#pre pre-flight checklist

[baenxietydad]

@davidhatter

"I--" but before Mu-yeol could say anything stupid, he stopped himself.

Why apologize for going through a hard time and needing a little support? That's what a partner does, right? Mu-yeol would do the same for him and not feel put-out by it in any way.

Still, he felt silly for needing the help.

At 43 years old he should be able to remember to eat and take care of travel matters at the same time and yet! And yet! David probably didn't see it so harshly though. It wouldn't be fair to assume that he did.

"I appreciate you taking care of me, um, when I occasionally need the reminder."

Pre Pre-Flight Checklist || Hatfish

[bleedingcoffee42]

Bob bible 1/4 Market Garden time

[despazito]

Aviation investigation channels: this crash happened because the captain forgot to set the trim and didn't follow his pre-flight checklist or maintain proper altitude

Shipwreck investigation channels: the clouds were in the shape of a dog on the day of the sinking which was a terrible omen, the captain stepped out of the latrine with his left foot first, putting a curse on the ship.

[kings-highway]

haikyuu airport headcanons bc im in an airport. no particular order. shipping involved.

- Daichi has never missed a flight and somehow everyone manages to make fun of him for this. never forgets to pack anything. always finds his gate on time. "lmao loser," Suga says, missing 2 bags and lost as fuck across the airport. he will not make his flight.

- Hinata and Kageyama navigating an airport is nearly a crisis. They can never agree on the right way to go and especially during layovers will often end up outside of security. The first time they travel with Tsukki + Yama as a group it's like a goddamn miracle because they dont need to rush and everything goes smoothly.

- on that topic, Tsukki and Yamaguchi have travel down to a science. these bitches have checklists and schedules and just get in and out. Tsukki keeps the boarding passes and Yamaguchi counts the bags and they split snacks on the plane and just nail the whole affair

- Noya and Asahi are the most experienced travelers and have been to so many airports and you'd think this makes them good at airports and it does not

- Ushijima has never gotten through security without being searched.

- Oikawa likes airports an unreasonable amount. Bitch thrives in liminal spaces. "Lets go check out which stores are open," he says, as Iwaizumi begs him to let him sit down and nap during their layover

- Kenma has airport anxiety. "We're going to miss our flight. What if our gate changes?" What if there's a delay?" He does not like putting his schedule into the hands of an Airline. Rightfully so, he loses his luggage an obscene amount.

- Kageyama and Hinata fighting and causing a ruckus in the airport and security has to come over to talk to them

- Tendou and Ushijima are generally really prepared and on top of things, but they just seem to have the worst luck. They got stranded at an airport during a layover for like 14 hours and went through every stage of grief. It doesnt help that Ushijima is really practical and good at accepting circumstances ("I'll just sit here and wait") but Tendou is highly emotional ("I'm going to eat the next airline associate that tries to talk to me.")

- Daichi is often seen standing alone in airports. This is because no matter who he's traveling with, he's probably waiting for them to catch up.

- Aran thought he was a good and functional adult until he saw Kita's itinerary for their travel plans and how neurotic he was about making sure everything on time. Kita will pre-measure and weigh all luggage to know exactly whats going on. Looking at airport layouts days before to memorize what needs to be done.

- Atsumu and Osamu have never made a flight on time. The best they can hope for is sprinting across the airport at full-tilt. This is a common occurance.

- Oikawa makes friends wherever he goes so he doesnt mind long layovers, he'll just sit and chat with whoever is around to pass the time, but one time he did leave with a group to check out a store without saying anything and Iwaizumi was lost for 30 minutes

- Asahi has so much anxiety with airports. Too many people. Too many deadlines. Bad vibes. One time a guy in an airport gave him incorrect directions to a gate and he missed his flight and he has never recovered.

- Kuroo "Yeah we have tons of time" Tetsurou is a menace to airport staff and has never budgeted enough time.

- Tsukki is a master at packing efficiently and this is exclusively due to wanting to avoid others complaining. He can pull basically anything out of his carry-on to prevent whining on a 5 hour flight. Yamaguchi uses him like a vending machine.

- Daichi once got mistaken for an airline worker and ended up with a whole group of people he was helping find their gates

- Bokuto loves traveling and flying. He finds it so fun and exciting. This is probably why Akaashi hates traveling and flying.

- Suga secretly likes layovers because he secretly hates planes and cannot stand sitting still for that long. He always pretends it such a hassle to have to wait but its the best part of the travel day when he gets to buy himself a muffin and bother Daichi for entertainment.

- Ushijima, Daichi, Kenma, and Asahi are all team "No PDA in an Airport!!!!!" whereas Tendou, Suga, Kuroo and Noya are all team "We have 2 hours to kill let me make out with you!!!!"

- Yamaguchi has sooooooo many reward points. Tsukishima doesnt even know what he's doing to get them, he's just a master of good deals and specials.

- Mile High Club Members: Iwaoi, Bokuaka, Ushiten, and Asanoya

- Wannabe Mile High Club Members who cannot convince their boyfriends it'll be okay: Suga

- Wannabe Mile High Club Members that will NOT admit they think about it: Yamaguchi, Hinata, Kageyama, Aran

... well im boarding soon so thanks for reading ig

[thewulf]

Easy Skies || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request - Feeling cuddly so you end up cuddling Jake for the first time in the early stages of your relationships. How this would lead to them napping together? Nothing but praises and love affirmations between them. Soft kisses. Readers first kiss with Jake.

A/N: Ahhh sorry I've been gone! Been enjoying summer :)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.7k +

T/W : None just fluff

It’s been several weeks since you and Jake officially started seeing each other. You met at a community event honoring local heroes where Jake shared stories of his missions and the places his career had taken him. Your own interest in aerial photography sparked a quick and deep conversation between the two of you leading to an instant connection.

It was going really well. The two of you taking your time with everything. He shared stories of how we was reckless in the past and you were already very cautionary with types like his. So, you tested him a bit. Only kisses on the cheek, nothing more. And he did passed with flying colors. He never pressured you, never pushed for more. But now you were ready for something more. You're spending a lazy Sunday at Jake’s apartment for the first time. His place reflects his life as a pilot. It was decorated with navigational charts. With different models of aircraft he’s flown and photographs from around the world. The walls hold framed maps marked with the various places he's visited, each one holding a story he's eager to share with you.

As the afternoon fades into evening, you both settle into the comfortable couch in his living room. The soft music playing in the background mixes with the mellow golden light streaming through the windows creating a serene atmosphere. It's a rare and quiet moment for Jake who is usually caught up in the demanding schedule of a Navy pilot. You cherish the peaceful intimacy that has formed between you. Today’s simplicity is a precious contrast to the complexities of your usual routines.

As you both relax into the couch Jake recounts a comical error from his last training exercise. He'd accidentally swapped his day’s checklist with another pilot’s which led to some light-hearted confusion and teasing from his crew.

“You seriously went through half the pre-flight with the wrong list?” you laugh while shaking your head in amusement.

“Yep,” Jake admits with a grin. “It was only when I called out the wrong coordinates that someone caught on. We all had a good laugh about it later.” The conversation winds down as you both sink into the rhythm of each other’s presence, comfortable and at ease. There’s a genuine simplicity in the way you interact, no need for constant chatter. Jake’s job as a pilot often surrounds him with high stakes and rigor making these peaceful moments particularly valuable.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Just being able to sit and talk without rushing anywhere,” Jake comments. His tone relaxed.

“It really is,” you agree as you smiled over at him. “Especially with good company.”

He returns your smile with a warm, appreciative one of his own. As the room fills with the soft hum of a new song the day closes around you both, cozy and familiar. Like a well-loved jacket that’s been washed a hundred times. It’s easy, it’s comfortable. And right now, it’s exactly what you both need.

As the afternoon shadows stretch across the room a yawn escapes you, shifting the comfortable silence. Jake catches it and chuckles, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “Tired?” he teases before nudging you gently with his elbow.

“Maybe a little,” you admit while stretching your arms above your head. “It’s been a long week.”

Jake nods understandingly. His gaze softening. “How about we take a little nap then? Recharge a bit?”

You playfully raise an eyebrow. A smile tugging at your lips. “Only if you’re joining. I hear you’re the best pillow around here.”

Jake’s laughter fills the room, warm and infectious. “Is that so? Well, I can’t let you down then.” He shifts himself making room on the couch and pats the spot next to him "Come here," he says softly. His voice blending with the low melody. With a contented smile you slide closer until you're nestled against him. Your head resting comfortably on his broad chest. You can feel the steady beat of his heart through the soft fabric of his shirt. A reassuring rhythm that echoes quietly in your ear. Jake's arm wraps securely around you with his hand resting gently on your back. The warmth of his touch and the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he takes bring an overwhelming sense of peace and safety.

For a few moments you simply listen, taking in the sound of his heartbeat and the soft, steady breaths he draws. It's a new level of intimacy of sharing this quiet closeness without the need for words. Jake's hand moves in slow, soothing strokes across your back further relaxing you. With each passing second the world beyond the walls of Jake’s apartment seems to drift further away. You're drawn into this serene bubble where the only things that matter are the soft fabric of the couch, the gentle caress of Jake's hand, and the comforting rhythm of his heart.

Jake breaks the silence with a whisper that's barely audible over the music. "This is nice," he murmurs. His breath tickling your ear. You hum in agreement as you were too content and relaxed to form words. The trust and affection in this simple act of cuddling deepen, marking a beautiful, quiet milestone in your growing relationship.

As the soft jazz continues to play creating a soothing backdrop, the room grows quieter still. The comfort of Jake’s embrace coupled with the warm, gentle atmosphere lulls you deeper into relaxation. His breathing becomes slower, more rhythmic, signaling his own descent into sleep. You feel his grip tighten just a bit. A subconscious affirmation of his presence and protection. Gradually, the space between wakefulness and sleep blurs. Your thoughts drift away, anchored only by the steady heartbeat beneath your ear. In the safety of Jake’s arms sleep seems like the most natural progression. Without planning it you both drift off. The world narrowing down to the couch where you lie together.

The nap isn't long but it’s restorative. Exactly what you needed. As you both sleep there’s an unspoken exchange of trust and comfort. It’s one thing to share conversations and activities but another to share such vulnerability as sleep in each other’s presence. This mutual comfort speaks volumes about the trust and closeness developing between you.

Time slips by quietly and when you eventually stir it’s to the feeling of Jake’s fingers lightly brushing through your hair. His movements are soft and careful, designed not to wake you but to reassure himself you’re still there. You open your eyes slowly meeting his gaze which is filled with a quiet joy.

“Hey,” he whispers. As if speaking too loudly might break the spell of the peaceful moment you've shared.

“Hey,” you respond with your voice just as soft. The simple exchange feels like a gentle reconnection to the world affirming the comfort and affection that wrapped around you both as you slept. The nap together was simple yet intimate. It deepens the connection between you. Each quiet breath shared adding another layer to your growing relationship.

The afternoon light has softened into a cozy twilight by the time you both stir from your nap. You’re still wrapped in Jake’s arms and as your eyes meet there’s a playful spark between you that feels both exciting and comforting. “Welcome back,” Jake murmurs. His voice low and slightly husky from sleep. He leans forward pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. Then one on the tip of your nose, which makes you giggle.

“Is that how you wake up all your guests?” you tease. Your voice light and tinged with laughter.

“Only the special ones,” he replies with a grin with his eyes crinkling at the corners. He doesn’t stop there though. His kisses wander from your cheek to your jawline, each peck light and teasing, drawing more giggles from you. The laughter that fills the room is warm, echoing the affectionate mood.

Jake’s playful kisses continue by tracing a path down the side of your neck, sending a shiver of delight through you. You can’t help but catch him by the collar before pulling him back up to meet your eyes. “You’re going to make it impossible to leave this couch,” you laugh while still holding onto his shirt.

“That’s the plan,” he whispers back. His voice playful yet sincere. Then in a swift, fluid motion he captures your lips with his in a kiss that’s deeper and more intentional than the playful ones before. This kiss feels like a culmination of all the gentle pecks, each one adding a layer to the profound connection you’re building together.

As you break away there’s a shared smile. A mutual understanding of the affection and joy weaving through each interaction, each touch, each kiss. The playfulness adds a lightness to your relationship. He made moments like these not just romantic but genuinely fun, enriching the bond you share with laughter and love. After the laughter subsides and the atmosphere settles into a comfortable quiet, Jake looks at you with a contented smile. His eyes reflecting a gentle appreciation. "These moments with you. They're the highlight of my week," he says quietly. His voice carrying a note of sincerity.

Feeling a warm glow from his words you nod and smile softly. Your response understated but genuine. "It always feels different when I'm with you. It's easy, you know?" Your words are simple, echoing the straightforwardness of your time together.

Jake's response is a nod, his smile lingering. "Let's keep it that way," he replies. His agreement simple yet full of promise. The conversation feels natural, reflecting the comfort and understated affection that characterizes your relationship. As twilight transitions into the deep blue of night neither of you feels ready to break the comfortable cocoon you've formed on the couch. Jake glances at the clock, then back at you with a playful challenge in his eyes.

"How about we order some dinner?" he suggests. His tone casual but hopeful. "I'm not quite ready for this day to end. But I don’t think I can get up quite yet."

You laugh while agreeing instantly. "Sounds perfect. What are you in the mood for?"

"Pizza okay with you?" Jake asks already reaching for his phone to place the order.

"Always a good choice," you reply settling back against his chest while feeling utterly at ease.

The wait for the food is filled with more soft conversations. Each shared thought strengthening the bond between you. As the evening unfolds it becomes clear that days like these are just the beginning of what you both hope will be many more shared experiences.

When the food arrives, you set up a makeshift dining area on the coffee table, continuing the easy flow of the day into the evening. Each slice of pizza comes with stories you share. Each laugh making the room warmer. As the evening winds down, you find yourselves eagerly talking about other things you could do together, from movie nights to hiking trips. The night ends not just with satisfied appetites but with the excitement of planning future outings. It's clear that your relationship is blossoming. Full of promise for more beautiful days and nights shared in each other’s company.

Jake Seresin/Top Gun: Permanent Taglist (If you'd like to be added to any or all works please fill out the form here: Taglist Sign Up) @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @mamachasesmayhem @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @illisea @jessicab1991 @guacam011y @dempy @mrsevans90 @il0vebeingdelulu @hiireadstuff @missxmav @kajjaka

[writing-until-i-drop]

Mattress Shopping Pt. 2 | Drabble wc: 670

Javy "Coyote" Machado x reader (no use of y/n)

You've been living with Javy for a month now (enjoying his brand new mattress) but when your mamas come to town, you have to pretend there's two beds in the apartment.

Warnings!: Smut, unprotected p in v, they're idiots but they're in love

“We don’t have time for this, Jav,” Your giggle turned into a moan as he sucked on one of your nipples, rolling the other between his fingers just how you liked it. “Javy, our mamas-”

“We’ve got time,” He kissed up your neck, careful not to leave any marks. The pretty sundress you had put on while your mamas visited for dinner discarded on the floor next to his uniform. When he had come home from work you had already taken care of setting the whole apartment and dinner up, there was a roast in the oven and mashed potatoes in the Instapot warming. You had been putting the finishing touches on your makeup when he had pulled you in for a kiss and you had quickly ended up naked in bed beneath him. 

“We so don’t,” You replied but you didn’t stop him as he found his place between your thighs. Javy loved the way you looked spread out beneath him, on the bed you made him buy, on the sheets you had picked, in the apartment you had decorated. He loved the way you had blown back into his life a month ago and had taken over.

“You let me worry about the time, you just lay there and focus on cumming around my cock.” You moaned, arching your back as he pushed into you. It was heaven feeling you stretch around him, knowing that you were finally his. After years of wanting and wishing, the two of you were finally together. 

“More, baby,” You whined, digging your fingers into his back, urging him on. “You feel so good.” Javy groaned, feeling your walls flutter around him. 

“Play with yourself, sweetheart,” Javy increased his pace, your moans and whimpers of pleasure spurring him on. You felt so good he had to start running through his pre-flight checklist in his head to keep from cumming too early. Your phone started ringing, spooking both of you. Javy looked over, blanching when he saw mama on the screen. “Your mama’s calling.” 

“Shit, do you think they’re here?” Javy didn’t stop thrusting into you, not willing to stop until he heard knocking at the door and even then, he wasn’t sure he could. Not when you felt this good.

“Answer it and find out,” You grabbed the phone and answered it.

“Mama, hi,” Your voice was thin and trembling. Javy slowed but didn’t stop, focusing on hitting you deeper, lifting your hips for a better angle. “You can’t find the street?” You clamped a hand over your mouth, smothering a moan, glaring at him. “Oh, you passed it. Just um,” You flipped Javy off when he ran his thumb over your clit. “Just go around the block and look for Subway and turn right, that’ll be the street.” 

Javy hoped you hanged up before you moaned or else both of your mamas would have had a heart attack. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” A few seconds later you fell apart, milking his own orgasm from him. Javy swore he’d never get tired of this, of you, of the two of you together. “I lo-” He stopped, those three words were not something he should say for the first time while he was buried inside of you.

You chuckled, bringing him down into a kiss.

“I know, me too,”  How did he get so lucky with you? The girl who had been beside him his whole life loved him back. “Now get off of me and get dressed.” 

Dinner was going well. Your mamas were under the impression that the two of you were temporary roommates while you searched for an apartment of your own. Everything was going great until Javy decided to help you clean the dishes, leaving your mamas unattended. 

“Why is there only one bed in this apartment?” Javy’s mama shouted and the two of you turned to face each other, eyes wide.

“Shit.” 

What the two of you didn’t see were your mamas exchanging money, Javy’s mama won the bet.

[blurredcolour]

so much John Brady brainrot 🤭 so that being said…..soft dom! Brady headcanons?

Oh my nonny, this ask jumped out at me like a jackrabbit and I feel like it is the perfect time to expound on the forbidden dress scenario I first touched upon around Easter.

Behold some headcannons AND a drabble

Mature/explicit themes below the cut - 18+ only

Given the fact that dear Brady rules his fort with an iron fist (see his lecture to Croz after his struggles finding, I don’t know, England?!) I definitely feel like this man prefers to be in control, but I agree that it errs on the side of a soft!Dom rather than an outright dominant

While he hasn’t engaged in penetrative sex prior to your wedding night, he’s still the one on top, in charge, executing his seduction of you like some kind of pre-flight checklist

And let me tell you it works

As your relationship grows, you definitely feel more confident initiating intimacy, usually at times and in places that leave him slightly bewildered, your desire for him something so utterly mysterious whereas it’s completely logical to him that he cannot get enough of you

But he soon takes over to ensure you get the most amount of pleasure possible, putting himself last

You never realized, however, the potential for him to be suddenly overcome by a need until you wore that seemingly innocuous dress

Securing the zipper at your side, you took a moment to check your appearance in the floor length mirror of your shared bedroom, smoothing the hem of the spring dress in your favourite colour against your knees. It had been an irresistible extravagance when you were at the department store with only socks and underwear on your list, but the neckline and style had called out to you like a siren song.

Smoothing an errant strand of hair, you grabbed your handbag and hurried down the stairs to the living room where John was waiting, scanning the paper for something of interest.

“Ready, honey. Thanks for waiting.” You smiled and he snapped the paper closed along its pre-folded lines but froze as you came into view.

“That’s…that’s new…” he intoned, expression unreadable and making you feel the need to apologize for your over-spending.

“I…yes, I indulged a little at the store, did you want me to-” the sharp shake of his head cut off your offer to take it off, to return it tomorrow.

“It’s perfect.” He exhaled, eyeing you intensely before surging to his feet. “Come on, don’t let me make us late.” He grunted and grabbed his suit jacket from the back of the couch, sliding it on before leading you out to the car.

There was a different tension in the vehicle, John’s eyes flashing in your direction frequently through the short drive to the cathedral, his hand resting heavily against your lower back as he guided you to your favourite pew. The heat of his palm was soaking through the thin fabric of your dress making you shiver at the temperature contrast with the cool stone of the building.

“You chilly?” He leaned in the murmur, the roughness in his voice taking you back to your lazy lovemaking yesterday morning and your jaw dropped open as you suddenly realized just what was going on.

A glance at him to offer a reassuring smile and shake of your head revealed his dilated pupils and slightly flushed cheeks, making you sink to teeth into your lower lip. What on earth had gotten into your husband?!

You could feel the weight of his heated gaze on you like numerous caresses throughout the service, more than confident he didn’t catch a word of the sermon, pressing your lips together sheepishly as somehow you felt at fault for this predicament and yet you couldn’t really bring yourself to mind?

How many times had you found yourself staring at this man, star-struck and breathless with desire in the most inopportune of places…what a heady turn of events this role-reversal was.

As you rose to join your fellow congregants for the weekly post-service chat over coffee and cake, John’s hand slid to your lower back, his skin scorching through your dress by now.

“Would you mind if we ducked out early, sweetheart? I’ve got a bit of a headache…”

Feigning wifely concern, you nodded quickly. “Of course, Johnny, let’s get you home.”

The drive home felt faster than usual, perhaps because he barely stopped at the stop signs, his hand resting on your thigh, fingertips plucking at the hem of your dress idly in the silence of the vehicle. Stepping into the house, you’d barely removed your shoes before his mouth was on yours, hungrily devouring, as his hands seized your hips and pulled you flush against his body.

The prominent bulge of his cock pressed against your hip and you dropped your handbag to slide your fingers into his hair.

“This dress is my devil in the desert.” He growled against your lips, making you laugh breathlessly.

“I wasn’t sure you were paying attention, honey.”

Turning to press you up against the front door, he ground his aching hardness into you. “I was enduring my own test…” he nipped your lips before trailing his mouth down your neck, hands rucking up the hem to slip between your thighs.

Mewling as you pulled at his suit jacket, you clung to him as he pinned you tightly to the door and quickly wrung an orgasm from you with practiced efficiency, leaving you a knock-kneed, panting, shaking mess.

Stepping back to shuck off his jacket and yank his tie free, you reached up to pull down your side zipper, eyes shooting wide at his verbal interjection.

“Ah! This?” His fingers strayed back to toy with the hem of your dress. “No, this stays on.” He said firmly, voice taking on a deep timber that flooded you with fresh desire.

Lurching forward, you instead focused your efforts on stripping him completely, following him down to the small carpet on the foyer floor, lifting your hips as he pulled your underwear off over your garter straps and stockings. Nestling between your thighs beneath your dress, his darkened eyes hungrily drank in the sight of you as he rocked his hardened length through your damp folds until you were begging for him.

“If my wife insists.” He smirked and rocked forward, sinking into your wet heat as your mingled groans filled the foyer.

The novelty of this coupling and desperation of his thrusts, combined with the insistent circles of his thumb on your clit, meant it did not take long for either of you to find release, left a sweaty, gasping mess on the floor of the entry way.

[ladywaffles]

From the prompt list: icemav + 6. patting the other’s head?? If it inspires

icemav + patting the other’s head

i do not know the meaning of brevity. send me a pairing and a prompt!

To be a fighter pilot, you have to have ego.

It’s not just a requirement, it’s an immutable law. It’s on the checklist of fighter pilot eligibility. One: candidate must be a United States citizen of sound mind and body. Two: candidate must have a four-year degree from an accredited educational institution. Three: candidate must have ego the size of the Grand Canyon and the guts to back it up.

Fighter pilots are young, good-looking guys who grow into stately, well-tailored men. Elegant. Gentlemanly. Airs of class that have since ebbed away in the general population, but which find a home in the handful of officers who call themselves naval aviators, and they wear them damn well.

Ice has always been particular about his appearance; it’s hard not to be painfully aware of it, with twelve years of detentions earned for uniform infractions at elite private schools and four years of the Naval Academy bearing down on him. He holds it together through the six months of hellish diagnoses it takes for the doctors to figure out what’s making him sick (cancer), where the cancer is (his lungs), and where it metastasized to (his throat). There’s never a hair out of goddamn place through the whole endeavor. But when they finally figure it out and get him on a chemotherapy plan, the pristine picture of the Iceman falls apart.

His tan is the first to go; if he’s being honest, it was already on its way out. It’s been nigh on ten years since he was last in a cockpit, and trading his F-14 for another stripe on his sleeve meant he hardly saw the sun in his cramped offices. Maverick used to tease that he looked like a vampire, losing the California bronze that’s been embedded in his skin since he was old enough to walk. Jokes like that are far and few between now that it’s no longer the job that’s draining his color, but his own body.

In the end, it’s easy to let the tan go. What really gets him, what really hurts, is when his hair starts falling out. Iceman has impeccable hair. The sun rises in the east. The facts of life. He puts off shaving it as long as he can, because yes, it’s just hair, and yes, it should grow back—the doctors assured him it would probably grow back—but dammit, he’s a fighter pilot, and he has his pride.

He sulks about it for weeks: gently combing his hair, putting as little product into it as possible so as to prolong the life of the strands that remain, taking shorter showers to reduce the likelihood of tufts of blonde falling out and running down the drain.

Maverick is solid at his side, his own hair dark as the day they met. In the deepest parts of his heart, he hates Maverick just a little bit for it. The asshole doesn’t even have the decency to be going gray yet, and here Ice is losing it all.

But then Maverick will tell him he passed his driving test and got a proper driver’s license so he could drive Ice back and forth from his appointments so Ice wouldn’t have to ride in a smelly taxi on the way home when he’s already starting to feel nauseous, or he’ll smile at Ice when he gets home and say, “Hey, I called up Wolf and he found that baked potato soup recipe from that place we ate at in ’96,” or he’ll sit at Ice’s side at two in the morning on the bathroom floor when the vertigo has Ice kneeling at the altar of the porcelain throne, even though he has to be at the base at five-thirty to do briefings and pre-flight checks, and Ice can’t remember why he was annoyed about Maverick’s hair at all.

Maverick drives him to his next chemo appointment. He sits in the waiting room, perusing the latest copy of People Magazine. Maverick hates People Magazine, but there’s not much else the hospital waiting room can offer in terms of salient literature, so People Magazine it is.

Ice goes back for his chemo treatment. Phil, his technician, doesn’t say much as he putters around the room, hanging IV drip bags here and flipping switches on medical equipment there. When Ice is all hooked up, they chat about inane things. Phil recounts his daughter’s swim meet. Ice responds with tales of his own swim meets, back at the Naval Academy. Phil says his son signed up for flag football, but God bless him, he’s shit at the sport. Ice promises that he’s not going to get much better at it, if he sucks this much at it now; he’s got his own scars from high school to prove it.

Phil unhooks him from the infernal treatment and books him for an appointment in two weeks. Maverick puts down People Magazine—a different issue than he was reading before, Ice notes—and drives them both home. He helps Ice into the living room and lays him down on the couch with the quilt that Carole made for their sort-of-fifteenth-anniversary. He kisses Ice on the forehead and goes to the kitchen to start dinner, and Ice is out like a light.

When he wakes up again, the sky is a dusky gray. It’s just past sundown. Maverick let him sleep for hours.

“Mav?” he calls out. Ice pushes himself up off the couch, his elbows creaking as he goes. “Maverick?”

“In here!” Maverick replies from the guest bathroom. “I’ll be just a second!”

Ice hums and goes into the kitchen. There’s a pot on the counter, but it’s not one of theirs. He lifts the lid; savory chicken congee, with ginger root and scallions. The Reyes’ must have dropped something off while he was asleep.

“Oh, yeah, Martin came by with some soup,” Maverick says behind him. “He says there’s no better cure than his wife’s arroz caldo, not even your mama’s chicken noodle soup.”

Ice puts the lid back on the pot. He turns to Maverick, ready to bear all of his weight down on his partner, because chemo is a bitch and he feels exhausted just standing here in his own kitchen—

—And flinches.

“What the fuck did you do to your hair?” Ice cries. Maverick cracks a grin, his signature Colgate smile.

“Do ya like it?” he asks.

Like it? Ice reaches out for his head, and Maverick leans in. He runs his hand over Maverick’s scalp, feeling the smoothness of his skin. He passes over the whole landscape once, twice, his fingers tripping over the tips of Maverick’s ears and the nape of his neck, as if he’d find something there like a magician performing a sleight of hand, but there’s nothing there.

“It’s all gone,” Ice laughs, somewhat hysterical. “It’s gone, it’s gone! What did you do? What the fuck did you do!”

Maverick shaved all of his thick, dark hair off. All of it is gone. All of Maverick’s damnable, doesn’t-have-the-decency-to-go-even-a-little-salt-and-pepper hair has disappeared.

Maverick smiles, teary himself. “Yeah, babe, it’s all gone.” He takes Ice’s hands in his and holds them tight. Ice tries to fight his own tears, but they’re doing what they please.

“Mitchell, what the hell?”

Maverick laughs. “C’mon, Kazansky, give me some credit. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you worrying about your hair falling out.” He cups Ice’s chin with one hand, looking straight into his eyes. “I thought you’d be less scared of it if we did it together.”

“Maverick,” Ice starts.

He doesn’t know where to go. It’s a grand gesture, that’s for sure, and if fifteen-odd years of knowing Maverick have taught him anything, it’s that you cannot always listen to what Maverick Mitchell says, you must only listen to what he does.

“Maverick,” he says again.

“Ice,” Maverick replies. “Let’s eat. And when we’re done, we’ll call Slider up and tell him what I did, and you can make as much fun of me as you want—for tonight only!—and we can talk about what you want to do next.”

They end up eating dinner in the bathroom. Maverick takes bites of his congee in between bouts of shaving off Ice’s hair as Ice huddles in the tub, ducking his head keep anything from falling into his own bowl. When they’re finished, they cram next to each other in Ice’s office and call Slider on Skype. His laughter is piercing through the laptop speakers and echoes down the hall.

And when Slider arrives ten days later, to, “Make sure Mitchell isn’t leaving you to fend all for yourself, I mean does he even know how to make a proper chicken noodle soup,” he knocks on Ice and Maverick’s front door sporting a grin and a freshly-shaved head.

Fighter pilots might have egos, but they’re a fiercely loyal bunch, too.

[mastersoftheair]

"Masters of the Air detail: Part 2-Dave Littleton

"[...] Dave is a lifelong WWII aviation enthusiast who has worked on a lot of other films in the past. He has a passion for the B-17 that goes back to his childhood. So much so that he has built a super accurate cockpit, from scratch over 20+ years, using a lot of original parts and equipment. The rest he made by hand. He brought his cockpit to the studio, and it was wonderful for sure.

"Dave worked pre-production, hand in hand with BGI, the company that made a lot, if not most, of the B-17 props and the two full-size aircraft. He gave them the drawings, photos and answered their questions. I think he was instrumental in the success of so many aspects of MOTA.

"I was asked to come over to teach the aircrew how to look like they could pilot, navigate, drop bombs, shoot guns, radio work etc., which ended up being a lot more than that. Dave let us use his cockpit for the flight training and top turret gunner/engineer duties.

"The pilots and engineers went through initial training in Dave’s cockpit and then we would rehearse for the specific scenes.

"I thought that some of the actors might have had some sort of prior knowledge of flying from gaming or flight simulators, but this was not the case. None of them had any concept of flying which was perfectly okay. I had to sit them down in a chair and teach them the very basics of the flight controls and how they are used. Grabbing an imaginary control wheel and had their feet on imaginary rudder pedals. Making sure they used the rudders first and then aileron as you would in a heavy tail wheel aircraft.

"We then progressed into Dave’s cockpit to teach them the myriad of engine controls and their basic function. Later when we had a specific scene, we would go through the procedures whether it be takeoff, landing, engine shutdown etc. Just having them know where to look on the panel for power changes, checklist, formation flying etc. worked out well. The “kids” did a fantastic job and it shows in the episodes.

"The biggest item to try and get across to the actors was being a cohesive flight crew. Remember that the original guys had been flying together for a while and that was an important aspect of their training for the filming. There is nothing sweeter than flying with someone for a while where you get to know each other and anticipate what the other needs before he asks for it. We trained the pilot, copilot and engineer together for takeoff so the pilot would be pushing the throttles with the copilot backing him up, doing the fine tuning, and the engineer in between them doing his part too. The copilot or flight engineer reaching down for the prop controls during power changes as this would differ from one flight crew to another. Same with running the checklist as the engineer and even crew in the back are participating over the interphone. And these details made the final cut and it looked great. Okay, I may be biased…

"Dave’s cockpit was so very helpful for the training because it was on the floor and was easily accessible. The main cockpit used for filming was on a gimbal 20 feet in the air! With Dave’s cockpit, I could lean in from a side window and instruct with all three crew in place. The various directors could also come up to each side and see and direct how they wanted the scene to go. It would give them ideas on camera angles to set up.

"The other aspect of Dave’s wonderful cockpit was its authenticity and detail. He used so many original parts that it is as accurate as could possibly be. Dave wanted it used as much as possible but frankly was a bit shy about this. Not having ever been known for being shy, I really wanted it used for as many close ups as possible and pushed for this. As a result, you can see Dave’s awesome detailed handiwork in MOTA especially in the close-up scenes showing the magneto switches, electrical, primer use and so much more.

"Dave and I were basically the only two on set who had extensive knowledge of WWII aviation and B-17 information. We were constantly being asked questions and were helping lots of different departments. He and I split up the advising since there were several units filming at the same time. We were both out in the field to start mostly at Abingdon where the full size BGI aircraft were. When the volume or studio started ramping up, I stayed there training and rehearsing while Dave continued the field work. We were trying our best to keep things realistic and authentic, but we were spread really thin.

"Dave took off a lot of time from his day job to do this project, as did I, but with the production over runs, COVID etc. he had to go back to work and sadly missed the last few months of filming. We sure missed Dave, especially out in the field, although he was always available by phone and still helped out as much as he could..." - (Taigh Ramey on Facebook)

[green-eyedfirework]

“Well?” Wilson arched an eyebrow at him.  “I told you to try it out, not stand there like a gaping fish.”

Dick kept his voice controlled and level.  “You’re sitting in the pilot’s seat.”

Wilson’s expression didn’t change, malicious and amused.  “There’s plenty of room for you.”  He spread his legs and something in Dick’s stomach dropped.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about this.  Like he didn’t know what he looked like, or what Slade Wilson’s searing glances and little comments meant.  Like he didn’t know what depravities the Society was capable of.

He had just tried very hard to forget about it.

Wilson’s expression darkened a fraction.  “Do I have to remind you of the consequences of noncompliance?” he asked, utterly calm.  Dick’s fingers tightened in a spasm at the memory of his muscles seizing up in a shockwave of pain for daring to backtalk to Ra’s al Ghul.  Of the holos of his friends with targets on their foreheads, the constant threat of utter annihilation should he step out of line.

Dick walked forward.

Wilson made no motion to get up, only smirking as Dick eyed the space between the controls and his lap.  It would be a tight fit, leaving little to no maneuvering area for Dick at all.

Dick took a controlled breath, his jaw aching from how tightly he was clenching it, and braced a hand on the side of the arm rest to slide in.  Wilson was a solid presence beneath him, taking up the entire space and the arm rests too once Dick had let go to check the dashboard.  He’d spread his legs wide enough that Dick could fit in between, sitting tense and rigid on the older man’s lap.

He waited a stretching second, but Wilson didn’t move.  Dick let out a shaky breath—too shaky, if the asshole’s slight huff of amusement was any indication—and shifted his focus away from the presence bracketed around him and towards the ship.

His new ship.

The Renegade.

The name was fitting.  Dick missed his ship, mourned his ship, would slit Wilson’s throat right here and now if he thought he had a single chance of making it back.  But he couldn’t.  He wasn’t just a hostage, he was forced to work for Wilson and the Society, to be their new star pilot instead.

The Renegade was bigger than the Nightwing, decked out with more weapons and lethal countermeasures.  The sheer amount of explosive power alone was enough to make Dick wince.  The Nightwing had been dangerous.  The Renegade was deadly.

Dick ran through the entire pre-flight checklist and more, familiarizing himself with the ship, taking his time—not only to delay, because he didn’t want to start piloting a new ship, not when it felt so achingly like a betrayal, but also for thoroughness.  Regardless of his other feelings, the Renegade was a weapon, and unless it was an emergency, Dick would not fly a ship unless he knew full well what it was capable of.

He was finally halted by a hand dropped down on his thigh.  It burned through the thin material of his undersuit.  “Enough stalling, little bird,” Wilson murmured into his ear, making goosebumps prickle down his skin.  “I want to see you fly.”

Dick took it as the order it was and started engaging the undocking systems.  The hand on his thigh, a broad palm layered right above his knee, didn’t move.  He forced himself to stop thinking about it and concentrated on taking off.

The Renegade was not as sleek as the Nightwing was—no ship in the world was as maneuverable as his ship, but in Dick’s hands, the bulkier ship still moved with grace.  “The asteroid field,” Wilson directed as Dick led them out of the space station, and Dick set their course to the expanse of broken rocks that stretched across space.

“Show me what you’re capable of, little bird,” Wilson hummed as they shot straight towards the field.  For a brief moment of insanity, Dick considered crashing the ship straight into a rock.

Fingers clenched tight on the yoke, Dick tilted the Renegade to skim through a gap between two asteroids and into the dizzying maze beyond.  It was a difficult task—though not the most difficult he’d ever undertaken—challenging and requiring his full concentration to avoid or blast debris out of his way.  Dick nearly lost control and sent them spinning into a minefield of smaller debris when the warmth on his thigh dragged upward.

“Careful,” came the low voice, breaths huffing against his ear, “don’t lose your nerve now.”  Fingers traced down until they met the seam of his suit, and then began pressing along it.  “Wouldn’t want an accident, do we.”

His heart was pounding in his ears.  Wilson’s hand had moved up half his thigh, fingers firmly pressed between his legs, and when the other hand curled around his waist to feather touches down the side of his ribs, Dick had to strangle a choked gasp.

The Renegade moved through the asteroid field like it was a butterfly, not a warship.  Dick piloted the aircraft half on autopilot, feeling strangely detached from his body.  His body, trapped in the cockpit of a ship that wasn’t his, sitting on the lap of the man holding him prisoner while he practically molested him.

Dick wasn’t there.  Dick was a million parsecs away, back home, with the Titans, with Slade Wilson as nothing more than a wanted poster in their system.  Dick was in the stars, among them, flying free in space, not trapped with a hand gripping the inside of his thigh and moving up and up and up.

Dick was wedged in the seat, wedged between Wilson’s legs, and was all too happy for the excuse to keep his legs firmly shut.  There was barely any space to move, Wilson couldn’t wriggle an inch higher—

Wilson shifted, arm tightening to lift Dick up an inch as he twisted his legs in, and forced Dick to separate his, splaying his legs on either side of Wilson’s and leaving him completely open and vulnerable.

The viewscreen was blurry.  Dick blinked, and didn’t acknowledge the tear that slid down his face.

“Sure you can make something that tight?” Wilson asked as his hand moved unerringly upwards with nothing to stop him.  The Renegade was shooting straight towards a narrow gap in a circle of asteroids.  “You shouldn’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Dick didn’t acknowledge his words, the hand that clamped down and squeezed his inner thigh, fingers pressed against the inner crease, or the way the other hand was drifting up up up.  Fingernails pressed against the hollow of his throat.

The Renegade shot through the gap without scraping a single wing.

“Mm, that was close.”

Fingers wrapped around his throat, firm and hot, and slowly, inexorably, pulled him back.  Dick tried to resist, locked his spine straight for two heartstopping seconds before realizing the futility and letting himself be manhandled back until he was pressed against Wilson, back to front, his head held firmly against Wilson’s shoulder.

“You really are a marvel, little bird.”  Fingers were tracing little patterns against Dick’s thigh.  “A prize.”  The hand around his neck squeezed—not enough to restrict blood flow, just enough to prove the point.

Dick was in Wilson’s hands.  He was a puppet and Wilson would never let him forget it.

The Renegade cleanly exited the asteroid field and Dick brought it to a halt.  The emptiness of space stretched out in front of them, vast and yawning.

“Now that,” was murmured into his ear, “is quite the sight.”

Dick flicked his gaze upwards despite himself.  Wilson wasn’t looking at the stars.  He was looking down, at Dick sprawled out in his lap, unable to stop him from taking whatever it is he wanted.

He grinned, meeting Dick’s gaze and dropping his voice low.  “Stunning,” he breathed out, gaze searing and filthy.

Dick went back to staring at the viewscreen.

“Take us home, little bird,” Wilson said, and Dick didn’t bother to correct him.  Wilson’s base wasn’t his home.  But his home was beyond reach.

[syn4k]

ray keys' pre-flight checklist:

at least two (2) books

all the charging cables your heart desires (3)

notebook

two pencils, a pen, a roll of clear tape, and a black permanent marker. you never know when you might need it.

a friend! :D (plushie)

a pair of wired earbuds, Just In Case

[so-much-for-subtlety]

POV you’re having your morning coffee and duddy is doing his pre-flight checklist

[kristannafever]

Mountain Man - Fifteen

Kristanna Modern AU Rated: M/EX WC: 3098

Collab with @lukin08

Chapter Index

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

Kristoff slid on the head set and checked the instrument panel then continued running through his pre-flight checklist.  A moment later, he was ready, and he fired up the engine of the plane.  Anna smiled at him from the co-pilot seat as he set out.  He rolled out of the hanger and taxied to the runway.  Once he got the all-clear from air traffic control, he pulled onto it, lined himself up, and took off.

There was no better feeling than being in control of a plane as it took off from the ground.  There was a weightlessness to it, something he felt in the deep pit of his stomach.  It trilled him every time. 

Six months ago, he was living alone in his cabin in the middle of nowhere, eking out a living on trade.  Now he was piloting an aircraft on his own with the love of his life beside him.   Look at me now, he thought.

They soared high in the clear, sunny sky.  It was the perfect day for flying.  The perfect day to do what he was about to do.  He looked over at Anna.  She was already looking at him and gave him a big smile.  He grinned back.  It was impossible not to feel pure happiness with the life he now had.   

They chatted as he flew, talking over this and that, things about their future, which they did often, and how great it had been for Kristoff to reconnect with Cliff and Linda.  They made the trip to White Mountain often, and they always had a fantastic time with Kristoff’s parents.  So much so in fact, that the older couple had decided they wanted to downsize their house and get a condo back in Nome to be closer to their family. 

Finally, the ridge came into view.   He had never flown this way before, only heard about it from Anna, and he was nervous with anticipation.  He’d dreamt about it, ever since she had described it to him, and he was excited to see it with his own eyes. 

He approached it and reminded himself to breathe, then just as he pictured it in his mind, they crested the ridge and the long valley opened up in front of them.

“Wow,” Kristoff whispered.

“Right?” Anna said softy.

He nodded unable to take his eyes off the view.  “It’s incredible.”

Anna reached over and patted his forearm gently.  He pulled in a breath, as he was strangely on the verge of tears.   While he knew today was going to be a mixed bag of emotion, he had no idea it was going to start this early.

They flew on, chatting again about the task at hand, when the strip of bare ground came into view.  He smiled.  The first time he’d set his eyes on it from this view he was with Frank; the plane full with the first load of his purchases to drop off in preparation to start his homestead.  It was a natural void in the forest that was just about perfect for landing a small plane.  They only thing Kristoff had to do was widen it a little and straighten it near the end for safety.   He had put all those felled trees to good use in keeping him warm in the lean-to while he worked to build his cabin.

He lined up the plane and began his decent.  The snow had all melted, leaving him a smooth grassy runway.  A moment later they were on the ground and Kristoff was maneuvering the plane back to where it was usually parked when it was unloaded with his supplies.  This time however, there were no supplies with them. 

Kristoff killed the engine and sat for a moment, looking through the window at his old life.  “It feels weird to be back,” he muttered. 

“You know, we can just call it off.”

He looked at her and gave a reassuring smile.  “No, Anna.  It’s okay.  I’m ready.  I’m ready to let go.”

They walked to the cabin and Kristoff disappeared into his shed to grab a hammer.  With it he took all the nails off the board he had hammered over the door.  He set the piece of plywood on the porch and opened the door.

The hinges groaned and Kristoff winced.  They were going to need some WD40.   He stepped into the dim cabin and went straight to the fire.  He got it up and running in no time while Anna lit the lantern and started packing his personal items into a duffle bag. 

With the cabin warming, he helped her with the last of it, grabbing his grandfather’s crib board and picking up the wolf pelt, putting them on top of his books, photos and clothes.  The only items left in the cabin were things he would not miss.  Things he no longer needed. 

“This does feel weird,” Anna frowned, looking around the cabin.  “Considering the last time I was here.”

Kristoff chuckled and pulled her into an embrace, caressing her back.  “You know, I was thinking we could give the place a bit of a send off.  One last thing to remember it by.”

“Really?” Anna smirked sensuously.  “What did you have in mind?”

“I dunno, something along the lines of that first night we slept together.”

“Hmmm, that sounds like a great idea.”

“Uh huh.”  He leaned down and kissed her. 

It wasn’t long before they were buried under the covers in the still chilly cabin warming up in the best way possible.  Anna was on top of him, kissing him silly, while they made love.  She had already come once and he was hoping he would make it to when she came again so he could join her.  It was magical when they reached climax together. 

He got his wish and they both moaned and held each other tight through their pleasure.  After they laid there for a long time, basking in the moment and taking the time to say a silent goodbye to the place where their lives had intertwined. 

“That young couple you sold the place to is going to love it here,” Anna said after a long time.

Kristoff sighed deeply, truly satisfied.  “They are.  And I am happy that they are so excited to do it together.  I know all too well how lonely it actually is.  I also know how valuable it is to have someone to help out.” He looked into her eyes.  “That week you were with me with me was the best week I’ve ever had here.”

“Well, it was the best week I’d ever had here too.”  She smirked.

Kristoff laughed.  It had been her only week there, but he couldn’t argue with the sentiment.  “You know, that night the first time we were together, it was… I don’t even have words to describe it.  It was… like I never knew I could ever have something like that, and then realizing that I was never going to have it again.”

“It’s weird you say that because I certainly thought the same thing at the time.  Although, we certainly have had that again.”

“Yes definitely.  It’s just not quite the same, you know.”  He realized how that came out and backpedalled quickly.  “I’m not saying anything bad!   It’s just… I don’t know… how can you compare that first moment to anything else.  The first time being with you… shit that moment is branded onto my soul.”

Anna giggled.  “I understand, Kristoff.  It is on mine too.  Every time we are together is a reminder of that beautiful night.  I will cherish it always.”

He shook his head.  “Boy, we are sappy today, aren’t we?”

She laughed.  “Just cringe.”

“Cringe?” he asked, confused.  He’d heard at least a dozen slang words that he did not understand.  

“Stupid teenager talk,” Anna said through a chuckle and got up.  “Come on Mountain Man, this place is not going to shut itself up.”

They dressed and boarded the cabin back up with the fire securely doused in the stove.   Kristoff had made a deal with the couple that the cabin came with everything except his personal belongings.  He didn’t even want the food anymore.  He left it there for them to start their lives off the grid.  He would be flying them up the next week as a matter of fact.  He’d have to mention to them that they will need to wash the bedding before using it. 

Thoughts of him and Anna dirtying it up made him smile. 

They were standing in the clearing, taking one last look around.  Anna had her eyes to the south, looking towards the trap line one last time, when he decided it was time.  He sunk to his knee, his hand going into this jacket pocket, just as her gaze was sweeping back around to him.

Anna pulled in a gasp when she saw him, and both hands clapped to her mouth. 

He cleared his throat gently, staring into her shimmering eyes.  “Anna, you are truly the most extraordinary person I have ever met.  You amaze me every day.  That storm allowed me to get to know who you are, and I am so incredibly thankful for that.  I want nothing else than to make you happy, Anna.  I want to be the husband you deserve and the best father I can be to our future kids.  I love you more than life itself.  Will you marry me?”

She was full on crying and nodding over and over, squeaking out “Yes, yes, yes!”

Kristoff grabbed her trembling hand and slid the ring onto her finger, his eyes burning with his own tears.  A moment later, they were in a tight embrace, and he pulled the restraints on his emotion and cried with her. 

*****

Anna could not stop staring at the ring.  It was gorgeous. 

She heard Kristoff’s chuckle into the headset.  “I am so glad you love it.  It’s not really a traditional engagement ring in a sense.”

“I adore it,” she said, tearing her eyes away from her hand.  “Kristoff, I cannot wait to be your wife.”

He smiled.  “I can’t wait to be your husband.”

Anna glanced at the ring again and then looked back at her man.  He was so incredible there were times that she could barely believe that such a wonderful person was in love with her.  Then he would go and show her just how in love with her he was, and she was usually left feeling in complete awe.  Either that or trying to recover from mind-melting pleasure.  That man did things to her that she didn’t know were even possible.

“When did you even have time to get this?” she asked, looking back to the ring again.  “We have barely spent a moment apart since you got back.”

He smiled, eyes on his instruments as he changed the altitude of the plane to get ready for their decent.  “When I said I had to wait at the gas station since a refuelling truck was in the way.  There wasn’t one.  I popped into a jewellery store and got it after I fueled up your truck.”

Anna laughed.  “You are sneaky, mister.”

He glanced over at her, looking thoughtful.  “I knew I wanted to propose at the cabin.  I just had to.  The fact that it is the reason for you coming into my life means a lot to me.  And then it wasn’t selling and I was getting a little panicky on trying to think of an excuse to take you up there.”

“Is that why you seemed so elated when it sold?”

He smiled.  “Oh yeah.  I was happy that it sold, but even happier that it meant I could finally propose.”

Again, Anna was struck with the enormity of what an incredible man he was.  Just utter perfection.  “I am making you whatever you want for dinner tonight.  Then I am going to make love to you all night long.”

He let out a low whistle, looking over at her.  “Baby, you are too good to me.”

~ That Summer ~

Kristoff stared at the ring on his finger.  He grinned.  As far as weddings go, theirs had been absolute perfection.

While Sven’s wedding earlier that year had been a blast, Kristoff and Anna’s nuptials were a lot more intimate.  Sven and Haley had at least fifty at their wedding whereas between the people in Anna and Kristoff’s lives at the moment, the guest list topped out at fifteen. 

In the end that was the perfect amount of people to be able to host the ceremony and reception in the back yard of Anna’s home.  Well, their home.  Elsa, upon hearing about their engagement, told Anna she was going to move on and find her own place.  With the inheritance left to her and Anna when their parent died, she was able to afford herself a nice condo near the ocean.   After that, Anna put the house in his name too.

There were five of them still currently awake sitting around the fire in the wee-hours of the morning.  The sun had set only an hour and a half ago and already dawn was just faintly beginning to lighten the horizon.  Kristoff looked over at Anna, engaged in a conversation with Haley.  Sven and Frank were across from him laughing at one of Sven’s jokes.  His heart felt full and he smiled at them all.

He thought back to seeing Anna come down the little aisle in her dress.  That first look at her stole his breath, and tears filled his eyes to see this absolutely stunning woman who was about to marry him.  She was adored in sea-foam green to compliment his light blue suit.  Anna had told him she didn’t want to go with traditional colours and he happily went along with her ideas. 

Her dress was shin length, sleeveless with spaghetti straps and layered into soft waves of fabric down the length.  In her hands a bouquet of white roses.  Kristoff blinked the tears out of his eyes as she approached him and he could see she was doing her hardest not to cry herself and ruin her makeup.  He put a firm grip on his emotion and smiled at her, wiping the tears away with a handkerchief.  Sven, standing behind him, gave him an encouraging pat on the back.

Anna turned to hand her bouquet to Elsa and the Justic of the Peace began their short ceremony.  Only fifteen minutes later they were wed, and the group wasted no time in jumping into the reception part of the event.   A small local mom-and-pop catering business was set up under a little tent in the corner of the yard with a buffet of delicious food.  A lot of it local seafood, caught that morning. There were also plenty of other wonderful things.  So much so that after everyone had had their fill, the caterers told Anna and Kristoff with a laugh that their fridge was stocked with the leftovers and they wouldn’t need to buy groceries for at least a week. 

Everyone ate outside on folding tables pushed together to form one long dinner table.  Conversations were light and happy, and when the DJ started, people flocked to the dancefloor; the concrete slab where the patio usually sat – its furniture moved to the beside the house.  It was the perfect size for all the guests. 

And after hours or dancing and merriment, finally it was the five of them, relishing in the last of what was surely one of the best days of Kristoff’s entire life. 

Anna leaned over and placed her hand on his forearm.  The rings on her finger glittered in the firelight.  He glanced at his own again, incredibly happy to see it there.  

“You okay,” she asked softly.

He looked at her and smiled.  “I have never been more okay in my entire life.”

She grinned back and he noticed out of the corner of his eye that their companions were standing from their chairs.  “Well, we’re gonna head out.  Give you two the rest of your night,” Frank said, rounding the fire to pull Anna and then Kristoff into a tight hug.  He bid them all the best and left through the gate with a wave and a smile over his shoulder.

Sven and Haley said their goodbyes next, the two couples promising each other they were going to get together again soon.  A pilot who bought Franks plane when he semi-retired that Anna had subcontracted when she was too busy, was going to take them back to Juneau the next day.  Since they’d made this trip up, Kristoff promised they’d head down there to see them as soon as they were able.

And now Kristoff and Anna were alone and he was sitting beside his beautiful bride, holding hands and looking up into the night sky.   Suddenly, a streak drew a quick white line against the deep blue, and he heard Anna pull in a light gasp.

“A shooting star,” he marvelled.  “Not that I believe in omen’s but that’s gotta be a good one, yeah?”

Anna giggled.  “Definitely.”

Just then another one shot across the sky in almost the same path as the first.  “Wow,” Anna breathed.

They continued to look skyward, but if there was a meteor shower, that was it.  The sky remained still as it continued to get lighter.

“Huh,” Kristoff said.  “Guess we just got the two.”

“We did.  How about that.  I was just thinking about the two children we plan to have.  Which I can’t wait to start working on by the way.”

He chuckled and looked at her.  “Me too.”

She gazed back at him, her eyes looking whimsical.  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that maybe… just maybe, that was an omen.  Maybe… that was them.”

Kristoff smiled at her, incredulous at the thought.  “I love that idea.  And I love you, Anna.  I love you so much.”

She smiled as she got up and then settled herself in his lap.  “I love you too, Kristoff.  More than you will ever know.”  She kissed his forehead, his check… his lips.

Kristoff got up with her in his lap, cradled her into his arms, and carried her into their house and to their bedroom.  They came together as their first time being husband and wife, and not long after were sleeping soundly, dreaming of the two little faces they would soon see in their future.

--

Previous Chapter

[ebiartics]

Everything has a procedure. A checklist.

Adrien had studied plenty of those: Emergency procedures, pre-landing checklists, even the NATO alphabet…

Yet none of it had prepared him for this moment. Here he was, in the cockpit of his Cessna with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, who insisted they were 'just friends', sporting red and black spotted sunglasses that she always managed to misplace—hence her fitting nickname "Ladybug".

Most pilots don't want nicknames, but Adrien figured Marinette's wasn't half bad. His, on the other hand…

Chat Noir. 'Noir' because of his father's insistence on purchasing a distinctive black Cessna 172 for him to train on, instead of the typical white Cessna 152s provided by the flight school.

And 'Chat' because, well, Adrien had a regrettable habit of accidentally meowing on the radio, especially when nerves got the better of him—which, given the present company, seemed imminent.

He was Adrien Agreste, an aspiring pilot, just 97.5 hours shy of his commercial pilot's license, and trying to impress his flight school crush, Marinette.

fic coming soon :) In the meantime, check out my other works!

[thewulf]

Crash and Burn || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Request! Y/N and Jake have a very… chaotic relationship. Many ups and downs between the two Naval Aviators. One moment they’re fine the next they are at each other’s throats. Everything goes wrong for the duo in training when Y/N catches Jake’s jet wash as he tries to show off for Maverick. Hurt/Comfort. Readers call sign is Jinx.

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 4,000+

Arrogant. Cocky. Selfish.

Just a few words to describe your least favorite classmate, Hangman. He had mastered the art of getting underneath your skin. Phoenix always told you to play it cool around him or he’d just keep doing the same. You never learned your lesson always arguing back when he had to say some stupid misogynistic thing about female pilots. You had to hand it to Phoenix though, she never let Hangman work her up.

You hadn’t known him prior to Top Gun like your other classmates had. They gave you a forewarning when it came to Jake. Watch your back or he’d be the one shooting at it. You didn’t believe it at first, but you learned.

Quickly, you understood their warnings toward him. The world revolved around Jake Seresin to Jake Seresin. You dreaded when Mav called your name to go up in the air with him. You had yet to have any sort of success when you flew with Hangman. It always ended up in one or both of you being taken down by Mav. Jake never communicated with you always throwing you off your game. He was so good at making you feel less than.

Today was no different. You heard your name paired with Hangman’s drawing a subtle sigh out of your mouth. You let your head rest against your palm as you thought over your options. You didn’t have a back seater today. Fritz called in sick with the flu leaving you flying solo, something you rarely did. You could beg Mav to switch the teams up or you could deal with it. You opted for the first option.

Heaving your body out of your desk you slowly made your way to your teacher while the rest of the class went to the locker rooms. You really didn’t think you had it in you to deal with Jake today. Not sleeping well the previous night due to getting into a heated argument with an ex-boyfriend all your energy was zapped. Certainly not a good combination to be taking an F-18 up in.

“Mav,” You paused waiting for him to look up to you, continuing only when you had his attention, “Fritz is sick today. Don’t you think another team should go up with Hangman?”

He shook his head looking down at whatever he was working on, “No, Jinx.”

“But I don’t have a wizzo.” You frowned knowing it really didn’t make a damn difference today. You were just running the first half of the course. You didn’t really need Fritz until it was time to train to drop the bomb.

He shrugged, “You’ll fly without a back seater today. Understood?”

Letting out another small huff of annoyance you nodded, “Yes sir.”

“Good, now go get ready. You and Seresin are up first.”

“Course we are.” You nodded leaving the classroom slowly to go get changed. You’d been lucky to avoid being teamed up with him the last few training sessions, but your luck seemed to end today.

Jake was interesting to you. You certainly didn’t hate the man, but he made it so hard to actually enjoy his presence. He always had that stupid cocky grin on his face like nothing could knock it off. You had only seen him slip up with Rooster once other than that he was his usual arrogant self.

Changing quickly, you knew the faster you were up in the air the faster your session would be with Hangman. Exiting the women’s locker room, you made your way to your jet. Going through the pre-flight checklist thoroughly you didn’t hear your teammate approach you.

“Going to be able to keep up today, Jinx?” Jake leaned his frame against your jet taking a full look of you. A soft smile formed when he saw just how focused you were on your task at hand, hardly paying him any attention. He’d never admit it, but he lived for moments like this with you. Moments where he could study you without the world knowing just what he was doing.

He met you at the Hard Deck the night before Top Gun. You seemingly knew Phoenix and Rooster from a previous deployment. You quickly grabbed Jake’s attention with that pretty smile and angelic laugh. Jake swore he could hear your giggle across the bar. A sound so pretty he’d never dare to admit it to anybody.

He grabbed your attention in any way that he could. Even if it meant being the bad guy in your reality. At least you were paying him the attention he craved from you. Quickly, he found what pressed your buttons and made sure to press them whenever he could. Just to get into a debate with you. He loved it. He adored you.

Looking up at the interruption you kept the level head on your shoulders. Trying to do what Phoenix did so gracefully, “Can you just fly the mission? Not pull your usual bullshit Seresin?”

Placing a hand on his chest he feigned hurt, “I’m wounded Jinxie.”

Ignoring him you continued, “Can you? For once.”

Smirking he started sauntering off, like he owned the damn air strip, “Doubtful darling. Gotta be fast.” He threw you a wink before disappearing into his jet.

Rolling your eyes, you tried not to let him get the best of you. It was typical Hangman behavior. One that you would never be able to crack it seemed. You thought maybe you’d be able to in the beginning. You should’ve just listened to Rooster and Phoenix instead of trying with him. All it ended in was arguments every single time you tried to have a normal conversation with the man. You couldn’t lie though, there was something so damn appealing about Jake Seresin that kept you crawling back for more.

Signing off on your paperwork you hopped into your jet. Placing your helmet on you smiled as you took in the front dash. You just loved this. It never ceased to amaze you just how lucky you were. You were able to fly jets across the world. Meeting new people and finding new cultures never got old to you. And you got to fly around on top of it all? You loved every single second of your Naval career. Not having a single regret about all of your adventures.

Taxing onto the runway you waited behind Hangman as he got the all clear. He was Dagger One in this scenario, and you were Dagger Two. Thankfully, all you had to do was keep up with him and not have him on your ass chirping you every five seconds. You hated flying as Dagger One with Hangman as your wingman. It felt like your heart would burst from the sheer stress of trying to deal with him.

You got the all clear taking off finding Hangman in the straightaway. You accelerated already noticing how fast he was moving before you even begun the timed trial. Mav raced in beside the two keeping an eye out, “Two minutes fifteen seconds until target. Time begins when Hangman clocks it. Good luck.” Mav flew off above watching the duo from his eagle eye view.

“Ready Jinx?”

You were honestly surprised he gave you any warning before he took off, “Ready when you are Hangman.”

“Let’s turn and burn baby.” You heard the clock begin. Locking your eyes onto the back of Hangman’s jet you decided he wouldn’t be getting away from you that easily this time.

You kept up for the first thirty seconds before he punched it even further, “Hangman you’re going to fast!” You yelled into your mask trying to accelerate yourself. You started losing him as he only punched it even further.

“You’re not going fast enough!” He countered.

Your eyes lowered knowing he wasn’t going to let up so you sped up as much as your comfort level would allow you, which still wasn’t fast enough, “Hangman slow down!” You began pleading with the asshole pilot.

“Speed up Y/N!”

He never used your real name. He was challenging you. Sighing to yourself you kicked it up a notch not feeling all that great with your speed and closeness to the ground, “I can’t keep up!”

You heard him audibly groan into the comms, “Jesus Jinx, fine.”

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as his jet dropped speed suddenly. You knew you didn’t have enough time to slow down, or you’d plow right into the back of him. Decelerating at the same time you dipped slightly to avoid crashing right into him, “Shit, Jake what the fuck was that?”

“You said to slow down so I did.” You could practically hear the cockiness lace his voice from a mile away.

“Not like that you fucking asshole.” You sighed this time feeling your heart rate go down a bit. You’d had many close encounters in the jet but nothing like that.

“Hey Jinxie. Calm down.”

“Jesus,” You grumbled positioning your jet back up behind his, “Just go Seresin.”

You weren’t sure what happened but one second you were fine the next your right engine was out and your left one started sputtering, “Fuck.” Internally cursing you didn’t have a back seater to help you talk yourself through the next few minutes. Thankfully your training kicked in.

“Right engine out. No Fire. Restarting. Left engine compromised.” Calmly you spoke into your mask.

“Jinx?” You heard Mav’s voice come in.

“Jinxie what’s wrong?” Hangman’s voice chimed in right after Mavericks. He failed to see you behind him as he sped back up.

Desperately you hit the right combination of buttons, but nothing seemed to feed the engine the fuel it needed. “Shit. Not responding. Climbing to 5,000.” You pulled you plane into the climbing position trying to buy yourself some time.

“Jinx. What’s going on?” Mav sounded concerned.

As you were in the middle of pulling up your heart sank hearing another alarm go off, “Oh shit. Left engine out. No fire. Attempting restart.” You managed to stagger out. Again, you attempted to refuel and refire the engine

Mav came down to your level eyes wide seeing neither of your engines burning, “Jinx eject!” He sounded a bit panicked you noted.

Your training was kicking in though. You had maybe five seconds to try again. After that you’d have to eject or you’d be toast, literally.

“Restarting right and left engine.” Ignoring Mav’s orders, you punched and prayed the engines would respond.

“Jinx eject now!” Maverick commanded you.

“Fuck! Eject Jinxie! Now” You didn’t see Hangman come back around surveying the situation he believed he put you into.

No sign of life from your jet really caused your heart to sink knowing you really only had one option now. Your heart started racing seeing how low to the ground you already were, 2,000 fucking feet. This was going to hurt, “Fuck, ejecting.” You pulled the handle from underneath your seat sending you into the air.

The next thirty seconds felt like a blur as you were free-falling in the air. Your parachute worked it was just terribly disorienting. You’d trained for this but had never had to do it in the field. Shuddering, you heard your jet crash into the desert below. This wasn’t going to be very easy to explain to the admiral.

You knew you were far too low to the ground when you were in the jet to make a graceful landing. You just didn’t expect how bad it would actually hurt once you hit the rocks of the desert below you. You hit the ground hard and fast, the parachute not having the proper amount feet to descend to really break your fall.

Rolling to a stop as the back of your head hit a boulder immediately you knew something wasn’t right. Hardly being able to keep your eyes open you attempted to stand up only falling right back into the same spot you rolled into, “Fuck.” You groaned closing your eyes feeling terribly weak.

You didn’t see any blood on your chest or legs which was a very good sign, but you just couldn’t keep your eyes open. The only way you seemed to stay coherent after cracking your head against the bolder was fluttering your eyes.

Hearing the faint mumbles of Mav and Hangman you couldn’t really make them out. You tried to stand again but miserably failed as your legs shook far too violently to stand on their own. A small tear fell down your face as the feeling of utter defeat began to take over. You had never experienced your body giving out on you so dramatically before. It was humbling when you couldn’t even stand on your own two feet.

Trying to keep your eyes open you focused on the words coming through your comms. You faintly heard Maverick, “Jinx, please copy.”

Before your eyes completely gave out on you, you heard another soft, “Jinxie please!” Sounding awfully familiar to Hangman’s usually annoying voice.

Opening your mouth, you so desperately wanted to let them know you were alive. You were okay. But you just couldn’t seem to get the words out.

“Mav, I didn’t see a parachute, did you?” Shit, they thought you were dead? You were risky but not risky enough to kill yourself.

“I think I did. Fuck. Jinx, please copy.” He tried you one more time a little beside himself. He’d witnessed the entire accident in horrifying detail taking him right back to his own accident from years prior. You pulled your plane up just as Hangman punched it immediately shutting your right engine down and compromising the left with the wash he left behind. He’d seen it several times out in the field but nothing that bad since his own accident.

Frustrated that you couldn’t communicate with your teammates you began to cry more opting you to slide the helmet right off your head to get some fresh air. Feeling a warm trickle down the back of your neck you hesitantly turned your helmet over revealing a rather large crack near the base of it. This was a very bad sign.

Slowly you placed a hand to the back of your skull slightly horrified at the red blood that coated your hand entirely. Fuck. You knew this wasn’t good at all. Trying to stay conscious you unzipped a pant leg off your flight suit planning to use that as a cloth to apply pressure to your head wound.

With all your strength you had left you leaned your head against the boulder placing the piece of flight suit in between praying you had enough pressure to keep you awake while you waited for rescue. Realistically you knew you only had to wait a few minutes before a team of medics were on the way. They were probably already halfway to you. All you had to do now was keep your eyes open. You could do that.

Grabbing your helmet, you decided to listen to the air chatter knowing at the very least it’d keep you focused on something rather than falling into unconsciousness. It pained you to hear the desperate plea’s from not only Hangman and Mav but command as well. It seemed as if everybody was trying to get you to respond.

Again, you attempted to speak only to be met with the utter silence of nothing coming out. It’s like the rock knocked your ability to speak right out of your own head. It was a rather gut-wrenching feeling to not be able to say a word. Just to let them know that you were okay. But you couldn’t. Your body simply refused.

Another few minutes passed which felt like hours as you sat there in the beating sun. Just as you were about to give into the darkness you heard the helicopter above you. Looking over a few vehicles approached in the distance. A small smile flickered on your face knowing they finally made it to you.

Before you knew it a few medics approached you quickly triaging the situation. They realized how incoherent you really were as you tried responding to their questions but couldn’t seem to talk.

“Hey Jinx. We’re going to patch you up alright?” A familiar face leaned down brushing the hair out of your face, “Just try and stay awake, okay?” It clicked that it was your team’s physician. He knew you very well taking your vitals and stats all the time.

“Let them know we’ve got her. Critical care.” You heard him say before placing something cold around your neck.

“You’re going to be alright. We’re taking you to the base hospital.” He smiled softly at you before he gave the next round of orders to his team.

The next while was a blur of you floating in and out of consciousness mixed with tons of people asking you too many questions. None of which you could answer as your voice was still missing.

Finally, you were able to sleep given the okay from a worried looking doctor you’d never seen before. You couldn’t seem to care as unconsciousness swallowed you whole.

The faint beeping brought you out of the deep slumber you were in. Rolling your head to the side you spotted Hangman sleeping in the chair next to your bed. Initial confusion rolled over you and you unfortunately heard the beeping pick up pace rapidly.

The change in background noise brought Hangman out of the light sleep he was in. He had been waiting on you for the last twelve hours or so. Refusing to leave your side until he knew that you were okay.

The initial prognosis given to them wasn’t great. The medics noted you as delirious, out of it, non-responsive before you went out completely. It worried him beyond belief. Especially knowing it was likely his actions that got you here. Mav kept trying to reassure him that it wasn’t his fault, but you got caught up in his jet wash. Just like Mav did all those years ago. It’s a freak occurrence and 99% of the time jets handle it fine. You were just one of the unlucky ones.

He looked over to you seeing your panicked expression. His face softened as he realized how much this must be for you, “Hey Jinx. You’re in the hospital. Do you remember what happened?”

You felt some sense of relief knowing he was real. Sitting right there. You weren’t dreaming. You were back to the land of the living. You nodded recalling having to eject from your jet. You don’t remember much after that though.

“Can you speak?” He scooted the chair closer, so he was right up on the bed, right next to you.

“Yeah.” You managed to croak out. Your throat was feeling rather dry. Likely from all the sand and dirt you inhaled out there.

Grinning at the sound of your voice he grabbed your hand, “Good, let me go get a doctor.” He began to stand up before you stopped him by grabbing at his hand like he just did yours.

“No!”

He paused cocking his head to the side studying you curiously, “Just give me a minute. They’re going to ask a lot of questions and…” You paused not sure if he was even listening. This was Hangman after all. To your utter surprise he had his eyes locked on you, soaking up your every word. You decided to continue, “My head really hurts. I don’t want to talk to them just yet.”

Sighing Hangman looked all too conflicted. What was five minutes anyway? On the other hand, if your head really hurt you that bad why didn’t you want to see a doctor? Didn’t you want the help? Opting to go with your wishes he sat back down making a note of the time, he wasn’t going to give you more than the five minutes you requested.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly seeing him sit there against his better judgement.

“Sure. Are you alright at least?”

Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath in, “I’m okay. I just don’t feel great.”

“You scared us up there. You scared me.” He admitted whispering it almost so you couldn’t here.

Mustering a small halfhearted laugh, “Like you really care Seresin.” His face dropped immediately after your comment. Meaning it in more of a joking manner you didn’t think he’d take you so seriously.

“Why would you say that? Of course, I care Y/N.”

“One less pilot you have to deal with.” You kept trying to joke with him, but he wasn’t letting you. Taking it far more seriously than you were.

Shaking his head he grabbed your hand, “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

He groaned. Frustrated that he wasn’t so great at showing real emotion, “Acting like I don’t care. I do care. A lot.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” It slipped out way faster than intended. You didn’t want to make him feel like a total asshole, but your concussed brain had other ideas.

Head down Jake sighed, “I’m sorry Jinxie. I really am. I never would have thought… I wouldn’t have done that if I would have known…”

“It’s okay Jake.” You shushed him. You had never seen this side of the cocky Jake Seresin before. You weren’t even sure if Jake had a more human side to him. All it took was you nearly cracking your head open to get him there. Who would’ve known?

He shook his head, “It’s not though. What happened to you. Seeing your plane go into freefall and not seeing you eject was hell Y/N. And then you didn’t respond? Mav and I could only think the worst.” His stare could have bore holes into the back of your head.

Cheeks heating up you turned away from him, “Well, I’m still here.”

Jake smiled picking your hand back up feeling the urge to have you close, “Thank goodness for that.”

Stitching your eyebrows together you looked him over, “You going soft on us?”

“Not on us.”

“What?” You asked him sincerely.

“Only for you.”

Sucking in another breath you turned on your side to face him completely, “What do you mean?”

“I can’t lose you Y/N.”

Where was all of this coming from? While you had to admit he was an incredibly attractive guy you never thought in a million years he’d be going for you. All the two of you did was bicker back and forth. Sure, it never got nasty but the two of you could never agree on the same thing. Not even toppings on a pizza. There always had to be an argument between the two of you.

“Are you saying you like me Jake?” eyeing him curiously you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as you anxiously waited for his answer.

He looked up at you. Studying your face for any sign of contempt. For any sign that your repulsed by the sheer fact that not only did he have a full-on crush on you. He was sure he just might love you to.

Nodding his head in agreement it he finally admitted it out loud, “Yes Jinxie. I like you.”

Smiling to him you grabbed one of his hands this time, “You know we aren’t in middle school anymore Jake.”

“Hmm?”

“If you like someone you can be nice to them. You know instead of making them eject and landing them in the hospital.”

Chucking he looked you right in the eyes, “I’m sorry Y/N. Would you give me a chance to prove I’m not a middle school boy?”

Returning his laugh you squeezed his hand, “I’d love to get to know adult Jake.”

“Friday. 6 o’clock. I’m picking you up and taking you out to a nice dinner.”

Raising your eyebrows you took another long look at him, “I can’t wait.”

[sage-nebula]

STH - Finalizing the Pre-Departure Checklist

Notes: I actually have another fic that I've been intending to have finished today, but partway through writing the conclusion of that fic I got distracted by the idea for this one, so here is this for now. I will clean it up later. Spoilers for the ending of Sonic Frontiers, as well as for the Sonic 1 ending cutscene from Sonic Origins.

- - -

Filled water canteens, check. Canned food and energy bar provisions, check. Instant coffee canister, check. Miles Electric, check. Wooden comb, check. Dry shampoo, check. Blankets, check. Magnet gun, flash bombs, emergency grenades—check, check, check. Everything he needed for at least a few days of travel was ready and accounted for, packed in a backpack. After looking through the bag for a third time, just to make sure he was absolutely ready, Tails tossed it into the cockpit of the Cyclone. He had her parked outside for once, behind his Mystic Ruins workshop, ready for takeoff. It had been so long since he’d flown her; she was a solo-craft, not suited for multiple passengers, and so she saw much less use than the Tornado did. But this was a solo trip, and the Cyclone provided him with land travel as much as she did air. She was much better suited for this journey. With one last look at the back door to his workshop to make sure he’d locked it, Tails spun his tails so he could jump into the cockpit—

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna leave without saying goodbye.”

His concentration broken, the rhythm of his tails halted just enough for Tails to land back on the ground with a stumble. Sonic’s hand caught his arm before he had a chance to topple over, and Tails turned stunned eyes on his big brother’s teasing smile as Sonic eased him back onto his feet.

“I left a note,” Tails said, his mind still catching up with the fact that he’d been alone behind the workshop not a second ago. Trust Sonic’s speed to—

“A note? All these years, and that’s all I get? A note?” Sonic put a hand over his heart. “That hurts me, Tails. Right here.”

Tails rolled his eyes. He knew played up theatrics when he saw them. “You already knew I was leaving. We saw each other a day ago. And you hate goodbyes anyway, so—”

“You’re right. I do. And I’ll probably leave this one before it’s over, but . . .” Sonic shrugged. “I still want to see you off. Make sure you’ve got everything you need.”

Sonic cared. Of course he did. And Tails understood, because he cared about Sonic, too. How many times had he made sure that Sonic had all the tech he could possibly need before a dangerous mission? How many times had he used a drone to deliver a forgotten canteen or extra aqua bubble powerup just in case something went wrong? This is what they did—they looked out for each other. That’s all Sonic was doing now, and Tails knew that.

But he was supposed to be proving his independence, proving that he could stand on his own. And that meant not needing someone to look through his provisions like he was a kid going on a field trip. Tails ran his tongue along his teeth and looked away, turning his eyes up to the sky. Cirrus clouds—a good sign. Just what he needed for an easy flight. “No worries. I’ve got everything covered.”

“Good.” Sonic leaned against the Cyclone, and after a moment, tapped her side with his knuckles. “Not taking the Tornado, huh?”

Tails blinked, caught off-guard by the sudden topic change, and looked back over. “No, she’s yours.”

“Pft. I’ve been meaning to give her to you for ages now. Should’ve done it a long time ago.” Sonic crossed his arms loosely over his stomach, an easy smile on his face, but there was something different about it Tails couldn’t quite parse. “You can take her if you want. You should take her.”

As—touching? weird? confusing?—as it was that Sonic was suddenly handing over ownership of the Tornado, Tails couldn’t let it distract him. He shook his head. “Even if you want to give her to me, that doesn’t change the fact that you can fly her, and you might need her. Besides, she’s got a double cockpit now, and I’m flying solo. It’s better for her to be here in case you go on a trip where you need to take someone with you. Amy, or Knuckles, or someone.”

“. . . Yeah. You’re probably right.” Like with his smile, there was something off about Sonic’s tone. And Tails couldn’t identify exactly what it was that he was hearing, but whatever it was, it told him that Sonic probably wasn’t going to be taking the Tornado out of the hangar any time soon. “So. You’re all set to take off, then?”

“Yep.” Tails patted the Cyclone’s side, ran his hand over her freshly dried coat of paint.

“Got a destination in mind?”

“Nope. I’m just gonna go wherever feels right. See where the wind takes me, you know.” Not unlike what Sonic himself always did, meaning that Tails was following in his example yet again, but he was going to try very hard not to think about that.

“Sounds like my kind of adventure. And everything’s in working order—GPS, comms . . . ?”

Tails felt the fur along his back stand on end, and when he turned to look at Sonic, his agitation must’ve shown in his face, for Sonic held his hands up in a placating gesture.

“Hey, I know you can take care of yourself,” Sonic said, and for what it was worth, he did sound sincere. “I just want to make sure—”

“I know,” Tails said, and honest to Chaos he didn’t mean to sound so terse. “I can handle it. I’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Sonic said. “But you know, if something came up—there’s nothing wrong with calling in a little backup. Heck, if it wasn’t for you, Knuckles, and Amy, I’d still be a cyber-zombie back on the Starfall Islands. We all need a little help sometimes.”

“If it wasn’t for us, you wouldn’t have been corrupted in the first place,” Tails muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Tails forced a smile as he met Sonic’s eyes again. “Look, I know this is a bit . . . different. And I know you’re just trying to look out for me, and I appreciate it, I really do. But I’ll be fine. That’s what this whole journey is about, right? Proving that I can make it on my own? It’d be disappointing if it turned out I couldn’t, so—”

“Nothing you do could ever be disappointing,” Sonic said, and something uncomfortable wormed in Tails’ gut at the look on Sonic’s face. He turned away again, his tails swishing around him. “But that’s not . . . having your own adventure doesn’t have to mean cutting yourself off from everyone, you know. So you don’t need to call for backup. So what? Doesn’t mean you can’t call just to say hey.”

Tails frowned. “I never said I couldn’t.”

“Great.” There was a smug grin in Sonic’s voice—one Tails had heard so many times over the years, usually right after one of Eggman’s plans had just been ruined. “Then I look forward to hearing from you at least once a week.”

“What?” Tails looked over, aghast, and was met with the exact smile he knew he was going to see. “You can’t be ser—”

Sonic held up his hand. “Doesn’t have to be a phone call. You know I hate talking on the phone. And it definitely doesn’t have to be every day, because we both know I suck at keeping track of what day it is. But just, you know. An email. Once a week. Doesn’t have to be long. Just a couple lines to say hey, let me know how you’re doing, if you’ve seen anything cool in your travels. Just enough so it’s not like you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

It was— Tails wanted to scream, just a little. Because it wasn’t an unreasonable request. It wasn’t like his plan was to disappear off the face of the earth. It’s not like he was trying to cut himself off from his friends. But that also—it wasn’t the point. He wanted to be independent, wanted to prove that he was more than the burdensome little brother that Sonic always had to look after, and if Sonic was still looking after him via weekly check-in emails, then didn’t that defeat the point?

“You never sent weekly check-in emails when you were traveling,” Tails muttered, and he hated how petulant he sounded.

“Yeah, well. That’s big brother privilege,” Sonic said, and perhaps sensing the argument even before Tails opened his mouth, added, “And not the best example set, fair enough. That’s my bad. But I’ll send emails too, in response to yours. We’ll keep in better contact this time. Deal?”

It wasn’t what Tails had had in mind, when he’d decided to go off on his own. But it wasn’t an unreasonable request. Sonic was actually admitting that something he did in the past maybe wasn’t the greatest idea in the world. And from the look on his face, Tails could tell that this really mattered to him.

And for some reason, that made Tails’ throat feel a little choked. He nodded, in lieu of being able to say anything, and Sonic’s posture finally relaxed.

“Okay. Good. Glad we got that sorted.” Sonic stood up straight, free of the Cyclone. He considered Tails for a moment before a half-smile curled his muzzle. “And—one more thing.”

Tails tilted his head, his throat still a little too thick for him to trust his voice. Luckily, Sonic took his head tilt for the cue to continue that it was.

“I don’t think I ever told you this, but—you remember how we met on West Side Island, right?”

Tails nodded. He didn’t know how he could forget.

“Well . . . did I ever tell you why I was on West Side Island?”

Tails blinked, the confusion he felt enough to finally unstick his throat. “No. But it was because Eggman was there, right? He was harvesting animals to use as batteries for his badniks, and so he could build the Death Egg.”

“Well, yeah. But also no.” Before Tails could question what that was supposed to mean, Sonic continued. “Eggman was on South Island before he went to West Side. It just so happens that I was also on South Island, and so I freed the animals there and chased him off.”

“Yeah, I kn—”

“I chased him off as Super Sonic. With the Chaos Emeralds. And before the Chaos Emeralds scattered, they showed me something.” Sonic grinned, his eyes bright. “Wanna know what they showed me?”

“I . . . guess?”

“You. Well,” Sonic waved a hand through the air, “not you exactly, but they showed me West Side Island, so that’s how I knew to go there. And that’s where I met you.” Sonic grinned, and lightly poked Tails on his forehead. “So what I’m trying to say here is, even if you decide to skip out on your weekly email, you can rest assured that the Chaos Emeralds won’t.”

Tails stared at Sonic for a second as he put the pieces together, and then blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Are you saying the Chaos Emeralds are going to snitch on me?”

Sonic laughed, and ruffled the fur atop Tails’ head, heedless of Tails’ attempts to swat his hand away. “Bro, you have no idea how fast they’ll snitch on you. They were snitching on you before we even met. So if I were you, I wouldn’t give ‘em a reason to do it again.”

The fur atop his head now thoroughly ruffled, Tails blew his bangs in a vain attempt to get them back out of his eyes. “The only thing I’m thinking about giving them a reason to do is mind their own business. Do they seriously have nothing better to do than spy on people?”

“Who can say? The Chaos Emeralds work in mysterious ways.” Sonic shrugged, but his expression softened. “But that’s just a backup plan. Just in case . . .”

“I know. And they won’t be needed. I’ll be fine,” Tails said, and added, because he knew Sonic needed to hear him say it, “and I’ll email. Once a week.”

Sonic smiled. And before Tails could say anything else, or could think to turn to the Cyclone, Sonic darted forward and pulled him into a hug. For a split second, Tails wasn’t sure how to respond; one arm thrown around his shoulders was one thing, and not too uncommon a thing at that, but a full-on hug was a different story altogether. Those were so much rarer. But Sonic’s hug was secure and warm, and knowing that it would be the last time for a long time that he’d have the chance to hug his brother, Tails hugged him back just as tightly.

But the hug was over as quickly as it happened. Sonic stepped back, his hands on Tails’ shoulders. He was still smiling, but—Tails was sure he was imagining it, but it looked like it was wavering a little.

“Take care of yourself, partner,” Sonic said. His voice sounded a little tight. “I’ll . . . see you later.”

Tails nodded. “You too, Sonic. I’ll be in touch.”

Sonic nodded, and gave Tails’ shoulders one last, bracing squeeze. In the next second he was gone, and Tails was once again standing alone beside the Cyclone.