swore the instant relief she felt was akin to very few worldly pleasures.

y/n didn’t find anything in the manual Bradley hadn’t already. She didn’t expect to, but it was worth a try. She leisurely grabbed the nearest seat belt buckle and examined it.

“Maybe the buckles are just too outdated? Not compatible with the car seat or something like that?” y/n offered with a shrug. Bradley sucked in a sharp breath behind her.

“Don’t… don’t shit on the car, baby,” he spoke softly, a pained strain in his voice. y/n rolled her eyes and turned around to swat Rooster’s pec with the instruction manual. She obviously had no intention of taking a dig at the Bronco; the car had more history than either of them. To get his mind off of the failed car seat installation, y/n coaxed Bradley inside for a lemonade break. The cold beverage had been her pregnancy craving all summer, so they always had an excessive amount on hand. With a resigned sigh, Bradley followed y/n inside their house looking like a kid who’d dropped his ice cream directly on the pavement.

Though y/n invited Bradley inside so that he could take a break, he insisted on having his wife sit down while he poured lemonade into two glasses. y/n’s attention was split in two directions. The car seat adapters she was browsing through on her phone were interesting enough, but her husband’s sculpted figure was much more captivating. Bradley rounded the kitchen island and settled in next to his wife on the bar stools, peering at her phone as he passed her a cold glass of lemonade. y/n leaned over to peck her husband’s cheek in thanks when she noticed where his eyes were trained. From the way y/n straightened her back and grinned, Bradley should’ve known she was up to no good. But, in his defense, he was feeling too defeated to notice.

“You know, you could always just trade the Bronco in for a minivan,” y/n suggested with an innocent facade. She casually toyed with a loose strand of her hair and watched the fifty-some emotions morphing over Bradley’s face. y/n had a much better poker face than her husband, but she couldn’t help but crack and burst out into laughter when Bradley delivered a final deadpan look. He tugged her stool to face him directly so that he could look her in the eyes. Sure, y/n might’ve been joking, but he was so serious in that moment.

“Honey, I will drive that car until the damn wheels fall off,” Bradley declared without a single shred of doubt. y/n failed to hide her giggles behind the glass of lemonade and soon enough Rooster broke into a grin too. When she finally got a chance to catch her breath, y/n intertwined her fingers with Bradley’s.

“As long as I get to ride shotgun,” she half-whispered with a twinkle in her eye. Bradley took y/n’s glass out of her hands before softly gripping the back of her neck and pulling her in for a deep kiss. When they pulled away they gladly welcomed air back into their lungs. Bradley rested his forehead against y/n’s and traced his thumb over her flushed cheek.

“Always, baby.”

a/n: i snuck another top gun ‘86 reference in here…👀 i absolutely love love reading ur comments & reblogs so please don't be shy <3

have a good day luvs!

[embarrassedanon]

Ski Bum

As an Aspen local, Chester loathed the hours he spent giving ski lessons to the progeny of America's rich and famous. These spoiled brats were airdropped in on private jets by the dozen from New York or LA and wrought havoc on the slopes each winter. But helping them perfect their form earned him a pretty penny and free season lift pass so it was worth it.

Chester saw rather quickly that no matter how much these rich kids claimed they wanted to improve they weren't used to taking constructive criticism. Chester learned that lesson in a humiliating fashion when Walter, the 20 year old son of an oil magnate, joined him for a private lesson.

Despite a decade and half of winters spent skiing, Walter never managed to conquer anything but the bunny slopes. He was more keen to spend his time reading by the fire in the lodge or ogling the snow boarders in the sauna.

To Chester it was no wonder why Walter's skiing prowess plateaued before he even finished elementary school, Walter was convinced he knew everything.

"Your stance is all wrong dude, there's no way this is how you learned to ski!" Chester said a bit amused.

"It most certainly is not, and you'll call me Walter or Sir, not dude, I'm not one of your townie friends."

Prick, Chester thought, plastering a smile on his face.

Walter, not remotely remorseful, began absentmindedly scrolling through his phone.

"Is there somewhere you'd rather be? Cause if you don't want to do this lesson there's no point in either of us freezing our asses off."

"You seriously ought to rethink your language if you wish to continue working at a resort with high-end clientele. And if you must know all of my friends from University are in St. Barth's. But of course daddy forced us to go to this dreadful mountain hideaway."

"Well if you're such a competent skier and you don't need the lesson you'll have no problem getting your phone back from me.”

With that, Chester lunged for Walter's phone and stuffed in his pocket. In a flash he was off down the slopes. Shakily Walter gave chase.

"Get back here this instant!" Walter yelled.

"You'll have to catch me,” Chester taunted in a singsong voice as he whipped around to face his pursuer before turning around and speeding off.

Propelled by rage rather than any athletic prowess, Walter sped after Chester in a haphazard manner. As he neared the instructor, far faster than Chester could have predicted, Chester began to bob and weave as to avoid Walter's grasp. This only made Walter's attacks more erratic.

In one fell swoop, Walter reached to grab his phone from Chester's back pocket. The speed with which he was hurling down the mountain put an undue amount of force behind his grasp. While Walter was able to secure his phone, he sent Chester flying out of his skis and his pants and long johns tumbling down.

With a thud Chester fell face down ass up in a heap of snow, his pale cheeks looking almost sun-kissed compared to the alabaster snow. Walter gasped and then let out a hearty laugh. Chester shot up and spat snow out of his mouth.

"It's not funny!" Chester pleaded, over his shoulder.

"Oh it certainly is, and this serves you right for taking what's mine!"

Chester struggled to right himself and his he slipped on the packed snow. Bent over with his bare ass facing Walter he tried to pull up his pants when he heard the clicking of sound effect of a phone camera.

"Did you just take a picture of my ass?"

"Language, Chester! And my friends just sent a beautiful picture of the moon over the ocean, figured I'd respond with my own picture of the moon over the mountain. Anywho, thanks for this lesson... it was so very revealing. Ta Ta!"

With that, no less shaky than before, Walter traveled down the mountain alone. Leaving Chester to get laughed by a group of snow boarders before he came to his senses and pulled up his pants.

...

Back at the lodge, Chester was certain that everyone was staring at him as he headed to the locker room. It was clear that word of his embarrassing mishap, and maybe even the picture, traveled fast down the mountain.

In the locker room, guys were in all different states of undress, but the way they all laughed and whispered to one another when Chester walked past made him feel the most naked.

As he sat at a bench in front of his locker and removed his boots, Walter rounded the corner in a white terrycloth robe. He was at a locker just two doors down from Chester. He gave Chester a wicked smile and opened up his locker.

Chester noticed his expensive skin tight ski suits hung up neatly in the locker. Walter made quick work of shucking his robe and donning a crisp white pair of briefs, chinos and a knit sweater. He didn't bother to lock his locker before he once again flashed Chester that devilish grin and exited the locker room.

Still seething from his earlier embarrassment, access to Walter's locker was something Chester couldn't pass up. Working quickly, Chester grabbed a multi-tool from his work bag and deftly weakened the rear seam on all of Walter's ski suits. With any luck Walter would be splitting his pants right down the ass the next time he hit the slopes.

...

The next morning as Chester was getting a few runs in with his coworkers he noticed Walter and a friend walking toward the ski lifts in matching skin tight jumpsuits.

"Isn't that the asshole that pantsed you yesterday?" Chester's buddy Rich asked while laughing.

"Yes, and with any luck he'll be flashing his asshole anytime now."

Chester filled in his buddies on the plan and they were more than happy to let Walter and his friend grab the next lift in hopes of witnessing Chester's plan in action.

As the arrogant douchebag leaned back to sit on the lift, Walter's suit burst open flashing his ass and his black thong. Of course his suit was too tight for his briefs and he wouldn’t be caught doing anything as uncouth as freeballing. His own pompous rules compounded his embarrassment.

Within an instant, his friend was laughing, the lift operator was laughing, and Chester and his friends were in hysterics.

Walter shrieked as the lift scooped him up parading his ripped suit over the mountain top like a Thanksgiving balloon.

"No don't look at me!" Walter plead which only drew more eyes to his unfortuante wardrobe malfunction.

"Hey Walter, you were right! The moon over the mountains is gorgeous." Chester yelled.

[slow-burn-sally]

Trans!Tintin head canon. He's only that small because he's afab. Haddock fully assumes that he's fifteen or sixteen, but in reality, he's thirty two. It takes Haddock a while to figure this out, because how Tintin avoids danger and detection in unknown situations is by passing himself off as a teen boy. That explains his higher voice, slight stature, and lack of facial hair, and gains him access to small places like air ducts, or small bathroom windows. It also gives him the ability to waltz into a university or secondary school setting without being questioned. People assume he's a teen and ignore him, which makes him invisible.

Haddock is then a mite bit surprised that this apparent fifteen year old can fly a plane, drive a car and a motorbike, rent an apartment, and shoot a gun with an incredible level of accuracy, not to mention his ability to hold his own in a fistfight. Tintin has been a journalist for a decade, and his bosses and coworkers at the paper got used to his slight stature and high voice, and just sort of went with it without asking any further questions. They're all cis men from the 1940s, and Tintin does an amazing job, so they can't be bothered to notice.

Haddock thinks he's adopted a fresh faced, plucky, teen side kick, when in reality, he's joined forces with a full grown man with almost two decades of professional work experience chasing bad guys. It dawns on Haddock slowly that he's sharing his life with someone who fits the description of a perfect romantic partner, but it takes forever for it to really sink in, until Tintin grabs him and kisses him of course.

Snowy is Tintin's second dog.

[zarrella-hisone-and-only]

heyyy, I hope you’ve had a nice day I was wondering if I could request ushijima, bokuto and sakusa with a fem tease sitting on their lap for a bumpy car ride and they get ‘excited’ down there 😏 it’s okay if you don’t feel comfortable with writing this! <33

Don't worry lovie I'll do my best to delivery!! Hopefully you enjoy it! Sorry if this took a decade, I ran into some writer blockages along the way heh! 😫

Bumpy Car Rides

Summary: How would the Haikyuu boys react to their dear lover sitting on their whilst on this bumpy ride?

Warnings: Characters are aged up, dirty talk, mentions of sex, teasing. Not Proof read!!! New writer!!

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It had been almost a decade since you and Ushijima had a fun day out. It was always him having to leave early in the mornings and coming home after you finished dinner. But this time you ahd somethign fun planned. It was autum and it had almost seemed like fate, a hay bale ride!

You smile hugging onto your muscular boyfriend's arm in pure joy. He sat down beside you far in the back of the cart. The guide moved and paid their attention to the younger children in the back, but you had other plans. Why bring your perfect boyfriend to this boring childish ride, maybe it was time to spicy it up a bit!

The hay bale ride was a hour and a half long. So you had loads of time to make this more fun for both you and your lover. You leaned closer to Ushijima's ear and whispered softly, practically breathing on him.

"Ushiii.. My seat is so rough, can I sit on your lap? Pleaaase.."

His eyes widened as he looks at you in utter confusion, were you really asking to sit on his lap?

"Wha-" You interrupted him by lifting your body up, just high enough to snuggle your bum comfortably on his thighs. His face was merely inches away from you, this cart was filled with children, adults, and old people.

You placed a small peck on the bridge of his nose, giving him a sweet and innocent smile.

"Y/n-" You cut him off again.

"Look babe, seems like it's about to get bumpy.." You wiggle in your seat atop of him, causing some friction underneath you. He raised his hand to cover his face, he lowly groans and sighs.

"Babe, I don't think this is the right time for-"

The cart bumps and you rub against him adjusting yourself again. It wasn't long till you felt something poking and prodding at your butt. A sly smirk plastered your face as you kept calm, continuing you effortless tortures. He places his hands on your waist tightening his grip.

If this wasn't bad enough for him, you managed to lean back and rub yourself against whilst letting out a small lewd noise for only him to hear.

Long story short, your little shenanigans put you in a bad position when you both arrived home.

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The bus was full and compacted. And well, there was only one free seat near the back. You grasped your boyfriends arm and pulled him through the crowds on people. Bokuto sat down and you wiggled yourself into his lap.

"Uh, b-baby owl!" He exclaimed a bit embarrassed at your small yet impactful movements.

You turned back to place a sweet kiss on his lips, licking his bottom lip before leaving the kiss. His face was flushed a bright red as he gripped the seat's edge in frustration.

Fortunately for you the bus ride has seemed to hit a few bumps along the way. This caused you body to fly and then hit back down on his little friend. Bokuto gritted his teeth holding back a groan every time you landed back down effortlessly perfectly square on his sweet spot.

You looked back at him and raised a brow. "What's wrong baby?" You tease asking so innocently. He had a mind to rip you to shreds when he got home, because his little friend decided to wake up and greet you.

"Baby owl, I'm not sure you want to play this game your trying..." He groans lowly in your ear. And well, I guess it turned you on a bit.

"What ever do you mean my love?"

"I'm not sure why your acting so innocent babe, you know damn well what your doing... And you'll regret it when we get home.."

You ignore his mindless and ballsy threats and notice that you have seemed to hit a mine bomb. "What a nice surprise.." You whispered feeling his member poking at you.

He huffed as the bus stopped and grabbed your hand taking you off the bus as fast as you could. And according to his promise, he sure did rip you apart the second the front door was closed.

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Sakusa wasn't one to go on public transports all the time, but this was the same cute trolley you would see everyday. After thousands of 'pleaase Omi' s and 'I'll literally die if I don't get to go on' , he finally gave in. You led him through the bundles of screaming children and messy toddlers to the back of the ride. There were two seats you you sat on the inside.

The trolley continued on its course and you were sure to watch the guide and make sure she wasn't looking at your boyfriend. You caught her catching another glance at him and you frown.

You lean over to Sakusa and whisper in his ear. "Omi, my seat is so dirty and close that nasty toddler in front of me.. Can I sit on your lap pretty please?" You whispered in the soft and sincere tone that he loved.

He shakes his head but you completely ignore it in jealousy. You slip yourself onto his comfortable lap and grab the hand that were near his side and wrap them around your waist. He stifles his breath and looks at you a shocked reaction. He was lucky that he had his mask on at all times because your boisterous action were sure to make his cheeks as red as tomatoes.

The trolley trudges onwards and hits a few bumps on the way. Between bumps you rub yourself gently across his groin, he lets out a breathy groan and bites his lip in frustration.

The guide glances at you wild actions whilst sitting on Sakusa's lap. She turns away now feeling silly that she was even thinking about making a move on him.

Meanwhile you kept doing your silly little antics causing your boyfriend unbearable pain. It wasn't long until you felt his anticipation peak. You leaned you back against his chiseled chest.

"Awh, are you excited for the next bump omi babe?" You whispered smiling in your words.

"Oh, you really want to play this dirty game again hm?" He quietly snaps back at you.

"Feisty huh?" You rub yourself against him again. He hisses and catches his breath, not able to say another word.

Long story short he had you in the shower bend over and screaming his name. He managed to wash away your dirty actions and reprimand you for acting like a jealous and territorial brat.

[livfastdieyoung69]

Guys im in my mjf era!

Mjf x reader

Mjf being his usual douchebag self but reader being his soft spot yk? And someone using reader against him to get under his skin any of his old feuds would work for this so i dont mind 👀 just LOVE a protective feral man with very little regard for himself when it comes to the people he loves 🤭

HIGH FLYING BIRD

Sting had been your idol for as long as you could remember. For decades, all you ever wanted was to be like Sting. Now here you are- on the same damn roster as him. You worked with him, by his side, every damn week. Your few years in AEW had already given you so much more experience and advice than you could’ve hoped for, especially from Steve. The only downfall of working side by side with Sting was having to work with Darby who hated, much like many others, your partner.

Speaking of Darby, he bursted into catering with a scowl on his half-painted face. Sighing into your styrofoam cup of a crisp Dr.Pepper as he plopped down into the seat between you and the beloved man himself, Sting, you turned to face him.

”Yes, Darbs?” Of course, even with his bitching over your choice of a lover, he was still a friend. Sometimes. Darby scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms and practically pouting in his seat.

”How in the hell are you with Maxwell? What do you see in him? Or is it, like, what you don’t see? Are you legally blind, Birdy?” It was your turn to scoff- at his remarks and the nickname. It’d caught on after you showed up to AEW and started doing crazy high-flying shit no one even knew was possible on day one.

“We’re not having this conversation again, Darby.”

“Yes we are. Is this a Stockholm syndrome thing? Blink twice if you need help.” Before you’re able to do anything besides point a finger in his face, you’re interrupted.

“Alright guys, let's just calm down here, please.” Steve- Sting- tries to calm the situation. Darby gives you a smug look from getting away with his remarks while you glare at him wholeheartedly.

”Talkin’ about me again, huh?” MJF leans over you, his usual asshole smirk on as his hands slide up your shoulders and lightly grasp at your sore neck, barely massaging it. Sore from saving Darby in your last tag team match with a dive through a table, actually. (And no. He didn’t say thank you. Steve did though.)

”Hey, baby.” You look up at him, glowering face replaced with a gentle smile that makes Darby cringe and grumble under his breath.

“Got somethin’ to say, dead boy?” Max asks from behind you, hands still working your neck as the atmosphere tenses even further. Steve tries to calm everyone again, but it doesn’t seem to be working as Darby stands from his chair, coming basically toe to toe with Max.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. You’re the worst damn decision they’ve ever made in the almost decade I’ve known them. I don’t even want to know how you’re manipulating them into this, but I’m sick and tired of it.” Darby’s voice keeps growing, filling the silence of the now quiet catering room, everyone watching their argument. Steve stands up, placing a hand on Darbs shoulder to try and pry him back. You might’ve gotten up to stop Max, but honestly, you just didn’t feel like dealing with this anymore. “All you’re going to do is leave them behind when you get whatever you want from them, and we’ll have to pick the pieces back up.”

Once again, Steve's attempt doesn’t work, and Max steps back into Darbys space, now quite literally toe to toe, chest to chest.

“I swear to God, the next time you suggest I would ever even imagine hurting them in anyway whatsoever, I will rip your fucking head off and let Wardlow play with it.” With a sigh, you get up from your chair and try to put a little distance from the two by pushing at Max’s chest but he won’t budge, he won’t even look at you. “Only reason I haven’t done it already is ‘cause of how much they like your little daddy over there. See how that works? If I hurt you, it’d hurt my Bird and I’d rather die than dream that into existence so I try my hardest not to think about hurting you. Let's keep it that way, capisce?”

Before Darby is able to reply, Max finally gives into your pushing and turns to leave catering, you in tow.

“Max,” You softly call for him, trying to keep up. “Max, baby,” You stumble to grab his hand and he finally comes to a stop. “Do you really have to keep threatening my friends? It’s really no wonder they don’t like you.” You teased him with a small smile, grabbing his hands in yours.

“Uh, Kris likes me, thank you very much, toots.”

”That doesn’t count, Kris just gets everything. Everyone else is dumb.” You lean back and forth on the ball of your heels, his hands keeping you stable before he gets sick of it and pulls you forward into his chest. “It’d be really nice if you could just be good for a little bit, please. Just a couple days is all I’m asking for here.”

He rolls his eyes, and gives a huge, fake groan up to the ceiling. He knew it’d make you laugh, he always knew what would. You pull your hands from his grasp and bring them up to his face, bringing him to look back at you.

“Be a good boy for me, hm?” You whispered, thumbs rubbing gently across his face. Judging from the blush covering his cheeks, it seems like you’d finally found a way to tame him.

Mwah ha ha ha this isn’t really what you asked for but kinda sorta they were rivals at one point so ???

he def says capisce and he also would def call you toots idc it’s canon in my heart

Also have no clue where the whole bird thing came from but its here and the title is the Jefferson Airplane song

Anyways kinda really like this one its cute

[thevoidstaredback]

So, I assume cores are like a ghosts version of autistic special interests, and assumedly not everyone becomes a ghost?

But what if Jack does, his core could be ghosts itself, and is one of the strongest fresh ghosts to be out there, one worthy of rivalling king Danny.

Oo! I like this. I haven't gotten too far into any world building, but let's see if we can do this some justice. I haven't ever written Jack, so this might be absolutely horrible. Also, most of my knowledge is purely fanon or what I made up on the fly.

Idk if this is what you wanted, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. <2

Jack Fenton had always loved ghosts. His parents read him ghost stories and myths and legends when he was growing up, his sister was very into the dark and macabre, and his brother even took him ghost hunting a few times!

Yes, the Nightingale family had been witch hunters, but an interest change came with the name change. It was a package deal, really. One that know one really registered until much later down the line.

At the end of his senior year, Jack meet Madeline. If you asked her, it was love at first sight. If you asked him, it was love at first fight.

Maddie, as she liked to be called, had been raised by her grandmother. The woman taught Maddie everything she knows about the supernatural, claiming to be a medium. No one ever believed her.

Jack had a friend throughout high school named Vlad. Vlad was, in every sense of the word, paranoid. He had measures against everything supernatural, metaphysical, real, ect. If you could think of it, he probably had something to counter it.

The three made quite the team in college. Maddie and Jack had applied to the same colleges, only going to the one that accepted them both. Vlad followed after them, saying that he didn't trust Jack to leave him on his own.

"Ridiculous!" Jack had whispered to Maddie, "He just doesn't like being alone."

Ghosts were the common interest between the three, having grow up around some kind of exposure, so when someone offhandedly mentions a theoretical way that a living being could enter the Realm of the Dead, well, they had to see if it was actually possible.

Which leads them to nearly twenty-three years later. Their research had gotten Vlad hospitalized, so he wasn't there to share in the success, but that hadn't stopped Jack and Maddie. They'd worked for years to build a portal into the Afterlife for the opportunity to study a real life ghost.

Their research, of course, had been shunned in many occult circles, but that's okay. Those guys were all quacks and crazies anyway. Who needs their approval?

Ghosts were the emotions of a formerly living being that had imprinted themselves on ectoplasm. The proof? There was a ghost attack on their college during their junior year. Everyone thought they had staged it because no one saw the ghost, but Jack, Maddie, and Vlad knew. They had gathered the small bit of glowing green goo to study it.

That glowing green goo had been what had powered up the portal when they got it build. They used it like a battery.

So why hadn't it worked?

Well, it worked eventually, but why had it taken nearly four hours after the initial activation of the portal?

Regardless, they had been right and now Amity Park was full of proof to prove themselves to everyone that had ever laughed at them! If only Vlad could've shared in the glorious moment. He's not dead! They just...lost contact shortly after Danny was born.

Jumping forward almost two decades, Jack and Maddie were sat down by their children, Jasmine and Danny. Apparently, Danny had been the one to activate the portal by dying. It was...a lot to process, but they were happy he had come to them, even if it had taken two years.

It made them rethink a lot of their thoughts over the years. But, you can't really teach an old dog new tricks, no matter how much you explain and demonstrate it.

They didn't hurt Danny! God, no. They'd already done that enough.

No, Jack and Maddie redoubled their efforts to study ghosts with the added intention of understanding them.

Everyone in Amity Park know that there's at least a 90% chance they'll become a ghost when they die. That is quickly lowered to a 50% chance when the understanding that intent matters in all situations, even death. Those who want to rest won't come back as a ghost. Those who have something to finish or do have a bigger chance of coming back. Maybe not with all their memories, but they might.

Maddie, when she died of a combination of radiation - because ectoplasm is barely radioactive, but consistent exposure for most of her life doomed her - and old age, wanted to rest. She had done enough in her life, so she was ready to leave it behind.

Jack, when he died of the same combination with the addition of pneumonia, wanted to be with Maddie. But he also wanted to finally finish what he and Maddie and Vlad had started all those years ago.

Upon his death, Jack remembered a conversation he'd had shortly after Danny had come clean about being Phantom.

"Dann-o?" Jack had asked one morning.

"Hey, dad," Danny had tried to smile, but he seemed so tired. He was always tired. Had he always been this tired? Was this a new thing? Jack was horrified that he didn't know.

Jack had sat down next to his son on the couch, not too close as to be imposing, but close enough to be comforting. "What's wrong?"

Danny took a very long time to answer, words seeming to fall apart in his mouth. "Are you and mom going to keep trying to capture ghosts?"

Jack blinked. Why wouldn't they? There was still so much to know! So many theories to prove or disprove! So much locked potential that no one was ever going to look into again simply because no one else thought it possible!

"I mean-" Danny scrunched his nose in thought, trying to piece the words together in a way that someone who couldn't read his thoughts or be in his head could understand. "You and mom have worked to study ghosts for basically your whole lives. But, now that you know I am one, are you going to stop? Like, are you going to stop hunting them - us - down? Are you guys going to keep trying to hurt us?"

Oh. Oh. He's- Danny, he's- he's worried that they'll hurt him? "Oh, Danny," he said, "It was never our intention to hurt you."

"But-!"

"But we can't just drop everything. We've been doing this our whole lives almost, like you said. What are we supposed to do if we stop it all?"

Danny didn't say anything. In fact, he looked devastated. Why..?

Oh. Oh.

"It's not like that!" Jack was quick to say, "We're-we're not going to hunt ghosts any longer. If anything, we'll probably just want to ask some questions? I don't really know. I'll have to talk to your mom about it some more, but- We don't want to hurt you, Danny. It was never our intention."

Danny had been very quiet and a bit distant for the rest of the week after that. Unless, he'd always been like that? But he opened back up a little while later.

Jack and Maddie had never really completed their research on ghosts, so it's no surprise that one of them would come back as the thing they spent their lives after. But now came the question of what Ghost!Jack's obsession is.

It's usually seen as insensitive to ask a ghost what their Obsession is. But, if you know what their Obsession is, most are beyond thrilled to share it with you, basically info dumping everything they know about the subject, sharing related items, and learning more with you. It's a fun experience for all involved, especially if two or more ghosts have the same or similar enough Obsessions.

Really, it shouldn't have been a surprise that Jack Fenton's Obsession was Ghosts, considering his life.

Once that was a widely known fact, though, some began to wonder what his core and powers would be. Aside from, of course, the basic power set that all ghosts get when they become a ghost.

Cores and powers go hand in hand with a ghost's Obsession. Sometimes they amplify one another, sometimes they compliment one another. Very rarely are they the same thing.

For example, King Phantom's core is ice, his Obsession is protection, and his powers relating to that of ice, mostly offensive and defensive focuses. Ember's core is fire, her Obsession music, and her powers are similar to those of the sirens of myths.

You get the idea.

Then again, the Fenton Family has never been normal, has it? Not even as far back as when they were the Nightingale Family.

King Phantom had figured out one day what his father's powers were, and, consequently, his strength. It was an accident, really! They hadn't seen each other in a while, and Jack's hugs were already monstrously strong before he'd become a ghost-

Who knew that ghosts could get shattered spines?

Jack Fenton, upon becoming the very thing he'd spend his life dedicated to, gained the ability to copy another ghost's power via manipulation of his core.

While most ghosts' cores were a single solid substance like ice or fire or shadows, Jack's core was ectoplasm. Able to change and adapt to his needs, not set in any one way.

Phantom was beyond glad his father, who became known as The Professor, was on his side.

Storyboard

[oh-shtars]

❄️ “The Gift of Giving” 🎁

(A horribly late RFTS! Holiday and New Years Special)

[1/3]

………….

The Kingdom of Rosas has always offered shelter to many with nowhere else to go. This has been ever since their very first ruler.

For nearly a century, generation after generation of benevolent sorcerers studied and used magic to rule, to protect, and to maintain peace and order. But most importantly of all?

To serve.

The latter rang true the loudest during King Kristopher II’s reign. A king well-known in Rosas’ history for being incredibly close to his kingdom. He would dress as any ordinary citizen and interact amongst them despite all expectations for royalty.

He would talk about the weather with them. Give generous gifts to them. Laugh with them. Listen to stories with them. And in return, the people loved him dearly. Kristopher wasn’t just their king, but a friend. His very reign inspired those next in line for the throne to more personally engage with Rosas.

But while time is a gift to be treasured, it’s also a fleeting one.

Despite the graveness of it all, Kristopher only had one last wish on his deathbed. For the people not to mourn him, but to carry on gifting and laughing with each other as if he was still there. Many tears were shed on the day he passed away peacefully in his sleep. But his memory was honoured through one very special day each year.

“Krisdando”

A day of good spirit and merrymaking in Rosas. Marked by many families and friends coming together to laugh and exchange gifts. What makes this a unique holiday is that it’s the only one not to take place in the castle’s Great Hall, but instead in Alegre Square. The old king had dedicated his final months into leaving a permanent gift there for the people, wanting both royalty and their subjects to continue celebrating it together for as long as forever. And so, this tradition stayed in honour of his dying wish.

Decades later, this year was no exception. People of different backgrounds had plans to go witness the special event in Alegre Square that night. Kitchens were busy. Food baskets were being packed. Last-minute shopping of gifts are taken care of. Everyone is looking forward to the holiday’s evening!

Well… Mostly everyone…

………….

“Please your Highness? I sort of promised my family I’d come to Alegre Plaza with them this year…”

The royal assistant of Rosas tried her best to peek beyond the stack of books she was holding while simultaneously, making sure none of them fell off. King Magnifico sat from across her in the seat of his study’s cluttered work table. His brow furrowed as he read through a paper in hand, mumbling to himself.

“Ugh, what do you mean I have to-“

“…Sir?”

He massaged his temples, clearly irritated. “What is it now, Asha?”

The king’s voice raised like a wave and drummed against her ears. Asha flinched. Magnifico’s temper had the potential to be a beast of its own. It was already common sense in the castle not to get on his bad side, especially today of all days when he already had plenty on his plate for the holiday. She shrunk behind the books she carried, not sure if she should risk it.

“Mi Rey, take it easy on the poor girl. She only has the innocent wish to celebrate Krisdando like everyone else.”

Queen Amaya lightly scolded from one of the many mirrors that adorn the royal study. The moment she finished laying on the last sparkly touches for her Krisdando hair-do, she quickly dismissed her own reflection in the same manner someone would swat a fly. (She honestly didn’t understand the appeal her husband found in having this many mirrors in one room. Personally, she couldn’t stand it.)

As her Majesty approached, Asha felt like she can breathe again. A convenient little air bubble in the depths that pushed her under. The solid island to Magnifico’s sea. It wasn’t much to Asha, but at least she can feel a little more at ease with the queen nearby.

Almost instantly, the king softened upon meeting his wife’s firm eyes. “Right. Ahem, Excuse me.”

Straightening up, Magnifico folded his needed letters semi-neatly into his royal robe before glancing up at the two in his presence. His assistant knew, however, that the half-apology wasn’t intended for her.

Why would it be?

Magnifico got up from his seat and went around the table, casting the bare minimum of a glance at Asha in acknowledgment.

“Forgive me. I still have yet to discuss and clear up matters with the castle kitchen staff for the holiday event tonight.”

Absentmindedly, Magnifico flicked a finger and his precious star-studded staff glided into his hand, wedding ring glinting from its glow. Besides the staff, a book from the tower she was holding flew over to the king’s other empty hand. She luckily managed to use her quick reflexes to maintain the tower’s balance when it wobbled.

Heavens above, he only needed one this whole time?

“As for your leave, Asha. I trust that my lovely wife,” He gave a quick peck on Amaya’s cheek, who smiled lovingly in return, “-will make the final decision for that matter.”

As Magnifico left and effortlessly opened his book on the holiday’s history, a glimmer of hope rose in Asha’s chest. While the queen wasn’t perfect, Amaya at least treated the girl like she was more than just her job. Maybe….Just maybe…. she would take pity on her?

“It would really mean plenty for my Ima and Saba if I could join them in celebrating.” Asha placed the books down onto the desk with a faint thud, relieving some tension from her tired shoulders.

“…Would….would that be okay?” She asked, unconsciously gripping onto her sleeves. While she’s gotten more comfortable now, she still watched her tone when testing the waters. Amaya is still royalty after all…

The queen’s green eyes studied the assistant’s face, holding the smooth tension of the air like a delicate wine glass. There was a sort of desperation in the girl’s demeanour.

Was she really still that willing to go outside? Amaya wrote down a mental note. Hmm… Looks like that area could need some more work.

“Oh dearest, you know I would be delighted to have you join us tonight,” She began. Asha held on to every word, as eager as a small puppy. It was almost adorable. Amaya had to resist a grin. “However, what I believe Magnifico was trying to say earlier is that….it all just feels so overwhelming.”

That little light in Asha’s eyes fizzled. “….Oh?”

Amaya feigned a look of sympathy at the king behind her, whose attention had already shifted from his book to do something else more important. Apparently, that “something else” involved smoothing down and fixing his cloak in a mirror.

Asha followed her gaze with an incredulous look. She quickly hid it when Amaya gestured to follow her, on which she obliged.

The queen opened the balcony doors of the study room wide, allowing rays of the late noon to enter and spread along the floor. The orange warmth settled along nicely along the interior’s cool blues and whites as a faint breeze tickled the girl’s face. Beyond the castle gates and courtyard was the marketplace. It appeared that the rush hour from the morning had long since calmed down, with only a few people left buying their much needed supplies.

Asha exhaled. Has it really been that long since she last went out? How busy had she been the past week?

Amaya’s voice paused her thoughts before she could question any further.

“As rulers of Rosas, it is our duty to make sure everything is as it should be in the palace before commencing the celebration in the square right on time.” She nodded her head to the right in the direction of Alegre Square. Despite the distance, the decorations for the Krisdando event can still be seen. It’s hard not to when the plaza looked like an intricate spiral of cool, lively colours in the wide stretch of a blank canvas that was their kingdom.

Everyone had plans to be there…

Amaya rested a hand on Asha’s shoulder. “You understand, don’t you? I’m sorry, but I’m sure the king would need you in here the most.”

(Tiny Flicker sidenote buuuut this was honestly what I initially thought the canon!movie was going to take their relationship into. Oh well-)

“No. No, not really.” Magnifico muttered offhandedly from inside, fixing his hair. Amaya’s frustration cracked through her mask and disappeared as quickly as it appeared. This man-

“But with all due respect Ma’am.” Asha practically begged. “It’s just that I made a promise. And I really wish to-“

“I know, I know. I understand it’s difficult.” Amaya interrupted once more. “But we all need to make sacrifices sometimes, don’t we? As queen, I know the feeling very personally. Especially when it comes to dedicating all my time and effort for my kingdom.”

Asha fiddled with her bracelet nervously. For Rosas…

Isn’t this one of the main reasons she’s working closely with the king and queen? To make a difference in people’s happiness so that they don’t have to undergo what she had years ago?

That was why she’s here. To lessen the load however she can. It’s just another sacrifice. It’s not like this was the first time anyway. Besides, while the main event was tonight, celebrations will still continue for about a week. Her and her family’s going to have to settle for that instead.

In finality, even with the guilt panging within, Asha nodded. Disappointment weighing down any actual words from escaping. I’m sorry, Ima. I’m sorry, Sabino. Looks like I’ll be missing the Krisdando bloom this year too…

The girl’s face was gently lifted up to look back into Amaya’s gentle, motherly gaze. The woman used a hand to push a stray curl behind her ear to comfort her but Asha only shivered uncomfortably, biting back a grimace.

Amaya led her back inside the study, only turning to close the balcony doors and shut out the outside. The warmth and colours faded away, going back to the stagnant air of the indoors. Asha gulped down the lump in her throat.

“How about this?” Amaya seemingly noticed, smiling brightly, “Once you clean this whole study up and bring Espino to sleep, then you can come along.”

As if on cue, Asha felt a sharp stare pierce right behind her. When she turned, a blue feline eye narrowed from on top of the stack of books she had just placed. The striped black and grey tail of the royal sphinx cat swished side-to-side, further disturbing the already tense waters of the room.

(Not a perfect reference for Espino but this is close enough since I don’t have his design just yet.)

“We would take him with us but, you know how much he hates the cold nights outside.”

Asha watched silently as Espino gracefully dropped down from his little podium. Smug as ever. Ready to be pampered.

Oh.

Oh stars, this is going to be a handful…..

Despite having one eye clawed and blind, what Espino lacks in vision, he makes up for his extraordinary skills in sneaking into spaces, both high and low, with minimal effort. Paired with his spoiled and stubborn attitude, once he’s settled somewhere where he’s unreachable, one might as well just forget it.

Though, maybe it’s not hopeless just yet. The cat isn’t fully unreasonable. One right deal and he’d be all down for it. The main problem here would be finding one….

At least the queen was kind enough to not completely forbid her from going tonight, right? Asha shouldn’t be too ungrateful. They’re all trying their very best.

While Asha considered her options, bickering whispers arose between the royal couple a short distance away.

“You seriously cannot be thinking of leaving that nuisance here in my study!-” The king differed.

“Please, overreacting doesn’t do well for your image, Mi Rey. Asha is harmless.”

“The girl is just above tolerable. You know I’m referring to the cat.”

Actually, having both in his study sounded worse than just having one of them. While things may not look very tidy, Magnifico had his own system of organising stuff. It’s frustrating when his things just aren’t left where he wanted them to. Asha already almost never gets it right. But Espino? That damn cat might as well just own the place.

“You’ve already banned him from our sleeping chambers, Magnifico. One night here won’t kill you.” Amaya rolled her eyes.

He scoffed. “Can you blame me? He’s lucky you won’t let me get him declawed.”

An angry hiss shot at the king from the obvious source.

“Brats.“ Magnifico swore. Luckily for the feline, one simple touch on the arm from Amaya was all he needed for him to regain his composure. With a dramatic swish of his cape, Magnifico left the room like a soured peacock. The queen sighed as she watched her spouse leave. He’s lucky he’s not banned from their chambers alongside Espino already.

Before Amaya went to join her husband outside, she turned to lock eyes with her beloved pet. The sphinx cat received the message and grinned. With a haughty huff, Espino stood up and “accidentally” used his hind leg to send the book tower down to the floor with a

Thud.

Thud!

THUD!!

“Wha-?! Oh nooo-“ Asha groaned, instantly kneeling down to smoothen the creases on the pages.

“Mroow…” Espino purred innocently as he peered over the edge. Amaya took one step towards her to “help” before Asha stopped her.

“No, no, no. It’s okay, Queen Amaya, I can take care of it. You and the king can finish and look over the rest of the preparations for Krisdando.”

Amaya rested a hand on the study’s door and tilted her head. “Will you be alright darling? Again, I apologise. If you want a tip from me, Espino gets calmer when it’s warm so try to keep the fireplace going.”

Asha politely looked up from the books and smiled reassuringly, pressing at least 2 of them to her chest. “I’ve got it under control.”

The queen warmly returned the smile, one that gave Asha just a tiny bit of comfort. “Your father would be so proud to see you in his footsteps. I truly hope we see you there too tonight.”

Unbeknownst to the girl, a shadow fell upon the queen’s face the moment she turned her back to leave the study. Dangling hope just above the poor thing by a string?

Aww, How amusing…

………….

Author’s Notes:

✨✨ Happy belated Holidays and New Year!! 🎉🥳🎉

YEAHH! First Post of 2025!!! :DD

If you haven’t noticed already, do not fret because this is only 1 out of 3 written parts for this special! ;)

(Ignore the fact I spent late nights trying to write this in time for Christmas and failing SOOO hard anyway. Which is why I decided to write this as both a New Year and Christmas gift to the RFTS!fandom :3)

I’m so glad I managed to get Part 1 done because while it’s fun to write this all out, it’s been a pain to find time doing it with me being out travelling. I really wanted to finish this as a gift for all the lovely people in this fandom to enjoy. And I hope you all do! 💖

While Part 1 is written for Asha’s dynamic with the king and queen, I’ve planned out Part 2 to introduce Flazino himself, so you can look forward to that!

I have you all to thank so much for being the highlight of my first half of 2024. This Wish AU fandom is one of the most wholesome I’ve ever been in. 😭😭

January is going to be quite eventful for me. Once I’m done with the remaining parts for this, I’ll be getting back to solidifying character reference sheets and the story. Plus, maybe some doodles. (Most if not all of them are now digital art from me~ Surprise!!)

And Guess what? It’s going to be the RFTS! one year anniversary on the 23rd!! 👀✨✨. And I’m completing another orbit around the Sun in this month too on the 14th :,). Sooo yippee?

I’m honestly so touched that people are still around to look forward for the future of this story. I fear daily that I’ve killed people with waiting. Thank you so much!!! You’ve all been quite the motivator when the writing process gets difficult. Enough words can’t express this enough. Love y’all! 😭💖💖

(Lastly, lol sorry not sorry for leaving you all with an evil cliffhanger)

See you at the next part! Best Wishes from yours truly, Flicker! <33

@thesafireartist @ficsinhistory @annymation @uva124 @tumblingdownthefoxden @cocoapowderpictures @chillwildwave @rascalentertainments @spectator-zee @snackara @your-ne1ghbor + More!

[trickphotography2]

'tis the damn season | Chapter 6

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 5.8K

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 5 | Master List | Ao3

---------------------------------------

Chapter 6

Drew’s hands gripped Julie’s waist as she straddled him on the couch, his hips lifting and grinding deliciously against her. 

“Just go out and have fun. Hot, sexy, sweaty fun with the fuckin’ fire captain.”

Lucy’s words echoed through her head as he drove Julie home from Mikey’s, continuing to feel the eyes of the town on her. And if they wanted a show, she would give them a damn show. For two years, she’s been the dedicated daughter - sweet Julie, who had to move back from the city to take care of her daddy. Poor, sweet Julie, who was orphaned so young.

Poor, sweet, naive Julie who thought that she could keep Jake Seresin.

But no. Tonight, Magnolia got to see exactly who Julie was when she wanted to be. They got to see her flirt with a man and take him home. And she… she got to feel desired and free and sexy enough to sleep with the fire captain. So when he walked her to the door and kissed her goodnight, an offer to go up to Oklahoma to his folks for Christmas of his lips, she pulled him inside.  

Smiling against his mouth, she felt his hands slide down her body to her thighs, then slowly make their way back up under her dress. His warm fingers curled into the top of her tights, dipping inside to stroke her skin. She could feel his hard cock, the fly of his jeans rubbing just - 

“Fuck,” he gasped, startled at the sudden pounding on the front door. “Who - ”

“Ignore it,” Julie ordered, trailing kisses down his throat. But when it continued, his hands slid from under her dress and back to her hips, lifting her off his lap. Gently depositing her onto the cushions, he stood and adjusted himself. “Drew - ”

“Wait there, honey.” Groaning, she let her head fall back against the couch and put a hand over her eyes. The first time she was even close to having sex since coming back, and it was interrupted by some inconsiderate asshole. It was like a giant cosmic joke. Hopefully, Drew could turn away whoever it was fast, and they could pick up - “Seresin? What happened?” 

The concern in his voice catapulted Julie off the couch and across the living room. Putting one hand on Drew’s back, she nudged him aside to see Jake on her front porch. Her heart plummeted at the sight of his tear-stained face, bloodshot green eyes shifting from Drew to her. He looked so… devastated. “Jake? What happened? Is everyone okay?” Her mind went to Ally and the baby. If Will was hurt. Were his parents okay?

“Sorry,” he said, voice hoarse. “This was a mistake.” Turning to go, he hung his head, raising a bloody hand to brush the snow from his hair, fingers curling and tugging hard.  

“Jake!” Pushing past Drew, Julie stepped onto the porch and grabbed Jake’s arm. The cold hit her, and she shivered, damp soaked into her tight-clad feet and goosebumps erupting on her bare arms. “Is everyone okay?”

“They’re fine, Cece.” 

“Are you okay?” He was silent for a long moment, eyes trained on the ground.

“Go back inside. It’s cold. I’m sorry I bothered you.” She glanced at Drew, who was frowning at Jake’s back. His gaze shifted to her, and he raised an eyebrow. Taking a deep breath, she let it out slowly, watching it mist before her. And, against her better judgment, she slid her hand down his arm to take his wrist. 

“Come inside, Jake.” 

“‘M fine.”

“I’m not asking.” It only took a light tug to have Jake turn, eyes still on the ground, as he walked the few steps back to the house. Drew stepped back to let them in, and the three stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Take off your jacket and boots, and I’ll be there in a second.” Wordlessly, Jake did as he was told and retreated to the living room. Julie watched him collapse onto the couch, head in his hands. 

“Cece?” Drew sighed, glancing at the other man and then back at her. The nickname sounded wrong when he said it. Only one person ever called her that. 

“It’s… it doesn’t matter,” she replied, rubbing her forehead. Shaking his head, Drew wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a hug, kissing her temple.

“I know you don’t like people talkin’ about the two of you, but this… stuff like this doesn’t help.” 

“So what, I’m supposed to just let him leave?” she asked, pushing away from him.

“Yes.” Julie could hear the kindness and attempt at the reasoning behind Drew’s tone, but it raised her hackles. “Honey, he - ”

“Please don’t,” she cut him off, lifting her chin and crossing her arms. “I understand where you’re coming from, but even before Jake and I were anything, we were friends. And I can’t in good conscience let him get back on the road when he’s like that.” 

“I’ll leave,” Jake said, pushing to his feet. “I don’t want - ”

“Sit your ass back down, Jacob Thomas,” Julie snapped. “You and I will talk in a minute.” Turning her gaze back to Drew, she let out a slow breath. “Drew, I - ”

“I get it, Jules. Just… Merry Christmas.” Without another word, he reached past her to grab his coat and slipped on his shoes. There was a blast of cold when he opened the door, and she tensed, waiting for the slam that never came. Instead, Drew quietly closed the door, and once she heard his truck start, she let her shoulders fall. Tears pricked her eyes, but she forced them away. 

Whatever was going on with Jake was temporary. Ally told her he was planning on leaving the day after Christmas, so she only had two more days to deal with him being in Magnolia before he disappeared from her life again. And then she could fix things with Drew. 

With a steeling breath, she turned toward Jake and scrunched her nose at the feeling of melted snow on her feet. Reaching under the back of her skirt, she shimmied the tights down her legs, rolling them into a ball and tossing the black material onto the coffee table before sitting beside him on the couch. Jake’s wet pant leg brushed her skin, making goosebumps rise on her leg as she shivered. Cold radiated off of him when he turned to look at him, tears in his eyes. “‘M sorry, Cece. I shouldn’ta come here. I-I hope I didn’t screw things up with you and the firefighter.” 

“I’ll deal with that later,” she sighed, grabbing the blanket off the back of the couch and draping it over his shoulders. When he lifted a hand to tug the blanket closer, she caught it, intending to examine his bloody knuckles, and hissed at how cold his skin was. “What happened?” she asked, lightly probing his skin. She could see bits of bark embedded and sighed. It had to be bad if he went out and punched a tree - many a night growing up, he’d gotten mad at one thing or another and turned up back at school with a bandage wrapped around a busted hand. 

Pressing his lips into a thin line, she caught the way his chin wobbled before he looked down at the floor again. “I’m such a fuckin’ idiot.” She stayed silent when Jake sniffled. “Shayla’s not pregnant.” 

“Oh,” Cece breathed, feeling her heart break for him. “I’m so sorry. She…?”

“Lied. 

“What?” He shifted, reaching into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve his phone. His lip curled at something on the screen before he tapped it, handing it to her. With elbows on his knees, he hung his head and buried his bloody hands in his hair. Cece read the text screenshots, a hand rising to cover her mouth at the wave of nausea that hit her. “Jake…I…”

“I’m such an idiot.” The couch dipped, and Jake saw Cece setting the phone on the coffee table before shifting closer. Their eyes met briefly before she swept her fingers through his hair, damp with melting snow, nails lightly teasing his scalp and neck in a way he hadn’t felt in so long. Leaning into her touch, his tired eyes drifted closed. 

“You’re not an idiot,” she said softly. 

“I took her at her word when I knew her word wasn’t shit.” At that, she was silent. 

“That’s not…something… people lie about. And if you were…sleeping together, it could have been true,” Cece said after a long moment. “You weren’t an idiot for wanting to do the right thing.” 

“I didn’t want to marry her,” he confessed. “But she told me she’d make it hard for me to see my baby if I didn’t.” His tone turned bitter when he scoffed, “And there was never a baby.” 

His voice broke on the last word, and Jake cleared his throat. Cece let out a soft hum, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek. His reddened eyes watched as she laid back, an unspoken invitation in her soft gaze. Turning slightly, he followed her, lying on his stomach with his head resting on her chest. The chill from his jeans made goosebumps rise on her legs when he settled between them, unintentionally pulling her dress higher. His fingers slipped under the sleeve of her dress as he inhaled the lingering remnants of her perfume, his body relaxing against her at the familiar scent.  

Cece’s words of comfort died on her tongue when Jake tucked his head under her chin, and she felt him shaking with suppressed tears. So she stayed quiet, carding her fingers through his hair.  His eyes fluttered closed when she held him, silent tears slipping down his face. 

“I wanted the baby,” Jake said so softly she almost missed it. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, kissing the crown of his head as her heart shattered for him. His arm slid under her, and he held her so tightly it was hard to breathe, but she didn’t say a word.

Time seemed to slow and narrow to that moment. Jake’s breath on her skin and his weight soothed her. The feeling of Cece’s fingers in his hair and her steady heartbeat calmed him. The click of the heating turning on was the only indication of time slipping past them. 

And then there was a buzzing sound, interrupting their peaceful bubble.

“Your mama’s calling,” Cece said softly, her voice rough with fatigue as she forced an eye open. 

“Ignore it,” Jake replied, tightening his hold on her and burying his face into her breasts. 

“She’ll be worried.” When he made no move to get the phone, she sighed and stretched for it, her fingertips making it spin. Jake huffed when she jostled him, holding tight to the cushion to pin her in place. “Jacob.” 

“I…I can’t…” Shaking her head, she ignored his muffled groan of protest when she stretched for it again, hand closing over the rectangle as the screen dimmed. Tapping it, she saw that he’d set the device to silent, the screen covered with notifications. Cece suppressed an angry sound at seeing how many times Shayla had called and texted him, begging him to call her back. Will and Ally had also tried to reach him, and so had his father. Apparently, his mama had called enough times to bypass the setting. 

The phone lit up again with another incoming call. 

“Jake?” Mama Serein’s voice was frantic when she answered. Cece knew that he heard it from how he nuzzled into her chest.

“No, it’s me - Julie.” There was a moment of silence before the older woman let out a heavy breath. 

“Is Jake there with you? Is he okay?” 

“He got here a little while ago. He’s…” she looked down at the man lying on her, tears drying on his cheeks and brows furrowed, “upset, to put it lightly.” His hands flexed around her, and she traced the shape of his ear, feeling him relax again. After a long beat, the older woman sighed. 

“Did he tell you what happened?” When she hummed, Mama sighed again. “Bill didn’t want to kick the… woman out in the snow since she doesn’t know how to drive in it. She’s leaving at first light. Will and Ally said that Jake’s welcome to stay with them tonight.”

“I’ll let him know,” Cece said, glancing down at him. “I don’t… if he wants to go there, I’ll drive him. I don’t think he’s safe on the road.” 

Mama Seresin’s voice was sad when she said, “We can come get him.” Jake’s head lifted, eyes meeting hers with a wordless plea. They stared at one another for a long moment before she shook her head. 

“No, it’s fine,” she said, cupping his cheek and brushing away a tear. He turned, his lips caressing the inside of her wrist. “I…he’s…fine to stay here. If he wants some distance.” There was silence on the other side of the line and a cautious ‘Julie.’ “It’s just one night,” she added quickly as Jake resettled on her chest. 

I can survive one night, she told herself. 

He was such an idiot. A fucking, stupid, trusting idiot. 

He should have pushed harder to go to the doctor’s appointments. Should have paid more attention to the fact that Shayla never felt sick. Shouldn’t have accepted her word that she was pregnant when her word meant shit. But he’d always wanted to be a dad, and who the fuck would lie about that? 

And now…tonight, Jake had come to the one place in town where he felt safe - other than his own home - and ruined Cece’s night. He shouldn’t have come here. Shouldn’t have dragged her into this.

“I know. I’ll…yes, ma’am. I understand.” Cece’s voice was soft, and he heard his mama’s worried tone. “I will.” The call ended, and she set the phone on the back of the couch, taking as deep a breath as possible with him on top of her. Her fingers lightly traced the length of his neck and slipped under the collar of his shirt. “Your mama wanted me to tell you that she loves you.” He grunted, eyes closing again. “Come on, Farm Boy. Let’s get you cleaned up.” 

The corner of his mouth twitched at the nickname he hadn’t heard in forever. Cece had hated it when he started calling her Cupcake in eighth grade and had started calling him that in retaliation. And, while he’d persisted in calling her Cece until she grew to tolerate and then embrace the nickname, his had fallen away to moments she was especially annoyed or quiet moments just for the two of them. “Don’t wanna move. ‘M comfortable.”

“Too bad.” Lightly pushing at his shoulders, she tried to wiggle out from under him. Jake had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from making a sound as she sat up, his head falling into her lap and his nose brushing her upper thigh as her dress rode up more. Pink tinged her cheeks when he finally moved enough for her to stand. After tugging her dress down, she walked down the hallway toward the back of the house, glancing over her shoulder at him and raising an eyebrow. 

Groaning, he stood and followed when she stopped outside of the bathroom. She pointed to the sink wordlessly before continuing down the hall to her bedroom. Blood and bits of bark swirled in the sink as he scrubbed away his stupidity, the hot water making his hands throb with pain. He’d just reached for a towel to dry them when Cece stopped him. 

“Here,” she said, pulling a rag from over her shoulder. After depositing clothes onto the toilet tank, she set a first aid kit on the counter and nudged him out of the way. Bracing her hands on the counter, she lifted herself up and put on a pair of latex gloves before holding out her hands. “Lemme see.” 

“I can - ”

“Let me see.” Biting back a sigh, he held them out. Cece let out a soft tutting sound, taking his right hand and gently probing his knuckles. With his nerves finally thawing, he could feel the throbbing of his broken skin and the pain of embedded splinters. He hissed through his teeth, left hand falling to her knee and squeezing lightly. Her eyes darted down to it, and he quickly moved it away. “Does it feel broken?” 

“No.” She nodded, guiding his hand to her knee before opening the first aid kit and rummaging through it. After retrieving a pair of tweezers and cleaning them with an antiseptic wipe, she took his hand again and lifted it to her eyeline. 

“I thought you would have learned your lesson about punching trees by now,” Cece said, using her thumb to manipulate his bloody hand before teasing out a splinter.

“I - ow - don’t do it that often.” These days, punching the weight bag was more his speed. 

“Good. Wouldn’t want any more reasons for you to go to the hospital again.” Her eyes darted up to meet his before refocusing on her work. Jake’s stomach swooped as he shifted, wondering if she’d heard about his trip to the emergency room for an x-ray the last time he was home. Pops hadn’t been thrilled, filling out his paperwork while Jake iced his hand after taking his anger and frustration at Cece ignoring him in the grocery store out on a tree on the far end of the property. 

The fractured knuckles had been a pain in the ass to deal with when he was on the ground and even worse in the air. His XO had debated grounding him, but thankfully, Jake got one of the flight surgeons to clear him to fly. After it healed, his buddy had taken him to a boxing gym and told him to work out on one of the bags. There, he finally learned how to throw a punch and not break a finger and worked out his frustration. After moving to Lemoore, he'd continued that but hadn’t found a gym in San Diego yet.

“You, uh… heard about that?” Jake asked, grimacing when she wiped an antiseptic pad over his hand. 

“Hard not to when everyone said I was the reason for it,” she shrugged. Her eyes darted up to meet his, seeing the unspoken confirmation in his expression. 

“I forgot how much everyone talks here.” A wry smile crossed her lips.

“You should have seen it when I first got home. Couldn’t go anywhere without people asking why I was back.” Jake could see right through her forced nonchalance and felt a surge of guilt. He’d had some questions from his buddies on base when she left, but Cece… fuck, she faced all of Magnolia’s busybodies. 

“Cece…I…” She shrugged.

“Maybe if we give it another decade, they’ll stop talking about us.” There was a sinking feeling in his stomach, and he forced away the image of Cece in the firefighter’s arms. The kids he’d imagined looking like her running to another man. 

“A lot can happen in a decade,” he said softly. When she lifted her head to meet his gaze, his eyes dropped to her lips before darting away. They were silent as she started to work on his other hand, her touch gentle as she cleaned him up. “I’m…uh… the firefighter - ”

“Drew.”

“Drew,” he nodded, “said people will talk about me being here. I… I can leave.” Cece didn’t meet his gaze when she nodded. 

“Did you hear what your mama said about your daddy letting… her… stay at the house tonight?” He nodded, and she paused long enough to look up at him. “Do you want me to take you to Will’s?” 

“Won’t people talk if I stay? I don’t want to make it harder for you here.” Cece was quiet momentarily before setting his hand down on the counter and stripping off her gloves. Tipping her chin up, he could see the conflict in her eyes.

“I don’t care. People are going to talk no matter what. And I… no matter what happened between us, I’m always gonna care about you. So I’m glad that you came here. And if you want to stay, I wouldn’t be upset about the company.” 

Jake studied her for a long moment before asking, “You sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Gently, she pushed against his shoulders until he took a step back, and she hopped off the sink. “Take a shower and warm up. I’ll bandage your hands after and drive you to Will’s if that’s where you want to go.” 

When she turned to leave, Jake caught her hand. “Thank you, Cupcake.”

The corner of her mouth lifted as she lightly squeezed his fingers. “You’re welcome, Farm Boy.” 

YOU WENT HOME WITH HOT AS FUCK DREW PINE?! I need details. All the details.

Julie stared at her phone, debating whether to answer Lucy’s text. An ‘it’s complicated’ could lead to a phone call, and leaving it unanswered would make her think that they were doing… well, precisely what she’d intended when she brought him home.

After liking the message - a happy medium - and glancing at the red notification bubble on TikTok showing that she had over 2,000 interactions with the video she’d posted about the clusterfuck of getting the Mayor’s order together, she plucked the tea bag from the steaming mug. She tossed it into the trash, adding a drizzle of honey to the tea. Turning around and pressing her back against the counter, she stared at her broken oven and tried not to feel a crush of sadness. 

She could almost hear her daddy’s voice encouraging her to write her letter to Santa. Hear his laugh when her childish attempts at cookie decorating resulted in her and Mama being covered in frosting. Mama loved baking and made her infamous rum cake and egg nog bread pudding on Christmas Eve. After she passed, Julie did her best to make the orange cranberry scones they’d always had Christmas morning, her parents savoring the biscuits with coffee while she quickly ate it, eyeing her stocking and the pile of presents Santa left. 

It was the one recipe she’d never mastered. When she’d decided not to make them last year, too tired from another day of helping Daddy with getting around the house, he’d pushed himself out of the recliner and shuffled to the front door. Only after she agreed to run to the store while he took a nap did he agree to sit back down. 

With the perspective of time, Julie appreciated what Daddy was trying to do. Still, at that moment, she’d been so angry. She was tired and hurting, and the last thing she wanted to do was spend more time baking her mother’s specialty in the kitchen, which she had always failed to perfect. But now… now she appreciated him trying to maintain some sense of normalcy for her. He wanted to ensure that the Ryan family traditions continued, even in the hard times. Julie had ducked into the bathroom when she’d woken on Christmas morning to see presents under the tree and her stocking full. She cried in the shower, wondering how Daddy had managed to do it when he had trouble getting out of bed by himself. 

And, as much as it hurt to think about doing it now, all the things she needed to make those damn scones were in her pantry. She’d planned on keeping up with the traditions tonight, but life had other plans. Between her broken oven, nearly sleeping with Drew, and her ex-fiancé showing up, Julie’s night certainly hadn’t gone according to plan. 

“Hey.” Julie turned to see Jake standing in the doorway, blonde hair damp and sticking up in all different directions. His expression shifted to one of concern when he saw her blink away tears. “You okay?” 

“Fine. How’s your hands?” 

“I can feel them now,” he shrugged, setting the first aid kit on the counter and holding them up for her inspection. The t-shirt she’d given him was stretched tight across his chest, and the baggy sweats she’d pulled from the back of her drawers stopped at his ankles. “Not sure if that’s good or not.”

“I’ll wrap them, and then you can ice them.” He nodded when she set her mug down and walked closer. She made quick work of it, spreading an antibiotic ointment over his knuckles before quickly looping the bandages over his hands. Jake clocked the familiar t-shirt she’d changed into - a threadbare one she’d bought on one of their Spring Break trips - and shoved away the urge to say something about it. 

After declining a cup of tea and grabbing a glass of water, they retreated to the couch. Cece claimed the corner, tugging the blanket over her lap. Jake watched, unsure if she’d welcome him into her arms again, then sat beside her and pulled the blanket over his lap. “You wanna talk about it?” she asked softly.

“No. You?” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she replied, picking up the remote and turning on the television. Jake recognized the walls she’d put back up and hated them. After flipping through the channels, she found one playing the original Miracle on 34th Street. She rolled her lips together while tossing the remote onto the coffee table. Her eyes strayed from the screen to her daddy’s recliner, picturing him there. This was her mama’s favorite Christmas movie, and he would try to hide his tears from her every time they watched it. 

This year, it was her turn. For all her planning, she’d never expected to spend Christmas Eve with anyone else. Her plan to distract herself throughout Christmas had always ended with spending the evening drunk and lying under the tree. Alone. Allowing herself to think about Mama and Daddy and all those years she’d taken their presence for granted, always assuming that they had more time. 

The distraction of the mayor’s party, a night at the bar, Drew’s touch, and Jake’s… being there had forced her into the present, but now, as she watched the movie, those thoughts of how much she missed her parents crept in. Hot tears trailed down her cheeks as she sipped her tea. This was one of the worst things about grief, she’d realized over the last year - how quickly it could sneak up on you. How you could go from feeling fine one moment to wanting to rage and cry about how unfair life - and death - was the next. 

Unable to stop herself, Cece sniffled, drawing Jake’s attention. “Hey - ” he said but stopped when she shoved the blanket off her lap and stood. Without another word, she retreated to the kitchen, pouring the rest of her tea down the drain, rinsing the mug, and setting it in the sink. Her shoulders tensed when she heard Jake’s footsteps follow her. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” 

Jake sighed heavily. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” She turned, startled to see him standing so close. Concern was etched on his face as he looked down at her. Forcing her chin up, she leaned back onto the sink counter and crossed her arms. 

“This. What you always do - pretend there’s nothing wrong until it’s too late, and then blow up or walk away.” When she opened her mouth to say something, he raised an eyebrow. Taking a step closer, he settled his hands on the counter, boxing her in. “Talk to me. Please.” 

“You’ve already had a rough night. Losing a fiancée and a baby isn’t - ” Pain flashed in his sad eyes, but he shook his head. 

“Don’t do that, Julie. Don’t… just talk to me.” His hands slid closer until his thumbs brushed her sides. He watched a tear slip down her cheek and fall to her shirt, chest rising and falling with the effort to contain her sobs. His right thumb rose to gently stroke the soft fabric he’d peeled from her body numerous times. “Please, baby.”

Cece gasped, bringing her hands up to cover her face, and shook her head. “I m-miss my parents,” she whispered. 

Hell was seeing her cry and knowing he couldn’t do anything to fix it. Jake felt his heart breaking as he pulled her into his arms, kissing her temple. “‘M sorry,” he murmured. “‘M so sorry, sweetheart.” He could feel her trembling and held her tighter, lips pressed to the crown of her head. When she dropped her hands and buried her face in his chest, Cece’s fingers dug into his back. “I’ve gotcha, honey.”

Jake knew he should have been here sooner. Shouldn’t have waited so long to return home and do this. As soon as he stepped foot back in the US, he should have asked for leave to come back to Magnolia. He shouldn’t have let his hurt feelings get in the way of being there for her when she lost the last of her family. 

He should have been there for the girl he’d been in love with since he understood what the word meant. 

If he’d done that, who knew what would have happened. Maybe Cece would have ignored him or told him to leave. Or maybe… maybe they would have ended up like this, where she finally let down her guard enough to allow him to take care of her. To be the man he’d promised to be all those years ago when Jake thought girls were gross, but Julie was the exception. When they were naive kids, best friends, pinky-promising to always be there for each other. 

And above all, Jake hated that it took them both being in pain to be able to touch her like this. To be able to hold her and be held by her. Because once upon a time, being with Cece had been as easy as breathing, and it had been so long since he’d felt that with anyone. 

When she started to pull away, Jake reluctantly loosened his hold. A shaking hand rose to wipe at the wet spot on his shirt, unwilling to look at him while mumbling an apology. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. With a finger under her chin, he tipped her face up and sighed at the sight of her bloodshot eyes. Reaching behind her for a paper towel, he held it up for her. Cece ducked her head again while blowing her nose, forehead resting on his chest. “Better?” he asked. 

“Not really,” she shrugged, crumpling the makeshift tissue and looking up at him through tear-spiked lashes. He raised a bandaged hand and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, kissing her forehead as his fingers trailed down to cup her cheek. When he pulled away, Cece swayed into him, her eyes slowly opening to meet his gaze. They stared at one another for a long moment. “Thank you, Farm Boy.” 

“You’re welcome, Cupcake. And thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” Jake watched her eyes dip to his lips, lowering his head almost automatically. He caught himself as his nose brushed hers, her soft inhale making him pause. Neither moved, waiting for the other to make the first move or pull away. 

Heart pounding, Cece rose onto her toes and kissed him. A soft, closed-mouth kiss that conveyed comfort rather than lust. When their eyes met again, hundreds of unspoken words and feelings passed between them. 

Jake tasted the cinnamon and honey from her tea and the salty remnants of her tears when he kissed her. His hands slid under the hem of her shirt, but he resisted the urge to remap her curves, content to feel the heat of her skin against his palms. Her body pressed to his when she stepped closer. 

Cece smiled against his slightly chapped lips, feeling the scratch of his stubble against her skin. His heart beat against her palm when her hands rose to his chest. No matter how much time passed, that was one thing that never changed. She knew she held a special piece of his heart and had staked her claim decades ago, just as he’d done with her own. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” Jake whispered against her lips. “Shoulda come home when you needed me.” 

“I’m glad you came here tonight,” she breathed. “I hate why, but I’m glad you’re not stuck with that - ” He cut her off with a kiss, not wanting to ruin this moment by thinking about his ex. 

Those three words were on the tip of his tongue when Cece’s hand trailed down to catch his own. After tossing her tissue in the trash, she led him to her childhood bedroom, pausing long enough to turn off the television and Christmas tree lights. “Baby,” he sighed as she pulled back the covers. “I don’t think…”

“No,” she agreed, sitting in the middle of the bed. “Just to sleep.” Their eyes met for a long moment before he reached for the back of his shirt and tugged it over his head, dropping it onto the floor. She scooted closer to the wall, giving him plenty of space as he sat beside her and pulled the covers up to his chest. 

Jake reached for her, his hand sliding over her hip as he shifted closer. In the darkness, time seemed to slow as they traded unhurried kisses. For a moment, Jake felt like he was thirteen again, stealing kisses and keeping an ear out for one of their parents to appear. Back when kissing was new, and every time, it felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Cece felt like she was eighteen again, finding pieces of the boy she’d sent to the Naval Academy in the man who had returned, but secure in the knowledge that he was her Farm Boy.

“Goodnight, Jake,” she said softly, eyes fluttering closed as his fingers slipped under her shirt and drew on her lower back.

“Night, Cece.” He kept tracing those eight letters, his unspoken promise, onto Cece’s skin until she fell asleep. 

And, as much as his heart was shattered for the future he’d lost, Jake couldn’t help but feel as though a corner of it was already rebuilding. 

-----------------------------------------

Author's Note: I'm very torn on how I feel about this chapter, but I can't look at it anymore. I had a hard time balancing them both experiencing their grief and wanting to comfort one another, and pushing their relationship forward. Them kissing and sleeping together was more about comforting one another rather than sex, if that makes sense?

Anyway, thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for letting me vent to her about it!

Read Chapter 7

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[thgfanfictionlibrary]

Teen and Up Rated Fics Masterlist (63)

Part 1- Part 58 / Part 59 / Part 60 / Part 61 / Part 62 /

Created: May 28th, 2024

Last Checked:—-

Every Breath You Take-VanillaCottonCandy (ao3) Summary: I wouldn’t go into this unarmed. I would go home and prepare myself with a loaded bow and a knife. I would head to the woods, perch myself up high in a tree, and when he showed up looking for me, I’d take him out before he even had a chance to notice me. That’s what I decided would happen. That’s what I convinced myself would happen. But unfortunately, that is not what happened at all. / A mysterious man comes to District Twelve. No one knows who he is or what he wants. Just that he wants Katniss Everdeen. Set two years Post-Mockingjay. Canon Compliant. Heavy on Everlark. Everything You Are-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: Everdeen. Katniss Everdeen, Licensed to Kill, has spent almost a decade trying to bring down the villainous Coriolanus Snow. But when she’s assigned a new field partner, she starts to question if it’s been worth everything she’s given. Eyes are for the Stars-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: They had only one night before he went on tour. Katniss and Peeta were going to make the most of it. Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop-JLaLa (ao3) Summary: Inspired by the Landon Pigg song of the same name. Katniss Everdeen meets soon-to-be college graduate Peeta Mellark during Finals week. Sparks fly over hot beverages. Five Ways to Eat Stale Bread-loungemermaid (ao3) Summary: "Very expensive. Too expensive for my family to eat, unless it's gone very stale. Of course, almost everything we eat is stale" or Five vignettes about Peeta's childhood to young adulthood, centered around recipes using the hard dry loaves no one else wanted. Garden Games-VanillaCottonCandy (ao3) Summary: Set after Mockingjay. Katniss and Peeta enjoy a day in the garden together. Written for The Hunger Games Season Of Hope 2021 prompt “Katniss and Peeta spend an afternoon, Post-MJ in the garden. Flirting and playful snakiness ensue. As does kissing.” Having Fun Yet?-lovelee (ao3) Summary: He had straight white teeth, dimples, and thick blond hair combed back over his forehead in a style that was almost retro. He was a CW-type for sure, the non-threatening-good-guy-wet-dream of fourteen-year-olds all across America. Not Katniss’ type at all. And maybe not quite The CW’s type, either, since he was here on a cater-waiter job at some ridiculous mansion in the Hills instead of a dressing room on the set of The Vampire Diaries. (Katniss, Peeta & a catering job. AU inspired by Party Down. Written for Day 6, Sloth, of Prompts in Panem.) Heel Pieces: Cut Scenes from Five Ways to Eat Stale Bread-loungemermaid (ao3) Summary: Non-linear bonus scenes or things that just didn’t originally make the cut in the first story, updated as I think of them. I just couldn’t leave them behind. All in Peeta’s pov unless stated otherwise Hold on-keeptheearthbelow (ao3) Summary: Schools have been shut down in a crisis, leaving it up to volunteers to get food to hungry children. Holiday Havoc Ensues-katnissdoesnotfollowback (ao3) Summary: Johanna and Finnick despise the holiday parties that their boss throws. This year, they've decided to throw a holiday party worthy of their coworkers. There will be music, dancing, games, creative insults, rebellion, food, and even a gift exchange. Hopefully there won't be any murder or arrests, but you never know what's going to happen when you pack this many victors into one house…

[prophetofhope]

I am thirteen years old, sitting in my grandmother's kitchen. The television is turned to some news channel, as it almost always is between runs of Soap Operas and The Big Bang Theory.

GAY MARRIAGE FEDERALLY LEGALIZED the headline reads, with a background shot of the front of the Supreme Court building. There are hoardes of people gathered out front, with rainbow flags waving high. The camera pans past two men locked in an amorous embrace, and joy is written across every line of their bodies.

I'm trying to keep my reactions neutral, but my grandmother shoots me a knowing look when she says 'Its about time, ya know. I mean come on- it's 2015!'

I am filled with hope. The world that I will go into is more fair and equal for people like me. Surely, it could only get better from here.

Time passes. Things change, fluctuate. I become more educated on things like queer history, I become more aware of what it took to win that victory. I become more aware that what we have could be taken from us at any time. I start to see the patterns. I start to hear the dog whistles. I start to understand that progress is not linear. I learn more and more. I start to notice parallels. I realize this may all be harder than I anticipated.

I see the writing on the wall years before anyone around me. I sound the alarms, but I am told to calm down. My entire highschool career is spent debating 'devils advocates' and avoiding reckless drivers in the parking lot with MAGA flags flying from back of the lifted pickups their parents bought them.

I am twenty-two years old, just a little less than a month shy of my 23rd birthday, standing alone at work. My phone is tuned to a Livestream of the 2025 inauguration and I am physically standing at least five feet away, outwardly cringing at every new word. I can listen or I can watch- I can't bring myself to do both.

I am waiting for him to say something about trans people- about me, about my wife, about my best friend and so many of the people I hold dear- praying that he won't but knowing that he will, that fear of us is part of what won him the seat and he isn't likely to let up now.

"It will be the policy of the United States that there are only two genders, male and female," he says.

I swear out loud and silently thank the universe that I'm the only one staffing the store right now. None of this is unexpected but all of it is still devastating. It still wounds that thirteen year old inside me who saw only progress on the horizon less than a decade ago.

I am still filled with hope, though now it is purposeful- it is resistance. It is a cultivated and hard-won 'fuck you' to keep hoping for a good world even as powerful men vow they won't let that happen. The world I have grown into is not fair or equal for most types of people, but we have no choice but to keep going from here.

I am thirteen, and the future is bright.

I am twenty-two, and I am ready to fight for it.

[iloveoutlinesiswear]

The Angels Tenebrae (my homebrew and the chapter my current WIP is about)

A brief history (some bits are left out)

During the Heresy, when the call to Terra rang out, a single company, the 62nd did not reach Terra before the warp storms came. Instead, they were delayed and finally found themselves amidst the ocean of blue that was the Ultramarines fleet. When the storm finally ceased, the 62nd came on with them but when they arrived, they did not know their brothers. Bitter, angry, in mourning, their brothers were afflicted with what would be called the Black Rage. In their distorted minds, their brothers branded the 62nd as failures and outcasts. The 62nd in their turn could not understand, Sanguinius's death did not touch them. They came too late to save their father and no one could stand the sight of them.

Raldoron, in his fury and trauma, banished them from the Imperium for ten thousand years.

The Angels Tenebrae have been patrolling the edges of the galaxy for all that time. Staring out into the void beyond the stars, the void has gotten into them, twisting and mutating them into something more like itself.

No longer able to stand sunlight, or any bright light, their Thirst twisted into something darker and more sensuous, the Tenebrae have abandoned the rage of their red brethren. Speaking in soft hoarse tones, their senses heightened to an almost painful degree, they stalk their old ship, the Lune Sinister, accompanied by a rag tag support fleet. That is, when they are not in stasis, letting the decades slip by unseen.

Yet, while the Imperium might have forgotten them and the Day Children most certainly have save for a few embarrassed references, Cawl did not. Intrigued by the void scarred blood line with its plethora of recessive genes, he sent out his agents and asked for their geneseed. This they gave, uncaring in their lonely vigil.

Now their banishment is over and they have turned their gaze back toward the stars and its bloody wound.

Imagine their surprise when a beacon lit and called them. Imagine their surprise, when two thousand new marines, with new ships, new tanks, new bolters, rose waiting for new commands. A whole new infrastructure works just for them

However the Tenebrae are old, without the codex astartes, without the corrosion of forgetting, without the Lecticio Divinitas, without the Imperium itself. Still thinking of themselves in terms of a legion, fighting for the Emperor's new age, they were utterly alien. The new marines were confused, even as the Tenebrae immediately loosened the grip of hypno indoctrination, thinking it too high. Astartes are Astartes, they were not meant to be robots. By some miracle, the two forces integrate, the old crusaders referred to as elders, the primaris as young brothers.

The Tenebrae started expanding their numbers, not knowing or caring about the limits set by the codex. Indeed, the codex was rejected outright, as a short sighted mistake written by a traumatized primarch.

As a result, the Tenebrae are renegades without even trying. With Nihilus in shambles, no one cares who they are. No one calls out their casual heresies. No one reports them to the Inquisition. The Tenebrae have no idea what they represent.

Even as they fly towards a Ba'al they can't remember, to the brothers that won't know them, to beg forgiveness for sins no one remembers.

Their motto is: Sleep now, we guard the deepest night. Rest easy, we are here with you.

Their armor is black, as in the Imperialis, with a dark red helm and gauntlets.

[mist-the-wannabe-linguist]

Can Qursuk, Tama and Daegred still communicate after he becomes a Lethrblaka? Btw Shrike seems cool. Second dragon to begrudgingly accept Daegred?

I think it will depend on the degree of dexterity Daegred can retain in his hands post-metamorphosis to still be able to use sign language. Other than that he might be able to write in the sand and ofc communicate via gestures and emotion-indicating vocalizations. He would still have the hardest time talking with Qursuk since they need Tama to speak for her dragon, since Daegred is incapable of telepathic communication.

As for Shrike...

Fly with me, young one. Let me show you something. Qursuk hesitantly complied and took off after the giant dragon. He no longer feared Shrike and managed to gain back some of the natural respect a dragon feels toward a larger member of its kind, but the old dragon's tone sent a wave of unease down to the tip of Qursuk's tail which now twitched constantly. The lush forests passed by below them, intersected by rivers and overgrown fields, until they eventually disappeared altogether. From so high above, it looked almost as if the land fell into a bottomless void. As the dragons began to descend, Qursuk was able to recognize more detail - the ground was not black, but all kinds of sickly shades as if all the life force was sapped from the earth itself. Dead trees were sticking from the discolored soil like thorns, with gnarled, misshapen branches the sight of which made his stomach twist when they got nearer. For they were not branches. They were the decayed, sun-dried bodies of countless Lethrblaka. Their skin had shriveled and turned pitch-black, their heads hung limp on their long skinny necks and their beaks gaped wide open in eternal silent screeches. Their toxic blood seeping into the soil, the long-dried trails of which could still be seen glistening blue-green on the wood, was the cause of the dead earth all around. There were rows and rows of trees with corpses impaled on them, going as far as the eye could see. During their travels around Alagaësia, Qursuk had seen the execution grounds near Dras-Leona where the leading members of the Helgrind cult were hanged after the Great War and their skeletons left there as a reminder of their crimes even five decades later. What he was seeing now was like a hundred of such execution grounds.

Worst of all were the Lethrblaka's eyes. Black, lidless and pupil-less, they were indistinguishable from how they looked in life. Despite his ancestral memories, Qursuk had little experience with their kind, and with limited ability to tell the subtle difference between individual Lethrblaka, every single one of these corpses seemed like his friend Daegred, dead and staring down at him from every direction. Qursuk was so taken aback by these horrible sights that he didn't notice where Shrike was leading him, not until he could feel smooth marble replace the dry soil under his paws. They were in a city, or rather a town, smaller than those in Alagaësia but rivaling the center of Aberon in style. Despite layers of dirt and grime, the walls still shone with white rock too smooth for plants to grow on. And among all this beauty, there was heavy, everpresent silence. There was only one place Qursuk knew with the same contrast of beauty and emptiness - the ruins of Doru Araeba. Qursuk already had more than enough, but Shrike apparently had one more grim surprise for him. In the middle of a wide town square stood a heap of bones. Human bones, bleached by the sun into near perfect whiteness putting the surrounding buildings to shame, and so old that some have already crumbled into fine dust that filled Qursuk's nostrils and forced him to fight the urge to sneeze. The most horrible feeling, he thought, sneezing due to dust that once used to be people. He barely noticed the familiar tooth marks on the most intact bones when Shrike spoke. This, the inner voice was laced with old indescribable pain, a deep sense of urgency and unshakeable duty. This was what we had fought against. This is the fate that we saved your homeland from. One yellow eye turned to Qursuk with an apologetic look. This is why I cannot bring myself to trust your friend.

[melodythebunny]

outburst

“Carrie…not this again.”

“He's got a decent job as he mentioned…just give him a chance, Papa.”

Felix knew exactly who his daughter was referring to.

Steven Boxleitner. 

And frankly, Mr. Catswell did not approve of him.

The conversation had escalated into an argument. They've been having more and more lately as Carrie grew to be more independent. None however was as bad as this one.

“You are not going out with him Caroline!” Felix said, putting his foot down on the matter. His tone was on the line of not wanting to hear anything of the matter. He truly thought she would listen to his decision. She wasn't backing down, proving to be stubborn if not equally as him.

“YES I AM!” Carrie screamed with all her might. In an instant Felix had found himself slammed into the wall. Knocking down a few photos. His lungs burned as he tried to regain the oxygen he lost when he was flying backwards.

The worst part of it was that she hadn't even laid a finger on him. His anger turned into one of horror and realization. 

There was a moment of silence. The tension in the air was thicker than butter. Neither father, nor daughter broke eye contact. Carrie's breathing was harsh, almost like a rabid animal. If there was one thing Carrie shared with her mother, it was her fury.

Felix struggled to stand up on his bruised legs. He had been a fool. An absolute fool. How could he ever assume any of his kids had been normal? They were just like him. They had shared part of his DNA after all. His expression was still one of shock as he stared at his daughter.

Carrie's rage melted into a broken sob. Seeing she had harmed her father and  the fear in his eyes snapped her out of anger that was clawing at her soul. Regret filled her.

“Carrie.”  He stepped forward. His tone neutral, no longer holding the angry tone he had before. 

“Carrie….come here.”

She shook her head. Hesitant to be near him. Not after she had flung him to the wall. A small trail of blood dripped from her nose joining her tears on the floor. She stood in her former room crying.

“Is everything alright up there? I heard shouting.” 

Felix quickly spoke up after hearing his wife call from downstairs. “Uh yea. I just dropped a box of old antiques.” He fibbed. Carrie glanced at him puzzled. His response seemed to quell his wife's inquiry for the time being. No doubt, Catherine was ready to return to her afternoon nap. Silence returned back to the room as Felix faced Carrie.

“How long…?” He asked. He was referring to the earlier outburst of her telekinesis.

Carrie sniffed, wiping the blood away from her nose. Her eyes looked at the floor silent for a bit. “Sometime during junior high…” 

She was in her early twenties now…nearly a decade had gone by and Felix had been none the wiser. He had assumed she hadn't gotten the gene. He had hoped she didn't. She hadn't displayed any signs like Clayde had as a baby. It really wasn't fair. She didn't deserve this horrible fate.

Carrie looked cautiously at her father, taking note of his out of character silence. “Are…are you upset…?” The ginger wasn't a foreigner to her parents' dislikes of mutants and the like. She was not sure if she could face getting disowned. But they were parents…her family. The people she's known and loved the longest. 

Felix shook his head and embraced his daughter. He had kept hushed about his past to everyone. Even Catherine, the love of his life. There was no way he would send another of his kids away. Mr. Catswell would have to keep this incident a secret. Carrie knew she could never tell her mother about the damaged wall.

He just hoped she would stay away from that no good Boxleitner.

@blueweirdness @lartmacabre @dualnaturedscientist @ninjastormhawkkat @spaaceeboyy @liloskull343

Clayde belongs to @spaaceeboyy