#Wes is probably like “Guys... I can hear the ocean through the wall!” | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inoreuct · 3 months

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i mean- if youre willing to write the angstier version 🥺🥺

https://www.tumblr.com/inoreuct/738704605780885504/thinking-about-zoro-being-the-crews-main

more than willing 🤭 enjoy!!

everything kind of hurts when nami comes to.

she honestly can’t tell if she’s opened her eyes or not; it’s all pitch black, and her eyelids feel gummy. the lashes of her left eye are crusted together with what’s probably the same thing making her forehead stiff, so that’s most likely blood. lovely.

the back of her skull bumps against something hard and cold with damp as she cranes her neck around, trying to get her bearings, and she can bend her wrists just enough to confirm that those are chains wrapped around them above her head. it's still too dark to see but she can smell salty air, mildew and rust, hear the vague murmur of the ocean; her body feels sore and stiff all over but she can't have been hanging here long. her shoulders haven't started hurting the way she knows they can.

something moves within the shadows ahead, and nami deliberately keeps her breathing even as footsteps get closer to her. the person reaches the wall to her left and pries something away— a plank, she realises, as moonlight starts spilling through the barred window and the face of her visitor is thrown into sharp relief.

the man is pale, slim to the point of being gaunt with a greasy, grimy quality about him; she presses her teeth together as he slinks forward and clasps his hands behind his back and cocks his head.

“cat-burglar nami,” he begins, beady eyes blinking. "tell us your plans."

her eyebrows go up in a flash, lips pinching in bemusement. getting right to business, are we? "we don't have any," she laughs, and chokes when a fist sinks into her gut.

she admits that she hadn’t expected that as she sputters, coughing as her lungs burn. people usually work up to it; a little bit more forceful questioning and a couple of threats against, say, anything and everything she’s ever loved, and then she’d figure they’d start punching. this man, or whoever he represents— they’re desperate.

and he just proves her right, god, men are so predictable. "what do you mean, you don't have any?" he spits, jagged nails digging in as he grabs her chin forcefully.

nami chuckles again, weak huffs that make her chest heave. her shoulders are starting to ache. “we see someone that needs help and we help them. we don't plan anything."

another swing, straight to her solar plexus. "where's your crew?"

"you don’t… interrogate people often, do you?” she wheezes, and holds her breath as his fist draws back again. the pain bites and then blooms across her cheek, blood-hot and thrumming like an infection, and she works her tongue between tooth and soft flesh, the pocket around her lower gums as she bares a grin and turns her head.

"where is your crew."

this time, when nami's laugh flutters from her mouth, blood goes with it. "here." she takes great pleasure at the fear that singes the edges of the man's face before he tries to blank it again. it’s not very effective. "they're here."

"impossible," he sneers. "we're on a deserted island in the middle of nowhere."

it’s false fucking bravado and it fills her with a sick sense of glee as she smirks at him through sweat-sticky lashes. "impossible's what we're best at, if you haven't noticed." she has no doubt that her nakama have already tracked her down. it’s a matter of time before luffy takes the roof off this place or sanji kicks the door down with a flaming leg.

the third possibility, well— this guy better hope it’s not zoro that comes for her.

she watches as the man digs into his pocket, his breathing harsh. “fine.” the brass knuckles he slips over his fingers gleam in the low light, a pretty polished bronze, and nami’s mouth goes dry. “you don’t wanna tell me? fine.”

all she knows for a while after that is pain. hell, she’d never even been beaten this badly under arlong’s thumb, and aside from the occasional swat to the wrist her mother hadn’t hit her either. this, though— it’s slam after slam of metal into her gut with a hand pinning her shoulder to the wall. her entire body shuts down for a moment when the hard edges jab into her liver, and she chokes back a scream when she feels her ribs snap seconds after she hears them break.

the air feels too thick when he finally pulls back, damp with her own breath, her body hot all over and shivery with pain. this isn’t an interrogation— this is someone taking out their frustrations, and it’s confusing because she doesn’t even know one, who this guy is and two, what they did to warrant such a violent retribution because, and she reiterates, she has no idea who the fuck this guy is. if it turns out that he’s just a nobody who got too ballsy she is going to be relieved but so, so mad.

her entire body’s starting to feel like one big bruise. the joints of her arms burn as she tries to lift herself up, to take some weight off her shoulders, but a cold chill settles in the pit of her stomach when she sees the glint of metal. something else, as if the knuckles weren’t enough— silver this time, sharp and liquid, and she is gonna throw luffy in the godsdamned ocean for taking his own sweet fucking time because where the hell are they.

her new personal annoyance breathes a huff of a laugh as he slowly drags the knife down the front of her blouse (and thank god she’d decided to wear one today), grazing over the shiny buttons until there's a soft snck and the dull sound of the very last one clattering to the floor. "still not talking?”

…okay, that's it. time to get out of here. "fuck you," she says loudly, turning her face towards the window so her voice carries even as she keeps her eyes on the leering bastard in front of her. hello? she wants to yell, the voice in her head steeped in annoyance and fringed in just the tiniest bit of anxiety. i needed backup in here ten minutes ago? ring ring? anyone there?

she can see the looks on her crewmates’ faces. luffy would have that big sheepish grin on, one hand pressed to the top of his hat on his head as she reams him out for their tardiness before he blames it on zoro, the swordsman looking off to the side with a hand on his hilts, in a stubborn sulk.

the knife digs into her cheekbone, grimy fingers squishing her face, and nami grins as she chokes out the first name that comes to mind, under her breath and half-mouthed. "zoro."

he's here, she's sure. her crew is already here and he’ll hear her, he always does. she can feel it in her bones, in the blood that's dripping from her chin, because zoro's never let any of them down. he’s one of the first people who had understood the weight of guilt and unwanted responsibility crushed onto her shoulders, even through her betrayal, and he’d fought for her freedom without hesitation. he won't let anything happen to her. luffy wouldn't, sanji wouldn't, usopp wouldn't— they're gonna get her out of here and then she’s gonna see these bastards burned to the fucking ground.

nami’s a pretty thing, she knows. all short skirts and slender hands and freckled skin but she packs a punch, and she can take one too. she’s held out this long and she can do longer if need be.

she isn’t afraid to ask for help anymore, either— not since then, that faraway time when she’d pushed metal through the only physical evidence of her ties to the man who she’d nursed so much hatred for, hatred that she’d turned into strength.

the man pushes her face away and the tip of the knife nicks across her skin, a shallow slice down to the right side of her upper lip and then the knife is moving, a bright flash of silver, and her voice breaks when it stabs right into her shoulder.

it fucking burns. the tip wedges between the joint, slowly snapping cartilage as the man twists it with a cackle, and she seethes through her teeth. luffy had taught her that strength was asking for help. that admitting that you need someone to save you, if only in that moment, is the bravest thing anyone could do. zoro had taught her to wield it like a weapon, to withstand the strongest of the storms of her own creation—

and she grins, now, as the blade cuts through her flesh and blood drips into her mouth, eyes wild. “zoro!”

the knife drives deeper into her shoulder, white-hot. "cry all you want. they won't get here in time."

that pain is a reminder that she is alive.

her core tenses as she kicks off the wall and drives her boot into the man's gut, heel slamming into his spleen— it winds him enough that he doubles over gasping and nami smiles painfully wide, a wild, vindictive thing. "fuck. you."

“you’re gonna regret that, bitch,” he hisses, and he’s shaking, trembling as he drags himself upright and nami knows that by the gods, he’s only human and she’ll kick him again. she’ll kick him as many times as it takes. sanji would be so proud.

she huffs a laugh, mean and low and raw as she presses her cheek against her bicep and lets her head tip down. she’ll rest, just for a little while before she gets back to fighting and clawing like a bat out of hell. something flickers at the edges of her vision, warm orange bleeding into the peripheral even through her lowered lashes and a soft, whispering crackle that carries on the breeze, smelling of ash— fire. a resounding boom shakes the walls and the man’s head snaps to the window, to say something or maybe to yell—

nami doesn’t get the chance to find out before a blade cleaves him clean in two.

the vertical halves of his body stay frozen for a split second before they slide apart and crumple into a mess of pink and ivory, slick red on the rough-hewn floor. wado gleams wickedly in the moonlight as zoro flicks the gore off her blade, shining silver streaked with the same blood that drips from the swordsman’s face.

“witch,” he grits out, eyes blazing beneath his bandana as he pushes a seething breath through his teeth, and there’s clear worry in the way he uses the side of his hand to push her sweaty bangs off her face and tilt her head up. it reminds her of her mother checking her forehead for fever, and she almost laughs. “you good?”

nami’s eyes burn as she stares at him tiredly. “no. i’m not fucking good,” she deadpans. “get me down.”

sparks shower down above her head as zoro cuts through the chain stringing her up, and her stomach swoops when she drops before an arm catches her around the waist. she cries out as it hits her ribs directly and zoro swears, his sword clattering— and then nami's world tilts as she's leaned carefully against the wall and zoro's face swims into view.

"hands out."

"what took so long?" she snaps weakly, trying to catch her breath. her hair bunches against the wet, grimy stone, and now that there's nothing to worry about she almost gags.

"they weren't completely stupid. took a while to find you," zoro grits, voice tight, before his face softens. "now put your hands out."

it's a struggle to lift them but she manages, albeit with her arms lopsided. the iron shackles around her wrists and rusted and heavy, tight enough that the skin of her wrists is itching, and her arms ache something fierce as zoro slices through the short chain connecting them and then eases his blade through the scarce gap between metal and skin to pop them open one by one.

she hears a cannon boom again. franky, probably— the walls shake and all of a sudden she’s aware of the raw relief coursing through her system, so much that it hurts, like blood rushing back to a limb. she’s lightheaded with it. or perhaps that’s… something else, she ponders faintly, as a knee buckles underneath her and zoro hauls her up before she can fall.

"just hang on, witch, i've got you,” she hears him murmur, squinting at him in the orange light as she’s lifted horizontal, an arm below her back and one beneath her knees.

her own arm flops uselessly, blood soaking her sleeve and collecting in the crease of her elbow. nami reaches up to find purchase and digs her manicured nails into the swordsman’s trapezium. "zoro."

a pause in movement as he looks down. "hm?"

she pulls herself up enough (or pulls him down enough, she can’t tell) to look him in the eye and says, low and dangerous, "i can't do it myself right now, so— give them hell, but don’t kill them. make an example of them. make them a warning.” the last word is spoken quiet enough that she can barely hear it herself, and zoro’s eyes are deadly serious. “death’s a privilege i don’t want them having just yet."

she can tell that the idea doesn't sit well with him; he bristles like an angry cat and his nostrils flare, but she knows he understands when he jerks a nod at her all the same as they step through the busted door and past piles of bodies, all the way out until they’re graced by the last smears of yolk-orange sun across the sky.

somewhere, luffy laughs.

nami shifts and as far as she can see, her crew is going fucking ham. she watches usopp shoot a man point-blank in the face with something that explodes in a shower of red dust and sends him twitching to the ground. another guy goes flying as jinbei quite literally throws him, and a whole row of goons get slammed into a crumbling wall as her captain swings his arm.

“cook!” zoro roars over her head, and it’s barely a second before sanji’s cutting a path towards them, kicking enemies out of the way left, right and centre before he stops right in front of nami.

his mouth parts in a silent question even as his eyes grow stormy blue with anger, face darkening when his gaze locks with zoro’s, and neither of them need to say anything. sanji just nods, solemn, before zoro carefully hands her off and makes sure she’s settled. wado sings as he pulls her out of her scabbard, and he’s relatively out of sight with a spray of coppery red.

nami swallows, suddenly very aware of her dry throat as her temple thumps down on his shoulder, and she gets the sudden ridiculous urge to apologise for her half-dried blood dirtying his suit.

“none of that,” he hushes, and fuck, she must be more out of it than she realised if she’s speaking out loud. sanji chuckles tightly. “you're alright, my dear. we've got you now."

she cranes her neck slightly to check her immediate field of vision, counting off mentally. "where’s everyone else?"

"taking care of things." an elegant hand appears and curls around her broken ribs, making sure they don't jostle as robin walks calmly into view. her beautiful face is serene. “they hurt one of ours. nobody except our crew is walking out of this place.”

nami blinks at her, limbs leaden, eyes narrowing with an irritated sigh as she cradles her injured shoulder against her body. “somebody better get my fucking clima-tact.”

she passes out.

the world is a soft blur when nami wakes, like she’s seeing things through dandelion fluff. or pain meds. probably pain meds. she knows she’s in chopper’s infirmary; the smell of antiseptic is painfully sterile, and she is glad of it. she vaguely remembers being carried in, sanji’s voice pitched low, someone sponging the blood from her skin as chopper’s hooves carefully prodded her torso.

the mattress dimples under her fingers and she jerks a little at the sound of slippers pattering towards her, cutting off abruptly with a yelp and a few hissed words. luffy’s hat is lopsided, gleaming in the afternoon sun.

she slips back into unconsciousness with a smile on her face.

the next time she comes too, she’s still in the infirmary. she doesn’t open her eyes just yet— soft breathing fills her ears, slightly raspy, a soothing rumble like the earth itself is shifting. she knows it’s zoro. it couldn’t be anyone else.

sure enough, the swordsman is asleep next to her pallet, squished into a chair that’s slightly too small with his arms crossed and his chin dipped to his chest.

nami coughs loudly, immediately regretting it as her chest and shoulder flares with pain, and then deciding that it’s worth it when zoro nearly tumbles out of his seat.

they stare at each other for a while. nami raises an eyebrow after three seconds of zoro being wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “how long was i out?”

the swordsman recovers himself with a swallow and a hand scrubbed through his hair. “not long. it’s the second morning after.”

she hums. “who were they?”

“a bunch of idiots who got lucky. we just jumped in and beat the shit outta them like usual.”

a muscle twitches in her forehead because god, they really were just idiots with balls too big for their pants. “and where are they?”

“marooned on that island, s’far as anyone’s concerned. luffy and franky turned their ship to splinters.” the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth is a feral, satisfied thing. “ain’t no way they’re going anywhere anyway, even if they still had a boat. probably can’t even get their sorry asses off the sand. we didn’t kill them—” he says before she can get a word in edgewise, and nami closes her mouth, “but they’re closer to death than life, that’s for damn sure.”

a second’s pause, before she deems the answer satisfactory. “the others?”

“resting. or on watch.”

and it sounds to her for once like there’s nobody rootling around in the kitchens. “awfully quiet, no?”

zoro huffs a laugh, knowing what she means immediately. “the cook told luff to keep it down.”

both her brows go up at that. their captain is not one usually inclined to keep it down. “surprised he listened.”

“he does what he wants.” zoro shrugs, like it’s the simplest thing in the world. “and he wants you to get better, so he listened.”

maybe it really is the simplest thing in the world. luffy is simultaneously layers upon layers and one thin sheet. he is so much and yet still so simple in the way that he cares. nami takes stock for the first time, vision widening to encompass the rest of the room. it’s early morning, early enough that the top of the sky is still dyed dark, pale blue and pink streaking the rest. her body aches all over, concentrated in her shoulder and ribs, bandages looped in layers beneath the soft, loose shirt that she’s pretty sure is sanji’s. there are dark circles smudged under zoro’s eyes and his hair is loose. her clima-tact sits on the table nearby, as does—

luffy’s hat glows in the early dawn, individual strands lighting up like spun gold. it’s old and battered and worn thin. it makes nami’s heart feel warm.

“sorry."

she blinks, turning back to zoro to find him with his head bowed, hands clenched tightly in his lap. “…hey."

"i'm sorry," he says again, taking a deep breath that shifts his massive shoulders as he sits back. "we should've gotten there sooner. they shouldn't have been able to get to you at all—"

"hey." nami pushes a palm against the mattress to sit up before the pain makes her decide against it, grimacing. "don't be stupid. you got there before anything happened."

zoro's eyes are blazing when he finally looks up. "that's bullshit. the fact that they got you at all is—” he bites off his words, chest rising with a measured inhale that she suspects doesn’t help much. “and something happened, witch. a lot happened. you're bruised half to hell. they broke your ribs. your shoulder—"

"will be fine," she stresses, rolling onto her uninjured side to face him.

“your face.”

“superficial.” nami reaches up to press her fingers over the bandage on her cheek, feeling the silhouette of stitches beneath. unbothered by the way zoro’s seething. “our doctor’s one of the best. at worse, now luffy and i match.”

“you’re missing the point,” zoro grits, fists and teeth clenched so hard they both creak. “this wasn’t supposed to happen. nothing like this. not with me around.”

she knows her physical injuries aren’t all he’s talking about. knows he’d noticed the missing button on her shirt. knows that it’s guilt that’s eating him up inside, staining his undereyes the same purple as her bruises and putting that haunted look on his face.

nami sighs. zoro's a dumbass on a good day and he's got the emotional awareness of a brick wall, but of course he has to get this of all things.

she says it sarcastically in her head, but the thought makes her want to curl up and cry. the way he’s staring at her, wide-eyed and waiting for her judgement, makes something in her ache so fondly that she sniffs before she looks down.

he looks his age, for once. not a child anymore but also barely a man. too young to have so much weight on his shoulders, but aren’t they all? the words would be easy to say. it’s not your fault. don’t beat yourself up over it.

but mercy towards himself a language in which zoro is still not yet fluent, so for now she’ll defer to a more familiar tongue. "i'm fine. promise,” she mutters, looking down like she doesn’t mean it with everything she has. like she wouldn’t say anything to make him feel just a little better. “but you keep up with this attitude and i'll add to you debt."

he sputters, weak but still incredulous. "i just saved you, you witch."

"so?" she swallows her heart as she arches a brow. "you didn't do it fast enough. what's your point?"

"you're a tyrant," he breathes, rolling his eyes and huffing a loud breath as he looks away.

nami smirks. "a tyrant who budgets for your liquor with our beri, might i remind you. now go get your cook to make me a snack."

"he's not my cook!" zoro hisses, half in shock, getting up on reflex like a startled animal to yank the door open and storm out.

nami can’t help it— she laughs as tears spill hot down her cheeks, and she swipes them away so her bandage stays dry. it feels so good to be able to banter like this again. she hears her crew now, their voices rising and falling as zoro breaks the news, the cheers going up against the still morning air; it warms her through like fire on a brisk winter’s day. the gauze wound around her torso restricts her movement, but nami eases herself back down into the pillows with a sigh and let the noise of her nakama wash over her.

it soothes the ache. they always do.

(zoro returns within ten minutes with a slice of tangerine cheesecake and a mug of rich, creamy chocolate. sanji's drawn a spiky, frowning mossball on the top with milk foam, and she giggles when she looks up and zoro's making the exact same expression.)

(later, before the sun is even properly up in the sky, her crew curls around her in the tiny room she’s temporarily calling her own. they sit on every available surface and take up every available space, in the infirmary, in her heart; luffy’s cross-legged at the foot of the bed, beaming at her with a mouth full of chocolate biscuit. robin’s hands lift her hair off the nape of her neck. franky’s knitting some sort of sweater with yarn that’s coincidentally her favourite colour, and jinbei’s voice is deep and calming as he chats quietly with brook.

zoro stands, a silent sentinel by the door, arms crossed and brow lowered, and when she catches his eye his face softens.

“you gonna stand there all day?” she asks, brow arching in expectation, and she scoots over to make space for him to squeeze in next to sanji by her hip. their lack of squabbling does not escape her notice, but she’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth— she’ll enjoy her peace and save it for another day.

and there will be another day. she’s planning on sailing with this crew for a long, long time.)

(even later, after everybody else has filed out of the room, zoro remains by her hip. his face is shadowed and unreadable.

“they should have died for what they did to you,” he says, low and soft. not tightly, no, not when she’d already told him it wasn’t what she wanted— not a protest. just a statement.

“you already bisected the one who did it first-hand,” she hums with her thumb shoved halfway through the middle of a tangerine, oil misting into the air, pith gathered beneath her nails as she pries it apart. “isn’t that enough?”

zoro doesn’t look up as he shakes his head, hands clasped in his lap, and nami feels something in her chest soften because zoro, for every good thing he is, has never been one to address how much he cares, and this— this allowance, however indirect, for her— it means a lot. it means everything.

his head snaps up with a frown as the piece of rind she throws smacks him square between the brows, staring down at the slice of fruit she offers him next like it’s something alien.

he shoves it in his mouth anyway, and she bites back a laugh.

they don’t say much more. they don’t need to.)

#well. this wasn’t as zoro-centric as it was supposed to be #more a zoro nami dynamic study. with a sprinkle of romance dawn trio #whatever it’s still delicious DINNER IS SERVED *rings bell to summon yall*#one piece #cat burglar nami #one piece nami #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #strawhat pirates #romance dawn trio #zosan #because there’s always zosan…#also i find it hilarious how nami’s just kind of pissed off. woman’s barely stressed bcs she knows she’ll be fine she’s just MAD #ino writes

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meowmeowmeowmeow4x · 28 days

Text

Dark Blue Moon and the Suffering Sun Chapter 14

hope u all enjoy <3 comment and reblog it really means a lot :>

MASTAPOST

The smell of Atlantean was getting stronger, Danny kept himself and Damian invisible as they perched atop a cliff looking down at the town. He could hear Damian licking his lips. Kid, you literally just ate! Was he thirsting for vegetables or blood?

“Excellent. With your camouflage, we will be able to infiltrate and extract the resources without any trouble.”

Danny waved his hands to cut off that notion. “Hold up. Who says ‘we’ are going to raid the Atlanteans? Why shouldn’t I just leave you here and come back and we can be on our way?”

Damian frowned, fins rattling in offense. “May I remind you who has more experience in this field?”

“True, but your dad might skin me if he found out that I let you become a glorified sea pirate.”

Damian tutted. “What father doesn’t know will not hurt him. Now go! We are wasting time!”

With that, Damian attached himself to Danny’s hip, practically hooking his claws into Danny’s scales. The bloodthirsty theory was beginning to gain traction in Danny’s mind, what with how the kid was audibly purring despite Danny not giving any touches at that moment.

Danny let his invisibility wash over his scales, turning his body from translucent to being one with the water, his powers seeping into Damian’s body and hiding him from view too. Hopefully Aquaman wouldn’t be too upset with them.

The boys approached the Atlantean town from above. Danny’s lateral line pinged dozens olf times. Civilians wandered the streets, peddling wares and chatting about the day. On the far side, trainees tossed javelins and practiced archery while an instructor yelled commands at them.

“There.” Damian whispered. The boy tugged on Danny’s fins, and Danny followed the direction to where the market was. “I believe I spotted a cartographer in the crowd. We should be able to obtain our prize from him.”

As Danny descended and swam just over head of the Atlanteans, his ear fins prickled. Chatter in Atlantean filled the water, none of which Danny could parse out. Hell, even his Pacific Siren was pretty choppy, a fact that Sam endlessly teased him about. Ocean languages were tricky! It wasn’t his fault!

Whatever, point is, Danny spotted the guy. Thin, stocky, wearing a dark blue overcoat and tunic, fit with undersea glasses, carrying rolled up paper underarm. The man shuffled into a small corner shop on the street, a good distance away from the bigger crowd in the market. Danny crept up behind him, careful not to bump into any one.

The shop was nothing impressive, just a humble joint probably frequented by travelers or whatever. Maps of the world decorated the walls, accompanied by globes atop display cases that contained even more charts of the local area. The owner kept his back to them as he bent over a bench and filed away his new acquisitions.

“Now, while his back is turned.” Damian whispered.

Danny swam into the shop through the doorway, careful not to make a single sound. The shopkeeper hummed. Danny compressed his hand through the tiny slit of the display case. He reformed it to its proper size on the inside. He grabbed the closest map and spread his invisibility to it, before pulling it out.

The shopkeeper turned around. Danny’s gills stilled. The man stared at the spot where the map had just been, eyes quirked up. He was none the wiser as Danny turned tail, and exited the shop in swift fashion.

Once out of earshot, Danny let himself relax a little. “Welp, time to get outta here then.”

Damian poked him in the side (thankfully below the gills; that would hurt) and chittered. “Negative.”

“What do you mean negative? We got exactly what you wanted?”

“Not yet. Look.”

…

“You know you’re still invisible, right? I can’t see what you’re pointing at.”

“The seahorses!”

Danny’s face blanched. “You wanna eat the seahorses??”

He felt a whack on his sail. “No, you buffoon. I would like to pet them.”

This kid’s priorities. “If you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in enemy territory here.”

“I am aware, but I have never pet a seahorse before, and I may not get another opportunity like this again.”

Danny’s jaw gaped open. “If you haven’t noticed, there’s an entire ocean ahead of us.”

“Don’t condescend to me. The seahorses are in our vicinity, and there is no guarantee we will come across another school on our journey. Therefore, we go to them now.”

In all honesty, he should’ve expected the kid to be distracted by his love of animals. Hell, Danny could even relate with his own obsession with astronomy.

“Fiiiiine. But I have a bad feeling about this.”

And so Danny flipped fins and brought Damian to the seahorses, as requested. The little things were floating around a coral reef within the town borders, surrounded by a fence. Architectural features like these always reminded him of Dora’s rants about how Atlanteans were essentially humans, and he could see why. What was the point of a fence when everyone and their mother could just swim over it?

Case in point: Danny right now.

Danny lay down on his belly in the sand, keeping a hand on Damian’s shoulder to keep the invisibility flowing. The sea horses swarmed over him, poking curiously at his fins, sensing the disturbance but not seeing it. One particularly brave seahorse even brushed its tail along his gills. Danny had to bite his lip to avoid gasping or giggling from the ticklish sensation. Damian didn’t say anything, but he seemed to be having the time of his life, with how the seahorses’ manes creased from the kid’s touch.

If Danny flexed his ear fins, he could even pick up the slightest cooing sound from the kid. If he could see the younger guppy’s face, he bet it would be split in a huge grin. Then again, Damian didn’t seem the type to express positive emotion so openly like that, but who knows? Maybe the invisibility’s lowering his inhibitions?

A foot brushed his dorsal fin. Danny gasped from the sudden rough touch on his sensitive fin. Dammit!

Maybe he was the one who should’ve remembered they were in enemy territory.

A child gasped, mouth gaped open as she stared at where his tailfin was. Danny pulled Damian back, getting ready to take off. Yeah this was the part where they got the hell out of dodge.

Only for the girl to lean down and poke him. Right in the gills. Ow.

Danny yelped in shock. His body snapped back into the visible spectrum as the little girl went saucer eyed. Outside the fence, an Atlantean woman stood stunned as she blinked owlishly at them.

He chuckled. “Well, thanks for letting us pet your seahorses, but we really gotta go, so see ya-”

“SIIREEEENNNNNNS!!!!!”

Well fuck.

Sam slammed her fist against the punching bag. Every yell brought forth primal rage, and righteous anger. In her mind’s eye, Vlad’s face ate every punch and crunched with every kick. Skulker’s smug mug got caved in. And most of all, Danny’s fucking parents. Her fucking parents.

Didn’t take Superman to hear them screaming upstairs. Hurling accusations, badmouthing Danny for the six hundred and fiftieth time. “Oh how could he lead our precious Sammykins astray like this?” As if they didn’t do that already!

And now she was grounded. Put on house arrest, even. Tucker shared a similar fate. That just left Jazz to monitor the situation. Luckily, Tuck prepared secret burner phones for them for this exact scenario.

Being grounded also meant they couldn’t search for Danny again. In all likelihood he had probably skipped town. Tucker’s forays into the GiW’s servers showed they were still on the lookout, so that was something to be relieved by. If only she and Tuck actually knew what was going on!

She growled and then transitioned into another scream. How the hell did the Fentons even know where to look for them!?

The anger melted away into anxiety. The conversation replayed in her mind. Half the time she wasn’t even sure what she was saying. That was so close. One slip-up and she would’ve landed Danny on the dissection table, not that the result they got was much better. Danny still had a target on his back, and no one could be blamed for it but her. Six months ago while they were just teenagers in over their heads, the idea of caped heroes coming in to save their asses seemed like a dream.

But now? Bruce Wayne funded the Justice League. The fucking Justice. League. It was like Paulina getting a poor girl who bumped into her suspended because of her dad’s wealth. Only replace the poor girl getting suspended with Danny being turned into scientific sushi by the Goons in White, or even worse: his parents.

Oh, and she pissed him off even more. Sam banged her head against the punching back.

Danny was strong. She was strong. Tucker was strong. They had faith in each other. But as yesterday’s hack proved, there were far, far bigger fish in the ocean. And she would destroy anyone who heard her admit it, but part of her was terrified.

Sam retreated to her room, not even sparing her arguing parents a glance. Once in the safety of her private sanctuary, she retrieved her spell book, and began to research anew. She needed to be in tip-top shape to help Danny and Damian Wayne get home. They were going to contact her and Tucker any day now, and she needed to be ready for it.

Please be ok, Danny.

Maddie finished the last of the software updates to the Fenton Sonars, resetting them and reversing the damage Tucker had done. What were they thinking?! Aiding and abetting some of the most dangerous creatures on the planet. All those PSAs and lectures she knew he had sat in on with Danny and the takeaway he had was to play superhero with a savage beast?!

The sonars pinged. Just as she suspected. No sign of Phantom near Amity. The GiW hadn’t found crap in however many hours of search in the surrounding waters, so the bastard probably fled with his tail between his… tail. Maddie scoffed. Some hero.

But that was perfectly fine by her, because she had Phantom’s hydroplasmic signature.

Switching programs, she accessed the Fenton Satellite’s computer programming. One key stroke later, and Phantom’s signature beamed up to the Fenton Satellite. Maddie grinned darkly.

“You finished over there, Maddie?” Jack asked. Glow torch sparks lit up behind her and cast the lab in stark shadow.

“Yes sweetie, now all that we need left is the hardware.”

On the workbench, Jack carefully welded their newest creation. She took up the spot beside him, and began slotting components in as they transitioned to working in perfect harmony together. Jack glanced at her, and she passed over the wrench. A nano-battery array here. A forty-inch radar dish there. A custom Fenton piston set over there. With two children on the line, they worked round the clock. They tested their new inventions rigorously, then broke them down to rebuild them better.

Phantom won’t know what hit him.

#dpxdc #danny fenton #merman #damian wayne #dcxdp #merboy #angst #mermaid au #maddie fenton #jack fenton #sam manson #good parents jack and maddie #damian wants to pet the seahorses #let him pet!!

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desertfangs · 8 months

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one random night in rio

I've missed Marius/Daniel week--I don't think this fit any of the prompts anyway--and I can't keep track of all the events happening right now but I wrote this little thing a few weeks ago and it's just a funny little ficlet about a random night in Rio and hope it's amusing. (I've given them a transition house in Rio between the house in Norway and the penthouse in PL, not at all because I forgot B&G takes place somewhere up north.)

Marius/Daniel - 1884 words - teen/humorous The air sticks to Daniel’s skin—well, as much as anything sticks to vampire skin—and the humidity makes the atmosphere feel thick like he’s moving through an invisible fog. The rain has left puddles along the path from the road. It smells of dirt and vegetation, and Daniel loves that smell. Not quite as salty as the ocean air of Night Island, but earthy and comforting. He’s half way up the path to the little house he shares with Marius on the edge of the jungle when he hears the heartbeats. Loud and vigorous. Mortals. Daniel frowns. The house is not easily accessible but there is a dirt road that leads to it, and this path. They do occasionally get someone at their door but other than the odd delivery person, it’s rare. Rare enough that Daniel moves quietly up the path until he’s only a short distance away and he can see the house through the trees.

One man’s back is to him but he can’t see the other person. This first guy’s thoughts are jumbled, agitated. His heart slams against his ribs and he’s keyed up. He tries to push through the man’s thoughts but his mind is too soaked in fear for him to understand anything clearly. Daniel turns his attention on the unseen man, who’s calmer, but he’s one of those folks who naturally guard their thoughts. At least, Daniel hopes.

If this person knows he’s at a vampire residence and is purposefully masking his mind, it could be trouble.

He waits in silence.

“He’s not here, man,” one of them says after a few moments in Portuguese. His voice makes him sound young. “Let’s just go.”

Daniel starts to relax but the other one speaks.

“No way. We have to find out what he is.”

Daniel tries again to search through his mind, pushing harder through the wall he’s put up. He catches a glimpse of a memory, Marius leaving a dilapidated house, covered in paint, his tools tucked under his arm. Before Daniel can make out more, the young man speaks. “You saw what he did that to that cop!” Daniel sighs. If these guys saw Marius kill someone, they’ll have to die. And while he has no qualms about doing what needs to be done, they’re young guys and probably innocents. It’s a shame. Daniel moves to the edge of the tree-line.

“He didn’t do anything, man. I bet he just explained himself. Rich white guys get away with everything, even the weird ones.” “Nah, nah, I saw it. He did some kind of mind whammy on him!”

From the edge of the trees, Daniel can see these are teens, young guys, one of whom is wearing an X-Files t-shirt. The other guy scoffs. “Okay, so what? If he has some kind of mind powers, won’t he just use them on us?” “That’s why have to stake the place out.” The guy has a camera, a nice video camcorder. Daniel pinches the bridge of his nose. The last thing they need is some kids filming them through the windows. “He might be a vampire or werewolf or a wizard or…” “He’s just some eccentric old man,” the other one says. Daniel considers his options. They don’t really know anything so killing them is unnecessary, and it might lead to more problems if two teens disappeared after coming to their property. He decides the best plan course of action was to be direct. He slips quietly back down the path a few yards and then marches loudly toward the house, making sure to make noise. He hears the teens panic and try to decide what to do but when he comes through the the trees into the yard, they’re just standing there. One of them looks like his head might explode from stress. Both of their hearts are going a million miles an hour.

Daniel stops as if surprised to see them and asks, “Can I help you?”

The teens exchange a look. In English, one of them says, “We were, uh, looking for that guy who paints stuff in abandoned houses. Does he live here?”

“He does,” Daniel says. “Why?”

They exchange another quick glance, the more nervous one shoving his hands into his pockets. They’re so out of their depth that Daniel has to keep himself from laughing. “We just wanted to talk to him,” the nervous one says.

“About art,” the other supplies.

Daniel resists the urge to roll his eyes. These are curious kids. Clearly they’d noticed something odd about Marius and of course, they were right to have noticed, and though he’d never let them know it, Daniel can’t fault their curiosity. “He’s not home right now but you’re welcome to wait inside,” Daniel says. Better to be open and prove there’s nothing to hide. And really, it’s a normal enough house, if you don’t open one of the doors that leads to a room full of miniature landscapes built in the last dredges of madness, or find taxidermy monkeys off-putting (Daniel does and made Marius move them to the atrium because he couldn’t shake the sense they were watching him with their cold, glass eyes.) Their thoughts are a whirlwind of fear and excitement. To finally go inside the weird old artists’ house! Daniel catches one of them thinking Daniel must be the old guy’s younger boyfriend. Or maybe son. Daniel has to work to keep his expression neutral. Marius has less than a decade on him in mortal years. He walks past them and unlocks the front door. They both hesitate, share another silent exchange, and then, deciding it’s worth the risk, they go inside. If Daniel were a movie monster it would be their fatal mistake. Luckily for them, he’s a friendly neighborhood vampire. He gestures for them to have a seat in the living room. It’s as banal a living room as you can get, with wood-paneled walls, a comfortable tan sofa, and some matching easy chairs. There’s a decent-sized television and a Nintendo Wii Daniel only bought a few months before. The boys look around and seem disappointed. Daniel is tempted to take them to the art studio with the monkeys but decides against it. The one with the camcorder is surreptitiously filming and Daniel figures it’s best if all he has on film is this inoffensive living area. Daniel gives a pointed look at the camera and the guy fumbles, turning it off.

“Do you want something? Water? Soda?” There are still some soft drinks in the fridge, though he isn’t sure if they’re still good. About a year ago, Marius hosted a painting class for a group of retirees in the backyard and they’d stocked up on wine and beverages for the occasion. The wine is still good but now that Daniel sees how young these guys are, he’s not giving them alcohol. The guys exchange yet another look, one of them shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Daniel can tell he regrets coming inside before he even hears his thoughts about how it’s just some normal house where two old dudes live. Nothing weird or monstrous about it. If they only knew. But they’re here now and the other one seems determined to wait until Marius arrives. He pushes his friend toward the sofa and says yes to the sodas. Daniel goes into kitchen and finds two unexpired cans of Fanta.

Brings them out and hands them over.

“Hey, do you guys play Mario Kart?” Daniel asks. * It’s an hour later and Daniel has been knocked off the Rainbow Road so many times it’s embarrassing, but it’s fun having people to play against. Marius plays sometimes and he’s gotten better but he usually ends up driving off the course and getting last place on every single track. Daniel hears the keys rattle just as they’re finishing the final lap on Wario’s Gold Mine. Marius comes through the foyer into the living room. His painting kit is rolled up beneath his arm and his blond hair is tied back in a messy half-bun. His expression is pleasant enough for their guests but he gives Daniel a very curious side-eye. Who are they? Marius thinks. Monster hunters, Daniel thinks back, and has to choke back a laugh as Marius frowns. “Welcome home,” Daniel says aloud. He introduces the teens who, suddenly remembering how they ended up in the middle of a impromptu Mario Kart tournament, look slightly abashed. “It’s a pleasure,” Marius says. He holds out his hands, which are covered in paint. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go clean myself up.” I trust there’s a good story behind this, Marius thinks at Daniel. As he heads for the stairs, one of the boys says, “I love your art. The house over behind the abandoned supermarket, it looks really cool.” Marius smiles. “All of the kids from our school go there to smoke weed and stare at the walls,” the nervous one says, and his friend elbows him. Marius laughs. “I see. Well, it’s nice to know my work is appreciated.” “I told you he was just some guy,” one of them whispers at the other.

They drop their controllers and once Marius is gone up the stairs, stand to go. They thank Daniel and he walks them to the door, telling them to be safe on their way home. He watches them walk down the road and into the trees. He closes and locks the door. Marius is in the en-suite bathroom off the bedroom, washing his face. None of them really needs to wash in that manner but Daniel still takes regular showers and Marius enjoys the feeling of hot water on his skin. “Monster hunters?” Marius asks, pulling the hair tie from his blond hair, which cascades down around his shoulders. “Curious teens. They saw you put the whammy on a cop and thought you might be some kind of creature of the night.” Daniel smirks. “Imagine that.” Marius frowns, examining his own face in the mirror. “Care to share?” Daniel presses. Marius turns to him and sighs. “This one police officer has made it his personal crusade to prevent me from making my art. So when he hassled me the other night, I decided to put a stop to him. I suppose I should been more… cognizant of my surroundings.” “You think?” Daniel asks. He’s not actually upset but he enjoys getting to lord this over Marius. It’s usually Daniel who messes up. “Yes, well, one lives and learns. What made you invite them in?” Marius asks, turning the tables as he’s so good at doing. “Are you that desperate for opponents in that dastardly race game?” Daniel snorts. “Better to show them we’re boring old guys with nothing to hide then let them start rumors about what’s lurking in Dracula’s castle.” Marius raises an eyebrow. “Boring old guys?”

Daniel shrugs. “Boring might be the wrong word.”

“I should say so.” He puts a hand on Daniel’s cheek affectionately, smiling. “Would you like to play more of your game? I could go for a round of Kart racing.”

Daniel smiles back at him. “How can I say no to that?”

#marius de romanus #daniel molloy #marius/daniel #vc fanfic #vc humor #vc fic #my fic #ficlet #silliness #i just wrote it to amuse myself but i hope other people find it amusing #vampire chronicles #vc

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herora-nuva · 2 years

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Toa Mata's Second Favorite Masks

So even after the Mata collected all of their various Great masks they clearly all preferred using their first masks primarily. But which of the other masks did they enjoy using? Here's my ideas for it, from most to least canon consistent.

Lewa- Mask of Speed. I think Lewa really enjoys using the mask of speed, he loves moving around quickly. This one actaully has some canon support, as the Kakama is the secondary mask we actually see him use the most. I think he'd really enjoy using the Kakama to build up speed, then launch into the air and switch to levitation to get real flight.

Kopaka- Mask of Shielding. Maybe its because its the first mask he after washing ashore, maybe its because of his first adventure with Pohatu, maybe subtle rivalry with Tahu, or maybe he just likes extra protection considering his shield, but I think Kopaka might like using the Hau. (I'll bet he's also tried using the Miru to get some alone time up in the air, but he found out this is a surefire way to attract Lewa's attention, who comes floating up to him at high speed)

Onua- Mask of X-Ray Vision. He'd use it to be able to see through the tunnel walls of Onu-Wahi. Very useful, especially for rescuing Matoran who might get trapped in the mines! (Might also enjoy the Kaukau, to navigate underground streams and rivers, or to explore sea caves).

Pohatu- Mask of Levitation. Maybe kind of ironic for a Toa whose element is rooted to the ground, but I think with the amount that Pohatu goes rock climbing on cliffs, having a Miru on as backup probably appeals to him. (He might also like the mask of strength, if for no other reason than to see if he can clear the whole island with 1 bounder kick)

Gali- Mask of Strength. I think she might enjoy using the Pakari's strength increase in creative ways, such as boosting her swimming, cliff climbing, and agility. She did once wish she had a Pakari when fighting a giant squid. Also, can't you totally see her coming up to a beached whale and just picking it up to gently carry it to the water? (I also think she might enjoy the mask of speed, just to become a motorboat)

Tahu- Controversial pick I know, but I'm going to say Mask of Water Breathing. After famously proclaiming "water is for wimps" when it comes to surfing Gali challenges him on that, and Tahu, who can't back down from a challenge to save his life, tries out water surfing. Its harder than he realized, but also surprisingly fun. During his regular lava surfing trips where he redirects the lava to flow into the sea, he's taken to just surfing straight from the lava rivers into the ocean, switching to the Kaukau as he goes. (This one is by far the most speculative, but I had to give SOMEONE the Kaukau. Sorry Gali, but not many people would really like your mask. At least this idea does have a little canon, as Tahu was actually shown surfing on a wave with Gali during the Rahkshi comics).

These are just some of my ideas, I'd love to hear if you guys have any, this was kinda fun an cute to think about.

#bionicle #toa mata #kanohi #masks

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barbiewritesstuff · 2 years

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Church Encounters: Chapter 13

-- I would like to apologise for this behemoth of a fic because I think it's like 10k words long... sorry? We tried cutting things down but it didn't help much...

This fic was written in collaboration with @lgg5989 who is uploading this to her tumblr and her AO3. She also made the beautiful moodboard below :)

Comments and reblogs are available! We also take blurb requests for the universe!!

Previous part

Taglist: @acarboni21 @unsurebuttrying @dempy @peaches-1998 @bbooks-and-teas @roosterscock @positivelyholland --

“Do you think our theme should be Navy blue and white or is that too ironic?” you asked Jake, looking up expectantly for an answer.

In the months that it had been since you got engaged, things were busy. Things had picked up for Jake on base, he was asked to head an upcoming mission and he had been trying to prepare himself to lead a new team.

Jake’s mission was a dark hop, and he wouldn’t be able to talk to you for the entire month that he was gone. You had been reassigned to your previous squadron, and you were scheduled to deploy for six weeks of training and missions at the beginning of next week. The middle of the Indian ocean was not the most convenient place to send or receive mail or texts so your communication would be limited at best.

At the moment, the two of you were sitting in the kitchen of Jake’s apartment. Jake was focused on his phone, looking through something you couldn’t see and you were still waiting on an answer from him.

“Jake?” you asked, placing one of your hands on top of his, “Did you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he said, still looking at his phone, “I don’t think it matters honey, whatever you want,” he said, his voice low and his words coming out slow and distracted.

You closed your eyes and let out a frustrated sigh, withdrawing your hand from his, you closed the screen of your laptop a bit harder than was probably necessary. This had been how the last two weeks had gone, and you couldn’t figure out what the problem was but tonight you were done with Jake’s ‘happy wife, happy life’ attitude.

Standing from the table, you pulled the charger plug from the wall and shoved your things into your backpack. When Jake heard the sound of the zipper zipping up, he looked up from his phone.

“Well thanks for finally joining us Lieutenant Commander,” you said under your breath, as you tried to make your way around him to get to the door.

Jake grabbed your arm, his hand not squeezing too tightly, “What? What’s wrong? I thought we were going to watch a movie?”

You pulled your arm from his, crossing it across your chest, “You haven’t paid any attention to the wedding plans all night. I understand that this isn’t something that guys usually enjoy doing but I figured you’d want to have at least some part in it. You have up until now anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, standing up from his chair, his tall frame now towering over you slightly.

“This Jake, I asked you a question five minutes ago, and not only did you not answer, but when I asked again, you didn’t even try to make a decision, you just said ‘whatever you want’. What I want is you to be involved. This wedding is about two people, you and me, not me and myself,” you said, your voice raising with anger.

“I understand that you have more responsibility now with this mission coming up, but can you really not spare me the time of day to even answer a simple question?” you continued before he could interrupt.

“Hold on now, that’s not fair. I’m trying to do right by you with everything I do, I’m sorry that I don’t always have the right answer at the right time,” he said, his nostrils flaring with his restrained anger.

“That’s bullshit, I don’t need to hear the right answer, I just want your answer, your opinion!” you were full on yelling now, “And if you are going to try and hold ‘doing right’ by me over my head, then are you doing it for the right reason in the first place?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” Jake said, his eyes dark and his cheeks ruddy.

Letting out a tired laugh, you shook your head, tears springing to your eyes, “Well you said it, so some part of you has to mean it. I’m sorry I’m not like the girls you dated before but I won’t change what I believe for your wants.”

“I’m not asking you to change, I don’t even know why we are arguing to begin with,” Jake said, his voice deadly calm.

“Because you have been absent Jacob, you have been too busy looking through whatever it is on your phone to answer my questions, I understand that you’re busy but that doesn’t give you the right to ignore me,” you said, angry tears thickening your voice and wetting your face.

“I’m not ignoring you,” he said defensively, “I just got busy with this, it's important.”

“And our wedding isn’t?” you asked, you knew that it was petty but you were tired of his excuses.

Jake turned away from you, walking into the kitchen, his hands raised up to his head and his fingers laced together, “I never said that,” he said, turning around to face you again.

“Well you may as well have,” you finished, your voice as cold as the night you had left him at the bar. You turned away from him and stuffed your feet in your shoes, opening the door to his apartment, you made sure to slam it behind you as you left. You raced down the stairs to the ground floor as the tears you had been trying to hold back started streaming more heavily down your face.

Throwing yourself into your car, you cranked the key over in the engine. Pushing your foot down one the clutch, you shifted into first. Before pulling out of the spot, you put your head down on the steering wheel, letting a small sob escape you. The ring on your finger felt heavy for the first time since you had accepted it from Jake almost four months ago.

Lifting your head, you pushed your foot in on the gas and pulled out of the parking spot. Looking in your rearview mirror, you saw Jake standing in the parking lot behind you, watching as you drove away.

—

“Shit!” he yelled, slamming the door to his apartment closed behind him. Jake picked up his phone, the reason for the whole argument, and threw it at the wall. It hit the floor with a crack and his heart constricted in his chest. Rushing over to it, he plucked it off the floor, hitting the lock button to make sure that it still worked.

“That was stupid,” he said to himself as he leaned against the counter. Unlocking the phone, he pressed the call button under your contact. It rang through to voicemail and he tried again and again, to no avail. Finally giving up on you answering, he sent you a text, Drive safe. I’m sorry I acted like an ass. Don’t forget I love you.

With that, he dialled the only number he could think of, Beau’s. After two rings, he picked up, “Hello?” he asked in a whispered voice.

“Sir?” Jake asked, “I need a little help,” he said.

“What did you do now?” he heard the Admiral ask, his voice sounding exasperated.

“Y/n and I had an argument and I put my fucking foot in my mouth,” Jake said, rubbing his hand over his eyes, “She left and she won’t answer my calls.”

He heard a sigh before Beau asked, “What did you argue about?”

“She asked me a question about the wedding plans. I didn’t answer right away, I’ve been distracted with this upcoming mission,” Jake said, pausing, “I said some things I shouldn’t have.”

“How bad?” Beau inquired.

“Bad,” Jake said, his chin trembling with the effort of holding back his emotions, “God I’m fucking this up, I leave for deployment in two days, I don’t know if she is going to talk to me before then.”

“Take a deep breath, I’m sure that by tomorrow she will be willing to see–” Beau stopped talking, the sound of his phone vibrating came through the line, “She’s calling me, hold on.”

The call was still connected, but he was on hold. He sat like that, at his kitchen table for twenty minutes before Beau picked up again, “Please tell me that you didn��t say what she said you did.”

“I probably did, what did she say?” Jake asked his heart in his throat.

“That you are an asshole, who is having doubts,” Beau said, “Tell me it isn’t true, because as much as I like you Seresin, I love her.”

“I’m not having any doubts,” Jake said immediately, “She just took what I said that way, I didn’t mean it like that, I just I’m not good with feelings and all of the sudden she was angry with me and I didn’t even know what I did. I love her too,” he finished quietly.

“Good, then you can still fix this,” the Admiral said, “She’s at the pier, go pick her up.”

With that the line went dead, and Jake was running out to his truck, not even remembering to lock his front door on his way out.

—

You heard the parking lot gravel fly as someone pulled in quickly. Hoping it was your dad, you turned around only to be met with the side profile of Jake’s truck. Letting out a watery laugh, you cursed the man, as much as you loved him, he was a meddler of the highest regard. You closed your eyes, waiting for Jake to come and get you.

After you left Jake’s you had driven home. Sitting in the apartment hadn’t done you any good, so you simply put on your tennis shoes and started walking. By the time you had made it to the pier, the winds had picked up and it had started to sprinkle, like even the weather knew that you and Jake were having a bad night. The only person, besides Jake, that you could think to call was Cyclone.

He picked up on the fourth ring, and you hoped that he hadn’t been sleeping. You told him what happened and where you were, and he said that he would come get you. Apparently he had other things in mind.

Opening your eyes when you heard Jake’s door slam shut, you watched as he sprinted down the pier to where you were standing. The wind was whipping your hair across your face and the mist that had been falling from the sky turned into a steady sprinkle. You weren’t sure how long your teeth had been chattering together but you were suddenly aware of how cold you were.

When Jake reached you, he stopped running, slowing to a stop a few feet from you. At that moment, those feet felt like miles.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his usually commanding voice softer than usual, “I should have answered your question when you asked. I’m sorry I’ve been distracted, I’m just worried about this mission. That’s not your fault, and you shouldn’t have to pay the price for it.”

You nodded, “I’m sorry I yelled at you, I should have been more patient. I’m just, you’ve been so withdrawn Jake. You’re supposed to be able to lean on me, if you can’t do that now, then how are you going to do it when we are married?”

“I’m going to work on it,” he said, stepping closer to you, your frame now shivering slightly with the wind and the rain, “I’m not good with emotions but I promise I will work on it, for you.”

He opened his arms, and you stepped into him letting him envelop you in a hug. He was warm and you felt yourself relax against him. Being in his arms again felt good, it released the stress you had been carrying.

“Please don’t walk out on me again,” you heard him whisper into your hair, “I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you, not now, not ever,” he said.

“You don’t know that,” you said quietly into his chest.

Jake sighed, “I do, because I might be an asshole sometimes, but you love me.”

You stayed silent at that, he might be right but you weren’t going to tell him that. Your thoughts came back around to Beau’s meddling when you asked, “How did you know I was here?”

“I called your dad when you left. I just thought he would know what to do, he’s married, and he helped raise you,” he said quietly squeezing you into him tighter as you shivered again.

“Let’s get you in the truck, okay?” he asked.

You nodded into his chest. He guided you to the truck, one arm wrapped around you to try and shield you from the wind. Opening the door for you, you climbed in and were immediately surrounded by the warm air he had pumping out of the vents. Jake pulled the seat belt across you, and buckled you in, even though you could have done it yourself. He closed the door and jogged around the front of the truck, hoisting himself up into his own seat.

The drive back to your apartment was quiet, the constant blow of the heater the only noise between you both. The air was not as tense as it felt in his apartment, but there was something between the two of you that didn’t feel quite right. As Jake pulled up to the building, he put the truck in park. You reached for the handle on the door but his hand on your leg stopped you.

“I really am sorry,” he said again, “I don’t want this to ruin anything we have, especially before we both get deployed.”

“It won’t,” you said, your chest constricting at the thought of feeling this off for six weeks, “I love you.”

Jake cupped your face with one of his palms, “I love you too,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You returned the kiss in kind. When you broke away from him, you pressed a kiss to his hand before turning your head and opening the door. Jake jumped out quickly, escorting you to the door and making sure you got in okay before leaving.

----

The next day, things were still feeling a little tentative. You had gone through the usual routine of going to church in the morning, kissing his cheek when saying ‘Peace be with you’ and holding his hand for the Our Father, and then meeting up at your apartment for breakfast but the post argument feeling had yet to clear the air.

Despite that, you both tried to enjoy each other’s company. Jake’s mission was in the morning, he would need to leave so early he wouldn’t have time to swing by or even call before you would need to go on yours. So, you set aside all technology and all your apprehension and snuggled on the couch together.

You were lying down on your side across the couch, Jake had joined after a refill of his coffee cup, sandwiching you between his body and the backrest. You placed your head on his chest, moving your leg so it covered his own and tried to concentrate on the film you had put on. Your ears, however, kept making your brain concentrate on the gentle thumping of Jake’s heart and the noise of his lungs expanding and shrinking as he breathed.

You lost yourself in your thoughts, only disturbed when Jake spoke, his deep voice sounding more gravelly through his chest, “What are you thinking, baby?”

“Your heart’s beating,” you replied. Jake shifted so the arm that had been squished underneath you now rested behind his head, while his other hand played with the battery compartment of the remote control.

“Only for you,” he whispered under the sound of the scene unfolding on TV. If you hadn’t been so concentrated on him, you might have missed his reply. Jake closed his eyes, wishing you could stay like this forever.

“I don’t think we’ve ever argued before,” you said.

“No, I think that was our first time… Let’s not do that again,” Jake said quietly.

“Yeah. Let’s not,” you agreed, continuing in a quieter voice you said, “I should get up. I need to pack for tomorrow…”

“You really should,” he answers with a sleepy voice, “But you won’t. You’re going to stay nice and snuggly with me, under the blanket, and we’re going to have a nap,” he adds, dropping the remote so his hand could move to gently trace the side of your arm with a lazy finger.

“We can't,” you mumbled into him, “We don’t have time.”

Jake hummed, opening one eye to look at you, “I’ll put an alarm on, we’ll wake up in an hour, how does that sound?”

You didn’t answer. You were already falling asleep, breathing in the scent of Jake’s soap and that woodsy scent that drives you crazy, the one that was just him. Stopping the tracing for just one moment, he fished his phone out of his pocket and turned it on just to set up a timer.

Jake dropped his phone to the ground and brought his hand up to brush some hair away from your face. He looked at you, drinking in your peaceful expression. Yes, he thought, he could definitely do this forever. He would happily watch you snuggle further into his chest as he caresses your cheek with his knuckles for the rest of his life. His eyes drifted closed and he too dropped off into a blissful sleep.

The alarm never went off, Jake had forgotten to press the save button on his phone. You both snuggled for the next three hours, only waking up when the doorbell rang. With a groan, you extricated yourself from Jake’s groggy cuddle and went to look through the peephole at a man holding a large bouquet of flowers.

After signing for the delivery, you carried the bouquet inside, depositing it on the kitchen table. The buds were a mix of chamomiles, white hyacinths, irises, lilacs, asters, and basil. You didn’t need to read the note to know who had sent them, only two people in your life knew enough flower language to send you such a strange mix of flowers. Dropping them all into a vase, you tried to remember what it all meant.

You knew basil meant ‘good wishes’ and that asters were a symbol of love. A quick google search told you that white hyacinths signified ‘prayers for someone’, chamomiles stood for ‘patience in adversity’, irises meant ‘Faith' and lilacs meant ‘Joy of youth’. Opening the note, you skipped the message to see if your guess had been right. Indeed, Cyclone had signed his name in his usual messy scroll.

“Did you order anything?” Jake asked, finally finding the courage to get off of the sofa. He walked up behind you, wrapping his hands around your waist and hugging you from behind, snuggling into your neck.

“It’s from my dad,” you replied, handing him the card.

“Congratulations on the milestone! The first fight is never pleasant, but it is something every couple goes through. Elisabeth and I's first argument happened two weeks after the wedding. I was working on a promotion, hadn't been home much and it was bothering the both of us. It all came crashing down over peas. We couldn't agree on how to cook them and soon enough we were screaming at each other. At the time, it felt insurmountable. Now, with the benefit of time we can look back and laugh. Trust me, you will too. In the meantime, Lizzie and I have found the next verses to be particularly good at guiding us towards healing and reconciliation.

'Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others.' -- Cyclone

'Therefore, confess your sins to one another and pray for one another, so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.' -- Lizzie

Don't forget that marriage, as much as it is about love, is also about compromise and teamwork. Make sure that regardless of what you feel, you face the problem together. Love, Beau," Jake read in his still groggy voice.

“I think it’s pretty clear what we should do,” you said, thinking about the words Cyclone had written. Jake hummed, taking your hand he led you into your bedroom.

You picked your rosary from the bedside table, opened the velvet pouch and dumped it into your hand. Kneeling down next to the bed, you took Jake's hand and the two of you prayed the rosary together. As you worked your way through the beads, your only thought was on God and how he had brought Jake into your life.

When the rosary had been prayed, you and Jake kneeled in silence a moment longer. He pulled you into his chest, holding you tight, "I'm sorry we argued. I love you so much. You are everything I've ever asked for, kind, caring, loving, and I can't imagine my life without you."

You smiled into his chest, "I love you too. You are a good man, Jacob Seresin."

You felt him sigh against you, "You are the best woman, so forgiving."

You let out a quiet laugh, "I do my best." After spending a few minutes in silence, you groaned, falling halfway on the bed, “I suppose we should get ready,” getting up from where you had kneeled. You willed yourself to open your wardrobe and started pulling things out to put inside of your bag, Jake was still kneeling next to the bed, seemingly lost deep in thought.

“I don’t have doubts,” he eventually said, pulling your attention from packing your duffle, “I don’t know much about life, I don’t know what the Lord has in store for me, but I know I love you. That’s the only thing I’m certain of, mia cara. I don’t know if the sun will rise for me tomorrow, I don’t know if I’ll fly, or if I’ll land, I don’t know what I’ll have for breakfast, or if the truck will run. But I know that whatever happens, I will love you. Yesterday, now and tomorrow, and for the rest of time,” he continued, “You’re stuck with me,” Jake laughed.

“I will happily be stuck with you,” you replied through the tears that had welled up in your eyes.

Jake pulled you into a hug muttering, “I should go,” against the top of your head. Jake leaned back and cupped your face in both of his hands. “I,” he said, planting a kiss on your lips, “Love,” he added, kissing you again, “You,” he kissed you once more, deepening the kiss and keeping it going until you needed to come up for air. Once you did, you looked up to find him staring back at you with tearful green eyes, “I’ll miss you, mia cara. Don’t forget about me,” he said.

“I could never forget you. I’ll miss you too. Stay safe, come back to me,” you replied. Jake let go of you. He moved towards the door, bending down to get his backpack.

“Wait,” you called out. You walked towards your bag and fished out your Bible. As if he could tell what you had in mind, Jake took out his own Holy Book from the bag and held it out to you. You exchanged your Bible for his, letting your hands briefly caress the brown leather cover. Jake closed his bag, and as if willing himself to go through with it, walked out of your apartment and into his truck without looking back.

You finished packing late that night, barely having enough energy to shower and do your nightly skincare routine but once you laid in bed, staring into the darkness of your room, only lit by the dim red glow of your alarm clock, you found it impossible to fall asleep. You swung your legs off of the bed and pulled on your dressing gown, wrapping it tightly around you. You shuffled to the kitchen where you switched on the kettle and picked a tea bag out of your extensive collection. While the water boiled you closed your eyes, trying to think of what to do now that you were awake, suddenly getting an idea, you went searching for a pen and a sheet of paper.

You rooted through cupboards until you found what you were looking for, the Jane Austen fan in you cross that the only paper you seemed to have happened to be lined, and sat down at the kitchen table after pouring the water into a mug and onto your teabag. While the beverage steeped, you set about writing the letter.

“My Darling,

Forgive my letter writing, I am rusty. I used to have a penpal in high school but we were both inexperienced and I don’t think we followed all the rules.

I’m writing this letter because I love you.

And there really is no better way to do that than with the immortal genius of Jane Austen, “In vain I have struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed, you must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

So let me tell you. I love your strength, your bravery, and your unwavering faith. You are always ready to lift me up when I need it, to carry other people’s burdens when they need a minute of respite. You are faithful, both to me and the Lord, never doubting or questioning your convictions and your beliefs. But I love the rest of you too, from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, even the bits of you you don’t like and the bits you don’t know about. I love you now and I’ll love you forever.

My Darling, I want nothing more than to be the person you need me to be. I want to be your rock, your partner, your confidante and your wife. I want to make your house a home, to help you as we raise our future children, I want to shoulder your burdens so the weight can be halved. I want you to know how dearly I love you, and sadly, I find myself lacking.

The Bible says: “Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. -- Ephesians 4:2”, Jake, my Love. I am sorry, I haven’t been gentle, and I certainly haven’t been patient.

I know you have been preoccupied with the mission and in all honesty, I have been throwing myself into the wedding planning to avoid thinking about it. I’m scared, I know this mission is dangerous. They always are, but this one is the worst so far. I know you can’t tell me, or you won’t so I don’t have to worry, but I find myself doing so anyway. I’m scared you won’t come back. I’m scared because you can’t call or text to tell me how it went and I’m scared I might not pray in time.

But instead of trusting the Lord to keep you safe, I let my worries get the better of me. I argued when I should have been spending my time with you, soaking up every moment I could spend in your arms. Jake, I said a lot of things I regret, and I walked away knowing that it would hurt you. I let myself believe you were uninterested and unwilling to marry me when I know it is untrue.

I can’t wait to be in your arms again and make good on my promises to do better, for you. To be more patient, and loving, and understanding, for you. Stay safe, I love you.

Faithfully ,and forever, yours,

Y/n”

You drank your cup of tea, trying to gauge whether or not you would be able to sleep if you went to bed now, but you knew deep down that your mind would not quieten down until the letter was delivered. In order to try and sleep that night, you decided you would have to hand-deliver it. Another idea struck you.

Standing from the table, you made your way into the bedroom. Sinking to your knees in your closet doorway, you dug through the basket you had there full of scarves, hats, and gloves. Pulling out the tan cashmere, you held it up to your face, pressing your nose into the clean fabric. It smelled like the fabric softener you used. A few months ago you left the scarf at Jake’s apartment and he had only just returned it to you. He said something about how it smelled like your perfume. Standing with the scarf in hand, you took it into the bathroom, spritzing it a few times with the expensive perfume that you saved for special occasions.

Before you could overthink it, you took the scarf and the letter, and headed to Bobby’s apartment. You knocked on the door and hoped that he would answer, you didn’t have the courage to deliver the letter in person.

Bob cracked the door open, his eyes looking tired, “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

Holding out the scarf and the letter, you said, “I just, I need you to give this to Jake for me tomorrow, before you leave for the mission,” looking down at the ground.

Bob didn’t respond for a moment, you figured he was looking at the scarf you had held out to him.

“Okay, is everything alright?” he asked.

You let out a sigh before answering, “Yeah, I’m just not ready to say goodbye yet.”

He nodded, “I understand, Maria and I Facetimed for the whole afternoon, and we only just said goodbye because she couldn’t stay awake any longer.”

You gave him a sad smile and he pulled you into a friendly hug, “We are going to be alright, Y/n, you’ll see.”

You smiled, “Thanks Bob, I hope you’re right.”

Stepping back from the hug, you handed him the scarf and letter, “Thanks again for doing this for me.”

“Of course,” he said, “You’d do the same for me right?”

“Any time,” you replied before turning and making your way back to the car.

----

Jake arrived home, tired and crabby. The road had been a pain, usually the night offered some respite against the traffic but that night, it was as though all the bad drivers San Diego had to offer had all decided to simultaneously congregate right at the time he had turned the key in the ignition. The fact that he wouldn’t see you in the morning was also weighing heavy on his chest, especially since the tension of your argument hadn’t quite dissipated yet.

He dropped his bag onto his sofa after taking out your bible. He looked at the book for a minute, the beautiful white colour of the hardback, the golden word written front and centre and when he opened he saw all the annotations and highlighted passages. Jake opened the first page and looked at the key. Something caught his eye, under all the usual colours and their explanation, Jake noticed a thin stripe of marker pen in his favourite shade of red, next to it, you had written an equal sign and his name.

Jake sat down on his couch, opening the book at random intervals to see what you had highlighted. It seemed like you had highlighted passages red just about anywhere for him, and made little notes, especially in the book of psalms, where you had written prayers for his safety, guidance and future in the margins.

He felt tears well up in his eyes, and a few seconds later, a fat tear fell onto the pages of the Bible. To avoid causing any more damage, Jake closed the book and got up from the sofa to make himself a cup of coffee. By the end of his third cup of the night, Jake sat down on his coffee table to write you a letter.

“Mia Cara,

I have never written a letter before in my life -- scratch that, I have. They made us write one to a president when I was in second grade. I picked Abraham Lincoln and spent most of the letter asking him why he wore such big hats -- but this felt right.

I just wanted to remind you, my angel, that I love you.

We both know I’m not good with words, I tend to put my foot in my mouth, or stammer and stutter on words we both know I can pronounce but nerves won’t let me, so if you don’t mind, I’ll be borrowing other people’s words to tell you how I feel towards you.

There is a poem by the Syrian poet Nizar Qabban I like that goes like this,

“In the summer

I stretch out on the shore

And think of you. Had I told the sea

What I felt for you,

It would have left its shores,

Its shells,

Its fish,

And followed me.”

I think of it whenever I pray because I wonder, if God didn’t know you, would he have wanted to come down and meet you? Especially when I tell him of your smile, as enticing as the ocean on a hot summer’s day. When I tell him of your eyes, blue like an oasis in the middle of a desert. Or your hair, golden like the rays of the California sun.

Would he have come down when I told him of your voice, sweet like honey. Or when I spoke about your hands, soft like silk and warm with love.

But of course He knows, because no one else could make a face as lovely as yours. No one else could create a being as kind, caring, and wonderful. And no one else would be good enough to bestow it upon me, to cherish and to love, to guide and care for for the rest of eternity.

Mia Cara, I love you. I want to be the man you deserve. I want to be everything you need and want and more, I want you to be able to come to me when you need help and know that I will be there to help you carry your burdens. But for that, I need to be more open with my emotions.

So, here it goes. I know it’s no excuse for not listening to you, but I am so scared about this assignment. Leading a mission is a lot easier when there’s nothing at stake, and while, in our line of work, we never truly get to no stakes, we sometimes get close enough that I can ignore the pit of panic in my stomach. But not for this one. I know I can’t tell you details but I think you know. You always know, you’re good at that, deciphering what people mean or feel without them needing to tell you. I’m sorry I relied on that instead of telling you. Telling you that I am terrified of having to tell Maria that Bob didn’t make it, or telling Annie that Rooster won’t come back home. I’m scared for the others too, but I won’t have to look their families in the eye across the Christmas table for the rest of my life.

I know it isn’t much, but admitting this too you feels both strange and freeing, I will keep working on this until being honest with my emotions feels normal. In the meantime, my Angel, I will think of you and pray for you until you are in my arms again.

Thank you for being my partner in life, love and faith. And soon, marriage.

Forever yours,

Jake”

Once finished, Jake sealed the letter in an envelope. He went to his bedroom, where he fished out one of his old Texas Longhorns sweaters. He picked the one you liked best, the one you would always steal whenever you were cold when you came over. Despite the amount of time Jake had owned the sweater for, it was still in relatively good condition, the orange colour of the fleece hoodie had been washed out a little, but the inside was still soft and wam, and since he had worn it only days prior, it still smelled like him.

He folded it up neatly and placed it in a plastic bag with the letter. Then, Jake picked up his keys from inside the lock and made his way to his truck. You would likely be in bed, and he didn’t want to disturb your sleep, so Jake drove to Beau’s. He knew the Admiral would be there to send you off, he got to base ridiculously early anyway, and he would never miss an opportunity to tell his little girl goodbye.

Jake rang the doorbell and Elisabeth opened the door. He silently handed her the bag, trying not to look her in the eyes when she looked inside. A sad smile made its way onto her face, and she brought her hand up to his face, “You’ll be okay, Jake,” she tried to reassure him. Jake nodded briefly, turning on his heels and walking back to his truck, hoping that Elisabeth couldn’t see him wiping tears away with the sleeve of his sweater.

----

“Rooster, where are you man?” he called out through the comms, his voice straining against the Gs that he was fighting. He had just completed a bombing run with Rooster. The target was an enemy mine field just outside of a hostile enemy compound. The threat of SAMs was still present, but without the same risk as the uranium mission.

“On your six Hangman,” Bradley called back.

“Enemy aircraft inbound,” Bob’s voice called out through the comms, “Hangman watch your nose, he’s coming right at us.”

Jake’s right hand left the stick for a second to press against the patch on his chest before guiding his plane out of the climb he had been in, trying to make himself smaller for the enemy’s missile lock. The missile lock alarms in his F18 began going off just as Phoenix yelled, “Smoke in the air Hangman, evade, evade.”

Jake rolled the plane, hitting the button for flares quickly. He knew that it had been a close call because he could feel the heat from the explosion inside his cockpit.

Rooster’s voice confirmed it, “Jesus, Hangman, that was close.”

“Yeah, too close,” he said, bringing his plane around quickly to take on the 5th generation fighter, “Let’s take this guy down before he sends one of us home in a body bag.”

Jake tried to clear his mind and let instinct take over, he would need every ounce of skill and training that he had to take down the fighter in a dogfight, even with the backup of Rooster and Phoenix.

“Rooster, Phoenix, you two break right and left, let's try to box this guy in,” Jake said, his voice holding the authority he now possessed.

“Where does that leave you?” Bob chimed in.

“As the bait,” Jake responded, his mind drifting to you for a moment before the fifth generation fighter was making his way around for another pass at Jake. The letter he had received as well as the scarf had made him want to leave the mission all together and hug you. He had never contemplated going AWOL harder in his whole life. Deciding to trust God, he left with his team, praying every night that he would make it back to you.

The letter you had written made him tear up, the thought that you found yourself lacking hurt him, you were perfect, and he couldn’t wait to tell you that the next time he saw you. The soft cashmere of your scarf had been clutched tightly in his hand the entire flight to the ship. At night, he slept with it on top of his pillow, your sweet scent dragging him into a peaceful sleep every night.

—

You and Vegas had been split up as pilot and WSO, with the added animosity between the two of you and her efforts to break up your personal relationship, you felt it was time for a change. Your new pilot, Jensen Johns, callsign JJ, was a burly man. He was large for a fighter pilot, but he had a heart of gold and was known as the ship’s teddy bear. He had a wife and four kids waiting on him at home, you had seen the picture that he kept in the jet. You showed him the one of Jake and you sitting around the Christmas tree in your matching sweaters, Gio had taken it when you weren’t looking.

With the atmosphere in the plane less tense now that your pilot was not passive aggressively trying to ruin your life, the missions you flew felt better. The long range patrols and different training that they had you on were calm compared to the last mission you had flown. Often while you were in the air, your mind would wander to Jake.

The letter he had written you was beautiful, it made you wish you could have seen him one more time before he deployed. His sweatshirt was too big, and colour faded but you wore it to bed every night, even though it wasn’t regulation, the risk of getting caught was worth being wrapped in his familiar scent. You hadn’t heard anything about his dark hop and you were hoping that was a sign that it had gone well. Every night you prayed that God would bring the both of you home safely.

—

Jake forced the air he had been holding out of his lungs, this moment felt familiar. He was climbing, chasing the fifth generation fighter into the sun when he lost sight of it, “Phoenix, I can’t see him, how close am I?”

There was a second before she answered, “Ten feet, break right, break right.”

He didn’t second guess the advice of his teammate and immediately slowed down, pulling the jet off and to the right. As soon as he turned, the fifth gen was on him, “Bob, you’re going to have to get a lock on this guy, there’s no way I can keep evading him like this and he obviously doesn’t have plans of bugging out.”

“Copy, I’m working on it, Hangman. We have your back,” Bob replied.

Rooster’s panicked voice interrupted Jake’s train of thought, which had wandered to you, “I’ve got another one on the radar, we need to take this SOB down.”

“Shit,” Jake said, “Bob how’s that lock coming?”

Over the comms he heard Bob let out a quiet huff before responding, “I’m almost there, give me two more seconds.”

Phoenix’s voice called out over Bob, “Smoke in the air, smoke in the air, evade Hangman!”

“Dagger one defending,” he called out, deploying flares quickly. He glanced behind him several times until he saw the black smoke of the missile’s explosion.

“I’ve got a lock,” Bob said. Jake responded quickly, “Fire at will Bob, take this guy down.”

Bob fired on the jet, Phoenix and Bob were too close to the jet for him to have time to deploy flares and the missile made contact, “Splash one, splash one,” Rooster’s voice called out.

“Looks like number two is bugging out,” Bob said.

“Good,” Jake called back, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

----

You rushed through the hull of the ship quickly, being sure to pick your feet up through the doorways or else you risked tripping. Everyone aboard the ship was rowdy and excited to disembark. You had only rejoined them for the six week duration of your mission, but most of the boat had been deployed for four months, needless to say, they were ready to see their families and friends.

As you made your way up a flight of stairs, rushing out on the deck of the ship, you were blinded by the rays of the California sun and deafened by the noise coming from shore. Lining the dock were the families of all the men and women stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. You and Jake hadn’t had any contact since he left for his dark hop, and he should have arrived back in California two weeks ago. He had promised to meet you when you disembarked the ship.

When your phone finally managed to pick up a signal, it blew up with notifications. Many from social media, but there was only one person’s contact you were waiting to see come across your screen. As you cleared everything away, trying to sort through all of the meaningless notifications, Jake’s name floated across the top of your screen with a newly delivered text.

Jakey <3: I’m here waiting for you. Got stuck in traffic so I’m towards the back of the crowd. Don’t worry, you’ll find me.

You smiled at your phone before sending a text of your own, I can’t wait to see you.

Locking the phone and slipping it back in your pocket, you gathered up your duffle bag from where you had dropped it on the ground. Using the large bag, you pushed your way through the crowded deck so that you were standing near the railing, looking out over the dock.

An hour later, when the boat had finally tied off at the dock, it was announced that everyone should disembark in an orderly fashion by squadron. You let out a small groan, the fighter pilots on board usually were one of the middle groups off in that case. Waiting your turn to walk down the gangplank, you kept checking your phone for new messages from Jake, but with each refresh of the app there was nothing new to note.

Disappointed at the lack of messaging, you leaned against the wing of one of the jets that was stowed on deck. If you were going to be required to wait for half the boat to disembark, you might as well be comfortable. By the time it was your turn to leave the ship, the crowd on the dock was beyond intense. There were families gathered around their service member, and people kept pushing and bumping into your short form. You stood on your tiptoes, trying to spot Jake over the crowd, when you heard it.

Over the crying and laughter around you, there were a group of voices singing, “I’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day. When it’s cold outside, I’ve got the month of May…”

You pushed more eagerly through the crowd, only one man could be so flashy that he would sing to get your attention. Finally you broke through an edge and spotted Jake, surrounded by the rest of the original dagger squad. The whole group of men and women were singing, quite loudly and slightly off key, to the song Jake always said reminded him of you.

Letting out an excited squeal and laugh, you rushed over to them. Jake’s head snapped towards you when he noticed a blur moving quickly his way. As you launched yourself into his arms, he let out a loud laugh, spinning you around in a circle. The team cheered around the two of you, all of them happy that Jake’s mopey attitude would finally be a thing of the past.

When he set you back on your own feet, he leaned in and kissed you for all he was worth. You gasped into his mouth, your hand finding its way up and into his hair. Jake pulled you to him tighter, letting out his own quiet moan into your mouth. The two of you were lost in the kiss and you let out a disappointed huff when Jake pulled back from you suddenly. He turned to look over his shoulder, calling back to one of your friends, “I’m a little excited, if you didn’t want to see a show you shouldn’t have come.”

You let out a laugh as Jake set his attention back on you, “I missed you,” you said, pausing a second before adding, “I got your letter, you can always lean on me Jake.”

“I missed you too,” he replied quietly, his voice sounding a bit rough, “I got your letter too. You are perfect, there is no part of you that I find lacking in anything.”

A blush burned across your cheeks at his words, “I don’t want you to change yourself for me,” you said quietly.

“I’m not,” Jake replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m changing for both of us. I can’t keep bottling everything up, and you like to hear what I have to say, it's a win-win situation.”

You let out a quiet humm, “What’s the plan sailor?” you asked.

“I thought that you’d like to get out of here ma’am,” he said, smiling down at you, “I have a relaxing surprise planned for your grand return.”

“Then take me away,” you said, leaning up to place one more chaste kiss on his lips. Jake’s face split into a smile and he bent down to pick up your duffle bag off the ground. Taking your hand in his, the two of you lead the way back to his truck.

Bob joined you on your other side, “How was it Dove? Everything go alright?”

“Yeah, nothing too out of the ordinary, just flying long range patrols and doing a few bombing runs,” you replied, “How was it for you guys? Everything go according to plan?”

Bob stayed silent for a moment, “It went as well as it could have I think,” he paused, pointing a finger at Jake as he continued speaking, “This one decided to play the hero again, but we are all safe and sound now.”

You turned to look at Jake, “You did what?”

“I’m mission leader now, I have to protect my men,” he said, quietly, taking in the look on your face for a moment, he added, “I will always come back to you.”

You nodded, “You better, Jake, because I can guarantee you that if you don’t, I will be much worse than anything you could face on the other side.”

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, “I know honey, you can be scary when you want to be.”

Once everyone had made it to the truck, you gave them all hugs and thanked them for coming to greet you before Jake helped you up into the passenger’s seat and shut the door. He drove you back to your apartment, your hand clasped tightly in his own. When you arrived, Jake only told you to, “Get ready for your surprise, bring something comfy and warm.”

You rolled your eyes at him before making your way into your bedroom. Standing under the spray of the shower, the scalding hot water was one of the most heavenly things you had ever felt. When you had thoroughly washed your tired body, you climbed out, towelling off before dressing in your favourite jeans and a T-shirt. You unzipped your duffle bag, pulling out the University of Texas sweatshirt that Jake had sent with your letter. Slipping it over your head, the oversized shirt fell to your mid thigh and you couldn’t help but smile at how much larger Jake was than you. Before leaving the bedroom, you grabbed a pair of sweat shorts for later.

You made your way into the living room, enjoying the look on Jake’s face when he saw you wrapped up in his sweatshirt, “Let’s get going, I don’t want to be late,” he said, his voice low and gravelly sounding.

The two of you made your way out of the apartment and climbed back into his truck.

“What’s that surprise you were talking about?” you asked, buckling yourself up inside Jake’s truck.

“Strap in, it’s a little way away, and we’re stopping by Costco for snacks,” Jake replied. He had been all smiles since telling you he was whisking you away for a romantic evening somewhere special. He had, however, refused to elaborate no matter how hard you tried to get him to slip up and reveal the surprise.

Jake had even taken your bag out of your hands, refusing to let you anywhere near the truck bed over which he had pulled the cover so you wouldn’t be able to peek, and climbed into the driver’s seat of his truck. He fiddled with his phone a little, pulling up a brand new playlist and attached his phone to the circular magnet fastened in his car’s vents on the console. He pressed shuffle and the first bars of Take Me Home, Country Roads began to play.

You relaxed into the seat, looking through the window at the views until Jake pulled into the Costco parking lot and handed you a list, “I need to get gas, so, this is the snack list, grab as much as you can and I will meet you in ten,” he said. Then, reaching into the glove box of his truck he pulled out his wallet and gave you his card, “You know the pin, right?” he asked.

“And how do you plan on paying for gas?” you asked slightly incredulously, and hoping that Jake might let you pay this once. True to his word, you had never actually needed to pay for anything since you had been with him and while nice at first, you wanted to return the favour.

“This is my debit card, I’ll get gas with the credit card. Now, go, we’re losing time. I don’t want to be late,” he said, leaning over to your side to kiss your cheek and unbuckling your seatbelt and opening your door at the same time. After practically being ejected from the truck, you left to get a trolley and entered the shop.

Having braved the Friday evening grocery store queues you resurfaced ten minutes later with three bags of snacks. Jake was waiting in one of the parking spots closest to the entrance. You handed him the card and the bags, knowing your fiancé was stubborn about not showing you what he kept in the truck bed and abandoning your fight.

Once he had hopped back into the driver’s seat and buckled up, Jake drove the two hours to your destination while humming to his playlist, looking at you out of the corner of his eye and sending you flirtatious smiles every few minutes. Eventually, he pulled into the Joshua Tree National park entryway with a grin.

“Are we going camping?” you asked.

“Something like that,” he smiled mischievously, “We’re not going far,” he added.

Jake continued down the drive to the Smith’s Ranch Drive-In Movie Theatre where he paid the ten dollar fee before reversing into one of the middle row parking spots.

“Movie starts in an hour, should give us plenty of time to get cosy,” he said, already climbing out of the cab and walking to the truck bed. You followed suit, eager to see what else your date entailed. Jake pulled the cover off, revealing two thin yoga mats, laid flat against the bed, partially covered by a bunched up duvet, four pillows and a couple of extra blankets. Jake looked at it with a slightly disapproving glint in his eye, “Must have moved during the journey,” he concluded, pulling back the duvet to show the fallen costco bags, which had spilled snacks over most of the makeshift sleeping area.

The two of you changed into your comfy clothes in the drive-in bathrooms, not your ideal place, but there was nowhere else to go, before making your way back to the projection site.

Your sweat shorts were just short enough that Jake’s sweatshirt hung down over them, making it appear like you had nothing on underneath. As you sauntered back up to the truck, the look on Jake’s face was priceless, “Don’t worry, I’m wearing shorts too,” you said, laughing a little.

He nodded, eyes wide, “I’m sure you are darlin’,” his accent thick in his voice. He provided you a hand to help pull you into the bed of the truck just in time for the movie to start. The Back to the Future Marathon started at seven sharp, and ended around one in the morning, after a short speech celebrating the release date of the first instalment of the trilogy and a short appearance by Christopher Lloyd to finish up the night.

“Didn’t know you liked Back to the Future that much,” you said, after most of the other cars had already driven off. Jake had pulled you into the covers with him so you laid together, facing each other, whispering in the darkness.

“Don’t hate me…” he replied, biting his lip with a guilty expression, “I despise it. I hate the premise. And why is Doc Brown hanging out around a teenager? Why is that truancy officer such a hard-ass? I just don’t get it,” he explained.

You looked at him in pretend offence, “How dare you?” you exclaimed.

“I know, I know,” he laughed, “Sue me. I think they’re bad films.”

“Then, why are we here?” you asked.

“Because, if the fact that you own this trilogy twice and that you proudly display the novelisation of this crime against cinema is anything to go by, this is your favourite movie,” he said.

“And you would sit through it all for me?” you asked, a smile on your face.

Jake let out a quiet laugh, “Honey, I’d do anything for you.”

You stayed silent for a moment, watching the man you loved so much before giving him a teasing smile, “Wonderful, I hear they’re showing Twilight in the cinema next week, I was going to drag Natasha along but…”

You sighed as you looked at him, suddenly growing more serious, “I missed you a lot” you said, the five words somehow not enough and perfectly fine at the same time. You would never be able to put what you had felt into words but when Jake spoke, you realised he understood perfectly.

“Yeah I missed you too. It felt awful not having you around, Bob and Rooster tried to help, but it didn’t do much for my mood,” he replied, “I don’t like being away from you,” he added.

You hummed, after a pause Jake spoke again, “I know we’re not supposed to before marriage, but what do you think of moving in together?” you raised an eyebrow, “We buy a house a little bit before the wedding and move in. We wouldn’t sleep in the same room until we say ‘I do’ obviously, but I don’t think I can be away from you for that long. I want to be able to wake up and see you in the kitchen, or come home after work and see you on the sofa watching that shitty tv show you like -- what’s the name -- the one with the visa applications and shit --”

“Ninety day fiancé?” you provided.

“Yes! That’s the one! -- I want to be able to come home and see you watching that. Spending any time away from you is unbearable, baby,” he finished.

You thought over his words for a moment, “What kind of house are we looking for then?” you asked. Jake smiled brightly, his happiness practically radiating through the darkness. He snaked one arm around your waist and slid you closer.

“I was thinking something a little further away from base,” He said, kissing you, “with a garden” he added, kissing you again, “and enough bedrooms for a truckload of kids,” he said, kissing you longer this time.

You came up for air, “And how many kids is that?” you asked.

“Twenty to thirty?” he replied, grinning at you.

“Oh my, we should get started on that soon after the wedding then,” you laughed.

“It’s up to you, but I wouldn’t be upset if we started within a year,” he grew serious, “I want kids, Y/n, I’m ready,” he said, falling back onto the mats and turning on his back to look up at the sky.

“I’d like a little time to just be your wife I think. But I wouldn’t want to wait longer than a year,” you replied, lifting yourself up on your elbow and using your other hand to brush a loose hair out of his face.

“Isn’t your contract coming to a close soonish?” he asked.

“Two years,” you replied, “Why?”

“Just asking,” he said, then, after a pause, “It’s up to you what you want to do, but if you wanted to stay at home, I wouldn’t have a problem with that.”

“How about we get married first, then I decide?” you replied, having made your decision not to renew your contract as soon as the words had left his mouth.

Jake hummed, “So I think Navy blue and white is a little ironic…” he said, “Maybe we can add another colour, how about brown?”

“I like brown, makes it a little woodsy,” you agreed, laying back down onto the bed. Jake removed the hand behind his head and extended his arm over your pillow, silently asking you to cuddle close to him.

You eventually drifted off to sleep, the excitement of being home and the comfortable atmosphere with Jake letting your body relax more than it had in weeks. Jake gently woke you once the drive-in parking lot had cleared out, and you slept the entire way home. Instead of bringing you back to your apartment, he brought you back to his, tucking you gently under the covers of his own bed. In the morning, you found him sprawled out on the couch, one arm behind his head and the other resting on his stomach, as small snores escaped him.

#fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #fanfiction #hangman x reader #original fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin #hangman top gun

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yesyourstalker · 5 months

Text

Part 3 I'm almost done I hope. I'm being honest I spent 3 hours cooking in 4 hours sleeping after

Warabi: so this is the store pretty big

Neta: Oh yeah, It's a pretty big place I'm going to need a lot of vendors and more artists to sell here. My main worry is that I lose my brand and my image , If we started out with underground bands, alternative music like metal and rock. If I start selling mainstream stuff I don't want to come off as a sellout

Warabi: I don't think that's going to happen. It's not like you're going to stop selling underground stuff it's not like you're going to stop supporting them either. You're just expanding your business to a broader audience the fact, you're worrying about your image and your brand just shows that you still care about your original customers.

Oshi: That's some great advice ink drop!

Warabi: mom!!! Uhhh what are you doing here?.... I thought you were on whale back island.... To get away from the snow

Oshi: we were planning on doing that until you're wonderful boss invited us to the party. I just couldn't miss that right shim?

Shimi: [eating] how much was the caterer here? These stuffed tentacles are good! Melts in the mouth.... This is the store? really big. You sure you have enough stuff to sell in here or are you going to stock 10 Rows of belts and jewelry to fill space?

Warabi: dad! That's rude!

Shimi: It's a genuine question. Do you have a layout plan or anything? What's the look you're trying to do

Neta:my original store kind of has a basement/ attic-like design, old vintage t-shirts, guitars, vinyl. someone's garage type feel.

Oshi: Oh so nostalgia... I like that

Shimi: I know a lot of people who are very good in interior design... [ eating] we just got our vacation home remodeled...... I can see if I can give you his number. Tell him the octavios sent you. They'll give you a discount.

Neta: thank you Mr. Octavio. I deeply appreciate this

Shimi: well that should count as a frosty fest gift cuz we didn't get you anything we didn't think we had to

Neta: oh That's good because you didn't have to do that. .

Warabi: Dad,.... That are really nice moment and then you had to ruin it with the last- what the fuck?

Oshi: ink drop language!

Warabi: I'm sorry just give me one second....

_______________________________________________

Candi: Candi!?!

Candi: *gasp* oh my Cod! Shut the hell up. Are you kidding me? What are you doing here?!! Ahhhhhh

Candi: ahhhhhh Oh my god it's been so long!! girl What are you up to?

Candi: Oh you know. Just trying to survive.

Candi: I hear that, I hear that I looove makeup!

Candi: stop lying. I just smeared this shit on at the last minute hehehe you know I have no sense of time.

Mizole: I didn't know you knew each other. How do you know candi?

Candi: That's really none of your business

Candi: I don't have to tell you everything about my personal life. Go find Ichiya or something. Bye. Go.. cod that guy

Candi: Right.... He drives me out the wall everyday.

Candi: you know they dated?

Candi: hahaha Oh my Cod you have to tell me.... Oh crap...no no no ... I have to go. I'll be right back I promise. Just give me one sec girlie

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Ikkan: so I yeah Mike Murrays actually played the sax around-

Baja: around 1989! But when Blue Ocean breeze came out-

Tao: He switched to a clarinet! It was like his staple instrument throughout the '90s.

Baja: He actually went through like five clarinets throughout those years. I think he's probably one of the most popular non-pop or rock idles out there.. but he's been gone for like 8 years and it somehow we still all know him

Ikkan: he Pioneered jazz..

Tao: oh yeah I'm a big fan of their later works it really influenced the ska genre

Ikkan: you see I used to dislike his later work when I saw The influencer had on other genre I took another like listen to it. It's really good! It's like an organized mess

Baja: right?! It's chaotic but smooth. He actually went to jelly Port for a tour and met up with Sting time stingers back in 01 which I guess gave him more of an influence to the newer albums

Tao: It's a Shame he died before they could release the album with the stingers I know there's a demo out there they release but it's hard to find

Ikkan: I've been trying to find it there is a specific website and the URL is in octarian so I'm trying to get Neta to- hm .... I'm sorry will excuse me for a quick sec.

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Mahi: why the fuck are you here?!

Taka: I was invited of course. I can't miss an opportunity to be around my fellow artist. Why are you here you have no talent.

Mahi: I'm here because Neta wants me here! unlike you! You think we forgot how you treated him!

Taka: *pffth*.... how I treated him. As if taking him out to dinner, giving him a gift and being at his beckon call when he felt "lonely". He was honestly really sad.... But he is a sad person....boy he was hot tho...heh ..was

Mahi: you want to take this outside

Warabi: Mahi hay! the table is all out of drinks let's go get some more.

Candi: yeah let's just go to corner store. Their self checkout is still open let's just get some more wine and spritzer I am sober so I can drive so let's go. Let's go now. Mahi.

Mahi: [staring down taka]

Ikkan: mahi please don't ruin this event by a fight. Neta will never forgive you if you do.... Listen, go with Candi and Warabi and I'll handle this...

Mahi:...... Fine. .... I'll wait until the party ends

Ikkan: I'll get the bouncer.. kick them out before Neta - hi babe.

Neta: what happened? Why did everyone rush over here

Ikkan: Hi uhhh You're three employees are just going out to get some more refreshments they just didn't know how to

Neta: We have more in the back of my car they don't have to go out and......... Oh I see.....hey Taka......... I forgot I invited high tide

Taka: I was good to see you too. You look............ Uh

Neta:.............

Taka: I guess you stuck to the normal look huh... I like the glasses.....heheh..you look great heheheh . Man you let yourself go holy shit

Ikkan:ok that's it SECURITY!

Neta:.............. .. I'm going to get some air

Ikkan: I'll come with you.

_______________________________________________

Mahi and @fish-at-fish-fish-resort and gonna beat the shit out of taka after the party

#of course I was going to make shit sad you know me #Candi and Candi know each other from highschool #Ichiya and mizole enemies to friends to friends with benefits to lovers back to enemies in one year #Warabi's parents are insufferable but I love them #taka being a terrible person as always he's lucky every one can to get mhai because he would be drowning in the punch bowl #ikkan moment when you're a metal head #but your special interest is jazz

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lgg5989 · 2 years

Text

Church Encounters Chapter 13

Hey guys! Thanks to everyone for your continued support of this fic, @barbiewritesstuff and I are having a great time writing it. She is posting this on her tumblr as well so jump over and give her a like or a comment. We have had a few requests for side drabbles and stuff about these characters and we will be happy to answer them! Just send us asks :)

You can find the previous chapters on my Masterlist, and you can read the whole series so far on my Ao3! I made the moodboard, I hope you enjoy it! :D

Comment on my post or @barbiewritesstuff’s post to be added to the tag list.

PS. If Glen is reading this, do you like it so far?

Tagging: @roosterscock @sydneyhlove