#i wanted to do ace like ace pilot

[warrior-of-storms]

Yesterday, I did Reverse Robins. Today let's talk Reverse Arrows :)

Oliver Queen is 23, he's been Green Arrow for about a year, maybe a little less, and he gets contacted out of the blue with two things - one, his father is dead (he thought he already was? what?) and two, he has a half-sister named Emiko. She's 13 years old, and Ollie isn't going to be much of a legal guardian, but he's better than her assassin mom (which?? isn't that the lady who tried to kill him last winter??) or her assassin "father" (Ollie doesn't want details, he really doesn't, but what on earth happened to his sister?)

Emi wants to work with him. It's not like he can hide Green Arrow from her, nor would he want to, but he doesn't really want a kid out there with him, especially not his kid sister. But Emiko is stubborn, and she does good work, and Oliver eventually relents, if only to make it so she'll accept improvements to her gear and armor.

Oliver is 25 when he meets Mia Dearden. She's only a year younger than Emiko, and she also figures him out pretty dang quick, and maybe Oliver should get some kind of face covering (because there is no way he's shaving his precious goatee). Oliver Queen is a lot of things but first and foremost, he's a bleeding heart, so Mia is brought home and Ollie becomes her legal guardian. Unfortunately, she also likes the idea of working with him. Oliver tries to talk her out of it. Emiko trains her niece against Oliver's wishes. Speedy comes about, joining Arrows Green and Red on the streets. Oliver nearly dies of a heart attack every night but he does like having his girls with him, and it's better that they're with him than on their own.

Emiko and Mia grow up and move up. Emiko retains the name Red Arrow, but Mia outgrows Speedy and takes up Arsenal. They're 22 and 21 respectively when Oliver finds out about his son, Connor Hawke. Connor is 17 and also ridiculously skilled with a bow. He doesn't actually want to throw himself on the streets, which Oliver is grateful for, but it doesn't last. They team up one (1) time, and Connor is designing an outfit and Oliver has a new partner.

Oliver is so sure, so certain, that Connor's the last kid he's gonna take in (barring, like, another surprise bio kid) but he's so wrong. Connor's been living and working with him for about two years when Oliver meets Roy Harper. The kid's 13 years old, and great with a bow, and history is repeating itself. There's a new Speedy, with Mia's blessing, and Oliver can't help but wonder if Roy would get along with Batman's new kid, Robin...

[dashiellqvverty]

i have to say i’ve never personally been invested in ace jughead in riverdale, considering he’s been fucking since s1 and it was just clearly not the route they decided to go, but it is kind of shocking that there was never ANY asexual character in riverdale at ALL?? like on the one hand the show is very horny and sex-driven so i understand WHY but at the same time given the Everything about the show i wouldnt have been surprised by a character coming out and giving a little educational lecture a la “we’re both still bisexual and proud members of the lgbtqia+ community”

[alymccart]

[Click image > right click > "open image in new tab" for higher res]

Alright, uh. Screw it. Let's dust off this account. I was embarrassed about even drawing this, and especially about sharing it publicly, but I'm slapping it up here. Why not. Been extremely burnt out lately, doing art professionally has pretty much killed my desire to do art for the sake of enjoying it (sorry, fans of my dead comic). Mental health has been shoddy. Actual health is eh, as well. I've been too busy to really think and have been so guilty about there being so much stuff to do in my life still that I haven't really afforded myself time to relax or unwind. My enthusiasm for anything has been in the dumps for years. I don't think I've drawn more than a handful of fanart pieces in over a decade (what you see on here is pretty much it), and I've certainly never drawn something like... this. Obviously, I watched Hazbin finally (didn't even realize the show was an actual thing now, though I did love the pilot eons ago; I don't tend to traverse into fandom discussion and discourse so I've been out of the loop). I'm actually nearing double-digit rewatches... and the OST has been on repeat for weeks. Well animated, beautifully written adult cartoons? I'm here for it. Musicals? Oh yeeahhhhh! A well animated, beautifully written adult cartoon that is also a musical??? *teakettle noises*

I'm ace as hell, but wholesome, loving, devoted relationships like this in fiction seem to hit me right at my core. I also cry at heartwarming videos and movies, but that's beside the point... I just... hrrrnnnnggg... Charlie and Vaggie's relationship has SENT ME. It has an iron grip on my soul and I cannot stop it. I feel like i'm 14 years old again. I want to write fanfiction. Is it 2004?? Where am I????? What the fffffasdfasfagghfgfjhdd????????!!!! Aannnyyyyywayyyy.... This art gave me stomach butterflies the entire time I worked on it, as well as an immense amount of joy, and I really hope this can maybe do that for others. And I still have... so many ideas........ so many....

[requinoesis]

Do you have a favorite among them? Or are they equally your children to your heart

I certainly love them all equally! But there's a funny story about it.

Originally the story I wanted to tell about the sharkfolk town called Reefhaven (or Reefside, I couldn't decide on a good name yet), would be through the lives of three juveniles, you may have seen them around. Hanna (Bonnethead shark) , Lucca (Zebra shark) and Macco as the main protagonist! (Mako shark)

It was a simple story about when we dream too big about what we want to be when we grow up and discover that it won't necessarily be what we imagine, but that realistically it could be related. Hanna dreams of mastering music and singing, but discovers that her talent lies in composing musical instruments. Lucca dreams of writing a fantasy or RPG book, but will discover that his talent lies in creating dungeons and organizing level design. Macco, being the most abstract, dreamed of being a racing pilot and created an extensive comic book about it, only to discover in the end that it wasn't the racing that caught his attention, but how much it opened up his imagination and he would discover that he would be a good art director! With these three, discovering that together, they could create a video game together!

The creation of this video game would trigger important events for the well-being of Reefhaven and these three children would become a symbol of hope, motivation and inspiration for the inhabitants of the town, who are recovering from a collective trauma.

And to expand the story to tell the lives of other inhabitants, I then thought of creating the “idols” of inspiration for these three children, which they created a lot of expectation so that in the end these idols would help them open their eyes to their real talents.

⭐Macco's idol was a famous shark mako racing pilot called Vicky Stormrider. She was facing her own problems of wanting to end her career but was feeling trapped by the high expectations of her supporters and admirers, until an accident changed everything.

⭐Lucca's idol was a famous whale shark writer called Julian Whalesong, renowned for a fantasy book. He also had his own problems because he missed his dead daughter and was facing a creative block and pressure to create a sequel to his books.

⭐Hanna's idol was a shark band called Dreamfarers, which, guess what, is Roberto, Tiago and Aria's band! They were facing problems finding support to bring their music to life in the city, and at some point these three children's idols connected at a common event.

But by strange ironies of the universe, my mind traveled deep into the characters of this band, especially Roberto, I decided not to censor my imagination so I just let it flow to see where it would go. I went so far with Roberto that I created for him: personal problems and the ways he found to overcome them or find escapism, conflicts and resolutions in love relationships, childhood traumas, likes and fears, supernatural and mystical events, ancestral memories and origins, complex families, etc.

I have no idea why this happened, but I'm having a lot of fun so far! I haven't forgotten the three children, they will play a part in all this at some point, I think. It's a shame that my physical ability to illustrate is disproportionate to my ability to imagine, I'm quite slow at manifesting art into reality, I still want to show a lot of things, as many of them are unknown to me because I'm a person, introvert, ace and on the autism spectrum, so having feedback from other people who better understand the construction of captivating characters is a great light for me!

I'm very grateful to everyone who shows support or interest in my shork creations! 🌊🦈✨

[knight-a3]

Heavenbound AU

Masterpost

Angel Dust "Angie"

So I can avoid confusion between Angel and angels, his stage name is Angel Dust but he goes by Angie casually.

Side note: I'm too ace for this guy, yikes. Don't mind me clutching my pearls.

Spider family:

More notes under the cut to reduce clutter. There's info about the whole Spider family and some info about the Mafia as well.

Angie's redesign took me a while to nail down. I looked at other people's designs for inspiration, but nothing felt right. I wanted to give his head shape more structure, but it's too iconic to significantly change. Many people added spider fangs but I think they always look too cluttered and ugly. I also wanted the right balance of masculine and feminine for his outfit.

I am not a fan of heterochromia in character design, unless there is a reason or it's used sparingly. Angie's design is complicated enough with the gold tooth, extra eyes and arms, and body patterns that the heterochromia would just be too much.

Instead of giving him fangs that jut out like a real spider, I chose to just give him a main pair of fang-like teeth, while the rest are smaller.

It didn't make sense to me why he's able to retract his tertiary set of arms, beyond simplifying for animation, but I also do not want to manage all of them all the time, so I'm keeping that little ability. I'm justifying it with the idea that he was only ever somewhat interested in the family business, so he had less of a hand in it than his Pop or Arackniss(both of which cannot retract their extra limbs at all). I also wanted the sets of arms to have a hierarchy in how he uses them. Also didn't like the shoulders canon gives his secondary arms. They look weird to me.

The main set has 5 fingers on each hand and are relatively normal, because they're the equivalent of his human arms. The secondary set is a little smaller and a little more bug-like, with 4 fingers. The tertiary/retractable set are smaller and have 3 fingers.

I tried giving him a spider butt, but I couldn't wrap my head around how he would wear any type of pants. Not that he would be opposed to going around nude, but I just wasn't interested in that.

Casual:

I remember reading somewhere that Angel likes to dress more comfy rather than provocatively outside of work. So I decided his work outfits are the skimpy, sexy stuff. His main outfit is his typicall out-in-the-town fashionable stuff, which tends to cover him up more(gotta pay for those goods). And lounging clothes are just purely for comfort.

Main outfit-

I really wanted something that alluded to his mobster background. He may not really be involved of all that now, but it's still a part of him and that would linger. For as much as he modernizes, he's still a product of his time. Anyway, that's why I gave him pinstripe pants and a blazer.

I didn't want to lean too far into either masculine or feminine styles. He is undoubtedly feminine, but he was raised in an environment where suits and violence was the fashion. I actually searched for 40s gangster costumes for women, counting on the fact I'd find the silly sexy costumes so I could get ideas for a more feminine spin of the classic mobster.

I tried a boob window shirt for awhile, but it didn't let me show enough chest fluff. So I traded it for a V neck, which can work for both masculine and feminine styles.

Eventually I settled on a crop top blazer, since it gives a sort of suit jacket vibe while being feminine. I preferred the short gloves from the pilot, at least on his main arms, and used the longer style from the show for his secondary arms.

In canon, his "skin" color and the white of his clothes just don't have enough contrast. So I used more pink, and had the color of his fluff be a different hue than his shirt. I liked the stripes on his jacket before, but I didn't want to add any more complexity, especially when I already committed to the pinstriped pants.

Overall, I like this outfit for him. Maybe that has something to do with my personal tastes, but I think it suits him.

Body markings:

He wasn't a star until Val came around in the 70s, so he wouldn't have been quite so glam before that. He still had more mobster habits. I used his older, pre-pilot, Zoophobia design as inspiration, which used a low saturated purplish color. I thought it struck a nice balance between his mobster roots, and his later glam style.

I wanted to make the pattern something easy for me to remember. The heart design got pushed lower down because I needed more room for his chest fluff. His hands don't have anything because I didn't like how it looked with his lounge clothes. The stripes on his arms reference the stripes on his canon, pilot, and pre-pilot jackets. The stripes on his legs represent garters(suspenders that hold up socks or stockings).

Human- Anthony "Tony"

Many human versions of him that I've seen make him look too modern. I think they would absolutely work for a modern human au, but not for the 1940s. So this is my take on what he would have looked like while he was alive. The Mafia is almost exclusively Italian, and overwhelmingly Southern Italian/Sicilian. Sicily was settled by the Greeks during the antiquity period, so many people there have Greek ancestry. The vast majority had dark hair and a tanner complexion(less than 7% are blonde in modern day). Northern Italy has more variety, with up to 25% blondes in modern day. I find it unlikely that an Italian-American mobster would have such light blonde hair(darker blonde, maaaaybe). I found only a couple of a blonde mobsters, and the pictures still look pretty dark. I just believe he would have had a more typical Mediterranean appearance: naturally dark hair and olive-toned skin, rather than the fanon platinum blonde more typical of Scandinavian areas.

Hair coloring in the 40s was always done professionally, and primarily used by women, and they usually didn't want it to be obvious. Bleached hair on a man(especially with naturally dark hair) would be far too much to maintain discreetly. He hadn't publicly embraced his feminine side while he was alive. His family was Catholic, and being gay was a no-no. But murder was okay for some reason. Don't question the mobster logic.

His brother and sister knew he was gay, parents did not. Arackniss was too tired to care, and Molly was supportive. She would take him to be her "bodyguard" when she would go out and do fun things, but it was partly an excuse she provided for him to do gay things.

Angie had mixed feelings about his participation in the mob. Sometimes it was fun, other times he'd really rather be partying. But he was a made man and swore an oath of loyalty. He can't just back out.

He spent his free time with drugs, guns, and hot guys. Then died of drug overdose in his early-mid 30s in 1947.

He wasn't publicly out as gay until Hell. His parents hated it and basically disowned him when they found out. But why should Angie care at this point? He's already in Hell. So he just parted ways with them(technically the oath of loyalty ends at death. It's not like the Mafia can really kill him for leaving now, since they all just regenerate anyway) and has kept in sporadic contact with his siblings. They aren't close anymore.

Spider Family:

Ma and Pops were mostly because I wanted to play with character design. And since they have no official designs, I had more room to play with it.

The whole family became spiders because they were involved with the "web of crime" that is The Mafia. Family relation does not automatically mean sinners will look similar. They usually don't.

Pops (real name Enrico, the Italian version of Henry. Nickname "Big Cig". Almost every mobster listed on wikipedia had a nickname) inherited the position of mob boss from a relative. I'm not thinking hard about historically accurate crime families, so this is a fictional family that we will pretend had a significant presence. He died not long after Anthony, in the early 1950s in his mid 60s via gang violence. He never managed to get to the same level of power after his death. He's a minor Overlord at best, but does hold some influence.

In Zoophobia, Angel and Arackniss had a dad named Henroin. A play on "heroin". So when considering a real name for him, I searched for a variant of Henry that sounded more Italian. I designed him before I knew he had a design, but I wasn't exactly impressed by Henroin's design, so I totally ignored it anyway.

Design-wise, I wanted to go for a stereotypical mob boss vibe, and it lends itself well to the more bulky, crustacean look. The resemblance to Mr. Waternoose was unintentional. He cannot retract any extra limbs.

Spider traits- I wanted to give everyone varying degrees of spider traits, partially determined by their level of Mob involvement and how dangerous they are. Pa is venomous(through his clawed hands), has super strength(because spiders are proportionally strong compared to their size), can super jump(cuz jumping spiders is the theme), and can summon a couple of guns. He's too large to crawl on walls and can't spin webs.

Ma was always at Pop's side, helping with the less violent aspects like finances. She did her share of poison murders as well. Ma died alongside Pop and is still at his side. She's arguably the more dangerous of the two at this point. She looks easy to take advantage of, but it turns out she has potent venom.

I didn't have anything canon to go off of, so she's technically an OC. I haven't put a ton of thought into her name, but I think I'll just go with Maria. Molly is named after her, I guess.

Design- Had to go with a femme fetale mob wife. The hourglass motif is because of her venomous nature, and not for any husband-killing. She can retract her extra limbs, because she is more dangerous than she initially seems.

Spider traits- she's more venomous than Pa(through her extra limbs), can wall crawl and super jump with her extra limbs, and spin webs(to ensnare prey. I think it might come from her hair bun and/or mouth, but I don't want to think too hard about it.). She's actually the more dangerous of the two, partially because she appears less threatening, and partially because the way her extra limbs are set up gives her more reach and agility. She cannot summon guns, and she doesn't have super strength.

Arackniss (real name is Giovanni, Italian version of John. Goes by Jon. Nicknamed "Little Cig", "Don Jon") worked as the underboss until Pa died, then took over as mob boss, making sure Molly was taken care of. He died in a shootout with police in the 1960s. He was around 50ish. He is on speaking terms with their parents, and sometimes works with them. He's tired and very addicted to coffee and cigarettes.

Apparently an old QnA revealed his real name to be Jonathan. Not sure if it's still true, but I didn't find anything more reliable. I found no examples of any historical mobster named Jonathan, despite there being many many Johns/Giovannis.)

Design- I wanted him to be unable to retract limbs, unlike Angie, but also wanted to avoid drawing all of them. So I used his overcoat to cover them, and he habitually keeps his hands in his pockets. Again, he can't retract any limbs because he was heavily involved with the mob. I changed his eyes from red to yellow, because I felt the yellow suited him better and reduces the overuse of red in general.

Spider traits- He can wall crawl, has super strength(which most don't expect because he's pretty scrawny), has super jump, and can summon guns. He cannot spin webs, and his venom is non-lethal and inflicted via bite(which isn't super useful to him).

Anthony/Tony "Wild Tony" was a soldier in the Mafia. He could have been a Capo(caporegime) if he was more committed. But he had a tendency to party and goof off. Technically, membership of the mob ends through death. Being the first to die, he was separated from the mob and didn't care to recommit. Angie partied hard and enjoyed gun violence, until Valentino came along. Valentino swept him off his feet with promises of fame, fortune, and love, convincing Angie to sell his soul.

Design- already covered most notes, but for organization: he can retract one set of extra limbs because he was involved with the mafia, but he was lower level.

Spider traits- He has less than the previous three. So he can super jump, spin webs(via mouth...he can make it kinky), and summon guns. He technically can wall crawl, but not for very long, and he usually uses it for things like pole dancing. He is not venomous at all, and does not have super strength.

In canon, Molly is in heaven, but I don't find it likely because of how the Mafia works, so she's in Hell now. (Real name is Marietta, which is an Italian version of Mary, and Molly is a nickname)She was the spoiled daughter and knew about the family's criminal activity. She knew, profited, and didn't care. She's guilty by association. Anyway, I'm gonna say she died about 10 years after Anthony, approx 1957, around the age of 40. Haven't thought too hard about how she died. Then she probably went and found some powerful, hot guy to sell her soul to. Not sure.

Design- I was going to give her an extra set of legs, but I couldn't wrap my head around the anatomy of it and just decided to stick with extra arms. She can retract all her limbs because she was "hands off" with the mafia.

Spider traits- she has the fewest because she was the least involved with the mafia. Aside from the obvious physical traits, she can only spin webs(because it is symbolically more domestic. Also via ponytail and/or mouth, but I don't want to think hard about it). She cannot wall crawl, or super jump, has no venom or super strength.

The Mob:

The Mafia is very patriarchal, so all members are men, as women were never formally initiated. But women were still significantly involved in a variety of ways. Most often by instilling mafia culture to the kids, drug trafficking, finances, or economics. Some helped as launderers, couriers, shills(con artist), drug traffickers, informants, and other typically non-violent roles. Some acted as proxies for their husbands in prison(which is becoming increasingly common in modern times).

Quick chart for Mafia organization, via the FBI.

Simple rundown of terminology because I didn't know the difference between Mob and Mafia, and I've now done too much research to not write it down in a relevant place:

mob- a group of people, usually disorderly

gang- crime group, ranging from loosely organized street gangs to structured syndicates.

syndicate- group of individuals or organizations that unite for a common goal. Can be legal or illegal.

cartel- (type of syndicate) a group of individuals or organizations that collude to control a business market via supply and demand. Can be legal or illegal.

The Mafia- originated in Sicily. Ethnically Italian gangs, referred to as "families" that may or may not have actual familial relationships. Characterized by a distinct hierarchal structure.

The Mob- the American extension of The Mafia. (ie. it's the same thing)

The Commission- the alliance of the various Mafia/Mob families. Older generation members, called "Mustache Petes", only worked with fellow Italians, sometimes even only Sicilians.

The National Crime Syndicate- multi-ethnic alliance of various criminal organizations. Most prominent being The Mafia/The Commission and Jewish syndicates.

All somewhat organized crime groups are gangs. Crime syndicates have a higher level of organization, and cartels deal in specific businesses. Eventually the terms mafia and mob were applied to other ethnic gangs that operated similarly. Such as the "Jewish Mob" and "Russian Mafia". But THE Mafia and THE Mob refers to Italian gangs.

(Jan 28, 2025- fixed the tags) (Jan 31, 2025- added a couple more notes about his human design, particularly the hair color)

[dicenote]

Death Note characters ranked on how good they are at driving, from worst to best:

Near: I'm sorry, but he's not reaching the pedals. Like, if you could strap his brain to a car and make him psychically drive it, he'd do better than most people on this list. But in a regular car he'd unfortunately struggle. Maybe he can control the gas/brake while Rester steers, or vice-versa.

Matsuda: I just know that he gets distracted by every little thing. Funny road sign? New song on the radio? Discussing murder notebooks with his passengers? He suddenly forgets that he's in the middle of changing lanes.

Ide: Better than Matsuda because at least he keeps his damn hands on the steering wheel. He's considerably worse if Matsuda and/or Aizawa are bickering in the car with him, though.

Misa: Her placement can be shifted up/down a few spaces depending on your definition of "good". She will get you to your destination 10 minutes earlier than you expect, but multiple traffic laws will be broken on the way.

L: Look, I know he piloted a helicopter in canon without a license, but the sky doesn't have lanes or traffic lights. He can figure out how to drive the vehicle, sure, but his driving is chaotic and only marginally better than Misa's overall.

Light: Like L, he probably doesn't have a license and could work his way around a car. Unlike L, he wants to look like the perfect law-abiding citizen and will try his best to drive like one. He ends up going a bit under the speed limit because of this. L finds his behavior highly suspicious.

Aizawa: Completely average driver, other than the occasional bout of road-rage. Or Matsuda-rage, if a certain idiot is messing with the AC again.

Mogi: Also completely average, but goes completely silent while driving (except when working as Misa's manager). Is he focusing on the road, or does he just not feel like talking? Nobody knows.

Mello: Prefers motorcycles, but is shockingly capable at driving a wide variety of vehicles just fine. He'll even obey the law if he isn't actively committing a crime in said vehicle.

Soichiro: We saw him smash that car into Sakura. Dude managed to make that look cool as hell. When not breaking and entering TV studios, though, he's probably very good at going the speed limit and following traffic laws and all that boring stuff (he is a cop, after all).

Matt: Roughly half of his experience driving is from Mario Kart and GTA, but he can still somehow Tokyo Drift IRL. Theoretically, these could be points against him (see L's placement), but he's so bafflingly good that Rule of Cool makes him the best by default. My point is that he could drive normal, but where's the fun in that?!

[midnightarcheress]

another casino thingy with john price, bc why not?

cw: nsfw. masturbation, fingering, implicit exhibitionist price?, f!reader. idk shit about poker. 2 | more casino!141

you go to the casino again. not to gamble though.

at first, you were reluctant on showing up. it was nice of John to give you money for your services that night, and you couldn't deny the instant attraction lingering on your brain, but you didn't want to feel like a token, a four-leaved clover he picked out of the grass. also, you were convinced that your luck was a one-time thing, so why bother trying again? he surely found another charm to put in his pocket by now. 

however, those thoughts vanished from your mind when you heard a sharp knock on your door. 

you look through the peephole and immediately recognize the person standing in your hallway – mohawk guy. how did he...? your first instinct is to ignore him, but curiosity wins the fight against logic and you open the door.

"hello, bonnie." he smiles, "Price's waiting for ye," he blurts out before you can even ask anything. he's waiting?

for a minute, you don't think. your body moves on auto-pilot, scouring your closet for a decent outfit and smoothing down your hair to look at least presentable, as a stranger – Johnny, you learned – paces in your living room. 

the next thing you know, you're in the passenger seat of his car, one hand resting on your leg and thumb edging the hem of your skirt, driving downtown. you couldn't help but shudder at the tingling sensation of his fingers on your skin, and he just snorts at your reaction, amused. are they all this touchy?

thankfully for you, Johnny is a talker, so you don't have to do much work to pass the time. he tells you that John is actually the owner of the casino and that every friday night he hosts a poker game with some of his friends. that he and the boys – Simon and Kyle – help Price with the management and with making sure no one creates trouble, and that John hasn't stopped talking about you.

your eyes widen after his last words, earning a chuckle out of the scot and nearly making you forget the question that first popped into your head when you saw him at your door – how in the hell did he know where i live? but at this point, you're not sure you care. 

the light squeeze on your thigh alerts you that you've arrived, hopping out of the car and walking inside. the place is as packed as ever, but he leads you directly to the back, the same door as before. 

"there she is." John grins, already tapping his lap for you to sit, "now we can start." this time, you don't hesitate, happily obliging to his request even when a part of you cringes at your eagerness. you accept the glass of bourbon, neat, that Kyle hands you, and despite being too strong for your liking, you don't bother. probably tastes like John.

the first few rounds were tame, with low bets, but soon enough you see the flying 5000 chips landing on the table and hear the laughs getting louder, as he traces circles on your hip. you don't know if it's the alcohol coursing in your veins, the softness of his touch, or his hot breath on your ear, but warmth starts pooling in your stomach and your legs clump together to ease the tension.

John notices your squirms and devilishly smirks, enjoying your desperate attempts to forgo the desire building in you. "here, kiss it for good luck, Ace." Ace? his left-hand holds a chip up, as the right one sneaks between your thighs and pry them apart again, making you gasp. 

you timidly lean forward to press a quick kiss on the chip and instantly feel the heat creeping up your cheeks when his hand reaches your underwear. "you're so wet, Ace," he whispers, pulling your damp pants to the side. god, what is he... oh.

you try your best to be calm, not let the sensation of his fingers grazing your folds cloud your mind, but it's too much. your head tips back onto his shoulder, and any word that threatens to come out of your mouth and stop him gets caught in your throat. there's people around. everyone can see how much of a mess you are. and they... don't care?

his thumb gently rubs your clit as his middle finger toy with your entrance in an agonizingly slow manner, soft sighs escaping your mouth and eyes embarrassingly glossy focusing on the table. the game is still going, there's at least eight other men in this room, counting the players and the boys, fuck i'm– you bite back moans, gripping his forearm to keep him in place and to stop yourself from writhing in his lap. 

"easy, love," he murmurs, finally pumping his digit inside you, "such a greedy cunt." his tone is low, syrupy, dripping like honey over you and nearly making you cum at the sound of his voice. you nuzzle your face on his neck, muffling your whimpers and drowning in the scent of his cologne. "what's keepin' me from throwin' you on top of this table and takin' you right now, hm?"

"John–" you breathe out, coil on your belly tightening when he inserts another finger, hitting the spongy spot you were never quite able to reach, making you mewl with pleasure. his beard brushes on your neck and his warm lips trace your jaw, leaving an underlying burning on your skin that drops straight to your core. 

through half-lidded eyes you see the dealer finishing distributing the cards and the subtle twitch in John's mouth when he glances at his hand. your mind is too far gone by the point when they place the bets, too lost in the feeling of his frantic thrusts, velvety walls instinctively clenching around him to enhance the bliss.

the knot inside of you snaps and you cry out, limbs trembling in his hold and pure electricity travelling under your surface; it's intense, ripples through your core, heavenly overstimulating every corner of your body and sending your mind to outer space. 

you float back to earth and taste the metallic flavor in your mouth, bottom lip sore from biting too hard to prevent your screams. John nudges you back to reality with a kiss on your temple, "such a good girl, love." he flaunts his cards in front of your eyes, and after a few attempts to refocus your vision, he gloats, wide smile and lustful eyes directed only at you, "just won me thirty grand, Ace."

i'd love to write more of this casino universe but i'm very much lacking in the ideas department lol

[gub-bins]

YOU DO NOT HAVE TO PAY ANY MONEY TO SEE SPACE BABY.

YOU HAVE TO PAY MONEY IF YOU WANT TO SEE IT EARLY, ALL AT ONCE, WITH THE CREATOR TALKBACK. THIS IS A STARKID BUSINESS MODEL THAT HAS EXISTED SINCE 2014, IT IS NOT "BEHIND A SECOND PAYWALL", IT IS A WAY TO GIVE A LITTLE EXTRA MONEY TO THE ARTISTS WHO WORKED ON THE SHOW KNOWING FULL WELL THAT IT IS AN EXPERIMENTAL PILOT AND COULD FLOP.

anyways. hi this is my rant blog so here's the rant

tldr: starkid needs a social media manager, they don't make the youtube residuals or ticket sales profit you think they do, chicago and la are great places to do theatre due to the audiences they draw but they are SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE, capitalism is rotting this country from the inside out and starkid knows this better than anyone

first and foremost:

curt mega is not a legal representative of starkid and he is entirely within his rights to defend misconceptions about the art he makes. he is so respectful to the fandom on here, even apologizing to the confessions blog after accidentally following them because he wants fans to have a safe space where they don't feel like they're being monitored by someone from the company. there is nothing wrong with him trying to assuage people's fears about the show. debunk whatever you want my dude (including if i say anything wrong in this post!)

i am not, under any circumstances, a blind defender of starkid. they've made choices that i do not enjoy in the 15 years that i've been watching them. like i say in this post, i think fans need more notice than a week if there is going to be a livestream we have* to pay money for. i would like a musical that is composed by someone other than jeff or clark. i wish the black friday deluxe download had the digital ticket in it. i wish jangle ball could've come to the actual southeast rather than claiming to be coming to the east coast then hanging out in new york (but as you'll see, that would've cost MONEYYYY). you will notice that these are nitpicky personal grievances. that's the point. im not gonna shell out completely for a group of white guys in LA, no matter how autistic i am about the musicals they make.

as someone who also donated to starkid returns and has also been disappointed to see how long it's taken for this stuff to get off the ground (I absolutely loved cinderella's castle but i would not have minded waiting for it if it meant we got space baby sooner or sissy/ttip. i want to see/read Sissy SO FUCKING BAD)

but think about it. starkid returns made $386,000. a weeklong rental of the El Portal Theatre costs $12,000. so for two weeks of tech thats $24,000. the two weekends of performances were $6,000-7,500 each. it's $7500 per shoot day for a film production. already, that's almost $50,000. Now think about renting film equipment, making costumes, sets, props, paying the cast, crew, theatre technicians, house management, REHEARSAL SPACE RENTAL, we don't know if any of the actors had to be housed in LA while they were working on the show, not to mention getting merch made (FUCKING EXPENSIVE). And that's just on Nerdy Prudes. They also had an entire fucking national tour to fund. i ain't doin the math on every theatre they rented for that tho.

while the 10iversary kickstarter made about $547,000, considerably more than SK Returns, that money went into funding the travel and stay of the fuck ton of people who came to LA for the show, renting the Ace Hotel Theatre, funding Black Friday, and of course the unfathomably expensive Wiggly plushes, which were very kindly restocked what, three or four times? because the FANS kept begging for them. and then after all of that was said and done, the company took a huge hit with the pandemic. Some of the SK returns money probably went into making Workin' Boys too! That's what happens when a global pandemic shuts down all your plans for two years!

i was also surprised to hear that space baby wasn't going straight to youtube. I had it in my mind that it was going to be something similar to Movies, Musicals, and Me. I see now that I was incorrect. It's experimental. It involves SO MANY ACTORS. and not to mention starkid has been doing the digital ticket prior to youtube release thing for YEARS. my main thing is that i would be totally totally fine with having to buy another ticket for space baby (which is only $10 by the way, less than all of their other digital tickets. not to mention it includes the talkback afterwards) if they had only clarified it just a little bit earlier. Nightmare Time 2 was announced on October 8th, 2021 and the first ticketed livestream wasn't until the 23rd. that's two weeks, a whole week longer than we got for space baby. however, im willing to understand that there probably wasn't as much time to announce things/people have been a little bit scrambled lately due to, i dunno, having to evacuate due to the raging wildfire.

unfortunately, people aren't always going to understand that making art is fucking expensive in this day and age. i hate that starkid has to keep reiterating that but it might be smoother if they had a media trained person running the socials who had a prewritten explanation of "making stuff costs money" for the people who don't get it. and then when starkid DOES do stuff for cheap they get taken advantage of. i'm still not over those fuckwads who bought meredith's beautiful handmade coasters at VHSCC and upsold them for three times as much money. the people who bootlegged the black friday digital ticket and posted it online just cause they didn't want to wait the measly 3 months it took for the show to get posted online.

being angry when the person who made the show is looking at the tumblr tag for the show because he wants to see what people are saying about the show he made comes thru to clarify some misconceptions when the tumblr tag is full of people not understanding the starkid business model that's been around since 2014 is not the move. not the move!!!

[bittycmd]

My obsessions are collapsing onto each other like stars. Presenting: MD AU - Defense Attorney N (a MD&AA AU)

Yeah I just had this idea for some time now and I guess I wanted to share it now with you all; What is another AU if not opportunity for more fun stuff to draw haha, it will probably be expanded in the future. (Do not worry, the Cmol/name pending AU will continue)

This one is little more fun as reimagining all of the characters from MD as Drones made for (kangaroo) court of law, very well known from Ace Attorney series (which I adore).

N, previously a pilot & combat drone, takes on his dream of becoming defense attorney drone, through many trials and tribulations and thanks to help of his mentor, Tessa, he successfully became one. In the future, taking on nickname: 'Nick Turnabout' for his unconventional defense methods, and revealing the truth from the veil in impressive comebacks.

His first solo case was the murder of his mentor, and defending the accused - Cyn, a judicial assistant drone, who was Tessa's assistant. Fully convinced that Cyn didn't do it, as he knew her from time he trained to become a lawyer drone, he appointed himself as her defense, little knowing that this case will begin his legendary career and legendary rivalry.

As the case began, he saw for the first time, not knowing this yet, his biggest rival. A prosecutor, who has not lost one case since the start of her career, 'The Prodigy' Uzi Doorman. A brooding presence despite her short stature. Quick witted, sharp and always on the offense, Uzi proved to be a formidable foe in the court and keeping N on his wit's end, rebutting any bluff or weak defense he may have attempted and throwing in a little immature jab at him, as extra measure. Of course she is good, she is from the legendary family of prosecutors...

[eyecan02]

Alastor Analysis

Alastor's background regarding romance and sexuality goes all the way back to early drawings that depict Alastor crushing on Kay-cee.

The story then moves on from a crush on Kay-cee to a full on relationship with Mimzy.

It makes me wonder how Viv jumped from Alastor in a relationship to Alastor being ace. It feels like quite a wide leap. With Viv being the creator, I have nothing but respect for her but I feel like Alastor can still love/possibly do sexual acts while still keeping in character and looking out for #1.

I feel like while Alastor was alive, he leaned toward graysexual and this is why. I don't believe this man died a virgin. As we all know Alastor is from the 20s. He's in his late 30s/40s, meaning that it would've been uncommon for a man his age to still be unwed/unattached to someone. I'm sure he went on blind dates set up by his mom, and even occasionally slept with women in order to keep up appearances. He most likely did this in order to make his mother happy since any mother would've liked to have seen their child happily married.

And after Alastor became an overlord, the occasional sex probably didn't stop there, because Alastor is all about about keeping up appearances and deals. He definitely comes off as someone who would use sex as a means to and end. If a woman wanted to trade their soul in exchange for Alastor's protection and one night with him, I feel like Alastor wouldn't turn her down. It would be a decision that would end up leading to an increase in power for him. He just likely wouldn't kiss during the act.

Now finally onto Alastor's relationship with Charlie. From the beginning, we've all known that Alastor has his own agenda and reasons for involving himself with Charlie. He's a master of manipulation, knowing love is a powerful motivator (the way he manipulates Vaggie by making her feel bad about Charlie and the commercial) and also digging into Charlie's daddy issues.

It was clear that Alastor tried to play the boyfriend card to piss off Luci. It was only after Charlie introduced Vaggie that Alastor changed tactics and switched to the daddy card.

This means that Alastor would be willing to play any role to get what he wants from Charlie, whether the endgame is obtaining her soul or becoming her royal advisor or whatever. If Vaggie had been introduced in the pilot as a mere crush, Alastor would've caught onto the daddy issues quick and would've angled for a romantic role in Charlie's life since love and sex would be easy things for Alastor to manipulate (if my theory is right about him using sex as a means to an end).

I feel like this kind of materializes during the pilot with the way Alastor keeps pushing Vaggie out of the way, and how Vaggie seems jealous whenever Alastor impresses Charlie.

We don't know if this weird competition for Charlie's attention will persist between them as the series goes on considering that behavior was absent in season one. What's interesting is that the jealousy aspect switched from Vaggie to Alastor. The second Luci hugged Charlie, we're shown Alastor looking maliciously at Luci with his eye twitching in irritation.

What do we know about Alastor so far? He's an attention whore . He's used to being one of the strongest demon lords (at least from the pride ring) so suddenly not having attention, particularly Charlie's attention is making him act nuttier than usual.

Usually, it's hard for someone to be jealous without at least having some feelings toward the one they're feeling jealousy over. "Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit that one could get accustomed." This line is for the entire Hazbin gang, but also a real sign he cares for Charlie.

He can still have his own hidden agenda while caring about Charlie and being attracted to her. And he definitely is attracted to her. Calls her "charming and adorable". The constant touching.

Some might argue that that's just a part of Alastor's power play/dominance but he already knows that those types of moves don't intimidate Charlie. In fact, she never seems bothered at all when Alastor tries physically to get closer to her.

Also, the animators placing Alastor in Charlie's bed with both of them on a HEART pillow is insane. They know what they were doing. We see the way Alastor's hands possessively spider crawl up Charlie's shoulders and the way he grips her face.

And by the looks of it, Alastor seems to lust after Charlie's soul almost as much as his freedom. Viv has said that Alastor can't love anyone because he loves himself too much. Yet, she has also described Charlie as "Alastor's mirror".

The fact that they even made Charlie's color palette similar to Alastor's. Her hot pink jacket is almost a reddish color and they both wear bow ties. If Charlie is a reflection of Alastor then wouldn't that mean he does technically love himself by loving Charlie? He could be Charliesexual.

Not saying Viv will change her mind. She already chose her endgame. BUT what if Prime and Viv compromise and we get to have one sided Charlastor where Alastor admits to someone or even directly confesses his romantic love to Charlie herself (without actually trying to steal her from Vaggie)?

[roosterforme]

Does Jake ever have nightmares about a mission or his air-to-air kills in the Mr. Right Now Universe? If so, how do you think it goes the first time he has them when Darlin' is around?

Jake keeps his job pretty well separated from his personal life, but there definitely comes a time when the two can't help but overlap. Naval fighter pilots have it rough when it comes to having a career that is relatable to their partner, but Darlin' always pays attention to what he says. She also knows his moods. I can imagine him returning from a mission where he has a hard time disengaging... (long and angsty ahead)

He was going through the motions. Ever since you picked him up four days ago, Jake was with you, but he still seemed so far away. You thought having him back home again would make everything better, but you found yourself constantly swallowing down a lump of apprehension when you were with him.

"Do you want more pizza?" you asked, watching the way his green eyes shifted from a faraway gaze to focus on your face.

"Yeah," he grunted, accepting the slice without another word.

He wasn't making fun of your pizza. He barely commented on the movie that he insisted he wanted to watch. Even the way he treated you in bed felt off. It was confusing, and you hated the way you were doubting yourself. Originally you thought he just needed some sleep and good food, but he was barely saying a word to you right now.

Tears burned your eyelids as you got to your feet. "Are you not happy to see me?" you asked, voice harsh and raspy.

"What?" he asked, looking up at you, finally focusing on what you were saying.

You held your arms out at your sides. "I missed you, Jake. I missed you for weeks and weeks. I poured my heart out in love letters that I sent to you, but now that you're back, it's like you're still on the aircraft carrier."

He rubbed his hands over his face, a weariness falling into place that made him seem older somehow. "Darlin'," he started, but then he went silent again.

As much as you didn't want to say it, you had to. "Did you meet someone else?"

Images of an older, more sophisticated woman filled your brain even as Jake jumped to his feet. "No! Of course not!"

His arms were around you as you started to cry in confusion. "Then why are you so quiet? Why won't you talk to me?"

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Darlin', there's nobody else. I swear. I'm just having a hard time processing things."

"What things?" you asked softly, looking up at him. When he hesitated again, you led him to the living room couch and got him snuggled beneath the fleece blanket with you. Then you turned off the lamp and ran your fingers through his hair until he was ready to talk.

"You know, I guess I'm supposed to be thrilled that I have five air-to-air kills now," he whispered, voice low and filled with sadness. "It's supposed to mean something when you're an ace. But I haven't really slept in two weeks, because I can't stop thinking about it."

"Jake," you murmured, kissing his forehead even as his arm tightened around you. "That's a lot to process. We can talk about it if you want to."

You could already feel some of the tension easing away as he whispered, "I already feel a lot better just saying it outloud to you." He let you kiss him slowly all over his face as he said, "There's nobody else. There's not going to be anybody else. I promise I'm here, Darlin'. I'm just so tired, and I can't seem to shut down and just sleep."

Without another word, you rubbed circles along his shoulder with your thumb. Soon his breathing evened out, and he was asleep. You would let him sleep as long as he could.

[penguinsfly]

I unfortunately saw something I didn't want to see and that was my last straw. I'm fucking doing this.

Let's establish this first. Alastor is stated in the show to be asexual that is not up to discussion. He is also very heavily implied in the same conversation to be aromatic. 'An Ace in the hole' being used in context of him being with Charlie is also implying his aromanticism.

VIDEO

If that's not enough then here is Viv speaking about his romantic orientation. It's pretty clear despite the fact that afterwards she said it's okay to headcanon whatever (it's not but I will get o that later) that he is written purely as an aro ace character.

On top of that going by Alastor's interaction with Angel from the pilot and the first episode it is clear that he is sex repulsed. Not only that but on the fandom website he is stated to be touch averse with two sources which you can check out on the website.

Hazbin hotel wiki, Alastor page

Now we established that Alastor is canonically Asexual, Aromantic, Sex Repulsed and Touch Averse

As I also am all of the above I'll try to explain everything to the best of my ability as simply as I can.

Aromanticism and Asexuality.

I'm probably targeting the audience that knows those terms but regardless I will explain it anyway.

Aromantic - people that experience little to no romantic attraction towards any gender

Asexual - people that experience little to no sexual attraction towards any gender.

Little to no

Asexuality and aromanticism are spectrums in which people can feel certain attractions towards people but those attractions are less occurring or are defined by personal connection.

Diagram from AVEN website

However some people are at the end of the spectrum, they never felt attraction and that's valid. Alastor was stated to be aroace he wasn't written as demi or as gray he was written as aroace as in the end of the spectrum. His repulsion and not giving shit about romance or sex speaks for itself.

Representation

I do understand that everyone wants to be represented but it's so important to understand that aroace people are one of the most underrepresented queer groups in the media.

And I'm not here to scream about how I want my fav character to be just like me I don't care for it I'm way too confident in my orientation to rely on that however I'm tired of explaining to people what asexuality and aromanticism is just to receive 'are you sure' or 'you'll change your mind' or 'its not real' or the community favourite 'you'll find the right person' no I won't I'm not looking thank you very much (I just smile and nod to be polite and I'm sick of it).

'Harmless' buts like: 'He might be on the spectrum', 'AroAce people can still feel attraction' hurt the final outcome for all the people on the spectrum not only strictly aroaces because it allows people to write one shots with 'Demi Alastor' that falls in love in 2000 words because he is 'demi' (spoiler alert: they don't understand what that label means). It's just a cover, an opening, sneaky way to disregard his orientation, feel good about themselves and move on. Newsflash there is no moving on for aroace people it's our life.

Shipping

Shipping is just harmless fun right? Usually yes but not in this case. In the same way its not okay to ship gay characters with genders they are not attracted to.

It's erasure and since there is much less people identifying on aro/ace spectrums then there is gay or bi people our voices are being silenced. Not to mention that gay people received support from entire LGBTQIA+ community over the years in contrast to aro/ace specs who to this day are told that we are 'not queer enough' or 'not oppressed enough' often by other queer people.

And finally... FINALLY we get cannon Aro/Ace character that is clearly not interested in romance and sex. Character that beats stereotypes of boring and timid aro/ace people and what's the first people do? They ship him. Alastor's storyline provides so many points to be explored like 'what is his backstory', ' what's about his deal', ' how does he fit in in the found family trope' , 'does he care about hotel guests' yet people choose to write about the only thing that he is not interested in. As a heavily repulsed person that used to be horrified about the fact that I'll have to fall in love with somebody at some point before I found out what aro/ace is I find it repulsive and trust me he would too.

But Viv said it's okay!

Its the same point once again. What if Viv said that it's okay to ship gay Angel with woman. She doesn't have authority to say shit like that.

Queerplatonic relationships

I can't tell you not to do it I don't think he would be necessary interested in it but for fuck sake do your research and try to understand what queerplatonic means before you use it as a cover to shamelessly ship him. Respect the fact that he is sex repulsed and touch averse and you're fine.

Why can't you just avoid it?

First of all I shouldn't have to. Alastor's orientation should be respected in the fandom like any other orientation is. Second of all I've tried. I tried to only look up AroAce Alastor tag I've blocked over 80 people on tumblr alone (I just counted) to avoid to see anything that could trigger me and I'm not talking about slightly shippy posts or fanarts I'm talking about full blown disregard towards his orientation. Guess what it didn't work!

Archive of our own where do I start. I've used this website for over a decade and I could probably count days I didn't go there on my fingers. I'm fluent in AO3 I know which tags I should block. I know how to skim thorough the summary and tags to see if I'm interested. I've seen shit I'm a shipper I've been on ao3 for ten years but never had to mentally prepare myself to face queerphobia as I click on the tab.

Just use aro/ace Alastor tag.

I do and let me tell you people can't tag for shit or they just pretend to be clueless at this point. Besides see this?

there is more ff with Alastor/reader (disgusting) than there is Alastor with his canon orientation and to play the devils advocate for arophobic people there is more Angel/Alastor then his stated in the show sexuality. I understand that fandom goes back before the show was aired but Viv confirmed his orientation back then too.

Summary

I could go on and on bout different issues and maybe I will in the future but I'm not wasting anymore of this weekend on it. I'm ready to answer any questions as long as they are respectful.

I'm aware that he is a fictional character, it doesn't affect him in any way whatsoever but it does affect aromantic and asexual people keep it in mind.

If there are any mistakes grammar related I'm not sorry I'm fluent in English (not my first language) but I took 3h nap in between and I'm sleep deprived.

Have a nice day.

[one-sunny]

Cabin by the Lake | Local Diner

Portgas D. Ace x F!Reader, Modern AU series

06- When Luffy’s birthday turns into a group get away to a small cabin by a lake, you cannot deny his own brothers an invitation. Surely the week long get away would leave a lasting impression with his eldest sibling.

uhhh no warnings really but sharing food. i know some people are weird about that stuff 🤷‍♀️

Wednesday: Local Diner

You wake with a start, a hollow aching in your chest, and the room empty of your two friends. Despite your positions splayed out on the bed there is a deep seated knowledge that you will never be as comfortable and calm as you were during the movie last night.

And that alone, that fluttering of anxiety brought about, was enough to wake you fully.

Going through the motions of your morning routine is fairly easy. Yet there is something gnawing at the back of your mind the entire time. It holds an emotion that you cannot quite unlock at this hour, a thought that you unconsciously push back on, so that you can continue with your little vacation with a clear mind. You invested far too much time and money on this trip to allow it to be ruined by something a menial as your feelings.

Dressed for the summers day, you head downstairs to join the others in the breakfast spread already being picked on by the group. You collapse into one of the open seats and survey the variety of plates. Everything seems to be mostly intact, except for the platter of sweet rolls, and your shoulders drop in disappointment.

A knee knocks against yours under the table and you slowly turn to face Ace. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good, actually.” You smile at him. “What about you? Luffy actually stay in his own bed?”

“Yes, thankfully.” Ace rolls his eyes dramatically. He then turns back to his plate, and you believe the conversation to be over, until he reaches out in front of you to place a small plate down. “Saved these for ya.”

Your eyes turn to the small platter, fish painted around the perimeter of it, and notice the two sweet rolls with the icing that you like so much. The ones that you have eaten every single day this week, as Sanji has always made sure they were there at your request. “Oh.” Your voice is low and that ache has returned. “T-thanks, Ace.”

“No problem.” He simply shrugs and returns back to his meal.

Your eyes cast around the group, smiling to yourself at the light that each person seems to exude. It seems that the vacation, your own little break from life, has done wonders for everyone here. One light seems to shine the brightest though, and you catch yourself throwing occasional glances his way, allowing it to warm you through.

“I really think we should check it out!” Nami’s voice is chipper as ever as the sounds of forks scraping on plates reverberates through the room. Her eyes meet yours and you urge your brain to catch up on the conversation. “It’s supposed to be a cute little, local diner.”

“The ladies at the sale were raving about it.” You confirm, taking a slow sip of the fresh juice.

“Tired of my cooking already, my dears?” Sanji places a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“Of course not,” Nami quickly shakes her head, not wanting there to be any threat of Sanji not cooking for the remainder of the trip. Not that he would ever do that to her. “But you deserve a break for a night, this is your vacation too.”

Sanji shrugs, “I enjoy what I do.”

“It’s just one night.” Robin offers a smile.

“Yeah! And then you’ll be rested up to cook a big feast tomorrow!” Luffy grins, practically vibrating in his seat.

Sanji rolls his eyes, but voices his agreement nevertheless.

As plates empty and drinks are downed, everyone gets up to go about doing their own thing. Sanji waves off any offers of help with the dishes, especially with the knowledge of having a break, and the lingering crew is shooed out of the kitchen.

You move about your day on auto pilot, checking in with everyone as you wander mindlessly around the cabin. No agenda and no real goals for the day. It was something that started to gnaw at you in an odd was as you were left alone with your thoughts.

Before you could spiral any deeper, Ace pops into the room, patting at his pockets as if checking something. He scans the room with furrowed brows until his eyes land on you. “Oh, hey doll.” He grins at you, demeanor light. “You know where my keys are?”

“Think I saw them on the kitchen counter.” You remember the heat filling your face at the sight of his alligator key chain. He quickly turns to the kitchen, an aha soon followed by the jingling of keys. You watch him enter the room again with curiosity peaked, “And where are you going?”

He clutches the keys in his hand, mouth opening before he quickly stops himself, head tipping in thought. “Do you, uh, wanna go for a drive?”

“Where to?”

“Dunno.” A cheesy grin is offered to you. “Just wanted to go out and drive.” His shoulder leans in the door way as he watches you, brows raised and biting his lip as he awaits your answer.

And that look. That stupid look.

It was far too intriguing to deny. “Let’s go.”

You quickly follow Ace outside and to his car. He tugs the driver door open with a smile that he can’t seem to wipe away. The drive was meant to be his reprieve from the group, a moment alone, but he couldn’t deny that he was satisfied with the new development.

As you settle into his passenger seat, he works to hook his phone up, before handing it over to you. “Play me something good, doll.” He teases, as if he didn’t have the most broad taste in music imaginable. You scroll through his many playlists as he backs out of his parking space, turning the car towards the winding back roads. The smooth sounds of ABBA soon fills the air and Ace grins, reaching over to crank the volume. “I love this song.”

Ace begins to tap the rhythm against the steering wheel, head tipping back, before absolutely belting out the words. You break into a fit of giggles at the unexpected performance, watching as he does a little dance in his seat. “Come on, doll. Don’t play ABBA if you’re not gonna put on a performance with me.” Gone was the man quietly mouthing the words to the music days ago, replaced by the one entirely comfortable in making a fool of himself in front of you, seemingly with a goal of making you laugh. “Let’s go, it’s the chorus, you gotta know this.”

And who are you to deny Ace such a request? You follow him into the chorus and his energy only seems to raise at this. Amidst his little dance, he takes your hand in his, shaking it with emphasis to each word.

Songs change one by one, the energy staying high, and laughter echoing in the guitar solos. Ace drives with little purpose, taking winding roads and pushing the two of you further and further into the back woods. At some point, he turns off into a clearing to turn the car around and not get the two of you too lost.

As Ace throws the car in reverse, you lean forwards to turn the music down. “Alright, what kinda instrument do you play then? It’s gotta be something with the show you’re giving me.”

A grin pulls to his face as he throws an arm around the back of your seat, looking over his shoulder to avoid backing the car off of the mountain itself. You watch him closely, his body leaning towards yours and that sly grin on his face.

“I can play guitar, but I don’t perform or anything.” He moves his arm back to put the car in drive. “A little drums too, all just for fun though.” Eyes glance both ways for a brief moment, before he turns to look at you. “But i’m glad you were impressed.”

A playful smile pulls to your lips, “Well, I never said I was impressed.”

“Awh, you wound me.” He presses his palm to his chest and pouts at you.

“Awh, don’t cry, Ace.” Your bottom lip pokes out to match his pout and you don’t miss the way his eyes flicker down to track the movement, your breath catching in your throat. He meets your eyes again and a flush overtakes his freckles.

You’re not given the chance for a comment as your phone rings. Both of you jerk back in surprise, Ace’s eyes turning to check the road again before he is pulling out. You raise the phone to your ear without even checking the name.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Nami’s voice crackles over the line.

“Out on a drive.” You simply answer.

“A drive?” She pushes. “With Ace? Are you-“ The line cuts in and out as you only pick up a few syllables every now and then.

“Nami, you’re cutting out.”

Her voice finally cuts through, clear as day. “We’re starving!” You pull the phone away at the sheer volume she was speaking.

Ace chuckles, having overheard the statement. “Tell them to meet us there.” He simply shrugs. “We aren’t too far out.”

“Yeah, Nami just meet us there. ‘Kay?” You can vaguely hear her shout out an okay, followed by crackling words and pauses of silence. “Can’t hear you, love you, bye.” More crackling ensues but you hang up the phone. You toss your phone back into the cup holder in favor of Ace’s. “Do you know where the diner is?”

Ace nods, but you’re too deep in his playlist to notice. “We passed it up earlier.”

“Oh,” You raise your head to stare out the windshield in thought. “I didn’t even notice.”

With a simple shrug, the music is flowing again.

The concert ensues but it is a little bit more calm this time. Instead of belting out the lyrics, you’re given a moment to truly hear Ace’s voice, the sound washing over you and making your heart skip a beat. The next song you queue up is something you hoped matches his tone and allowed you to hear more.

But the diner is soon coming into view, much to your disappointment, and Ace is pulling into the gravel lot. The others hop out of the two cars as Ace parks, stretching their limbs as if they had been in there for ages.

Luffy bounces on his heels, “Let’s eat!” He beams as the group rush forwards. Part of you feels sorry for the wait staff and how much they were about to have to handle with your group.

You and Ace trail behind the group, bumping each others shoulders and sharing playful glances. As you enter the diner, you already see the group following after a waitress towards a large circular booth. Everyone slides around in the booth, Ussop pausing to allow Ace to slide in with Sabo, sending you a look as you move in beside of Ace.

Ussop takes place beside of you, elbowing you in the ribs and wagging his brows at you. You send the man a death glare before turning to flip the menu open.

Ace lets out a yawn as he looks over the menu, almost missing the waitress turning expectantly towards him for his drink order. He offers a sheepish smile to the woman. He shifts against the vinyl seating, bumping your shoulder by pure accident, and pulling your attention away.

“You okay?”

“Got really tired all the sudden.” He shakes his head.

You hum in thought, “Talk to me then. What are you getting?” And he seems grateful for the distraction, babbling on about the southern chicken platter sounding good, but the burgers sounding even better. Of course, he would want an extra side no matter what he ordered because he realized that he was absolutely starving. His appetite could combat Luffy’s, after all.

Then the attention is called to Zoro and Sanji’s bickering, something about the former being grateful to have a break from Sanji’s meals. A shouting match ensues and Nami lands a swift smack upside both their heads as she scolds them.

Conversation chatters on, and the woman is soon returning with two others at her side, all with giant trays in hand. They begin passing out plates, with the bulk being offered to the brothers. The group remains rowdy as ever and easily break the quiet ambiance of the local diner.

You dive into your plate of food, the chicken platter, happily shoving the food into your mouth. Crispy and perfectly seasoned, a grin pulling on your lips. Everyone else happily indulge in the southern style dishes, grins all around, and you had to admit to yourself that it was nice seeing Sanji so relaxed after a week of catering to you all. You offer a sideways glance to see Ace shoveling food into his mouth, freckled cheeks cutely puffed out, as he seemed to be enjoying his burger.

“Hey,” You call to him, cutting off a piece of the chicken to drop on his plate. “Try it, ‘s really good.”

Ace grins as he pops the piece of meat into his mouth. He nods in satisfaction, “Good, but the burger is definitely better.” Then he collects the greasy burger into one hand. “Try a bite.”

And as if it was the most casual thing in the entire world, you take a bite off the burger he was already halfway through. The melted cheese blended perfectly with the tangy barbecue sauce, but you shake your head at him. “You’re crazy, the chickens definitely better.” He dramatically rolls his eyes in response.

“Your tastebuds are broken.” Then he is reaching over to one of his side plates. “Here, try this. These are better than anything else.” He drops a couple of the fried cheese curds onto your plate.

You toss one in your mouth and a smile pulls to your face at the satisfying taste. “Okay, you’re right about that at least.” You collect the other one and lean into him a little bit, “Can I try the sauce?” You nod to the miniature ramekin that came with the dish.

“Sure, but they’re better without.” He picks up the black dish to offer over the dip.

Dipping the fried cheddar, you pop it into your mouth. “Oh, Ace, you’re crazy.” Your eyes blow wide. “That sauce is so good.”

“Well have at it then, doll.” He shifts his plates around to place the cheese curds between you. “I’m willing to share.”

You match his grin as you grab another.

The waitress puts in the work, but everyone is ever grateful for it. Sanji especially commended the woman for her work. She clears plates away as they empty, refills drinks, and even joins in on some of the groups banter.

Amidst this, you hear Ace yawning yet again. He leans against the space that has now been emptied in front of him. Ace’s eyes flutter shut, cheek slumping against his palm as sleep won over the best of him. His body was ridged but you figured it was a matter of time before he slumped fully against the table.

You gently place a hand on his knee and squeeze it in effort to wake him without startling him and causing a scene. Ace jolts awake at the feeling, back straightening, as he offers you a quick smile of thanks. Though he turns quickly, you don’t miss the way his cheeks flush. His hand dips below the table to grab for yours, clutching your hand and giving it a squeeze, a clear battle to stay awake flickering across his face.

You lift a hand as the waitress comes by, leaning over Ussop to order a black coffee, before she is off again to a new table.

The woman soon returns to gently place the white mug beside your iced drink. You silently slide the mug over with your free hand and offer another squeeze to Aces fingers.

The blush returns on his cheeks to accentuate the freckles fanning across his skin. “Thanks, doll.” Ace smiles as he collects the hot coffee.

The table that was previously overwhelmed with plates is now significantly dwindling down as everyone finishes up. Your waitress continues to pop in and out, the older woman reveling in the charming words of the blonde cook whenever the mood strikes him. The energy drops steadily as everyone gets their stomachs full.

With everything cleared up, the group lingers around the table in waiting for the undoubtedly hefty bill split a solid ten ways. You had apologized to the woman for having to split it up in such a way but she waved you off with a grin- “Just remember this when you’re leaving a tip.” And with a cheeky wink, she was off.

Despite the black coffee, there was still a tired glaze about Ace’s eyes.

“Alright, Ace, give me the keys. I’m driving back to the cabin.” Sabo juts his hand out. Ace goes to speak his protest but his brother quickly cuts him off. “Yeah, yeah, i’m sure you’re fine. But i’m not letting you wreck out in the middle of nowhere.” The two glare at each other for a long moment, before Ace relents and drops his keys into Sabo’s open palm.

The group divides up into the three cars- the brothers taking Ace’s car while you, Robin, and Ussop take Nami’s car and the guys pile in with Franky. Pleasant conversation passes between Nami and Robin in the front, while you are left in the back with Ussop side eyeing you. But he never makes a comment on the entire ride there.

However, when you arrive at the cabin, Ussop is calling you to sit with him outside on the porch. You already have an idea of what the topic of conversation is about to be as you plop into the porch swing beside of him, the chains swaying you both gently.

“Sooo,” Ussop drags out the word as he worries his shoe against the stained wood. “What’s going on with you and Ace?”

“Me and Ace?” You can practically feel your heart in your throat.

“You and Ace.” Ussop narrows his eyes.

You shrug with the facade of nonchalance, “We’re becoming friends, least i’m pretty sure we are.” Ussop tips his head back against the seat, staring up at the ceiling, and drawing in a deep breath.

“Friends?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Ussop rubs a hand over his cheeks in exasperation. “I know you like to take care of your friends,” His head tilts to look at you closely. “But what was that at the diner?” Heat fills your cheeks and you force your eyes away, staring at the sun setting over the lake.

“I don’t know.” You purse your lips.

Silence lingers for a moment.

“Well do you have feelings for the guy?” He prompts, observing you very closely for any true indication. You blow out a breath and continue staring out, before throwing your hands out in a half hearted gesture to convey you do not know. “If you ask me,” His shoulder bumps yours in a shrug. “Or Nami. Or Robin. Or Franky.” He quickly adds. “The two of you are definitely falling.”

“Falling?” Your attention snaps to him. “Ussop, I barely know the guy.”

“Oh, so you’re in denial.” He huffs a laugh as you roll your eyes at him. “Been there.” The glare you send him does not deter his ramblings as he continues before you can protest. “But it’s different with a guy like that, ya know. He’s Luffy’s brother and that can really complicate things.”

“So i’ve heard.” You mutter bitterly.

Ussop sighs to himself, fidgeting with one of the many bracelets on his wrists. Worry furrows at his brow. “Do you remember Kaya?” He cannot meet your eye as he asks this.

“Your ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah, that one.” He chuckles a humorless laugh. “You may not know this, but I used to be good friends with her brother. We were really close before I started dating her.” His voice is thick as he continues. “I don’t think i’ve seen his face since we broke up.” Hands drop in his lap as if they were iron weights. His words linger in the air for a moment before settling equally as heavy on you. “I’m not saying anything like that will happen if you do end up falling for Ace, but it’s something you should keep in mind.”

“Yeah, okay.” Your voice is low as you sink lower into the seat, allowing your head to fall on Ussop’s shoulder.

He slaps a hand onto your knee. “I’m not saying ignore your feelings, by the way.” Ussop speaks lowly, gently swaying the seat as he thinks over his next words. It seemed obvious that the newly found affection for Ace was far from the affection you held for the rest of your friends, no matter how heavily you denied or ignored it. “Just communicate and don’t be stupid for once.” You swat at his hand and his shoulders shake your head as he laughs.

The atmosphere shifts to normal as you watch the sun dipping low.

A thought pops into your mind. “Sooo,” You drag the word out. “Anyone having these conversations with Robin and Franky?” Your gaze tips up to Ussop just in time to catch the dramatic eye roll.

“I’m having them with Franky but that guy is kind of hopeless.” Curls fluff into your eyes as Ussop shakes his head. “Think they’re in the same state as you.”

A scoff leaves you, “I’m in no state.”

“Keep telling yourself that, doll.” Ussop grins.

Series Masterlist

tag list: @flooofity @certain-tragedies @zzzzzoey @stuckinmymind22 @kanekisheart @lxpofthegods @weirdothatreads @dailybrekker @spyderst4r @nejilost @thekatisspooky

[shadowsndaisies]

hangman meets 'thena

wc: 1.7k

synopsis: word is, there's a new pilot on board carrier air wing nine, and she flies for the VFA-14, the Tophatters.

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: the highly requested hangman and athena meet blurb, let me know what else you'd like to see from this universe, especially things that exist outside the storyline. or even if you just want more of certain characters. This serves as a precursory understanding to Jake and Athena, it probably doesn't answer every question about them, but it might help you see their foundation a bit better. but special shoutout to @djs8891 @tgmreader @rory-cakes and @fanreader75 for asking specifically about hangman and athenas dynamic (mentions at the end as well)

You’d heard of him, everyone active had. The only active aviator with a confirmed kill, never mind that your dad had two.

Hangman was exactly what you expected if you were honest.

Phoenix, who had taken an instant liking to you as soon as you’d been reassigned to the Tophatters, had filled you in on all the Lemoore gossip. Phoenix flew with the VFA-41, the Black Aces, also based out of Lemoore, and in fact, on the same carrier as you, Commander, Carrier Air Wing Nine. Her first order of business was getting you caught up on the carrier, that included learning the players, and while she was happy to introduce you to different Naval officers, the only one she warned against was Hangman.

Someone really should have told her that at your core, you were your father’s daughter.

Let it be known, you did not go looking for him. He appeared in all his Ken Doll Aviator glory as you were doing a morning check on your F/A 18E. Apparently he also flew an F/A 18E, ‘Nix on the other hand had an F/A 18F, as she normally flew with a WSO.

He approached, full of cocky attitude, and maybe it was all the years being raised by both Ice and Mav, but when he spoke it was like you could understand him just as fluently as you did with them. You could see where Nat was coming from with “honestly, Athena, Hangman in two words? Texan Douchewad.”

“Well, Howdy, darlin’, scuttlebutt was that there was a new girl on board, glad to meet you, name’s Hangman,” was his introduction.

You couldn’t help the smirk when he said girl, “Isn’t the hallmark of a proper southern boy, that he’s, well, proper?” you shoot back, eye brow quirked. “I’m a woman, not a girl.”

It was fun, watching the way his smirk melted, how his brow furrowed, as he tried to catch up.

“You-”

“Phoenix gave me a run down, but to be honest, I’ve always preferred forming my own perceptions,” you shrug, as you continue your check.

As you brush past him, you aren’t surprised to hear him following after you. “Ah, so my reputation precedes me then?” he muses, and you can see the way he uses his charm and humor to cover, a shield of bravado, too bad he didn’t realize you were raised by bravado.

“Not exactly, though I did see your plaque at Top Gun, to be fair, I saw Phoenix’s too,” you shrug again.

“So you’re the fresh blood, huh?” he prompts, and finally you turn and smile at him.

“I guess fresh blood is better than being called new girl. Name’s Athena, you’d do well to use it,” you tell him, smile in place.

“Athena? As in th4e Greek goddess of war and wisdom?” he asks, brows furrowed down.

“That’s the one,” you nod, moving to check the landing gear.

“Athena as in, the Naval Aviator who climbed through the ranks and had two separate stations before she went to Top Gun?” he follows up and you turn.

You turn to face Hangman, and now your brows are pulled, “How’d you know that?”

“I keep tabs on things that pique my interest,” he shrugs, and your lip curls on the end. “Rumor was you had Admirals arguing over who got you under their command…”

“Nice to meet you Hangman,” you decide finally, climbing back from under the plane, and offering him your hand.

“Pleasure’s mine, Miss Athena,” he smirks back. “It true your old man flew too?” he tacks the question on as he shakes your hand.

You can see it in his eyes, nepotism, you know it’s where is brain’s gone. It’s like you couldn’t escape it, everyone assumed that’s how you got as far as you have, as quick as you have. They were wrong.

“Yeah, mostly f-14s though, nothing with the juice of my baby,” you straight up lie, so what if your dad was still flying? So what if he was probably flying f/a-18s or something experimental? No one but you needed the specifics, and you’re pretty sure it wouldn’t help you fight against the nepo-baby claims. Too bad no one realized how much of a detriment being attached to Maverick actually was. It made most of the higher ups uneasy about taking you on, unsure if you’d inherited your father’s need for speed and reckless streak, you had, but you were just better than him at keeping it in check, if Ice taught you anything, it was that — “ice cold, kiddo, no mistakes.”

“Must’ve been nice, having a leg up like that,” he’s still smiling as he talks down at you.

You match his smile and catch the flicker of confusion in his eyes as you walk up closer to him. “It was, see, it prepared me for a lifetime of dealing with cocky naval aviators and their inflated sense of bubble wrap bravado.”

“That all?” he presses, staring down at you, the two of you now face to face, staring hard at each other, but you caught the little twitch of his eye at your term.

“No,” you smirk before turning and walking away, “but I’ve got a hop to prep for, see you around Hangman.”

…

He finds you in the Mess later that day. You’d just returned from morning drills with your squad, and was eating with Phoenix.

“Ladies,” he greets, setting his own tray down in the seat opposite you.

“And I’ve officially lost my appetite,” Phoenix decided, standing up. “Athena, I’ll catch you later, I’d say it’s nice to see you, Bagman, but we know better,” she states, grabbing her tray, patting your shoulder and walking away.

“You sure know how to clear a room, Hangman,” you note, eyes flicking to Phoenix over Hangman’s shoulder, Nat was clearing her tray and pauses to look back and roll her eyes dramatically as she looks at Hangman’s back.

Your lip twitches and you lift your glass of water to cover up the smile threatening to split your lips.

“Bubble wrap bravado,” Hangman repeats back to you, echoing your statement from yesterday.

“What about it?” you challenge.

“Explain it to me,” it’s not a question, not in how it’s phrased, but you understand that he is asking.

“Protective to an extent, easier to pop than you think, so long as you apply the pressure properly. Problem is, everyone knows when it does, it’s usually a bit loud,” you explain, and he seems so incredibly focused on you.

You didn’t mind the hyper-focus though, you’d coined the term a long time ago. It had originally been for a different boy, one with a temper, but who you’d watched grow up. Ice had thought it an apt descriptor, he’d even taken it to describe a few officer’s he’d interacted with over the years.

“Hmm,” he hums, eyes glued to yours.

“You disagree?” you ask.

“No. I think you hit it on the head,” he admits and your lips curl up just the slightest bit, at least he seemed honest… cock sure and stubborn too, but honest.

“A naval aviator for a father was a lot of things, Hangman,” you admit, hesitating for a moment, deciding how much you wanted to say. “It was limited time, and firm goodbyes. It was getting behind a yoke for the first time when I was 12. It was learning ranks at the same time I was learning how to do multiplication,” you say, and you study how his expression changed which each revelation. “Having a Naval Aviator for a father might have given me a home field advantage, but that’s all it did. The rest, the wings, the assignments, I earned those,” you tell him seriously.

“Sure you did,” he nods along condescendingly, but his eyes betray his curiosity, and for now, that was enough for you.

You smile again at him, though this time it is a bit sour. “You don’t believe me, that’s fine, fair even, to be skeptical. But you should know, you’re gonna eat crow when you realize how wrong you were,” you tell him seriously, before standing up with your plate and glass, and walking away.

…

You get your chance to prove him wrong just a few days later when the Tophatters get assigned to a drill with both of the other squadrons on board the carrier, the Black Aces, and the Vigilantes. Meaning both Nat and Jake are in the air with you.

After is the first time Jake looks at you with something other than cocky contempt. As if seeing you fly up close resolved some of his concerns, but there’s still something there. He was waiting for the other shoe, too bad no one told him that you’d had both feet firmly on the ground since you signed your life to the Unites States Naval Services.

You get paired with him about a month and a half later for a cover assignment for an emergency evac of a SEAL team.

Normally assignments were set within squads, but it was an emergency evac and the carrier was docked. You and Jake had been the closest to the carrier at the time who were qualified, and so you were the two who were sent off. You flew south into South America, and while a lot of the details were later labeled as redacted, Jake never questioned your ability after. Nor should he. You saved his life.

He did however decide that meant you were friends, much to the immense annoyance of one Natasha Trace.

Considering the entire mission had been classified and redacted, you weren’t able to explain a lot of it to her, but when Jake started choosing his words a little more carefully she did her best not to start anything either. When he started sitting with you in the mess, she eyed him carefully. And when he started following you around in any downtime that lined up, she kept her mouth shut.

She found a new case study in the two of you, the outward and obvious differences between Hangman with Athena, and Hangman without. Her eyes jumping from how easily you let your guard down with him, and how utterly soft Hangman could be when he thought no one was paying attention.

Natasha, to her credit, had tried, desperately tried, to get more information out of you regarding your budding friendship, but all you would ever offer was a simple, “people tend to be more complex than what meets the eye, ‘Nix, I’m proof of that. So is he, and so are you.”

She decided then and there, you had way too much tact and patience, and maybe, just maybe, that was what Hangman needed.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291 @whoismurphyslaw @kee-0-kee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @thespillingvoid @youdontknowe @burningcoffeecupp @mrsevans90

...

[mlqueen89]

Four | Boundaries

Are there some aces up your sleeve? Have you no idea that you're in deep? I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week How many secrets can you keep? 'Cause there's this tune I found That makes me think of you somehow an' I play it on repeat

Do I Wanna Know by The Arctic Monkeys

pairing: jake “hangman” seresin / ofc (top gun: maverick)

rating: 18+ (minors dni)

Warnings/triggers: smut in overall series, mentions of parent death/absence, swearing (let me know if i missed any!)

word count: 8,274 summary: the one where ellie assembles the avengers her team and pulls back the curtain on her tech. jake switches up his approach and ellie grapples with early push back from the pilots. A/N: this chapter and the previous chapter were originally one chapter, but my magnanimous beta kindly told me to chop it in two, which left some breathing room for the wonderful opening scene, of which i’m so incredibly proud. and then i let my fingers go wild, and this chapter got split in two. basically, it’s so clear at this point that i’m gonna need more than 10 chapters to tell jake and ellie’s story properly. these kids are just the most fun, but also, the most stubborn.

this one is plot heavy. this whole chapter (technically 4 & 5) was the most exciting and fun chapter i've written for jake and ellie’s story so far, i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i've added a bunch of terms to the glossary, so feel free to head there if there’s something you’re not sure of terminology wise. i really wanted to make this authentic – ya know, as authentic as fanfiction could be. ❥ playlist ♡ masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ glossary of terms ♡ previous chapter ♡ next chapter ❥ 

Midway Park, Lemoore, California — 2005 

The early morning October air was crisp, carrying the faint smell of fresh cut grass and rubber tires as families gathered around the makeshift track for the annual soapbox derby.  

Ellie clutched her helmet under one arm, the other hand resting on the sleek grey soapbox car she and her dad had worked on for weeks with interspersed help from one or more of his old wingmen. Its reflective paint gleamed under the sunlight, a perfect replica of his old F-14 Tomcat, right down to the call sign, now replaced with her name and RIO painted on with the steady hand of her uncle Wolfman. 

She’d excitedly run the race in her head as she tried and failed to sleep, her eyes scanning over every detail of her helmet sitting on her dresser across the room and the olive one-piece flight suit hanging behind her door in the dim glow of the moonlight seeping in through the cracks in her slatted blinds. She hadn’t even eaten her whole breakfast that morning, partly because Wolfman had cracked the egg wrong in the pan and there were shells to pick out of the scrambled eggs, but mostly because her stomach tossed. Her legs swinging impatiently under the table as she pushed her food around her plate and watched her dad read the paper and sip his coffee like he had all the time in the world.  

“Alright, Ellie, here’s the deal, kiddo,” her dad said, crouching to her level. In his aviators, Ellie could see the reflection of her wide eyes before she took a look at the lineup of cobbled together cars and the other kids crowded around the roped off track. “The under-10 category?” he waved his hand, dismissive, “that’s baby stuff. You’re better than that.”  

Ellie frowned, her small hands gripping the curved edge of her old ski helmet, scrawled with uneven, bubbly kid letters RIO. “But I am under 10. I’m eight and a half and...” Ellie paused to count on her fingers, her pink nail polish chipped and barely there, “... two days!”  

Rick tilted his head toward his wingman, Leonard “Wolfman” Wolfe, who stood nearby with a clipboard and a devil-may-care smirk. “Not today, Rio. Today, you’re 10 and a half—officially. Right, Wolfman?”  

Wolfman tapped the clipboard with a pen, his mischievous grin widening. “Right-o, born two years earlier than the records say, 1994. Funny how paperwork can get all... mixed up.” His hand waved in the air, a magician performing a disappearing act, shaking an etch-a-sketch.  

Ellie’s eyes widened as her gaze shifted between the two men. “Dad, is that… allowed?”  

Her dad chuckled and ruffled her hair playfully. “Let’s just say it’s a tactical adjustment. Mid-flight maneuver. Trust me, you’re ready for the big leagues.” He crouched closer, lowering his voice. “You wanna race against kids who can barely steer, or you wanna take on the best and show them what the Nevens are made of?” Her dad tapped the patch with the wings stitched to the left side of her olive coloured jumpsuit, the last name Neven, E. embroidered there.  

Ellie’s lips twitched into a gap-toothed smile, her nerves melting under her dad’s infectious confidence, the feeling of pride blooming in her chest. “The best.”  

She reached up to touch the patch, her tiny fingers grazing the fine stitching. Ellie, her dad and Wolfman had hovered over her mom’s shoulder as Ellie’s thrift store coveralls turned flight suit passed under the thumping needle and thread of her mom’s sowing machine, each stitch pinning the embroidered patch to her uniform. She’d felt the importance of it then and now she carried it like a plate of armour. 

“That’s my girl,” her dad beamed widely before he stood again, slapping Wolfman on the back. “Alright, make it official, Wolfe. She’s in the higher category.” 

Wolfman offered a half-salute before he scribbled something on the form tacked to the clipboard and stepped up to the registration table, where a volunteer in a bright yellow shirt shuffled through forms. “We’ve got an entry for the 10-and-up category,” he said, sliding the clipboard across the table with a pop of the chewing gum in his mouth, a wry smile on his lips.  

The volunteer, a woman in her mid-forties, frowned, gathering the clipboard with a wary look at Wolfman before she redirected her green eyes to squint at the paper. “Eleanor Neven? Didn’t she race in the under-10 category last year?” The woman’s eyes passed between Wolfman and Rick and then stood slightly to peek at Ellie over the edge of the table before they returned to the form, her finger tapping at the birthdate, skeptical.  

Rick flashed a dazzling smile, the aviators reflecting the woman’s face back at her as he clicked his tongue. “Kids grow up fast, don’t they? She’s been eating her Wheaties.” For effect, he patted the top of Ellie’s head and pulled her to his side.  

“Plus, last year was a mistake. Wrong birthdate on the form. Happens all the time with military families. You know how it is—paperwork gets shuffled around, lost.” Wolfman added smoothly, leaning against the table as a line formed behind him with other families waiting to register.  

The volunteer hesitated, glancing between the two men again before she sighed, unclipping the form from the clipboard before she slid it into the appropriate pile and began gathering the numbered aprons. “Well… if the birthdate checks out—” 

“It does,” Rick said firmly, all the while his smile never wavered. “I triple-checked it myself. Wolfman here looked it over too. We were both there when she was born. She’s ten and ready to roll.”  

The volunteer’s eyes narrowed, her gaze passing from her dad then to Wolfman before she quietly handed over the documentation.  

Ellie watched the exchange for a moment before she reached up and tugged on her dad’s sleeve as Wolfman collected the stamped form and they stepped away for the next family to register. “Dad, what if they find out? Isn’t this cheating?”  

Rick crouched again, resting a hand on her shoulder as Wolfman crouched behind her, clipping the numbered bib there. “Rio, here’s the thing about flying—or racing,” he reached out to pat the edge of the soapbox plane’s greyed body, “sometimes, you gotta bend the rules a little to get to where you’re going. It’s not about cheating—it’s about knowing you’ve got what it takes, even if the rules don’t think so. Pushing against the limits a bit so we know where the edge is for next time. Tell you what, when we see Uncle Mav, we can ask him about it, huh?”  

Over her shoulder, Wolfman snorted loudly, before he coughed, clearing his throat as Rick shot him a look before he moved on to wrap a numbered arm band around Ellie’s bicep.  

Ellie’s gaze flicked to the track, where older kids were already testing their cars, their faces set with confidence. She squared her shoulders, set her jaw and nodded, though her fingers fiddled with the straps of the helmet tucked under her arm. “Okay, Dad. Let’s do it.”  

“Atta girl,” Rick said, standing and saluting her before he clapped his hands together, rubbing them in anticipation. “Now, get ready to smoke ‘em.”  

They wheeled the soapbox to the race area, Ellie’s fingers tapping out on the outside of the helmet under her arm, her heart beating hard in her small chest. Instinctively, Ellie walked around the soapbox car, her fingers brushing the frame.  

“Always do your preflight before boarding,” her dad had been gazing at her in the rearview at the red light two intersections before the race grounds. 

“Visual 360, fuel and instrument check.” Ellie had nodded, listing off the checklist; her neck craned from the back seat to see if she could scope out any other racers headed to the track. She unbuckled her seat belt to slide closer to the center console before Wolfman threw her a look over his shoulder. 

“Seat belt in this aircraft, kid.” He tutted at her, sliding his aviators down his nose as he popped his gum, pausing on filling out the registration forms in his lap, “you think we’re rule breakers?” 

“We’re not?” 

“Rule benders,” Wolfman corrected, levelling her with a look until she slid back into her seat and buckled up with a click before he pushed his glasses back up and turned his eyes ahead, “we prefer the term rule benders.” 

Climbing into the soapbox, Ellie settled into the low seat as her dad crouched beside the car, sliding the helmet over her head and clipping the strap under her chin. Wolfman leaned forward and tapped dutifully on the top of the helmet, as her dad adjusted it, tugging at the chin strap sharply. Wolfman grinned at her, but when he spoke, it was for his wingman. “She’s ready for this, you think?”  

Ellie’s eyes found her dad’s through the clear visor as he snapped it down over her eyes, his features softened as she smiled her gap-toothed smile at him and adjust the helmet around her head. “She’s a Neven, Wolfman. She was born ready. Right kiddo?”  

“So, Tilly’s given the a-okay, then?”  

Ellie didn’t miss the look her dad threw at his WSO over his shoulder. 

Wolfman raised his hands and chuckled. “Fair enough. Let’s hope she doesn’t notice we didn’t tighten the steering bolts all the way.”  

Rick’s eyes widened. “Wait, what?”  

“Relax, Hollywood. I’m kidding.” Wolfman chuckled, clapping him on the back. “Mostly.”  

Her dad groaned as the announcer called for racers to line up and he pushed her car onto the pitched ramp, the ready position. Ellie gripped the wheel as her front tires settled against the gate, the countdown echoing overhead.  

Ten.  

Nine. 

“Preflight checks complete, Lieutenant Neven?” He asked, standing at attention beside the soapbox, his voice calm and steady as the countdown reached the last eight seconds. 

Eight.  

Seven. 

“Preflight checks complete.” Ellie’s foot tapped on the break and twisted the steering wheel, leaning over to watch the tires pivot on spot. “Pattern clear?” 

Six. 

Five. 

“Pattern clear, aviator.” 

Four. 

Three. 

“Requesting clearance for take-off, sir.” 

Two. 

“Clearance granted, Lieutenant Neven.” 

One. 

“Go get ‘em, Rio,” she heard him whisper as he leaned over, pressing a kiss to his fingers and slapping them on the call sign stuck onto the front of her helmet. “Let ‘er rip, kid.”  

The gate in front of Ellie’s car dropped, her wheels moving forward and the soapbox rolling down the pitched track. Despite herself, she gave out a squeal of excitement as she gained speed, the wind picking up and whipping the strands of hair that escaped from under her helmet around her face. 

The world around her blurred, the orange, red and yellow hues of fall rushing by her in a wash of colour, thrill of the speed and the race flooding her senses. For a moment, the sound of the wind and the beating of her heart, she felt like she was flying, a small dot in an endless blue sky. Hollywood and Rio.  

On the second turn, as she broke from the pack of other racers, Ellie felt the change, the sudden increase in speed as the wheel in her hands vibrated and rumbled, wobbled and jammed, harder to steer. But then the hill grew steeper, and her soapbox car picked up more speed than she expected. Ellie’s heart jumped into her throat as she tried to remember what her dad had said about staying steady, about procedure if she came up on a problem with the steering. The third and final turn came fast—too fast—and Ellie leaned into it hard, pulling the stiff wheel as far to the right as she could muscle, but she felt when the car beneath her veered sharply, suddenly uncontrollable. When the front wheels hit a natural dip and then sudden bump in the track, Ellie felt it in her stomach. 

The next few seconds were a blur. Ellie’s grip on the steering wheel slipped, the wheel jerking to the right. Ellie felt the soapbox pitch before she left the seat inside, the sting of pavement rubbing a hole in the arm of her flight suit, hot and raw. In an instant, she felt the sharp pain shoot up her arm from her elbow as she tumbled awkwardly, the world around her spinning. 

The prickle of the hay bale stuck through the back of her clothing as the shooting pain in her arm intensified, the world stilled as she looked up at the blue sky above. Around her, she heard the hum of the wheels passing her and the eruption of cheers as the racers crossing the finish line. 

The taste like a handful of pennies in her mouth came next and when her hand went to her lips, it came back red. From where she lay on the grass, she could see the canopy of autumn leaves clinging to the branches, the blue sky filling in the rest of the mural overhead. 

Her head was spinning, and tears welled up in her eyes, leaking down the side of her eyes into her ears, as the pain in her arm intensified. She tried to sit up but whimpered, clutching her arm close to her chest. The finish line taunted her in the near distance, the checkered banner billowing lazily in the breeze. 

Suddenly, her dad was there, dropping to a knee beside her. “Ellie! Hey, hey—are you okay?” His voice was panicked, but his hands were gentle as he scooped her up into his arms, holding her close to his chest. 

Ellie sniffled, tears rolling down her cheeks despite her best attempts to hold it together, the pain in her arm and the sting of losing when she had been so close, the perfect storm that threatened to break her composure. “I-I broke it, Dad,” she managed through choked sobs, her arm cradled against her body, her breaths coming in gulps. As if an afterthought, she traced her front teeth with her tongue and hiccupped a small sob when she found a larger gap there than had been before, “and I lost a tooth.”  

Her dad’s face softened with a mix of something Ellie couldn’t quite map, his brow pulling together into a line as he brushed hair away from her face, tucked it up the lip of the helmet still stuck on her head. “Aw, kiddo, I’m so sorry. We’ll get you fixed up, okay? Let’s get you to the hospital.” 

Shifting her, he fished the car keys out of his pocket and handed them to Wolfman who, without a word, took off toward the parking lot at a clipped pace.  

Ellie could only nod weakly, burying her face in his chest, the familiar scent of his aftershave and coffee settling her, cocooning her. Even through the pain, there was a comfort in his arms, the sound of his heart pounding in his chest, thumping against her tear-stained cheek centering her like the tick of a metronome guiding her back to calm. 

As they headed to the parking lot, each bump or bounce of her dad’s gait a painful jolt to her arm, pushing a hiss from her lips, she heard him whisper softly, against the side of her helmet. “You were so brave, Rio. I’m so proud of you.” 

Ellie nodded with a sniffle as the sound of Wolfman pulling up the van closer, brakes squealing, drew her attention. “Mom’s gonna be mad.”  

“Oh, don’t worry about your mom, kid.” Ellie watched as her dad tried to laugh, but there was also a hesitation there that stopped his lips from turning up into his usually contagious, mischievous grins. “Your mom’s not gonna believe I let you get behind the wheel on the 10 and over track.” 

Ellie let out a soft, watery laugh. Tilly Neven wasn’t one to trifle with. “You’re in trouble.”  

Rick chuckled this time, the sound reverberating through her as he stepped over the curb into the parking lot and Wolfman slid open the door to the backseat, for a second, her dad held her a bit tighter. “Yeah, well… wouldn’t be the first time. Won’t be the last.” 

Ellie had never been good at public speaking. She’d never joined a debate club or been the first to volunteer her ideas if it meant a presentation.  

Once she’d received the text from Tony, confirming the tech upgrade and the program installation in the jets, she’d relaxed, but only slightly. It still meant that she had to do the part of her job she disliked the most, “the elevator pitch”. 

She’d have to face the men who would be flying her tech and say Hi, I’ve added a hunk of metal and some wires into your jets. It’s going to help, trust me. Ask them to put their trust in her, their lives in her hands. It won’t malfunction according to these computer simulations. It won’t leave you hanging in a dogfight. Pinky promise. 

She didn’t expect it to go off without a hitch. She didn’t expect them to cheer and lift her up on their shoulders. 

All she needed was a chance, a small bit of faith before they leapt. 

Ellie stood at the front of the briefing room, her hands resting lightly on the podium, her gaze scanning the faces of the four pilots clad in green flight suits seated before her. The air smelled of stale coffee and old leather, the scent of a room that had seen countless debriefings, strategy meetings, and quiet moments of reckoning.  

She had spent years developing this technology, refining it, arguing for its place, its relevance, in the future of aviation. She’d tweaked it here, twisted its usefulness there, bridged a gap when she’d been turned down at one turn and climbed through windows when doors closed in her face. Now, standing here in front of the men who would be the first to fly with it, she had to vault this hurdle too, convince them it was worth trusting with their lives. Standing here, pitching for their faith in her, was more nerve wracking than presenting in front of Admiral Simpson and Rear Admiral Stark. 

Taking a breath, Ellie steadied herself, ignored how Teak and Lover scuffled between each other in their seats, how Hangman’s eyes never left her, the feeling of his gaze, eyes focused, hot on her even when she wasn’t looking at him. Rooster sat behind him and kicked his chair with a well-aimed boot, the sudden jolt of his seat enough to knock Hangman out of his stare. 

She didn’t ask for their attention, didn’t wait for them to notice that she was ready to begin. With a click of the remote in her hand, the screen behind her flickered, displaying the blueprint layout of an F-18, its labelled components taken straight from the NATOPS handbook. “Gentlemen. I assume Captain Mitchell has already given you a brief overview of what to expect, so I won’t waste your time on introductions or small talk and formalities.”  

From the corner of her eye, Ellie could see Mav fold his arms across his chest, his eyes trained on her. He’d given her the floor immediately without preface, without introduction. 

“You’ll recognize this as the wireframe of your F-18,” Ellie continued before she clicked to the next slide. An overlay slid into place, the standing systems overlaid with a complex web of radar signals, AI pathways, and electronic warfare integrations—her tech, on full display, laid bare. If she was expecting a reaction, they didn’t give her one, just silence. 

“What you’re looking at is the next step in avionics evolution,” she pressed on, her voice steady, turning toward her audience. “A fully integrated, adaptive system that combines radar, AI-driven threat assessment, electronic warfare, and seamless data-sharing into a single interface. Instead of relying on separate, often outdated systems, this package will allow you to fight, evade, and communicate with a level of efficiency we’ve never seen before.” 

If her heart wasn’t beating in her ears, she would hear the silence that met her words. She’d recognize it as the silence that wasn’t the good kind, the kind of silence that led her to over-explain herself. But she didn’t. 

Rooster, sat forward, his forearms on the table as he studied the schematic with an unreadable expression. Lover was nodding slightly as he squinted between the screen and scribbling notes in a small flip notebook he’d pulled from the breast pocket of his flight suit. Hangman lounged in his seat, fingers laced behind his head, smirking, carefully flipping a toothpick in his mouth. And Teak—Teak sat back, arms folded over his chest, a look Ellie recognized as the tell-tale look of skepticism written across his face. 

Ellie paused, her eyes drawn down to her notes. Pause for pushback, she’d written. She didn’t have to pause for long., 

“So, what?” Teak drawled, tilting his head slightly, waving at the screen. “You want us to trust some... glorified autopilot to make our decisions for us?” 

Unflinchingly, Ellie met his gaze, actually looking at him for the first time. Teak’s jaw flexed; the sharp lines of his cheekbones and nose lending him a striking appearance. His eyes, an intriguingly particular shade of cerulean, not unlike a clear September sky, studied Ellie as she took her time to process the response. “No. I want you to have every possible advantage when you’re up there. The AI isn’t replacing you—it’s making sure you have all the information you need, exactly when you need it.” 

Ellie clicked the remote again, and the screen shifted to a simulation. Two aircraft maneuvered through a contested airspace, one operating on traditional avionics, the other using her system.  

The first fighter responded only to what its sensors could detect, reacting to threats as they appeared through visuals or radar. The second fighter’s system anticipated missile locks before they happened, evaded before the pilot even registered the danger visually, and counter-jammed enemy radar before the target was painted. “It’s all based on data, numbers. But right now, those numbers look very good,” her eyes turned to the screen and watched the simulated planes for a moment, observed as they streaked through the mock mission, data readings popping up on what looked to be a pilot Heads-Up Display. 

“This system isn’t meant to fly for you,” she continued, turning back now as the simulations continued to play on loop on the screen behind her. “But it will see threats before you do, adjust possible countermeasures dynamically, and ensure your radar stays clear even in a fully jammed environment. In short? It gives you an advantage over the enemy, helps make sure you have a better chance at coming home.” 

Hangman broke the silence next, the sound of his low whistle drawing Ellie’s attention as he leaned back in his chair, his open legged posture, relaxed as ever. “Well, damn. That’s one hell of a sales pitch.” 

Rooster, his eyes still flicked across the data readings displayed on the screen behind Ellie, his fingers tapping absently against the table. “How fast can it adapt if an enemy starts throwing curveballs? Let’s say a bogey or SAMs or laser guided missile systems.” 

Ellie clicked again, dismissing the simulation and bringing up another set of figures. All colourful charts and data sets. She’d come prepared for this line of questioning.  

“Milliseconds. It’s built on machine learning models trained on thousands of real-world engagements. The more it’s used, the smarter it gets. If someone tries to jam your frequency in one way, it recalibrates instantly. If an unknown aircraft enters your airspace, it cross-references flight patterns to find weaknesses, predict its next move before you would have to react. It shows you possibilities.” 

“So, you’re saying it levels the playing field against fifth-gen threats?” Lover was sitting up now, his pen tapping against his open notebook, his broad shoulders rolling forward as he pointed at the data set. Ellie thought she read excitement in his hazel eyes as he thumbed his nose. 

“I’m saying it not only evens the playing field, but it tilts it in your favour.” 

Silence stretched between them, charged with something between curiosity and uncertainty. 

“Sounds like a lot of fancy tech that can get hacked, fail, or—oh, I don’t know—override pilot input at the worst possible time,” Teak said flatly, Ellie could almost detect the chortle behind his words. Convincing Teak would be a challenge. 

Ellie forced herself to pivot—she had dealt with resistance before from officers ranking higher than Teak. Early on, she had learned pilots didn’t like change, especially not changes that altered the way they had trained, the way they had survived. Wolfman had told her as much the first time she’d passed the idea by him, Mav had all but told her what to expect from every level of Naval officer, so she wasn’t about to let skepticism derail the entire briefing. Skepticism was a given. 

“It has redundancy systems,” she said evenly. “If one function is compromised, the AI reallocates resources to keep the essentials running. If something catastrophic happens? Manual override is always in your hands. It’s a tool, an aid, not a replacement for skill.” 

Teak scoffed before he loudly popped his chewing gum. “Yeah, well, forgive me if I don’t put my life in the hands of an algorithm.” 

Hangman chuckled, tilting his head toward Teak who sat a row behind and to his left, a lazy grin growing on his face. “Teak, buddy. You sound like my granddad bitching about GPS when it first came out. Relax, old man.” 

Rooster huffed out a quiet laugh. Lover fought a smirk. Teak’s jaw ticked as if he swallowed his words. 

Ellie let the moment settle before she spoke again.  

“Look, I know this is all new. And I know change isn’t easy to trust. But the fact is this system isn’t here to hold your hand. It’s here to keep you alive in environments where traditional systems would leave you blind, deaf, and dead in the water.” 

She let her words sink in before she continued. “I don’t expect you to trust it yet. That’s what testing is for. But I do expect you to fly with it and see for yourselves, let it speak for itself.” 

Ellie scanned the pilots before her; Teak’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing more. Rooster sat back, nodding slightly, still mulling it over. Lover shrugged, casting a quick look around the room, eager. Hangman just grinned, his eyes never leaving her. 

“Well, sweetheart,” he said, the amusement in his tone clear as he adjusted his seat in the chair, “I do love a good test drive.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes and ignored him, clicking the remote one last time to pull up the first test flight parameters. 

“Good,” she said. “Because you’re all wheels up in about 30 minutes.” 

Maverick clapped his hands together, rising from his chair. “Alright, aviators; suit up and make your way to the tarmac. Let’s see what this tech can really do.” 

The room stirred to life, chairs scraping against the floor as the pilots stood, some stretching, others already discussing the upcoming test amongst themselves. Ellie stayed put, gathering her laptop and notes, methodically shutting everything down. 

The pilots filtered out one by one. Rooster passed the podium, tapping out a quick rhythm on the edge and shooting her a small nod on his way out, and Lover muttered something about looking forward to seeing it in action as he tucked his notepad away before air drumming with his pen. Teak, however, barely spared her a glance as he brushed past, his shoulder grazing hers a bit too close for comfort. 

Ellie exhaled, letting the tension in her shoulders ease. That had gone about as well as she could’ve hoped, a little (expected) pushback, but three out of four pilots being open to try it wasn’t too bad of a ratio. She’d had worse before. 

“Nice job, Rigby.” 

She blinked, glancing up. Hangman was still there, standing a few feet away, hands on his hips, the toothpick sticking out the corner of his mouth, and that ever-present smugness dialed down to something… different.  

Ellie hesitated before she responded. “Thanks,” she said, closing her laptop. “Though I’m sure you’ll find something to critique once you’re in the air.” 

Hangman chuckled, that familiar twinkle in his eyes. “Oh, sweetheart, sounds like you know me better than you think.” But there was something almost appreciative in his expression, something that lingered a beat too long. 

Ellie’s fingers curled around her MacBook, as something unreadable settling in her stomach. 

Then, movement near the door caught her eye, breaking her from the moment. 

Teak. 

He hadn’t left after all. He lingered just outside of the briefing room in the hall, his sharp gaze passing between her and Hangman pointedly, assessing. Ellie wasn’t sure how long he’d been there, but judging by the way his expression flickered—something tight, something almost knowing—he’d seen enough to form some kind of opinion. 

Jake winked at her, clapping a hand on the edge of the podium as he stepped past her, “see you on the tarmac, Rigby.” 

Ellie forced a nod, schooling her expression as Hangman stepped out, his hand grabbing Teak’s shoulder and giving it a shake, “c’mon granddad, I’ll show you how all those buttons work.” 

Teak shook Hangman off, his lips pulled into a tight line as he lingered, just a second longer. Ellie’s eyes met his for a beat, a moment when he held it. Then, just as quickly, he was gone. 

From the control tower’s observation deck, headset on, fingers drumming against her folded arms, Ellie listened the comms chatter. 

From her vantage point, she could see the three jets taxi into position, the Californian sun sitting high in the blue, cloudless sky. It was as perfect a condition as she could have hoped for, at least the weather was cooperating. Around her, the Control Tower hummed with the activity of the staff, coordinating clearance with the ground crew and flight patterns of aircraft already in the air. 

For years she’d imagined standing here, envisioned a time in the future where she’d be watching as her tech did its thing and the numbers started rolling in. Now, actually standing here, her heart beating in her throat, she found herself overrun with the need to fidget, the chew her lip, to bite her thumbnail. 

Down on the runway, she watched as the jets roared to life, sleek bodies glinting in the afternoon light. Rooster, Teak, Lover, and Hangman. All of them sitting in cockpits wired with the most advanced avionics package ever put into a single system. If this worked—if it really worked—it would change everything. On the other hand, if it failed... well it didn’t bear thinking about, not right now at least. Ellie felt her foot tapping out on the tiled floor as her fingers dug into her arms. 

“Alright, gentlemen,” Maverick’s voice crackled over the comms from somewhere in the sky, the feedback from the cockpit scratchy in her ears. “Today’s a simple test. We’re looking for a baseline. The system is going to integrate with your HUDs and onboard AI, feeding you the real-time data and making sure you have everything you need to stay alive. Your job? Fly how you normally would. My job? Try to kill you. Hard deck is 5,000 feet—let’s keep it clean, nothing fancy.” 

“Clean and ‘nothing fancy’ ain’t exactly in my wheelhouse,” Hangman drawled, his accent cutting through the frequency, his voice sounding isolated, in a tin can. Ellie resisted the shiver that rolled up her spine. Though he was hundreds of feet away, a small spot on the runway, his voice in her ears sparked something in her. 

Ellie rolled her eyes, mostly at him, but a little at herself, instead choosing to focus on the screens in front of her, hovering over the shoulders of the techs sitting in front of the radar equipment which beeped dutifully. 

Rooster’s sigh was deep as he cut in over the frequency. “Just try not to break anything before we even get started, Bagman.” 

“No promises, Rooster. No promises.” Ellie could hear the smirk in Jake’s voice. “Lover, you ready to walk your old man through this?”    “I swear to God, Hangman,” Teak shot back, quickly, his comms fizzling to life. “Keep running your mouth—” 

“Easy, easy—” Jake responded without missing a beat, the clicking of toggles being flipped dull in the background behind his voice, “no need to get feisty now, just say the word if you need me to break it down real slow for you.” 

“Knock off the chatter,” Maverick cut in. “Wheels up in thirty seconds.” 

Down on the flight line, the engines surged, afterburners flared, and one by one, the jets launched down the runway, blurs of speed that streaked into the sky like silver bullets. Ellie’s gaze shifted, watching their flight paths on the monitors in front of her, the integrated system humming to life as it started pulling in data, linking each aircraft into the seamless digital web one by one. 

“Telemetry looks good from here,” Ellie spoke into the headset, her eyes took in the data as it began streaming to the screen in front of her. “All systems online and reading normal. How’s it looking up there?” 

Rooster was the first to respond, his familiar voice filling Ellie’s ears. “HUD’s crisp. AI’s already starting to flag heat signatures and terrain. Feels intuitive.” 

Ellie could feel the prickly of excitement before she schooled it back; too soon to start celebrating. 

“Same here,” Lover added, a smooth calmness in place. “Looks good from where I’m sitting. Got anything nice to say, Teak?” 

“System seems a bit chatty. Lots of information to sort through. Feels like it’s thinking for me.” Teak’s voice came through on cue, predictably, less enthusiastic. 

Ellie bit her tongue, she’d make a note to address it later in the debrief. She’d carefully remind Teak that the whole point of the system was to boost and enhance their decision-making, not replace it. As with anything new, it wouldn’t seem natural or easy in the beginning but would benefit them in the long run. Old dogs, new tricks. 

Hangman’s voice came last. “It’s good, I’ll give you that. But let’s see how it handles when I put it through the wringer.” 

Suddenly, a spike of data jumped on Ellie’s screen. Hangman’s jet shot forward, pushing past the planned test parameters before Ellie could yell out a warning over the comms. Outside, Ellie could see his jet as he yanked into a high-G turn, rolling hard, his plane screaming through the sky at an angle that should have stalled out lesser, greener pilots. 

Alarms flared on Ellie’s screen, screamed in her ears, so loud she instinctively lifted the headset off one ear. “Jesus Christ,” she muttered, already flipping through the diagnostics filling her screen, her fingers flying over keys to manually redistribute the generative thinking, fast. 

“Hangman!” Rooster barked, his voice booming over the screaming of her tech in her ear. “You trying to rip your own wings off?” 

“Relax Rooster,” even as Hangman grunted through another high-G cartwheel, strained against the force that pushed him back into the seat, Ellie could hear the playfulness in his tone, “just seeing if this fancy tech can keep up with me. So far, it’s keeping pace.” 

Barely, Ellie thought, her mind scrambling as she worked through the manual controls, pulling the recalibration coding from the back of her mind as her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest. The system was compensating as best it could, shifting power away from instruments and recalibrating to track Hangman’s sharp, unexpected turns and dives, climbs and rolls. It was working—but Ellie could already see stress indicators creeping in, the red signals flickering in the corner of her screen, the warning signs of a catastrophic failure. She hadn’t coded the parameters today for bullshit. If Hangman kept pushing, he might overload the AI’s allocation process before it had the chance to adjust and provide the baseline she was looking for. 

Her tech picked up Maverick on her screen as he joined in. 

Maverick’s jet came in fast from above, dropping out of the sheltered glare of the sun like a streaking missile. Ellie could see the system flag Mav on Hangman’s HUD in an instant, feeding Hangman a collision path before Mav entered weapons range. 

“Bogey incoming,” Ellie heard the AI voice warn in Hangman’s ear, on her end, she could see the system scanning, populating his HUD with information on the unknown aircraft. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Hangman muttered. “Breaking left. You got eyes on him Rooster?” 

He rolled hard to evade, dipping lower into the valley, barreling toward the 5,000-foot Hard Deck, forcing the system to compensate for rapid altitude changes, environmental shifts, and G-force strain all at once. 

Bitching Betty dinged through the cockpit, through Ellie’s headset. Altitude. Altitude. Pull up. Pull up. 

Ellie’s pulse ticked up as the warnings started going off again. 

“Break right, Hangman.” Rooster was in through the comms now, “I’ll get tone if you’re out of the way.” 

“Hangman, ease off,” Ellie cut through on the comms, her voice carefully controlled and calm but firm. She tried her best to keep the panic out of her tone, “You’re overloading the processing core. The AI needs time to redistribute resources, give it half a second to think and do what it’s there to do.”  

“Sounds like a ‘me’ problem.” Hangman was into another roll, breaking right as Rooster’s jet streaked in to assist and Hangman tumbled into another evasive maneuver, Mav hot on his tail. 

“It will be when you lose your radar feed,” Ellie shot back, around her the Control Tower Operators calmly diverted aircraft around the training area. “If you don’t—” 

The screen flickered on Ellie’s end, the system’s red flashing code stuttering, reflecting the same blip on Hangman’s HUD on the top corner of her display. 

A half-second glitch. 

A data delay. 

Not long enough to crash the system—but long enough to be dangerous if this were a live, life or death dogfight. 

In her ear, Hangman cursed under his breath as Mav capitalized on the momentary hiccup, his jet screaming in with impossible speed, locking a missile tone before Hangman could fully react, adjust. 

“That’s tone. Fox Two!” Mav’s voice cut through the comms, calm, collected. 

A simulated missile strike. If this had been real, Hangman would be punching out right now. 

The comms fell silent for a beat before Maverick’s voice came through, even and unreadable. “That’s a splash.” 

Ellie let out a slow breath as the system regulated, the red indicators disappearing from her screen as the system isolated the issue and rerouted, recalibrated. The system had held. Barely—pushed into the red, hanging on by what seemed to be a simple line of code. 

Hangman, to his credit, was quiet for a moment. 

“Well,” Jake began, the huff of exertion from the laundry list of evasive maneuvers and the strain of the resulting G-force on his body, “guess I found the breaking point.” 

Ellie pinched the bridge of her nose, the tips of her fingers turning white, closing her eyes to breathe out a noisy, measured breath. 

“You found it immediately,” Rooster at least had the decency to sound as exasperated as Ellie felt. 

Lover hummed in agreement. “Kinda impressive, Hangman, honestly. You always go around breaking your most expensive toys?” 

Ellie exhaled sharply, evacuating all the air from her lungs before she breathed it in anew. Patience.  She’d need to practice patience or take a vow of silence to keep herself in check. “Hangman, get back into formation. The rest of you, continue the test as planned. And for the love of fucking god, stick to the parameters this time.” 

“Copy that,” Rooster said. 

“Got it, Boss Lady,” Lover added, his voice light. 

Teak, gruff as ever, just muttered, “Knew this was a bad idea.” 

Hangman sighed, pulling his jet back in line. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. For now.” 

Ellie didn’t believe that for a second. 

Ellie pushed open the control tower door with more force than necessary, so hard it swung back against the outer side of the building with a heavy slam as she stepped onto the sunbaked tarmac at a clipped pace. Her boots hit the pavement hard as she strode across the flight line, headset hanging loosely around her neck, her pulse still elevated from the way Hangman had handled the test. 

She’d expected the first test flights to be bumpy. What she hadn’t been expecting was that the bumps might come from Hangman. After his tone in the briefing, Ellie had expected pushback from Teak, had been waiting for him to act out, but Jake? This was just him being a cocky son of a bitch, and she wasn’t about to let it slide. She couldn’t. 

The rest of the test had gone according to plan, but the baseline readings had been skewed because of Hangman’s hadn’t followed instruction. Today had essentially been a wash for anything except for redline readings. 

As she approached the line of jets, she threw her hand up to shield her eyes against the dipping sun, catching the last pilot climbing out of his jet—Rooster. He caught sight of her immediately, his pace shifting, angling himself in her path before she could storm clear across to the hangar and into the locker room and rip into Hangman in front of everyone. 

“Cool it, Rigsy,” Rooster murmured, hands up in a peacekeeping gesture as he tracked backward while Ellie pushed forward. Against his 6’1 frame, Ellie looked small, and the wall of his body blocked her trajectory. “You look like you’re on the warpath.” 

In the reflection of the aviators over his eyes, Ellie could see herself, eyes narrowed. “Move, Bradshaw.” 

Rooster didn’t budge, shifting as Ellie tried to step around him when she realized he wasn’t going to clear the path. “Not until you take a breath, or maybe seven.” 

Ellie let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Oh, trust me, I’ll breathe just fine once I’ve had a word with Seresin.” 

Rooster exhaled through his nose, arms folding across his chest as Ellie stopped abruptly. There was no way he was moving. Fleetingly, Ellie wondered if being stubborn was a requirement for flight school. “Yeah? And what exactly are you planning to say? Because from here, it looks like you’re about to walk in there and lose it in front of the entire locker room.” 

Ellie clenched her jaw. “He went off-script, overloaded the system immediately. Forced it into a failure point before I could even establish a baseline. That’s not testing limits—that’s recklessness. You have to establish the baseline before you—” 

Rooster shook his head. “That’s how he flies. You knew that.” 

“That’s how an asshole flies,” she shot back, a flare of anger, not unlike the flickering lick of a solar flare, rising inside of her. 

Rooster’s lips twitched, almost as if he might laugh, but in a moment, he was composed again, not taking the bait. His hands were on his hips now, helmet tucked neatly under an arm. “Look, I get it. Maybe better than anyone. He’s frustrating. He’s cocky. But he’s also one of the best pilots in the Navy, and trust me, you want him pushing this thing to its breaking point. Better him than someone out there getting shot at when the stakes are high.” 

Ellie’s arms crossed tightly over her chest, the muscles of her jaw working to bite back the words she really wanted to say. It took her a moment, carefully choosing her words before she spoke again. “That’s not what this was about. He didn’t do that for the sake of the test. He did it to prove he could break it. That’s all he cares about—looking good, coming out on top. He doesn’t give a damn about the work that went into this.” 

Rooster studied her for a long moment, his eyebrow quirked high. “That’s a lot of assuming for someone who works with provable theories and data sets for a living.” His jaw ticked as if he was clenching and unclenching. “You don’t know him.” 

“And he doesn’t know me,” Ellie shot back. She wanted to say that Jake didn’t know what it was like for her, he didn’t know how many pieces of her life and her time and her blood, sweat and tears had gone into every fiber of this tech. She wanted to say that he didn’t know why she was doing this. Instead, she shifted her weight and tightened the fold of her arms across her body. She could be stubborn too—it practically ran in her DNA. 

Rooster sighed, shifting his weight. “I guess you’d better get used to being pissed off then, because he’s not going anywhere.” 

Ellie pressed her lips together, her frustration still simmering, but Rooster wasn’t done. “Look,” he said, more measured this time, “I told you before—Hangman will follow if you make it clear who’s in charge. But he’s got to respect you first. And right now? You’re just reacting to him. He pushes; you push back. Wash, rinse, repeat until you both die. He thrives on that. I tried it that way. It doesn’t work.” 

Ellie narrowed her eyes, studying Rooster for a moment, before she rolled her eyes and threw her hands up. “And what exactly do you suggest? That I just let him run the show?” 

Rooster shook his head. “No. I’m saying he’s testing you just as much as he’s testing the system. You want to keep him in check? Show him you can handle him.” 

Ellie’s fingers twitched at her sides. She hated that he had a point, hated even more that Hangman would probably enjoy knowing just how much he was getting under her skin. It took a measured breath and a focused thought with intent to push down the anger into her toes. “How do you suggest I do that?” 

Rooster shifted his weight, as if he were trying to pull something out of his hat. “Maybe start by coming out tonight?”  

Ellie huffed, the sun starting to heat the back of her neck uncomfortably. She didn’t shoot it down right away and so, likely sensing an in, he continued. 

“Hard Deck. Might help your case if the guys see you as something other than what they’re pegging you for now.”

Ellie arched a brow, she didn’t want to engage Rooster right now, she hated that her anger was ebbing away, if only slightly. She hated that there were politics she had to play into to get her tech where it needed to be. “Oh? And what exactly are they pegging me for now?” 

At that, Rooster smiled. Ellie knew Rooster knew her well enough by now to see that her anger was dissolving. “A mysterious, tech-obsessed hard-ass who spends too much time in her office and not enough time pretending to be human. Also, someone trying to make their lives harder.”    Ellie huffed a laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “Great. Love that for me. Is it terminal, doctor?” 

“Not entirely, it’s fixable at this stage,” Rooster teased as she watched his shoulders relax. “Couple rounds at the Hard Deck, let ‘em see you’re not a soulless drone, and suddenly you’re one of us. I’ve seen you with Nic, I know you can be fun, or at least fun-adjacent.” 

She gave him a skeptical look, choosing to ignore the comment about her being fun. “I don’t think drinking beer with you guys is going to make Hangman and Teak be any less of pains in my ass.”    “No, but it might make Teak less of a pain in my ass if he stops thinking you’re some uptight, out-of-touch scientist trying to change the way he flies,” Rooster pointed out. “Might be worth it.”    Ellie exhaled, considering. “What about Hangman?” 

“You mean the way he flies or the way he’s been trying to flirt you into submission since he laid eyes on you?” 

Ellie felt her stomach dip and she took a careful, measured swallow. “Both.” 

“Not sure that’s curable.” Rooster hissed, perfect bedside manner for delivering a terminal prognosis. 

Ellie huffed and set her hands on her hips. She wasn’t the type to care what pilots thought of her—she built tech to save their lives, not to win their approval. But Rooster had a point. If she wanted them to trust her system, they had to trust her first.  “Alright,” she said finally, pushing back from her desk. “One drink. But if any of them start talking about ‘mansplainy’ shit, I’m out.”  Rooster nodded, the grin on his face. “Fair deal.”    Rooster waited for a beat, stepped back and waited another, as if he were testing to see if Ellie might sprint past him on her way to the locker room anyway. When she didn’t move, he offered her a small wave and turned, stalking down the tarmac and peeling parts of his flight gear off as he did so.  

As his figure shrunk, Ellie sighed and rubbed her temples.  Great. Now she had to go pretend to be human. 

a/n: i mean, does ellie even have a mom/dad with wolfman and mav stepping in? not me cackling as i imagine wolfman in an apron making scrambled eggs, terribly. anyone wanna crack that with fanart? haha

if you love this series, reblog, comment, like! chapter 5, the technical ending of this chapter will be up tomorrow!

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[knight-a3]

Heavenbound AU

Masterpost

Vagatha "Vaggie"

I wanted to emphasize Vaggie's moth features. A friend of mine, who is a fan of the show, didn't realize that she was supposed to be a moth. When I showed her my designs, she noticed the moth themes right away. I had to explain that Vaggie was originally a moth, and that it wasn't something I came up with.

More notes under the cut

I know she says her name isn't Vagatha. But... I don't vibe with the sexual connotations. I'm too ace for it. So I'm ignoring that. I came up with a whole complicated justification for her name, but I'll get into that later.

Uniform:

Her main outfit is her hotel uniform. She and Charlie are the only staff members who bother to wear it. Alastor and Husk are never going to, and Niffty simply doesn't care.

Hair and eyes: Her hair has a more obvious moth wing pattern. Her bow is antenna instead. And she has moth fluff on her neck, wrists, and ankles. Which serves as a slight nod to one of her older design. Her short hair is also a nod to it. I never liked the floating X over her face, so I put an eyespot in her hair instead, which is always cut in half by a part. The X is exclusively on her eyepatch instead, which isn't going to be visible most of the time. And she needed a scar to go with it, which also isn't visible most of the time.

Casual:

Basically what she would've been wearing in the pilot. I just wanted to put her in an outfit that shows what she would choose to wear. I wanted to lean into the pastel colors she used to have, but also use purple instead of pink, since she seems to be associated with purple for some reason.

Battle Outfit and Wings:

I wanted her restored wings to be moth wings, rather than typical angel wings. After she regains her wings, her hair can turn into them. It leaves her with short hair, partly so I didn't have to worry about hair and wings at the same time. I primarily based her on the Condalia Silk Moth. I wanted to simplify her battle outfit slightly. I stuck with colors that were already in her palette, instead of choosing anything new. For simplicity.

Exorcist Angel:

Because I wanted the angels in general to look more human, I had to apply it to the exorcists too. Not that there was much alteration needed. But I needed a sense of consistency. I didn't like the look of the exorcists in canon. They looked too demonic with their outfits, and it didn't vibe with their self-righteous attitudes. So I chose a crusader theme instead. It felt more appropriate. The wings can "turn on and off" at will. Vaggie did it in canon after getting her wings back, so I don't see why the same can't apply to other angels. I designed the halo in a very specific way, which I'll probably get into on it's own post. It ties into how I'm reimagining the angelic hierarchy.

I think the canon lore is that the exorcists were created and named by Adam. But I don't vibe with it. I'm thinking that they were humans that either died doing something noble, or had a particular desire to fight against depravity. Consequently, they won't all be female anymore.

Human:

I wanted to base her outfit on an earlier design, and this is loosely based on a couple of her pilot design's alternate outfits. It also gives me some slightly Colombian vibes. Her hair shape is inspired by the shape of her hair in the show. Vaggie as a human name just wouldn't work. So I came up with some convoluted explanation as to why her name would evolve the way it did.

Regina "Gina" Agatha Valdez. Daughter of a Salvadorian immigrant. She wasn't interested in men, so bullies would call her "Virginia." It was a play on her name. Gina was her nickname, and placing her last initial in front would make it V. Gina. The more crass bullies called her the obvious. She died saving a child, but I haven't thought of specifics. Afterwards, she was recruited into the exorcist army. She fell because she spared a child-looking demon(probably wasn't actually a child, tbh). Once she fell, she became a demon, and her appearance changed to reflect it. She may be a fallen angel, but she's not technically an angel anymore. She's a sinner like the rest. Even if her sin wasn't really a sin. Lute cursed her to it. She didn't want to go by her old name anymore, so she went by her middle name, with her last initial in front. V. Agatha. Vagatha.

Some of the designs, besides canon, that I referenced:

(Jan 18, 2025- Changed ethnicity from Columbian to Salvadorian, that was a simple mixup on my part.)