#o-level instructor

[rivendell-poet]

Hihi! Can I please have headcanons with the fellowship and Thorin's company having a short (like 5 feet) human s/o. And they be part of the fellowship/company, please? Please take as much time as you need!💕

Hi! Thank you so much for your request, and I'm so sorry it took so long. Also, thank you so much for the last part - it's small but means a lot 💕 (should be doing one for Thorin's company as well)

*･༓˚✧❝𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫❞‧͙⁺˚༓˚✧ « headcanons »

○ Aragorn ○ Legolas ○ Gimli ○ Boromir ○ Pippin ○ Merry ○ Sam ○ Frodo ○

GN!Reader | No TWs | Can be read as platonic or romantic | Wordcount : 1.7k

𝐀𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐫𝐧

✧ He’s the person you have the largest height difference with. Because he’s weirdly tall. 

✧ When the two of you stand next to each other Pippin will sometimes stare. He’s confident that one of you isn’t truly human. Who that is depends on the day.

✧ Aragorn isn’t really bothered by it, cares more about if you can handle yourself on the battlefield.

✧ Does make sure that you have the weapons you need constantly.

✧ Knows it’s probably difficult to find the right sized ones, so after a battle he can be found sharpening yours (generally while humming something).

✧ Has forgotten about the height difference once when you were cold and he gave you his cloak.

✧ Tried very hard not to laugh when you become completely swamped in the fabric and almost fall over.

✧ (He mainly succeeds.)

✧ Will fetch anything you need off the high shelves, and always puts it back on the lower shelves.

𝐋𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐬

✧ Closest of the ‘big people’ in terms of height difference. Not that that means much, because he’s still six feet.

✧ Is constantly asking you to describe the flowers you find. If they’re at a stage he finds it ok, will ask you to pick them up and hand it to him.

✧ Always tells you to ‘watch your head’ whenever he goes through a hallway he has to duck under. Has yet to correct himself on doing this.

✧ Treats your height a lot like he does Gimli’s, except he gets used to you slightly quicker.

✧ If you have not packed a bow he is very sad you can’t do archery together.

✧ Scours places for bows of your size with a slightly worrying intensity.

✧ Eventually, after the war is over, he commissions you one. It’s very beautiful, with dark wood and a gold leaf inlay of the different places you’ve been and enemies you’ve fought.

✧ Is actually a very good archery instructor, treats you how he would the others and it works out.

✧ Will fetch you anything from the high shelves, you just have to ask him first.

𝐆𝐢𝐦𝐥𝐢

✧ Closest in height to you. Is very relieved to find someone else of a normal height when surrounded by everyone else.

✧ You’re taller than he was, but he doesn’t care. Just happy that even though you’re taller than him you’re still almost on the same eye-level.

✧ Is very smug to the others that his weapon is around the same height as you - so the easiest to pick up. And with the best tutor.

✧ Does try to teach you how to use the axe, in some ways is a very good teacher but not all the time. Good offensively, lacking some defensive manoeuvres.

✧ Tries hard to learn your fighting style if you offer to teach him.

✧ Always insists you get first pick of everything when the Fellowship find items that can fit the two of you.

✧ When running across the plains the both of you blame the other one for being the slowest. Both of you also claim to be the better sprinter, neither of you have intentions of proving this claim.

✧ Would happily get you something from the high shelf if he could reach it. Has tried to convince you to climb up via him to get something instead of asking for help.

𝐁𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐫

✧ Along with Aragorn, he also doesn’t make a very big deal of it. You were trusted to be in the Fellowship, what else matters?

✧ You like to sometimes pretend you can’t see the height difference between Aragorn and Boromir and insist Boromir is the taller one. Both men know you’re probably faking, but neither correct you (for different reasons).

✧ Asks you for help to teach the hobbits how to spar, for example if a certain move he wants to teach them would be too risky - and what your advice is.

✧ Has supervised matches between you, Merry, and Pippin before. To your surprise he actually gives genuine, entirely unbiased feedback to all of you.

✧ Small part of him is amused by the fact his shield covers most of you. Would never say that out loud.

✧ (Boromir also finds it comforting, because it just means that it will be easier to protect you.)

✧ Very occasionally sketches out shield designs for you, if he has a lot of free time with most others being asleep. Writes the symbolism behind them in the margins.

✧ Will happily fetch you things from the high shelf. Puts them back onto the same high shelf out of instinct, then realises what he’s done and puts them onto a lower one you can reach.

𝐏𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧

✧ Believes (lies to himself) that one day he may be as tall as you.

✧ Therefore constantly asks about how different life is when you’re as tall as you are (at the start of the Fellowship) despite the fact you’re only a foot and a bit above him.

✧ He insists that being your height will solve a lot of the problems he has in life. Merry says it’s better to just humour him.

✧ Has asked for piggy-back rides from you a few times. When you finally agree his eyes light up, there is pure joy as he sees the world from your perspective.

✧ After the entdraught one of his first thoughts is of you.

✧ Pippin wants to be taller than you. When he sees you again he runs straight into you, pulling you into a hug and then seeing if he has to look up to meet your height.

✧ Is crushed when he realises you’re still taller than him. Although he is around 4’8” now - so there’s much less of a height difference.

✧ Can finally reach the same shelves you can, and gives you the items from them even if you were just getting them.

✧ Has tried to climb up a shelving unit before to get to the top shelves. It ended as well as you think it did.

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲

✧ Very surprised by your height, but also very enthusiastic. Didn’t think he’d ever be able to have conversation with a big folk without them constantly looming over him.

✧ Finally has someone other than Pippin he can show the little alcoves to, and then can spend time with them there.

✧ Every so often he’ll underestimate your height and you won’t be able to fit in - he’s always very apologetic when this happens.

✧ Only person who offers his cloak, and it’s actually a reasonable size for you. Slightly short but better than the other options, so you gladly take it.

✧ The thought of him being taller than you after taking the entdraught doesn’t even occur until he sees you again. Keeps his intentions fairly well hidden.

✧ Does the same thing he did with Pippin - ‘subtly’ measuring your height with his hand. Vehemently denies everything if caught doing it.

✧ Asks you about your tailors and if you own any patterns once he’s nearer your height. For the first few months you can see a lot of your stylistic choices find their way into Merry’s wardrobe.

✧ Would fetch you things from the high shelf if he could. Alas, he cannot - and he also values his dignity enough to not try and climb them.

✧ (Has secretly climbed them once with Pippin. The reason he doesn’t do it again is because he knows it will fail.)

𝐒𝐚𝐦

✧ Still thinks you're tall enough for the height difference to be slightly intimidating. He isn’t scared of you, it just comes from the tallest person he knew before you being around four feet.

✧ Other than that he treats you as he would everyone else, most respectfully and always looking out for your best interests.

✧ You are the person he goes too instinctively if he needs someone slightly taller than himself. Is always very apologetic about it, and promises to make it up to you.

✧ Generally makes it up to you by giving you one of the best portions of whatever he’s cooked for the night. Often with ingredients you managed to find for him.

✧ Also searches places to see if they’ll have weapons of the correct size for you.

✧ Is just as good as the people actually trained in combat, although it’s because he’s closer to your height - not because of his martial prowess.

✧ After the cave troll fight you’re the one he goes too, shyly asking if you’ll give him a few lessons.

✧ Sam is a very diligent student, and always gives you a bright smile every time. Thanking you for letting him protect Mr. Frodo that bit better.

✧ Unfortunately, he needs you to get him things from the ‘high shelves’ - but he would certainly help you if he could.

𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐨

��� Subtle and polite look of amazement the first time he sees you, internally checking your height compared to his.

✧ He is somewhat sad that you’re just too tall to appreciate a lot of his walking sticks. Does find one or two in Bilbo’s collection that could be given to you.

✧ Always touched whenever you find him a ‘walking stick’ esque branch, although it’s sometimes slightly too tall for him.

✧ Often points out flowers and other beautiful things to you and Sam, because you’ll have the best view of it.

✧ After Aragorn, you’re his go-too person to hide behind and ask for protection. He feels bad about it the first few times, but you’re always there to reassure him.

✧ You and Aragorn have both moved in front of Frodo for protection at the same time. Always a moment of awkward silence and then shuffling into a decent position for the both of you.

✧ When seeing you, Pippin, and Merry all laughing together - one of them reaching out and ruffling your hair - he is somewhat envious about them now being around your height.

✧ However, he’s also grateful that he’s kept the same height. So Frodo isn’t too sad about it.

✧ Would fetch you things from the high shelves, although in reality you need to fetch things for him.

A/N : Hopefully you enjoyed, not entirely sure why this one turned out so platonic. But I am making one for thorin's company and I'll try make that one more obviously romantic. Thanks so much for reading and requesting!

thank you for reading *･༓˚✧ Taglist : @celestialhole / @starwars2222 / @xiaoseminence / @withasideofmeg / @nilintakan / @ferns-fics / @fleurdemiel-145 / @chewgazellechew / @recordofragnarokfan2 ✧ wish to be tagged?

[torchflies]

Okay guys, I'm still drowning at work but here’s something good that's been keeping my head above water 🤣: retired rockstar Tom “Iceman” Kazansky. 

Ice is born to a pair of early hippies in VW Kombi bus painted with all the colors of the rainbow. He gets his first modeling gig after he's scouted at a Janis Joplin show on his Daddy’s shoulders, before or after Big Brother and the Holding Company. 

Anyway, fact is that baby Ice ends up with his face plastered all over everything from Camels ads to diapers. He eventually ends up doing commercials and then bit parts on TV shows and movies. He does Disney for a good long while, with Bobby Driscoll levels of success. But by the time the mid-70s roll around — teenage Ice is the frontman of a heavier crossed with glam rock sorta band: think Def Leppard, Kiss or even Mötley Crüe (way before their time on the Sunset Strip). 

Ice can sing just about anything the band needs him to — think Adam Lambert's levels of range, just straight-up incredible. He's tatted up from dick to tits and has tried just about every drug known to man by the time he's nineteen, starved himself for years, and spends every hour of his life pandering to people who don't give a shit about him.

At twenty-two he realizes that he doesn't even like himself anymore. He doesn't know who he is without being Kairo Jett (his stage name). 

Then, his friends start dying. 

It’s 1981, and sure they were occasionally dying before — booze, drugs or taking their own lives — but now they're all dying of something that doesn't have a name and he's terrified. 

So, he quits and runs away to a life of structure that he's never had. He runs to the USNA, dyes his hair bleach blond, stops wearing heavy makeup, starts eating again and just becomes Thomas Kazansky — then the Iceman, a new kind of stage name.

The Iceman, who has shared the stage with all the greats of rock music, watches Maverick serenade their instructor in the O Club with one of his old songs and has never been more enamored with anyone in his whole life. 

He falls ass over tea kettle the minute Maverick asks him if he's ever heard of the band Tommy Eats the Drum Kit.

Ice doesn't stop laughing for hours. 

[spookypete-94]

O-

GhostxFem!medic!reader

Reader is a medic that has been assigned to specifically take care of TF141. She learns just how difficult the lieutenant can be.

SFW, CW for- language, more then likely medical inaccuracies

You had worked next to Price shortly a few years after he started. Your impressive skill level always imprinted on him. After he became the Captain, he had sought you out specifically. The risks of the missions he was on he wanted someone he could trust on standby to take care of him and his men if something were to happen. Sure, you knew your way on the battlefield and could do basic operations if needed, but your area of expertise was caring for the injured. It was almost like you were hardwired and made for it, a natural.

Once learning Price had requested you, sought you for so long- it was a no-brainer to join him and his team.

"Ready to meet everyone?" He asked, his voice quiet but still carrying a booming effect.

"Sure am," she you replied, crossing your arms as he led her to his office. Inside stood 3 men. One that wore a blue hat in casual attire, the second one with bright blue eyes and a mohawk, and the other was a large looming man that leaned against the desk face covered with a skull balaclava, dressed all in black.

"Would like you all to meet the team medic, this is Y/N L/N. I sought her specifically for us."

Y/N stuck her hand out to greet everyone, shaking the first two, easily learning their names as Gaz and Soap. The third one, however, did not step forward to shake her hand. One could feel the distrust from his gaze.

Fine, You thought to yourself and instead stood next to the Captain again.

Price explained your duties and how you would be attending missions with them on scene, in your own helicopter, and would respond as needed.

"If I could have dog tags, just to have full name and blood type, I'd appreciate it. Makes it easier for me to log and store blood if needed."

Again, the first two she met and Price complied, handing their dog tags over with ease. The large one never left his stance from the desk, arms crossed, hands never reaching into his shirt.

"Lieutenant," Price said just shy of a scolding manner.

"No worries, Captain, I'll manage." you said, waving it off. Honestly, far from offended, dealing with difficult men your entire career, becoming used to it. Price looked at you, shocked, wondering how you would "deal" with it. Scribbling the information down, your own chicken scratch looking difficult to anyone else who might read it before handing the tags back. "Thanks," you said cheerily, handing the tags back. "Lieutenant," nodding in his direction still being courteous to him. "I'll be in the MedBay updating my records and starting carts for all of your needs. Hope you all have a pleasant day." Nodding, and stepped through the group of men.

Once the door was shut, they all turned to Ghost appalled by his behavior to such a kind woman. "Why ya' gotta be like that, mate?" Soap asked him.

"Don't trust new people," he grumbled, leaving them all to shake their heads.

Time had passed, you had her records all updated and built trust with three of the group she cared for. Not quite with "Skullface" though, as you called him. Being on the team with the TF141, means you still had to qualify on all weapons... leaving you at the mercy of the range with the grumpy Lieutenant as he was the instructor.

His tone came across condescending at the very start. The first weapon he picked was a handgun. He showed how to load and reload the mags, how to place it in the bottom of the guns and forcefully shove up to make sure the mags don't fall out. How to use the iron sights and the difference between red dots, the difference between calibers - things already known by you but dared not say anything wanting to make a point. He handed back the pistol, taking aim, and shortly emptied the clip, hitting the metal target in the center. The ping echoed, target shaking with each bullet. Managing tactical reload, dropping the mag, pulling the full one from your belt, reloading it, and doing the same thing.

"You know how to use a gun?" he asked stunned.

"I do."

"You could have led with that."

"Didn't want to interrupt your whole "spiel, "seeming it's the most you've said to me the entire time I've been here."

Behind him, Price stood smiling, arms crossed as he stood at the front of the range. Game, set, match, he thought to himself comically.

"Can we do shotgun next, or are you gonna break the basics down for me on that, too?" Your tone playing coy, making Ghost shake his head, handing her the shotgun.

The day was over faster than Ghost expected it to be, thinking you would be inexperienced.

"I'm sorry I treated you like that," Ghost said humbly as they picked up the empties.

"Used to it."

This answer caused silence among them both. You took it upon yourself that he was waiting for you to answer why.

"Most men in this field just see me as a nurse. They seem to forget that Medic's have to be battle trained, too. Used to being treated like that."

He turned to look at you. "Shouldn't be a medic, you're better than most of the soldiers I've seen in the field."

"All be it surprised, I'm a better medic, then I am on the battlefield."

"Have to be one hell of a medic then."

"I am." you said confidently, throwing the expended bullet casings into a bucket to be repressed.

How grateful you were, that it ended on a positive note between the two this time.

"Here," he said, going to hand her his dog tags.

"Don't need them any more."

Even though his face was covered, you could tell he was confused by your response.

"Got it taken care of." smiling widely to him, throwing your assigned weapons over your shoulder and heading back to the base.

You had left him preplexed and him watching that smile never leave as your legs carried you away. Satisfaction filling you, knowing you made your mark on him.

"Fuckin' hell," he said quietly to himself.

Inevitably, the day came. Ghost had found himself and Soap injured, Ghost was losing blood rapidly, taking the grunt of whatever exploded. They requested evac but had to wait for an extraction team to get to him. His conscious status was in and out, vaguely remembering you and your squad getting to him and Soap. Your facial features make you seem like you were is glowing, the light being so bright. If he had not seen your ability to be deadly, he would have thought an angel was standing before him from the golden glow.

The next thing he knew, he was on the helicopter, finally coming to. He started to sit up quickly, the sudden alertness making him realize what had just happened

"Sit your ass still," you growled to him.

Even as a threat, your voice calmed him, making him indeed sit still.

"Where's Johnny?"

"Next to you, across the bird behind the curtain, my team got him stitched and wrapped up. Hold still," You said, pulling his arm back to her. He realized you were stitching him, hand holding his arm close. Noticing the IV for fluid and another for blood attached into his other arm. There, he saw a rolling cart with "Skullface" wrote on the top where his name should have been, bags of O- blood inside it.

"My blood type isn't O-," he said, head rolling over to look at her.

"Mine is. It's the universal donor."

Finally, he realized what you meant.

"That's your blood?"

"Yup, been pulling mine off for your cart in case something happened since you wouldn't give me your tags that day."

He was silent for a bit. That was her way of managing... using your own blood to save him. "I'm sorry I was such an asshole to you."

"Stop. You already apologized. Just be grateful I did what I did and didn't leave you to bleed out." Some men just needed tough love.

Somehow, you had struck him. He was seeing you in a different light once more. How grateful he was for his mask because if it wasn't there.. you would be able to read his face. Adoration and all. He leaned back into the pillow, letting you finish and look him over. Fingers ghosted across his skin as you moved his body to be able to check for whatever it was you were looking for. No resistance was given by him now. You had earned just more than his respect and trust. Just on the ride back to base, you already had him stitched up.

"Still will have to do scans to make sure there is no internal bleeding, but have to do that back at base. I'm glad you're still alive." you said, patting his thigh in an area that you knew was not injured.

"Fuckin' hell," a phrase he found saying all too much with you. Eyes watching your walk away and prepare for landing.

Soap pulled back his curtain, smiling mischievously at Ghost.

"Not a fuckin' word," he grumbled to him, knowing all to well that Soap knew that Ghost had caught feelings for hyou.

Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist

[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | vol iv ]

happy january friends! :D

there have been a crazy number of wonderful fics that I have had time to catch up on this month, and I've saved a few for next month's rec as well!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

this turned out to be a bit of a long one! I hope everyone has had a wonderful start to the new year so far, and happy reading y'all! <3

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it's a kind of magic | Jaistiel | E | 82k

Henry, the man who had asked if Alex's magic hurt him before asking if he used it for evil things. Henry, the man who seemed terrified of his magic, but also held a level of awe and wonder about it. Henry, the man who was likely scared out of his mind to share a tent with someone capable of the things Alex could do, but was offering anyway. "Alex." He watched as Henry's eyes widened with shock, his jaw dropping open just enough for his full lips to form a small, perfect 'o' shape. "If you're asking me to share your tent and your blankets, I guess you should at least know my name."

+

you can see it with the lights out | weathersriley | G | 3k

"Alex thinks of the water. Of feeling like he might never reach the surface, might never reach Henry. But Henry is here; Alex remembers falling asleep in the glow of his presence, and beneath his shaking fingers, Henry’s chest is warm and his heart is beating steadily and Henry is here. Alex is afraid, but Henry is here."

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Dream A Little Dream Of Me | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 9k

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” [Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)]

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if I do not have (your) love, I am nothing | @read-and-write- | M | 9k

The church says that sin keeps you away from God. Your disobedience is to remain hidden and only admitted during confession. The greater the sin, the greater your penance should be, and God, as the loving God he is, will forgive you. Because God is love, and he’s the greatest expression of it. Love thy neighbor is the greatest mandate of all. Yet, when Alex loves, his love is seen as perverse, impure. The greatest sin he has committed was to fall in love with another man, who has lain by his side during countless nights. But when Alex looks at Henry, he finds nothing reprehensible, nothing unclean. Instead, he finds the truest form of worship held between his arms, trailing fingertips that climb up Henry’s spine as a litany of words spill out from his mouth. A room consecrated by each whisper of God’s name, said so reverently that no one would dare say they have taken His name in vain. [A character study of Alex, religion, divinity and love.]

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sea of endless hope | acastle | E | 65k+

Henry watches Alex, the man he adores and loves so ardently, and the moment is palpable, delicate, and yet too large for even the sky to contain. He watches Alex, and in that moment, he wants to be his husband, the ache and urge of it almost unbearable. “Daddy!” Nena takes Henry’s hands, and he looks down at her, the angel who had saved him, and he smiles at her, quiet with emotion, letting her lead him into place. He would follow her, follow Alex, anywhere. (Henry, Alex, and their daughter, and the first years of coming home, forever.)

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I wake up with your memory over me (and that's a real fucking legacy) | @coffeecatsme | E | 21k

The ski instructor stops in front of him, takes off his goggles, and Henry about stops breathing for another reason. “Hey,” Alexander says with a grin, his face distinctly lacking in wrinkles Henry was expecting from a renowned instructor. There’s a bright grin on his face that rivals the sun, rich brown curls spilling out of a red beanie, and Henry realizes he’s absolutely fucked for a whole other reason than his inability to figure out how to stay upright in skis.  [Or, the one in which Henry is hopeless at skiing despite his family's aspirations, and Mary hires Alex as an instructor to amend that.]

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Praise and Supplication | @nocoastposts | E | 3k

Alex is always moving, always going, always seeking. He is defiance and brashness tinged with anxiety, but not in these moments. Henry pins him down with a gaze as heavy as his touch, and all of Alex’s motions cease. He is calm, he is obedient, he is pliable. He knows he’ll be broken apart piece by piece, sending waves of heat deep into his core. [When Alex gets stuck in his head, Henry helps him let go.]

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Henry’s eyes widen, his body tensing up in sheer humiliation. That’s when he sees a sly smirk make its way to the man’s lips, and it only makes the embarrassment course through his body more rapidly, feeling all the blood rush to his cheeks. The man then spins around in his office chair, reaching for what looks to be a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbles on it for a swift moment before pressing the paper up against his office window. The paper reads, “TAKE A PIC,” written in sloppy, bubble-like handwriting just barely legible enough for Henry to read. The man grabs another paper and writes for a moment longer, this time reading, “JK” with a winky face. Henry cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction, the embarrassment slowly morphing into curiosity as the man turns the paper over for Henry to read the other side. “ALEX.” [An AU in which two men fall in love through their office windows]

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Henry clears his throat and answers again. “I’m a bit nervous. About the needles.” “Thank you for telling me,” Alex says, voice dipping low. Henry wouldn’t move from his spot on the couch if the apartment was on fire. “People aren’t afraid of the needle. They’re afraid of the pain. But you’re not scared of that, right?” [Henry decides to get a tattoo. It comes with more than one kind of aftercare.]

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The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” [Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.]

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Knowing me, knowing you | phlebotinxm | E | 8k

It wasn’t like the thought crept up on him by surprise. It had come in waves, like white salty water spread upon the shore and leaving little bits of foam and dust for people to see, like an idea Henry couldn’t quite shake that seemed to bleed into every era of their lives. It stayed at the back of his mind as he got up in the morning, and pulsed against his temple when he fell asleep. [In which, upon discovering something he’d never imagined about his father, Henry realizes that he is ready to take the next big step in his and Alex’s relationship.]

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All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers | @kiwiana-writes | E | 5k

“That floor doesn’t look like it’s very comfortable on your knees, is all.” Henry leans forward, scooping out a piece of brownie that got under the counter, somehow. “I wouldn’t worry about that—my knees are quite used to it, I assure you.” A ringing silence follows this pronouncement, during which Henry focuses very hard on opening a trap door directly into hell with the power of his mind. [Or, five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.]

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The Consequences (Of Our Actions) series | @anchoredarchangel | E | 78k+

"I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.” Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-” “My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah." [Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.]

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Burnt Offering | justice fortheJ14magazine | G | 9k

He just needs to get through washing his hair. Simple. Except washing his hair has never been simple. It’s the polar opposite, actually. The more he thinks about the task set out in front of him, the more daunting and impossible it feels. His limbs feel like lead and the weight of the hot water pouring over him makes his head buzz. But Alex can do this. He’s done it before. A shower after a long lacrosse game or that one time he had the flu and had to stop three times to sit under the water and collect himself. He can handle a little finals week exhaustion. He has to. [Or, Alex’s hair care routine is elaborate, he struggles to let Henry help him, and he learns some important things about receiving love through service.]

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Ho for the Holidays | @whimsymanaged | E | 6k

“Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“ “Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?” Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.” Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?” [Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.]

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see you all soon! :D

sarah / anincompletelist xx

[satoruzlove]

hello! i recently found your account and i love every bits of stories you write! can i request something like atsumu, sakusa, and suna having an underground garage with over 12 cars or more? and their s/o jokingly claims that they love them only because of their money and cars? lol idk, you can decide about the other details. i would just love to read something like this. i hope you understand my messy and clumsy imagination :' )

i hope you have a good day/night! merry christmas also! 🥰❤️‍🔥

-🫧

I LITERALLY SAW THIS AND DIIIIEEED ANON CUS I RLY LIKE THIS IDEA, and THANK U MWAAAH IM SO GLAD U LIKE MY WRITING <333 HUGS & SUGAR COOKIES 4 U. i’m sorry about how fawking late this is & i rly hope u do like this- it took me a whole while to rly grasp what i wanted to do with this glorious prompt, i wrote a lot these past few days BUT WHATEVER HERE U ARE MY WONDERFUL BUBBLE ANON ( cute af choice btw)

LET ME RIDE ?

[k. sakusa , r. suna , a. miya ]

- suggestive at some parts , boys with cars, praising and touchiness ( kiyoomi ) , alcohol and FLIRTINGGG ( atsumu’s ), friends to lovers & lots of tension ( rintarou ) , also kiyoomi is called a sugar daddyLMAO but he isn’t i swear -

KIYOOMI SAKUSA ::

your boyfriend is meticulous in every aspect of his life. his looks, his health, his belongings- everything. from the way he keeps his clothing folded to how he cares for his multiple expensive , beautiful race cars. as a pro athlete it’s expected of him to have such things , but you’d never expect to see how he handles them with such care - almost as if they were people. he gets them serviced and checked every other month, and polishes the luxurious leather of the seats frequently. when you two were dating, he often picked you up from work in different cars each time - claiming to want to make you look like you were some kind of vip. although, whenever you requested to drive one of them, he’d give you a look. it’s not that he didn’t trust you, he just knew that you couldn’t drive for shit and there’s no way he letting you do trial and error on his multi million dollar mobile.

that’s how you got here ; standing beside him as he folds away some of his summer clothes and practically begging him to let you drive one of his babies. “i’ll even let you tell me how to drive, kiyo, you can be my instructor,” you whine softly. he muttered a ‘nope’ popping the ‘p’ to emphasise his adamancy on the topic. you tugged his shirt sleeve, nearly forcing his dark eyes onto you- before he even knew it, he was convinced. the thick lashes surrounding the swimming, sparkly pool of your irises bored up at him only interrupted momentarily by you blinking.kiyoomi’s eyebrows crunched , mimicking the way his heart squeezed in his chest, despite knowing you just wanted to use his car. he let out a loud, dramatic sigh before running a hand over his face. “fine, you can use one. i will be there, i will tell you what to do and i definitely will stop you if you screw up,okay?” your boyfriend bossed. you smiled up at him, “nono! you can just teach me yourself, i’ll pretend i don’t even have my license,” and when you saw the bored look on his face you added to your statement,” to y’know, ease your mind.”

kiyoomi poked his cheek with his tongue , only to stop a smile from forming on his face. “go get dressed into like,” he paused for a second, his tone questioning when he continued, “..driving clothes..?” and you laughed at that. happily you got dressed and headed to the lowest level of your two story house- the underground.as the sleek metal doors opened, multiple shiny, elegant cars came into view but kiyoomi made a beeline for one in particular. she was black, a two seater that had neon green highlights on her gorgeous sides. “ porshe 2022 911 gt3,” he muttered, slender fingers lightly brushing over the glossy hood. you gawk for a second, “ i have no idea what that is, but holy shit,” you mutter. he huffs a laugh before unlocking the machine.

you hop into the drivers seat, and kiyoomi stares you down. you nearly choke under his gaze , “ don’t tell me you changed your mind,” you challenge him. he laughs- heartily almost- until a smirk overcomes his pretty face. “ you said i could teach you, didn’t you? get up. you’re gonna be on my lap.” his tone is smooth, weight panging in your tummy as you process what he said. your hands hesitantly slide off the steering wheel, allowing him to get in. he adjusts his weight with his hips, hands resting on his upper thighs until he pats them. “ come,” he says, “ sit , we don’t have all day.”

you oblige, your own thighs caged by his as his hands find home on yours. he’s guiding them to the wheel, you observe. “ i’ll worry about clutch, acceleration and breaks. you just steer and change gears for me , okay?” you notice his tone is soft, gentle because of how close he is to your ear. his breath hovers right over the shell of your ear. you nod, and he turns the key in the ignition. little lights and buttons exert an array of colour- almost tempting you to press them. he revs the engine - a low, prolonged echo ringing throughout the underground garage and vibrating your intertwined forms. you close your eyes and soon you come to understand just why your boyfriend loves his cars.

“you know,” you mutter, head dropping onto his shoulder, “‘might steal this thing and flee the fuckin’ country. it feels so-,”,” freeing, huh?” he practically steals the words from your mouth. you nod, smiling breathlessly, “ exactly,” before continuing ,” maybe you being away so much isn’t that bad , considering how my friends think you’re my sugar daddy,” and your boyfriend scoffs. a thick, black brow raised,” atsumu was right, you really do want me for my money.” kiyoomi chuckles, earning another giggle from you. dreamily , you sigh, “ absolutely, you’re my lovely little sugar daddy,” kiyoomi’s body shakes with laughter and his dimples cave in- you swear you get butterflies every time they do.the warm up light on the car goes off and from that point , the drive was smooth sailing.

you didn’t go far , seeing as your house was quite far from anything else , you had a lot of room. you drove mainly around your area. you two had come to a park, very secluded and probably privately owned, and you parallel parked. kiyoomi’s lowered his head , muttering a ,” you’re really good at this, dunno why i was so worried. even i struggle to parallel park sometimes,” he admits shyly. you smile, but you don’t miss the way he gazes at you as your eyes train on the park just outside the window. as soon as your head turns, you’re met with kiyoomi. his lips on yours. your lover’s hand is on the back of your head- guiding you like he was as you drove- and his latter hand on your waist. for a moment he broke away, nose smushing against yours. “did so good for me today,” he muttered against you. you had no time to reply or even be surprised at his remark, as he dove in for another kiss. this one was hungrier, more passionate and less shy than before. of course, you followed the pace happily.

his lips left yours with a deep exhale , “ move to the passenger seat,” he instructed, “‘ wanna get us home real fast, gonna continue this in a more comfortable setting, yeah?” and as you moved, tumbling over the gear stick and quickly plopping yourself onto said seat, “gonna take my time with you, yn.” you heard from kiyoomi as he revved the car once more. you were definitely in for a ride.

SUNA RINTAROU ::

suna rintarou is your best friend. you’ve known eachother since child hood and have gone through absolute hell together. puberty, your first crushes, the trauma’s of young adulthood, dealing with the miya twins. you started liking him in middle school, only ever telling aran about it and swearing him to secrecy. you couldn’t tell if suna liked you, you knew that if he did feel the same he’d never tell you, because that’s how he was. any person he’s ever entertained had the same complaint , that he didn’t know how to express his feelings properly and they couldn’t take how badly he blows at communicating.

you don’t understand, and you could never ; because he knows how to communicate with you. you two have an inexplainable bond- and he doesn’t feel the suffocating, degrading feeling in his chest when he talks to you about how he feels. he trusts you with everything. he always has, he has no trouble telling you.

he trusts you with everything, except his cars. all 11 of them.

which is why you slapped his arm when he showed you his underground garage , claiming to ‘ wanna show you something really, really cool ’ he wasn’t lying. his black t shirt seemed to look godly under the stage lights of his garage, as he strolled next to you- taking in his collection and carefully watching your pupils blow in awe. “ you’re such a dick, rin,” you laugh, “ i can’t believe you kept this from me, knowing damn well i’d give my left tit to drive one of these” he snorts, head throwing back and eyes scrunching at your choice of words. he comes to a halt infront of a shimmery, matt- finished car. you eyes drag over the hood, the cat- like head lights and your eyes scrunch up in delight at the ‘ mommy’s boy’ sticker barely in sight. “ it’s a-“,” mclaren, 765lt right ?”

his moss green eyes betray the stoic look on his face. they widen, sparkling in amusement. “ i always forget that you have no friends and read all day,” he feigns a sugary sweet tone. you shove him by the hip, toddling over to the passenger seat. “stop being an ass and take me for a drive.” you sigh. rin tries to ignore how right it feels to have you in his passenger seat , the way his mind quickly flicks images of you two going out at odd hours for icecream, his hand in a wedding ring- your wedding ring- on the gear stick. “ rintarou, come back to earth!” you bark laughter, now infront of him. his eyes screw shut and widen, he hadn’t even realised that he zoned out. he’s looking down at you, eyebrows raised as he attempts to ease out of his daze.

“stop being so bossy, you little tree stump,” he mumbles, making his way to the driver’s side door. it slides open smoothly, and he practically jumps inside. as you do the same, a smell- his smell- envelopes you. old spice and a tinge of something sweet. you both reach for the radio at the same time, and as his hand makes contact with yours he nearly jumps away as if your hands were a burning hot coal. he clears his throat, starting the car and ignoring the furious flutter i the pit of his stomach. you connect your phone, skipping through your playlist. you finally choose a song, and rintarou swears he could fall over and giggle like a little girl at your choice.

“love you like a brother, treat you like a friend,

respect you like a lover, oh,oh,oh”

your best friend’s eyes flit over to yours, only for him to spot you lip syncing the words of the song. as he pulls out the drive way he imagines you- calling him your lover, holding him, kissing him, being his. he smiles softly when you turn to him, lip syncing the words with conviction. “ if you be the cash, i’ll be the rubber band,” you mumble along with the song, hands coming out to poke him to punctuate your words. he mirrors you, eyebrows lifting as he sings.”painter baby you could be the muse, im the reporter baby-,” you two look at eachother in unison, your hands finding his cheeks,” you could be the news,” and for a moment, he doesn’t realise that you’re holding him so sweetly.

when the chorus comes, you two sit in silence as he pulls over to a mcdonald’s drive through. it’s quiet,lights of the glowing sign washing you with hues of colour and making you look of another world. you turn to him, boredly saying, “ you’re not so bad if we get to do this ,” and he rolls his eyes. he clicks his tongue , “ you’re literally like inlove with me, shut up,” he jests. your eyes don’t move for a moment, neither does your body, until you mutter a ‘true’ and turn away like it’s nothing.

rintarou waits for you to make a joke- but you don’t.

his face is pink, your tone was so genuinely that he could believe what you said. that he could think you’re being serious. he sips his sprite, “ good.” he replies to you. whether you were kidding or not, it’s a safe response. you sit there in silence for hours, and for once, rintarou isn’t properly communicating with you ; because he values you too much. too much to lose you, too much to love you, because he doesn’t know how. he’ll take you for drives as much as you want- forever even- if it means he gets to keep you.

ATSUMU MIYA ::

you and your lover stumbled into his mansion, a heap of giggles and whiskey flavoured kisses. atsumu’s grip on your hips is hard, loving , equal parts stable as he ushers you down to his garage. the blond smiles at you, lovesick, “thank you for coming back with me, sweet cheeks,” he mumbles. you giggle, eyes shiny and doe like- not a single thought behind them- “ thank you for inviting me, tsumu,” you mewl in response. he grows tired of stumbling and picks you up, earning a girly giggle, and practically running down the stairs with you. “ tsumu!” you laugh heartily, tears in your eyes as he nearly falls but somehow manages to keep you off the ground. he gets up sloppily, converse squeaking against marble floors right before he enters the garage. the man puts you down, planting a disgustingly wet kiss on your cheek and rubbing it with his large, calloused thumb.

he spreads his beefy arms, “ welcome to my pride and joy,” he stumbles a bit, “ apart from you, and my dog, my babies of course” he smiles. your lips part in awe looking at them all, and he smirks with pride. you feel playful - “ glad i gave you a chance, babes, this is really impressive. might just marry you for all this,” you say. he raises his eyebrows, a smile on his face and the apples of his cheeks rising, closing the gap between you he gets so close that you smell your favorite champaigne on his breath. “well baby, if it’s the money you want i’ll give it you. cant say ‘no’ to the prettiest baby in the world, can i?” his eyes are glazed under the influence, but his tone sounds so kind. so tender with you. you knew that atsumu would put the ocean in the sky for you, but something about him saying made you fall for him again. your blond lover melts at the blush on your cheeks, and backs away again.

when he drags you to a car you pull him to a halt. “ tsum,” you say, “ we can’t drive- we had alcohol,” you say. atsumu laughs , grabbing your neck gently and placing yet another sloppy kiss on your cheek, “ i wanna make out with you in my car, honeybunch, not drive,” he slurs. he gets in the back seat,hauling you onto his thick thighs and kneading at your hips. “ so gorgeous, so handsome , so perfect for me,” he says in-between kisses placed lovingly on your puffy lips. “ my good baby, my baby.” he’s babbling, mindlessly saying whatever his heart desires, “ mine, mine, mine,” he continues, like a mantra , sacred and ancient- like the only thing that he knows.

he kisses your lips hungrily and squeezes your sides, as if to keep you and this moment in his grasp forever. the leather under you is hot with passion and affection, the most innocent lust he’s ever felt because you are worth everything. whether it’s all his money or his entire soul- he’d give it all to you.

brain went wOmp for sakusa’ s i’m not sureeee how i feel. also not proofread cus my phone is dying but i rly rly like atsumu’s like woah. tbh i’m JUST NOT SURE ABOJT KIYOOOOOOMIS AAAAAAA but this was fun af !!! kiss kiss fall inlove

[the-authoress-writes]

Wherever You Go Chapter Two

Tom “Iceman” Kazansky x Aviator!reader (Callsign: Thorn)

Moodboard by @bradshawsbaby

Written for @roosterforme’s Top Gun Rocktober Playlist Fic Challenge

Synopsis: Tom Kazansky made a mistake.

Or rather, a series of mistakes.

1. He chose to take the assignment as an instructor at TOPGUN.

2. He fell in love with one of his students.

3. He broke her heart.

4. He chose to leave TOPGUN, and redeploy.

Now, he was stuck onboard the USS Nimitz with the woman whose heart he broke, with no way out.

Unbelievably, that’s not the problem.

Problem is, he still loves her.

Series Warnings: Teacher/Student relationship (but you already knew that), warnings will be updated as the series progresses.

Chapter Warnings: Navy-level cursing, slight sexual humor, sexual harassment, assault, a sort-of bar fight, and period-typical sexism.

Author’s Note: I am quite happy with this chapter, because once I forced myself to write it, it sort of came together fairly easily.

We have more tidbits of Thorn’s backstory, and a whole lot more Ice/Thorn interaction.

I can’t wait to see everyone’s reaction to this chapter!

Thank you so, so very much to @roosterforme for hosting the Top Gun Rocktober Fic Challenge, and for allowing me to use one of my favorite 80s rock ballads, “The Flame” by Cheap Trick.

Lyrics from the song will be peppered in throughout this series, because it’s too good not to, and the song is the reason this story exists, as it is what birthed the plotline.

A huge thank you and shout out to @thatsrightice, who helped me so much with the hop maneuvers last chapter, by researching the F-14 and A-4 high and low for me.

Special thanks also to @valmare, the fact that I am writing Top Gun/Top Gun: Maverick reader fic is all your fault; but thank you so much for dragging me down with you, it’s been an absolute joy!

Previously on “Wherever You Go”…

It took a beat, but then, several people in the crowd moved, and he saw her—her hair cascaded down her shoulders, as sharp eyes surveyed The O like it was the skies, dressed, unlike everyone else in the Navy who occupied this space, in civvies; a loose, white blouse tucked into jeans, cinched with a thick brown leather belt at her waist.

And everything seemed to fade into the background, the sight of her drowning out the sound of the bar, and Mav’s howling laughter.

Eventually, Mav’s boisterous laughter, no—cackling—could not be ignored, the shorter man practically screeching into his ear. “I called it—I fucking called it!!!” In an undertone, he continued, “Hell of a woman, isn’t she?”

Tom was sincerely regretting not wearing his Shooters, perceived dickishness be damned, as he fought the widening of his eyes, and directed his attention to protesting, “What are you talking about?” in a last ditch effort to divert, divert, divert.

“You’re into her, you asshole,” the other man hissed, leaning in, having at least some delicacy.

“I—it’s not like that,” he stammered, foundering for words, knowing there was blood in the water, and Mav was the proverbial shark. “I find her… interesting,” he awkwardly finished.

Mav rolled his eyes. “Uh-huh, I’m sure you do; you’re lucky Sli’s not here to see your pining ass.

He’d probably say something stupid, like,” here, Mav deepened his voice in imitation of Slider, “‘I bet you’d like to invite her to study your NATOPS.’”

Tom cut his wingman a glare, before, as if magnetically pulled, his gaze slid back to Thorn as she moved through the bar. “I’m not pining, it’s—it’s purely a… a pilot-to-pilot professional interest, you know.”

He inwardly cringed at that, but knew that regardless of the word choice, this would definitely still be humiliating as hell, whether he admitted anything or not.

The smaller man scoffed so loudly, he idly wondered if the other side of the bar could hear it. “If that’s a purely professional interest, I’m a damn mermaid princess.

‘Cause you see, Ice, your mouth says no, but your eyes say yes.

They’re screaming it, actually.”

“Shut up, or I’ll tip you off your barstool,” Tom threatened without much heat.

“Like I’ll believe that, you love me too much.”

“And your flat ass is fucking lucky.”

Mav sighed, tapping the bottom edge of his bottle on the counter. “Insult to my magnificent ass aside, I don’t blame you, Ice, like I said, she is a hell of a woman.”

“I…” he paused, looking around to see if anyone was listening to their conversation, “—purely hypothetically; if I did have a… less-than professional interest in her—would you believe me if I denied it?”

His wingman looked at him as if he’d just randomly declared to everyone in The O that Pete “Maverick” Mitchell was the better pilot. “No.”

Exhale. “So, again—purely hypothetically—it’d be useless to keep deny—”

“—Yes.”

He rolled his eyes at the adamant interruption, but the silence quickly drew on as a viridian gaze looked at him expectantly.

Tom wrestled with himself, debating the implications and consequences of admitting, even to himself and one of his closest brothers, that he had a… decidedly un-professional interest in one of his students.

God, he felt like a creep even thinking it.

“I—as her instructor, there is a burden of responsibility upon me—”

Mav groaned, “Fuck’s sake, Tom, be honest with yourself and me, for crying out loud.

You don’t have to be “Ice-cold, no mistakes”, rulebook shoved so far up your ass you can taste each subsection, with me, of all people, the same guy who dated an Admiral’s daughter.

A fellow aviator is nothing.”

Tom sighed, “I don’t—I’ve never—” he frustratedly cut himself off, staring into the distance, attempting to collect the fragments of his dignity, Mav waiting patiently beside him, stalwart.

After a highly pregnant pause, he finally blurted, “It’s wrong, Mav, it’s so wrong.

How can I—she’s my student,” he desperately said.

“The heart wants what it wants,” his wingman replied, surprisingly gentle.

He buried his head in his hands, “Why couldn’t I have met her while I was deployed, Pete?”

A warm hand pat his shoulder. “Come on, Ice, it’s not that bad.

After graduation, when she’s no longer in your chain of command, you’re free to ask her out.

Until then, you’re bound by the no fraternization rule, but—”

“Are you trying to comfort me, or remind me of how pathetic I am?” he growled into his hands.

Tom could see the responding shit-eating grin even in the darkness of his palms. “Awww, you’re not pathetic, wingman mine, just a little lame—and I wasn’t done—no one ever said you can’t talk to her, Tommy boy.”

He lifted his head from his hands. “Talk.

To her.”

“No, to Ro,” the sarcasm dripped from Mav’s tone, “—yes, to her!

I mean, other than your repeated use of the word ‘what’ lately, you seem to be mostly capable of stringing together a sentence in front of her, so talk to her.”

“Well, fuck me, then,” he sarcastically moaned, the import of his confession hitting him like a 2x4.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’d like her to,” the raven-haired aviator grinned.

Tom retorted, “Oh, fuck you t—” he stopped himself too late, realizing the plethora of jokes to be had with that retort.

And evidently, Mav had the same train of thought, judging from his chortle. “Didn’t think you were a—ménage kind of guy, Ice.”

After a quick glance around, he muttered, “Khuy.”

“Testa di cazzo.

Two can play that game, Thomas,” Mav smirked, making him snort.

(It wasn’t often his wingman whipped out the Italian, but it did come out every so often—it wasn’t really useful anyway; the only Italian the younger man remembered from his late Nonna were the curse words.)

Soon growing serious, he questioned, “How do I talk to her, Mav?”

“Generally, words work.”

“Pete!” Tom cried, lightly slapping his palm on the bar. “I’m serious here!

I’ve never met anyone like her—I—I don’t understand how—I mean—thank God you didn’t make a pass at her, or she’d probably never talk to me by sheer dint of being your friend.”

“Hey,” Mav pointed, “like I said, I don’t flirt with every woman with a pulse—I am capable of wanting relationships with the opposite sex that are not sexual.

And even if I was inclined to try and screw up a good friendship, I’d have less than a snowball’s chance in hell—not you, though, apparently.

Which; good for you!”

He froze. “What makes you think that I have a chance?”

The younger man took a relaxed sip of beer. “Believe me, you have a chance, and unless you want to remain a sad schmuck sitting at the bar with only his wingman for company, you have to talk to her.”

He sighed, gray eyes staring stubbornly ahead.

“Listen, do you need me to be your wingman here?

Because I’ll do it, Ice.”

“I’ll talk to her, okay?” Tom snapped, “Just… at least let me finish my drink?”

Mav sighed, and nodded, glancing over Tom’s shoulder, “Well, get sipping, Kazansky, because you’re not the only one who’s tallied her.”

One glance in the direction his wingman was looking made a furious, burning feeling rise in his chest; the eyes of quite a few men were tracking Thorn as she moved through the room.

She and Romeo were making a beeline for one of the tables near the back which seated most of their other students; Warlock and Shogun; Babe and Priest; and Belter and Elvis, which made the burning in his chest ease a little.

“She’s sitting with our students,” he observed.

“And?”

He smacked his lips, “That gives me some time, because one, I know they’re probably too scared of her, two, her RIO’s there, and three, no one’s going to try coming on to a woman sitting with seven other navy men.”

Mav’s gaze was incredulous. “I cannot believe you.

If I were you, I’d be over there right now.”

Evenly, he replied, “But I’m me and you’re you.

Are you on my wing or not?”

His wingman chugged the remainder of his beer, slamming the bottle down. “Fuck you, you know I am.

But let the record state that I am very much against this.”

Tom easily sipped the watering vodka on the rocks, confident he had time, while the other man frustratedly drank another bottle of beer.

He’d just signaled the bartender for another vodka on the rocks when he heard Thorn’s raised voice. “I told you, I’m not interested.”

His gaze snapped to the other end of the bar, where Thorn was standing, an enlisted navy man behind her.

The man said something into her ear, to which Thorn loudly insisted “No,” moving the slight distance from him the crowded bar area afforded her, and the next moment, when the man grabbed her arm, Tom rose from his barstool, Mav not far behind him, obviously having heard it too.

He began pushing through the incomprehensibly still-thick crowd, even as she wrenched her arm free, the action only sending the sailor into a fury.

“Bitch!” the man slurred, brutally yanking her back by her hair, causing Thorn to rightfully viciously elbow him in the gut, but unluckily, it only sent him staggering back slightly, his grip on her hair unrelenting.

The fury in Tom’s blood, which had surged back to the surface ever since he rose from his seat, froze into icy, deadly calm—he’d see this man arrested and dishonorably discharged by the end of the week, hook or by crook, he resolved.

Suddenly, his nebulously murderous thoughts and movement through the frozen crowd were interrupted by a loud, barked “Hey!!”

Romeo ran in, long legs eating up the distance, fury blazing in his eyes and emanating from his being, people parting for him like he carried the staff of Moses. “Get your hands off her!!” he said, pulling the sailor off of Thorn.

The enlisted man’s eyes widened, some of the drunken haze in his gaze clearing. “Easy, man, I didn’t know she was yours—”

“No one touches my pilot,�� Romeo finished, snarling into his face.

“I—wait—pilot?” The asshole had the gall to frown. “You’re telling me the chick’s a—”

A dark hand smacked onto the enlisted’s shoulder, gripping tightly. “You just assaulted a TOPGUN student.

Meet Lieutenant __, also known as Thorn,” Warlock finished sternly, while Shogun also clamped a tight grip on the now-terrified enlisted man’s other shoulder.

“Congratulations, genius, you just attacked a superior officer—I’m sure the court martial’s going to love your suave charm,” Priest smarmily declared, a sarcastic smile on his face.

“C—court martial?” Seaman Dead Man, as Tom mentally dubbed him, stammered.

“Yeah,” Priest affirmed, “I’d say what you just literally pulled is some serious Conduct Unbecoming, am I right?” He turned to a serious Babe, who had his arms crossed.

“Yep,” his pilot replied.

“I—“ the sailor weakly protested.

“Save it for the MA, sailor,” Warlock warned, sharing a look with Shogun, before the two of them began to drag the enlisted man out of The O.

Behind him, Mav called out, “Hey Brian,” addressing one of the bartenders, which brought Tom back to reality.

As he made a beeline for Thorn, who had been rather forgotten in the ruckus, Tom faintly heard a man reply, “Already called the Masters-at-Arms, Mav,” which ever-so-slightly thawed the icy fire within him, knowing that the man who dared to touch Thorn was going to be arrested.

“Hey,” he softly said, carefully approaching, maintaining a polite distance, mindful of the dozens of eyes in the bar, “you okay?”

She looked up, face calm. “Yeah,” she breathed, but he could see that she was a little bit shaken—he didn’t blame her. “Nothing I’m not used to,” she smiled sharply.

Anything else was halted by the arrival of Romeo, whose uniform shirt seemed slightly more untucked than it had been moments ago, and whose knuckles, upon a swift glance, seemed a little redder than usual.

He looked into the placid face of the backseater, whose eyes held a challenge, daring Tom to call him out.

He nearly laughed at the surprise in Romeo’s eyes when all he gave was a minute nod, but the man seamlessly leaned down, hand on her shoulder, showing the concern he had the luxury of displaying as her RIO, “Thorn, I’m so sorry I couldn’t get here sooner, I should’ve been faster in the bathroom.”

“It’s fine,” she waved off, “it’s not your fault, Ro.

Blame that dickwad.

Or fuck, blame me—if I’d just worn my whites—”

“No,” he interjected, drawing the gaze of both pilot and RIO. “Whites or not, no means no.

Anyone with half a brain knows that.”

“Not him, apparently,” she smirked.

Another voice interrupted, “Lieutenant __ and Lieutenant Kinford?”

“Yes,” they replied in sync.

To his credit, the MA froze for only the minutest moment once he realized that Lieutenant __ was a woman. “Uh, I understand there was a disagreement?”

Tom stepped forward. “Yes.

The seaman Lieutenants Bates and Han were holding outside assaulted Lieutenant __, and her RIO, Lieutenant Kinford, defended her appropriately.

I can testify to that.”

The MA nodded. “And you are?”

“Lieutenant Tom Kazansky.

I’m Lieutenants __ and Kinford’s Junior Instructor at TOPGUN.

My co-instructor, Lieutenant Mitchell, and four more of our students can attest to the same story, as well as anyone in this bar; we all saw what happened.”

“TOPGUN, huh?

I’ll have to make a call to your CO, and you, Lieutenant Mitchell, Lieutenants __ and Kinford, and all your students will have to come with me back to base.

But if everything played out like you said it did, you should be free to go before it gets too late.”

“Thank you, I’ll let them know.”

“Be outside in five,” and with another professional nod, the MA made his way out.

“I’ll help round them all up,” murmured a Mav who had suddenly appeared at his elbow.

“Thanks.” Turning to Thorn and Romeo, he continued, “Thorn, if you’re physically alright, the two of you should get outside immediately—let’s not keep the MA waiting.”

She nodded, running a hand through her hair. “Yes, sir.”

He returned the nod, and went in search of the rest of their students.

In no time, Tom and Mav had gathered their students outside, and the MA scanned the row of naval officers, eyes landing on Thorn and Romeo at the end. “Lieutenant Kinford, you’ll be riding with me.”

His pilot immediately spoke up. “Sir, I don’t think that’s a wise decision.”

“Relax, Lieutenant, he’ll be in the front seat.” Addressing the whole group, he continued, “Due to regulations, you’ll all have to ride back to base as separately as you can.

Pilots and RIOs can ride together, but no more.”

Thorn’s face fell almost imperceptibly. “Sir, my RIO and I walked here from our housing, we came here straight from a deployment, neither of us have a car here at Miramar.”

“You can ride with me,” Tom spoke up.

She and the MA turned their gaze on him, the MA breaking the sudden silence. “It’s not ideal since you’re her superior officer… but I’ll allow it.”

“Thank you, sir,” she nodded.

“I’ll see you all on base.” The Master-at-Arms’ tone held a slight note of warning, promising repercussions if anyone decided to skip out on reporting tonight.

The group quickly dispersed, as Mav approached Thorn to give her a gentle shoulder punch, murmuring, “You okay, Acey?”

She rolled her eyes, “Yeah, you don’t have to baby me, Mav.”

“I know.

But we all promised, remember?

We’d look out for each other.”

Her eyes softened, “I know.

Sorry.”

“No problem.

And… you’re in safe hands with Ice; he’s one of a very few I’d trust to have my back and my wing.”

Fraternal warmth rushed through him at hearing the level of trust the other man had in him, a trust which was impossible a year ago.

“Thanks, Mav,” she breathed. “I’ll see you on base.”

Mav grinned crookedly at her, softly tapping her arm and walking to his bike, but not before sending Tom a smirk as he passed.

Tom decided to ignore the smirk, tilting his head in the direction of his car. “I’m over here.”

When he reached the driver’s side door of the Chevelle, he heard an incredulous, “This is yours?

I thought the truck was your car.”

He chuckled, “They both are.

I don’t usually take the Chevelle out, but… I felt she needed a drive today.”

Thorn ran a careful finger over the passenger’s side door, reverently breathing, “She’s gorgeous.

Is this the original paint?”

His smile widened, “Yeah, it is—my grandfather had it custom painted.

This was his; he left it to me in his will.”

“Wow, you’re lucky.” She paused, “That didn’t come out right—I mean—I’m sorry your grandfather died, I—”

“I know what you mean, it’s okay,” he laughed. “Come on, get in, you can admire Mally more later, I’d be happy to tell you about her.”

They both slid into the driver’s side and passenger’s side respectively, Thorn scanning the interior in awe. “The interior’s original too, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, my grandfather did the hard work, he kept her pristine, and all I had to do was keep it up.” He turned the key with a smile, knowing that Mally’s engine was in perfect condition, and if Thorn held the paint and interior in such reverence, the engine would elicit the same, if not a greater reaction.

Mally’s engine roared to life, evening out to her familiar purr, making Thorn’s jaw drop as she met his eyes, and he revved the engine with a smirk.

“Wow,” she breathed, “she sounds amazing.”

“I know,” he grinned, and cautiously reversed out of the spot, turning out to the main road back onto base.

There was a pause before she inquired, “If I may ask, why is she named Mally?

It’s an unusual name.”

Tom hesitated.

Very few people knew he could speak Russian, and even fewer had heard him speak it.

It was something that could be received negatively in this time of Cold War, but… something told him this secret of sorts was safe with her. “Malysh.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My Dedushka, my grandfather, was the one who named her.

Malysh is Russian for baby, but he shortened it to Mally.”

“Oh.”

For a moment, he feared that he was wrong about her, but then she huffed a laugh. “That completely tracks.

I actually should have seen that coming—I mean, it’s right there, for God’s sake: Kazansky.

That’s a big Eastern European neon sign,” she gestured grandly.

He waited for the question he expected, but was surprised when it didn’t come. “…That’s it?

You’re not going to ask me if I’m a Russian spy?”

Thorn sent him a wry glance. “Even if you were, would you really tell me?”

That startled a laugh from him. “I’m not, but good point.”

“Here’s the thing, I believe you, but…” she leaned towards him, making her perfume overpower the scent of his cologne and the leather polish he used on Mally’s interior, “let me just say that that’s exactly what a spy would say.”

He fought the urge to swallow thickly at her proximity, and instead coolly replied, “I plead the fifth.”

She laughed again, and leaned back, allowing him to relax into his own seat, and a comfortable silence filled the car.

Soon, however, he registered her fidgeting. “So, uh…” she began, “the other guys kind of got a head start on us… do you think we’ll be the last to get onto base?”

Tom frowned, “They didn’t get that much of a head start on us, I think we’ll be fine.”

She inhaled evenly, and he could practically hear the gears turning in her head, which made him glance at her.

A moment later, it clicked. “…But, just to be sure… maybe a little afterburner won’t hurt anything.”

Thorn looked at him with pure joy and excitement, and warmth rushed through him at the fact that it was him who had put that joy and excitement in her gaze.

In that moment, he knew he’d do anything to keep that light in her eyes.

And as he gunned the engine down the road to her jubilant whoop, he knew.

He was really fucked.

When they arrived at Viper’s office, they saw that Mav was already there—not surprising, given the unholy speeds at which the other pilot rode his motorcycle.

“Hey,” Mav greeted, “you beat everyone else here.”

“Yeah,” Tom replied, “we took a shortcut.”

His wingman sent him a mildly skeptical look, but he refused to budge.

“Lieutenant __.”

A look down the hall showed a determined Jester striding towards them, sending all of them to attention, the three of them chorusing a “Sir.”

“At ease.”

“Would you like us to report to you now, sir?” Tom asked.

“No, they called Viper in, you’ll be reporting to him, I just thought I’d—check on you—all of you.”

“I’m alright, sir, nothing I can’t handle,” Thorn replied.

“Lieutenant Kinford… defused the situation, sir,” Mav interjected, sending Tom a glance as if to say, “See—I can say things diplomatically.”

“I see.”

The doors opening halted anything further, and they all turned to see the MA flanked by the seaman and Romeo, the rest of their students taking up the rear.

Everyone stood at attention upon stopping in front of Jester, who repeated the command of “At ease,” before addressing the MA. “Captain Metcalf will be here momentarily.”

As if the statement had summoned said man, the doors opened yet again, admitting Viper, whose ever-so-slightly rumpled khakis were the only indicator of the late hour call-in.

After getting the bare bones from the MA, Viper directed him and the seaman to one of the unoccupied offices, calling Warlock and Shogun to his office first.

Pair by pair, the students reported to Viper, each one taking no more than a few minutes.

Romeo was eventually called in, Thorn sending him a supportive look, and after a slightly longer duration of time than the others, the RIO stepped out with a warm smile. “You’re up next, Thorn.”

She inhaled, and rose, spine straight, carrying herself as if she were in whites like everyone else, and he admired the confident way she walked into Viper’s office, nerves for her sake bubbling up as the door shut behind her.

Against his will, his knee began bouncing, and he forced himself to breathe evenly, trying to keep his composure.

“Speed it up a little, Ice, why don’t you,” Mav muttered, dropping into the seat next to him, which Thorn had vacated.

“Like you’re not worried,” he muttered back.

“I am worried, but Viper’s fair.

And if everyone told the truth, which I think they did, Acey’s gonna get off without too much trouble.”

“She didn’t do anything wrong, Mav, she defended herself,” he indignantly murmured.

A heavy sigh. “I know, but… I know from experience that she’ll still be punished to some extent.

Viper can’t let her off the hook completely.

It’s just how it is for people like me and her.”

“It’s not right,” Tom grit out.

“It’s not.

But you can’t do anything about it right now.”

“I will, one day,” he promised.

Mav chuckled, “I can easily see you as CO of Miramar one day.”

He pulled a face, knowing his hopes went higher than CO of an Air Station.

“Higher, huh?” The other pilot read him like a book. “What, you aiming for COMPACFLT or something?”

“I’d settle for that,” he grinned.

His wingman burst into laughter. “I can see you as an Admiral, Ice.” Sobering, Mav continued, “I know you’ll get there.

But I’m still going to be the better pilot.”

The well-tread argument was stopped by Viper himself opening his door. “Kazansky, Mitchell.”

The two of them sent each other uneasy glances before rising and entering the Captain’s office, flanking Thorn out of instinct, and snapping off crisp salutes.

“Lieutenant Kazansky reporting, sir.”

“Lieutenant Mitchell reporting, sir.”

The salute having been returned, the Captain declared, “At ease.” Viper pinched the bridge of his nose. “Everyone’s stories lined up; Lieutenant __ was assaulted by a drunk seaman, and she used appropriate force to defend herself until her RIO… defused the situation.

And I’m assuming your stories would be the same.”

“Yes, sir,” the two wingmen chorused.

“Now, I have a dilemma.

As I’m sure you all understand, Lieutenant __ here is in a unique position, as the first female naval aviator selected for TOPGUN.

I will make it very clear; I believe that Lieutenant __ was perfectly in the right to elbow that seaman, and I will ensure that he is demoted and reassigned at the least, and dishonorably discharged, if I can help it.

However, there are those who will not see things the same way, and they will believe that doing what is right is wrong.

So… I have no choice but to discipline you, Lieutenant __.”

Tom’s indignant, “Sir!” rang out at the same time as Thorn’s resigned, “Yes, sir.” and determined to be heard, he continued, “Sir, this isn’t right; you can’t kick her out of TOPGUN—”

“I was not done yet, Lieutenant Kazansky,” Viper warned, not unkindly. “I am not kicking Lieutenant __ out of the program, that would be a waste of talent.

But she will be disciplined.

Because if I do not, with the scrutiny that she is naturally under, due to her gender, it will be called into question why she was not disciplined for assaulting a seaman.”

“Sir, he attacked her—we all saw it!” he replied, ire building, earning a glance from Mav.

“I understand that, Kazansky, but interrupt me or raise your voice again, you leave me no choice but to discipline you as well,” Viper evenly stated, warning in his tone.

Tom swallowed thickly, clenching his jaw tightly.

His CO leaned forward in his seat, folding his arms on his desk. “Now, the only reason I am doing this is because should I not discipline her, some asshole Admiral—of which there are many, believe me—could decide to question my judgment upon hearing of this event, due to the report that I must file, and he could choose to take Lieutenant __’s discipline into his own hands; and his punishment would be much harsher than mine.

Her being stripped of her wings is a possibility, depending on which asshole sees.

I am not going to allow even the possibility of that.

Again, you understand why I am doing this, Lieutenant __?”

“I understand, sir,” Thorn evenly replied.

“Good.” The venerable aviator opened a drawer in his desk, and pulled out a file, Thorn’s service file, Tom realized, when he saw her service photo on the top page. “I see you have a degree in aeronautics and are a certified mechanic in both motor vehicles and aircraft, Lieutenant __?”

“Yes, sir.”

Well—no wonder Thorn and Mav got along like a house on fire.

The Captain nodded, having reached a decision. “Lieutenant __, this is your punishment: you will assist the aircraft maintenance technicians after hours, with any work they assign you, for four weeks, to be supervised by Lieutenants Kazansky or Mitchell.” Viper shifted to look both Tom and Mav in the eye. “You two will organize a suitable schedule depending on your respective classwork.”

“Yes, sir,” they replied.

Despite the fact that Thorn didn’t move, Tom could feel the relief course through her. “Thank you, sir.”

Viper smiled slightly, nodding at her. “You’re all dismissed.”

And trailing Thorn and Mav, as Tom walked out of the office, just as he was also about to relax, he realized just what Thorn’s punishment entailed: he would be spending time after hours, alone—

With her.

God, he was really fucked.

To be continued…

Previous Part Next Part

Faceclaims

Russian and Italian glossary

Disclaimer: translations are from the interwebs.

Please don’t kill me.

Khuy: this is both a prayer and a word that inexplicably means dick or dickhead.

Testa di cazzo: again, dickhead.

I headcanon Mav as having Italian heritage, because… well, all that fire and passion—I don’t know, I just get Italian vibes from him.

Masters-at-Arms are the US Navy equivalent of the Army’s Military Police.

Conduct Unbecoming an Officer and a Gentleman is Article 133 of the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

(Technically, enlisted personnel cannot be prosecuted under this law, but let’s just say that Babe was just trying to scare the seaman.)

However, a clause of Article 134 makes punishable conduct which has a tendency to bring the service into disrepute or which tends to lower it in public esteem, and I’d say what that seaman did counts.

Special thanks again to @valmare for the Ice has a Chevelle headcanon!

Upon a little research, I couldn’t find any evidence of black metal flake paint being a factory paint option for the Chevelle, so… custom paint job it is!

Cold War

What “I plead the fifth” means.

Service Whites

Taglist

@valmare

@callsign-skydancer

@permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88

@tadomikiku

@malindacath

@aviatorobsessed

@lynnevanss

@djs8891

If you’d like to join my taglist, just send me an ask!

[soulless-angel25]

assigning random jobs/occupations to new who characters- humanish au

missy- seamstress

river- bounty hunter, archeologist

clara- school teacher/nanny (this is canon)

amy- writer + various side gigs(modeling, kiss-o-gram, and other)

rory- nurse (canon)

bill- uni student, lunch lady, artist for commission

rose- (got her a-levels) uni student, barista (bar/pub)

mickey- mechanist

jackie- hair stylist

jack- former military,

martha- doctor

donna- temp (canon), goes on those debate shows even if she has little/no knowledge of the thing

yaz- police

graham- bus driver (canon)

grace- former school teacher, rockwall instructor

ryan- youtuber, does odd jobs on the side

nine- former military,

ten- freelancer, subs at schools

eleven- scientist

twelve- uni teacher

thirteen- pre-k teacher

[lostinwalmartmymomleftme]

What r ur dreamswap headcanons :3

Have to redo this bc Tumblr hates me:

* 7 each

* Human Ver. Specific

Dream

Dream 100% has something that’s dedicated to Ani, (hospital, orphanage, medical organization, etc.)

To add more depth to him being Latino, I choose to believe he’s Chilean-American

He doesn’t like to be touched, but would never correct anybody on it because he doesn’t want to offend anyone and he doesn’t view it as a priority or concern 

Only has one scar and it was prior to the incident (tm), nightmare, dropped a bowl, and a shard of the ceramic cut dream deep enough to form a scar, and subconsciously Dream doesn’t want it to heal, so it doesn’t fully heal, though it is fairly faint, it’s on his wrist directly above the bone 

He’s probably some form of genderqueer, yeah, doesn’t know it and refuses to look into it because he just doesn’t view it as important, he probably goes by pronouns 

His magical blondness, skips a few streaks of his hair, so he has black streaks that he dies blonde to match the rest of his hair

Canonically multilingual, speaking both English and Mandarin, though I would like to add that he can fluently speak Latin, modern Spanish, and French

Bonus: Dream does that OCD thing (w/o actually having it) where all of his pens when they’re laying on his desk are at the exact same place, in a perfect little row

Nightmare

He sits in trees and people watches, like he sits up in trees, kind of in forests and watches people on picnics and fun little family outings, and tries to imagine what his life would be like if it hadn’t been what it is 

His hair is extremely heat damaged, because he totally straightens it (it’s the only thing about him that’s allowed to be straight /j)

Extension on him canonically being Latino: I think he’s Peruvian-American

For some reason collect bottle caps (like the little metal ones you get on alcohol bottles (he doesn’t drink though))

He has a peanut allergy

Despite being an insomniac, whenever he does actually sleep, he starfishes

He doesn’t like looking in mirrors, there’s anything wrong with it, there isn’t really reason why he doesn’t like it, he just find it unsettling and he covers the one in his room with a blanket

Ink

He has one of those canopy beds, but the actual canopy part is custom painted and embroidered (by himself) with band logos, TV show logos, characters he likes, etc.

He is really bad at spelling, professional emails are more like word scrambles

If someone were to ask him to draw them, he would draw them, claim he made mistake, tear it up, then draw a stick figure, and give it to them

Usual Ethnicity one: he actually doesn’t know his ethnicity beyond being Latino, but he is Cuban-American

He’s emo and claims his favorite color is black, but it’s orange which is equally as bad

He has no real gauge of his own pain tolerance and usually has to be forced into medical situations by other people, usually Dream when he reports back to him

Ink’s allergic to bleach and ant bites

Cross

He hasn’t had his first kiss

He uses Old Spice cologne in the classic scent. But he does it to a NAUSEATING level.

He’s Irish, ethnically. I don’t make the rules.

He’s minorly lactose intolerant

This man owns like five Tamagatchis

He makes really good bread for some reason? Like this man SLAYS a sourdough

Cross uses 3-in-1 bodywash

(This is a Tamagatchi if you don’t know)

Blue

This man wears hair curlers to bed 100%

He’s really bad at math

Probably advocates for eating healthy (being a yoga instructor, possible influencer)

Blue is so ADHD to me

American-Italian/Portuguese

Has never made a bed in his LIFE

Blue seems like the kind of man who would burn water

Error

Clean freak, he prefers to keep the house clean, but it ends up a mess anyways because Cross and Nightmare always end up messing it up

Easily the best driver of the Meme Squad

His lock/homescreen is an inspirational quote

LOVES the rain, finds it calming and loves the smell of it, but hates getting caught out in the rain (loves the aesthetic, hates the actual thing)

Maybe American-Moroccan?

He likes dark fantasy books

Was top of his class when he had been in school, prior to his amnesia

Kevin

Can read. (Can’t write (no thumbs))

Can and does steal from the meme squad

Bonus:

How long I think it takes DS to get ready in the mornings:

Dream takes a solid hour and a half

Blue takes an hour

Nightmare takes 45 minutes

Cross and Ink take 15-20 minute for the sake of layers

Error and Finch take like 5 bc they dress really basic

dreamswap by @\onebizarrekai

[docgold13]

Profiles in Villainy

Speed-o'-Sound Sonic

The inhumanly quick ninja known as Speed-o'-Sound Sonic (or often times just Sonic or Sonikku) is a graduate of the 44th Class of the Ninja Village.  Trained from birth in the martial arts of ninjutsu, Sonic purposefully held back so that his instructors would be extra hard on him and subject him to more intensive training.  While he was viewed as the village’s worst student, all of the extra work and grueling punishments actually enabled him to attain an unparalleled level of skill.  He honed himself to such a degree that he could move at the speed of sound, with his actions all but invisible to the naked eye.  This coupled with his prowess with swords, shurikens and various forms of karate have made him a near peerless warrior.     

After leaving the Ninja Village, Sonic hired himself out as a high priced body guard and assassin.  On one assignment, Sonic foiled an assassination attempt by the villainous Hammerhead and his Paradisers.  Sonic hunted down and slew these attackers but Hammerhead himself got away.  Whilst chasing him, Sonic encountered Saitama the One Punch Man.  With Saitama’s bald head, Sonic mistook him as a member of the Paradisers.  Sonic attacked and was amazed with the ease at which Saitama read and blocked his moves.  Enraged, Sonic leveled a full assault and was quickly and definitively defeated.  

His pride was terribly wounded and Sonic would go on to make it his life’s mission to amass the skill needed to finally defeat Saitama.  Although it is unlikely that he will ever achieve this goal, his efforts to do so have resulted in many adventures, trials and hijinks.  

Actor Yūki Kaji provides the voice for Speed-o'-Sound Sonic in the original anime (with Erik Scott Kimerer voicing the character in the English language dub).  The speedy scoundrel first appeared in the fourth episode of One Punch Man, airing on October 25th, 2015.

[astrologyobservationsss]

Short Story 📖

Moon conjunct Neptune Synastry✨

Fourteen years ago, a little girl named Bella, went to a summer camp. There she meets John. Her 17 y/o instructor. They start a really great relationship, nothing but a student-professor one. Shortly after, John starts a love relationship with Camila.

They -Bella and John- meet every summer and winter on the camp. And there, they try to spend time together. There’s a pleasant feeling that makes them want to be together.

Years go by, and the feeling won’t disappear. It’s that strong that when they meet there’s an instant attraction -like magnets-, and people around can notice the pull.

One day, when Bella was 16 and John 25 he reach her out through DM, and text her

I want to talk to you, but no one can know

She also wanted to talk with him. It was like a fairytale for her. But she won’t cross boundaries, cause she knew he was in a relationship.

They started talking from time to time. The conversations where all night long. Chitchatting hours and hours and just the sunrise could stop them.

They told each other things no one else knew. There was an unusual level of comfort. They intuit how the other one feels. John told her that he feels tenderness for her. But the feeling they have for each other can’t be described with words.

It feels like they are Twin Flames. Everything makes sense but the external situation does them apart. If they were together, the surrounding families would be in shock.

There is a longing to be together, but in reality nothing change. He continues with Camila and she continues waiting for something to change.

Now and then they think about each other, cause they know there is something more. But still nothing changes.

[ohtobemare]

Happy 100 Hon! You deserve it!

Requesting fluff number 5 with Ice because why not? I cannot wait to see what you come up with!

Congratulations again!

Fern. FERNNN. This destroyed me, just a little. Enjoy your Ice, because I know I certainly did.

I've Been Thinking

Viper had droned on about this damn mission briefing for nearly an hour. Somewhere, someone had told you that Metcalf was a man of few words with an iron fist, but you were fairly certain that someone had either meant an entirely different Mike Metcalf at a totally different Top Gun, because this man seemed to just hit his stride at the forty-five minute mark. 

Rookies from all corners of the country make up the current class, seated in perfect little lines much like you had the few years before. Stalk straight and unyielding, nobody had so much as breathed as Vipe had outlined the day’s training objective, the room’s air just about as dead as a corpse. It was stifling, you were sweating through your compression shorts and tank-top, and it was becoming more and more difficult not to fidget. 

Viper had ordered an at ease, but even the posture of standing akimbo was starting to hurt. You were itching to get outside, under the sun and in the breeze, and actually get these kids in the air. They were eager, too—the room was tensioned so thick, you could’ve cut it with a paperclip. Even from here you could see the seat on the profiles of the rubber sock newbies, their eyes catching glimpses of activity beyond the hangar, looking for a fight that wasn’t there. Yet. 

Ice rocked lightly on his feet to your right, his elbow nudging yours. Shoulders back and chin level with the floor, you can’t exactly see the look in his eye from behind his aviators, which are unnecessary in the hangar but a staple to Iceman’s persona. However, the little lift of the corner of his mouth, followed by him ever-so-slightly rocking back on his heels, cues you in. 

As instructors, you don’t have to stand at attention and look so enthralled with Viper’s instructive preamble. But, it’s somewhat expected, more of loose rule than anything else—nobody liked being “that guy” who makes an ass of himself and gets on Mike’s bad side. Long ago you’d learned to just put up and shut up during the lecture portion of the day’s instruction, though it was last on your list of preferred exercises. 

Eyes steady forward, you blink, trying not to smile as Tom edges a bit closer to you. From the corner of your eye, you see him leaning just so, wagging his tongue at you playfully, eyes still forward watching for Viper’s reaction. Mike doesn’t seem to notice, he’s too busy pacing in front of the greenies, hands behind his back, and your bottom lip rolls inward when Ice brushes shoulders with you. 

You’ve been together for almost six months, now. It had started as nothing really all that serious, just a couple of dates with the hottest guy in the class—until it hadn’t just been nothing serious. Ice was a pretentious, cocky son of a bitch that knew what he wanted and strove for excellence in everything. You and your obsessive-compulsive drive for perfection weren’t far behind in the game of “I’m the best at Top Gun.” The only one better than either of you at flight maneuvers was Pete Mitchell, but even he had a thing or two to learn about composure and calculated decisions. 

Precise and, just as his name implies, cold as ice, he’d told you practically from the jump that he wanted to go steady. It had been date numero tres, and had been going pretty spectacularly, despite the wait at the bar for drinks and the broken AC unit to boot. 

You’d been sitting back in a booth at the O-Club, one leg draped over the other, watching the hoard of bodies mesh together in the most chaotic attempt at a group dance you’d ever seen. Tom Kazansky had turned to face you, a dead serious expression on his face as he’d lifted his aviators to the top of his head, thick forearms planted on the table. Looking up at you, he’d taken a slow drink of his bourbon racked with ice, before setting aside the glass and falling back against the booth. 

Dressed in his whites, like always, he’d never looked more delicious. “I’ve been thinking.” 

You’d cracked your usual, goofy smile. “Uh-oh, watch out. Thought patterns initiated. Prepare for evasive maneuvers.”  You’d snorted into the neck of your beer, trying to sound official and professional as your foot bobbed to the music filtering through the bar. Unable to stop your minxy wink as he rolled his eyes, you leaned across the table and reached for his hand. 

“Oh, stop it, Ice. What’s on your mind, lover?” 

His smile had barely registered. “I want us to go steady.” 

You’d snapped bolt upright in the booth, nearly dropping the Blue Moon slung between your fingers. Collecting the shock on your face, the little “o” parting your lips was unavoidable. 

“What? Are–are you serious? Already? It’s only been three weeks!” It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than just dating. At least, that’s what you’d interpreted when he’d asked you out the first time. The second time had been dinner, a little more formal. That night had been the third date, dancing and drinking at the O-Club with the rest of their class. 

“Do I strike you as the kind of guy that is anything less than serious?” 

The rest, as they say, was history. From somewhere in the back of your brain you didn’t think going steady with Tom Kazansky was all that good of an idea, but, you’d agreed—you were, after all, head over heels for the guy. And who couldn’t be? The icy eyes, the sandy hair—arms the size of small trees. Confidence in leagues. And his hands….oof. The hands. They’d held every part of you just so, like God Himself had designed them specifically for every inch of your body. 

Nothing ever seemed to rattle Kazansky, in the air or on the ground. He was a magnificent pilot, handled aircraft unlike anyone you’d ever seen. He was calm and collected. Precise, calculated. Sure of his actions, and of his ability. And that was the exact kind of steadfastness you needed to balance the hellion, wildchild blood your father had christened you with just days before you’d enlisted with the U.S. Navy. 

Viper swung about to stand akimbo before the class, chin lifting in that superior way. “Dismissed. Wheels up in twenty, tadpoles.” No sooner did his mouth close from the statement did the class practically leap from their desks, gathering the reading material that they’d been given from the jump. 

The bustle of activity was hectic as you, and everyone else, hurried to prepare for the hands on portion of the day. You wouldn’t be flying today, graduates were expected to be on the ground as support while Viper was in the air with a group of students, but there were preparations. Getting the rubber socks geared up, fitted, and checked was a task in and of itself—one that you remembered clearly, from the first day. 

You’re about to open your flight locker for sunblock when a familiar, thick hand slaps it closed in front of your face. Startled, you jump back half a step and turn, Ice smirking at you with his head tipped to the side. He leans against the locker, other hand on his hip, fisting in the material of his flight suit. 

“Ice,” you smile halfway at him, eyes tracking down his body for a second. Everyone knows you two are an item—everyone of your peers, anyway. You’d decided to keep it from the brass, at least for a while. Something about Mike and his echelon knowing didn’t sit right in your gut, and you’d communicated that. Clearly. 

“What’s up?” 

Ice wasn’t bothered. Reaching out to tuck a loose curl behind your ear, his smile is easy, familiar. Eyes mapping the features of your face from over the rim of his aviators, he pushes them up with the pad of his finger. You watch his tongue track over his top teeth in that telltale, “I like what I see” way, until he clicks it off the wall of his mouth, matter-of-factly. 

“I’ve been thinking,” he angles to bridge the daylight between the two of you, the hint of whatever gum he’s chewing hitting your senses in just the right way. He’s a breath from you, so easily kissable at this dance, and you can see his eyes behind the shades. Memories from that third date smack you between the eyes, and yours track his, even behind the dark lenses.

You chuckle, shrugging a light shoulder. “Uh-oh.” The smile parting your lips is devious. 

Ice angles back to check the area, and you do the same over your shoulder—nobody’s around, most of the team has gathered outside the hangar’s overhead door, checking gear well away from the lockers. The sounds of mechanics tearing at engine parts, the rattle of steel on steel, the light plod of feet on concrete ensures that nobody can actually hear, or care, about your conversation with Ice. 

Goose and Maverick are already there, helping the rookies gear up—neither of you are exactly missed. You’re probably overstimulated and hyperfixated on the notion of getting caught. Knowing you’re blowing this out of proportion doesn’t ease the thud of your heart against your ribcage, or slow the heat that’s creeping through your blood when he looks back at you, lips lifted in that little way that only belongs to Tom Kazansky. 

True to form, you have to ask him what’s on his mind. He never tells you, likes you to ask. Or to try and read his mind. Either way it puts him in control of the situation, and Iceman loves his control. His finger lifts beneath your chin, his thumb stroking lightly, and you see his eyes drop to consider your mouth for a heartbeat. 

“I’m headed home on leave, next weekend. Thinking I want you to come with me and meet my folks.” 

Flabbergasted, your mouth drops open. The Iceman parents, as they have been deemed by your team, are legendary. Ice’s dad is former Navy, his mother an army nurse. Together they’ve raised a son that not only controls the skies, but is nearly second-to-none in reputation alone. Maverick had met them, once, after the group had been invited for Thanksgiving by said parents—you hadn’t been with, on a deployment. 

They were nice people, but just as their son appeared—affluent, poised, and exceptional. Or so said Pete Mitchell. 

The idea of actually meeting them implied two things—one, that Tom was more serious about this relationship than you first imagined. Going steady for six months had implications, yeah, but nothing like this. And second, did they want to meet you? Unsure if Ice had properly relayed your reputation to his mother and father, you worried about their expectations—you were loud, you were funny, and you were not the calm, cool, collected person that everyone had expected Ice to seek out in a SO. 

Sure, you were charming, but so was Tom—in an elevated way you could never hope to master. The fact that he loved you, the idea that he obviously wanted you to meet his family, suddenly vanished out of your brain. Tone in your ears rattled every coherent thought from your brain, and it was difficult to raise moisture in the back of your mouth, your tongue suddenly swollen to twice its usual size. 

Your little, “Really?” squeaked out weaker than you would’ve preferred, which made him chuckle. 

“Really. They’re excited to meet the girl I’ve told them so much about. My mother is already picking out colors for the nursery.” It was a joke, the easy shake of his shoulders off the laugh implied so, but your heart constricted behind your ribs. 

You felt the color bleed out of your face. “Tom, I—” 

“Say yes,” he tipped your chin back just a little, and stepped even closer. From here you could see every one of his pores, feel the heat of his breath. Being this close, being this dangerous while on base, curled your toes in your boots. Tasting the mint on his breath, you swallow thickly, trying to register his words. It’s hard. 

“Oh gawd, I—Ice. Your parents? I don’t even—” 

“Say yes,” he reiterated, a bit harder this time. He reaches to slide the aviators into his hair, moving to push off the locker and stand fully in front of you. His other hand comes to lay against your jaw, his thumb gently skipping over the apple of your cheek. “I want them to meet you.” The tick of a smile lifts the corner of his mouth. “They’ll love you,” 

You can’t think of anything else but his body heat crashing against your chest, the strength of his hands so gently cradling your face. Vibrating, half from nerves over this sudden news, half from the idea of someone here actually seeing you, your eyes fluttering closed for a heartbeat—enough time for him to chuckle and release a slow breath, his chest brushing against yours. 

“You have any idea how hard it is to stand here and not kiss you?” 

The out-of-nowhere statement makes you squeak out a little gasp, your eyes flying open to find his intense stare riveting you in place. You can’t move, can hardly breathe. Sweat has your tank-top and compression shorts clinging to your skin for dear life, it feels like a freakin’ furnace here in the hangar. Your mind is racing, and you wonder if Ice can actually feel your heart trying to rip out of your chest. Breathing shallow and unfulfilling, your fingers curl into the material of his flight suit, clinging for life. Sanity. Stability. 

Fairly certain you need the infirmary for the barrage your heart’s left against your ribs,  but wholly unwilling to leave this moment, your tongue skips out to trace your bottom lip, eyes darting to his mouth. You want to do it, you can taste him on your tongue even just thinking about it, but you can’t move. He’d promised you he wouldn’t kiss you on base, at your request. 

Damn you and your stupid, stupid decisions. “Ice. Please—”

Unraveling, he can see you’re unraveling, and you watch the moment unfold on his face as he winks at you and his smile grows. “Just know that I wanna kiss you, Lieutenant. I’m a man of my word.” 

Instead, he lifts on his toes and presses a kiss against your forehead. His soft mouth brushing against your hair sends a pool of heat straight to your core, and for a moment you fear your knees are going to give and send you to the floor. Fingers digging into the material of the suit, you pull him close, brushing your nose against his jaw as you lift to press a soft kiss behind his ear. 

“If you don’t kiss me right now, Kazansky—your ass is going to regret it.” 

[hangmansgbaby]

Always Darling | 3 | J.Seresin

B E F O R E T H E S T O R M

Summary: Training for the Uranium Mission begins and while they try their hardest to keep everything under wraps. Not all secrets are meant to be kept.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OC!Willow "Vixen" Seresin, brief mentions of Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x OC Daughter!Willow "Vixen" Seresin and Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x OC God Sister!Willow "Vixen" Seresin

Warnings: none? Cute Seresin family moments, Ellorie being the best kid every, funeral

Note: you all are the absolute best! 😍😍 ENJOY!

Apr 2024 note: I did end up updating this into an OC as I dont write my series as a reader insert anymore.

Word count: 8.8k words (I'M SORRY! MY BRAIN WOULDN'T STOP!)

Masterlist | Always Darling Masterlist

“So where is my goddaughter?” Phoenix questions as Willow and her sit down in the hanger.

“She’s with her grandparents.” Willow answers, standing next to the table by Phoenix.

“Which ones?! I miss the little nugget!” Phoenix practically whines.

“Well that little nugget is now 7 and a pain in our ass.” Jake groans, plopping down at the table diagonally from Phoenix.

“She is not! She’s just upset that all of her classmates get to see both of their parents everyday. Some days it's one, others it's grandma putting her to bed.” Willow slaps his shoulder, sitting in the seat beside him. “She’s with Sarah and Ice.”

“Life of a double pilot child. Must suck ass.” One after another, the other pilots and WSOs file into the Hanger, taking their seats throughout the room. Rooster is one of the last to enter with Fanboy and Payback. Willow glares at him as he sits behind her and Jake, Bradley returns to glare as Jake turns Willow’s chair to face forward.

“Attention on deck!”

All of the pilots rise, standing at attention. Admiral Bates stops at the front of the room. "Good morning. Welcome to your special training detachment. Be seated. I'm Admiral Bates, NAWDC commander. You're all Top Gun graduates. The elite. The best of the best." Everyone looks around at each other, all noting Hangman's smug look. "That was yesterday. The enemy's new fifth generation fighter has leveled the playing field. Details are few, but you can be sure we no longer possess the technological advantage. Success, now more than ever, comes down to the man or woman in the box."

Hangman looks at Willow and Phoenix, winking at them. Both girls scoff and role their eyes. Phoenix uses her middle finger to rub her temple, effectively flipping off Jake without drawing attention to herself.

"Half of you will make the cut. One of you will be named mission leader." Warlock says. "The other half will remain in reserve." Bates explains. "Your instructor is a Top Gun graduate with real-world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. His exploits are legendary. And he's considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. What he will teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death."

Everyone glances behind them and Willow immediately sinks into her seat. “Fuck.” She mutters under her breath. Jake reaches over to rest a hand on her thigh, providing all the comfort she needed from him. 

"I give you Captain Pete Mitchell. Callsign, Maverick."

Pete nods to Admiral Bates before turning to the pilots. "Good morning." Everyone gives him a tight lipped smile, mostly Jake and Phoenix. Willow holds nothing but resentment in her glare and unbeknownst to her, so does Bradley. Pete holds up the F-18 flight book. "The F-18 NATOPS. It contains everything they want you to know about your aircraft. I'm assuming you know the book inside and out."

"Damn straight." Hangman shouts, a couple other pilots agreeing.

"Damn right."

"You got it." 

“Obviously,” Willow mumbles, as Pete drops the booklet into the garbage can at his feet. He immediately catches the attention of everyone in the room who didn’t know of him. Willow and Bradley scoff almost simultaneously at the action.

"So does your enemy. But what the enemy doesn't know is your limits. I intend to find them, test them, push beyond. Today we'll start with what you only think you know. You show me what you're made of." Maverick dismisses the pilot to get into their flight suits.

As they all walk onto the tarmac, Pete calls out to Bradley. "Rooster." Bradley doesn't turn around. "Bradley." Still nothing. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." Bradley turns around and Willow glances over from her jet, rolling her eyes at their interaction. 

“Typical.” She scoffs, finishing her final round of preflight checks. It wasn’t long before she could hear her name being called.

“Lieutenant Commander Mitchell.” She turns, glaring at him. “Look, I just wanted to say that I think we should put everything behind us. For the sake of this mission.”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Willow scoffs, turning away from him.

“Look Willow, I know what I did was messed up, but if you just–”

“What? Give you a chance to explain? I did. Every single time I called you over a school break, or when I had something important to me come up. You were never there. That’s all the explanation I need.” She seeths. “Am I dismissed, Captain?”

“Yea.” Pete sighs, making his way to his own jet. 

Fanboy, Payback, and Rooster are the first in the air. In the lounge, Jake and Willow sit together on one couch with Phoenix and Coyote across from them. The other aviators fill the room, either by the radio, which Bob currently occupies, or messing with the foosball table.

"Good morning aviators. This is your captain speaking." Maverick calls out over comms. "Welcome to basic fighting maneuvers. As briefed, today's exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles. We do not go below the hard deck of 5,000 feet. Working as a team, you shoot me down, or else."

"Or else what, sir?" Payback questions.

"Or else I shoot back. If I shoot either one of you down, you both lose." 

“This guy needs an ego check.” Hangman mutters.

“Oh we can do that.” Willow leans forward high fiving Phoenix.

"What say we put some skin in the game?" Payback suggests.

"What do you have in mind?" Maverick asks.

"Whoever gets shot first does 200 pushups?"

“Guys.” Rooster’s voice comes through the speaker.

"That's a lot of push ups." 

"They don't call it exercise for nothing, sir." Fanboy calls.

"You got yourself a deal, gentlemen. Let's turn and burn."

“So, any new pictures of my favorite niece?” Coyote asks, leaning forward a bit.

“There’s always new pictures.” Willow laughs, pulling her phone out. “Sarah sent me these this morning.” She passes it over and both Coyote and Phoenix look. “First day of school pics. Not like we don’t have a million.”

“Also, we don’t mention her, at all.” Jake whispers to their friends.

“They still don’t know?!” Phoenix whisper-shouts.

“Still don’t talk to them.” Willow answers.

“Vixen. Phoenix, Bob. You’re up next.” Hondo shouts into the room.

“Go get ‘em darlin!” Willow turns and blows a kiss at Jake who catches it.

“I can’t believe you two have been together for 15 years now.” Coyote sighs, moving to sit next to Jake. “Still not ready for a wedding?”

“Okay, Javy. I’m telling you this because you are my best friend but you can’t tell anyone.”

“Scouts honor.” Jake pulls his dog tags out from his flight suit to reveal the wedding band sitting between his dog tags. “Holy shit dude! When did this happen?”

“A year after Elle was born. It's all official with the Navy, but as far as anyone is concerned, we're still dating. Except for those who have to know.”

"See him anywhere?" Willow calls out after 5 minutes of being in the air.

“Nothing on the radar.” Bob calls out.

“You think it's gonna work?” Phoenix questions.

“He’s too cocky for it to not work.” Willow answers. They turn slightly to the right and Willow looks up just in time to see another jet heading their way. “3 o'clock, we got incoming.” Willow calls out.

“Breaking left.” Phoenix calls, turning to break off from Willow.

“Come and get me, old man.” Willow shouts, taking off to distract him. With every twist turn and loop, she narrowly avoids Maverick’s lock.

“You’re good, Vixen. I’ll give you that. But you made one mistake.” Maverick calls.

“And what was that?” Willow smirks. She already knows what he’s about to say.

“You lost your wingman.” Suddenly the lock tone rings through Maverick’s cockpit. 

“What was that again?” Phoenix asks, right behind Mav with a lock on him. 

“I think that’s a kill, sir.” Bob speaks up.

“Nice try, old man.” Willow and Phoenix return to the ground with Maverick not far behind. Once on the ground, Pete goes to do his push-ups while Willow, Phoenix, and Bob make their way to the lounge.

“That’s my girl!” Jake shouts, immediately lifting Willow as she walks inside.

“Okay okay, Jake put me down.” She laughs as he immediately does so.

“You, darlin, are one hell of a badass.” Jake smirks, kissing her.

“Keep it in your pants, Lieutenant Seresin.” Willow giggles as he moves to her neck.

“I’d rather be in yours, Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” He whispers in her ear.

“Hangman, Phoenix, Bob. You’re after Harvard, Yale, and Fritz.”

Jake groans as he pulls from Willow. “I can’t wait to get you home.”

“Too bad, hotshot. We have dinner at the Kazansky’s tonight so we can pick up Elle.” Willow pushes Jake back and walks away.

“Damn tease.” Jake mutters, smirking as he watches her walk away. Willow intentionally swinging her hips more than normal. “Shit.”

Willow sat listening to their flight, sighing as her husband’s cockiness showed through. She knew Phoenix would have a few choice words about him when they landed. And sure enough, she was right.

“I don't understand how you like that man.” Phoenix groans walking into the locker room, Willow not far behind.

“He’s quite charming.” Willow laughs.

“It’s Hangman, Vix!”

“It’s the father of my child, Phoenix! And my husband.” Willow says softly.

“NO!” Willow shows Phoenix her rings, hanging from her dog tags. “When?!”

“Year after Elle was born. We got tired of waiting but always decided to keep it under wraps.”

“I understand why you deal with him now.” Willow laughs at her best friend. “I’m still pissed at him.”

“I expect nothing less.”

“Hey, what the hell is up with Maverick and Rooster?” Hangman questions, running into Willow on his way in from his flight with Rooster.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, they both almost took a nosedive into a mountain because there is something going on between them.” Hangman tells her, Phoenix runs towards the tarmac.

“I’ll see you outside. Shower.” She kisses Jake before following Phoenix.

"Breaking the hard deck, insubordination. Are you trying to get kicked out?" She hears Phoenix's question, walking up behind her.

"Don't worry about it." Bradley mutters.  

"Look, I'm going on this mission. But if you get kicked, you leave us flying with Hangman. Talk to me. What the hell was that?" Phoenix asks, squatting down next to him. 

"He pulled my papers."

"What? Who?" 

"Maverick. He pulled my application to the Naval Academy. Set me back four years." Bradley answers.

“Glad you finally got some tough love.” Willow scoffs.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bradley retorts, turning to see Willow behind him.

“My whole life! Bradley this, Bradley that. At least you got some tough shit from him too.”

“I think I had enough tough shit from your father with how my dad died.”

“Bullshit, you don’t blame him for that. You were always the favorite because of that.” Willow groans. “Always playing the orphan card, even before Aunt Carole died.”

“You’re one to talk. At least you still had someone. You just chose not to reach out for years.”

“Cause he chose you, and sent me away because I was upset! He will always choose you.” Willow sighs. “It's just how he is with you.” Willow sighs, walking past them to the parking lot.

“Hey! How was it today?” Sarah asks, opening the door for Jake and Willow.

“Where’s dad?” Willow questions and Sarah can read the frustration on her face.

“He’s in his office.”

“Mama! Daddy!”

“Hi baby girl.” Every ill feeling on Willow’s mind immediately disappeared at the sight of her daughter running towards her. “Did you have fun with Grandma and Papa today?” Willow asks, kneeling to catch her.

“Yea! We went to the park and then I got a new toy and then Papa got us ice cream!” Elle rambles on about her day as Jake kneels down next to them.

“Did he now? What if Daddy wanted to take you to ice cream after dinner?”

“It's okay Daddy! We can always go again.” Elle smiles, moving into her father’s arms as he lifts her up.

“I don’t know. Two ice cream trips in one day? That's a lot.”

“Please Daddy.” The puppy dog eyes. Jake was always a sucker to the puppy dog eyes, especially to his daughter. His nieces, Maddy and Grace, had taught Elle how to do it and Jake was a goner when his 11 year old nieces and 3 year old daughter brought them out on Christmas eve in 2016, all three getting early christmas presents which Nancy and Willow were not happy about. 

“Oh all right.” Jake sighs before tickling Elle.

“No! Daddy put me down!” She slides from Jake's grip and runs back outside. Willow laughs as Jake follows her.

“He’s so good with her.” Sarah smiles.

“He’s an amazing father.” Willow smiles softly, “How’d she do at school today?”

“You know how first day jitters go. But she was brave and had a fun day. Her teacher said she was very helpful, and talkative.”

“She is her father’s daughter.” Willow smiles, seeing Jake catch Elle who immediately sticks her arms out like wings on a plane and Jake flys her around the backyard. “I’m gonna go have a chat with dad.” Willow smiles softly.

“Don’t be long, dinner will be ready in a few.”

Willow nods, walking towards the hallway leading to Tom Kazansky’s office. Knocking, she slowly enters and calls out. “Hey old man.” Tom turns around, smiling, waving her inside. “How are you feeling?”

You know exactly how I’m feeling.

He wasn’t wrong. She was one of the first people Sarah and Ice had called when they found out his cancer had come back. She herself had cried for hours after the call. “I know but I’m still asking.”

I’m fine. Ice begrudgingly writes.

“Did you know?” Willow questions. “About Maverick and Rooster being here?” Ice nods. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Would you have shown up if you had known?

“Obviously not. You know how they are.”

That’s why I didn’t say anything.

“Dad–”

“Do it for me.”

Willow sighs. “You’re not supposed to be talking.” Willow retorts

“I don’t have long.” Ice struggles to say.

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, little bird. You need this. They need you.”

“He’s not going to pick me, he’s going to choose Bradley like he always does.” Willow sighs.

Ice reaches up to cup Willow’s face, keeping her gaze on him. 

“Prove him wrong.”

“How do you always have a response?”

“Old age.” Ice chuckles. “Willow, I have always seen you like a daughter.”

“No, we're not talking like you’re dying.”

“Willow–”

“No. I can’t do that.”

“Remember when you first called me dad?”

“Yea, It was when I told you I was pregnant.” Willow chuckles.

“No, it was when you were begging for me to find Jake.”

“Right. Still that same day.” Willow chuckles softly.

“I have never been happier than the day my children were born. But the day you called me dad? It topped every moment in my life.” Ice smiled softly. “You are an amazing pilot and an even better daughter. I’m so happy to have been a part of your life and I am so proud of you.”

“No. Dad… you’re going to be okay. Please don’t leave me. I still need you.” Willow cries, falling into Ice’s hold. He says nothing but holds her close, stroking her hair as she cries. “I love you, dad.”

“I love you too.”

“Alright pumpkin, time for bed.” Jake carried Elle through the apartment to the small room setup for her.

“Where’s Mama?”

“Mama isn’t feeling well so it's just daddy for bedtime. Is that okay?” Jake sets the little girl down on her bed.

“Can you read me a story?”

“What’ll it be tonight? Cinderella? Rapunzel?” Jake asks, moving over to the stack of books on top of the dresser.

“Can you tell me about when you and Mama met?”

Jake chuckles. “You know I ruined Mama’s favorite hoodie? Ran right into her and my drink exploded onto her and that stain never came out.”

“Did you apologize?” Elle questions.

“About a million times. Your Mama is so beautiful that the minute I saw her I knew I wanted to marry her. But I was so nervous that she’d never talk to me again.” Jake sits on the edge of her bed. 

“But Mama loves you.” Elle says, climbing into Jake’s lap. 

“Not as much as she loves you. Mama is the most loving and caring person I ever met. And I will spend every day earning that love.”

“I love you Daddy.”

“I love you too, pumpkin.” Jake kisses her head, laying her back onto the bed. “Sleep tight, you have school tomorrow.”

“Good night.”

Tucking her in, Jake shuts the lights out and closes her bedroom door. “Little miss is asleep, we officially have a later start time. I think it's time for a little us time.” Jake says, walking over to the bed only to find Willow fast asleep, the streaks from her tears freshly dried on her cheeks. Jake smiles softly, pressing a kiss to her temple before crawling into bed beside her. Willow shifts as Jake pulls her back into his chest, his arm wrapped around her torso. “Good night darlin.”

“Time is your greatest enemy.” Maverick says from his position at the front of the room. "Phase one of the mission will be a low level attack with two teams." The aviator’s eyes follow the pattern on the screen, watching the swerving flight pattern. "You'll fly along this narrow canyon to your target. Radar guided surface to air missiles defend the sky area. These SAMs are lethal, but they were designed to protect the skies above, not the canyon below."

“That's because the enemy knows no one is insane enough to attempt to fly through it.” Rooster replies. He knows better. He knows there are at least 2 people in the room that are that insane and they’re related.

"That's exactly what I'm going to train you to do.”

Willow’s eyes widened, looking over to Jake. They knew the dangers of their job and they signed up anyway. Jake looked at her and knew exactly what was going through her mind. 

"Today, your altitude will be 100 feet, maximum. If you exceed this altitude, radar will spot you and you're dead. Your air speed will be 660 knots, minimum. Time to target is two and a half minutes." Willow and Phoenix lock eyes. "The time is two and half minutes because fifth generation fighters wait at an enemy air base nearby. In a head to head with these planes in your F-18s, you're dead. That's why you need to get in, hit your target, and be gone before these planes have a chance of catching you. This makes time your greatest enemy." The pilots are silent, the mission being completely different than they thought. "Today, we'll go easy on you. Max ceiling will be 300 feet, time to target will be three minutes. Suit up."

“Hey Phoenix!” Willow calls, running onto the Tarmac.

“What's up Vix?”

“Would you be able to pick Elle up from school during our lunch? She’s out at noon and Ice has another treatment today.”

“Absolutely! Am I bringing her on base or…?”

“Yea. Jake and I have a meeting with Cyclone to set up daycare for her so we’ll meet you in the parking lot when it's set up.”

“Gotcha. Yea it's not a problem. But I’m gonna spoil the shit outta her.” Phoenix laughs, leading Willow out to the jets. 

Willow is first in the air with Fanboy and Payback. 

“One minute and 30 seconds to target, we’re 10 seconds behind Vixen.” Fanboy calls out. 

“Alright, increasing speed to 490 knots.” Willow calls, increasing her speed. “Come on, come on.” Willow follows the curves almost perfectly.

“30 seconds to target, 2 seconds behind.” 

“Increasing to 500 knots.” As her speed increases she miscalculates a turn and suddenly flies off course and above their max altitude. She punches the side of her canopy. “Fuck.” She failed.

“Why did you fail?” Pete asks when they return to the classroom.

“I miss calculated a turn after increasing my speed because we were behind.” Willow answers.

“No, why is she dead?” Pete asks, looking at Fanboy and Payback. 

“We didn’t warn her about the sharp turns ahead when requesting an increase of speed.” Fanboy answers.

“What excuse do you think her family will take at the funeral?” Pete asks. “What are you gonna say when you have to look me dead in the face and tell me my daughter is dead?”

Fanboy and Payback’s eyes drop, mutters are heard about Willow being Pete’s daughter. Choosing to ignore them, she stops Pete.

“Maverick.” Willow calls out but Pete’s glare remains firm. “Captain Mitchell!” Pete looks at her. “That's enough.” She says. Pete finally moves on to Rooster’s group.

“Rooster, why are you dead?" He asks but Rooster doesn’t look up from the table. 

"Sir with all due respect, he was the only one to make it to the target." Phoenix jumps in, defending Rooster.

"A minute late. He gave the enemy aircraft time to shoot him down. He is dead." Maverick starts but Rooster speaks up.

“You don’t know that.” Rooster retorts

“You’re not flying fast enough. You don't have a second to waste.” Hangman groans.

“We made it to the target.” Rooster stands firm.

“And superior enemy aircraft intercepted you on your way out.”

"Then it's a dog fight," He says.

"Against 5th generation fighters?" Maverick questions, heating up.

“We still have a chance.”

“In an F-18?”

"It's not the plane, sir, it's the pilot." Rooster defends.

"Exactly!" Maverick shouts. Willow has to withhold her laughter. She had never heard Pete raise his voice to Bradley so she was thoroughly enjoying this. 

"There is more than one way to fly this mission." Rooster retorts.

"You really don't get it," Hangman says. "On this mission, a man flies like Maverick here or a man doesn't come back. No offense intended.” Hangman says to Phoenix. Willow elbows his side and Phoenix goes to say something but Bob pipes up.

“And yet somehow you always manage.”

“Look, I don’t mean to criticize. You’re conservative, that's all.”

“Lieutenant.” Pete tries to interrupt but Jake continues 

“We’re going into combat, son, on a level no living pilot’s ever seen. Not even him.” Hangman directs to Maverick at the last sentence before turning back to Rooster. “That’s no time to be thinking about the past.” Hangman smirks, looking over at Rooster.

"What's that support to mean?" Rooster asks, tearing his glare away from Maverick. 

“Rooster.” Pete warns.

“Jake.” Willow warns her husband.

"I can't be the only one that knew Maverick flew with his old man.” Hangman answers. 

“That's enough.” Pete interrupts but Jake continues.

“Or that Maverick was flying when his old man—” 

“Lieutenant, that's enough.”

“Jake, quit it.”

Hangman doesn’t finish the sentence before Rooster is shoving him out of his chair.

"You son of a bitch." Rooster growls. Everyone jumps up to stop them from attacking each other. Willow is standing beside Jake, a tight grip on his arm. 

“Hey, I’m cool. I’m cool.” Jake shakes off the other aviators but Willow’s grip stays firm.

Rooster tries to jump at him again but Bob, Phoenix, and Pete hold a tight grip on him. “That’s enough.” Pete repeats.

“He’s not cut out for this mission. You know it.” Hangman grins as Willow drags him out of the room. “You know I’m right.”

“You’re all dismissed,” is the last thing the couple hears before they are away from everyone.

“What the fuck was that?” Willow sneers.

“What?”

“Why the hell are you airing out dirty laundry? Let alone at work?” Willow questions

“You know I’m right, Willow. He’s not ready. He holds too many grudges.”

“So then I’m not ready either, right? I hold so many grudges against them both. Am I not ready for this mission too?”

“Willow. There's a difference between you and Rooster. You don't let your grudges affect your flying.” Jake says softly. “You are always my top choice for any mission.”

“You’re an ass, Jake Seresin.” Willow chuckles.

“You love me Willow Seresin.” Willow smiles, pulling Jake into a hug. 

“I absolutely do. I’m still mad at you.”

“Mama! Look what Auntie Nat got me!” Elle comes running from Phoenix’s car when she sees her mom.

“Look at that. Is that an F-18?” Willow questions, admiring the joy in her daughter’s eyes. 

“Just like what you and Daddy and Auntie Nat and Uncle Yote fly!” Phoenix laughs walking up to meet them

“That's right, baby girl.”

“I wanna fly like you! I wanna be cool like you and Daddy.” 

“I hope you always think you’re dad and I are cool.” Willow hugs her daughter before grabbing her hand. “Do you wanna see an actual F-18?” Elle nods quickly, jumping up and down as Willow leads the way.

“Are you sure that's a good idea? What if Mav or Rooster are around?”

“It's been 2 hours since we were dismissed, I doubt it.”

“Let's go Mama!” Elle starts pulling on Willow, her giggles echoing through the hallways.

“Ellorie! Stay with us please!” Willow shouts as the little girl takes off running.

“Oh, hey there little one.” Willow catches a glimpse of who Elle had just bumped into and groans. 

“Fantastic.” She mumbles under her breath. “Ellorie! I told you not to run off like that.”

“Sorry Mav. She’s a little ball of energy today.” Phoenix says.

“Let's go, Daddy’s waiting for us.” Willow leads Elle around Mav and out the door. “Look over there.” Willow points and Elle gets excited. 

“Daddy!”

“Hey, pumpkin! How was school?” Jake asks, lifting her up.

“Fun! We got to draw pictures of our family today!” 

“That's so fun! Did you have fun with Auntie Nat?” Jake questions walking towards the jets with Nat. Willow stays behind because she cant feel Mav behind her.

“You have a daughter?”

“Yea. You would know if you didn’t abandon me.” Willow scoffs.

“Willow please. You’re really gonna keep that little girl away from her grandfather?”

“She has grandfathers, Mav. And fortunately for her, neither of them would ever dream of abandoning her the way you did me.” Willow retorts.

“I’m sorry Willow. I don’t know what else you want me to say.” Pete apologizes.

“I want you to stay away from me and my family. I think you’ve done enough damage.” Willow says before walking away, interacting with her daughter who asks a million questions about the jets.

“Ellie bellie!”

“Uncle Yote!” 

Maverick watches how Jake and Willow interact, especially with each other and their daughter. As much as he thinks they are exactly what's needed for the mission, he can’t orphan his granddaughter. Or send his daughter to her possible death. If he sends both of them, it’ll be another generation resenting him. If he sends Jake, Willow will never forgive him if he doesn’t come back. And if he send Willow, well, he’s pretty sure Jake will murder him for sending the mother of his child to her death. But he still doesn’t think Rooster is ready. He’s at an impasse and doesn’t know what to do.

“School called. Campus is shut down due to a power outage.” Jake says, walking into the kitchen early Monday morning.

“Dammit. Mav is having us meet at the beach and there’s no one to watch Elle. Daycare is shut down for the week because all the workers caught the flu and Ice has appointments all day.”

“What about Penny?”

“She’s got the bar to run.”

“Hard Deck doesn’t open until 5, I’m gonna call Penny.”

Willow sighs. Working full time and having a 7 year old was not an easy feat. She knew that all too well now but balancing this life and keeping it away from her work life is becoming more difficult day by day.

“Penny said she’d be happy to watch her.”

“You okay Mama?” Elle asks, mouth full of her breakfast.

“I’m okay. Just a little stressed out.” Willow ruffles Elle’s hair as she walks by. “Finish eating.”

“Dress comfy! No uniforms!” Jake shouts, cleaning up the kitchen before he takes Elle to get ready. It's not long before they’re loaded up in Jake’s truck. 

“Alright, Elle. You need to behave for Ms Penny, okay?”

“You’re not gonna play with me?” Elle pouts and Jake quickly drops to her level.

“Mama and Daddy have some work stuff we gotta do first but we promise, as soon as we're done, it's gonna be a Seresin family beach day okay?” 

“Okay Daddy.” Jake and Willow packed up everything and got Ellorie into the car before heading straight to the Hard Deck.

“Hey! Why’s Elle here?” Phoenix questions, seeing the trio walk up.

“School canceled, daycare closed, and Ice and Sarah are busy. Penny said she’ll watch her while we do whatever and then we promise her a beach day after.” Willow explains.

“Auntie Nat! Are you gonna hang out at the beach with us?”

“Oh course I am! I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” 

“Oh my gosh! Ellorie! You’ve gotten so big!” Penny squeals walking over to the group.

“Hi Ms. Penny.” Elle smiles shyly. 

“Go on pumpkin. We’ll be back in a bit.” Elle waves to her parents as they walk towards the rest of the group.

Dogfight football was complicated to say the least even halfway through the game Willow did not understand a single rule about the game but everyone was having fun, cheering, getting along. Even her and Rooster had yet to butt heads all day. But Willow’s favorite part was her shirtless husband running forward to make a touchdown. Occasionally Willow and Jake would catch glimpses of Elle who would be cheering from the deck next to Penny. Everytime Jake or Willow scored a touchdown, Elle’s little cheers could be heard. 

When Penny had heard Mav dismiss everyone she sent Elle running across the beach.

“Mama! Daddy! Beach time?” Elle questions, running into Jake’s arms.

“Absolutely. In fact...” Jake trails off before taking off running towards the water, Elle screaming in his arms. Willow, Nat, and Coyote laugh as Jake plays with his daughter. Willow runs over and as soon as Elle is out of Jake’s arms Willow pushes him into the water. “Oh! I see how it is!” Jake grabs Willow’s ankle and trips her, catching her as she lands in the water with him. All three of them laugh as they play in the water.

“Did that kid call Hangman daddy?”

“Is that even Hangman?”

“He’s so relaxed.”

“Hangman and Vixen are a cute couple though.” Omaha says.

Halo gasps. “Do you think that's their kid?”

“Holy shit I totally see it.” Yale says to his friends. “Look at her. Spitting image of Hangman with Vixen’s nose. That's definitely a Vixman love child.”

“Vixman?” Phoenix asks, walking over to them. “What are you guys talking about?”

“Hangman and Vixen’s love child.”

“Hey Willow!” Phoenix calls and Willow comes walking up, Jake and Elle behind her.

“What's up?” Phoenix gestures to every who stares in awe of Elle.

“Okay.” Willow clears her throat. “Everyone, this is Jake’s and I’s daughter Ellorie. Elle, these are Mama and Daddy’s friends.” Elle waves softly, holding tight to her father.

“Holy shit dude! She’s like 10!”

“7 and watch your language.”

“Who knew Jake Hangman Seresin would settle down.”

“Oh and we got married 6 years ago.” Jake says. Immediately everyone is asking questions. Willow pulls Elle from the sand into her arms.

“So..” Bradley says, loitering around Willow.

“So…?” Willow replies, waiting for Bradley to continue. 

“You were pregnant through all that? When Hangman was MIA?”

“Yea.”

“And you two got married?”

“A year after she was born.” Willow says.

“Just didn’t want to tell anyone? I know your dad wasn’t there.”

“Papa was there.” Elle chimes in.

“Papa?” Rooster questions.

“Ice.” Bradley nods. 

“Look–”

“We don’t have to do this, Bradley.” 

“Do what?”

“Play catch up. You are still part of the reason my childhood was hell and I don't talk to Mav anymore. We can be civil when it comes to the mission but outside of that? Don’t bother.”  Willow walks away from him with Elle still in her arms. “Hey Jake. I’m gonna take Elle to the parlor down the beach.”

“Alright darlin, I’ll meet you down there okay?” Willow nods. “I’ll see you in a bit, pumpkin.”

“Bye Daddy.”

“Nat, tagging along?”

“I’m coming!”

"Good morning. The uranium enrichment plant that is your target will be operational earlier than expected. Raw uranium will be delivered to the plant in ten days time. As a result, your mission has been moved up one week in order to avoid contaminating the target valley with radiation." Willow's eyes widened, her lrft hand tightened its grip on her flight suit, knuckles turning white.

"Sir, no one here has successfully flown a low level course," Coyote is the first to speak up.

"Nevertheless, you've been ordered to move on." Admiral Bates steps aside to allow Maverick to go over the mission parameters.

Willow taps profusely on the desk before her. To anyone it would just look as if she was thinking but Jake knew better. It was an anxious tick he had noticed during flight school that seemed to pop up everywhere they went. Jake rests a hand on hers, attempting to settle her nerves.

"We have one week left to focus on phase two. It's the most difficult stage of the mission. It's a pop up strike with a steep dive, requiring nothing less than two consecutive miracles." He turned to the board behind him, the screen showing what their planes would do as he spoke. "Two pairs of  F-18s will fly in a welded wing formation. Teamwork. Precise coordination of these aircraft is essential to both the mission's success and your survival," Maverick says. "As you know, the plant rests between two mountains. On final approach you'll invert directly into a steep dive. This allows you to maintain the lowest possible altitude at the only possible attack angle. Your target is an impact point less than three meters wide. The two seated aircraft will paint the target with a laser bullseye. The first pair will breach the reactor by dropping a laser-guided bomb on an exposed ventilation hatch. This will create an opening for the second pair. That's miracle number one."

Willow's breathing halts at the thought, everything that could go wrong running through her mind. But most is the possible orphaning of her daughter.

"The second team will deliver the kill shot and destroy the target. That's miracle number two," Maverick continued. "If either team misses the target, the mission is a failure. Egress is a steep, high G climb out to avoid hitting this mountain."

"A steep climb at this speed, you're pulling at least eight G's," Jake thinks aloud.

"Nine, minimum," Maverick corrected.

"The stress limit of the F-18's airframe is seven point five," Rooster tells them.

"That's the accepted limit. To survive this mission, you'll pull beyond that. Even if it means bending your airframe. You'll be pulling so hard you'll weigh close to 2000 pounds. Your skull crushing your spine, your lungs imploding like an elephant sitting on your chest," Maverick described. "Fighting with everything you have just to keep from blacking out. This is where you'll be at your most vulnerable. This is coffin corner. Assuming you avoid crashing into this mountain, you'll climb straight up into the enemy radar, while losing your air speed. Within seconds you'll be fired upon by enemy SAMs. You've all faced sustained G's before, but this is going to take you and your aircraft to the breaking point."

"Sir, is this even achievable?" Phoenix asks.

"The answer to the question will come down to the pilot in the box."

Willow exits the room. She can feel the shudders from her heavy breathing as she exits the room.

“Willow.” She keeps walking, trying to find an empty room before she breaks down. “Darlin please, slow down.”

She opens the door to an empty classroom and leans against the closest desk.

“Darlin?” Jake questions, entering mere seconds after her. “Darlin, you gotta breathe.” Slowly Willow’s breathing calms, the tears subside and sits in the closest chair, no longer trusting her legs to keep her up. “What's wrong?”

“I don't think I can do this mission.” Willow sighs.

“Are you kidding? Willow you are the best pilot in that room. If anyone can do it, it's you.”

“I’m sure Jake but,” Willow sighs. “I can’t go on this mission and risk Elle growing up without her mother. Or both of us going on this mission and her becoming an orphan. I can’t do that Jake. I can’t subject her to what I had.”

“No one would ever let that happen. I can promise you that.” Jake comforts. “When we go on this mission, because I know we will, we are both coming home to our little girl. I would never dare let anything happen to her.”

“That's a miss. Bring it back in, Vixen.”

“Dammit.”

“Hey don’t sweat it, Vix. We’ll get it.” Fanboy tries to encourage.

Willow sighs, heading back to base. She lays on the couch in the middle of the lounge, her head resting on Jake’s thigh. Jake runs his fingers through her hair, pulling the Navy regulated bun out so he can ease the tension he knows she has in her head. They listen in on Phoenix, Bob, and Coyote’s trial. Willow lays on her side facing the radio they had moved to the coffee table. Jaka softly massages her scalp when they suddenly hear Mav calling for Coyote but no response.

“Holy shit.” Willow sits up quickly, her gaze burning into the radio.

“Come on Coyote.” Jake mutters leaning forward. Everyone holds their breath as they wait for the sign that Coyote was okay. Once they get the all clear they settle down, thankful that what they thought was the worst was over. That was until the bird strike and then they heard Phoenix and Bob eject.

Willow refused to move from the couch. They had been dismissed over an hour ago but Willow refused to leave until she got an update on her best friend and WSO.

“I’m gonna go pick up Elle, darlin. I’ll be back, alright?” Willow nods, fiddling with the zipper of her flight suit that is now tied around her waist, flight gear abandoned on the floor.

It wasn’t even 30 minutes later that Mav had walked in, giving the update to her before leaving the room. With the knowledge that both Phoenix and Bob were okay, she gathered her gear and began the walk to the locker room. She deposits everything into her locker, changing into her civilian clothes and exits the locker room, heading for the parking lot to meet Jake and Elle. She is almost there when she hears Warlock call for her.

“Lieutenant Commander Seresin!’ Willow turns at the call, face dropping when she sees the sorrowful look on Admiral Bates’s face.

“What happened?” She questions.

“It's Admiral Kazansky. He’s passed. I’m sorry for your loss.” Willow froze in the statement. She tries to process the information but all she manages to do is drop to her knees and cry. Jake comes running through the door with Elle in his arms.

“Hey darlin, it's okay. I’m here.” Jake kneels next to his wife, both him and Elle wrapping Willow a group hug.

“It’s okay, Mama.” Elle whispers. “Papa isn’t hurting anymore.”

Willow pulls back and places a hand on Elle’s cheek. “When did my little girl get so smart?” Elle giggles at the act, wrapping her arms around Willow’s neck and holding her mom close. Willow cried softly as she held her daughter, Jake still knelt beside them, holding both close.

Despite how upset Willow was, she couldn’t deny that the service was perfect. Willow, Jake, and Elle had been asked to stand with Sarah and her and Ice’s 2 children, Jackson and Elizabeth. And despite her protests, that's exactly where Willow found herself.

Jake and Willow were in their service dress blues. Ellorie stood between them in a simple black dress, clutched tightly to her father’s leg.

Cyclone walked up to Sarah with the folded flag and attempted to hand it to her. It shocked Willow when she refused and directed him down the line. 

Jack and Lizzie who had been the best aunt and uncle to Ellorie had gone to their mother the day before suggesting that they don’t receive the flag. They both knew that their father loved them unconditionally but he always held a soft spot for his honorary first granddaughter. 

Everyone who previously knew about Ellorie and heard story after story from Ice over the years. So when Sarah gave Cyclone a look. He knew exactly where the flag was going. Jack and Lizzie smile through their tears as the admiral walks past them, knowing their father was smiling down on them.

Cyclone kneels before Ellorie, who was still wrapped around Jake’s leg, and holds the flag out to the little girl. Willow tries to fight back her sobs at the action. Elle gently takes the flag from him as he speaks.

“On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Navy and a grateful nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one’s honorable and faithful service.” Cyclone stands and salutes the flag before returning to his post. 

Willow watches as Maverick punches Iceman’s wings into the casket. As they set up for the 21 gun salute, Willow reaches down to pick up Elle. Jake takes the flag from his daughter so Willow could hold her, muffling the shots fired.

Before long the service was over and everyone started heading back to their cars. As Sarah goes to leave, Willow catches her.

“We can’t take this, Sarah. It goes to the family.”

“You are family, sweetheart. He would’ve wanted you to have it.” Sarah smiles. Elle reaches out to her grandma, Sarah pulls her over and hugs her, kissing her head before setting her down. “Besides, the kids wanted Elle to have it. They got a lifetime of love from him, they figured Elle deserved a piece of her papa as much as they do.”

Tears well in her eyes at the information before being pulled into a hug. “I love you, Sarah.”

“I love you too sweetheart.” 

Sarah walks towards the car where Jack and Lizzie already wait.

Jake leads his family to the car, Willow stumbles still lost in her emotions and Elle rests her head on her father’s shoulder as he carries her, already fast asleep.

“Let's get you both home.” Jake smiles softly after everyone is buckled into the car. He rubs small circles into Willow’s hand for the entirety of the drive. 

This past week was taking its toll of Willow. Between the mission and losing the man she saw as a father, Jake knew she wasn’t okay. But Willow still played it off. When they got home, Jake carried Elle to her bedroom while Willow sat on the couch, pulling out every copy she had of the flight plans and mission details she had, burying herself into the mission.

Jake did their nightly cleaning and made sure everything was locked up and away before he spoke.

“Darlin, let's go to bed.” He says softly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders over the back of the couch.

“Just a few more minutes.”

“You’ve been staring at these papers for over an hour.” Jake sighs, massaging her shoulders to make her see she needs to rest. “We have an early morning.”

“I’ll be up in a bit Jake. You go on ahead.” Reluctantly, Jake made his way to their bedroom. He tried to stay up until she came in but he fell asleep waiting. And when he woke the next morning to Willow’s side of the bed was still neatly made, he knew she never came in. Walking out, he finds Willow asleep on the couch, papers strewn left and right.

He drapes the throw blanket from the back of the couch over her before heading to wake up Elle and get her ready for the day. They didn’t have to be at work until 9 so Jake lets her sleep. Once Elle was ready he took her out for a Daddy daughter breakfast.

“Is Mama okay?” Elle questions.

“She’ll be okay, pumpkin. She just misses Papa a lot.” Jake answers the little girl. Elle had become more observant the older she got. 

“I miss him too.” Elle says softly, picking up a piece of fruit from her plate.

“Me too. Finish your breakfast. We're gonna be late for school.”

When Jake arrived back home to pick up Willow, she was barreling through the house trying to get ready.

“Where were you?” Willow asks, buttoning her khaki shirt.

“Took Elle to breakfast before school. Are you ready?”

“Yea, lemme grab my phone.” 

“Vixen! A word.” Willow turns to see Maverick walking up to her. Jake goes to stand in front of her but she stops him.

“It's fine, I’ll see you in there.” Jake nods walking inside.

“I need a favor.”

“Mav—“

“I need you to run the course by yourself.”

“I haven’t even completed it as a team. What makes you think I wanna run it by myself?” Willow questions.

“They canned me Willow. You are the only person in there that I know can do this mission and should lead it.”

“I can’t—“

“Please, Willow.” She looks through the windows of the doors leading into the classroom just as Admiral Simpson begins speaking.

"Captain Mitchell is no longer your instructor. As of today there are new mission parameters," Admiral Simpson tells everyone as they lean forward paying more attention. Phoenix leans over to Jake.

“Where’s Willow?”

“Maverick pulled her outside.”

"Time to target is now four minutes." Everyone looks around to each other, shocked. There was no way anyone was coming back alive if the time to target was four minutes, and they all knew it. "You'll be entering the valley level at reduced speed, not to exceed 420 knots."

"Sir, won't we be giving enemy aircraft a chance to catch up to us?" Phoenix questioned.

"You have a better fighting chance against enemy aircraft than you do surviving a head-on collision with a mountain," the admiral answered. "You will be attacking the target from a higher altitude, level with the north wall." Just as Admiral Bates continued, everyone’s eyes were drawn to the screen, a beeping came through as two single F-18s fly towards the course.

"Vixen to range control, entering point alpha, confirm green range.”

“Oh fuck.” Bradley mutters leaning forward.

"Range control to Vixen. Uhh, green range is confirmed, but I don't see an event scheduled for you.”

"I’m still going.” Willow calls out.

"Nice," Phoenix mumbled.

"Setting time to target to two minutes and fifteen seconds," Willow said. The previously set time changed and everyone grew more anxious.

"That's impossible," Fanboy calls out just loud enough for everyone to hear.

"Vixen is inbound," she says, crossing the starting point.

The time starts and everyone watches on the edge of their seats as the Willow swerved through the course, on her own. “One minute and 35 seconds, coming up on pop up.” Willow calls out.

She immediately began the incline before performing the inverted dive. 

"Bombs away," Willow says, begining her climb out. “Bullseye!” She cheers as she sees impact. Inside the hanger everyone is cheering

By the time she reached the top she was already pulling 9.5 Gs and slowly leveling out, pulling Willow back in as she was close to G-lock. Once she was level the timer stopped. 16 seconds left on the clock. 

“That's my girl.” Jake smiles at the screens that document everything about the trial.

Dressed in their whites, Jake and Willow walk into the Hard Deck with Elle beside them. Normally they would never bring her into a bar but with Penny taking Elle during the mission and this being the last night with their friends beforehand.

“Hey there's my favorite niece!” Coyote meets them at the door, lifting Elle from the ground and walking her towards the pool tables.

“I’m going to get some beers.” Willow tells Jake before walking to where the team was. She had been reprimanded for her stunt that previous day but Cyclone saw exactly what Maverick wanted him to see. Willow was the right choice to lead this mission and actually agreed.

“Hey, 2 beers?” Penny asks as Willow walks up to the bar.

“Yes.” Penny reaches down to grab Willow’s and Jake’s regular, opening them up. “Hey, thanks for watching Elle for us. I don’t know what we’d do without you.”

“It takes a village to raise a child in the military. Fortunately for you, you have a whole armada.” Penny points to the group and Willow looks over to see Coyote helping Elle play pool against Jake, everyone cheering when she sinks the 8-ball. Willow smiles watching how excited Elle is as Jake throws her into the air, catching her, celebrating her win.

“Yea. Listen, if tomorrow doesn’t go as planned–”

“You can’t talk like that Willow.”

“If it happens, make sure she goes to Jake’s family. I don’t need Mav doing to her what he did to me.” Willow finishes.

“Your father has grown a great deal since 1997.” Penny informs.

“My father has not proven that to me. I trust you with my life Pen, but I can’t trust him.”

“I understand. But I will be seeing you tomorrow after this mission.”

“Thanks Pen.” Willow carries the beers over, passing one to her husband.

“Hey darlin, Elle just beat at her first game of pool.” Jake tells her.

“Of course she did. Just like her mama. She will never lose to daddy.” She says to Elle, winking at Jake before walking over to where Phoenix and Bob sat.

“So team leader, you got an idea of who your team is?” Phoenix asks.

“If I did I couldn’t tell you. But I wouldn’t go anywhere without my wingman.” Willow smiles at her best friend.

“So who’s gonna be your second?” Jake asks, Elle now playing pool with Coyote.

“Jake–”

“I get it, someone’s gotta come home to Elle.” Jake replies. “I’d do the same thing in your position.”

“If we didn’t have her, I would choose you in a heartbeat. I trust no one more. You are back up though”

“I’ll take it.” Jake smiles.

“Hangman being okay as back up? Never thought I’d live to see the day.” Phoenix laughs.

“Hey, you already know I would do anything for my girls.” Jake kisses Willow’s temple before walking over to play darts.

“Any idea who your second is?” Bob asks.

“No. I think I’m going to decide on the boat tomorrow.”

“Think hard, Vixen. Lives are on the line.”

The Dagger squad stayed until the late hours of the night. Elle had fallen asleep hours ago and slept peacefully in a booth Penny had set up as a bed. Around 1 am, Penny had closed all tabs and cleaned up before meeting Willow and Jake at her car. They had already gotten Elle buckled in and back to sleep after saying their goodbyes to the sleepy girl.

“We can’t ever thank you enough Penny.”

“You guys coming home safely will be thank you enough. Good luck.”

“Thanks Pen.” The couple retreats to their own vehicle, climbing in and heading home.

They held each other a little closer that night as they slept, mentally preparing themselves for the next day.

[spicykaraage]

Tenipuri Complete Character Profile - Kunimitsu Tezuka

[PROFILE]

Birthday: October 7th (Libra)

Blood Type: O

Relatives: Grandfather (Kunikazu Tezuka), Father (Kuniharu Tezuka), Mother (Ayana Tezuka)

Father’s Occupation: Company Employee (trading company, his grandfather was a judo instructor for the police force)

Elementary School: Seishundai First Elementary School

Middle School: Seishun Academy Junior High School

Grade & Class: Third Year | Class 3-1 | Seat 12

Club: Tennis Club (Captain)

Committee: Student Council (President)

Strong Subjects: World History

Weak Subjects: None

Frequently Visited Spot at School: Library

World Cup Team: U-17 World Cup German Representatives

Favorite Motto: “The enemy is within oneself.”

Daily Routines: Writing in his diary

Hobbies: Mountain climbing, camping, fishing

Favorite Color: Green or Blue

Favorite Music: Classical (Beethoven)

Favorite Movie: Famous classics whether Japanese or foreign

Favorite Book: Foreign books ➜ German-Japanese dictionary (he carries it around with him) [23.5]

Favorite Food: Unacha (broiled eel over rice with dashi poured over it), räucheraal (German smoked eel) [23.5]

Favorite Anniversary: August 23rd

Preferred Type: A girl who tries her best in everything (even if she’s a bit scatterbrained), a serious but cheerful person [PP] ➜ He tries not to think about it now [23.5]

Ideal Date Spot: Fishing in a stream near a mountain ➜ Zugspitze [23.5]

His Gift for a Special Person: A letter of gratitude

Where He Wants to Travel: Machu Picchu and Huayna Picchu

What He Wants Most Right Now: A photobook of famous mountains across the world ➜ Mountain diorama kit [23.5]

Dislikes: Laziness, colorful cakes [23.5]

Skills Outside of Tennis: Woodworking, preparing fish [23.5]

Spends Allowance On: Books

Routine During the World Cup: Keeping a diary in German, watching foreign comedy dramas

[DATA]

Height: 179cm

Weight: 58kg ➜ 61kg [23.5]

Shoe Size: 27.5cm

Dominant Arm: Left

Vision: (With glasses) 1.5 Left & Right

Play Style: All-Rounder

Signature Moves: Drop Shot, Zero-Shiki Drop Shot, Selfless State, Pinnacle of Hard Work, Pinnacle of Great Wisdom, Pinnacle of Perfection [23.5], Tezuka Zone, Tezuka Phantom, Zero-Shiki Serve

Number of Laps He Runs in a Year: 5,870

Favorite Brands:

Racket: MIZUNO (PRO LIGHT S90) MAGNETIC TOUR 100

Shoes: MIZUNO (WAVE DUAL LIGHT <6K93009>)

Fitness Test Results:

Side Steps: 63

Shuttle Run: 121

Back Strength: 131kg

Grip Strength: 55.5kg (left)

Backbend: 60.8cm

Seated Forward Bend: 29.1cm

50m Run: 6.43 seconds

Standing Long Jump: 241cm

Handball Throw: 37.1m

Endurance Run (1500m): 4:39

Overall Rating: Speed: 4.5 / Power: 4 / Stamina: 4 / Mental: 5 / Technique: 6 / Total: 23.5

Kurobe Memo: “I obviously intended for him to thrive as a First Stringer, but unfortunately he withdrew. It’s only a matter of time before he reaches the top level of the professional ranks.” [RB]

[POSSESSIONS]

What’s in His Bedroom [10.5]:

Lure collection // A collection of lures neatly arranged hanging on his wall, he likes using his lures as decorations

Photo of a mountain he’s climbed // He had it printed extra large and hung it on his wall. Seeing it calms him

Small locker // A locker for storing his fishing rods and equipment. The doors are glass so the contents can always be viewed

Dresser // He always has his school uniforms neatly folded and placed on top

Bookshelves and a boombox // His only objects of entertainment, he has a considerable amount of books in his possession

What’s in His Bag [10.5]:

Glasses case // He is protective over his glasses and handles them with care

Notebook // He writes an extensive amount of notes for each of his classes and keeps it with him for review

Omamori // He’s kept it with him since he was little. He’s not a religious person, so it’s kept more out of habit

A (foreign) novel // The Big Bad City by Ed McBain. He likes foreign stories and reads them often since they help him learn English

Reference book // He reads it on the bus to and from school

Wristband // He has several different kinds and changes them each day depending on his mood

English-Japanese dictionary // Used to look up words he doesn’t understand when reading foreign books

Spray-on deodorant // Gatsby brand. He hates uncleanliness and always uses it after sweating in matches. He buys five bottles a month

What’s in His Travel Bag [23.5]:

Japanese tea // Siegfried had snuck into his bag and tried some of it

[TRIVIA]

The Prince of Tennis 10.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 11/02/2001

He likes outdoor activities since they help relieve his stress. He feels that nature heals him

He is actually always tense and nervous about guiding the club members

His favorite mountain is the Matterhorn. His father had taken him to climb it when he was a fourth year in elementary school

He is described to have sharp and fine facial features

Since entering middle school, he has not lost in any official or practice matches

No one else in the Seigaku Tennis Club matches his level

He has trouble looking upward to the right since his hair blocks his view

He gives very terse responses when asked personal questions

He dislikes flirtatious girls and prefers someone as serious as himself. He is currently not interested in romance, however

Despite how skilled he currently is as a player, he was not good at tennis when he first started

When asked if he’s afraid of anything, his reponse is that people cannot grow if they don’t have fears

He is the only member of Seigaku who does not call any of the other members by their nicknames

Konomi states that the editorial staff like to uphold Tezuka’s serious and stoic image despite what he thinks

His personality is described as someone who thinks before he acts and is so perfect that even his friends envy him

His name and appearance is based off of Kunikaze Tezuka, a character in Konomi’s other manga series COOL

Konomi describes him as “strong overall” and considered number one. He had been created since at the time, it was rare to see a character much stronger than the protagonist be on the same team

He and Momoshiro were the first Seigaku members Konomi had created

The Prince of Tennis 20.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2003

It is stated that in a previous life, he was an explorer. He is described to have never stayed in the same place, and always moved forward with a desire to improve. He had lived in extreme situations where failure meant death, and was said to be calm, collected and always prepared for every possible situation

He has always been somewhat mature and sensitive to beautiful things since he was younger

He is very self-disciplined, independent and has a personal set of rules for himself

He is described to be suited for professions such as starting his own business by himself or being a novelist

He is an honors student

His secondary sport would be kyudo

He is the character Konomi would like to go up against if he were in the series

His injury and departure was to initiate Seigaku’s growth without him. Since he was their strongest member and final trump card, Konomi felt that there was no sense of urgency in them losing and wanted to emphasize the whole team’s changes by the time he returned

The Prince of Tennis 40.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 12/04/2007

He writes in his diary to record his daily efforts as well as take time to analyze himself. It is a custom he’s set to identify his weaknesses and continuously improve himself

His I Ching Hexagrams are 1. Qián and 13. Tóng Rén respectively

He often makes (unnoticed) efforts in order to facilitate his relationships, such as forcing himself to socialize and/or subtly trying to lighten the mood of situations

He actually has a side to him that gets lonely easily and dislikes being in dark places

He has surprisingly gotten into comedy programs. He’s recently been watching “The Battle of Big Eaters” and actually really enjoyed the “Yakiniku Battle” in Genius 341

He is currently unsure who will be the next captain (it is eventually revealed to be Kaidoh)

He is the second character Konomi has the least in common with, the first being Ryoma

Konomi states he would like to form a doubles pair with him and be able to perform his Tezuka Zone and Tezuka Phantom

Konomi had wanted to depict Tezuka having great difficulty during his match against Kabaji

He is described to “not do doubles” by Konomi, which is why he had played one-on-one against Chitose during their doubles match. However, Konomi states he may team up with Ryoma in Wimbledon someday

Konomi states Tezuka will most likely be seen in Germany sometime in the future

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 1 | Publication Date: 11/04/2009

Mizuki claims to have seen him smiling while writing in his diary

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 2 | Publication Date: 12/04/2009

When asked what he pays attention to when leading the club, he replies with everything, but self-management and discipline being a top priority

He finds being captain to be difficult, but believes the club members would be fine without him

He finds nature healing but also enjoys the interactions he receives when mountain climbing

He does not believe in having a full day off but states if he had one, he would read in his bedroom or go fishing with his grandfather now and then

When asked about his special skill, woodworking, he states it’s come in handy when making racket racks

He is described as being a “leader” type captain

His keyword for leading the club is “discipline”

When an issue arises in the club, he writes about it in his diary and seeks solutions

Currently what weighs on his mind the most is instilling talent and confidence in the first years

He finds members who are talented but don’t show passion are the most difficult to handle

He would like a computer, projector or humidifier for the club room

If he were able take all of the club members on a trip, it would be to Mount Fuji

His favorite sports besides tennis are fishing, skiing and mountain climbing

The people he holds in the highest regard are his father and grandfather

When asked about the story behind his family name, he refuses to answer and states it’s a personal matter between him and his family

He is unsure if he’s good at cooking, but states he tries to do what he can. A dish he is able to make is eel kabayaki

His favorite drink is water/mineral water

He prefers rice over bread

When asked about the possibility of a past life, he replies that the concept is not scientifically proven and therefore is unable to answer

When asked if uses a hair dryer, he replies he does not

He gets confused and slightly irritated after being asked irrelevant questions in his interview

Since meeting Kawamura’s father, the latter often compares his son to him

Kikumaru has agreed that he does not look the same age as the others

Konomi had him wear glasses to give him the image of a perfect and disciplined man

His catchphrase “don’t let your guard down” was created to give him the image that he’s humble and tough on himself, especially during his serves

Tezuka’s special moves were created to express his power to dominate the court

Konomi states that when he draws him, he is careful to add in a touch of warmth within his strictness

One of His School Days:

5:30am - Wakes up, has breakfast after stretching and strength training

6:30am - Listens to an English lesson on the radio

8:40am - 1st Period: Social Studies (world history)

9:40am - 2nd Period: Calligraphy

11:00am - 3rd Period: Math III

12:00pm - 4th Period: Music (classical lesson)

12:50pm - Lunch, unacha (bento)

1:20pm - 5th Period: PE (hurdles)

2:20pm - 6th Period: Science III (physics)

3:20pm - Summarizes a Student Council proposal report

4:00pm - Club activities, free practice

7:00pm - Returns home, bathes

7:30pm - Dinner

8:00pm - Watches a recording of “The Battle of Big Eaters” on the TV

9:00pm - Reads (mostly foreign books)

9:30pm - Writes in his diary, reflects on himself and the day

10:30pm - Goes to bed

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 5 | Publication Date: 03/04/2010

He is shown holding back laughter after watching Koharu and Amane’s comedy skit

The Prince of Tennis II Official Character Guide: PairPuri Vol. 6 | Publication Date: 06/03/2011

He, Fuji and Kikumaru are shown having a chat with Yamato

The Prince of Tennis II 10.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 09/04/2013

He can speak German

He recently bought a new pair of climbing boots and is wondering which mountain to climb next

Konomi states he will still be prevalent in the series despite moving to Germany

The Prince of Tennis II 23.5 Fanbook | Publication Date: 05/02/2018

Franksteiner helps teach him German

He is well-accepted by most of the German team, has a strong sense of camaraderie and wants to lead them to victory

He had intended to become a professional since he was seven years old

He had gotten into tennis when his father gifted him a racket when he was younger

Konomi states he is not the type to do any club activities half-heartedly

The Prince of Tennis 20th Anniversary Book: Tenipuri Party | Publication Date: 08/02/2019

He was initially hesitant about joining team Germany, but ultimately decided on it since it was necessary in becoming a professional

He enjoys the intense training with Volk

He felt that playing against his former teammates would be difficult to do at first, but then became excited about it. He states that fighting as allies is not the only way to improve themselves, and believes facing each other can provide new growth

He quickly adjusted to life in Germany and likes how disciplined it is, more so than Japan

He enjoys browsing secondhand bookstores and attending classical concerts (when time and money allow) during his off days in Germany

He states that while he has not mastered the German language yet, he is also able to communicate with facial expressions

He has known Sanada since they were younger due to their grandfathers being friends and former coworkers

[gumspine]

HELLO this is horrendously late work was kicking my ass but YES i'm juice and i'll be writing for jung namoo! he's a 22 y/o production assistant/audiovisual technician (yes they still exist) (i like to imagine that it's a bit of a simultaneously hyperfuturistic but also a thing of the past type paradox that namoo precisely loves) + he's also part of the glitched-out subplot as moneybags!

linking namoo's profile + wip plots page for easy access and there's more abt him under the cut, but b4 i get into it: if you'd like to plot, please like this post and i'll msg you <3

BACKGROUND

family: parents were low level but pioneering programmers for iron fist! which would've been well and good if they hadn't gotten themselves embroiled in betting on matches/tournaments to the extent that they would tamper with code or collude with fighters to win bets. orbit found out and suddenly mom and pops were "volunteering" to "work" in the outer world

namoo and his older brother (gureum) were 9 and 12 at the time; guardianship went to a family relative who squandered their parents' payouts liberally. namoo and gureum tolerated it for a bit, but eventually found a good chance to run off w/ what little money was left and live in the belt by themselves

spent his teens doing odd jobs and gigs, picked up a lot of skills along the way. procedural learner and is what one wld describe as being good with his hands

in light of the above ^ he opted for vocational training instead of university! financially it was also the most practical choice. got introduced to PA work by an instructor he had at vocational school, and he follows orders well enough to be delegated miscellaneous grunt work around set without worry. eventually wiggles his way up to actual PA tasks, w/c is where he also picked up a lot of his initial av tech knowledge!

decides to stick to tv/film/event production by the time he's 20, and currently has trade certifications on electronics/communication systems, audiovisual tech, modern media + three-quarters of a term in event management (this is namoo pretty much)

currently still project-based/freelance, but he's rarely out of a gig because he's got that head-down no-complaints hardworking reliability that cost-cutting bosses just luuuv (it's a capitalist corporatocratic world after all)

(ok but seriously he's cultivated a rep for like. being helpful and having initiative and needing little supervision to get stuff done so it follows that he always gets called on whenever production/event companies need PA/tech help!)

PERSONALITY

at a glance: u can immediately tell he's the youngest child/baby brother bc he's very. cutesy and affectionate? loves to tease and be a lil gremlin

despite his boyish tendencies, he's far from immature. brother raised him using their parents and relatives as cautionary tales (in the sense that they sucked as human beings lol) so he grew up a decent kid, if a bit of a doormat

carries himself well on the outside but deep down he has pretty much internalized the prejudice he's experienced due to living in the belt and being poor so his self-esteem is six feet in the mud. not in a wallowy self-pitying sense but like. his instinct is to make himself small and take up as little space as possible. also of the thinking that if he's treated badly he should just put up with it because who is he to complain? he's nobody

growing up his mindset has shaped up to prioritize survival over pride so if self-esteem has to take a backseat it'll take a backseat

his glitch (moneybags, aka he gets unlimited merits for an hour if he claps under a very specific circumstanceㅡw/c he's unaware of! so it isn't something he can intentionally replicate yet) has also put him in a tough spot w/ authorities before (basically he thought the amt of money in his acct wasn't real and just went around clicking "buy" on a bunch of stuff... sorry he was 13... anyway yeah the transactions went through. cue police sirens bc what is a boy from the belt doing w/ that much money)

managed to evade interrogation/escalation by the skin of his teeth thnx to his big bro but like! ya boy is traumatized indefinitely. hates coming across/potentially talking to the terra equivalent of law enforcement or authorities

not to mention that their relatives (to a certain degree aware that their parents were virtual-deathed (?) bc things went sideways with orbit and their gambling) used to taunt namoo abt receiving the same punishment for any little thing so

he has actually accidentally triggered the glitch twice more after that first instance, though he's handled those two times a lot better and with more tact! thnx again in part to his bro so he's not as terrified of his glitch as he initially was. used it to pay the bills and purchase a couple other stuff LMAO but he still gets anxious around authority though

he's also a bit of a conspiracy theorist because he's well-aware that glitches can exist! he's proof of it! doesn't go so far as to interact w/ the tinhat community but he reads the posts n forums... has a bit of a vested interest as well in like. people being sent to the outer world via virtual death against their will because of what may or may not have happened 2 his parents (he doesn't rlly know the truth yet)

sidenote: even though iron fist is somewhat entwined w/ the way his childhood has tumbled downhill, he still luvs the game (as an audience; he can't play for the life of him) and luvs being part of the tech team for iron fist events/tournaments bc it was a big part of like. being a teen in the belt and just having this outlet regardless of how tough life was

MISC

very much artistically inclined, which is why he was initially drawn to tv/film PA work! my 31st century tech lore is that production sets use hyper-realistic life-scale "holographic" projections instead of props or shooting on location which! def sucks for propmasters and authenticity but like. even though this world is virtual and crazy advanced and the sky's the limit, it would still take a creative eye to make beautiful things! u could have the tools but w/o that human touch it wouldn't quite be the same. so he's out here sticking it out as that should-be-a-thing-of-the-past human aspect to a creative endeavor that has endured literal millennia. even though ofc it prolly has changed a lot from our time

his work is predominantly on the technical side but he's interested and has a knack for design! specifically w/ holography as the medium. one of the stuff he probably bought w/ his glitch money is the holography version of a wacom tablet

one day would love to lean into that and pick up design as his main fare but for now he earns steadily with PA/av tech work and he's really quite good at it to the point that he's kind of moving up in the world a little? so he's content! not to mention all the backstage perks of getting to work iron fist gigs lol he's just a boy fr

has had the opportunity to be additional tech help with both of last year's iron fist majors so he's hoping he'll get called on to that gig again 🤞

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS

ppl he grew up with in the the belt, roommates (they were able to move out of the belt eventually so he currently lives in a megabuilding! give him roomies he's super neat and considerate 💙 though downside is that he snores like a cartoon character), celebs he's either had the pleasure or displeasure of working with, iron fist folks (staff, fighters, maybe people whose parents knew his parents?), fellow tinfoil hat wearers, whatever it is let's write it!

[the-darkness-does-not-bargain]

Here we are, at last, chapter 11! Now going forward, I will try my very best not to leave you guys hanging for another five months. To make up for it, I included a little something extra for you over on the ao3 side. I hope you like it 💕💕

////

Transfigurations 12:1

"O Maker, hear my cry:

Guide me through the blackest nights.

Steel my heart against the temptations of the wicked.

Make me to rest in the warmest places."

Now that you've made the decision to try negotiating with the rebels, things begin moving at a rapid pace.  Josephine starts working her magic, sending messenger hawks with one hand and penning orders with the other.  Dora focuses her efforts on arranging troops throughout the Hinterlands, guarding the roads and protecting the refugees in case the Templars try to attack.  Mother Superion sends Scout Harding back to work with her best spies to infiltrate Redcliffe and gather intel before your arrival.

Within Haven's walls, the people aren't resting either.  Construction on the siege weapons continues from dawn until dusk, and an ever-growing number of soldiers train in shifts out in the cold.

Lilith doesn't try to ambush you with training again.  In fact, she seems to be avoiding you, leaving the position of instructor open to Beatrice once again.  She doesn't try to hit you with sticks, but she does gently reassert the Seeker’s point about your fitness level.

"We'll start simple," she says, greeting you in a set of warm fatigues rather than her usual robes.  Fortunately, unlike Lilith, she does you the basic courtesy of letting the sun rise before waking you.  Unfortunately, “simple” turns out to mean jogging laps around the frozen lake, which nearly does you in before you've even begun.

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

wiGilki /wˈiːɡˈɪlki/ : (a) professor

Dominative. Positive Agent. Present tense. Formal.

📖 Definition & Synonyms

→ Definition: Someone who listens to something and then repeats it out loud to more people for money. → Synonyms: teacher, tutor, instructor

🗨️ Example Usage

→ Romanised: 'WiGilki... N-una nelsha roji.. nelshh-o una?' → English: 'Professor… we did good… didn't we?' → Audio:

→ Sollifreyan Font (v1):

🧩 Modifiers

→ Negative: wiGilki-o (not a professor) → Plural: wiGilki-ua (professors) → Nominal gendered: wiGilki[mo/po/zo] (professor(name))

🔍 Advanced

Etymology and Morphological Breakdown

Wi (Dominative Prefix): This prefix indicates strength or dominance.

Gil (Root): Derived from "gil," meaning "to teach."

Ki (Agent Suffix): A common suffix used to denote agents.

Usage and Additional Notes

Conceptualisation of 'wiGilki': The term "wiGilki" specifically refersto a strong, experienced, and authoritative teacher. It differentiates from "gilki," which means "one who teaches," by adding strength.

Literal Meaning: The term literally translates to "one who teaches with strength".

Cultural and Social Relevance: In Gallifreyan society, the term "wiGilki" conveys a high level of respect and recognition for professors who are seen as pillars of knowledge and education. The distinction between "wiGilki" and "aiGilki" (a submissive or less experienced teacher) highlights the societal importance placed on experience and strength in the educational role.

(GIL Gallifreyan Conlang Guide)

Gallifreyan Word for Wednesday by GIL

More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴