#D-Day fic

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 18

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 8.2k (sorry, it's a long one)

Synopsis: After finding out his girlfriend is pregnant, Jake is ready to move in and get married. The last thing he expected was to be hit with a six-month deployment at sea and missing the birth of his first child.

18+, minors DNI

Chapter 17 | Series Master List | Ao3

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Chapter 18

Jake grabbed the curtain surrounding his berth and tugged it into place. He had the room to himself for what felt like the first time in forever, with Rooster and Fritz finally out at the same time. Fritz was doing nighttime refueling training, and they were doing a horror movie night since it was Halloween, but Jake backed out at the last minute, saying he was tired. The look Rooster gave him let Jake know the other pilot knew he was full of shit. 

After slipping his headphones on, he pulled up his phone photo album and tapped on the protected folder, typing in the password. At the top was the video he’d requested and hadn’t had a chance to watch yet, just above the dirty photos you’d texted him on his 36th  birthday. His hand rested low on his stomach as he held the phone up and tapped to start the video.

“A bet’s a bet,” you sighed, lifting the camera to show yourself in the bathroom mirror. You wore his blue service jacket, sleeves bunched around your wrists and buttons straining against your stomach. Taking a step back, you put his cap on your head, turning to the side and smirking at the mirror. “This what you had in mind, Tex? Or…” your fingers moved to undo the buttons, and the material fell away to show your rounded stomach. 

“Fuck,” Jake breathed, palm itching to run over your skin. His own was a poor substitution as he rucked up his shirt, running his fingers along the waistband of his sweats and wishing he felt your touch. 

“Hope you don’t mind,” you purred, nuzzling the jacket collar. “But I sprayed some of your fancy cologne on this so I can pretend you’re here.” With a hand resting on your stomach, you turned back to face the mirror, and he spied the red toy between your legs. Biting back a groan, Jake remembered how the advertisement said it would hit your g-spot just right while sucking your clit.

He’d never been jealous of a hunk of silicone before. 

After 2.5 months at sea, he had a harder time remembering your rich taste on his tongue. Jake could have sworn that it was etched into his core memories, but the longer he was away from you, the harder it was to remember. But he comforted himself with the knowledge that he would have to redouble his efforts when he was home to make sure that it was permanently seared into his brain. 

He also wondered if you tasted different now that you were six months pregnant. Jake watched as you peeled his jacket back to show your breasts, his mouth watering at the sight. They were so much bigger than the last time he’d seen them. Touched them. Tasted them.

You were gorgeous. So pretty and growing big with his baby. When your hand lifted to circle your nipple before pinching it, his hand slipped into his boxers to grip his cock. He wanted it to be his touch that made you bite your lip. A smirk crossed your mouth as you slid a hand into the coat pocket and pulled out a small remote. Cocking an eyebrow, you chuckled, “So this might be one of my favorite thing you’ve … ”

The smirk fell from your mouth, replaced with a look of confusion as your hand dropped to your stomach. After tossing the remote onto the sink, you flipped the camera and propped it against the mirror, shaking back the sleeves of his jacket to press both hands to your stomach. 

“I could have…” you said softly. Jake sat up, nearly banging his head on the top bunk as he watched your expression turn to one of awe. Moving both hands to the left side of your stomach, you beamed at the camera. “Babe, I think Sloane just kicked!” 

Jake laughed, running a hand through his hair. You’d told him that you felt little flutters and small movements but had been getting worried about not feeling her move as much. Dr. Shearer had assured you that it was normal to take longer to recognize the movements in your first pregnancy, but that had done little to quiet that fear.

And now, just when Mama was about to have some fun and let Daddy see, Sloane had decided to make her presence known. 

“I, uh…” you said, brushing tears from your cheeks. “I’m gonna owe you a video because I feel awkward doing this now. Love you, babe.” When you stepped closer to the camera, he could see your chin wobbling, and his smile dropped. But you grinned, the emotion not quite meeting your eyes, and blew a kiss at the camera before turning it off. 

Jolting awake, you choked on a sob. Tears dampened your pregnancy pillow as you reached for the empty side of the bed, fingers curling in the cold sheets. 

“Fuck,” you gasped. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You forced your eyes open, afraid to close them, and slip back into sleep. 

For the last few days, you’d been having vivid dreams. At first, it had been weird but pleasant - there’d been a couple of dreams about Jake being home and setting up the nursery. Another one was hanging out at the beach with your parents. But after seeing a video on TikTok about a neighbor running to support her friend when she was notified of her husband dying in a training accident, you’d had nothing but nightmares of that very scenario.

Of sitting on the couch and reading. The doorbell ringing. Opening the door to Javy standing beside a Chaplin, tears streaking his face. Hearing him say your name softly. “I’m so sorry. He’s gone.” 

And, without fail, you would wake up when your knees hit the floor, Javy’s arms gently guiding and trying to protect you. 

After one of those dreams, you didn’t want to sleep. So, instead, you’d pace the house or go into the nursery. Your parents had sent you a gliding chair that Phoenix and Payback had moved for you, and it was becoming your unofficial second bed. Being surrounded by the things that Jake had touched - had gotten ready for your daughter - helped to soothe some of the anxiety. And while you might wake up sore and stiff from sleeping in the chair, it was better than lying awake in an empty bed. 

Lifting the arm of the pillow, you sat up and swung your legs over the side of the bed. A glance at your phone showed that it was after 3:00AM - three hours before your alarm was set to go off. Sighing, you stood and retreated to the bathroom, pausing to grab a sweater that Jake had left, and you’d officially stretched out too much to return to him when he got back. After spritzing his cologne on it and splashing water on your face, you grabbed your phone and walked to the nursery. 

The nightlight projected galaxies on the ceiling as you settled into the glider, hand resting on your stomach. Sloane was quiet, apparently sleeping after putting on a show for her aunt and uncles over lunch. The Daggers had dragged her to the base food court with a bribe of French Fries soaked in malt vinegar from Charlie’s. When you’d felt Sloane move, there’d been some light-hearted shoving of one another to see if they, too, could feel her. Eating with two hands on your belly was awkward, but Sloane had apparently been feeling the love. She had made sure that her family felt every wiggle and kick.

You tried not to think too hard about Jake missing all of it, but it was hard. Not only was he missing out on seeing his daughter grow, but things were getting more challenging to handle alone. Grocery shopping was a pain, as bending to get anything from a lower shelf was difficult. It seemed like you couldn’t go outside without some well-intentioned stranger giving you advice or - creepily - wanting to touch your stomach. Even taking a bath was getting harder due to the struggle of getting out of the tub, which sucked because a lukewarm one - pregnancy had robbed you of your scalding hot water - was one of the few things that helped with insomnia. 

Pulling up your phone, you scrolled through social media before flipping to the news. When it was nothing but negative stuff, you locked the screen and placed it on the window sill, folding your hands over your stomach. Forcing away the lingering images from your dream, you instead pictured Jake pacing the living room, gently bouncing Sloane. Of standing side-by-side and struggling to give her a bath in the sink. Slathering sunscreen on chubby cheeks and spending a day at the beach. 

For as much as he was missing, you thought, there was so much more that he would be there for. 

But even that thought was cold comfort tonight as an image from a previous dream of attending Jake’s funeral intruded. Tears trailed down your cheeks as you rocked, wishing Sloane would move and distract you.

But instead, it was your phone that lit up. 

I know it’s late but I just got to watch your video. You looked sexy as hell, darling. So glad you caught our little girl moving, though. Love you so much, and I’ll talk to you soon. 

The screen dimmed, and you quickly snatched up your phone to type back I love you too. The message was marked as read instantly, and three dots appeared.

You’re up early. Is everything okay?

Fingers hovering over the screen, you hesitated. And then the screen lit up again with an incoming call. Jake’s grinning face made tears spring to your eyes again. Answering it, you quickly put the call on speaker and softly said, “Hello?”

“Hey, darlin’. Why is my sleepy girl up so early?” His voice, with a gently teasing tone, made you inhale sharply. Halfway across the world, Jake sat up - again narrowly avoiding hitting his head - and frowned. The teasing was gone when he said your name. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” 

“N-nothing. Just had a nightmare,” you croaked, pausing to clear your throat. “I’m fine. We’re fine.” 

“What kind of nightmare?”

“The bad kind.” Jake’s hand flexed in his sheets, swallowing hard as he heard a plane landing overhead. He made an inquiring sound, and you tried to keep the anxiety from your voice as you asked, “You’re okay? Nothing’s wrong?”

“Me?” he sounded surprised. “Yeah, I’m fine. Is that… is that what you dreamed about?” When you hummed a response, he sighed. “Darlin’, don’t you worry about me. I’m completely fine, other than missin’ you and Sloane like crazy.” 

“You better stay that way, Jacob Michael,” you sniffled, hearing his groan. 

“Don’t cry, baby. I promise you, I’m okay. And I’m being careful.” And he was - to the extent that Rooster had made a crack about sitting on the perch during their last dog fight. But after watching a call that was too close between young pilots trying to show off, Jake wasn’t willing to take the risk. The safety briefing that afternoon had been a review of the basics. He may have accidentally, on purpose, kicked the chair of the idiot pilots when they groaned and pretended to doze, nodding and flipping a toothpick in his mouth when they turned to glare at him. If they weren’t going to take the war game dress rehearsals seriously, they would be the first ones shot down. 

He’d already talked to Mav to ensure he and Rooster were in the air with the idiots next time. A little humbling would be good for them. With his wingman watching his six, it’d be easily accomplished while keeping a safer distance. 

“You better be,” you mumbled. “How have you been?”

“Not bad,” he replied, updating you on bouncing around the Pacific. They’d steamed past the Korean coast and were headed back out to sea and would be docking in Yokosuka, Japan in a few weeks, just in time for Thanksgiving. After months on the carrier, he looked forward to standing on dry land again, especially with the promise of six days in port with liberty. 

There was silence on the other end of the line, and he wondered if you’d fallen back asleep. But then, you spoke. “Sloane’s moving. I think she can hear her daddy.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Your tone was bittersweet, and he let out a breath. 

“Wish I could feel her.” 

“Me too, babe.” There was a long pause before you asked, “Do you know how much liberty you’ll have in Yokosuka?” 

“At least four days. Why? Want me to pick something up for you?” There was another long silence.

“I have a doctor’s appointment coming up.” Jake frowned at the change of topic.

“Yeah? Everything good?”

“It’s the glucose test and a check-up. But…” He heard you blow out a shuttering breath. “How would you feel about me asking if I could fly out to see you?” 

Jake grunted in pain when he hit his head on the overhead berth. Scrubbing a hand over what he knew would be a knot, he asked, “Are you serious? Would it even be safe for you to fly?” 

“I don’t know, but I can ask.”

“Darlin’ - ” Jake choked on the word, trying to hold back the wave of hope and happiness, not wanting to feel it in case the doc said it was too dangerous. “I miss you. I want you here if it’s safe.” 

“Yeah?”

“Always want you with me, darlin’.” Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he quickly swiped away the tear that slid down his cheek. He couldn’t get his hopes up that he would see his wife. That he would get to have some small part in this pregnancy. He could feel his baby move. 

“I always want you with me, too, babe.” 

Gathering your hair in one hand, you fanned the back of your neck while walking the flight line. The temperature was creeping over 70 degrees, and you were sweating while walking between the hangers with some of the mechanics. They were auditing their tools to order replacements now that the new fiscal year had begun. Already on the top of the list were new trucks for the depot. There, you’d gotten an earful on issues with the new plane towing machine, meaning you needed to call the contractor to come back and inspect it. 

Overhead, a jet flew, lowering the landing gear. Sloane moved, and you couldn’t help but smile. She was usually active when you were on the flight line, and you knew that Jake would love that fact. 

Knowing you’d see him in two weeks made things easier. When you’d broached the topic with Dr. Shearer, she’d cautioned that you were tiptoeing the edge of the safe times to travel internationally while pregnant. Generally, women were warned not to travel overseas from 28 to 35 weeks pregnant, and you’d be right at 28 weeks when you flew out. But after reviewing your labs, talking for a while, and a few tears, she’d agreed that your mental health was an important factor in allowing you to go. After giving you a list of precautions to take, including bringing a copy of your medical records in case anything happened while you were in Japan, she agreed to sign off on the trip.

However, Jake had been more cautious when you relayed the news. As excited as he was, he didn’t want to put any additional stress on you or Sloane by having you travel almost 20 hours one-way. When he’d pointed out that you’d be traveling about 40 hours for only 4 days, you’d told him to kindly shut the hell up while fighting back tears. Yes, it wouldn’t be the most comfortable time to travel, but you were frustrated with him trying to move the goalpost - Dr. Shearer cleared you, and you wanted to see him. 

“Do you even want me to come?” you demanded, unable to keep the hurt and frustration from your voice.

“Of course, darlin’. I just want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I wasn’t aware that you became an OB in the last three months, Dr. Seresin.” He’d sighed your name at that. 

“I’m just worried about you coming all this way for just four days.”

“Worst case scenario, I go into labor there, and you actually get to see your daughter born.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Jake said. 

“Fine. But Dr. Shearer said I can go as long as I don’t have any issues between now and flying out, and as long as you’re still getting off that ship, I’m going to be there.” 

So you were taking Dr. Shearer’s advice - and requirement - to stay healthy to receive the medical clearance and for Jake’s peace of mind. As much as you wanted to go home and sleep after work, you’d started walking around the neighborhood again. Thankfully, your diabetes test had been negative. However, you were still carefully watching what you ate and made sure to cut back on how many runs you were making for salty french fries at night, no matter how much Sloane wanted them. And you’d increased your water intake, which had the added benefit of making you pee more frequently. It was inconvenient, given how often you were out on the flight line.

Blowing out a breath, you let your hair drop and shifted, feeling the familiar need to head back inside to the nearest bathroom. When Sloane shifted again, you felt a twinge in your back and dug your thumb into it. As much as you wanted to head back inside, you needed to complete the audit. One of the perks of working for the federal government was the number of holidays - and therefore days off - that occurred between September and February, but it was hell on getting contracts done. And with your due date in February, you wanted to ensure you had all your ducks in a row for when you went on maternity leave. 

But staring down a three-day weekend for Veteran’s Day, you were looking forward to relaxing away from the heat and work stress. Javy would come over on Saturday to mow the lawn, and there were tentative plans to go to a movie with Bob on Sunday. Mostly, you just wanted to relax. Insomnia was taking a toll on you, and you were ready to curl up on the couch while watching television and napping. Jake had mentioned possibly doing a video call this weekend, which would have been an added bonus.

But those plans disappeared when you turned your husband’s truck into the neighborhood and saw a strange car in your driveway. Unfortunately, it was right in front of where you needed to go to park in the garage. A peculiar sense of deja vu hit you as you stopped beside them and glanced into the passenger seat, spotting your mother-in-law. 

“Fuck,” you hissed, forcing a smile when she turned to look at you. Lifting a hand, you waved before turning off the ignition. Resting on your leg was a small, silver piece of confetti shaped like a bell - even months after the Daggers had dumped them in Jake’s truck after the wedding, you’d found one in the cab. It was almost like the universe knew that you needed some small reminder of your husband on a day like today. Shoving it into your pocket, you unbuckled yourself and reached for your work bag in the passenger seat. 

Sarah was standing outside of the truck, waiting impatiently. But the person who circled the car wasn’t who you’d expected. He was tall and slim, with brown hair that had lightened with age. The slope of his shoulders was familiar, as was the cleft in his chin. 

Even though you’d never met him, you recognized your father-in-law from the few photos Jake kept of him. 

The ready room erupted in noise as the officers were dismissed from the strategy meeting on Saturday morning. Jake closed his notebook and sat back, pressing his pen cap to his lip as he studied the whiteboard. With the war games officially kicking off in early December, the higher-ups were fine-tuning the plans and wanted updates on training. As TOPGUN instructors, Mav and Rooster were officially in charge of ensuring the pilots were up to the task, but he’d also been pulled in as an unofficial trainer. 

Jake tried not to overthink Rooster's comment a few weeks ago when they’d been talking about buying houses. Rooster had been working with a realtor in San Diego but couldn’t find anything he liked before they deployed, and his stuff was sitting in storage. And as much as Jake liked the rental, he liked the idea of owning the house you’d raise your kids in even more. If promoted to Lt. Commander, he’d probably have more leeway in ensuring they stayed in Lemoore, extending with the Vigilantes or moving to a different squadron. He knew he was due for orders in the next year or so and that he needed to update his dream sheet ASAP. 

But in his gut, Jake felt he’d get orders to PCS sooner rather than later. Cyclone had told Rooster that two instructor positions were opening in Miramar in the summer. Warlock was tasked with compiling the list of graduates he wanted to recall, and Jake was pretty sure his name was there. The WSO instructor position had already been filled. Fanboy had already texted the Dagger chat to let everyone know he was headed out West during PCS season. 

Not to mention the vague comment Mav, finally up for promotion to Rear Admiral, had made about a permanent squadron being built up at TOPGUN for specialized missions. Who knew how long it would take to establish it, but… if he was reading the signals right, it looked like there might be a move south in his future. 

Before, that wouldn’t have been an issue. Even with his first marriage, his wife had said she was ready for anything. Finding a new job in her career wasn’t an issue. And it had just been the two of them. But now? Now, it would be a bit harder for that to happen. There were only so many contracting jobs on base, and military spouses weren’t guaranteed anything. In the worst-case scenario, you could return to private contracting - there were always offices around bases. An overseas posting would be more complicated. While he knew the two of you could manage it, he knew you liked being stateside and having your parents a short plane ride away - especially with Sloane. 

As the room emptied, Jake pushed to his feet and ran a hand through his hair. Thankfully, this meeting was the last thing he had to do today for work. He already had plans to hit the barber and do laundry, and he mentally added printing out a copy of his dream sheet. With you coming in a few weeks, he knew he needed to update it ASAP. Lemoore would be his top choice, pulling the international postings. As fun as being overseas would be, he had to put his family first now. Deployments would be enough. 

Tugging down the arm of his khaki shirt - they were tighter than usual due to having nothing but time to work out - Jake couldn’t keep the smirk from his mouth as he walked the hallway back to his room. He couldn’t wait to see you in two weeks, even though he worried about you traveling. But he knew better than to voice his concerns after you’d snapped at him. So he’d done everything he could to make sure that the trip was safe. After you’d sent him the tickets you were eyeing, he’d bought them and upgraded the seat so you’d be comfortable. The last-minute tickets were expensive but absolutely worth it - you’d already agreed that this would be both of your Christmas gifts. And he’d booked a room at the Yokosuka Navy Lodge, so you’d be on base and close to the hospital if you needed anything. 

Fritz nodded at him when he stepped inside, turning his attention back to the show he was watching on his laptop. After tossing his notebook onto the small desk, Jake quickly undid the buttons of his shirt while toeing off his shoes. Once he changed into his civvies, he’d hit the barber and then go for a run. The weekend was the worst time to do laundry, but he was running out of undershirts and socks. 

The safe door clicked open when the dial reached the last number. Jake retrieved his wedding ring, swapping the black silicone band on his hand for the white gold now that he was officially off duty. It already had a couple of scratches on the metal, but he didn’t mind - just meant that time had passed since you’d slid it onto his finger four months ago. After placing the silicone band in the safe, he grabbed his phone and powered it on. It took a minute to connect to the wifi, so he shoved it into his pocket and grabbed his wallet. 

With another nod to Fritz, he stepped back into the hallway and stopped dead when he checked his phone and saw two misspelled texts you’d sent.

Prents here

U

“Sorry, it’s a bit of a mess,” you said, standing awkwardly in your kitchen as your in-laws looked around. You caught her critical glance at the dirty dishes in the sink - at least you’d remembered to run the dishwasher while at work - and the pillow and blanket on the couch. “Can I get you anything to drink? I have water, sparkling water, soda, juice, and milk if you’d prefer.”

“A beer,” Mark barked, his green eyes running the length of you before the corner of his mouth twitched. To his credit, he was conventionally attractive. You could see how he could attract women - traces of Jake were clearly present in his features - but you couldn’t figure out how he kept them once he opened his mouth. Placing a protective hand on your stomach, you forced a smile.

“I don’t actually have any beer,” you said. These days, the house was pretty much BYOB if people wanted alcohol while hanging out. “I’m pretty sure there’s some whiskey and rum if you’d prefer a cocktail.”

“I’ll go get some,” Sarah said softly, looking between you. Mark glanced at his wife and nodded. 

“Fine. I’ll have a sweet tea while I’m waiting.” 

“I have tea bags, but I don’t have sweet tea on hand.” 

“I can make some.” Huffing, Mark invited himself into the living room and threw the blanket on the couch onto the floor before grabbing the television remote. Taking a steeling breath, you turned to face Sarah. She straightened slightly with her husband across the house, lifting her chin as though daring you to say something. This wasn’t the woman who had paraded into your house over a year ago and called you Jake’s roommate or had made pointed comments about your wedding. 

“It’s nice to see you again. How long are you here for?” 

“The weekend. Mark wanted to meet you and make sure that you were doing alright with the deployment and…” she motioned to your stomach, fingers twitching as though she wanted to touch. Shuffling back a step, you nodded.

“Where are you staying?”

“Here,” Mark called from the living room, clearly listening in. “Where’s that tea?” Sarah walked to the pantry and started searching, ignoring your outraged expression.

“You’re staying here?” you asked. 

“No use spending money when my son’s got the room.” Mark smiled in what you assumed he meant to be a charming way but really looked sleazy and winked. “Want to keep an eye on my daughter-in-law, too.” 

Forcing your expression to remain neutral, you picked up your work bag. “I’m going to change. Make yourself comfortable.” The sarcastic remark was unnecessary, as his booted feet were kicked onto your coffee table. 

You could feel the bag vibrating against your leg as you retreated to your bedroom, loathed to leave the two unsupervised in your house but needing a moment to regroup. As soon as the door was closed, you reached into the bag and retrieved your phone, seeing that there were already four missed calls from Jake. Before you could call him back, it rang again. “What do you mean, ‘u’?” he asked as soon as you picked up. 

Tossing your bag onto the bed, you retreated to the bathroom. “Your parents are here.”

“My - ” The shock in his voice was unmistakable. “My parents are there?” 

“Your father currently has his shoes on my coffee table and wants a beer, and your mother is in the pantry making him sweet tea as a substitute until she goes out to get some.” 

There was a long silence before he spoke again, his anger barely contained. “Did he say why they came?”

“He said he wanted to keep an eye on me, and - ”

“That son of a bitch,” he snapped. You inhaled sharply, surprised at the venom in his voice. 

“Jake?”

“Put him on the phone.”

“I’m in our bathroom. Talk to me.”

“I can’t believe… how long are they staying?”

“The weekend, apparently. And they’re expecting to stay here.”

“Absolutely not. I told him he wouldn’t step foot in our house, and he waited for me to be out of the fuckin’ country to do it.” 

“You - ”

“I want you to call Coyote and get him there - now. And then you’re gonna call me back and stay on the phone until he gets there.”

“Jake, you’re scaring me. Tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t want him near you, not when I’m not there. I don’t trust him.” Taking a deep breath, you leaned against the counter and dropped your head into your hand. Unwelcome tears sprang to your eyes, but you forced your breath to be even. Right now, there was only room for one Seresin to freak out. 

“Babe, I understand you’re upset, but I don’t need Javy here to help manage this. I can - ” He hissed your name.

“You don’t know him. He’s not a good person.”

“I know that, Jake. From the little you’ve told me about him, I know that he’s an asshole and that your mother is not my biggest fan. But I need you to please take a breath and tell me the context of why you told him he wouldn’t be in our house.” Across the globe, he forced himself to take a deep breath and then another as you did the same. You heard voices in the background and then a door opening and closing. “You still there?”

“Yeah, tryin’ to find somewhere private. Hold on.” Closing your eyes, you felt the baby move. 

“Sloane’s moving,” you said softly. When he grunted a response, you sighed - clearly, he wasn’t willing to be distracted. So, instead, you moved deeper into the bathroom and pulled back the shower curtain to sit on the tub's rim. Eventually, Jake spoke again.

“Darlin’?”

“Yeah?”

“Can’t wait until I’m off this goddamn ship and can get some privacy.” It was on the tip of your tongue to say that he would have that in a couple of weeks, but you stayed quiet. When you closed your eyes, you could picture him running a hand through his hair and pacing. The silence stretched, and you refused to break it. “Do you trust me?” his voice was cautious, and you blew out a breath.

“Of course I do. Jake, if you don’t want them in our home, I’ll have them leave. I just… I need to have information so I can approach this the right way.” 

“The right way is with Coyote there.”

“Why?” you demanded. “Why do I need your best friend here? Is your father going to be violent when I ask him to leave?”

“He better not be,” Jake growled. Closing your eyes, you tried to push down your frustration at him for not telling you what was happening, knowing he needed a moment to gather himself. Your husband was a man of action and instinct, and you knew his not being there to handle this personally had to be hard for him. But you were more deliberate and planned, and you wanted to approach every situation with plans and backups in place. And to do that, you needed information.

It had been like this once before when you’d had your first fight about moving in together. Jake wanted it to happen immediately, while you wanted a more established timeline. But now, unlike then, other variables were in the mix - his parents. For as little as you knew about Sarah Seresin, you had at least interacted with her a handful of times. You knew some of her quirks and how she would try to get under your skin. How she’d try to manipulate the situation. But Mark? Your father-in-law was an unknown quantity. You knew he had a temper, was a frequent cheater, and was a horrible parent who emotionally abused his son. Still, you had no data on how to interact with him.

Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes. “Babe, please, I need you to focus because we have a situation, and I need to handle it in a minute. And to do that, I need you to be very honest with me right now about your concerns about me interacting with your father and answer a few questions for me.” Jake felt slightly annoyed when he clocked your tone - the one you used when working with a particularly difficult person. “First, why did you tell him he couldn’t step foot in our home?”

“Because he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to know you after what he said.”

“And what did he say?” 

“I don’t - ”

“Jacob.” 

“You heard him call you a tag chaser,” he said after a moment. You nodded, remembering that phone call where you’d first heard Mark’s voice when you’d called to invite them to the wedding and let his parents know about the pregnancy. “You didn’t hear him say…he said some pretty terrible things about you.” There was a sinking feeling in your stomach, but you forced your voice to be even when you asked him to clarify. Reluctantly, he did. “He said the baby probably wasn’t mine and that you’d cheat on me the moment you had the chance if you hadn’t already. And that… that you would leave me as soon as you got tired of military life, just like my ex did.”

“I…” you stared but couldn’t speak around the lump in your throat. A confusing mixture of anger, resentment, and hurt choked you. While the rational part of your brain knew that Mark Seresin’s opinion was worth less than the dirt on the sole of your shoe, the emotional part hated that your father-in-law would believe that about you. Clearing your throat, you nodded again. “W-what are your concerns with me confronting him alone?”

“Darlin’,” Jake groaned. When you hummed, he cursed under his breath. “I never saw him hit ma, but it was close. And I don’t… I can’t have that happen. Not with you.” 

“Alright,” you said, pulling the phone from your ear and putting it on speaker. Pulling up your text thread with Javy, you quickly typed a message.

911 - Seresins here. Jake wants you here when I kick them out. Can you come?

The message was marked as read immediately, and the response came right away - OMW

“Javy’s on his way,” you sighed. “I won’t do anything until he gets here. Do I need to find a way to keep your mom away from him?” He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. 

“I…I want to say yes, but you're my priority if it’s between you and her. Fuck!” Jake pulled at his hair, hating that you were being forced to deal with the situation. “Promise me you’ll call the cops if he does anything.”

“Of course.” Swiping away a rogue tear, you cleared your throat again. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, darlin’. I’m so sorry that - ”

“This isn’t on you,” you said, toeing off your shoes. “We can handle this. I’m gonna go check the mail to make sure that the door’s open for when Javy gets here. Do you want me to call you back when - ”

“Stay on the phone.” Grabbing your shoes, you closed your eyes and pushed to your feet. “Please, darlin’, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t.” After tossing your shoes into the closet, you glanced at yourself in the mirror and quickly fixed your makeup to ensure you didn’t look like you were crying. Exiting your bedroom, you glanced at where Mark was watching TV and didn’t see Sarah anymore. A glass of sweet tea sweat on the coffee table, having ignored the stack of coasters. 

Mark’s eyes narrowed briefly before his eyebrow rose as you walked through the living room. Forcing a smile, you tilted your head toward the door. “That my son on the phone?” he asked.

“It is. He says hi.” You heard Jake snort, and Mark’s lips curled in a fake smile.

“Tell him I said hello, and he needs to call his mama more.” 

“I will. I’m gonna go grab the mail.” Their rental car wasn’t in the driveway as you walked to the mailbox, the cement warm under your bare feet. There was a box from your parents sitting on the front porch. “Did you hear that?”

“Fuckin’ asshole,” was Jake’s response. Taking a breath, you cradled the phone between your shoulder and ear while grabbing the stack of magazines and envelopes. Slowly, you walked back to the house, mentally preparing to be civil to a man you hated with every fiber of your being and nearly dropping your phone when you tried to juggle it, the mail, and the box. 

“I’m gonna put my phone in my pocket for a second,” you said. Before he could respond, you did just that and pushed the door open, leaving it unlocked. Mark watched you walk toward the kitchen and smirked.

“The yard looks like shit, and the house doesn't look much better. Your mama clearly didn’t teach you how to keep a house for your husband, but don’t worry - Sarah’ll get you right before we leave.”  

You froze, hearing Jake’s tinny voice in your pocket. The television covered the noise by the couch, as Mark didn’t seem to notice it. “Excuse me?” 

“My son obviously didn’t marry you for your housekeepin’ skills,” the older man leered, and you shifted the box to more fully cover your stomach. “But a man should be able to leave on deployment and know that his woman’s takin’ care of his home. Sarah knew that, and she’ll make sure you learn.” 

“I’ll have you know that I was also raised in the military, so I’m not a civilian going through their first deployment. I know how this works because my dad deployed a lot when I was growing up, and it was just my mom and me,” you snapped without thinking. “And my house is not perfect, but I had no idea I’d have guests coming, I work full time, and I’m pregnant. So when it comes to dividing my time, I will pick my career and take care of myself over doing housework, especially when I’m mostly here by myself. And Jake knew how I cleaned before we got married.” 

Turning your back on the man, you stormed toward the kitchen and slammed the box onto the counter, the mail falling to the floor. Jake was talking as you bent to retrieve the post, hand sliding into your pocket to retrieve the phone. “You’ve got more fire than the last tag chaser, I’ll give ya that.” Mark leaned against the wall, grinning down at you. Grasping the counter's edge, you pulled yourself to your feet and tossed envelopes next to the box, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“I am not, and never have been, a tag chaser, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped calling me that. If anything, I married your son despite him being in the military.”

“Is that right?” he asked, pushing off the wall.

“Tricare’s just not worth it,” you shrugged. 

“You got a smart mouth on you, you know that?” That Texas drawl you found so charming on your husband made your skin crawl as he stepped closer. 

“It’s one of the things Jake loves about me.” The counter dug into your back as he moved into your personal space. 

“Your daddy shoulda tanned your hide for that and taught you some manners.” 

“We’ll agree to disagree on that.” When you tried to push past him, his hand shot out and wrapped around your upper arm, pulling you to a stop. Glancing at it, you forced your eyes up to meet his angry green gaze and felt a shot of fear go through you. “Take your hand off of me. Now.” You could clearly hear Jake yelling in the quiet kitchen, but the words were muffled. Mark glanced down at your leg. “I didn’t get a chance to hang up, so Jake’s heard all this.”

Sneering, the elder Seresin chuckled. “An’ what’s he gonna do for you when you’re here all alone? Clearly, you need a man to teach you a lesson, and if my son isn’t up to the task - ” 

When his hand rose, you lifted your chin as you wrenched yourself out of his grasp. “Do it and pull back a bloody stump,” you hissed. Adrenaline flooded your system, and anger at him daring to threaten you in your own home overrode any fear. “I’ll make sure you spend the nice, long holiday weekend in jail, and I’m pretty sure those assault charges would have more consequences since I’m pregnant.” 

“You little bit - ”

There was a knock at the front door, and you refused to take your eyes off the man in front of you as you yelled, “Come in!” You heard Javy call your name. “We’re in the kitchen.” 

Mark lowered his hands when he heard Javy’s quick footsteps, and he paused in the doorway. “Everything alright?” he demanded, glancing between you. 

“Everything’s fine,” you replied, keeping your voice even. “He was just going to wait outside for his wife to come back and then find a hotel for the weekend.”

“You can’t kick me out of my son’s house,” Mark snapped. Javy quickly moved to stand beside you, and you smiled sweetly.

“This is my house just as much as it’s Jake’s. And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the police and have them remove you.” 

“Let’s not get the cops involved if we don’t have to,” Javy said, attempting to play the peacekeeper. “Mr. Se - ”

“Chief Petty Officer Seresin, to you, boy.” At that, Javy’s eyes flashed, and his shoulders pulled back.

“Then it’s Lieutenant Machado to you. Now, she said to get out, so let’s go.” When Mark raised his hand again to point in your face, Javy stepped between you. “Back up.”

“You and my pussy of a son deserve each other.”

“Get. The fuck. Out of my house,” you ordered through clenched teeth, your palm itching to slap the man. Smirking, he took a step back and spit on the floor. Javy moved fast, grabbing the older man by the collar and walking him out of the kitchen and toward the door.

Ears ringing, you were unable to hear the words the two exchanged. The door slammed shut, seeming to shake the walls, and then Javy was back. “You okay?” he asked, pulling you into his arms. Shaking, you leaned into him, fingers digging into his back. 

“I’m okay,” you breathed, unable to keep tears from falling. “How’d you get here so fast?”

“Jake texted me.”

“Jake!” you sobbed, quickly pulling away and reaching for your phone. You could feel that you were starting to get light-headed, and the room spun, so you grabbed Javy’s arm, using it to help you onto the floor. Leaning back against the cabinet, you brought the phone up to your ear and heard your husband’s ragged breathing. “Jake?”

“Fuck, darlin’, are you okay?” he demanded. 

“I’m okay,” you answered. Looking up at Javy, you mouthed the word ‘water.’ He nodded and quickly grabbed a glass from over your head. 

“I can’t believe that fuckin’ asshole touched you. I’m gonna kill him.”

“I’m okay,” you repeated, hearing how worked up he was getting. Putting the phone on speaker, you accepted the water Javy handed you and mouthed your thanks. Forcing yourself to take slow sips, you could feel the room stop spinning. Crouching down in front of you, Javy studied your face.

“She’s a little pale but looks good, Hangman.”

“Jesus, Javy - I…” Jake seemed to choke on his words. “Thank you, man. I - ”

“No thanks necessary; I'm just glad you texted me. Payback’s outside keeping an eye on the situation.” 

“Reuben’s here?” you asked.

“We were at the bar when I got the texts. Pheonix and Bob are en route.” As if on cue, there was a knocking on the door before it opened. 

“Just me!” Nat called. Javy stood, glancing at the other pilot when she entered the kitchen. “All clear?” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “You mind staying here while I go back up Payback?”

“Bob’s five minutes out,” she said. Her gaze drifted to you. “You want to go get checked out?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Jake grunted in frustration. “Go get checked out, darlin’. Make sure you and Sloane are okay.”

“I’m fine,” you countered. “The worst I’ll have is a bruise on my arm. He didn’t touch me.”

“If he left a bruise, he did,” Jake countered. “Please, darlin’? For me?”

“But…” you sniffled, hearing his noise of concern. “But what if they tell me I can’t come see you?” He breathed your name, and you hung your head.

“I’d rather know that you and Sloane will be okay than see you in two weeks. That’s all that matters.” Tears streamed down your face as you silently cursed your in-laws. 

“Fine,” you whispered.

“I’ll take you,” Nat offered, and you nodded. 

Two hours later, you sat on the couch between Bob and Payback, a mug of ice cream settled on your stomach. Urgent Care had quickly cleared you but cautioned against any more stress when you’d admitted to feeling faint.

Jake had made you promise to call him back during the exam, and Nat had held the phone for you. Only after hearing Sloane’s strong heartbeat did he feel comfortable hanging up. 

By the time you’d gotten back, the Seresins were gone. When the Daggers made it clear that they wouldn’t leave you alone that night, you quickly ordered some pizzas while Javy ran home to pack an overnight bag, and Payback went to pick up some beers. When you’d tried to pick up the house a bit, Bob and Nat had made you sit on the couch and relax, keeping your feet elevated like the PA had told you to. 

After midnight, you woke to the hushed sounds of the aviators getting ready to leave. You hugged Nat, Reuben, and Bob before they left while Javy cleaned up the kitchen and took out the trash.  

“You don’t have to do that,” you yawned when he came back into the kitchen through the garage. 

“It’s no problem. I’m gonna crash in the spare bedroom if that’s cool.” 

“It’s all yours. And thanks, again, for everything this afternoon.” 

Javy shrugged, a sad smile tugging at his mouth before he turned to wash his hands. “I’m always gonna have your back. Chief Petty Officer Seresin” - his tone was mocking - “has been an asshole since I’ve known him. But you and Jake don’t deserve that.” 

Rather than respond, you waited for him to finish before hugging him. “I’m glad you got stuck with Jake at the Academy. And that you put up with him for this long.” 

“It has not been easy,” he chuckled. 

“At least you’re getting a goddaughter out of it.” He stiffened in your embrace, and you did as well. 

“I’m what?” 

“Please tell me that Jake has already had that conversation with you.” 

“I’m gonna be her godfather?” 

Groaning, you stepped back and buried your face in your hands. “Ignore what I said. Please - I didn’t… Jake was supposed to talk to you about this WEEKS ago!” 

“I’m gonna be a godfather!” Javy crowed, wiggling his shoulders in a celebratory dance. 

“You have to pretend I didn’t say anything when he asks you,” you begged. When his hands hovered over your stomach, you smiled and guided them to where Sloane was moving. 

“Hey, baby girl, it’s your Uncle Coyote. Gonna be the best godfather ever,” he promised. 

This time, the tears that slipped down your cheeks were from happiness and gratitude for the family that Jake had already given you. 

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

Author's Note: I am SO SORRY for the delay in updating this story. I got very caught up in my other Jake fic ('tis the damn season) which is set around Christmas. Jake and Darlin' unfortunately took a back seat. However, it gave me some time to mentally rework the chapter, as it - and the story as a whole - originally didn't include any Darlin' going to visit Jake, but just focused on the interaction with her in-laws. As always, thank you to @mamachasesmayhem for letting me bounce ideas off of her during the writing process.

And now you've met CPO Seresin, who is a piece of work... (in my experience) veterans who want to continue to be addressed by their rank tend to be. A couple military terms were used in this chapter - PCS is Permanent Change of Station, where you move bases; PCS season is usually in the summer. Generally, you PCS every 2-4 years -- the longest we ever stayed somewhere was 5 when Dad was able to extend. Due to the constant change, it is very hard for military spouses to build their own careers. One of my best friend's husband left the Air Force because she refused to prioritize his career over hers (she works in fashion, and he now works in finance), and my other best friend's husband also left when she became a director in her company. My mom wasn't able to have a career until my dad retired after 26 years.

Tricare is the military health insurance. Dream sheets are the list of bases that you'd like to be stationed at. The military will look at the list and where there's need, and then let you know where you're going. You are not guaranteed a base on your dream sheet, and it's important to keep them updated. My parents forgot to redo the international one, which is how we ended up moving from Japan to Spain when my parents were ready to come stateside.

Thank you so much for being patient with me updating - I appreciate you 🥺

Tag list: @mamachasesmayhem; @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily; @rest-of-brazilian-wax; @percysaidnever; @harperdoodle; @hardballoonlove; @maeleeme; @emma8895eb; @xoxabs88xox; @queenslandlover-93; @memoriesat30; @queerqueenlynn; @capswife; @regsg18; @boisewaffles; @fudge13; @starkleila

#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman smut #hangman fic #D-Day fic #jake hangman seresin

[paper-lilypie]

been keeping up with @okiedoketm’s time travel KobyLu fic for so long and only now FINALLY gotten around to drawing something for it hehe plops these here

#one piece #kobylu #cobylu #every week is a blessing and a half #getting to read these #man your KobyLu is just superior dude. chefs kiss #monkey d luffy #koby one piece #fanart #koby’s awful no good very confusing day #ao3 fic #kangvcd

[rrogueamendiares]

i just wanted to hold you in my arms

#they haunt me actually #i read a fic a few days ago where ww was a ghost and it was so GOOD and painful and it's living rent free in my mind since #as usual im shit at vocalising my brain rot in english so. just know that im thinking abt them constantly #trigun #trigun 1998 #trigun maximum #it's a mix lol #vash the stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #vashwood #my art #trigun fanart #vashwood fanart #trigun spoilers #trimax spoilers

[time-slink]

Voidwalker scar pretty please? 👉👈

[ ask game ]

HI STIFFF this actually kicked my ass super hard i haven’t drawn scar in forever

#my art #asks #art asks #gtws #goodtimeswithscar #dude. i went thru so many ideas with this n at some point i just went fuck it. lineart practice X) #he looks a little classic green alien but love that for him ? #my idea of voidwalker is limited from fic and mostly centered around breathing a different atmosphere tbh #was fun tho tyy stiff #last one of these asks i’ll do for the foreseeable future but there were also some i liked n might do one day :D

[isjasz]

Cherries, from fruit to pit. Atoms. The sun, every day. Worms. Mulch. Perspiration. The moon, every night. Me. You. 

Rebirth. 

The various cycles of life and death. 

<GoodTimeWithScar> fell from a high place. 

——————————

EXPLODES THE DOOR ITS HSBB TIMEEEEE This is my piece for @minecraftbed's incredible fic "Gaussian Blur" in @hermitshippingbigbang :D

Go read it for the full context of the comic (and details if you can spot them!) heheeehehe I love it sm and had sm fun doing the comic! The concept is so cool and the feels are KSALDHTHRGRRHRH (please i have been losing it)

SO *grabs you by the shoulders and throws you directly at it* gogogogo 👉👉👉👉👉

#dddaily4sherin #day 212 too YIPPEE #hermitshipping #scarian #desert duo #hermitblr #my art #comic #HSBB 2023 #i am srs i am throwing you towards the fic like hurling a brick DO IT NOW #also rain my beloved i found a new way to draw it and experimented with it a bit here :D #this event is so fun i swear. ty to all the mods AND THERE'S MORE TO COME SOOONNNN #also toby no crocs L #also*2 the shipping is there but its really more of a “almost but not quite what are they romance” as the tags say in the fic #its such a perfect description LOL #scar please not the goddamn basement

[dollsuguru]

black is the color of my true love’s hair

♡ your devotion to suguru is second to none - you would do anything for your beloved! bonded by true love, loyalty, & utter admiration, these are a few moments where suguru has been unbelievably thankful for you & smitten by your acts of love & service! (a story from my suguru geto: valentine’s day fic list!)

contents: f!reader, no curses au, reader is short/blushes/has hair that can be ran through with fingers! slightly suggestive, cursing, mentions of depression/anxiety/self-destructive behaviors. but i promise this is a soft, fluffy fic! it’ll make sense when you read it! dividers are from @saradika! w.c: ~ 11.5k

a/n: belated birthday fic for my beloved husband suguru geto <3 the title of the fic is based on a rendition of the song “black is the colour” by celtic woman! imo it’s the most loving & devotional song i’ve ever heard so i wanted to do a story based on those themes with my favorite black-haired man <3 MY true love <3 p.s. this is my first time ever writing an actual fic & it got a bit long because i got carried away so please bear w me! i hope you enjoy and happy valentine’s day! <3 MWAH!

it’s a simple action, really.

you tilt your head slightly to the right and lift your face up to gaze adoringly at him through your lashes, a mirthful twinkle dancing in your eyes. a soft smirk coupled with a light blush adorns your angelic features, a precious look, which suguru has come to be utterly enchanted by due to the loving action that follows immediately after.

you catch him off guard the first time you do it.

the first time you kiss suguru’s knuckles, he falters.

it’s the way that you do it. naturally & effortlessly, as if it’s like second nature, that causes suguru to stop in his tracks and dedicate all of his attention to you.

his mesmerizing gaze is directed at you, molten gold eyes inquisitive. irrevocably fond.

he attentively watches as you softly grab his large warm hand in your small cold one. his hands are slightly rough yet supple due to his religious use of the honey-almond handcream you bought him earlier in the week.

he notices, rather than intertwining your fingers with his own and holding them, you smoothly bring his hand up to your face, wrapping your digits loosely around the perimeter of his long slender fingers.

your thumb gingerly caresses his ring finger (the one that holds a devout vow of eternal love), your featherlight touch raising wonderful shivers across his body. with the utmost care, you delicately, as if he’s made out of precious china, brush your supple glossed lips against his fingers, relishing in the coolness of his promise ring that encases both his aquamarine birthstone & your own.

your low-lidded enamored eyes never leave his affectionately curious ones — both of you preciously holding the other ones gaze. eyes locked in a staring contest of love.

utterly content with his undivided attention, you gently press a soft kiss to his knuckles.

a sign of affection.

an act, a promise, of complete & utter devotion.

his pierced eyebrow raises slightly due to the suaveness of your actions. he tries to gather his bearings, his brain fuzzy with your actions — did you actually just do that?

suguru’s amber eyes widen significantly, soft black eyelashes fluttering like raven wings against the tan of his cheek that’s blushed with a hue of raspberry red. mouth slightly ajar in surprise, his silver lip ring glints like starlight in the sunset daze of the evening, while his pierced tongue is pressed against his own cheek to stop himself from becoming a bumbling, stuttering mess.

if he speaks — he wholeheartedly believes all that’ll tumble out of his lips will be unabashedly fervent divulgances of: “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

adoration blooms out of his ribcage like a meadow of daffodils, sweetness enveloping around his heart, soft ivory petals and sage green tendrils wrapping themselves delicately over his bones. he reckons that if you couldn’t hear his heartbeat hammering out of his chest before, you definitely can now.

it’s almost as if his brain is in clouds of cotton candy, his mind in a sweet haze of shock, love, & affection. he finds himself whispering airily, “why’d you do that?”

tenderly stroking away silky strands of ink-black hair that wisp around his ethereal face, the fond smile you grace him with is saccharine sweet, “i felt like it.”

unbelievably charmed, he can’t help the giggle that spills its way out through his mouth like honey, a syrupy-sweet sounding little thing. his shaky fingers cover his rosy lips slightly as he laughs bashfully. he’s a bit shy because of it, but you don’t think a sound has ever been so melodious to your ears. you’d get down on one knee to kiss his knuckles reverently as many times as he wants just to hear his laughter over and over and over again.

the way you see it, it’s as if you were put on this earth to devote yourself to him.

like a loyal knight kisses the ring on the hand of their king with the utmost veneration, you’d do the same. without question, worshipping the ground whereupon he stands like a faithful follower would do to a cult leader. you figure in all of the other multiverses, you’re ultimately doing the same thing as what you’re doing in this one: loving him — devoutly. earnestly. passionately.

if the look of ardent rapture on your face is anything to go by, suguru might faint with the rush of pure love & endearment that flows like nectar throughout his veins.

he feels his blush bloom over his warm face which rushes towards the tips of his pierced ears, a clear sign of you flustering him.

wanting to gain back some semblance of control of the situation, he puts on a poker face, a gentleness in his eyes & a fondness in his smile still shining through. his black-nail polished thumb grazes your soft wind-chilled cheek. a beacon of warmth. a caress of admiration accompanied with a well-maintained façade of smoothness. a comforting touch for the both of you.

“well, aren’t you just so sweet.” suguru can’t help the coo that escapes his cherry red lips when you look up at him with your precious doe eyes, “my pretty little baby.”

he softly pinches your cheek, admiring the soft plush. he cradles your cheek with the same hand, & carefully smoothes down your hair that’s been strewn around a bit by the evening wind with the other. suguru pats your head in a nurturing manner in the process, another fond coo escaping him when he sees you preen at the attention he gives you, affectionately watching you revel in the flattering treatment.

your eyes widen with joy, always keening with any praise he showers you with. “i’d like to think so! now come on sugu, your pretty little baby has a lil surprise for you!” you playfully wink at him, your smile beaming like sunshine.

your warm eyes map his stunning features reverently, memorizing his elegant visage. drinking in his otherworldly beauty. as if you could never get enough.

while you openly admire him, suguru does the same to you. he doesn’t think that he’s ever been this enamored by a human being before. you’re the center of his universe, and he can’t imagine his life without you. all he can see in this moment is: you. his intense gaze holds yours as he captures both of your cheeks in his warm gentle hands, enveloping himself in your space. the perfume he bought you for your birthday invades his senses, clouding his mind in a welcomed haze.

all he can think of at the moment is: you. you. you.

all he can repeat in his mind is: mine. mine. mine.

his eyes gleam with a newfound sense of desire, wanting to show you exactly what you mean to him. what you do to him.

his golden eyes that are now an onyx, dilated with desire, flit to your mouth. his thumb outlines your pretty lips that are begging to be devoured by his own. his right hand moves to cradle the back of your head, tilting your face up so he can comfortably take control. long, slender fingers splay across your hair, bringing you closer to him, slightly tugging the strands to hear and feel you gasp against his mouth. he presses his left hand against the small of your back, coaxing you further into his body, fusing you both together. not wanting to be even a millimeter apart. he just can’t get enough of you.

it’s like a magnetic gravitational pull when he presses a soft, sensual kiss against your glossy lips. the cold metal ball in his pierced tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth, and he can’t help but moan softly into you, relishing in your warmth.

he prays to the stars above, hoping that he can convey his sincere love, desire, & admiration for you like this. he breathes life into you and you do the same to him. kissing you with such vigor & passion, he feels like melding your lips & souls together wouldn’t be enough. he burns with a hunger to become one with you. he pleads to the universe that the intensity of his desire and yearning is relayed to you — that you crave it, crave him as much as he craves you.

with the way he’s ravenously kissing you, and how you’re excitedly kissing him back, it seems like you certainly received the message.

suguru thinks it’s a little bit funny, but very much endearing, when you run around the living room like a bumbling fawn.

you zig-zag around the counter, making sure you pick up the purse that suguru got for you on your previous anniversary, an acrylic charm of your favorite anime character clinking against the metal fastenings. (another gift that suguru got you, begrudgingly he might admit, because who the hell is that toji fushiguro guy anyways…)

you double check that all the contents you need are inside: phone, charger, lip gloss, mini perfume, credit cards — AH! you run back to your room like a panther, not wanting to forget the most important thing you need for tonight!

he can’t help himself but laugh at your frazzled antics. “baby, you can calm down! we’re going on a picnic, it’s almost impossible for us to be late!” suguru admires your punctuality, he thinks it’s sweet how you never want to keep him waiting.

“FORGOT SOMETHING, I ALMOST DIED.” you rush back to him, big goofy smile on your face.

“baby… you’re heaving.” suguru covers his mouth, trying not to giggle out loud at how out of breath you are just by running a few feet. you’re so fucking cute.

“damn…” you huff out, hands on your knees, trying to get a deep breath in. “don’t call me out like that.”

he can’t help the laugh that bellows out of him, “sorry angel, now let’s go!” he places his large hands against your back, ushering you out the door quickly, “you still haven’t told me where we’re going.”

walking you towards his black mercedes, he opens the passenger side for you. with both hands on your hips, you remind him that, “it’s a SURPISE!”

after around 45 minutes of both of you jamming out to your playlist in the car, poking his cheek while childishly asking “are we there yet?” just to annoy him for fun, and ultimately being a proper passenger princess who tells him to “just trust me!” when he asks where you two are going, you both arrive to your destination.

and the sight that he sees, enthralls him. he whistles, beguiled by the view. from here, he can see how pretty and bright the stars are, it almost looks like they’re twinkling a “hello!” at the both of you. suguru thinks to himself, a picnic here at night? he’s unbelievably mesmerized at how your brain works sometimes.

he turns to face you, watching how engrossed you are in your phone, tapping away incessantly. wanting your full attention, his fingers grab your chin gently to force you to look him. he jokingly purrs, “if you took me here to kill me, i’ll have you know… sitting on my face would be much easier. much more preferred.”

you raise your eyebrow questioningly.

“because… it’s dark and we’re in random clearing.”

you stare at him blankly. “okay, you’ve hung out with me waaaay too much because i literally said that pick-up line to you last week and now you’re blatantly stealing it… like a THIEF. and also? you drove us here. who the hell is gonna drive me back if you’re dead?”

his brows furrow and he pouts, annoyed that you didn’t fall into his arms and blush because of his (your) raunchy words. he turns away from you and opens his door to leave, brattily huffing out a, “hmph. shut up, dumbass.” with his head held up high in the air, he struts away pompously to the trunk, opening and closing it loudly. a picnic basket with food you both made together in one hand, and a soft quilt of constellations made by haibara & nanami for suguru’s previous birthday in the other.

how fitting.

you loudly snicker to yourself while getting out of the car, amused by your boyfriend’s spoiled antics. while suguru is front of you admiring the view and trying to find a spot to set up, you admire the view in front of you. whistling out a, “damn…” suguru scoffs at your flirty behavior and gives you the finger. you send an air kiss back, and he playfully swats it away.

when he turns away again, you smile to yourself dreamily. taking out your phone, you click a quick candid of him against the night sky, admiring at how he looks like a painting.

the cream of his sweater and the contrast of his cascading ink-black hair entrances you, the silver hairpin you got him during a couple’s trip to kyoto in the top of his bun. the dangling deep violet amethyst gem glints in the moonlight, making him look even prettier. he turns his head to the left, from here you can’t see his eyebrow piercing or his lip piercing since they’re both on the right side of his face, but you do see his eyebrow slit — a scar which you’ve softly traced over many times. his side profile allures you effortlessly, the angular bridge of his nose and the soft cupid’s bow of his lip offering up a beautiful contrast that is suguru: graceful yet strong.

shaking your head slightly, you break out of your trance.

you go back to the task at hand, opening your notes app and ticking off the word at the top of your list.

stargazing. ✔️

you remember suguru mentioned it in passing one day when you were both in the beginning stages of your relationship. it was on his date bucket-list ever since he could remember, and of course you wanted to be the one who would take him!

you guide him over to a little meadow overlooking the city. surrounding you both are beautiful moonflowers, their sweetness enveloping your sinuses. the air is cool and crisp, and in the distance you hear the faint chirps & buzzing of hummingbirds along with the faint caws of ravens. you’re proud of yourself that you were able to find a place this picturesque. (even to this day, you still have an urge to impress suguru in any way that you can.)

both of you sit on the quilt suguru sets down, the homemade cloth providing an extra layer of cushioning that you feel atop the softness of the grass.

you’re upon the hill clearing, close enough to the city that you can comfortably drive back while still seeing a few citylights from where you are, but far away enough that the light pollution wouldn’t interfere with the date you had planned.

“it’s pretty.” suguru glances at the view, praising you while taking out the tonkatsu sandwiches, pasta salad, & chocolate covered strawberries from your picnic wicker-basket. you pick up a bag of chips and start munching on it while he lays down on his back propped up on his elbows, opening up a banana milk to sip on.

“i’m glad you like it,” your words are muffled in between loud crunches and fast chewing, “i was worried we’d be attacked by a mountain lion or a swarm of bees or some shit.” you say honestly.

he blinks. “i wasn’t worried about that. but i am now.” he takes another sip of his banana milk in case it’s his last.

he sits up and picks up the tonkatsu sandwich, handing you the bigger half. “but seriously, how’d you find this place?”

you take the smaller half from his grasp instead, switching with him. taking a bite, you hum happily. suguru is such a good cook. he smiles at you fondly and you answer him, “i was searching up good places to look at the stars. out of all the pictures and reviews, this was the prettiest one.”

you look up at him and swear that you see an actual twinkle in his eyes.

“stargazing?” he pushes his bangs back behind his ear, leaning into your face. loudly repeating, “STARGAZING???” nose pressed against yours, an excitedly manic look in his eyes.

he throws his head back and waves his arms in the air, lamenting, “i should’ve bought a fucking telescope!”

he directs his gaze back towards you, pointing his finger at you accusingly while demanding, “we are coming here again in the future, okay? i’ll bring all of my astronomy gear: a telescope, binoculars, a constellation book, and oooooh! maybe i’ll also bring…” you unintentionally tune him out, looking at him adoringly with stars in your eyes.

this is what you wanted to see.

if you’re being honest with yourself, the best thing to experience in your life is getting to see suguru act genuinely excited. his eagerness to discover new things is infectious, and the man before you is the real suguru: dorky, eclectic, passionate.

the graceful, poised, & elegant man you see when he meets new people and the air of sultriness & suaveness he has when he takes you on fancy dates are utterly enchanting & beguiling, but you think that suguru you see before you now — the excitable nerd, is the most beautiful.

he flicks your forehead, breaking you out of your reverie. “have you been listening to a word i’ve been saying?” he scolds you while pinching your cheek extra hard.

“yeah, you want a telescope so you can look at the stars. also, you look really pretty… the stars ain’t got nothin’ on you.” you rest your chin in your hand, smirking at him, reveling in the blush that paints his cheeks. it was just the cold wind!, he’d tell you later while playfully smacking you upside the head.

you continue, “plus, it’s really hot when you’re all stern and tellin’ me off. what’s my incentive to listen to every word you say if i can get you scoldin’ me instead?” you tilt your head against your hand, grin wide, teeth bared. the masochist in you wants him to scold you even further.

he crosses his arms at you, muscles bulging out of his cream cableknit sweater. your eyes drink up the adonis right in front of you, mentally undressing him. “instead of hitting on me, how about i explain all of the constellations to you in extreme detail?” he purrs to you while biting his lip. he flips his hair over his shoulder, sultrily looking at you. you see right through him of course, knowing that he’s appeasing to your attraction to him just so he can ramble about ursa major, ursa minor, & the big dipper.

frankly. it works.

he holds his hand out to you. a truce.

you shrug. “if you do it like a hot stern professor, then sure.” you both shake on it.

he rolls his eyes playfully, trying to stop the smile that threatens to creep up on his face. “ugh. fine. be quiet and come over here.” he picks you up underneath your thighs and puts you in between his legs. your back pressed against his warm, sturdy chest. he kisses you on the head, appreciative of your indulgence of him.

you giggle cutely and move yourself down, laying your head in his lap while he softly plays with your hair. his lovesick gaze, fond smile, & warm thighs envelope your body, filling your senses with suguru. he leans down and presses a soft kiss against your forehead, an addicting contrast of his cold lip ring & warm soft lips electrifying your skin.

he pops a single chocolate-covered strawberry in your mouth, and you playfully nip his finger. he traces your lips softly and starts playfully lecturing you about the constellations that grace the night sky.

he excitedly points at a cluster of three bright stars, “and that is orion’s belt!”

you point at a bright star in the night sky a few lightyears away from it, grin unbelievably wide.

“i think you might be missing one, babe. and you call yourself the modern-day galileo. heh.” you playfully tease him.

suguru rolls his eyes, “okay first of all, i have never called myself that. second of all — excuse me?” his scoff is slightly haughty, & he can’t help the indignant laugh that escapes out of him. “alright, since you know so much — enlighten me then, what’s that one called?”

“hmm… i believe it’s sugurugeto-020390.”

suguru’s eyes widen ridiculously like flying saucers.

“what?”

you push yourself out of his grasp to pull out a certificate from your purse and hand it to him. you sit next to him cross-legged, gauging his reaction.

“trust me, i wish i could get a better name for it, but it turns out there’s a lot of suguru geto’s in the world.”

pausing for a moment, you want to make sure that your boyfriend knows that he’s the only suguru geto on your mind.

giving him bedroom eyes, you purr, “none like you of course.”

he blinks. “what?”

your face falls comically, and you pout, “that bright star in the sky is yours.” you point at it haphazardly. “you’re the light of my life, you illuminate my life, you’re the sole star and center of my universe, blah blah blah… so i figured… ya know…!” you gesticulate wildly, and in the moonlight suguru can see the slight blush on your cheeks. your eyes looking everywhere else but his own.

you’re shy.

he can feel the sinus pressure building up against his nose and the tears glaze over his eyes.

you scratch the back of your head, trying to save face. you quickly backtrack, “i know it’s a bit cheesy and honestly, technically, this was probably a scam, but i figured it was the thought that counts and–”

“shut up.”

you look up at him in a state of shock, “HAH???”

he grabs your cheeks, his silver rings cool against your face, and smashes his lips against your own, teeth slightly knocking against yours. in his excitement, he pushes you down and straddles you, pinning you down to the grass — his body a comforting weight on top of you. he kisses you breathlessly, moaning loudly in your mouth. you can both taste the fruitiness of the strawberry on each others tongues, your own being pressed softly against his piercing. you pull away softly, needing to take a breath.

and the sight above you is one you don’t think you’ll ever want to forget.

suguru’s seductive low-lidded gaze is locked on you, parts of his bangs wisped across his face from the momentum of pouncing on you. he’s breathing heavily, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat hammering against yours, his nipple piercings slightly poking into your chest. a rosy blush spreads itself on his cheeks like a strawberry jam, and you don’t think any view could compare to the one you’re blessed to see now.

his lips are red and glossy, aching to kiss you again. you nod softly, begging him to continue. he slots his lips back with your own, tracing your bottom lip with his tongue before he bites down sensually, groaning loudly when he hears you whimper. he curls an arm underneath your body while kissing you passionately, bringing you closer to him, enveloping you into his space. all you can think about in this moment is: suguru. suguru. suguru.

pulling away once more, and peering deep into his amber orbs, you think that his eyes carry the most beautiful stars. a milky way of ochre and obsidian.

never casting your fond gaze aside, you intertwine your hand with his, bringing it to your lips, kissing each knuckle fervently.

his alluring gaze follows your devoted actions. butterflies brush their wings together inside his stomach, the flutter erupting throughout his whole entire being. he thinks that in the moonlight, underneath the canopy of stars that…

you are the most brightest.

the most beautiful.

the most meaningful.

“honey! i’m hoooooooome!”

you feel unbelievably ecstatic that you can finally get to see your dear boyfriend after two weeks of being apart!

you already have the whole day planned out, perhaps you two can get takeout from your favorite local restaurant and watch anime together! you giggle happily to yourself while thinking about how you both can snuggle and have a cozy day in.

you take your shoes, coat, & purse off by yourself, wondering if suguru is out. usually by the time you’re at the door, suguru is already there welcoming you back with a massive kiss and a “missed you baby.” softly whispered in your ear, especially if you go on a long trip…

hmm, that’s a bit odd.

now that you’re looking around…

the apartment is in complete disarray.

it looks like a tornado blew through the whole place.

you shuffle in further… and dirty dishes are piled in the sink, overflowing dangerously. suguru’s clothes, random knick knacks, and pillows are strewn about as if he threw them all in a fit of rage. crumbs litter the carpet and you see what looks to be dirt tracks on the floorboards. the laundry is stacked high and the air is stuffy, it seems like no windows were opened in the time that you were away.

worriedly, you run into your shared bedroom.

suguru is there, thank god safe & sound, but what you see breaks your heart.

he’s laid face down, the left side of his cheek smooshed into the pillow, black tear tracks staining the fabric… he must’ve cried on a day when he went out? the bedroom is filled with dirty clothes on the floor, and you’re pained to smell the stench of cigarettes in the air. it’s light… maybe he only smoked one… but the fact that he felt the need to smoke at all, shattered your soul.

especially considering he quit ages ago when he started dating you.

you walk towards him lightly, not wanting to scare him off. his eyes are open and he looks at you… but he’s not really looking at you.

“you alright there, precious?” you softly whisper.

a perfunctory question. you know he’s not. he knows he’s not. but you know he’s in no state to answer any questions that you have.

“mhm.” he hums quietly. lethargic, not even having the willpower to answer with anything but a light rasp.

you brush back his bangs, and he shudders. his hair is greasy, oil-black hair clumping together in some places, matted in others. his lips are slightly chapped, a bit bloodied no doubt from his habit of biting his lip when he’s anxious. his fingernails are no stranger to the same action, stubbed and jagged down to the nailbed, his black nail polish chipped. bright amber eyes which often have a gentle look in them have turned into a dull ochre, obsidian pupils overtaking his irises.

they’re still gentle because he’s looking at you… but if you’re being honest with yourself, his eyes remind you a bit of a black hole right now.

vacant of light.

you press a soft kiss against his forehead and leave the room momentarily, thinking to yourself if anything can be done about this situation.

you decide to shoot satoru a quick text, seeing if he can help you out a bit with what you want to do.

you breathe out a sigh of relief, a small smile gracing your face. you can always count on satoru. the man may be silly and eclectic, but at the core of his being, he’s someone who will always take care of and look out for his friends. he’s the type of person to drop anything to help those that he loves and adores.

(sometimes you think that satoru really was an angel put onto earth.) (but then you think that he was probably cast out of heaven for being a little shit.) (regardless, you still fucking love him for it.)

you walk back into the room, and lay your head against your pillow that is next to suguru’s. (it smells like him… he must’ve hugged it while you were away.)

cradling his cheek, you quietly say, “satoru’s also back from his business trip babe, he’ll be coming in about 10 minutes. how about you get a bit of sunshine with him, hmm?” he blinks slowly, nodding softly.

you hold his hand to help him up out from the bed, but he shoos you away, admonishing you slightly, “i can do it myself.”

you nod and leave him to it, mentally preparing yourself for the behemoth cleaning task ahead when he leaves.

suguru pads slowly into the bathroom and puts his hair up in a high ponytail with a hairtie he stole from you, not wanting to deal with it. he washes his face and gets a wet rag to pat down his body and underarms, not having the energy to shower. putting on a random black sweatshirt, he douses himself in your favorite cologne of his. he puts on your strawberry lip balm while popping a piece of mint gum in his mouth. with a tired sigh, he exits the bathroom, dragging his feet to where you are at the door.

he kisses your temple gently. you plant a soft kiss against his knuckles. you think your eyes deceive you when you see a semblance of a twinkle in his eyes. “love you baby. i’ll bring you back somethin’.” he rasps out softly.

even in his darkest times, even when his mind is playing tricks on him, he’s still thinking of you. wanting to take care of you. desiring to show his affections towards you in any way that he can.

you simply want to return the favor.

satoru arrives, wearing a crisp white button up and black tinted glasses, his snowy white hair shining like starlight thanks to the sunbeams that hit him. he hugs suguru gently, placing a soft kiss against his temples. suguru, dressed in all black just nods his head lightly at him. he’s not really interested in going out but knows that you two will force him regardless, reminding him that getting sunshine and looking at different scenery is important.

as they get into the car and back out of the driveway, suguru waves lightly at you, eyes tired yet gentle. satoru winks at you, proud & thankful that suguru has someone that cares so deeply for his mental, emotional, and physical wellbeing.

waving them both a goodbye, you go back inside and put on your cleaning playlist, ready to get started.

the first thing you do is open up the blinds and windows, wanting to air out the stuffiness that had built up over the past two weeks. considering the fact that suguru got a tinge paler and his undereyes looked sunken, you don’t think he got even a single beam of sunshine or any semblance of fresh air in the time that you were away.

padding over to the kitchen, you begin by doing the dishes. wearing your matching baby blue dishgloves, you get to work. it seems like suguru got anxious by seeing all the dishes piled up and started using some paper plates, which would explain the overflowing trash as well. the dishes are caked with food, but soften a bit by dousing them in water along with spritzing a powerwash grease-lifting spray. you sigh happily, glad that this will make it easier. after washing, drying, and putting away the dishes, you turn your attention to the kitchen surfaces.

you wipe down the counter and dining table in circular motions with a lemon-verbena spray, disposing of any old particles of food and random dust that lay upon the surfaces. already in your cleaning mode, you start to feel a little bit more energized.

opening up the refrigerator, you see that it’s been practically untouched. unfortunately, you gag when you smell rotting veggies and fruits, promptly rushing to your kitchen cabinet to get your trash bag to toss any old food away. you mentally remind yourself to get groceries in the morning, maybe if suguru is feeling a bit better after today you both can go together!

walking into the living room, you get your cleaning towel to beat the dust out of all the furniture. usually you & suguru both start with the bedrooms, but this time you figure you’d start with the living room as it’s in a bit of a better shape than the bedroom.

after you finish beating the living hell out of your cushions, you get to swiffering, mopping, and vacuuming — humming and singing loudly to suguru’s favorite songs on your shared cleaning playlist.

you go into the bedroom and start by gathering all of the clothes on the floor and the ones in the hamper to put inside the washing machine. you look around and do the same with the bedsheets and pillow cases, rubbing the eyeliner out of suguru’s pillowcase with some makeup remover first.

cleaning out all of the drawers, you make sure to throw away any random trash and only keep what’s necessary. clutter bothers both you and suguru, so you do your best to try and minimize that. you pick up empty bottles off the nightstand and throw them away. at least he drank a bit of water.

turning your attention to your bookcase, you wipe down the multitude of pictures of you & suguru that he put in frames.

there’s a few of both of you smiling after going on cute dates — suguru’s grin unbelievably wide while flipping off the camera and holding you close to his chest as you laugh loudly. there’s ones of you gazing at him adoringly, your love for him seeping out of the picture. there’s others of him looking at you — a soft fondness in his eyes, an even softer smile gracing his lips, his affectionate gaze tuning out anyone and anything else that isn’t you. both framed and pinned to the wall are multiple candids you two took of one another when the other wasn’t looking or paying attention, bursts of love immortalized in random moments of time.

you tell yourself that the sniffle you do is just because of the dust.

clearing your throat slightly, you look around proudly. you’re done!

you spray each room with a cotton spray, inhaling the fresh linen scent happily. you light up a teakwood candle that suguru bought a few weeks ago in the living room and put a sandalwood diffuser in the bathroom, freshening up the place. you take a well-deserved shower, feeling properly clean and accomplished.

by the time you’re done, it’s around 5:30 P.M in the evening and satoru texts you that they’re on their way and will be back home in approximately 30 minutes.

you get a can of sprite, his preferred soda, out from the fridge and put it on the counter. you decide to place an order for takeout from suguru’s favorite local spot, one that sells cold zaru soba noodles, his favorite food. you place another order at his favorite bakery for matcha crepes, his most loved dessert. the zaru soba will come within an hour and a half, but the dessert will come sooner so you also order a flower delivery too — a cute little surprise which will come within the same amount of time as the crepes.

you figure that you’ll also do the same for satoru, a little thank-you present for when he comes back to his own apartment. you order a bouquet of narcissus & holly for him, internally hoping that he likes it. you also order all of his favorite desserts from his favorite bakery! knowing that he will happily fill himself up on raspberry macarons, strawberry cake, vanilla mochi, chocolate donuts, & zunda cream kikufuku to his heart’s desire.

walking back into the bathroom, you get the most important part of your night started.

suguru finds his heart a bit lighter when he comes back to your shared home. he didn’t want to admit it to satoru… but he actually had a fun time eating, shopping, and listening to his hilarious stories about his shitty business trip. he’d be lying though if he said that he wasn’t most excited to see you after a long, eventful day.

in his hand are a bunch of shopping bags from stores that satoru dragged him to — clothes from your favorite stores, accessories & bags that you most wear, shoes that you need, books & knick knacks that you like — all for you. he bought a few for himself of course, but he mainly wanted to spoil you. he can’t help the small smile that creeps up on his face when he thinks about how excited you’ll be to see the gifts he got you.

thinking back on it, the guilt and shame he felt in his heart when you first saw him earlier today ate him up. he didn’t even know why he was feeling the way he was feeling so strongly. it was coincidence that it coincided with your trip, and he made sure that he would sound fun and happy over text as to not worry you. it wasn’t until a few days from when you were actually set to arrive that he didn’t even have the energy to talk or text you.

hell, he didn’t even have the energy to keep the apartment tidy or keep himself in check either. another pang of guilt hits him like a freight truck. he concludes that he’ll give you a spa day so he can clean everything up, not wanting you to worry about the mess he made.

he knows from the bottom of his heart that you’d never judge him or make him feel small for feeling the way he felt, he just feels so bad that he couldn’t even muster up the energy to greet you the way you deserved to be greeted. to kiss you. to hug you. to have a delicious dinner together and snuggle with you.

but no. after a long trip you had to come home and be worried for him. have the apartment be in disarray, have to see him be in disarray. fuck, you were worried enough to call up satoru.

he swears to himself that he’s gonna make it up to you. he swears that–

oh?

what?

suguru’s eyes widen, hands weakly dropping his shopping bags on the floor.

the entire apartment, top to bottom, is spotless.

dishes done and put away. dining table clean. living room tidy. is that… a bouquet of daffodils, his birth flower, on the counter? he also sees the bag from his favorite bakery right next to it too…

he walks around, astonished, at how you’ve made the apartment look brand new.

he reaches the bedroom and sees that the bed is made. his clothes have been clean, dried, and put up in hangers inside his closet. the nightstand, dresser, and bookcase all spotless and wiped free of dust.

a fresh smell envelopes his sinuses. he swallows the lump in his throat. did you smell the single cigarette he smoked? it seems like you aired out the whole apartment. in front of him is a beautiful sunset that waves at him from outside. a sunray beam kisses his cheeks. suguru blinks and feels something wet trailing down his face… it tastes salty on his lips. but feels so warm and sweet.

“suguru?” your angelic voice calls to him.

he turns around and sees you. fresh and clean, a beacon of warmth and illumination. a light blush dusting your cheeks no doubt from all of the hard work you’ve done.

“i ran you a bath. you up for it?” you tilt your head cutely at him, a silent plea in your eyes for him to agree.

feeling like his voice will betray him if he speaks, he nods softly. grabbing his hand, you take him to your shared bathroom, also totally spotless. your hands are soft and small in his, warm for once, because of you taking a hot shower and checking the temperature of the water for suguru’s bath. a sandalwood scent envelopes his nose, no doubt from the diffuser you put inside. he sees the romantic candles and rose petals around the bathtub and he can’t help the smile that overtakes his face.

“for me?” he rasps, a teasing tilt to his voice.

“always. everything and anything i do will always be for you.” you say it seriously. genuinely.

to you, it’s a vow. an oath.

his eyes widen slightly, but he closes them momentarily, not wanting any more tears to spill. he crinkles his eyes and smiles at you softly.

“you joining me?” he undresses, taking off his sweatshirt and t-shirt. showcasing his tan skin, toned abs, & muscles. his nipple piercings & belly button piercing are on full display and he giggles lightly as you ogle at his body, watching your eyes trace his numerous tattoos & piercings, absolutely mesmerized.

“maybe next time,” you smirk, a playful twinkle in your eyes. “figured i could do a little pamper session, is that alright with you?” you ask him caringly, wanting to make sure that he’s comfortable with it first & foremost.

he fears that if he speaks any louder than a whisper, the love that overcomes him will drown his airways. he rasps out a small, “yeah.”

always. anything and everything you do will always be right for me.

he gets into the bath and you try to not let your eyes trail down, instead focusing your gaze on his dragon tattoo that encompasses his entire back along with the mythological japanese creatures that trail up his arms and ribcage like tapestry. you see one of your favorites, a black and white beta fish upon his ribs, submerged underneath the water he’s in.

from this angle, you can also see your name that he tattooed behind his ear. smiling to yourself, you sit behind him, ready to begin the pamper session.

his sloshes the rose petals around with his fingers. the water is warm, is his first thought. i wish you were in here with me, is his second.

your fingers stroke his hair softly, lulling him into a false sense of security, and then you get to work, vigorously rubbing in his lavender shampoo. he can’t help the laugh that escapes him. for some reason anytime you two would take baths or take showers together, you would always wash his scalp aggressively. “this is how i wash my hair sugu! what’s a little run through gonna do? we gotta keep clean!” did clean mean damn near ripping out his hair follicles? possibly.

he’d never stop you or scold you however, he thinks it’s hilarious and an endearing trait of yours. when he washes your hair he makes sure to be as soft and careful as possible, almost lulling you to sleep. when you wash his hair however, it’s like you’re turbowashing a pickup truck. he figures this time he’ll give you a pass (he always does) considering that he doesn’t think he’s washed his hair in around a week and a half.

“gonna rinse now, okay?” he hums quietly, closing his eyes.

this almost feels like a purification process to him.

you lather shampoo in his hair once again wanting to do a double cleanse, this time a bit more softly. you massage his scalp, and he tips his head back. you start from the crown of his head, working in circular motions, using your fingertips. then you go to the roots of his hair, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering, pressing and lathering.

you push his head forward slightly so you can clean the back of his head too, massaging the pressure points in his scalp. you were always a good masseuse, therefore a deep sigh escapes him, tension leaving his body by the second. (this might be the first time in two weeks where he’s been able to breathe comfortably.) you run your fingers throughout the clean strands of his hair, humming a little tune to yourself.

“they called me.” your hands still for second, but resume back to carefully twisting the water out his silky black hair. you stay quiet, knowing that when suguru speaks he prefers to get it all out there first.

“must’ve been like, what, two days after you left?” a humorless laugh escapes him. “they always know when to fuck up my mood. i swear.”

he sighs tiredly. “they went on a whole spiel about how i need to come back home and find a ‘real job’ as a hotshot lawyer or some fancy businessman, as if i don’t run my own tattoo parlor. as if i’m not also a real fucking businessman. like, do they think i don’t make any money? that i can’t comfortably take care of us both?” he rolls his eyes, getting annoyed again just thinking about how long the same repeated conversation had gone on.

suguru’s family is relatively well-off. he’s genuinely thankful that both him & satoru never had to worry about how to put food on the table or be worried about not being able to spoil the people that they loved.

it’s just that his parents were angry that their picture-perfect little boy wanted to spread his wings… see a world that had more to offer than quiet dinner table meals filled with tension and pointed jabs at one another guised as “caring advice.”

their image of suguru started to get distorted when he first showed up on their doorstep with his gauges. an act of rebellion. he could’ve worn small simple diamond studs but he wanted to make an impression: i’m my own person. even as a 13 year old boy, i can make this decision on my own. he remembers the way his father said he looked foolish. how his mother held her hand over her heart, in shock that her little baby boy had tainted himself in such a manner. what would others say?

suguru remembers looking in the mirror after the whole fiasco & thinking: god… they’d say i look so fucking cool.

then it started with sneaking out to go on late night drives with satoru, shoko, nanami, & haibara. they’d jam out to random songs on the radio, get slurpees & snacks, and sit in satoru’s car just talking about life and their future for hours. suguru still remembers the way his bangs wisped across his face, the crisp night air purifying his soul, the stars in the sky illuminating the landscape. the world seemed bigger those days and the gang were enjoying their teenage years. enjoying their youth.

he remembers coming home, his father waiting for him on the couch, pointing to the seat next to him, forcing suguru to sit down. his father’s arms crossed, black turtleneck making his muscles bulge slightly out of his sweater, his specs on the bridge of his nose making him look so serious. suguru found it easy to make eye contact with everyone in the world, but with his father he couldn’t help but look away sometimes… so he redirected his gaze to the tiny delicate beauty mark near his fathers right eye. a small little thing that made his father look a bit more… prettier. nicer. less daunting.

“where were you?” the timbre of his father’s voice rattled his bones. he muttered those three words quietly, but it still shattered suguru’s eardrums regardless.

“out. with my friends.”

he scoffs. “some friends they are.” a deep resounding ring of utter disappointment comes from his father’s words.

suguru sneers at the man, pissed that he would even think to disrespect suguru’s choice of friends like that. “yeah, they’re the best.” not an ounce of sarcasm lacing his words. his own mood dampened, nevertheless.

he recalls stomping all the way upstairs and slamming the door with all his might. sitting on his bed and resting his head against the window pane, eyes looking up at the same stars he saw when hanging out with his friends.

the stars seemed so far away from suguru’s room.

the world looked so big. suguru felt so small.

then one day, months later, suguru kissed a pretty boy. he can’t quite remember his name anymore, just that his lips were soft and his eyes were kind. suguru’s parents found out. his dad was surprisingly fine with it… he just assumed it was a phase, he went through the same thing as his son did when he was his age. his mother however… she just acted like it never happened the next morning. as if it wasn’t just a part of who he is.

his parents thought he was rebelling for the sake of rebellion. in actuality, it was suguru’s true self coming out. he was just getting more comfortable in his own skin. he was tired of being the picture perfect beauty who always was demanded of being polite, poised, & graceful. it was always too easy for him to put on a fake smile and manipulate others into doing what he wanted for the sake of his family’s reputation, it’s what he was taught. being at that house, it felt like he was kept on a tight leash, restricted from living his life. he felt caged like a bird…

but he just wanted to be free.

all he wanted was to just truly be himself in this world.

a kiss against his scalp breaks him out of his reverie.

right… he was here with you. he doesn’t have to spiral or worry anymore. you’re here. with him.

you’re here, you’re here, you’re here.

he shudders softly, taking your hand, holding it tight within his grasp. anger laces his next words, “they also said it’s time i get into a ‘real relationship’. whatever the fuck that means.”

you giggle. you know that his parents aren’t too fond of you. you’re not exactly of the same… class or status as them. at least that’s what suguru’s mother told him.

he huffs out a single dry laugh, “i’m glad you’re giggling about it because i nearly popped a fucking blood vessel screaming into my phone when they said that shit.”

“my protector.” you coo to him.

a light blush tinges his cheeks. always.

he presses a kiss against your palm. “i think it just made me… spiral a bit, y’know? reminded me of when i was kid and they made every little decision for me. i mean i’m a fucking adult now — i can decide what i do, who i wanna be, and who i want to be with.”

so when he got that phone-call from them on that day he was supposed to go to some rock concert… he did the one thing he promised himself he’d never do again. he lit a cigarette, and cried his eyes out into his pillow.

while sobbing, he remembered when he was in his early twenties and he’d sleep around with anyone and everyone, smoke blunts & cigarettes, go bar-hopping… do everything the picture-perfect pretty boy would never be allowed to do under his parents roof. his family just made him so miserable that he would do anything to not think of them.

he heard your voice in his head, reminding him, that instead of continuing on that self-destructive streak, he got his shit together. art & drawing was always his safe haven, so he found himself an apprenticeship at a tattoo parlor, getting a job as a piercer and ultimately working his way up to being a tattooist. he owns his own place now — all his hard work & effort paid off.

his mind travels back to you. his true love.

ever since the moment he met you, he was mesmerized by your beauty, your personality, and your loving words & actions.

suguru’s heart and sobs only calmed down when he thought of you. his beloved. his angel. his reason to be. he hugged your pillow a bit tighter that night, imagining it was you.

“i’m proud of you, you know.” you say it so genuinely that it tugs on his heartstrings, making his heart skip a beat.

“you’ve been through a lot of shit with your parents, but at the end of the day, you chose to follow what your heart desired — not whatever they wanted. you’re successful in what you do and you made the right decision. it doesn’t matter what the hell they say, because they don’t know the effort and time it took you to get where you are.” you say it so passionately, that suguru believes every word that comes out of your mouth. his heart racing, thankful that somebody fucking understands him.

“you’re kind. you’re caring. you’re so unbelievably loving. you’re always looking out for others and helping anyone that needs it… you’re a good fucking person, suguru. i hope you know that and realize that. it doesn’t matter what anyone else says, you are good. what you do is good. who you are is good. it’s an honor to be able to love you and be with you. i hope you know that.”

for the first time in a while, suguru turns around and really looks at you. the way you bare your soul to him so effortlessly, the way you smile so sweetly at him, the way you make him feel like he’s your one true love.

“i’m so thankful for you. i love you… and i want to be with you, too. always.” his voice breaks a little, overcome with emotion.

suguru hugs you tightly, neither of you caring about the wetness on your clothes. suguru puts his entire spectrum of feelings towards you into the hug — an apology, a thank you, and a proclamation of love.

voice a bit shaky, he laughs, “sorry for getting you all wet. i know how much you hate drenched clothes.”

“you apologizing for getting me wet? now that’s a first.” you purr playfully, glad to see him in better spirits.

a loud laugh bellows out from suguru, deep within his gut. he kisses your lips preciously, and sits back down in the water, urging you to continue.

the mood now is far lighter. the air thick with a sweet steam.

you rinse his hair and gently put his lavender conditioner through his hair. massaging it in, running your fingers through his silky smooth strands. you put his hair up in a clip for a few minutes to let the product soak in. he washes it out himself while you start the shower, making sure you put in his favorite honey-almond bodywash. he gives you a silly yet oddly sultry show when he lathers himself and he promptly comes out, steaming and refreshed. you help him do his skincare routine, softly rubbing each and every product into his skin. he towels off and sits down, hairbrush in his hand, looking at you.

“here, let’s do this first.” you blow dry his hair, taking your time and allowing suguru to lull his head back onto your front, the soft black tresses of your beloved’s hair feeling much more revitalized in your fingers. you then brush his hair, gently, carefully. the entire time, you notice that suguru’s eyes are closed and he’s smiling to himself. you kiss him on the top of his head, and he turns to kiss you back. eyes closed, his lips puckered…

but just then, the doorbell rings.

“OOH! perfect timing!” you scurry off. you leave a pouting suguru who huffs out a little “hmph.” annoyed that whoever was at the door took a very well-deserved kiss away from him.

he patters softly to the kitchen where you’re setting out cold zaru soba noodles for him along with a can of sprite and matcha crepes. all of his favorites.

you hold a bouquet of flowers. daffodils.

“for you.” you curtsy, a mirthful twinkle in your eyes. he graciously accepts them from you, a shy smile and light flush across his cheeks.

“thank you.”

kissing his knuckles you whisper, “anything for you.”

for once in his whole entire life, suguru doesn’t think he can bear to look you in the eye. your adoration is so unbelievably intense, it feels like it’ll burn a hole inside his heart. does he deserve so much goodness in his life?

“you deserve more than what i can give you. i’ll spend my whole life making sure you realize that, suguru.” you say to him honestly. “if you’ll allow me of course.”

he kisses you on the lips softly, hoping that you can feel how thankful and lucky he is that he has you. “likewise.”

he clears his throat. “okay, c’mon. i’m starving. i wanna watch that stupid anime and shit talk that hot guy you like on screen while we snuggle.”

“he’s the best character, suguru!” you huff indignantly. clearly he can’t be talking about thee toji fushiguro???

“babe. he SUCKS.”

he knows you so well, he muses to himself.

he knows how your breath hitches after he nuzzles his lips against the curve of your neck, that the skin is sensitive there, but not as sensitive as your right ear. he knows that because of the way your knees buckle as he whispers soft romances to you, intense shivers overtaking your body. he makes sure that his arm is always wrapped tender yet firmly around your waist when that happens, trapping you against his unyielding body.

he knows what makes you tick. on the rare occasion that you allow your emotions to overcome you, he knows how to comfort you. he leaves you alone for a few moments so you’re able to gather your thoughts & assess your bearings, and then he invites you into his warm embrace. he lets you lay your head in his lap as he strokes your hair gingerly, easing your soul with both honest and kind words. adorning your face with soft kisses and even softer caresses. a cocoon of protection.

it seems like these days, however, he hasn’t had a proper grasp on you. you can’t hide a single thing from him, he knows that you would never willingly do so either.

it’s not like you want to anyways — not that you intend to, at least.

but it’s an aching feeling in his chest, nonetheless.

earlier in the week, you’d softly shut your bedroom door whenever you saw him, pretending as if you couldn’t see each other… as if he wasn’t there. it’s moments where he found you haphazardly digging for shit in your drawers, tucking whatever it was into your pockets and padding away softly to your room. you’d stay in there for hours, only coming out when he knocked on your door to tell you dinner was ready. he heard lots of rustling and you pretended as if you were just chilling in there, as if nothing was going on. sometimes when he knocked on your door to see what you were up to, all he heard back was an “i’m busy, baby! i’ll be out soon!” then it became even more odd, you’d quickly shut off your phone whenever he came into the room and would plaster a bright smile at him as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

he sighs to himself. he trusts you. he loves you. he knows you’re not doing anything heinous.

but… why won’t you tell him what’s bothering you? don’t you trust him to fix whatever is wrong? it eats away at his mind & soul that you think you have to hide whatever it is that’s taking you from him. don’t you know that he’d drop anything for you? that’s what being in love is for, right?

his eyes peer at you from the couch, studying you. he calls out to you softly, “angel. can we talk, please?”

a statement posed as a question. he knows this. you know this. you answer regardless.

“sure.”

you walk towards him, intentionally adding a lackadaisical swagger to your steps. to fool him. you know it won’t, he knows it won’t. but suguru isn’t anything if a man who doesn’t indulge his beloved.

he pats the seat next to him on the couch. inviting. as if he’s giving you a choice, even though you know you have none at the moment. “sit next to me, my love.” his smile is taut like a string, amber eyes shut closed so you don’t bear witness to the tears that threaten to spill.

he knows you’re hiding something.

he doesn’t like not being in the know.

is it something he did?

is it something you did but are too afraid to tell him?

since when were you afraid of him?

were you always–?

in the few seconds it takes you to sit down, a myriad of questions race through suguru’s head, creating a spiral of untamable negative thoughts. you would talk to him if something was wrong, right? you both have a healthy communication and always talk things over with each other… so what’s different now? do you not trust him?

suguru chastises himself, thoroughly.

of course you wouldn’t want to speak to someone like him.

always the overthinker. always the nagging negative nancy. always the manic-depressive.

sometimes suguru fears that he acts more like a father to you rather than a boyfriend.

that he’s a bit suffocating. too intense. very overbearing.

a warm hand engulfs both of your small, cold ones. he hopes that it comes off as sweet, as caring. because he himself is sweet and caring.

at least he hopes he comes off like that.

“is everything alright, sweetheart?” a soft whisper. he speaks placatingly to you like you’re a newborn fawn and any loud noises or large movements will make you jolt and run away. “i feel like… you’ve been avoiding me recently. and…” he takes a deep breath. “listen, i don’t know if it’s something i did, but you need to tell me, okay? you have to tell me so i can make it better.”

he thinks he sounds nurturing. kind. paternal.

he also thinks he sounds so fucking condescending.

he closes his eyes and a picture of a man darts across his eyelids like an overdeveloped photo.

strict, heavy-handed, cutthroat.

paternal and protective to a fault. a man who was always “right” even when he was wrong.

an “apathetic” man who bore a child who thought too much – felt too much.

a flash of a sophisticatedly handsome man with obsidian shoulder length hair, serious low-lidded eyes, and a firm closed mouth sears itself across suguru’s brain like a charred photograph.

he flings away the afterimage as quickly as it came. pretending as if he never even thought of it.

he gulps, swallowing the fireball in his throat. god, he really doesn’t want to be like… him. having a majority of his features is enough, he does not want to inherit that man’s personality.

suguru absentmindedly rubs the slit in his eyebrow, his grip unintentionally tightening on your hands. he releases moments after, not wanting to cause you any pain.

“everything is fine with me sugu, i promise you.” you reassure him. “it wasn’t my intention to avoid you or make you feel like you did anything wrong… i am so sorry if it came off like that.” you answer him honestly. your head is tilted to the side like a little puppy, brows furrowed, upset that you made him feel like you were trying to get away from him.

“no, no no no no no, baby it’s not your fault.” he quickly grabs your cheeks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. he brings you against his chest, hugging you tightly. “don’t apologize honey, i’m sorry… i just got into my head a bit.” he quickly placates you and kisses the top of your head. you shouldn’t be the one to suffer because he started to anxiously overthink and spiral.

he looks at the time on his watch. it’s a few minutes past midnight. you both should go to sleep… maybe you can talk it over in bed or in the morning with clear heads.

you exhale softly, shaking your head faintly. you press a delicate kiss against the corner of his lips. telling him, “give me a sec.”, you walk over and into your room.

he nods and watches you saunter away, putting his head into his hands. god… him and his big mouth… he sighs, anxiety crawling up his throat once more. he really didn’t want to upset you or anything, he angrily tells himself to apologize to you when you get back.

hearing you shuffle closer to him, he lifts his head.

in your hands is a… huge book?

“i wanted to give you this tomorrow… well technically today, but i guess it doesn’t really matter.”

he tilts his head, confused. you present him with the thing you’ve been working so hard on.

you smile at him so softly, he thinks that his heart is about to burst. “happy birthday, suguru.”

birthday…? oh god, it is his birthday.

he gently takes the present from you… it’s a scrapbook.

“don’t look at it in front of me! okay, bye!” you quickly sprint into your room, not wanting to be in the room when suguru looks at such a personalized present.

blinking, he grabs his reading glasses from the coffee table, and opens the book, flipping through each page carefully.

photobooth pictures, polaroids, kodak film pictures, movie tickets from your dates, admission tickets from amusement parks he’s taken you to, and multiple candids of both him and you - many of which he hasn’t seen.

one of them looks awfully familiar… did you take this the day you took him stargazing in the meadow? his fingers brush against his trembling lips, trying to stop himself from sobbing.

is this what you were doing?

he feels so stupid.

but god… does he feel so fucking loved.

you’ve immortalized every single moment of your relationship with him. nothing being too small for you to be excited about, carefully keeping everything.

he sees the little pressed flower of a daffodil enclosed in wax paper on one of the pages, probably from the first time you gave him a bouquet. the first time anyone has presented him with flowers without wanting anything in return. when asked about the occasion, you simply shrugged and said “just felt like it” & then quickly kissed his knuckles, zooming out of his apartment to run errands. he remembers how bashful he felt. how thankful he was. how loved that experience made him feel.

he moves his glasses upwards, wiping the tears across his lashline and the ones that stream down his face. he clears his throat slightly, and continues flipping the pages. you’ve drawn little doodles (things that he’s already planning to get tattooed on him simply because they came from you) and you’ve written beautiful, personal messages. encapsulating your adoration for suguru in the margins — genuine words filled with your love, devotion, and admiration for him.

he sniffs loudly and tries to wipe his face the best he can. he tenderly calls out your name, beckoning you over to him, and you get up out of your shared bedroom to pad softly into his open arms.

“my love.” he stands up and walks over to you midway. he hugs you so tightly while pressing your head against his beating heart, his arms protectively enveloping you. the space between you two is nonexistent, and suguru surmises that he wouldn’t have it any other way.

conveying his thankfulness and love to you, he sweetly says, “my sweet, sweet girl.” a soft kiss pressed against your hair, “my heart beats for you, forever and always.” from anyone else it’d sound cheesy, but from suguru… you know he means it from the depths of his soul.

“my little dove.” he coos so fondly, sweet candied sugar dripping from every syllable. he holds your face in his gentle hands, openly divulging his admiration for you, “you’re so precious to me, you know that? i love you. i love you. i love you.” a tender kiss pressed against your soft lips between each proclamation of adoration.

you smile graciously, thankful and relieved that he adores your present and that he especially adores you. you knew out of any of your presents that you were going to give him today, that this would be the most meaningful. suguru has always been the ultimate sentimentalist, and you wanted him to know that you care for him so deeply. that you love him. adore him. that your heart beats only for him. pushing back a black tendril of your true love’s hair behind his ear, you kiss him gently. both of your lips fitting together perfectly — like a lock & key.

you bring his knuckles upon your lips, preciously kissing his promise ring, ensuring to him that your love and devotion runs deep, deeper than anything in this world.

“i love you too. happy birthday, my love.” his hands are so gentle. his face is so sweet. suguru… your one true love.

if you asked suguru to describe you in three words, he’d say you were: devoted. loyal. loving.

he has four more of his own on the tip of his tongue that he’ll ask to you when he musters up the courage.

with a soft kiss upon the ring on your knuckles, and an even softer smile upon his lips, he lovingly breathes out, “私はあなたを永遠に愛します”

#geto suguru x reader #getou suguru x reader #geto x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #belated b-day fic for my beloved ON valentine’s day… i’m a lover to my CORE. never think otherwise #if you listen to the song there are some callbacks to the lyrics in this fic itself :’) if you read this thank you & i hope you enjoy! :D #i edited the geto pic myself are you proud :3 fixed his hair + made it clear + spruced up the coloring <3 anything for MY man #my writings #personal

[salemoleander]

His thumb shakes, resting over the send chat button.

"Grian?" Martyn asks, floating nearby. "Everything alright with the server?"

Blunt as ever, Lizzie chimes in, "Why haven't you killed him yet? C'mon, we need to get going. Some of us have already been waiting ages for this one to wrap up." She punctuates her statement by sweeping an arm towards Mumbo and Jimmy, loudly talking with Bdubs a few dozen blocks away.

Could ghosts sweat? It didn't seem like ghosts should sweat. Grian feels stress prickling over his skin anyways.

"I'm- I can't," he admits, voice small. "Not like this."

Grian would happily kill Scar in PVP, in jest, in competition. But the idea of just striking him down is... uncomfortable. No chance of survival, no fairness, no fighting back at all. He's already done that once to Scar, at the end of the start. Grian won't do it again.

THIS IS WHY HE IS THE WINNER thrums through his mind. From the winces around him, everyone else can hear the Secret Keeper's message too.

"Why? Because he was willing to kill?" Grian snaps to its stone face, mouth twisted down. "That's sort of the point."

NO, INSOLENT ONE the Secret Keeper rumbles. HE WON BECAUSE HE OBEYED MY INSTRUCTIONS BEST. NO MATTER. I AM EQUALLY CAPABLE OF ENDING THIS GAME.

Cowardice sits like blood in his throat. Grian screws his eyes shut a moment before lightning strikes and thunder peals out below.

#slsmp #secret life #grian #life series #salem fic #slsmp spoilers #secret life spoiler #:D just a little ficlet while im inspired. tomorrow is gonna be such a Writing Day i can feel it #wanted to explore scar not dying in his ep and what happened after the end

[underwittingly]

midnight rendezvous

#vaguely inspired by all those fics w h & d meeting at the astronomy tower at nights when they cant sleep #drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #my art #omg i drew harry's face! finally #ok i feel like i made him too pretty boy but idfk how to draw rugged men lol #um one day i'll stop drawing this angle... #harry is literally me bro me personally id be enamoured too #ok i rlly like these cinematic type screencaps they're good for atmospheric pieces #tbh i dont rlly like how draco's half turned out but it's ok...

[bekkomi]

HAPPY VDAY!!!!

#kobylu #cobylu #koby #monkey d. luffy #one piece #op fanart #valentines day #bekkodraws #this actually became one of my favorite ships and i need more fics of them

[spoilers-ahead]

okay!! now that it’s not 2am for me, i’m going to post my selkie!jason todd hc’s straight up au apparently! 

(uh. this was supposed to just be a list of hc’s but i got slightly,,,, carried away)

his selkie skin looks like an oversized red hoodie in his human form, and is just warm enough to help him survive new england winters.

when the summer heat becomes unbearable, he slings the hoodie around his waist

alternatively, he just coasts it out underwater. perks of living in a coastal city!

willis todd was a selkie. he used to tell jason stories of what it was like to swim through the big, wide ocean. of how freeing it felt. how different it is, from the smoggy, heavy air of gotham --- different, but both theirs, in their own right.

but to be honest, jason doesn’t remember much about the stories he was told, or really, anything about willis --- he had been in and out of blackgate for most of jason’s life, working for two-face to try and make ends meet, before dying. 

what jason mostly remembers, are the warnings. don’t let anybody know you’re a selkie. don’t let anybody find your skin. they will find it, and they will use it to control you. even decades later, jason would still remember those warnings. 

catherine is the one who teaches him how to swim, who helps him trial-and-error his way into putting his skin on, and learn how to make the transition seamless. 

after she dies, jason spends three months as a seal, to just... exist. forget.   

although jason technically lives on the streets, whenever he can;t find food, whenever he can’t find somewhere warm to sleep, whenever just being human becomes too unbearable, he spends the night as a seal. he ends up spending more time in the ocean, than on land.

that’s not to say he’s very good at being a seal --- he barely knows how to swim, has to learn how to fish the hard way. 

when bruce finds jason stealing his car tires, he marvels over how nice jason’s hoodie is, soft and fluffy even after all of jason’s time on the streets, especially given the condition jason is in, ribs showing from malnutrition, and the worn and raggedy shape of the rest of his stuff.

jason is skittish when he goes to live in the manor, even after a few weeks. he always adopts an expression particularly similar to a cornered wild animal around alfred in particular, alfred, who keeps on trying to take his hoodie away, purportedly to wash it.

alfred eventually gives up on trying to force jason to wash it --- he figures that as jason becomes more comfortable living at the manor, he’ll wind up telling them why he’s so protective over that hoodie, and they can work something out then. 

whenever wayne manor overwhelms jason with how big and how decadently expensive all the decor is, jason runs away, run to the ocean. 

jason doesn’t actually end up telling alfred and bruce that he’s a selkie --- bruce just has a ridiculous amount of motion alarms, which are triggered every time jason ran off. he had followed jason the third night, and saw him transform. 

bruce doesn’t tell jason that he knows, assuming that jason kept this a secret because he didn’t fully trust either of them. he would later learn that he was right in this assumption (a rare win for bruce in terms of emotional awareness)

except jason doesn’t fully trust either of them, even after a few months. bruce impulsively decides to do a few things --- a) tell jason about batman and robin and his crime-fighting secret identity, and b) tell jason he already knows about him being a selkie. 

jason is absolutely bamboozled by the fact that bruce knows, and yet hasn’t tried to take his hoodie to control him, or to stop him from playing in the ocean for a few hours. 

in fact, (under alfred’s encouragement) bruce offers to take him to the ocean during the day, so he can get “a proper night’s rest that a growing young boy such as himself would need”

jason remembers what his father told him, to never trust anyone, never let his guard down. but bruce has known about jason being a selkie for so long, and he didn’t take his hoodie or try anything. of course he can trust bruce. 

and when he tries on the robin costume for the first time, it fits perfectly. just like his hoodie, his second skin. it fits just like magic. 

oh, it’s a little loose in some places, the legacy of dick fucking grayson a little heavy sometimes, but he’ll grow into it. he’ll make himself, if he has to. 

also, jason finds the fact that even though he’s a friggin’ selkie, his callsign is a bird (a robin, no less) incredibly ironic and funny 

being a selkie is actually so useful for vigilantehood. the amount of people who talk freely, openly, and loudly about their drug smuggling plans near the ports is quite frankly, ridiculous.

honestly, towards the end of his robin years, jason remains genuinely surprised nobody catches on to him or his tactics yet. bruce is very proud.  

even though jason is safe, has been safe for three years, and trusts bruce with his life, his skin, and everything, old habits are hard to break. so he has his hoodie on when he goes to find sheila. 

and anyways, he wants to see if sheila is a selkie too. he’s taking biology right now, and they’re learning about punnett squares. jason’s never met another selkie before, other than willis who he barely remembers. there’s a possibility that sheila knows something, anything, so he has to try. 

sheila gets a glint in her eyes when jason mentions that he’s a selkie, tells him that while she’s not one herself, she’s familiar with the myth. she has long suspected that willis was a selkie, she tells him, and she’s glad to have confirmation. 

jason positively vibrates with excitement, can’t wait to ask, to pester his mother (mother!) with questions upon questions until. 

until. 

sheila doesn’t do anything after she gives him to the joker. she just smokes and smokes. and she doesn’t tell the joker about his hoodie, despite how it would have been much easier for the joker to destroy him that way. much more painful too.  

small mercies, he supposes, in between hacking coughs that brings blood bubbling up his lips. 

after he dies, his hoodie is ripped and in tatters from the crowbar, with burns along the edges from the bomb. bruce has to carefully peel it off his body. 

when jason was alive, his magic kept the hoodie in perfect condition, always. even when the rest of him was covered head-to-toe in mud, or dripping sludge from the nasty gotham sewers. 

bruce stares at the same hoodie, blood-soaked and mangled, so incredibly dissonant from how he remembered it on jason, when he was bright, whole, and alive. 

he can’t stand it. the hoodie that was so precious to jason, that was jason, at the core of him, in this state. dirty and ripped and devoid of the magic jason had exuded. 

in a moment of desperation, late at night, bruce asks alfred to teach him how to sew. he doesn’t dare to practice on jason’s beloved hoodie --- instead, he starts with the suits in his closet, grabbing the first one he sees, regardless of price. rips a hole and sews it back together over and over until he perfects his technique. 

and then he washes the fabric gently, using baby fabric cleanser and scrubbing for hours upon hours until the last traces of the deep-set brown stain from jason’s blood washes down the drain.

he painstakingly sews the scraps of fabric back together with a red thread, carefully sourced to match the hoodie to try and make it flow seamlessly like it used to. 

it doesn’t work, not exactly. despite his best efforts, the creases bruce had carefully sewn together are prominent and thick like scars, littering the  soft fabric.

so he gives up. he hangs it over the grandfather clock entrance to the cave in his study. brings it with him every time he visits jason’s grave, because he doesn’t ever want to keep jason’s hoodie away from him, but he also can’t bear for it to get ruined. 

dick visits him. a rare occurrence, these days. 

dick yells at him, as he is wont to do. 

these days, it feels like they spend more time angry at each other than not. dick says that this isn’t right. isn’t fair to anybody, not to alfred, not to himself, definitely not to jason. he rants, jason deserves to be remembered as he was in life, not frozen in death. 

perhaps he is right. bruce is not unaware of the state of violent, cutting stasis he is in, this putrefaction of his life. and he is certainly not unaware of how it is affecting the people around him. dick. alfred. the neighbor’s kid, the one who wants to be robin.   

bruce tries. not for himself, but for tim. for alfred, for dick. even for stephanie brown, who sometimes, when she smirks just right, or says something with just the right twang, he swears he can see jason in her. 

he still can’t bear to put the hoodie away, because jason deserved better than to be forgotten, so he folds it gently and places it in his closet instead. 

he also can’t bear to look at it for very long, so he forces himself to every single day. 

it’s different from the glass case that houses robin’s tattered suit in the cave --- that, is a reminder of how he failed robin. this, this is salt in a constant, stabbing, festering would, reminding him of how he failed his son. 

it was stephanie, that eventually helped him figure out what to do with the hoodie. when she was young, young enough to cry at ripped pants and skinned knees, young enough that her mother hadn’t touched the drugs yet, her mother would dry up her tears, give her a hug and a kiss on the forehead, before patching her pants up. 

what not many people know, is that before crystal brown set her mind on becoming a nurse, she wanted to be an artist, first. and so she grabs her old set of embroidery needles, and stitched little designs. dogs and cats. stars and planets. tools and gadgets. 

bruce doesn’t react, doesn’t even move, even as stephanie finishes her story. she hangs there awkwardly for a second, stares up at jason’s suit, waiting for him to respond, before shuffling towards the exit of the cave. 

thank you, spoiler, bruce manages to croak out. 

ah, yeah, she says, shrugging lightly while slouching in on herself, any time, boss. she walks out, and bruce watches her go from the reflection on the darkened computer. 

that night, he takes out jason’s hoodie, smooths it out, grabs his threads, and stitches. 

he stitches on constellations, argo navis, for jason’s namesake in the greek myths he had loved so much. a tiny seal, playing with beach balls. little books, with quotes on the sides. a robin, big and bold. 

he tries to make it as true to jason as possible, not just in death and in bruce’s memories, but as he was in life.

jason wakes up abruptly.  

he wakes up in a coffin, cold, alone, and with a gaping hole in his chest. getting dipped in the lazarus pit only made it worse, only made him all the more aware of what he was missing, all the more conscious of it. 

he doesn’t bother trying to learn how to swim with two arms and two legs, instead of two fins and a tail. it doesn’t feel the same. it only reminds him of what he’s lost. 

sometimes, on sleepless nights that happen more often than not, he wonders what would have happened if he still had a hoodie, still could swim. 

if he still was robin. 

and he doesn’t have access to the cave anymore, or to the titan’s tower, or the watchtower, and his memory of the past is still patchy and shitty in some places. 

so in a burst of impulsivity fueled by the person he no longer is, he prints out photos of robin’s costume from the internet and recreates it on his own. 

if his skin is gone, then fine. fine! he’s perfectly perfunctorily aware that nothing about this resurrection of his is natural. if he doesn’t think too much about it, he’ll be alright. his hoodie, his skin, that was something he was born with, a birthright that died with him. 

but robin, robin was something that he helped shape. robin was something that he worked for, changed himself for. 

and the makeshift robin suit --- it doesn’t fit him, not anymore. no, it feels wrong, like a child playing with their parent’s suit. or --- he realizes, perhaps more accurately, like an adult realizing they no longer fit in their favorite clothes. 

and --- and --- what was the point of it all? what was the point, of trying to make bruce proud of him, of getting dick’s approval, of trying to futilely save people over and over again from the same gallery of supervillains who keep on escaping from prison?!

and what was the point of carving out a space for himself if the joker was just going to beat him out of it, and if tim drake was going to insert himself in the hole he left behind?

and then the next thing he knows he’s in titan’s tower hitting tim drake over and over again because who let him? who let him take jason’s role as a son, as a brother, as a hero? how dare he?

but when he’s slit tim’s throat and torn the ‘R’ off his chest, jason doesn’t feel any better. the robin suit still doesn’t fit. his hoodie’s still gone. 

he’s starting to think it never will, not again. 

sometimes, when he gets tired enough to let his mind wander, he wonders what happened to his suit. 

he’s pretty sure he died with it, so either the hoodie is with the joker, batman, or... gone entirely. (it’s not like they found willis’ skin after he died. maybe selkie skins just disappear in a cloud of sea foam once they die, or some little mermaid shit like that)

it’s a cold comfort, that nobody can manipulate him now. nobody can control him --- not even batman. 

(bruce had thought about it. when he first had his suspicious regarding who the red hood was, before he knew there was any trace of the son he once had left. he thought about using the hoodie, using jason’s selkie skin to coerce him, at least to stop murdering people, to stop hurting their family.) 

(he would never go that far, in retrospect, or at least, he doesn’t think he could ever. to do that to jason, betray his trust so thoroughly and completely... but it would be a lie to say that he didn’t consider it.)

bruce reflects on this as jason reveals himself, the joker tied up at his feet with a gun pressed to his head, and venom spitting from his son’s mouth.  

but when he lifts the batarang to hit jason’s gun, or wrist, or anything that’ll force him to drop the gun, he realizes that his hands are shaking. 

and when he throws the batarang, he knows a millisecond after he’s let go, that he’s miscalculated the ricochet. 

so when jason escapes that night, bruce knows he’s fucked up. 

jason goes off the maps, completely. bruce doesn’t know where he is, if he’s safe, if he even made it out of the explosion that night. 

it takes weeks. weeks for bruce to track jason down, from meticulously documenting the dropped threads of where the red hood was pulling strings in the gotham underworld behind the scenes, to tracking security cameras with facial recognition. 

once bruce manages find where he’s staying, make sure he’s safe, he knows what he wants to do. and, he knows what he needs to do. 

jason gets a package in the mail, five weeks after his disasterous meeting with batman and the joker. unmarked, unsigned, no return address. 

when jason opens the box gingerly and carefully, he holds on to his skin for the first time in years. and then, and then, and then --- something right slots into place. his fingers brushed gently over the tiny spotted seal he knows he used to look like, the books he remembered ranting to bruce about for hours on end. 

the robin, on the top left, over his heart, big enough to have changed him, yet small enough to not define him. 

it’s not perfect. it doesn’t even fix anything, not entirely. he still fights with bruce most times he sees him, tries to punch dick in the face, steadfastly ignores tim and steph the entire time. 

but it’s something. it’s something, and the next time nightwing, batman, spoiler, and robin fight a gang on the docks, the red hood gives them a helping hand before jumping back into the ocean and swimming away.

fin!

wow this got long

#jason todd #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam #selkie!jason #dick grayson #stephanie brown #tim drake #catherine todd #willis todd #that one selkie!jason au #i swear i will turn this into an actual fic one day #anyways about the using embroidery to fix ripped clothes thing all i can say is WATCH HI MOM #it's SUCH a good movie and i guarantee it will DEVASTATE you in ALL your little mommy issues glory #like you think the batfamily comics/fanfics have an amazing nuanced complicated take on the parent-child dynamic? #this movie will BLOW your fucking SOCKS off. and best part of all: you can watch it WITH said parent #and it won't be as horrible of an experience as showing them encanto/turning red/eeaao! #in fact your parent will probably like the movie too and be reminded of THEIR own mommy issues :D #admittedly it's slightly different from the examples i listed above bc it's more abt what it's like to never reach ur parent's expectation #rather than an exploration of complicated parenting but it's still very relatable and very very good #the best part is you can find it all for free on youtube. also note that i mean the recent chinese movie not the old 70s movie #asteria's fics #i'm never writing a fucking flash fic on TUMBLR of all text editors again #shouldve written this out on a google doc first but i genuinely did not think this would get so long T.T #you can probably tell from the first three (3) bullet points that this was supposed to be a hc list before... it stopped being a hc list #guys i started writing this at 12 PM #IT'S NOW 9 AWOGEJAWOIG #my writing

[sadcat02]

made a little quick animation of @okiedoketm ‘s fic [KANGVCD] after that one note about koby looking like tombo . this fic has literally made me go insane I haven’t animated in maybe 5 years and I couldn’t resist

#koby’s awful no good very confusing day #kangvcd #i’m so in love #op koby #koby one piece #one piece #art for my fic #kobylu #monkey d luffy #one piece luffy #sadcat02 art

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 18 - Jake's POV

Thank you for the prompt @beyondthesefourwalls. Here's 4.8K words of Jake's POV - it got way more angsty than anticipated...

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“Pick up,” Jake growled. “Pick up, pick up. Damn it!” When the call rolled to voicemail again, he hung up before you’d even finished saying, ‘Hi, you’ve reached - ’ 

Walking the halls in the carrier wasn’t the smartest thing to do when making a call. There were dead spots everywhere, not to mention the higher-ranking officers he’d have to stop and salute. But it didn’t matter. Jake needed to talk to you somewhere he wouldn’t be interrupted. With Fritz hanging out in the room, his best bet was to find an empty lounge or meeting room.

Those two texts had nearly made his heart stop. 

Prents here

U

What did the ‘U’ mean? His parents? Did he need to call ASAP? Did you just accidentally hit a button? Fuck. If it was your parents visiting, all the better. He could hear in your voice that you were tired, as much as you tried to hide it. And it killed him not to be there to help you more. Jake knew how much you were looking forward to having a long weekend to relax, and he wanted you to be as well-rested as possible for your trip to see him.

Guilt still gnawed at him at the thought of you flying 40 hours round trip to see him, but he wanted to see you so badly. 

The next call went to voicemail as he walked into the officer lounge and saw a group loudly laughing. Biting back a growl of frustration, he shut the door and continued down the hall. Of course, this would happen when most people were off-duty, and it’d be hard to find somewhere quiet. 

When his fifth call went to voicemail, Jake had to stop himself from turning and punching the wall. Not only would that hurt him more than do any damage, but he couldn’t end up at Captain’s Mast for something stupid when he was so close to getting liberty. He wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize seeing you. 

On the sixth call, you finally picked up. Before you could say a word, he asked, “What do you mean, ‘u’?”

“Your parents are here.” 

“My - ” Shock rooted him to the spot. “My parents are there?” 

“Your father currently has his shoes on my coffee table and wants a beer, and your mother is in the pantry making him sweet tea as a substitute until she goes out to get some.” Your voice was stressed, and Jake hated it.

The idea of his parents being anywhere near you pissed him off and terrified him. He’d made it clear to his family that being around you and the baby was on his terms.

And, to be honest, he was pissed at himself for not realizing this would happen. After Lina had gotten on his case about not calling his parents once during the deployment, he’d finally caved and called Mama. While she’d been happy to hear from him, Jake had also gotten an earful from his father about waiting over two months to call. Knowing it wouldn't do any good, it had taken all his self-control not to hang up.

But now, knowing that they’d made the effort to go from Texas to California, Jake wished he’d paid more attention to that one fucking sentence his father had said. Should have known it hadn’t only been meant for him - “A man’s gotta keep tabs on his family, and you’re doing a piss poor job of it.” 

When it came to Mark Seresin, he’d always been suspicious of his family. For a man who cared so little about his own marriage vows or how his constant infidelity would impact his family, he was always suspicious of people stepping out on him. 

“Did he say why they came?” He tried to keep his tone even but knew he failed spectacularly. 

“He said he wanted to keep an eye on me, and - ”

“That son of a bitch,” he snapped. Two men looked at him, and he glared back while looking into another occupied meeting room. You inhaled sharply, and he felt a spike of regret that was quickly smothered by rage. 

“Jake?”

“Put him on the phone.” He would tell them to leave - they weren’t welcome in his home. Jake was nearing the commissary and spun on his heel. He didn’t want to be near anyone right now. 

“I’m in our bathroom. Talk to me.”

“I can’t believe… how long are they staying?” 

“The weekend, apparently. And they’re expecting to stay here.” He stopped walking, thrusting a hand into his hair and tugging. 

“Absolutely not.” Jake knew he shouldn’t be taking his anger out on you, but it was hard to contain. When someone called his name, he glanced over his shoulder to see Rooster coming out of the store, a plastic bag swinging from his hand. Holding up a finger to the other man, he hissed, “I told him he wouldn’t step foot in our house, and he waited for me to be out of the fuckin’ country to do it.” 

“You - ”

“I want you to call Coyote and get him there - now. And then you’re gonna call me back and stay on the phone until he gets there.” 

Rooster’s eyebrows shot up, mouthing, “Everything okay?” He shook his head. 

“Jake, you’re scaring me,” you said, and he hated that. He didn’t want to scare you, but he couldn’t have you near his father without someone to keep the other man in line. His mama wouldn’t do it. “Tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t want him near you, not when I’m not there. I don’t trust him.” A phone was thrust into his face, and Jake looked up to see Rooster frowning at him. It was unlocked and opened to the Dagger text thread. Their eyes met momentarily before Jake held his phone against his shoulder and typed out a quick message as he heard you exhale. 

Need someone to go to my house ASAP - H

“Babe,” you said, voice even as he returned the phone. “I understand you’re upset, but I don’t need Javy here to help manage this. I can - ” 

He hissed your name, ignoring the look Rooster gave him. “You don’t know him. He’s not a good person.” When he turned away, he felt a tug at his elbow. Rooster nodded down the hall, and Jake followed. 

“I know that, Jake. From the little you’ve told me about him, I know that he’s an asshole and that your mother is not my biggest fan. But I need you to please take a breath and tell me the context of why you told him he wouldn’t be in our house.” Forcing himself to take a deep breath, he heard you do the same. Rooster opened one of the classrooms and shut it. “You still there?” you asked.

“Yeah, tryin’ to find somewhere private. Hold on.” Rooster continued down the hall, checking rooms and glancing at his phone before handing it back to him. Jake glanced down at the texts from the Daggers — Javy confirmed that he was on his way with Payback, Phoenix was leaving the gym, and Bob the grocery store. Fanboy asked to be kept in the loop. Mav texted, asking where he was. Quickly, he typed that they were trying to find somewhere quiet.

“Sloane’s moving.” Your soft voice tried to distract him. As much as he appreciated it, he didn’t want that. He needed to be clear-headed right now — he needed to be Hangman when you clearly wanted Jake. 

And, at that moment, he felt like he was failing at both. 

Glancing down at the phone in his hand, he saw a new text from Mav on Rooster’s screen that was only two words: Ready room. Tapping his wingman on the shoulder, he handed the phone back to him. “Darlin’?”

“Yeah?”

“Can’t wait until I’m off this goddamn ship and can get some privacy.” The two men quickly changed direction, pushing through the crowded hallways and ignoring the people celebrating being off duty for the weekend. They were silent for a long time, Jake trying to push down his rising panic at his parents being there with the knowledge that his squad would arrive soon. “Do you trust me?” he asked, ignoring the look that Rooster shot him. 

“Of course I do. Jake,” you sighed, exasperation sneaking into your tone. “If you don’t want them in our home, I’ll have them leave. I just… I need to have information so I can approach this the right way.” 

“The right way is with Coyote there.” 

“Why?” you demanded. “Why do I need your best friend here? Is your father going to be violent when I ask him to leave?”

“He better not be,” Jake growled. Unwanted memories of having to step between his parents when his father was drunk and angry threatened to swallow him. His tongue darted out, tasting the phantom coppery blood from a sucker punch he’d taken as a teen. Mark Seresin had always been a dictator in his home, and Jake had counted down the days until he could leave. He could take the yelling and name-calling - Jake had been told he was worthless more times than he could count - but as soon as he stood up and pushed back against his father, that was it. Mark expected to be the king in his castle and didn’t care if knocking around his sixteen-year-old son was the cost of enforcing that. After the school counselor called him in to ask about a black eye once, Mark had been careful to hit Jake where it wouldn’t show - where the bruises could be explained away with a rough football practice. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it fucking hurt. Not only hearing his mama crying and promising that it wouldn’t happen again but knowing that he couldn’t trust a word that came out of her mouth. 

It was a relief anytime Mark deployed. Not having to tiptoe around the house was almost worth the pain in his mama’s eyes, knowing her husband was probably unfaithful again. It was worth not hiding the marks from Lina, who grew up in blissful ignorance of the monster that lived down the hall from them. When he’d gotten into the Academy, Jake had hesitated a moment before accepting, afraid of what would happen if he left the house and wasn’t there to protect mama. But she was the one who told him he had to go - things would calm down once he was out of the house, she assured him.

Unwilling to examine the lie too closely, Jake went to Annapolis with freedom at his fingertips and never looked back. 

Outside the Ready Room, Mav waited, the door already propped open for them. The older aviator dipped his chin and raised his eyebrows, silently asking if Jake was okay. He shook his head, ducking into the room as you sighed. 

“Babe, please, I need you to focus because we have a situation, and I need to handle it in a minute. And to do that, I need you to be very honest with me right now about your concerns about me interacting with your father and answer a few questions for me.” He felt a flicker of annoyance at your tone - the one you used when working with a particularly difficult person. “First, why did you tell him he couldn’t step foot in our home?”

“Because he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve to know you after what he said.” The two pilots stood at the back of the room, allowing him some privacy as they whispered. But he knew they could hear every word, and he didn’t want to face their pitying looks if they knew how he’d grown up.

“And what did he say?” you asked.

“I don’t - ”

“Jacob.” 

“You heard him call you a tag chaser,” he said after a moment. “You didn’t hear him say…he said some pretty terrible things about you.” Running a hand down his face, he paced the front of the classroom, remembering the disgusting accusations Mark had thrown when he’d called to let his parents know that you were getting married and having a baby. Mama had cried when Jake finally yelled back that he would be damned if Mark Seresin ever laid eyes on his daughter-in-law or grandkid, which had only made the man laugh. “He said the baby probably wasn’t mine and that you’d cheat on me the moment you had the chance if you hadn’t already. And that… that you would leave me as soon as you got tired of military life, just like my ex did.”

“I…” Jake knew the words hurt and hated himself for sharing them. But you had to know what you were facing. Clearing your throat, you asked, “W-what are your concerns with me confronting him alone?”

“Darlin’,” Jake groaned. When you hummed, he cursed under his breath. “I never saw him hit ma, but it was close. And I don’t… I can’t have that happen. Not with you.” He could feel eyes on him. Ignoring them, he pulled up one of the desks and collapsed into the chair, dropping his head into a hand. 

After a moment, you sighed, “Javy’s on his way. I won’t do anything until he gets here. Do I need to find a way to keep your mom away from him?”

Mama would take the brunt of this, and he wasn’t there to protect her. “I…I want to say yes, but you're my priority if it’s between you and her. Fuck!” Jake pulled at his hair, hating that you were being forced to deal with the situation. “Promise me you’ll call the cops if he does anything.”

“Of course. I love you.” There was movement in front of him, and he looked up to see Mav crouching, phone held out in front of him. Police? was typed into a note. Jake stared at it for a long moment before meeting the older man’s steady gaze. Slowly, he shook his head before lowering it and swiping at his eyes. Mav stood, squeezing his shoulder. 

“I love you too, darlin’. I’m so sorry that - ”

“This isn’t on you. We can handle this. I’m gonna go check the mail to make sure that the door’s open for when Javy gets here. Do you want me to call you back when - ”

“Stay on the phone. Please, darlin’, don’t hang up.”

“I won’t.” 

“Coyote and Payback are almost there,” Rooster said softly, and Jake turned to see both men watching him with concerned expressions. Nodding, he turned away from them. 

His father’s voice nearly made him crack his phone with how tightly he held it. He was too far to hear what he said but snorted when you replied, “It is. He says hi.” He wanted to say many things to Mark, but 'hello' wasn’t it. 

He’d apparently raised his voice to ensure he heard what he said. “Tell him I said hello, and he needs to call his mama more.” Jake bit his tongue. As much as he wanted to say something back, his wife would have to relay the message, and he didn’t want her to talk to his father more than necessary. 

“I will. I’m gonna go grab the mail.” There was the sound of a door closing; he breathed a sigh of relief that you were out of the house. “Did you hear that?”

“Fuckin’ asshole,” he grunted. He could feel eyes on him but chose not to look. 

“I’m gonna put my phone in my pocket for a second.”

“Darlin’, don’t - ” he said, but the line was muffled. “Darlin’, I need to hear what’s goin’ on. Pick up your phone.” But when he heard you speak next, the disbelief in your voice was unmistakable. 

“Excuse me?” Jake felt his hackles rise, pushing to his feet and pacing the front of the classroom. His heart dropped to the floor when you spoke again. “I’ll have you know that I was also raised in the military, so I’m not a civilian going through their first deployment. I know how this works because my dad deployed a lot when I was growing up, and it was just my mom and me,” you snapped. “And my house is not perfect, but I had no idea I’d have guests coming, I work full time, and I’m pregnant. So when it comes to dividing my time, I will pick my career and take care of myself over doing housework, especially when I’m mostly here by myself. And Jake knew how I cleaned before we got married.” 

“Don’t push him, baby,” he groaned, tugging at his hair as he pressed his phone tightly against his ear to try and hear better. “Be smart, darlin’.” He fell silent when he heard his father speak. 

“I am not, and never have been, a tag chaser, so I’d appreciate it if you stopped calling me that. If anything, I married your son despite him being in the military.” You paused, then said, “Tricare’s just not worth it.” 

At any other time, Jake would find that funny. But not when his father was close enough for him to finally hear what he said. “You got a smart mouth on you, you know that?” 

“Get away from her,” he growled. 

“It’s one of the things Jake loves about me.” 

“Your daddy shoulda tanned your hide for that and taught you some manners.” He knew that tone and felt the blood leaving his face.  

“We’ll agree to disagree on that.” 

“Stop, darlin’. Don’t say anything.” 

“Take your hand off of me. Now.” 

Rage blinded him. “Take your fucking hands off my wife!” Jake yelled, balling his fist. He felt so useless, halfway across the world and unable to do anything. “I’ll fuckin’ kill you if you touch her, you bastard!” 

Someone touched his shoulder, and Jake whirled to see Mav standing behind him, hands raised. “It’s just me,” he said, and it took Jake a heartbeat to realize he’d raised his fist to the other man. Quickly, he dropped his arm, unable to keep the stricken look from his face. 

“Coyote’s almost there,” Rooster called from the door, phone pressed to his ear. 

“Tell him to hurry,” Mav said, not removing his eyes from Jake’s face. “I need you to focus, Hangman.”

But Jake was past hearing him when his father’s voice was clearer. “An’ what’s he gonna do for you when you’re here all alone? Clearly, you need a man to teach you a lesson, and if my son isn’t up to the task - ” 

“Do it and pull back a bloody stump.”

“Don’t fucking touch her!” Jake yelled. 

“They’re pulling in, Jake.” 

“I’ll make sure you spend the nice, long holiday weekend in jail, and I’m pretty sure those assault charges would have more consequences since I’m pregnant.”

Jake loved you to the point that it sometimes hurt, but he wanted nothing more than to cover your mouth at that moment. He could imagine Mark Seresin’s look, the fury at being challenged like that. 

“You little bit - ”

He braced himself, muscles tensing futilely to throw himself in front of the blow. There was nothing he could do to protect you. Fury and horror nearly choked him as he gripped his phone and tugged at his hair, swallowing his screams to try and hear what was going on. 

“Come in! We’re in the kitchen.” Jake collapsed at the sound of his best friend’s voice, knees slamming into the steel floor. “Everything’s fine,” you said. “He was just going to wait outside for his wife to come back and then find a hotel for the weekend.”

A hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing tightly. “You can’t kick me out of my son’s house,” Mark snapped, and his mouth moved wordlessly to tell him to get the fuck out. 

“This is my house just as much as it’s Jake’s,” you said. “And if you don’t leave, I’ll call the police and have them remove you.” 

“Let’s not get the cops involved if we don’t have to,” Javy said, attempting to play the peacekeeper. 

“Call them,” Jake managed to croak. The phone was hot against his ear, and he felt disgusted when his father tried to pull rank.

“Then it’s Lieutenant Machado to you. Now, she said to get out, so let’s go.” A heartbeat later, he growled, “Back up.”

A small part of Jake wanted Mark to push. Wanted to have a reason to have Javy lay the man out - if he wasn’t there to defend his wife, he knew his best friend would do it. “You and my pussy of a son deserve each other.”

“Get. The fuck. Out of my house,” you ordered, and Jake heard a scuffle. 

“Darlin’? What’s happening?” he demanded. “Talk to me, please, baby.” 

Rooster hurried down the classroom steps, holding his phone up with the call on speaker. “ - inside if I don’t - ” Payback cut himself off. 

“You wanna lay hands on a woman?” Jake heard Javy snarl, looking up as he listened to your ragged breathing. 

“Get your hands off me, boy,” Mark hissed. 

“Oh, hell no,” Payback snapped. 

“Watch him. I’ve got her,” Javy ordered. 

“Try something. I’m begging you,” Payback said, and Jake turned his attention back to your call, pressing a hand to his ear to try and block out everything but your breathing. 

Finally, after an eternity, you sobbed his name into the phone. “Fuck, darlin’, are you okay?” he demanded, voice rough with swallowed tears. When you said you were, he squeezed his eyes shut. “I can’t believe that fuckin’ asshole touched you. I’m gonna kill him.

“I’m okay,” you promised. 

“She’s a little pale but looks good, Hangman.”

“Jesus, Javy - I…” Jake seemed to choke on his words. “Thank you, man. I - ”

“No thanks necessary; I'm just glad you texted me. Payback’s outside keeping an eye on the situation.” Jake glanced up at his spot from the floor, eyes darting to where Rooster was collapsed in one of the chairs, phone cradled between his knees. 

“Nat’s there,” he said, noticing his wingman looking at him. “They’ve got her, man.” 

Jake could hear you fighting against crying when Nat offered to take you to the hospital and would have traded anything to be there to hold you. To be the one to take you and make sure that you and the baby were alright. Knowing that someone had bruised you made him want to burn the world down. 

But the hardest part, which almost succeeded in shattering him, was hearing your heartbreak while asking, “But what if they tell me I can’t come to see you?” 

Breathing your name, he felt his stomach drop. He wanted to see you, to hold you tight and promise that nothing like this would ever happen again. But that wasn’t the priority right now. “I’d rather know that you and Sloane will be okay than see you in two weeks. That’s all that matters.” 

Mav pulled Jake to his feet and gently pushed him into one of the desk chairs, collapsing beside him. The older pilot rested a hand on Jake’s shoulder as he listened to you crying softly when Phoenix drove you to the hospital. Sloane hadn’t moved in a while, but he did his best to assure you everything would be okay. 

Jake’s phone was about to die, and he had to hang up while you waited to be seen. Rooster left to retrieve a power bank and charging cord, leaving Jake with Mav. “Are you alright, kid?” he asked. 

“Not really,” Jake admitted, clutching his phone tightly and feeling how warm it was. 

“Your dad’s - ”

“Dead to me.” Nodding, Mav stretched out in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. The silence stretched for a long time before he cleared his throat.

“My dad was an aviator. Shot down in Vietnam. And my mom… well,” he huffed, smiling without humor. “She picked some real winners after he died. One of the worst, though… he’d get drunk and knock her around. I was too young to do much about it, and she told me to stay out of the way because I was making it worse.” 

When Jake glanced at Mav, the other man was staring up at the ceiling, expression tense. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately, he stuck around. And no matter how much I tried to tell Mom he needed to go, she wouldn’t listen. And when I turned 18, he kicked me out of the house. A couple of my friends' parents let me stay with them until I graduated high school, and they helped me figure things out when I was turned down from the Academy. She ended up staying with him right up until he dropped dead of a heart attack. Couldn’t’ve happened to a better person,” he chuckled darkly. “Didn’t really have a family until Goose, Carole, and Bradley.” 

“So you’re sayin’ I can’t help my mama until Mark drops dead?” 

“I’m saying that you can’t help someone who doesn’t want help, Jake.” Their eyes met, and Mav could see the argument in the younger man’s eyes. “You’ve got a wife and a kid on the way to think about now. All you can do is be there whenever your mom needs help, but you need to focus on your family.” 

Jake was saved from replying when the door opened, and Rooster walked back in, kicking the door closed behind him. After handing him the power bank, he glanced at Mav before twisting off a beer bottle cap. “You don’t see shit, Captain.” Jake raised an eyebrow, accepting the room-temperature beer. 

Smirking, Mav held up his hands. “Not gonna question how you got contraband alcohol outside of beer day.” 

“Good,” Rooster smirked back, handing his godfather his bottle before collapsing into the chair on Jake’s other side. Resting his beer on his stomach, he sighed. “You got everything set up for liberty, Hangman?”

“Plane tickets and hotel are booked. Don’t have many other plans for when she gets there… if she gets there.”

“She will,” Mav assured him. “You been to Yokosuka before?” 

“Not in a couple years. Her family was stationed outside Tokyo for a few years when she was a kid, so she’s excited to come back for a little while.” 

“Any suggestions on shit to do?” Rooster asked, peeling the label from his bottle. While Jake knew they were trying to distract him, he couldn’t help but feel thankful for it as he watched his phone battery level rise. Finally, you texted that you were being brought back to an exam room. 

When Jake put his phone on speaker, he bit the inside of his cheek when he heard Sloane’s strong heartbeat. “Everything looks good,” the PA said. “Baby’s heartbeat sounds good; Mom’s blood pressure is slightly elevated but is headed back to normal range.” 

“They’re both okay?” Jake asked, wishing the internet signal in the classroom was strong enough to do a video call. 

“Yes. Just watch the stress levels and take it easy for a bit.” After you agreed to do that, Jake reluctantly hung up after promising a video call tomorrow. 

Later, Jake stood in the shower, his head tilted back so the spray hit his face and washed away his tears. He could hear Rooster and Fritz talking in the room and knew that they would soon be headed to the mess for dinner. He’d decided against going with them, needing some time alone.

Two knocks on the bathroom door let him know they were leaving and the room was empty. He waited another minute before getting out, quickly dressed in basketball shorts, and retreated to his bunk.

Lina had called, probably in response to the text he’d sent before showering. But he didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. He’d made it clear to his mama and sister - he was done with Mark. If he so much as looked at his wife or kid, Jake would end him. He was not going to stand for raising a hand to his wife. And if they wanted anything to do with Jake or his family, they wouldn’t mention Mark or bring him anywhere near them. If they did, they would be just as dead to Jake as Mark was. 

Ignoring Lina's text demanding a call, Jake retrieved his laptop and pulled up your flight itinerary. With a few clicks, he upgraded your tickets to Japan and back home. He knew you wouldn’t be happy to see the price on the next credit card statement, but it didn’t matter. He would deal with your upset if it meant that you were comfortable while flying.

Two weeks, Jake thought, setting aside his laptop and turning in his small bunk. Two weeks until he could stretch out on a proper bed with his wife by his side. Two weeks until he could feel his daughter move. 

Two weeks until he had the only family that mattered. 

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

Author's Note: Not technically a chapter, but including the tag list because this provides a lot of backstory for Jake. And I am definitely in agreement with the comparison of Hangman being Mav, and Rooster being Ice.

Tag list: @mamachasesmayhem; @memeorydotcom; @alldaysdreamers; @kmc1989; @djs8891; @caitsymichelle13; @dempy; @midnightmagpiemama; @lovelyladymayyyy; @caidi-paris; @a-court-of-roscoe-and-baby; @bellaireland1981; @lethargicluv; @tenderclio; @lucypaulette; @abaker74; @trhett21; @misshoneypaper; @schreksdoubledeckerhomechecker; @eternallyvenus; @mavrellover91; @chloeforde; @thatbitcily; @rest-of-brazilian-wax; @percysaidnever; @harperdoodle; @hardballoonlove; @maeleeme; @emma8895eb; @xoxabs88xox; @queenslandlover-93; @memoriesat30; @queerqueenlynn; @capswife; @regsg18; @boisewaffles; @fudge13; @starkleila

#hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x reader #top gun fic #top gun maverick #jake seresin #Hangman top gun #soft!Jake Seresin #hangman smut #hangman fic #D-Day fic #jake hangman seresin

[crow-cap]

ace from “mark for mark and sin for sin” by @midnightluck. it’s a delightfully painful sickfic with a twist on the regular tropes

#crowcraft #one piece ace #one piece #opc #fire fist ace #portgas d ace #read the fic. cried. banged this out in a time crunch #ive got to go back to literal hell on monday and i wont be able to sit at home and draw all day. pain and suffering #ok I’m tired. posting this then it’s sleep time #oh #tw suicidal ideation #it’s not?? I guess??? I don’t know how to tag for this #portgas d. ace #if I hate this in the morning it’s going. I’m breaking the sacred rule of ‘don’t draw the same night as posting’

[acadjonne]

so hear me out

tim drake and danny fenton are twins

jack drake really did have a brother named eddie, once upon a time. eddie drake also had a wife, and she was expecting twins, but of course gotham is gotham. right before the twins would be born, eddie died, but his wife was brought to the hospital and lived long enough for the twins to be born.

jack and janet drake adopt the older twin, tim, because people knew that eddie and his wife were going to have a baby, and they had been considering having a kid themselves. but no one knew the drakes were expecting twins, and jack and janet don’t want two babies, so they arrange for the younger twin to be anonymously given up.

well, through some insane miscommunication, the other twin ends up in illinois, where he’s adopted a few months later by jack and maddie fenton. of course, because danny was given up anonymously, there’s no information whatsoever about his birth family

tim finds out he’s got a twin when he’s eleven or twelve by finding his birth certificate and an ultrasound print in his father’s safe. he starts looking for his twin, but doesn’t find a whole lot on his own.

(even when tim becomes robin, he never thinks of mentioning his twin to bruce.)

when they’re 14, tim meets sam manson at a gala in gotham. she’s originally from gotham as well, but moved to amity park as a kid, so this was her first time back in a long time. danny had just recently found out he was adopted, so of course when sam sees tim and he looks exactly like danny, she puts two and two together and approaches tim.

once sam gets back to amity, she puts danny and tim in contact. they agree that it sounds super unlikely on paper since danny was found in a hospital in chicago, while tim was born in gotham, and danny’s birthday is a couple days off from tim’s because no one knew exactly what day he was actually born, but they also look way too much alike for it to be coincidence.

of course, before they can get a dna test done, danny’s portal accident happens, and he gets super squirley about it after that whenever tim mentions it. plus they’re both minors and the drakes are never around to actually consent to it so it would be kinda weird for tim to insist on a dna test at that point.

but they stay in touch for the next few years, both expertly dodging any mention of their hero activities, and even manage to meet up for their sixteenth birthday. they hang out for a weekend in cleveland because it’s neutral ground, pretty much right smack in the middle between amity park and gotham. then, a few weeks after the events of d-stabilized, shit hits the fan.

valerie knows vlad is also plasmius, and after giving (dani) ellie a good head start, she starts going after him, outing him to the whole town in the process. of course, vlad assumes danny is the one who told valerie, so he outs danny as phantom as well. vlad manages to shake valerie, the fentons, and the giw, but danny isn’t so lucky, and gets captured by the giw.

of course, once they find out he’s been captured, sam, tucker, and jazz start planning to break him out and get him somewhere safe. obviously they can’t take danny to either the manson or foley houses, the giw would check there first, and they can’t take him to jazz’s college dorm either. gotham has a lot of ambient ectoplasm though, and the giw (probably) wouldn’t go anywhere near batman’s territory even with the anti-ecto acts, so sam calls tim and asks if they can take danny to him once they rescue him.

of course, tim had no idea about anything going on in amity park, not that team phantom knew that. turns out the giw have been covering things up forever, and the extremely high ectoplasm leaking from the fentons’ portal doesn’t help either. but of course sam assumes he knows because most of amity park is actively protesting against the giw and demanding danny’s release and it’s about to start getting violent any second now, and if it’s such big news in amity then of course tim knows danny is phantom by now, right?

but tim’s able to keep hold of himself long enough to let sam know that yes, danny can come to gotham, all of team phantom can come to gotham once they’ve rescued him, and once he’s let her go he immediately goes to the other bats and sounds the alarms

so queue the justice league showing up in amity park to deal with the giw, and inquiries about the legality of the anti-ecto acts and how they overlap with meta protection laws get raised, and danny gets rescued, and team phantom is evacuated to gotham.

once things have calmed down, tim tells danny about being red robin and they bond over hero stuff. danny fixes jason’s pit-induced anger problems because holy shit dude your ectoplasm is rancid. bruce of course takes on look at danny and decides to adopt him.

anyway, thanks for coming to my ted talk.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #tim drake #danny fenton #tim drake and danny fenton are twins #listen the whole ‘giw and fentons find out about danny by accident and he has to run to Gotham’ thing is fun #but i think we as a phandom sleep on valerie finding out about vlad being plasmius in d-stabilized way too much #and like vlad would totally think danny told valerie since he was literally bragging about how easy she was to trick #so if valerie went after him for being plasmius he’d immediately turn it around and out danny too #plus in this case it works as a way to get danny to gotham and get him to join the batfam which is great #honestly i wanna write a fic about this but i don’t even know where to start #so enjoy my 1am ramblings of ideas that have been rattling around in my head for several days now #drake twins

[glaivenoct]

I know all he says is "I'm home", but whenever I watch this scene it always translates in my head as "Hi mom, I'm home 🥺 sorry I haven't called or visited in a while 👉👈"

#trigun stampede #vash the stampede #TristampParty #i'm behind on reading posts and stuff from the last couple days and I have so many ship 3 fam thoughts but also I'm t i r e d #im gonna write ship 3 fam fic things one day just you wait

[purpleleafsyt]

From my fic, Inclarity :>

#purplearts #chonny jash #cccc #chonnys charming chaos compendium #cj soul #cj mind #cjshipping #cw shipping #supernova #<- the reason I'm adding those is #1. the fic itself is up to interpretation/is vague about their relationship/is qpr adjacent #and 2. this was for a supernova event organized by. me on Twitter!! mind/soul day ;> #based on the eclipse day!! #bloodmoon is the 27th so expect something from me then :D #anyways. ive always wanted to draw scenes from my own fics #because who else is going to do it smh smh #plus it's really cool to see my writing turned to life through my own creation yknow #i might do other scenes too like LUVTH and BTNYCI have some good drawable moments in them