#in-flight video on demand

[amrutmnm]

Top Trends Shaping the Inflight Content Market in 2024 and Beyond

The Inflight Content Market is projected to grow from USD 691 million in 2024 to USD 931 million by 2029, achieving a Compound Annual Growth Rate (CAGR) of 6.1%. As airlines enhance passenger experiences through innovative inflight entertainment (IFE) options, this segment of the aviation industry is poised for significant expansion. In this article, we’ll explore the Inflight Content Industry growth drivers, challenges, key players, and emerging trends, providing a comprehensive overview of its future trajectory.

Market Overview

The inflight content market has evolved rapidly, reflecting changing consumer preferences and technological advancements. Inflight content encompasses various entertainment options, including movies, TV shows, music, and games, which are accessible on individual seatback screens or passengers' personal devices. This trend has transformed the passenger experience, helping airlines distinguish themselves in a competitive market.

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Key Market Drivers

1. Rising Demand for High-Quality Inflight Content

Today's travelers expect an engaging inflight entertainment experience. Airlines are increasingly investing in diverse and rich content offerings to meet this demand, with popular options like movies, TV series, and music. According to Honeywell, 73% of passengers consider the quality of the inflight experience an important factor when choosing an airline. Furthermore, 89% of travelers now view fast Wi-Fi as essential for streaming content during flights, prompting airlines like JetBlue and Southwest Airlines to introduce high-speed connectivity on their fleets.

2. Technological Advancements

Technological advancements have made it possible for airlines to deliver high-quality entertainment and internet access. Innovations like cloud-based streaming and 5G connectivity enable passengers to access vast content libraries seamlessly. For instance, cloud-based systems allow airlines to refresh content more frequently, providing a continuously updated selection of entertainment options.

3. New Revenue Streams for Airlines

In addition to enhancing passenger satisfaction, inflight content serves as a potential revenue source for airlines. Many airlines now offer premium content that passengers can purchase during their flight. Additionally, the integration of targeted advertising and partnerships with streaming services generates ancillary revenue.

Market Restraints

1. Data Security Concerns

With the rise of digital inflight entertainment platforms, data security has become a crucial concern. Passengers' viewing preferences, personal information, and payment details are stored on these platforms, raising the risk of data breaches. The potential for unauthorized access to sensitive information could make passengers hesitant to use onboard connectivity services, affecting the overall adoption rate of IFE systems.

2. High Installation and Maintenance Costs

Implementing and maintaining IFE systems is a significant expense for airlines. The cost of installing seatback screens, servers, and connectivity infrastructure is high, with ongoing maintenance and upgrades required to keep the systems up-to-date. Smaller airlines or those with tight budgets may find these costs prohibitive, potentially limiting their ability to offer advanced inflight entertainment options.

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Key Market Opportunities

1. Cloud-Based Content Streaming

The trend of cloud-based content streaming presents a considerable opportunity for airlines to deliver seamless and high-quality entertainment. With cloud technology, airlines can provide a broader and more frequently updated selection of content, enhancing the inflight experience for passengers. This method allows content to be stored remotely and streamed directly to passengers' devices, reducing the need for pre-loaded media on aircraft.

2. Rise in Bring-Your-Own-Device (BYOD) Models

As passengers increasingly prefer using their personal devices for entertainment, airlines can reduce costs associated with installing seatback screens. By offering Wi-Fi connectivity and a content streaming platform, airlines can provide a personalized entertainment experience while avoiding the added weight and maintenance of seatback IFE systems.

Market Challenges

1. Expensive Installation and Equipment Costs

Installing IFE systems is capital-intensive. Airlines must invest in advanced hardware, such as high-quality screens and servers, which can increase operational costs due to added weight and fuel consumption. Regular updates are also required to keep up with technological advancements, which can add to the long-term expenses.

2. Variability in Internet Connectivity

Providing consistent internet connectivity across different flight paths and altitudes remains challenging. Connectivity interruptions can lead to passenger dissatisfaction, as they expect seamless access to streaming services. Airlines must navigate these challenges to meet passenger expectations for continuous internet access.

Inflight Content Market Segmentation

1. By Type: Movies Leading the Way

The inflight content market can be segmented by type into movies, TV shows, music, games, and other forms of entertainment. The movie segment is expected to experience the highest growth rate at a CAGR of 6.9% from 2024 to 2029. Airlines offer a wide range of films, from recent releases to international cinema, catering to diverse tastes.

2. By Access Method: Rise of Portable Devices

Inflight content is accessed either through seatback screens or personal devices. The use of portable devices is gaining popularity due to the increasing adoption of BYOD models. Passengers can stream content directly onto their smartphones, tablets, or laptops, offering flexibility and reducing costs for airlines.

3. By Operation Mode: Stored Content Still Leading

While cloud streaming is gaining traction, stored content remains dominant. This method allows passengers to enjoy entertainment without relying on Wi-Fi availability, providing a consistent inflight experience regardless of internet connectivity.

4. By Platform: Commercial Aviation Holds the Lion’s Share

Commercial aviation dominates the inflight content market, as airlines prioritize providing a comprehensive entertainment experience on long-haul flights. High-quality inflight content has become a key differentiator in the commercial aviation sector, helping airlines build customer loyalty and enhance the passenger experience.

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Regional Insights

North America: A Leader in Inflight Content Innovation

North America is expected to hold the highest market share in the inflight content market, driven by strong technological infrastructure and a significant number of frequent flyers. The region's well-established media industry and high investment in aviation innovation also contribute to its dominance. With the demand for premium entertainment content on the rise, North American airlines are at the forefront of adopting advanced inflight entertainment systems.

Key Market Players and Recent Developments

Major Players:

Panasonic Avionics Corporation (US)

Collins Aerospace (US)

Astronics Corporation (US)

Thales (France)

These Companies have been active in expanding their market presence through partnerships, technology advancements, and new product offerings. Notable recent developments include:

In February 2024, Thales secured a contract with Air India to equip 51 aircraft with its AVANT Up system.

Panasonic Avionics Corporation signed agreements with Icelandair and EGYPTAIR for its Astrova inflight entertainment solution in 2023.

Anuvu, in collaboration with Podeo, launched the largest Arabic podcast platform for inflight entertainment in October 2023.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

What is the current size of the inflight content market? The inflight content market is estimated to grow from USD 691 million in 2024 to USD 931 million by 2029, with a CAGR of 6.1%.

Who are the leading players in the inflight content market? Key players include Panasonic Avionics Corporation, Collins Aerospace, Astronics Corporation, and Thales.

What are the major trends in the inflight content market? The trends driving the market include the adoption of cloud-based streaming and the introduction of 5G technology onboard, enhancing connectivity and content access.

Which region holds the highest market share? North America is anticipated to lead the market, driven by technological advancements and high passenger demand for premium inflight entertainment.

The inflight content market is set to experience steady growth as airlines continue to prioritize passenger satisfaction and differentiate their services through advanced entertainment options. While challenges such as data security and high installation costs exist, the industry is poised for innovation, with cloud-based streaming and BYOD models presenting significant opportunities. As the market evolves, key players like Panasonic Avionics, Thales, and Collins Aerospace will continue to shape the future of inflight entertainment.

With North America leading the way and technological advancements driving growth, the inflight content market remains a dynamic and integral part of the aviation industry, promising enhanced travel experiences for passengers worldwide.

[thinkerpedro]

Pedro's in love

Summary: During a long press tour, you finally get to see your boyfriend.

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F! Reader

Warnings: Sexual mention, pubic hair and nudity.

Note: His arms 👁️👁️

Tags: Romance, nudity, intimacy, fluffy, drabble.

word count: 506

The sound of their heavy breathing echoed like a soundtrack in that dark hotel room. Almost 3 a.m., the beams of city lights streaming into the room cast a faint shadow over their naked bodies, tired on the bed.

Pedro had his eyes closed, his hand resting on his abdomen as if he'd run a marathon. In the dim light, it was possible to see the sheen of sweat soaking his lightly haired abdomen, trailing down to his softened cock. He noticed her observation and turned his face, his curls plastered to his forehead like an angel's, as he gave her that relaxed smile, blinking calmly.

Reaching up, he leaned in to seal her lips with his. A calm, sweet kiss, as if saying everything that didn't need to be said. But he found his voice again in a whisper, the first syllables hoarse, almost failing.

"I missed you."

You smile and press another kiss, this time gently slipping your tongue into his mouth, meeting his.

"Me too," you whisper.

His fingers touch your chin and then sweep away the strands of your bangs that insist on covering your eyes.

"God, a month. I thought I'd die without this," he says dramatically, eliciting a giggle from you.

"But now you're here."

"I know, but we only have a few hours before my flight," he laments, then huffs. "Damn, this press tour needs to end."

Since the beginning of the year, you've barely had time to see each other. Dates were becoming increasingly rare, and you had to make do with phone conversations, phone calls, video calls... and when you finally did, they were dates that lasted only a day. Every now and then, you'd fly to see him on set, have lunch together for half an hour, and have awkward sex in a trailer.

He blamed himself so much for treating you like that. You didn't deserve it.

Pedro was as sick of it as you were, but he couldn't just carry you around everywhere, even though he'd tried. In none of his relationships had he demanded or suggested this kind of thing, but spending long periods apart made him despair and ponder absurd ideas. He didn't know what was happening to him; he'd never felt this way.

His strong arms wrap around you like a cocoon, giving you a beautiful view of his biceps flexing. Your breasts brush against his chest, creating a pleasant, comforting friction.

"I wish every day were like this, with you by my side," you whisper, just below his Adam's apple.

"I know, baby. I'm so sorry."

You breathe in his skin, the scent of sweat, soap, and woody cologne. A kiss is pressed to the top of your head, and soon his fingers are tangling firmly in your hair. Your eyes grow heavy, and nestling deeper into his chest, you let yourself drift off to sleep, finding it adorable how his heartbeat quickens as he holds you close.

You knew in that moment that he was madly in love with you.

[dykeherstory]

jenny shimizu talking about madonna:

She spotted me on a casting video and called me out of the blue, she asked me to dinner and I went to her house. nothing happened that night, but we both felt an immediate attraction. Then two days later I went back to a party and instantly we both knew that we'd end up in bed together. from the age of 14 I'd watched her videos and thought, ‘I'm going to have sex with that gorgeous woman one day.' and that night my fantasy came true—again and again and again. For hours we explored each other's bodies, kissing every inch. Far from the domineering, sex-crazed woman many think she is, I found her a very gentle lover. It wasn't about whips and chains. Madonna wanted someone she could trust to call when she wanted pleasuring right there and then. I was her secret ‘booty call' available any time of the day or night for secret sex sessions. One time she was doing her Girlie Show tour in Paris and I was in Germany on a photo shoot but she was so desperate to see me she booked me on a flight and demanded I go to her room at the Ritz. I was happy to oblige— this woman exuded raw sex appeal and I couldn't get enough of her. At 2am we met in her room as ordered and by 4am I was off, after two hours of slow, passionate sex. That was always how it was. we both gave each other what we wanted till we were satisfied, then I'd leave. It wasn't about an emotional bond, it was about taking each other to the heights of sexual ecstasy.

[formulaonecrumbs]

you was there before the fancy cars 🏎️

Lando Norris x hair-stylist!reader

summary: Lando Norris and his hair stylist have a close bond built over six years of working together. Over time, they realize there’s more between them.

warnings: consider it a halfway situationship (neither of them know it’s one)

A/N: yes, u read correctly. the title IS the mac miller lyric… this fic isnt based off that but the line was just TOOOO perfect not to use. hope u like this 😋😋 i’m getting a lot more comfy with writing actual fics which is nice. i was thinking i’d maybe make this a series about certain parts of his career where reader was there for him leading up to when they start dating, lemme know what y’all want. anyways, love you babies, as always ❤️

She’d been with him from the start.

Back when he was still baby-faced, barely twenty, and fidgeting like a kid in the salon chair. Lando Norris had walked in with a mop of curls and an even messier kind of nervous energy. She’d tamed both. And for six years since, she’d been doing the same — brushing through curls and calming whatever storm he brought in with him.

She wasn’t like the others. The other clients had entourages, airs, and money that dripped off them like perfume. Lando had always been different. Still rich, obviously, but he’d never worn it like armor. He wore bad jokes and overgrown hair. He wore his heart when he wasn’t supposed to. He made her laugh when no one else could.

There was one race weekend — 2021, Monaco — he had finished on the podium. Instead of going to a party, he showed up at her place with takeaway and made her watch the highlights with him, just to see her reaction. “You looked at me like I’d won the whole damn championship,” he said that night, grinning.

She had. Because she’d been there through the mess-ups too. The crashes. The P15s. The media pressure. The times he didn’t say a word when he sat in her chair, just let her fingers run through his curls, eyes closed like he needed a break from the whole world.

And maybe she needed him too. After days of dealing with demanding celebrities and influencer egos, Lando was like a breath of slightly chaotic, but comforting, fresh air. He’d talk about anything — video games, the track, the fans — and always asked how her day was, even if he was the one under pressure. He noticed things. Like when she cut her hair or wore a new pair of earrings. Like when she was quiet and needed silence more than conversation.

Then there were the little things. The way he’d wait outside her studio with coffee when her schedule was packed. The way he texted her bad puns during press conferences. How he once flew her out early for a race weekend because she said she needed a break — no words, just a flight confirmation and a note: You need this. Also, my hair is a mess. Help.

She should’ve known. Maybe she did.

And maybe he did too — that there was something sitting between them, soft and constant, something they never named.

They weren’t dating. They weren’t anything. But there was a moment — in the backroom of a garage, she was fixing the curls sticking out of his helmet after qualifying — he looked up at her, really looked, and whispered, “You’ve always been the one who gets me. I think… I only ever wanted it to be you.”

Her hand stilled in his hair. Their eyes met.

No kiss. No dramatic music. Just realization.

She smiled, small and soft. “It’s always been you too.”

And that was enough for now.

They weren’t something. Not yet.

But they could be.

[crescenthistory]

hiya, so I was thinking about neighbour!Remus and maybe Luna misses him, like she's standing in front of the door meowing, scratching etc., and reader sends Remus a photo of her and either she invites him to her apartment or he invites them to his?? idk something like that

anyways I love your fics and wish you have a good day! <33

continuation to neighbour!remus in "welcome to the neighbourhood"

wc: 2.4k

cw: fem!reader, flirtatious banter, luna the matchmaker, remus switching between shy and confident, non-established relationship, some forced proximity/intimacy over luna, custody jokes

Despite your insurmountable love for Luna, she was driving you insane.

“What is it, baby?” you cooed yet again, no longer harbouring hope that her answer would leave you any wiser.

Indeed, you received a drawn out, whiny meow in return. Inscrutable.

For the past few days, Luna has acted like a prisoner in her own home. She would sulk while walking back and forth between the flat door and the Juliet balcony door, sitting in front of them and making various upset cat noises.

You had tried to give her snacks, catnip, kisses, more water, anything – no reaction. She kept sitting by the exits, practically demanding you let her out.

She had always been happy to be an indoor cat, never complaining, which left you stumped by this sudden change. In your previous flat, there was a windowsill she had claimed as her own, where she would watch the birds outside while lazing in the sun. You often opened the window, especially during summer, and she had never once tried to go outside. 

That is not to say she wasn’t a rascal – as you had previously informed your neighbour, she was a repeat offender – but it was always contained to the building. She loved exploring the hallway at your last flat, but displayed no interest in walking down the flight of stairs or going outside. 

Truly, the only time she had been outside without you practically dragging her along was the other day when she had jumped down two stories to greet your neighbour. Remus, as he had said his name was, to whom she was apparently called. 

You, of course, could not relate.

Yet, when you watched Luna once more sit down by the door to the hallway, her amber eyes boring into you on the sofa as she loudly complained about something, you couldn’t help but think about him. Not just because her eyes reminded you of him now, the only human you had met with such feline-like irises, but because of how good he had been with her. Like putty in his hands.

He was funny too, you couldn’t deny that. Perhaps you should entertain him in turn.

When Luna made another petulant prrt! sound, you reached for your phone on the coffee table before you. The photo folder titled ‘my baby’ was already full, but another video of her antics couldn’t hurt.

When you turned your camera on her, it was like Luna realised she had a way to broaden the reach of her helpless cries, because she meowed louder than ever. She turned her body towards the door, stretching her brown paws forward to scratch at the door as a desperate meow escaped her. She looked over her shoulder once more, huffing, and making an indignant, angry sound. 

“What’s the matter, baby?” you pried. It was all the motivation she needed to fall over on her side, pushing the door with her paws as she drew out a long cry.

Without watching the video back – not wanting to overthink yourself – you opened your text messages with Remus and sent it to him, along with the text, “I think you broke my cat.”

You closed your phone once it was sent, almost running away from it to go pick Luna up into a forced cuddle. She complained for but a second before she leaned into your shoulder and began purring; she had never been able to put up a fight when bribed with cuddles.

You had barely been holding Luna for a minute, if that, when your phone vibrated with a notification. Luna’s ears perked up at the sound.

There is no way he has already replied, you thought, but you walked back to the sofa to hold Luna with one hand and pick your phone up with the other.

It was Remus. “Deepest apologies, love,” he had written. “Want me to come over and heal her?”

Your heart beat faster than it had any business doing as you watched the texts. It felt like you weren’t dressed up enough for guests, but at least you were more put together than the cleaning outfit he had seen you in last. Not to mention, a neighbour can hardly be a guest. Right? 

Luna made an adamant prrt sound.

Before you let yourself overthink, you wrote out, “You’re welcome to try, but I doubt it’s curable.”

His reply was instant. “Challenge accepted.”

You sat frozen on your sofa, your brain not quite having caught up to the chain of events that just unfurled. You looked back down at Luna’s sweet face, studying the lighter spots that blended in with her brown fur like gorgeous decorations to distract yourself. Your grip on her remained tight, not wanting her to run off down the hallway when your door opened. 

With her in your arms, you went up to the door to unlock it before promptly backing multiple feet away from it as if the handle could burn you. Luna must have felt your heart beating against her small body. It would be impossible to miss.

Just a few seconds later, you heard three polite knocks on your door.

“Come in, it’s open!” you called from across the room.

The door barely opened a sliver, just big enough for Remus’ head to pop through. His tawny hair was messy in a way that looked beautiful enough to be intentional, though you doubted it was, and his face was adorned with a wide smile. “Why, hello there.”

As he slipped the rest of his body through the crack of the door, closing it behind you, Luna let out what could only be described as a shriek. She trashed in your arms, making you yelp and put her down – so that she could beeline to Remus’ feet while he was toeing off his shoes.

Luna meowed loudly at him, this time without the whiny undertone, and rolled over to bare her stomach. 

Remus crouched down beside her, burying his hand in her soft underbelly fur while looking up at you through his hair. “And you doubted me,” he laughed.

“What the hell?” You tried to sound complaining, but your voice was breathless with laughter as you took in the scene. 

Remus scooped Luna up in his arms and she instantly began to pur. He cradled her against his chest with one big hand, while the other scratched her all over, making her eyes close in blizz. With your cat hostage, he walked closer to you.

“Hiya, dove. My theory was correct; seems she just missed me.”

You shook your head while smiling, pointing your finger accusatroily at Luna. “You little traitor.”

“Can you blame her? We clearly have a connection,” Remus teased. You noticed he was looking at you more than Luna, even as his fingers expertly drew happy noises from her.

You ignored the heat in your face as you smiled. “I think she’s just trying to humiliate me actually, but if it helps you sleep at night.” You stepped closer to pet between her eyes, feeling some vindication when she leaned against your touch. So you do still like me, huh?

Remus looked around your flat with barely subdued interest, looking like he wanted to say more than he was. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”

“Have you been here before?” 

“Yeah, the previous tenant, Alastor, was an old… acquaintance? Friend? I honestly don’t know, but we knew each other at least, so I’ve been by a fair bit.” As he spoke, Luna readjusted herself in his arms so her head was resting on his shoulder and she could sniff at his jumper.

You hummed in interest. “Really, I didn’t know that. I never met the tenant, or even really the landlord, it all went so quick. Should’ve been suspicious, but I needed a place, so…”

You trailed off, making Remus laugh. “Well, I’m glad to have you here. And you really did manage to brighten up the place, Alastor refused to decorate at all.”

“What a heathen,” you joked, shaking your head. “Fancy some tea, Remus?”

If he was going to stay for a while, you wanted to be a gracious host – not to mention you needed to do something if you weren’t going to lose your mind at the proximity. 

You had already begun to walk towards the adjunct kitchen when you looked over your shoulder to find his lips slightly parted while the tips of his ears were growing decidedly redder. “Uh, yes please, if you don’t mind love.”

“Wouldn’t have offered if I’d mind,” you replied, voice carefully neutral. With your back to him, you took a steadying breath. “Earl Grey good with you?”

“It’s great actually, one of my favourites.” Remus’ voice was closer, and a quick glance over your shoulder showed you that he had followed you into the kitchen, leaning against the kitchen island. Luna had fallen asleep on his shoulder. “It’s nostalgic, don’t you think?”

A smile played over your lips as you fiddled with your mugs. “I suppose it is. I’m turning the kettle on now, be prepared – Luna’s not a fan.”

Remus’ hand shoots up to cup the back of the cat’s head protectively, fingertips massaging in circles in a way you’re certain would have calmed even you. Not that you were thinking about his hands in your hair, of course.

You swallowed harshly as you prepared your tea, the sound of the kettle enveloping the three of you for a short while. Luna made a small displeased sound and Remus swayed her like a baby while walking a bit further away to put some distance between her and the noise. It felt oddly domestic for a man you couldn’t even really claim to know yet.

“You can sit down on the sofa, Rem, I’ll join you with the tea soon.” 

The nickname slipped off your lips before you could think and you made a point to not look away from the mugs to catch his reaction. Then again, he was already calling you dove and love, so he couldn’t possibly have a problem with it.

The calming smell of Earl Grey tea filled the flat, and you realised that Remus was right; it was nostalgic. You carry your two mugs towards the living room, a bottle of honey clenched between your elbow and your side, and two tea spoons held between your fingers. 

Remus sat on the corner of the sofa with Luna still in his arms. This time, her body was curled up on his chest, and he slouched back further than you thought he would normally, so it would be more comfortable for her. He was stroking her back repeatedly with one hand and scratching behind her ear with the other, but his eyes were on you, crinkling with his smile.

“Thank you, dove,” he mumbled when you placed the mug in front of him, steam swirling between you. 

You sat down beside him tentatively, body turned towards him. You couldn’t fight the smile off of your face either when seeing him with Luna. “You really did break my cat,” you said while shaking your head at them. “Have you bribed her with catnip or something?”

Remus laughed heartily, Luna’s purrs increasing as his chest rumbled. “Sorry to break your heart, but this is all her actually.”

You made a faux huffing noise, one you realised too late made you sound disturbingly like your cat. It made Remus grin – or, at least he grinned, and you were presumptuous enough to assume it was because of your antics.

“You’re right, you are breaking my heart right now. I bottle fed her as a babe, I’ll have you know.”

“Aweh, we’ll piece your heart right back together, love.” His tone took on a cooing quality mid-sentence because Luna stretched and yawned in his arms, and it made the sentiment fluster you even more than it otherwise would have.

“Yeah? How do you plan on doing that?”

Remus looked up at you through his lashes, head still tilted towards Luna, and for a minute you felt captured by his gaze. A brief moment of tension stretched out between you, teetering on something that made your stomach flip.

It was broken when Luna sneezed. 

Both of you broke out into giggles, because how could you not? You scooted closer to him so you could coo at Luna through your laughter. “My poor baby! Are you allergic to the strange man?”

“Strange man!” Remus guffawed theatrically, only extending your giggles. “You mean her new best friend?”

“Hey! I’m her best friend!” You were scratching Luna’s stomach while she was in Remus’ arms.

“Really, we should be drawing up a custody plan,” Remus teased, his eyes glinting.

Your hands stilled in Luna’s fur as your jaw fell slack, eyes shooting up to meet his. “How dare you!” you faux threatened, pointing a finger in his face. “You take that back, you presumptuous imposter.”

Remus’ cheeks appled at your reaction. He freed one hand from Luna to catch your finger and squeeze it. “Mm, don’t think I will. You should come over with her for dinner tomorrow, so we can discuss legal proceedings.”

His touch was warm against your hand and you realised his face was rather close to yours. Your breath caught in your throat a little at the proximity and at the insinuation of his invitation. 

Still, you did your best to maintain your put-on indignation. “Best believe we will be there. Put an end to the accusations once and for all.”

His amber eyes sparkled, his hand lingering on yours before he finally released you to return to Luna, who remained unaware of the debate over her. Or at least uncaring. “Careful, dove. I told you my mate’s an attorney.”

“And you’re bringing your mate to dinner with me?” You raised your brow at him, relishing in how the tips of his ears immediately darkened, pleased to be winning some ground in what you were increasingly realising was a battle of wits.

“No, that would hopefully just be us three,” he relented a bit more quietly.

You smiled at him, pretending to be self-assured and not just pleased. “It’s a date.”

Remus looked down at Luna, who almost seemed to be smiling. “It is.”

[ixloom819]

Showdown (P3)

Here’s the next part of the Yan!Sylus series! Please look at past posts for trigger warnings :)

The next few weeks have felt like hell for you, more than usual.

You wanted to stay in ignorance. You wanted to pretend that murder wasn’t happening outside the walls of the base, murder that wasn’t brought to pass by your information.

But you needed to make sure Sylus kept his word. You needed to hold him accountable. And maybe it was a way to keep yourself accountable too, to make clear to you your sins. Sylus protested at first, but you two shared the same weakness: you couldn’t say no to the other for long.

It didn’t take long for Xavier to confront Sylus. He had approached the base, clad in the visage of Lumiere. You had watched the scene through the camera feed. Sylus tried to persuade you from it, but it was the only way you could be sure what happened. You didn’t dare leave it up to your imagination.

Xavier demanded to know what happened that day. You couldn’t decide whether it was kindness or cruelty that led Sylus to tell Xavier the truth.

But to his credit, Sylus didn’t taunt him like he could have, given the knowledge you had given him. He did offer him mercy: a chance to walk away and live the rest of his life the way MC would have wanted him to.

But you both had known he wouldn’t take that offer. A man with an unfixable deadline doesn’t fear death, and Xavier didn’t run from this fight.

It was one thing to see the love interests fight against Wanderers with MC. It was another thing to see two different love interests fighting against each other with the intention to kill.

There were some things that Xavier did that you hadn’t known about and you did feel a spike of anxiety when he seemed to get an upper hand on Sylus.

But Sylus was stronger now than he was in game. What he didn’t know from you, he was able to improvise on the spot. Watching him in a fight helped you realize how Sylus ruled the N109 Zone.

At the end, Sylus was victorious, Xavier on the ground and unable to get up. You had watched the video with bated breath. Would Sylus break his word? Would the video cut out, leaving Xavier’s fate unknown to you?

But no. Sylus had pulled out his phone and minutes later, Luke and Kieran had come with a stretcher, loading Xavier on it and carting him away.

Sylus explained to you that they had flown Xavier back to Linkon to receive medical attention. He even showed other video footage and records of the helicopter flight and medical bills.

At that moment, your heart swelled for him. Sylus truly was going against his violent nature to appease you, even if it might make problems later. How could you doubt that love, no matter how twisted it may be?

Caleb’s elimination was more subtle. Sylus had contacts and important figureheads under his influence within the Farspace Fleet (of course he did). Not only that, but Onychinus helped provide weapons, both by legal and illegal matters. It wasn’t difficult to get the higher ups in the Fleet to dismiss Caleb’s concerns and demands for action.

Sylus would get reports regarding Caleb; incident reports about his increased aggression, unauthorized use of surveillance equipment, and his increasing insistence to reopen the case on Onychinus. Though you could only see it through an official filter, the conflict seemed to grow and climax-

Until it stopped. According to the reports, Caleb went from being incredibly unstable to the perfect soldier, doing every mission effectively and not diverting his attention anywhere else.

That scared you more than the previous reports. An outwardly hostile Caleb could be taken into account. But a Caleb where everything seemed normal when it shouldn’t be? That spoke danger to you, something that seemed like it would hit you when you least expected it.

It didn’t help your paranoia that Rafayel didn’t seem to be very active either. There’d be sightings of him, sometimes very near the base, but they wouldn’t last long, and he’d be gone before anyone got to him. You knew he wasn’t going to let this go - the only exception to Rafayel’s hatred for humanity was MC after all. So that meant he was either playing a long game, or he was much better at going undetected than he’d have you believe.

You had a constant creeping feeling, like there were eyes on you. It wasn’t hard imagining Caleb watching you through whatever spyware he used to keep track of MC. Every flickering shadow caught your eye and took the form of a silhouette, making you tense up each time. It got to the point where you avoided the windows and all but clung to Sylus when he wasn’t busy dealing with security threats or regular business.

You considered this place your new home, the safest place for you in this world. Yet even that didn’t feel safe now.

Sylus easily caught on to your fears and was always there to reassure you. He’d spend any time he could afford in your company. He’d constantly reassure you of the base’s security and any progress he and the twins had made. He even joined you in some activities, like making treats and cuddling during a movie.

It had been hard imagining things going back to the way they were when Sylus had told you that he had killed MC. Such a thing should be unforgivable, especially for the one he had waited lifetimes to be with again. Yet, when he looked at you with such tenderness and love, when everything he did was for the purpose of protecting you, when he went against his violent nature and what he thought would best eliminate the problem for your peace of mind? You found it nigh impossible to hold a grudge against him, to avoid melting into his embrace.

Somehow amid all the chaos, you found yourself loving him more than ever.

There was nothing to signify anything happening today. Sylus and you were on your way to the kitchen, hand in hand, to get a little snack after he’d been on his computer for a few hours. It was a brief moment when nothing weighed on your mind.

That’s when you felt it. The base rattled a bit. A second later, you heard something. Was that an explosion?

Sylus was instantly on high alert, head turned towards the sound. He looked back at you, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. You had the same going through your mind. You knew he needed to go there, that whatever caused the explosion needed to be dealt with. But you were also scared and didn’t want him to leave you.

Finally, he placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Go to our bedroom,” he said quietly, “I’ll be back soon.”

Swallowing your fears, you did your best to put on a brave face and nodded.

He hadn’t even made it ten steps before you felt a foreign body against you, quick as the wind, and something thin and sharp pressed against your throat. Your body froze, your breath hitched.

“C’mon, don’t do that…” a familiar voice drawled. Your heart quickened. Rafayel?!

Sylus instantly whirled around. You saw his eye widen, taking in the scene behind him, before they narrowed, resembling smoldering embers ready to set the ground ablaze.

“You’ll miss all the fun,” Rafayel finished, pressing the blade a bit harder against your throat. If his tone was anything to go off of, you’d say he was smiling. You tried to move away from it, but he kept you in place with his body.

“I suggest,” Sylus said slowly, “that you let her go. Now.” His voice seemed calm and controlled, yet you could hear the tension in it. It was the voice of the calm before the storm, a great force pressed against the barrier, ready to burst.

Rafayel hummed as if considering it. “No, I don’t think I will.” The playful tilt drained from his voice. “I’ve been watching you for a while. I’ve seen how much you care about this girl. You took my heart.” He pressed the blade further into your throat. “I think it’s only fair if I take yours.”

You felt a trickle of blood run down your neck.

You had thought a lot about what might happen if you died here. Maybe you’d go back to your own life, finding out this whole thing was a coma dream. Maybe you’d be brought to a different world. Maybe you’d go to whatever afterlife existed. Maybe you’d simply stop existing.

But in this moment, you couldn’t find yourself caring about any of that. You just knew that you were about to die, and you didn’t want to.

You were terrified.

You had to do something, anything, that would stop him.

Think, think-

“So you do remember!” you said loudly, far too loudly for the tension in the room.

Four eyes looked at you with utter confusion. It made you want to falter, to stop. But you couldn’t.

“Do you know what time it is?” you continued, hoping your voice didn’t betray your fear. “It’s been eight hundred years.” How did that stupid line go?! “Jellyfish are… walking naked, sea turtles are climbing trees, and sharks are eating grass for free. And now finally, finally you remember.”

Sylus was understandably looking at you like you had lost your mind. But if the growing tension in his body was anything to go by, Rafayel recognized your words. He pressed the knife harder against your throat.

“How do you know that?” he growled deeply.

You swallowed, which was hard with the knife against your windpipe. “…Because I was there. I can’t explain it in a way that makes sense, but I was there at the hospital. With her.”

The shift in his body should’ve told you to stop talking. But you had to keep going, had to get it all out. “I saw all your moments together. I know your past with her. I know that she was your heart and the one you’ve loved for centuries.”

Doing your best to ignore the knife, you turned your head upwards to meet Rafayel’s gaze. He was wearing his assassin’s outfit, so only his gorgeous pink-blue eyes were visible.

“I know how much you loved her,” you told him, trying to convey all your sincerity into your face and voice, “and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry because… I’m the reason she’s dead.”

You heard Sylus inhale sharply. “Don’t,” he said warningly.

Rafayel’s eyes narrowed, searching your face. “What do you mean?” he demanded.

You stood a steadying breath. “I’m… not supposed to be here. But I am. And I ended up being very selfish. I… took Sylus’ love that he had for her. If it wasn’t for me, he’d be happy with her. He also loved her in another life, and he would’ve been fine with being whatever she needed him to be as long as he could be by her side. I came and changed that.

“And that wasn’t even enough for me. I couldn’t… accept him while I believed there was another source of happiness… of love for him. So… he killed her. And I ended up taking your love too.”

The air was still, as if the fabric of the universe was taking in your confession.

“…Why tell me this?” Rafayel finally spoke. “Do you want me to kill you?”

Why were you smiling at that? “No,” you responded truthfully. “Even after knowing what I caused, I’m still selfish enough to want to live.” C’mon. “And… I think MC would want that too.”

Rafayel’s sharp breath was a warning. But you pressed on. “I got to know her for a little bit. Not super well, but enough to know she’s a kind individual. She wouldn’t want you killing me to avenge her. That’s just not how she works. So please… just set down the knife, and we can all walk out of here, okay?” Please.

A beat. Another.

“Do you really think I’d just let you go?” Rafayel spoke in a low tone, waves of pain carefully hidden. “If what you said is true, I have even more reason to kill you. You tell me you’re responsible for her death, then dare to say she wouldn’t want this? You dare beg for mercy?”

His eyes were slits of unforgiveness. “Choke on your own blood. On your arrogance.”

His hand pushed down into your neck.

Another force pushed back.

Confusion, then distress flickered in his eyes. He pushed against the force, but it was stronger. Red tendrils of energy pushed his hand away from your throat, giving you an opening to run away from him.

Sylus walked forward, eyes locked on Rafayel with his hand outstretched. “Good work, darling,” he said, walking past you. “Now turn around and cover your ears.”

Part of you wondered if you deserved to. You had purposely stalled for time so Sylus could save you. You had traded your life for Rafayel’s. Shouldn’t you face the consequences of your actions?

But you never lied in your words to Rafayel. You were indeed selfish. So you kept your back to them and closed your eyes. You pushed your antitragus into your ear canal and you hummed.

Not a melody that would distract you or sooth you, but a singular note. One who vibrates in your head and blocks out any noise from the outside world. Your entire focus was maintaining that note, not giving yourself room to wander and imagine what was happening behind you-

Something tapped your shoulder. You jumped a bit and whirled around to face it, your nerves a mess.

It was Sylus. His face showed impassiveness, but it was a practiced look, one that he put on when he didn’t want to show how bothered he was.

His wings were outstretched, blocking the view of the hallway behind him. Was that done on purpose?

His eyes flicked to your neck. His eyebrows narrowed a sliver, his gaze clouding a bit. “We should get that patched up,” he said in a purposefully calm manner.

Your first instinct was to brush off his concern. It didn’t hurt much and it didn’t feel deep. But you didn’t have much knowledge about wounds, so perhaps it was more serious than you thought.

Not only that, but it was a sign of what almost happened, what reality may have manifested if one of you had acted differently. Maybe he needed it treated more than you did.

So you nodded and let him guide you through the base. He only diverted his attention from you for a moment to order a cleanup where you had come from.

As you walked, you waited for the grief and guilt you felt when you heard of MC’s death. Yet, you reached the medical wing and you still felt nothing as the onsite doctor patched you up. Had you already become desensitized to death?

Maybe it was because you hadn’t gotten to know him. Sylus, Luke, Kieran… you knew them as game characters at first, but then you grew to love them as people. Even with the little time you had with MC you found her to be very kind and, while you were envious of her place with Sylus, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her.

But you hadn’t gotten that chance with Rafayel. All you had of him in this world was the shadow of the knife you still felt on your neck, and pink-blue orbs of pain and hatred. Other than being your attempted killer, Rafayel was just a love interest in a dating sim. Maybe that separation made the loss mean less to you.

You hadn’t realized the doctor had left until Sylus reached out and gently held your hand. You snapped back to reality to find you were alone together. “Hey,” he spoke softly. “Are you alright?”

You took a moment to assess yourself, to make sure you would be truthful when you spoke. “…Yeah, I think so,” you responded. “I am now anyway.”

Sylus nodded and fell into a contemplative silence. You could tell he had something on his mind, but you didn’t want to push him. It had been a hard day for him too. So you waited for him to gather his thoughts.

“…Did you mean what you said back there?”

You hadn’t expected that question, though you probably should have.

You had the opportunity to backtrack. You could say that you were just saying whatever popped in your head to buy time and try to dissuade Rafayel. You had that out and he probably wouldn’t push it further.

“…Sometimes,” you admit. “It’s hard not to, knowing what your life would be like with her… without me…”

Silence, as both of you took in your words.

“…My last life with her was… wonderful,” Sylus finally spoke. “It was rough, messy, and tragic, but beautiful in its own way. And it gave me a chance to live another life. I won’t pretend it wasn’t great when it happened.

“And maybe my life with Miss Hunter would be as wonderful as you saw it in your world. Maybe I could have grown to love her despite our rough start and found a special happiness with her.

“But this is a new life for me, and that means I get the chance to make new choices. And this is a life where I got to meet and know you. And in this life, I choose you.” His grip on your hand tightened.

“You loved me despite what I’ve done. You were willing to back away for my happiness. You constantly gave love and attention, but never asked for anything in return. Even now, when you’ve been struggling with what I’d done, you never got mad at me or tried to run away.

“I choose what I do with this life and I choose to love you. You never stole anything. I freely give it to you.”

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. How couldn’t they with such sweet, sincere words? “Sylus…”

He put his hand behind your head and pulled it forward so he could kiss your forehead. “I love you, my treasure.”

Little author’s note: this was not how I originally planned this post to go. I was going to write three peats detailing each of the love interests, where Xavier died in battle and Caleb got so unstable that Ever wiped him completely with the Toring chip. This didn’t end up happening because I can’t write fighting scenes to save my life (as you could probably tell) and I wasn’t confident enough in the hypothetical inner machinations of the Farspace Fleet/Ever to write Caleb’s part properly, so I went with this. I changed Xavier’s fate because I figured it’d be better for Sylus’ character to do his best to keep his promise, and Caleb’s ending stayed the same but hopefully I made it a more subtle presentation. The reader and Sylus aren’t going to know what happened to Caleb so they’ll still be wary of him, but I’m not planning on him being a threat anymore. I hope you’ve been enjoying the series!

[hoondrop]

i kind of see sunoo as a mean dom or switch may i request for an idol!bf coming home to you after an overseas concert :000

anon,, yess!! I see it too!! he fits the mean dom agenda so we'll i love it!!

You barely heard the door shut before you felt it; the heavy, electric silence that followed his presence. You looked up from the bed, heart skipping, and there he was.

Sunoo, fresh off a flight, still in black jeans and a slightly rumpled designer coat, eyes dark and unreadable.

You barely had time to breathe his name before he crossed the room and pushed you flat against the bed, his body hovering, lips brushing your ear.

"Spamming me with naughty pictures and videos? knowing I was flying home tonight?” His voice was low, accusing, almost amused. “You missed me that badly, baby?”

You opened your mouth to answer but he was already on you. his mouth hot, demanding, leaving bruises down your neck as his hands dragged the hem of your nightshirt up.

“You think I would just let you be?” he growled against your skin, his thigh pressing between yours, grinding. “Acting sweet while your fingers were in your panties, huh?”

You whined, hips lifting instinctively, but Sunoo grabbed your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand. “Nuh-uh, not tonight. You don’t get to touch me... not yet. You’re gonna lie there and take everything I give you. Understand?”

“Y-Yes, Sunoo.”

He clicked his tongue. “Try again.”

“Yes, Sir."

A wicked gleam paired with his condescending distracts you as his other hand slips down, teasing, stroking the slick heat between your thighs through your panties.

“Such a filthy girl,” he murmured, peeling the fabric down unbearably slow. “So wet just from the sound of my voice?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He was not in the mood for patience, slow reverent intimacy. Not after the stunt you had pulled.

He slid two fingers into you, curling them just right, watching your face with hungry eyes. “You missed this. Say it.”

“I missed you,” you gasped. “I missed this — your hands, your cock—”

Sunoo chuckled darkly and sat up just enough to free himself, his length flushed and already hard. “Beg for it, baby. Let me hear how needy you are. How desperate.”

“Please, Sir. I need you. I’ve been good—I didn’t touch myself—I just need to feel you, please…”

He scoffs, pulling his hand back, letting it hit against your thigh, the flesh jiggling a bit at the force. "Lying to my face, baby?"

You find your hair wrapped around his palm, tugging and pulling on it to bring you closer to his face, a moan leaving your pretty lips at the pull.

"Want me to pull up all the nasty videos you sent? You can hear your cunt squelching.. god, you're such a wet slut for me, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, Sir... fuck.. please, I'm sorry.." you cry out, wanting nothing more than to be stretched around his cock. You missed the feeling of it - of him so bad.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’ve waited so long — now let me remind you who you belong to.”

He thrust into you in one hard stroke, groaning at the feel of you clenching around him. “Mine,” he hissed. “Say it.”

“Yours, Sunoo — all yours, only yours.”

He didn’t hold back after that.

He pounded into you relentlessly, one hand around your throat, the other tangled in your hair, your moans filling the room along with the sound of skin slapping skin. He took you like he owned you, like the weeks away had been agony and you were the only cure.

When he finally let you come, it was only when he said so. and the orgasm tore through you like lightning, leaving you shaking, ruined, full of him.

Still, he wasn’t done.

“Don’t fall asleep, princess,” he whispered against your neck, hips still grinding slowly. “You think one round’s enough after how long I’ve been gone?”

He smirked when he felt you twitch under him.

“Good. Because I’m not stopping until you can’t say anything but my name"

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #12

Danny Fenton never meant to end up in space, much less as part of a dysfunctional alien superhero squad led by a tree, a raccoon with PTSD, and a guy whose only qualification is that he’s listened to every 1980s mixtape ever made. But when you accidentally fly through a NASA portal powered by ectoplasm while trying to stop Technus from hijacking the International Space Station, you don’t really get much of a say in where you land. Which, in Danny’s case, was the cockpit of the Milano. Mid-flight. Mid-chase. Mid-explosion.

Rocket screamed. Gamora drew a blade. Star-Lord yelled, “WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?” And Danny, with his hair floating around his face in zero gravity and a half-melted Fenton Thermos in his hand, went, “Hi. Uh. I’m Danny. Do you have any snacks?”

A lot of things happened after that. For one, Rocket immediately declared Danny a “haunted science gremlin” and demanded he be dissected. Gamora stabbed him (not fatally, but like, “welcome to the crew” levels of stabbing), and Drax attempted to bond by declaring they were both hunted weapons of mass destruction. Groot tried to plant Danny in a flowerpot. Star-Lord, upon learning that Danny was from Earth and had ghost powers, decided he was now the team’s “Spooky Mascot” and handed him a Walkman, which promptly exploded when Danny touched it. Apparently, ghost boy plus alien tech equals “we now need a new comm system.” Danny fixed it in thirty minutes and Rocket reluctantly stopped trying to murder him in his sleep.

The team wasn’t sure if Danny was a ghost or an alien or some weird human mutant until he started phasing through walls and talking to the disembodied soul of a long-dead Xandarian war general haunting their fridge. (Her name was Bev. Danny and Bev played intergalactic chess on Thursdays.) Once the Guardians realized Danny could punch the soul out of people (and then slam-dunk it back in), they promoted him from “weird hitchhiker” to “full member with explosive privileges.” This was a mistake.

Danny was a space nerd, sure. He watched every space documentary, built model rockets, and could name the moons of Jupiter backwards. But what the documentaries didn’t prepare him for was being shot at by a gang of space pirates because Groot accidentally won a planet in a poker game, or Rocket creating a neutron grenade disguised as a cookie (“Don’t eat it, Danny—DANNY THAT’S NOT A REAL COOKIE”), or Star-Lord insisting they stop at an interstellar karaoke bar in the middle of a war. Danny had to fight off a swarm of brain-sucking parasites while singing “Eye of the Tiger” in full ghost mode. He got a standing ovation.

Things got worse when Technus came back, this time infecting Nova Corps servers and announcing himself as “God of Wi-Fi.” Danny had to team up with Rocket, who uploaded himself into a blender for reasons no one fully understood, to create an anti-ghost firewall using a toaster, Gamora’s sword, and Groot’s root clippings. The good news? It worked. The bad news? They accidentally opened a portal to the Ghost Zone mid-fight, unleashing the Box Ghost into the Nova HQ. The Box Ghost was immediately arrested and sent to space prison, where he became king of the vending machines.

Danny tried to explain Earth things to the Guardians. Like taxes. And Target. And what a cow was. Drax was horrified. “You allow milk beasts to rule your society?” Star-Lord cried when he learned Blockbuster was dead. Gamora tried to understand TikTok and ended up nearly assassinating a diplomat during a trend called “smash or pass.” Danny didn’t help by going ghost mid-video and screaming “pass” at the ambassador. They were banned from that planet forever.

But despite the chaos, Danny kind of… fit. He’d never felt truly understood on Earth, where being half-dead meant constant fear of being dissected by the government, but out here? Out here, people didn’t blink when he turned into a glowing, green-eyed wraith who could fly through spaceships and scream in an eldritch tongue. If anything, they applauded. One particularly wild night, Danny exorcised a Kree emperor’s cursed hover-throne live on intergalactic television. Ratings spiked. He was declared a demigod in three sectors. Star-Lord tried to get merchandising rights. Rocket tried to sell his ectoplasm as a weapon. Danny put them both in the Ghost Zone timeout corner.

They kept running into other people. Thor once landed on their ship looking for a beer and a nap, only to get into a flexing contest with Danny. Danny won. Barely. Thor still calls him “the glowing child of sorrow.” Tony Stark tried to recruit Danny for the Avengers. Danny politely declined by phasing through his hologram and turning it into a haunted Tamagotchi. Doctor Strange asked Danny to stop creating micro-rifts in the astral plane every time he hiccuped. Danny said he’d consider it.

The Guardians eventually got wind of a plot involving the Collector trying to obtain Danny’s core to power a ghost-zombie version of Knowhere. Naturally, they handled this in the most reasonable way possible: by launching a full-scale assault while disguised as a musical theater troupe. Danny, dressed as Phantom of the Opera, used his wail to destroy an army of spectral cyborgs, then accidentally set the Collector’s hair on fire. Gamora tackled him out a window. Rocket declared it a success.

Danny missed Earth sometimes. Jazz would call through the interstellar line to check in, often while holding a frying pan and yelling at someone in the background (“NO, TUCKER, YOU CAN’T ORDER CHICK-FIL-A TO SPACE”). Sam once left him a thirty-minute voicemail about ghost gentrification and the ethics of ghost labor unions. But even with all that, Danny knew he wasn’t the same kid from Amity Park. He’d been to star systems no human had seen, danced with sentient nebulae, and accidentally became betrothed to an alien princess after sneezing in her direction. He had battle scars and space memes and an intergalactic criminal record that included the phrase “unauthorized spectral possession of a judge.”

Rocket taught Danny how to rig a ship to explode using only shoelaces and spite. Groot taught him how to grow little plant buddies that helped him cook. Drax taught him the art of standing dramatically in silence, which Danny now did every time someone asked him about his tragic backstory. Star-Lord taught him how to moonwalk in zero gravity. Danny taught them all how to scream “GET BENT, YOU INTERDIMENSIONAL TWERPS” in ghost language, which they used during diplomatic missions. They were banned from another planet.

There were close calls. Danny once got trapped in a black hole and had to phase out by screaming every bad memory he’d ever had at once. He and Rocket were fused for a full day after a teleportation mishap—Danny’s ghost tail merged with Rocket’s back leg, and they had to fight like that. Gamora walked in on Danny watching High School Musical and refused to speak to him for a week. Star-Lord caught Danny crying while watching old Earth footage and tried to cheer him up with mixtapes titled “Sad Boi Vibes Vol. 1-9.”

But for all the wild, unhinged nonsense, Danny had a place. He’d spent so long being hunted, misunderstood, called a freak. But here, with this chaos crew of space weirdos and traumatized murder-huggers, he wasn’t just accepted. He was wanted. He was the team’s go-to for ghost stuff, space stuff, sarcasm, and emotional trauma suppression. He became a Guardian of the Galaxy not because he asked to be—but because he fought a black hole, exorcised a death god, and beat Star-Lord in a dance-off to “Take On Me.”

And when Earth eventually called—when the Avengers requested help with some “small ghost invasion” (Box Ghost had escaped space prison again)—Danny arrived with the Guardians, blazing through the sky like a neon comet. He kicked open a portal, yelled “SUP SLUTS,” and unleashed Groot, Drax, and an emotionally unstable raccoon with a bazooka onto New York.

Nick Fury sighed.

Tony screamed, “Why is there a tree in my penthouse?”

Danny just smiled, green eyes glowing, and said, “I brought friends.”

[marsmaladeee]

it's been a whole year since how to build an ocean: instructions by the one and only dirtbag boyband @bearsintreesofficial was released!!! how and what!!!!

as we approach the Next Era i wanted to do a drawing to commemorate everything that's happened in this one. this is maybe my biggest drawing ever and i've put a lot of thought into it and it has soooo many references to the past era in it!! so i'll explain all those under the cut :))

i love this album so so so much and i hope this drawing conveys even a little bit of that!!!

i took everything i knew about the themes of the album and tried to distill it into one piece. the band's mentioned that the album is themed around coming home, reconnecting with your hometown, feeling lost and not really knowing your place in the world. so they're stranded in the middle of the ocean on a boat and trying to navigate their way back home!! haha. it's based more directly on a line from idwba - "when i step onto that ferry, and the man demands his pay". initially i had the boatman charon in the drawing too, but i ended up taking him out as it was kind of confusing!

i wanted it to have a kind of whimsical, fantastical vibe so there's a tree growing out of the boat. why? just for funsies!! on a qna i asked what the band thought the biggest visual symbols from this era were, and they answered maps, the ocean and scrapbooky vibes, so i've given the ocean is a big feature in the drawing. that's what the album's named after!! . callum and george are reading through some maps (callum's are screenshots of croydon on google maps or OS maps of the croydon area, and george is holding the map from the album cover). for the scrapbook vibes i've made a version that looks a bit like a scrapbook page, and a regular version as well.

over on iain and nick's side there's the cake callum baked for the baby shower announcement stream. there's a vase full of daffodils like from that one photoshoot. there's the banner they used to announce ttllm on tiktok, dj l8 nite kitten's head from the iwfc mv, and iain's infamous jleeves. there's two books in front of nick: flights by olga tokarczuk, which the album is named after, and the myth of Sisyphus by albert camus, which is referenced in injured crow. iain is drinking coffee with a raven flying above them whilst nick drinks hot chocolate, and there's also a crow with a bandaged wing - an injured crow, if you will :)

beside callum and george there's the giant mechanical skull callum gave to george on stage, the wizard hat nick had on tour and the bubble gun from the seaside tour. there's also George Jr, the raccoon hand from the spill the beans challenges on the subathon, and the chillies which were also from the subathon. there's also a can of chickpeas. this one's a funny one because iain actually told me to put it there themself! not even a joke!! i asked for an object to put in the drawing and they said a vase (which holds the daffodils) and a chickpea. i drew a can of chickpeas instead because a singular chickpea kind of just got lost in the drawing.

on the back wall of the boat there's a number of engravings. behind nick there's a bike for cycling, jaded - a song that was meant to go onto htbaoi but never made it - and a line from your favourite coat which was used as a clue for the arg leading up to the album announcement (thanks to @asherapparently for sending me that!!). the engravings on the far right side are the lil ghost from the ttllm music video, and the boatman taken directly from the album cover. i mentioned before that i had to omit him from the drawing so i thought i'd pay homage to him here.

finally, there're paper aeroplanes from your favourite coat, confetti for all you get is confetti, and the sign says '463 miles', like the bus route mentioned in henry says. on the side of the boat are a number of photos taken from instagram & twitter posts from this era, and the symbols from the album cover and the back of the vinyl are engraved onto the side of the boat - each one representing a different song. the streamers tied to the tree are in all the colours of the album.

bears in trees if you see this - your album is beautiful and wonderful and i love it dearly!!!

[trickphotography2]

D-Day by TrickPhotography | Chapter 21

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x female!reader

Word count: 6.1k

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 20 | Series Master List | Ao3

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

Chapter 21

The Jeep was silent, except for the road noise. Javy adjusted his grip on the wheel, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he stared straight ahead.

Your eyes darted over to him, a smile teasing the corner of your lips as you rubbed your belly. “You alright, Javy?” 

His throat bobbed, eyes flitting to meet yours before returning to the road. “I can’t watch you shit on the table.”

A mortified laugh burst from your mouth as you blushed. “I don’t want you to see that either. I mean, hopefully, it doesn’t happen, but - ”

“Don’t say ‘butt,’” he groaned.

“However,” you corrected, “fingers crossed, Mom will tap you out by the time I get to the pushing stage.”

“Thank god. I love you, and I love baby Seresin-Machado” - he’d placed a hand on your belly during the parent introductions and enjoyed the appreciative looks from the other moms when you corrected them about him being the godfather - “but watching you give birth might put me off sex forever.”

Smiling, you shifted in your seat and shook your head. The first birthing class had been interesting. Most of the time had been spent watching a movie you hadn’t seen since 8th grade - The Miracle of Birth. While mildly traumatizing to watch as a middle schooler, it was worse seeing it now, knowing that you were a few short weeks away from experiencing it. 

But what was even more amusing was watching Javy squirm. He silently gagged, hand over his mouth as he white-knuckled watching the baby crown. “Didn’t you watch it in sex ed or something?”

“No!” he huffed. “We got a banana and condom, and how to make sure that didn’t happen.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking out your phone and hitting record. “Hey Jake - you wanted an update on how the classes went. Just here to tell you that we’ve traumatized your best friend.”

“Hangman,” Javy’s voice was solemn, and you flipped the camera toward him. His eyes darted away from the road briefly. “You owe me. This was worse than some of the shi- stuff…” he corrected with a grimace “that we saw during second class Spring Break.”

“Oh god, do I even want to know?” you asked. His answering grin was teasing.

“Your husband was pretty much the worst when we were in the Academy. And flight school. And FRO��� actually, he’s just the worst in general. Why’d you marry him again?” 

“He got me pregnant.” 

“Well, he clearly didn’t pay attention in sex ed,” Coyote laughed, and the camera panned back to you. Jake couldn’t help but smile at the sight. You were smiling - really smiling, the corners of your eyes and nose crinkling - as you rolled your eyes. 

“Your daughter demands a baked potato, so we’re heading to dinner. I’ll talk to you later. Love you!” You blew a kiss at the camera before the video stopped. The text had been waiting for him when he got off duty, and he wished it wasn’t too late to call. 

Jake anxiously counted the days until he got home. It felt like a race against time, especially when you hit 35 weeks pregnant in a few days. While you and Dr. Shearer had said that Sloane didn’t seem like she would arrive anytime soon, he could only hope that his daughter listened to him and held on for as long as possible. And instead of hurrying home to your side, he was stuck in Japan again, the carrier taking its slow route back to the US. 

But it wasn’t just a race against time to get home for the birth that was keeping him up at night - Jake felt the gut-wrenching need to get home to you. 

Guilt had eaten at him since seeing you cry on Christmas and worsened with the talk the day after. While he knew the deployment was hard, you’d done a good job hiding how much you struggled. Jake hated himself for not catching it. For not questioning when you were up late when he texted, only relishing the opportunity to talk to you. Not noticing that the smiles you sent him in pictures and videos didn’t seem genuine or asking about the tears he sometimes thought he saw. Allowing himself to be distracted when you changed the subject the few times he tried to get a straight answer out of you. 

“We didn’t even know each other when we got married.”

His ex-wife’s words, casually stated but sharp as knives, taunted him. And, as much as he tried to drown them out, doubt crept in whenever he thought about you hiding your feelings from him. 

Yes, the situation was different. You’d been together for over a year, not just three months, when you got married. And he’d thought about proposing for a while instead of it being a drunken decision. 

But you were pregnant when he finally did it. Jake couldn’t bring himself to regret Sloane - he loved his little girl more than he ever thought was possible for someone he hadn’t met yet - but… would you have said yes if she wasn’t a factor? 

“We’re not going to sweat the short deployments.”

You’d said that before he went to Vegas for two weeks. Right before calling him on his shit… trying to pull away when he realized he’d fallen hard for you. Bracing himself for another relationship ending because of his career. 

Jake never thought you’d cheat, even though that’s where you’d thought his mind went. No, he was thinking about the toll being apart would take on your relationship. The two weeks away seemed like a big deal back then, but now, at the tail end of five months apart, it was almost laughable that he’d worried back then.

Would you have married him if you knew this was your future - alone, pregnant, and halfway across the world from your husband? Hell, would you have let him stay with you in that grocery store parking lot or sent him packing? Talked to him when he approached you in the hangar, phone clutched in hand and taking a picture of the F-35 tail?

Was it what you still wanted? 

Was he what you wanted?

The email from Admiral Tritz hit his inbox sometime overnight, congratulating him on being approved by the selection board to promote to Lieutenant Commander. Just like he’d promised after dropping the bomb that Jake was deploying on short notice. The official list wasn’t released - there was no notice from NAVYADMIN, and that wouldn’t go out until May - but Tritz had said he would be merit-promoted for the next fiscal year. 

Accepting the promotion and pinning on those oak leaves would require reenlistment. After completing his initial service commitment, his current contract had only a year and a half left.

By the time the list was officially published, he would have just one year before never having to put you through another deployment. You wouldn’t have to worry about moving - they wouldn’t give him orders with so little time left - so you wouldn’t have to leave a job you liked. You could buy a house in Lemoore or any place of your choosing.

Sloane could grow up in one place instead of moving around every few years like the two of you had. 

Jake would be there to watch his little girl grow up, not missing months of her life when he deployed. 

Before, accepting the promotion wouldn’t have been a question - he’d always imagined himself serving his 20 years, if not more. The Navy was a way of life, and Jake Seresin felt the most alive sitting in the cockpit. 

But that was before you.

Before he fell in love and realized how hard being apart was. Before discovering he would be a father and only having a few days to be part of the pregnancy. Before realizing what it meant to be away from his wife and kid for long periods. 

In times like this, Jake wished he had someone to talk to about juggling family life and a military career. While a few people in his squadron had kids, he didn’t feel close enough to ask them how they managed, and none of his close friends had them. As much as Mav was a mentor as an aviator, he hadn’t been around to help raise his soon-to-be stepdaughter. The idea of asking his father was laughable and served more as a cautionary tale of what not to do. 

But as Jake changed into his PT gear for a workout after making plans to meet up with Rooster in the wardroom for dinner, it dawned on him that he did have someone he could talk to.

Sorry for the early text, but do you have time to talk this weekend?

Even though it was almost three in the morning in Florida, the message was read immediately, and a text bubble popped up.

Everything okay? 

Shit. He probably thought that something was wrong with you or the baby. Quickly, Jake responded - Yeah, everyone’s fine. I just wanted your input on something. 

I’m free now. I'm just enjoying my coffee before work.

After hesitating, he sat at his desk and called his father-in-law. The call was answered on the first ring.

“Hey, Jake. What’s on your mind?” 

Shifting on the couch, you shrugged, “I don’t know.” Helen didn't say anything. You hated the silence. To stall, you sipped your decaf coffee while thinking through her question. “I just…I had ideas for how our first big deployment would go.”

“Such as?" 

“Not being pregnant,” you smirked. “Sending sexy pictures in care packages, talking when we could… it wouldn’t be a big deal. I’d keep living my life, and he would live his.”

“Your husband doesn’t find you sexy?”

Snorting, you blushed. You recalled him bending you over the bathroom vanity, making you watch as he fucked you in that damn cowboy hat and told you how sexy you were. Jake stroking his cock in the shower when you visited, his gaze drinking you in. His words echoed in your ears - “Mama, I’ve dreamed about this.” 

“He’s…” you cleared your throat, “fine with how I look.” The corner of Helen’s mouth twitched as she raised an eyebrow. Your blush deepened, thinking of all the pictures and videos he’d taken in the hotel room, whispering how they would join his rotation. “My husband is stuck in a floating city in the middle of the ocean with most of the other people being men. Turning him on wasn’t exactly hard. I’m just lucky - ” you cut yourself off. 

“Lucky?” she prompted.

You took a deep breath and leaned forward, placing the coffee on the table. “Jake was married before, and his ex cheated on him when he was deployed. He worried a lot about that and her health stuff their whole marriage. And his dad cheated on his mom all the time - they’re a whole different set of problems,” you added with a roll of your eyes. “So he is huge on not cheating. Which, of course, I would never do. And he would never. But my husband is really attractive.” Pulling out your phone, you flipped through your pictures, smiling as you landed on one of him mowing the lawn shirtless. Helen’s eyes flicked toward it when you turned the phone around. “I see the looks he gets. I trust him, but…”

“You don’t feel attractive.” 

Nodding, tears welled in your eyes, and a spike of irritation shot through you. “I hate this. I’m not this girl - I don’t need male validation to feel good about myself. I don’t need a man for anything! And yet I find myself sitting here, fucking crying because Jake's gone, and I feel like shit, I’m not happy, and I’m really fucking lonely. And I just…” Hot tears fell as you bit your lower lip, trying to hold back a sob. Helen leaned forward and held out a tissue box. Taking one, you dabbed at your eyes and nose. “I thought it’d be easier. I thought I could handle being alone and doing all this because I saw my mom do it.”

“You’re not meeting the standard you set for yourself.” 

“I told Jake I could do this, and I’m... I’m failing at it.” Blowing out a breath, you shook your head. “I-I’m making this harder on him than it has to be. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me falling apart at home.”

“You’re not as important as his job.” 

“No. I mean, yes,” you quickly corrected, twisting the tissue into knots. “Maybe? In a different way.” Helen stayed silent, tilting her chin to invite you to continue. “His job is dangerous, and he loves it. But all it would take is a split second for something to go wrong. For him to get distracted and pull his focus away. A-and…”

“You’re a distraction.” Unable to speak around the lump in your throat, you nodded. “Have you spoken to your husband about how you’re feeling?” 

Sloane’s foot tapped your fingers, and you smiled faintly at the memory of his words on the trip she’d been conceived on. How he’d used your question about if the mission was dangerous as the opening to negotiations to get married. “He’s one of the best. He’d tell me not to worry.” 

“I’ll take that as you haven’t told him?” When you nodded, she set aside her notepad and pencil. “It’s easy for someone we love to tell us not to worry, but it doesn’t make it go away. Did you feel like this before you were pregnant?”

“Not as badly. I worried, but it wasn’t like this.” Helen nodded.

“Different things can contribute to increased anxiety. There are biological factors - hormone and neurochemical changes - that you can be experiencing. We can work with your doctor on medications for those or get you referred to a psychiatrist if you’d prefer specialist care. However, your environment and experiences can also be a contributing factor. Have you heard of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy?” 

“No.”

She grabbed her notebook and flipped to a blank page, writing three words and drawing arrows between them. “CBT looks at the relationship between our thoughts, emotions, and behaviors and how they influence each other. For example, let’s say I’m at work and have a thought that I’m not good at my job. What emotions might that bring up?”

“I don’t know… embarrassment.”

“That’s one. What about others?”

“Frustration, anger… resentment?”

“Maybe fear?” Helen offered, and you nodded. “So these emotions are brewing,” she pointed at ‘emotions’ on the page before moving her pencil to ‘behaviors.’ “How might those emotions show up in my work?”

“Not volunteering for stuff or calling out to avoid the problem.”

“Maybe isolating as well? Quitting?”

“That seems pretty extreme.”

“It does,” she agreed. “But if I continue to have this thought of ‘I’m not good enough’ and these emotions of embarrassment, frustration, anger, and resentment circling in my brain, that thought gets coded in there. It can create what we call a schema or a core belief. Core beliefs are our mental shortcuts in interpreting the world and spin off automatic thoughts. What comes to mind when I use that term?”

“Subconscious thoughts,” you said, putting your hands on your belly when Sloane kicked. “Intrusive ones, maybe?”

“Automatic thoughts are just our brain processing stimuli as we go about our day - they can be good, bad, or neutral depending on the situation. It all depends on how we interpret that thought by running it through our core beliefs. Going back to the example, let’s say I mess up at work. With that core belief of ‘I’m not good enough,’ what kind of automatic thoughts might shoot out?”

“It’s more proof I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“Yup. And it loops in all of those negative emotions we talked about earlier. So what we want to do is challenge those thoughts - push back on them to change our emotions and behaviors. How might I challenge that thought of messing up as more proof that I don’t know what I’m doing?”

“Mistakes happen.”

“‘To err is human’ and all that,” Helen smiled. “I can give myself a break. By thinking of an alternative realistic thought, I’ve pushed back on a cognitive distortion - a mental bias or flawed thinking. Like perfectionism, or ignoring the positive things in favor of focusing on the negative.” Taking a breath, she set her notepad down and leveled you with a look. You tensed. “Would you be okay if I share some things I’ve picked up on in our last few sessions?”

“Sure,” you said hesitantly. 

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you see yourself as a very independent person.”

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“No,” Helen said quickly. “Independence is a good thing. However, it can cause some… friction… when your desire for autonomy and self-reliance butt up against situations where having a partner or someone to rely on might be beneficial. When you fixate on how you think things should be done, rather than how they are.” You just stared at her for a long moment.

“So you’re saying I’m stubborn.” The words fell from your lips, an accusation you’d heard many times. 

“You have high expectations for yourself. From what we’ve discussed, a lot of responsibility fell on you at a young age. When your dad deployed, it was just you and your mom, and you moved a lot. And that combination instilled a lot of independence in you. It made it easier for you to adapt to new situations and face challenges and made you stronger. And” - she tilted her head again - “you got a front-row seat to see how the military can influence a marriage. That up-close view contributes to your black-and-white thinking - you expect yourself to be that perfect spouse where you are independent and don’t need your husband because otherwise, you’re failing and letting him down by wanting and needing that extra support. You’re not allowing for the grey area, where you may succeed in some aspects but struggle in others. And, at the same time, you’re also measuring yourself against Jake’s ex-wife and allowing that to shape your belief about how to be the best partner for him - one who doesn’t place demands on him or cause additional stress.” 

You blinked at her, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks. “And here I thought I just had control issues,” you said, trying and failing to sound flippant. 

Helen leaned forward and offered you the tissue box. It took you a moment to realize your cheeks were damp again. “Control and perfectionism go hand in hand. Those cognitive distortions won’t be confined only to your marriage but will show up in other aspects of your life. Normally, I wouldn’t tell a client that all at once. But does any of that ring true?” 

Clearing your throat, you nodded. “M-my therapist in college said something kinda similar. But am I… are we,” your hand fell to your stomach again. “Am I setting my daughter up for the same problem? Raising Sloane, knowing that Jake will be gone at times?” 

Helen encouraged you to do something to take care of yourself after the session. Leaving her office, you cried in the car, overwhelmed and happy you’d taken the rest of the day off. The house was too quiet when you got home, and you quickly changed out of your work clothes for something more comfortable. Sitting before the television, you let your eyes blur, thinking what you could do for yourself. Reuben had swung by your office and invited you to the bar after work for drinks and games, but you didn’t want to deal with the bar scene. You always got dirty looks for being there, even when you were nursing a soda. 

The sound of waves shook you from your stupor, and you watched the cruise commercial before pushing off the couch. It had been too long since you’d been to the beach. You couldn’t help but think about the last time you’d stepped foot in the ocean, coral sand underfoot as Jake held you in Japan. In Florida, you’d made sure to go to the beach at least a few times a year, and always before New Year's Eve. It had been a nice way to wrap up the year, looking for small sand dollars in the surf and giving yourself time to reflect.  

Throwing an overnight bag together, you sent a message to the group chat saying you were passing on the night out. Evening traffic held you up as you headed out of town, directions for the nearest beach pulled up. It was a two-hour drive, and you had to stop frequently to use the bathroom, but it felt good to be doing something. Hotels in the area were slightly cheaper in the off-season, and you found a cute bed and breakfast with ocean views. 

When Jake responded to your text from the harbor when you’d grabbed dinner, you knew his question about the wisdom of being so far away from the hospital came from a place of love and concern, but it annoyed you. So when he asked if you were available for a call, you just texted back three words: I need this. Leaving the phone on the bed, you walked to the sliding glass doors, pushed them open, and collapsed into one of the patio chairs. Waves crashed in the bay across the street, and you let your eyes drift closed while listening to the noise from the nearby restaurant. When you went back inside, you had a few missed calls from him and two voice notes. 

“If goin’ to the beach is what you needed, I’m glad you’re there. I just… never mind. I’m gonna play basketball with the guys. I’ll try you again when I’m done.” You felt a pang of hurt and regret at his frustrated tone and the abrupt cut-off. Your thumb hovered over the second note for a long moment before closing your eyes and tapping the screen. Jake’s sigh greeted you, “I love you, darlin’. I miss you. Do whatever you need to to feel better, but don’t cut me out. Please.”

Sniffling, you brushed away the tears on your cheeks and held the phone up to record your voice note. “I’m sorry, babe. I love you, too. I had therapy earlier and feel a little… off. Gonna take a bath, so give me a call when you’re free.”

The hot water felt good as you sank into the tub, your belly exposed to the cool air. The parenting class had suggested a thermometer for the bathtub, and you’d tossed the little otter in to test it, along with some lavender-scented Epsom salts. Dr. Shearer’s nurse had given you the go-ahead for a hot bath - within reason - when you’d called earlier and asked if it was okay. Lowering yourself so the water covered your shoulders, you felt a smile tug at your lips. It felt so good to have a hot bath, even if you did have to promise to keep it short and a cold bottle of water within reach. Closing your eyes, you relaxed in the tub, smiling at the small waves that Sloane made when she shifted. 

When the timer sounded, you groaned and turned it off. The water drained around you, lapping against your breasts, and you hesitated before drying off your hands and reaching for the phone again. Using your toes to close the drain, you held the camera up and stared at yourself on the screen. Your cheeks were flushed, and your hair piled on top of your head, loose strands curling around your face with the heat. Feeling slightly foolish, you sank lower in the water, so it just covered your nipples and snapped a picture. Quickly locking the screen, you got out of the tub and dried off. The towel couldn’t wrap around your front when you tucked it around your chest, your belly-busting through the gap. Feeling ridiculous again, you took another picture before getting dressed.

After turning on the gas fireplace, you climbed into bed to ward off the January chill. The flames flickered across the room as you cuddled with your pregnancy pillow, wishing it was your husband. Grabbing your phone, you pulled up the pictures you’d just taken and studied them. They weren’t… horrible. As much as you felt like a beached whale, they weren’t the worst.

Groaning, you let the phone fall before lifting it again and flipping to your notes app. Helen told you to start tracking your negative thoughts about yourself and how you challenged them so you could talk about them in session. I feel like a beached whale you typed. The cursor blinked as you stared at the words and felt tears burning your eyes. 

I’m letting Jake and Sloane down quickly joined the list. And then they flowed out of you.

I’m weak

I’m going to be the reason Jake leaves the Navy

Jake will resent me for keeping him from doing something he loves

He’s going to get hurt because of me

I’m not going to be a good mom

I’m failing as a wife

Jake isn’t going to find me attractive

I’m not strong enough to do this

Jake is going to leave me

I’m just like his ex

I’m the reason Jake won’t talk to his mom and sister

The screen changed as you typed another thought, switching to a picture of Jake. Sending the call to voicemail, you sat up and swiped at your tear-stained cheeks. 

Another call came in, and you also sent that one to voicemail. Getting out of bed, you hurried to the bathroom to splash water on your face. The screen lit up with a text - Just tell me if you don’t want to talk.

A sob burst from your mouth as you picked up the phone with shaking hands. I just need a minute. Pressing a hand to your mouth, you met your gaze in the mirror and told yourself to stop. You couldn’t make Jake sit through another call when you were falling apart. 

Sixty seconds later, the phone lit up again. Knowing you couldn’t ignore another call, you turned on the sink and grabbed your electric toothbrush, hitting the on button before answering and putting it on speaker. “Darlin’?” 

Turning off the toothbrush, you spit into the sink and splashed more water on your face, making enough noise that Jake would hear you. But just the sound of his voice made your throat tight, and you buried your face in the handtowel, forcing yourself to take deep breaths. “Just a minute,” you said, using the cloth to muffle your voice. After clearing your throat and breathing, you said, “Hey.”

“Hey.” You heard him clear his throat. “Are you mad at me, sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Jake,” you snapped, tears starting to fall again. 

“What?” 

“I just stopped crying, damn it.” And then, to your horror, the phone rang again as he tried to video call you. You denied it. As you scrambled to call him, he video-called again. When you declined it and called him, he picked up and hissed your name.

“I wanna see your goddamn face.”

“No. C-can’t we just t-talk?” 

“No. You’re just gonna fuckin’ lie to me again and tell me that everything’s fine when it’s not. I can’t trust you to tell me the truth unless I’m lookin’ at you.” 

So when the video call came through, you snatched the phone up and glared at your husband sitting at the desk in his stateroom. “Happy?” you demanded.

“Thrilled,” he shot back. “Nothin’ I love more than seein’ my wife in tears again.” 

“You asked for it! We could have just talked on the phone and - ”

“Pretended everything was okay instead of you being honest with me?”

“I’m trying to make this easier for you!”

“Stop making it easy on me!” Jake yelled, green eyes flashing with anger. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ - just stop! Yell at me, make me feel like shit - tell me that I’m the reason you’re depressed and that I abandon you when I’m supposed to be with you. That I’m letting my wife and daughter down by not being there to take care of you when you need me, and you’re already talkin’ to a lawyer about getting a divorce because you can’t do this anymore, and - ”

“Jake - ”

“You’d have been better off not marrying me, and - ”

“Jake - ”

“Sloane is gonna hate me for being a deadbeat who - ”

“Jacob Michael!” You stared at him, wide-eyed with shock at his tirade. Jake’s face flushed, his chest heaving like he’d been running. As you watched, he dropped his head into his hands, fingers tugging on his hair so harshly you wished you were there to stop him. “Stop,” you said softly. 

“I can’t,” he mumbled. 

“Yes, you…” You trailed off when he lifted his head, and you saw his tearful eyes. “Honey, are - are you alright?”

That made him chuckle, and he scrubbed a hand down his face, his wedding band glinting. “You’re supposed to be yelling at me, darlin’.”

“I’m not gonna yell at you.” 

“You should. I deserve it.” 

“Why?” At that, he scoffed and started ticking the reasons off his fingers.

“I knocked you up and then got hit with a deployment a week later. And made you marry me before I left. Then - ”

“You didn’t ‘knock me up,’” you said, putting a protective hand over your belly. That phrasing felt… wrong. “We got pregnant. And then decided to get married a little faster than we initially planned.”

“I still left you.”

“You didn’t want to.” 

“Still makes me a shitty husband and father.” 

“I… I feel like I’m a shitty wife and mom,” you said softly.

“You’re not.”

“You’re not, either.” Taking the moment of silence as an opportunity to leave the bathroom, you settled in a chair by the fire. It threw just enough light to see your face but gave you cover to feel comfortable admitting, “I-I’m afraid you’re gonna leave the Navy because of me.” Jake’s jaw ticked, and he looked away from the camera. Your heart lept into your throat.

“I don’t know how long I can do this, darlin’. But if I separate, it’s gonna be my choice.”

Drawing in a shaky breath, you shook your head. “Jake, I know it’s been hard but - ”

“I got the promotion.” 

“You did? Congra - ”

“I have to sign on for three more years if I accept it.” You stared at him for a moment before nodding slowly. 

“Okay. We can do that.”

“Sweetheart. I don’t know if I can do that. This deployment has been the worst one I’ve been on, and I don’t know if I can do it again. Bein’ away from you was hard enough, but next time, I’ll be away from Sloane, too. Realistically, we’re lookin’ at another five years - minimum - if I do it. That’s five years of maybe missing birthdays, anniversaries, her firsts… I don’t know if it’s worth it.”

“B-but you love flying.”

“I do. But I love my girls more. And I can find different ways of doing it.” He sighed when he saw the flash of your teeth as you chewed your lip. “Say it. And turn on a light so I can see you.” 

Staying put, you closed your eyes, unable to see him when you forced the words out. “I’m afraid you’re gonna blame me if you’re unhappy if you separate. I’m afraid I’m making your life harder like your ex-wife.” 

There was silence for a long moment, then the sound of metal scraping. Opening one eye, you saw Jake pacing, hands back in his hair. You watched, wishing you were there to hold him. Finally, he turned back to the camera and growled, “I want to see you when I say this, darlin’, so turn on a damn light.” Reluctantly, you stood and moved to the bed, flicking on the lamp and pulling one of the arms of your pregnancy pillow over your lap. Leaning on the desk, he stared at you, his expression stern. “If and when I leave the Navy, it’s gonna because I want to. We’ll discuss it, but when I’m done, I’m done.”

“I can do this, Jake. I - ”

“When,” he spoke over you, “I am done, I’m done. I will not lose my family because of the military.”

“You won’t,” you muttered. He ignored you and continued. 

“You, Sloane, and any other kids we have will come before my job. And I will tell you every day until you get it through your thick, beautiful skull - you are my priority, darlin’. Nothin’ else matters but you and our family. Understood?” 

“Ja - ”

“Understood?” 

“Yes, Lieutenant Seresin, sir!” you snapped, giving him a mocking salute. 

“Pause.” 

“What?”

“Pause,” Jake repeated, disappearing from the screen as you resisted the urge to disconnect the call. When he returned, he held up a well-worn paper before reading from it. “Update four - ‘Parties agree not to walk out on arguments. Parties agree to request a ‘pause’ if necessary and will finish the discussion when cooler heads prevail.’ You wrote it, darlin’, so I’m calling a pause.” 

“Fine,” you huffed, blinking back tears at the reappearance of the contract. His having it with him made your heart skip a beat. You watched him read over it again before shaking his head.

“We never updated this. We need to.” 

“It’s stupid.” His eyes shot to yours, and he shook his head.

“It’s not. I take this as seriously as our vows, sweetheart. But we need to figure out what anniversary we’re gonna update it on.” 

“You only want one anniversary.”

“But you want two - a sentimental one and our wedding anniversary. So what’s it gonna be? When are we gonna update this instead of doing” - he paused to look at the paper again - “‘ad hoc meetings to discuss clauses and conditions as they arise’?” A smile tugged at your lips as you shook your head. 

“Pretty sure it says ‘annual dating contract’ at the top, Seresin. So that would put it up for review in a few months.” 

“Gonna have to rename it to ‘annual marriage contract,’ Seresin,” he shot back.

“Gonna add it to your list of updates you want?” 

“Yup. Right up there with you sending me more dirty pictures.” You flushed, looking away from the camera. “Mrs. Seresin,” Jake said, his tone teasing. “You have something to tell me?” 

Jake got you to send the two pictures you’d taken earlier in the night through cajoling and pleading. And when he’d started talking about how sexy you were in them, you tried to shut it down without success, which kicked off the fight again, your husband begging you to understand how attractive he found you. 

It was lucky that Rooster and Fritz were on liberty because the call lasted hours. You plugged in your phone when the battery almost died, set it down when it overheated, and your arm tired of holding it up. A few more pauses were called, and you couldn’t help but chuckle when Jake pointed out that you were both going all out for your third official fight of the relationship. 

And, as hard as it was to hear, it was good that you were fighting. Sure, your husband calling you a “creepy Stepford wife version of the woman I fell in love with” wasn’t exactly great. Still, he didn’t really appreciate being called “an arrogant asshole who would prefer to martyr yourself instead of listening to your fucking wife and letting her decide what she can and can’t take.” But for the first time since finding out he was deploying, it felt like you and Jake were being honest with one another about how you felt. About how hard navigating the pregnancy, deployment, and first months of your marriage had been for both of you. 

At some point, you fell asleep during a pause. When you woke the following day, you scrambled to grab your phone and was greeted with a message from Jake.

I love you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I can’t wait to get home and show you exactly how much I love you and our daughter. Only 6 more weeks, darling. 

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

Author's Note: Did I have to write extensively about CBT? Probably not, but it's my favorite modality to use. It was kind of fun writing Jake and Darlin' fighting because they don't do it that often, but was definitely needed to clear the air. It was fun going back through some of their highlights from previous chapters. Not to mention Jake realizing that he has a whole other family that he can lean on now, and calling his father-in-law for advice.

And Javy continues to be the best godfather.

Read Chapter 22

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[catslvrr]

hiding in plain sight

kim minji x fem!reader | one shot

Synopsis: Being stuck in an elevator is bad. Being stuck in an elevator with Minji, however, is very good.

Contains: mentions of drinking, cursing

Song: Glue Song — Beabadoobee, Clairo

You should’ve known that your laziness would come back to bite you in the ass one day.

“Alright,” Hanni huffs, readjusting her tote bag strap. “This is where we part ways.”

You shift weight onto your right foot to bump shoulders with her. “Are you sure? The offer still stands.”

“Very sure,” she laughs as she glances at the daunting stairs on the right. “Need these bad boys muscled up.”

Hanni attempts a bodybuilder pose to flaunt her calf muscles, but barely anything shows. It’s a sad display. Maybe she really does need it.

“Shame,” you sigh dejectedly. “I’ll convince you one day.”

Every day for two months. That’s how long Hanni has devoted herself to taking the stairs rather than the elevator. You’ve tried almost everything to convince her, from horror stories to bribery to threats.

“Hanni, just get in the fucking elevator,” you hiss, violently slamming on the ‘open doors’ button. It’s ten in the evening, both of you just got back from a grueling study session in the library, and you’re about to drop dead.

It’s just your luck that she’s your roommate. You forgot your keys to the apartment, and there is no way in hell that you’re waiting fifteen minutes for her to climb however many flights of stairs it takes to get to the room.

“Nuh-uh,” she sing-songs, performing a pirouette for absolutely no reason other than to rub salt in the wound. “It’s fun seeing you mad.”

You grit your teeth. “I will tell everyone that you were the one who killed Lucy.”

A gasp. “You wouldn’t!”

(It was a tragedy. Lucy was a dearly loved succulent who sat on a window sill at the end of the hallway. Every resident would visit Lucy from time to time, and there was even a Facebook page to upload pictures of Lucy and its growth.

On the fateful day, you and Hanni had just returned from a rowdy night out, and of course, both of you were a tad bit too drunk. You dared her to do a cartwheel and Lucy was unfortunately caught in the crossfire.

Somebody had posted a picture of Lucy, sprawled out on the carpet, pieces of the broken pot surrounding it. Word spread throughout the apartment and there was a solemn funeral held for Lucy. Justice was demanded but the true culprit was never found… because you were her alibi.)

“But I would,” you say with a smirk. At this point, you’re surprised the button isn’t broken yet. You’re also sorry for anyone else who’s waiting for the elevator on other floors.

“It was your fault in the first place!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’ve got video evidence.”

Hanni sags her shoulders in defeat. After a few seconds of thinking, she seems to perk up again.

“Tell them,” she declares defiantly. “It’s been months anyway. People deserve closure.”

She then marches toward the stairs. You hear the echoes of her stomping.

You see your confounded face in the reflection as the elevator doors close.

“Aren’t you the basketball player?” Hanni muses. “You should be jumping at the chance to get some cardio in.”

“I already went to the gym today,” you flex your bicep smugly and attempt a smoulder. “And I got practice later.”

“You look like a jackass,” she scoffs. “Don’t talk to me.”

She curtly turns and speedwalks to the stairs, the telltale sounds of heavy steps following soon after.

You reach for your headphones around your neck and belatedly realize that they’re missing. “Fuck!”

The steps stop. Hanni’s voice is booming down the stairwell. “What?”

“I think I left my headphones in class.”

Hanni spares you no sympathy and cackles as she continues up the stairs. “Loser!”

You groan and decide you’ll go and find it before practice later. You tap your foot impatiently as you wait for the elevator to arrive. It’s taking a bit longer than usual today. You take a few minutes to scroll on your phone for a bit before you hear a familiar ding.

The elevator doors open and you walk in, but as you turn around to press the button to your floor, you see a face you weren’t expecting to see.

“Minji?” You tilt your head as she steps inside.

Minji offers a small smile and an awkward wave.

If you remember correctly, she’s friends with Haerin, who’s your team’s mascot. It’s such a shame she didn’t try out for the team because her height is ideal for the sport. You already have Hyein as a center, but she could probably pass as a power forward if she trained for it.

You notice that Minji is wearing the bottom half of the bear mascot. “Is Haerin okay?”

“Yeah,” she scratches her cheek. “She’s feeling a bit under the weather so I’m taking over for tomorrow’s game. Figured I’d get some practice before then.”

You’re about to ask about how the practice went, but the way she slumps in exhaustion against the railing tells you everything. You take note of the glistening sweat on her neck and the strands of hair sticking to her skin. Her cheeks are flushed from the heat, but it gives her a faint glow that gets you bothered.

“Aren’t you hot?” You raise an eyebrow. “I tried that on once and I almost passed out after doing a backflip.”

Minji looks down at the bear costume and shakes her head hurriedly. “I’m almost home.”

“You’re fifth floor, right?”

A nod. You take her nonverbal response as a sign of discomfort, and so you stop your attempts at conversation.

There’s a few minutes of tense silence before a metallic screech pierces your ears. You both stumble as the elevator comes to an unexpected halt.

“What the fuck,” you say, squinting at the buttons and displays. You poke around for a bit before realizing that the elevator isn’t moving.

You turn around to check on Minji, but it doesn’t seem like she’s faring well. Her face is pale white and she’s tightly gripping onto the rails.

“Hey,” you take a small step toward her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she snaps her eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “Fine. Just a bit claustrophobic.”

You hesitantly place a hand on her shoulder and squeeze gently. “Just take your time and breathe, okay? I’ll contact emergency services.”

Minji nods again and sits down in the corner. You watch her worriedly before checking your phone. Of course, there’s no service. 

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath. You click on the bright red emergency services button, expecting static or a voice to sound out, but there’s nothing. You press again. And again. You push and hold it for five seconds.

“Don’t panic,” you flash Minji with an awkward grin. “But it’s not working.”

“Oh God,” she blanches, and understandably begins to panic. “We’re gonna die.”

She stands up, still in the mascot costume, and paces around the elevator. “We’re going to run out of oxygen. We’ll suffocate to death. We’ll run out of food and die of starvation. No, we’ll die of dehydration before that. What if I need to pee?”

The costume makes the passionate rant all the more comical. Her rambling continues as she wrings her hands together. “I think I need to pee. The anxiety’s getting to me.”

You grimace. “Please don’t talk about pissing. It’ll make me wanna piss too.”

Minji’s still aggressively muttering to herself in blind terror, so you stop her by grabbing her arm. “Hey, relax.”

That only seems to worsen her agitation as she yanks her body away from you, her face burning red as she almost elbows you in the face. She squeaks, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“It’s okay,” you wave it off with a laugh and squeeze her hand. It’s soft. “You’re lucky you didn’t damage this pretty face.”

In this brief flustered state, Minji temporarily forgets about the panic and slides down to the floor like Jello. You squat down to meet her eye level. 

“Seriously though, it’ll be fine. The elevator has air vents so we’ll get enough circulation in here. And we’ll only be in here half an hour max. And about the pissing…” you trail off and take a quick peek at your duffle bag. “I have a bottle?”

Minji doesn’t reply, head in her hands. You make yourself comfortable and sit cross-legged opposite her.

“Will anyone notice you’re missing?”

“No,” she mumbles dejectedly.

Well, shit. Hanni probably thinks you’ve gone to find your headphones. “We might be here for more than an hour then.”

You clear your throat to break the awkward silence that ensues after. “How come I’ve never seen you around? We’re in the same year, right?”

“Our courses are in different buildings,” Minji says weakly. “My psych classes are far from the engineering buildings.”

“You already know what course I do?” You grin cheekily. “You must be a big fan.”

Minji hastily lifts her face, showcasing a burning blush. “No! I just… heard it from Haerin, that’s all.”

Your grin only widens. Like Haerin would ever talk about the team. She’s only there for the free post-game feeds. You choose to feign ignorance for her sake.

“You should take that off,” you suggest, noticing how Minji is uncomfortably squirming in the costume. “I’ll help with the zipper.”

“Okay,” Minji stammers, scrambling to get up on her feet.

You brush away some of her hair that’s covering the zipper and move it over her shoulder. Your fingers briefly brush over her neck, and all you can feel is how she’s burning hot. Minji almost imperceptibly shivers and jolts forward, choking on air. You pull the zipper down and watch with mirth as she clumsily wrestles out of the costume.

Minji stuffs it in her backpack and flops back down, hugging her backpack in her lap. You follow suit and sit a few inches away from her.

“Much better?”

She nods, still avoiding your gaze. You bite your cheek as you stare at her, trying to figure out a way to make conversation. You decide to fish your phone out of your pocket and pull up a recording of your last game, flashing her your screen as you pat the empty space next to you. “You wanna watch?”

Minji hesitates for a few seconds before shuffling closer. Her voice is small as she admits, “I was watching this game on the sidelines.”

You’re filled with a sense of pride at the news. But you also make a mental note to ponder on why you haven’t noticed her around before. “Really?”

“It’s not because of you or anything,” she adamantly denies, rubbing her nape, though you feel like her red cheeks contradict that.

“Anyone catch your eye?”

Her denial is half-hearted.

You pout teasingly. “Shame. I’ll play better next game.”

You save Minji from further embarrassment and press play. “You know how basketball works, right?”

“Each team has five players on the court… and the ball goes in the hoop?” Minji frowns.

“And?”

“And… you can’t run with the ball.”

“Basically,” you chuckle. “But there’s more to it.”

You rewind the video back to the beginning. “I hope you don’t mind me commentating.”

She shakes her head, and so you continue. “So this is one of the simplest plays in basketball: a pick and roll…”

You eventually finish the video and end up versing each other on the table hockey app on your phone. She’s surprisingly competitive and it’s endearing. You then somehow end up talking about card games, and you introduce her to the world of Inscryption through a gameplay video.

Halfway through the video, you feel a sudden weight on your shoulder. You crane your neck slightly and see Minji’s sleeping face. You smile and continue watching until you slowly drift off to sleep as well.

You’re both awoken with a sudden thud. Minji practically springs off of you and profusely apologizes, much to your amusement. You look up to see a firefighter opening the emergency escape hatch.

“You ladies alright?”

“Yes sir,” you drawl, checking your phone. “It’s just been two hours, no biggie.”

A ladder is dropped from the hatch and you both climb up, stretching your limbs as you stand on top of the elevator.

“This is so sick,” you pose as you take selfies. “I feel like I’m in some action movie.”

You tilt your phone to include Minji in the photos, and you laugh because she looks like she’s being held hostage.

The two of you are harnessed on some rope and pulled up by firefighters to safety. You’re shocked to see Haerin and Hanni there waiting. Hanni practically storms toward you and latches herself onto you like a koala, crying dramatically about your disappearance. You thank the firefighters as they pack up their equipment and begin to disperse.

“Hey Haerin,” you greet her with a strained voice, trying to peel Hanni off you. “You feeling better?”

“No,” she replies nasally. There’s a tissue stuffed in her right nostril. “But I’ll be there next game.”

You gift her with a slap on the back which earns you one in return, and you curse under your breath because she definitely hit you harder than you hit her. You ignore the stinging pain and swivel to meet Minji’s gaze that is already on you.

“Keep an eye on me next game?” You ask nonchalantly, but you must admit there’s a small part of you that twinges with hope. “I’ll play super duper good for you.”

Minji’s eyes widen in surprise before timidly answering with a stutter, “I will.”

“I’ll see you then!” You leave her with a side hug (where she awkwardly pats your back) before approaching Hanni. She gives you an eyebrow wiggle that you roll your eyes to in response. She is a hundred percent going to interrogate you at home. Both of you start the long climb to the apartment.

“Karma’s a bitch,” Hanni says obnoxiously. “That’s what you get for not taking the stairs.”

“Shut up JoJo Siwa,” you glower at her, but a lame grin graces your face when you remember your time spent with Minji. “I’d say it was a good thing.”

“Ew,” she gags. “Wipe that dopey smile off your face.”

You abruptly stop and grab Hanni’s arm. She turns around in confusion and sees your aghast expression. “What?”

“I missed practice. Yujin is gonna kill me.”

Tomorrow comes quicker than you expected, and you’re buzzing with nerves as you warm up on the sidelines. It’s not an important game, but your hands tremble a bit more today. You scan the court for a certain someone.

Danielle throws you a Gatorade. “Who are you looking for?”

“No one,” you blurt out a bit too quickly. You take a swig from the bottle to wash away your anxiety as you seat yourself on a bench.

“You sure?” Danielle quips with a knowing smile. “You’re shaking.”

You slam the bottle on the bench to shut down her jest. 

“Shouldn’t you be with Hyein?” You scowl as you shoo her away. “Go be a supportive friend and give her some encouraging words or something.”

Any lingering embarrassment flies out the window when you spot a big bear entering the building. You wave her over and laugh as she trips over someone’s stranded bag.

“Hi,” you smile.

You can barely hear Minji’s muffled voice through the head. “Hi.”

Your smile twitches as Hyein and Danielle appear behind Minji and start pulling childish faces. Your glare and subtle middle finger sends them away. “Wish me luck?”

The referee whistles as a signal for players to get on the court. Minji gives an awkward thumbs up, so you accept the fact that you have to initiate contact. You lean forward and kiss the stupid bear head. It’s a bit weird, but it’s worth it because you hear Minji’s breath hitch. 

She runs away promptly after. The game starts and you’ve never felt so motivated in your life.

The other team is irritatingly good at three-pointers, but your team’s size provides you with a solid advantage; you’re able to fight back through rebounding and shots inside the paint.

Your teammates are a bit puzzled at first when you keep hogging the ball and taking contested shots, but they’re not mad because you’re making them. The bewilderment quickly turns to disbelief when they realize you keep looking at the mascot after every shot.

“You’re so annoying,” Yujin grumbles during the half-time break. “This is not High School Musical.”

“Stop complaining, grandma.” You can feel your muscles ache from the overexertion, but the goal of impressing Minji takes priority. “We’re up by 20.”

“I think it’s cute!” Hyein interjects with an encouraging pinch of your cheek. “I can’t see Minji’s face but I bet she’s in love.”

Everyone turns as they hear a loud smack that resonates throughout the building. Minji’s sprawled on the floor after a failed backflip.

“She’s so cute,” you giggle, disregarding your teammate’s exasperated groans and mock punches.

The rest of the game is a breeze, but there are a few frustrating turnovers here and there that shorten the lead to nine when the final whistle blows.

You slither away from the team huddle and plop yourself down next to Minji. She’s gulping down water at a scarily excessive pace. You wait for her as she squeezes every last drop from the bottle and lets out a big wheeze afterwards.

“Tired?”

Minji nods and gratefully accepts the towel. You admire her as she wipes sweat off her neck and face.

“So,” you chirp. “How was the game?”

“You did really well,” she admits meekly.

Your chest puffs up at the praise. “So you’ll be watching from the front row for all my games from now on? I wanna see you.”

Minji’s taken aback by your forwardness, but nods shyly.

You’re still bouncing with adrenaline. “Did you see that and-one layup I made? And the no-look pass? And the—”

You stop rambling as you realize Minji’s not responding and spacing out. More specifically, spacing out and staring at your lips.

“Kiss me,” you say.

Minji literally jumps on the spot and almost screams, “What?”

“Kiss me,” you say again simply. “You want to and I want to. What’s stopping you?”

She audibly gulps and averts her gaze to hide her dilated pupils. “No, I was just distracted by something else, really…”

You roll your eyes and tug on the collar of the mascot costume to pull her in for a kiss. You feel her whole body stiffen and she makes a strangled noise, but then she melts and kisses you back for a few seconds before you pull away.

“Your lips are soft,” you smile casually, but you can feel the hammering of your heart.

“Thanks,” Minji’s voice wavers. “You too.”

“I like you,” you continue. “We should go on a date.”

“Really?” She stumbles over her words, still slightly dazed. “Are you sure?”

You hum in affirmation.

“Okay,” she squeaks.

“Okay,” you repeat with a smile. You stand up and take her hand to pull her up as well. “Let’s go eat. The team is probably waiting for us outside.”

“Wait!” She yanks you back. “Let me get out of this costume first…”

“Do you need help with the zipper again?”

“…Yes please.”

Dedicated to user rosiehrs... hope this minji was 'loser' enough for you

[iseetheisland]

Today, I had the shock of recognizing a flight attendant in a video and getting excited that he was getting hype online because he was so lovely on my flight.

Then I realized why the video of him was being shared, it was a memorial after the tragedy last week.

I'll never get 100% confirmation when I don't remember the name of the man working on my flight, but I recognized him and his energy instantly and confidently. I never forgot him because on top of being very fun at making announcements, he also went back to the lowest class seating I was in when a young child was panicking, and tried to help the mom calm the little boy down. Not out of demand, but kindness. He hadn't seemed to be an attendant assigned to my class. But I was sure to wish him a nice day as I got off the plane.

I'm not going to sit around pretending like I knew this man on any real level. I don't even think we directly interacted aside from when I unboarded. But I always remembered him.

So I guess, if you take anything from this, just remember that all the little good things you do in passing will be remembered by someone somewhere. And if tragedy strikes, that will be how you're remembered by all the random people you took a moment to display your kindness around. People you never even knew existed or appreciated you can and will remember the good you did around them.

I may not have actually known that man, but he left an impression of kindess in the world. He came up whenever I'd recap my favourite flight attendant experiences. And I'm really glad that I got to take that in firsthand.

[msbigredmachine]

Black Sweatpants (Roman Reigns)

Why did the Tribal Chief arrive late to the Pat McAfee Show? Based on Roman's appearance on March 22 2024. Pat was forced to cut a promo on the fly because Roman took too long to come out 😂

Pairing: Roman Reigns/OC

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Smut

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

You knew he would get out there late, and you accepted full responsibility. But given the way you were getting dicked down right now, it was totally worth it.

Your blood-red lace thong dangled from your right ankle as Roman jackhammered into you, his thick shaft stuffed inside your tender walls. Biting down on your bottom lip, you wrapped your arms tight around the big man, long-awaited pleasure coursing down your spine all the way to your pastel-colored toes as he pounded you out in the corner of the spacious locker room.

"Oh, ohhh fuck," you couldn't help but cry out at one particularly deep thrust.

"Keep it down before someone comes in here," he growled. Hunched over you, the wicked gleam in his eyes watching you struggle to suppress your moans, told you he was relishing every second of your agony.

"I'm trying, you ain't helping," you whined back.

"Not hard enough," he countered, nudging your legs wider and making you watch his dick disappear inside your wetness. He slapped your hand away when you placed it on his abs to push him back because he was getting too deep. "Naw, you wanted this dick all day, you better take it now..."

When you ordered the new all-black hoodie and joggers set from Nike for Roman, you knew he would look good in it. However, when he returned for his scheduled private flight to Iowa for Pat McAfee's show wearing it, you didn't expect him to look that good. And you certainly did not expect his dick print to be on display like that. You had endured three tortuous weeks of no sex because he'd been away spending time with his two kids he shared with his ex-wife. So you were excited to have him back, and judging from that not-so-little bulge between his legs, he was excited to see you too. You could all but see it, that long, thick brown cock that time and again wreaked the unholiest of havoc in you, protruding against the cotton material and calling for your attention. But the man had the gall to play hard to get, deliberately spurning your advances, acting all platonic and professional, like the rest of his team didn't already know you were lovers. Never one to back down, you ramped up your actions, rubbing his inner thigh throughout the flight and on the ride to Field House, brushing your body against him every chance you got, teasing him right back, trying to get him to crack. As soon as he ordered everyone out of his locker room just minutes after arriving, you knew you succeeded.

Roman planted wet kisses along the side of your neck, the soft prickles of his thick beard unleashing another flood between your legs. His hulking body stretched over yours, his sweatpants rolled down to just underneath the curve of his ass cheeks for the purpose of this quickie. He was so hard inside you, demanding your pleasure as he impaled you with no mercy, his tempo hot and frenetic from the very start. His big hand slipped from your breast downwards to twirl his fingertips around your clit, your throaty whines music to his ears as your sweet moisture pooled around his fingers. The squelching noise pierced the air that was already thickened by your heavy breaths and his hips smacking into yours.

"Mmm, wet as fuck, just the way I like it," Roman grunted, leaning down to suckle on your left nipple, his saliva smearing the puckered skin when he released it with a wet pop, "I can tell you was goin' crazy without this dick, right, baby?"

"Yes, and yet your punk ass still ignored me all day, too fuckin' busy making your damn TikTok videos," you griped.

"Quit your whining, Daddy always gives you what you want in the end. Unh, how you feel so good all the time? I love it," he moaned, his brown irises rolling back briefly before they landed on yours again in an intense stare. Through the lustful haze of passion, you felt your heart thumping rapidly inside your chest as you looked into his eyes. It didn't matter if you were having sex or not; it always sped up in his mere presence.

You fell in love with him not long after you became his personal assistant a year and a half ago. You worked hard to please him, on the job and off it, and he showed you his gratitude in a plethora of ways, carnal and otherwise. You were a walking cliché, but you couldn't care less, not when it bagged you a man like that. The sex appeal oozed from his pores. He was confident and self-assured and had worked his ass off to get to where he was today. He got along with all of his team, was a decent and fair employer, and was generous to a fault, showering his staff with presents on birthdays and Christmases. The diamond pendant he gifted you for Valentine's Day currently hid between your cleavage he was kneading with his big hands. He was everything you could ask for in a boss and a boyfriend, which was honestly an impressive feat.

You placed one hand behind his neck and tugged him down to flick your tongue inside his warm mouth. His thrusts remained indulgent as you kissed hungrily, branding you, marking you, wiping out everything from your mind except the euphoric feeling that engulfed you every time he kissed and fucked you dumb. He pushed your dress further up your waist and gathered your supple ass cheek in his competent hand, lifting you right up against him. He was all up in your stomach and your walls suckled his cock greedily, holding him in a vice-like grip. The gruff yet sensual sounds pouring from him teased your core, making you need more of it, more of him.

"Awww, shit, yes," Your eyes fluttered shut when he began to wind his hips, circling clockwise and then in reverse, the head of his cock churning your sweet spot, his triumphant growl accompanying every thrust. In and out, in and out, the erotic loop punctuated by the low, husky groans of your Tribal Chief, causing your head to rock back from blinding bliss. "Ooooh baby, baby right there, ahh," you whimpered.

"Uh huh, I'm deep in that shit. Got this pussy feelin' good, huh?" Roman said, his haughty taunts disappearing in another moan as your pussy rippled around his dick over and over. He kept up his grinding strokes which seemed to intensify the throatier and more desperate your moans grew, as though the mere sound of them fueled his ruthlessness. His paw curled around your throat, his display of dominance leaving you a sopping, dripping mess as he made you take every inch of him. You were dizzy, on the verge of falling apart, and your body burned for release, yet all you could do was hold on while this man continued to destroy you, rendering you helpless and pathetic and under his heady spell.

"I'm gonna come, Daddy," you gasped. Your fingernails clawed at his forearm holding your neck, moaning his name as he fucked you harder, making sure there was no way you would last long with the kind of pounding he was giving you right now.

"Mmm-hmm, come on my dick, give it to me," he ordered, barely hanging on himself. He groaned as your pussy walls held his cock hostage, making him swell inside you as his climax beckoned. "Fuck, babe, ahhh, fuck..."

Burying your face in his broad chest, you barely kept your scream muffled as your orgasm tore through you, your body arching, legs trembling around his waist as you came hard. Time and space and coherence blurred into one sensual puddle. His heavy weight almost smothered you as he chased his own orgasm, his eyes glazing over in a telltale sign that he was right there with you. His hips jerked as his dick began to throb and twitch inside you, and you gasped at the feel of his seed spilling inside your walls, his big body shivering from the force of his release, his deep voice exhaling guttural moans as he succumbed to you. It felt so good, feeling him fall with you, toppling over the precipice of pleasure together.

After he finally caught his breath, Roman shifted back a bit to observe you, taking in your face, flushed with satisfaction, your lips plumped and ravaged by his own. You looked damn beautiful, and he showed you by brushing your mouths together in the gentlest, sweetest kisses.

"Happy now?" he smirked.

You grinned from ear to ear. "Very happy, Daddy. I've missed you. Love you so much."

"I love you too, baby," he replied with one last soft kiss, both of you moaning as his drained dick slipped out of your warm confines. You dragged yourself to a seated position when he climbed off you and hurriedly tugged his pants back up. Adjusting your dress, you checked your watch and sighed. "Great, you're two minutes behind schedule. You're not even mic'd up yet," you said, fishing out Roman's bottle of Jean-Paul Gaultier cologne from his backpack and giving the room a few quick spritzes to stifle the cloying scent of your latest sexscapade.

"Well, Pat's gonna have to wait," he answered flippantly as he raked his hair back into its trademark bun. He watched you reach for your underwear that had tangled around your foot and beat you to the punch, snatching up the tiny scrap of lingerie and tucking it into his back pocket.

"Roman!" you exclaimed.

"What? It's mine now," he declared, grabbing his gold championship belt and standing to his full height. You bit your lip as you drank him in, your gaze stopping between his sturdy thighs. You just had sex but you found yourself getting aroused again.

"Your dick print is still showing," you pointed out, licking your lips reflexively.

"Course it is, I got that thang on me," he bragged, smoothing his big hand over his groin, his body tingling from the memory of your delicious warmth. Noticing the heat in your eyes, he smiled that suggestive half-smile of his and tapped your backside. "Down, baby girl, Daddy's gotta go to work. You can have me all you want after TV tonight."

As you followed him out of the locker room and stepped into the cold sunshine, you caught the slightly pronounced limp in your man's walk, his glowing, kiss-swollen features, the extra width in his smile, and beamed with pride.

Yeah, I did that shit.

THE END

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

Another short one. Thoughts?

I have a few more Roman ones I'm working on and hope to get out soon.

Thank you all so much for reading!

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the pics and gifs.

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[smolsleepyfox]

Okay so, I attended a VERY local event where Falk was a speaker. By very local I mean there were maybe 20 people in a refurbished bar and he hung out with us after the Q&A.

Things that he mentioned in no particular order:

- PW didn't have a crew on tour until around 2008 and it didn't include a sound tech, that came way later

- they used a refurbished truck they bought in ye olden days and one time Matthew said he smelled fire. They told him it was his croissant. It was not his croissant.

- Falk is the organizer and logistics guy for the tour because (my interpretation) he can't stand not knowing if everything is going okay. Including checking the weather constantly during festival season

- he's also super nervous about his keyboards not arriving when they take a flight. Apparently they have been hidden to prank him before.

- the band knows exactly how to push each other's buttons by now and it is being used lmao

- his favorite video shoot was We don't wanna be no saints because his slimy (his words) character was really fun to play and it was a great location

- the tennis video was just a spur of the moment thing. The biggest issue was actually getting a tennis ball because the location is in the middle of nowhere. Roel had to drive to several stores.

- Yes the staff broke, but they fixed it again lmao.

- Falk has murdered at least four harmoniums by now. Most of them were from eBay. One instrument he actually refurbished himself, he showed us photos it was great.

- Also, the guitars in the Sinners of the Seven Seas video were the original stage guitars. They had to have their entire wiring redone after.

- the water corpse pose in Sinners was something he made up because standing in the water, his legs couldn't move the way he wanted them to for his usual poses. Apparently the entire shoot was very physically demanding.

- rain scenes are fine but My Will Be Done was hard because they used water AND wind, and looking chill while being pelted in the face with artificial rain is rough. Also, there were just literally people standing on the sides throwing leaves into the wind for the scene, which is hilarious to me.

- Falk was HORRIBLY seasick during the filming of Sinners. The ship apparently didn't actually move much but the difference in motion patterns to modern ships and the slanted deck was not fun. He was however very appreciative of the ship itself and the crew that worked it.

- Falk forgot the name of Demons are a girl's best friend during the interview lmao

- when i said i liked his tattoos he got excited to show them and seemed almost annoyed that he started so late in life. He's planning a full sleeve apparently (good for him!)

- I was a bit surprised but even when speaking to people who did use heavy dialect, Falk didn't switch from standard German. Some phrases still slipped out certainly and some pronunciation struggles (ch pronounced as sch are an easy tell) but otherwise nope, nothing. I've heard Attila speak more dialect in BtS videos.

- Falk for his perspective on fandom especially in contrast with Ghost and Sleep Token (I answered an ask about that recently) since I was curious if he had an idea why three bands with similar themes have such a different type of fandom around it. His best guess was that Powerwolf are kind of approachable (case in point that I'm writing this) whereas Sleep Token and Tobias from Ghost are more at a distance.

And lastly, not only did I get a picture, I got the title page of my thesis signed (in green marker because I didn't find anything else at my brother's house). And Falk got a copy of my thesis, since he seemed genuinely happy to read it. I really do hope he likes it!

Overall he was an incredibly down to earth, funny, and kind person even four beers in and very very tired. He said bye to us with a hug as well 🥺

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

John and his PYT pt.2

PT.1

Daddy kink, breeding (if you squint and tilt your head just right), as always, the reader is a black woman. MDNI🔞

Mr John "Munch" Price comes back from his deployment. I'm just thinking about him in a safe house, four whole weeks before he returns. He's had bullets rained down on him and his boys. The safe house is the first place he's had service in two months, and he can finally speak to you his pretty young thing, who's slowly becoming more and more of an obsession. On this mission, when he had time, he'd message you to let you know he was okay and enjoy the quips you'd send back. He honestly didn't want you leaving to go back to your home in America, despite you telling him to message when he could. He was incredibly put out when that damn plane took off, taking you with it, and he had to get ready to ship off on his own flight to who-the-fuck-all-kows-where. So when he knows he will be home on a set timeline, he messages you to see if you're up and if he can call.

"Yes, John?" Your voice is sleepy and soft, a far cry from the flirtatious and demanding tone you take with him. He likes you best when you're tired and pliant, not to say he doesn't like you fully awake, but this side of you, fuck, he hopes it just for him.

"I'll be home in four weeks. That means you have three weeks to get yourself home to England and a week to warm up our house." John doesn't cut any corners with you. He found out early on that you can handle a little pushback, a bit roughness, you submit to him when he's just open and honest about what he wants. He suspects it's you craving his approval, but you're too stubborn to say it and outright ask for it.

You huff on the other side of the line, complaining about him being a needy old man. You can't just drop everything because he says so. But he knows that you're smiling just a bit. There's no bite to the grumpy little complaints, and he remembers vividly the lewd little video you sent of yourself. Stuffing two fingers in your pussy and crying about how it wasn't enough. Sobbing because you needed Daddy to do it because the slight curve in his dick has you spoiled, and how dare he leave his baby girl to suffer?

"I'll transfer however much you need. I'll see you soon, Sweetheart."

🔞NSFW🔞

"Daddy! It's too much!" You've found yourself face down in John's bed on day three of him being home. The first two days were just him holding you, catching up on sleep, and insisting you tell him about your time back home. On day three, though, after you had made breakfast for him and got ready for what you thought would be a day out for you while he continued to decompress, he shoved you onto the bed and got to work.

Your hands were pressed behind you, palms slick with sweat as you tried to keep his thighs from pounding into you too fast. You're sorta glad you didn't do the whole laid edges thing and forty inch buss own because that hair would have been ruined with the way you're sweating and with the way he is clutching your curls to hold you still. The stretch of him fucking into you is glorious, better than your dildos at home or the one you brought with you as you waited the two weeks for him to get home. Each snap of his hips scoots you closer to heaven and the blinding pleasure that always comes with it.

John smacked your hand away from his thigh, "none of that baby girl." His larger hand wrapped around your wrist and pinned it to your back. His other hand, keeping a bruising grip to your waist "Daddy has to train his sweet girl's pussy to take him again and she's puttin' upa fuss-, fuck fuck fuck- arch your back just- fuuuck- just a bit more."

You do as you're told, pressing your ass into him, he hits deep, and you let out a wanton moan. "Daddy, I can't ah ah ah" train of thought lost as find finds your g-spot.

John huffed at the failed sentence, and there's a possessive streak running through him. His baby girl, his pretty young thing, actually came home to wait for him. The smell of dinner already made, his house dust free, his favorite whiskey actually restocked and waiting for him. And when you greeted him at the door, he knew he needed this to be permanent.

"You're mine, baby girl." He leaned forward, pressing tight against your skin. The way the morning sun bounced off of you made you glow, and he couldn't wait to have you at sundown riding him, the orange light framing your brown skin till it seemed like warm gold. And he definitely couldn't wait till it was only the moon highlighting you, and he was planning to have you slow, under him, with plenty of kisses to make up for the hellish three months he'd been away from you. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You, Oh John, I belong to you!" You shout as your body begins to tighten up. Your release is immenant it's been forever since you've had an orgasm this good. Not since you last were in England for your initial holiday where you met John. "Please Daddy, pleasee I'm so close." You whisper through your moans. You wonder if you even said words with how fucked out your mind is becoming. Every nerve in your body is heated up, and you know for a fact that you're actively having your sanity fucked out you. Then again, your sanity and common sense left after he convinced you to stay on vacation a little longer, and it never really came back, especially when he wired you money to come to his house and wait for him.

"Fuck baby, you're squeezing so tight, it's gonna take me all day to open you up right proper." his breathy grunts and groans make your toes curl and head spin. "I know - I kn-know ya gettin' close baby girl, just let Daddy take care of you and everything else." He has let go of your wrist and leaned down, pressing himself as close as possible to you.

Each drag of his dick through your walls has you gasping and just mumbling words that don't make sense. You answer his words with sighs and squeaks as he changes his rhythm to grinding against you. Hips flushed with yours, the hand that had been on your hip has found its way to your clit. A few lazy passes have you keening and crying as your body finally allows you to come.

"That's it, baby girl, I told you I'd take care of you." You can tell that he's close by the way he grunts out his syllables. Raw and rough and full of emotion, he kisses the side of your neck. Your hand that is fisting the blanket next to you gets covered by his. His fingers wriggling between yours so that he can hold your hand. In the far reaches of your mind, you know this is intimate. At the forefront, though, all you can focus on is his hard strokes and the stilling of his hips against yours as he came with a geoan of your name, accompanied by how he wrung another orgasm from you.

Your body is tight, as the waves of pleasure crest through you. The feel of his breath against your skin, the permanent scent of cigars, and aftershave from when he cleaned up his ridiculously sexy mutton chops. It was all too much.

"John," you whispered. Your thoughts were hazy.

"Yes, baby girl?" He kisses your cheek a d makes no move to get off of you. Once again, you find yourself hoping that your IUD is putting in work.

The morning feels like a hazy out of body experience. The next words that come out of your mouth will determine how everything else goes.

"I don't wanna go home."

[jikooklove9795]

I would like to know about your take on Jimin and Jungkook's car conversation in AYS. Do you think there was a break up?

First let me answer the second part of your ask. And then I'll talk about their car conversation.

Do I think Jikook had a break up?

NO. NOT AT ALL.

I think you got this idea about a break up cause we didn't get to see Jikook interactions during the Solo Era prior to AYS. Now, them not interacting publicly does not mean they don't interact at all. I'm sure they did meet up and spent time with each other BUT behind closed doors, in the security of their apartments. However that time was NOT ENOUGH for them who used to spent 24×7 together. Together during work hours and later relaxing at home but again together, prior to Solo Era. So, whatever time they had to spent apart was not by their choice but it was forced upon them. They had demanding schedules which kept them apart. And whatever time they spent together we didn't get to know about that cause they didn't feel the need to report it to us. They're not obliged to do that. However I think they were together in Jungkook's apartment from that time when Jimin showed up at the airport with a scratch on his arm which looks like a scratch from a big dog (Jungkook posted a pic of Bam at his apartment around this time too)

Also, we wouldn't have known about Jikook having a sleepover at Jungkook's house the night before AYS Jeju if Jimin didn't share it with us.

And what about all those times Jungkook started a live every time Jimin boarded a flight from Korea? Did they spent time together before Jimin had to get on those flights? I can take a guess.

And what about the times Jungkook did a Jimin centric live (his smile while watching Jimin in that video 😭 Thats a man in love), teasing Jimin's SMF Pt 2, his reaction to SMF Pt 2, watching only Jimin's Suchwita, vibing and singing along to Angel Pt 1.

Jungkook being excited and lighting up like a Christmas tree whenever Jimin comments in his live. Trying to lure Jimin into doing a live with him using boxing, beer and fried chicken. What about that half naked live and their flirting back and forth making us all third wheels??!!

That's not how a person who went through a break up behaves with their ex.

Now let's talk about Jimin. Jimin writing a Love Ode, "Letter" for Jungkook with Jungkook doing the background vocals. A song which conveys how he's grateful for that one person who held him through his dark times, the person who believed in him when even he didnt believe in his strengths and how he hopes and wishes his forever to be with that person.

And then we have Jimin flying to New York to support Jungkook during his Solo debut. Not only that but he made plans to spent quality time with Jungkook cause he knew Jungkook needed it, he himself needed it, their relationship needed it. All under the veil of a travel show.

They're giving away major hints towards what their relationship is. Many times with their actions and then also with their words.

Now maybe you'll ask me if AYS came about cause they were trying to get back together from their " break up ". My answer is NO. The show was a guise (in my opinion) to spend time with each other. To make memories, to be carefree and simply be with each other. Cause the time they got to spend with each other before AYS was simply not enough for them.

This was why Jungkook said " You're here". Finally". He wanted Jimin to choose him, make time for him and their relationship. Cause he's only human and sometimes needs reassurances especially when more trying times (military service) was coming up.

Also, it was their first time in front of the cameras (there were so many) without the ot7 protection to provide them a cover. So, they were probably thinking what to show, what to say, how much they should say and how much they should show.

So, yeah I don't think there was a break up. Not during the Solo Era and not during the years before that.

Does that mean they never had arguments? Of course not. They surely had. But from what I have seen and heard they resolve it pretty quickly. Their verbal communication is solid. Jimin is good in expressing his feelings and we have seen how Jungkook gets chatty when it comes to Jimin. He speaks freely and openly with Jimin. Their non verbal communication is amazing (eye contact, body language and tone of voice). They're affectionate with each other. Openly show appreciation and give compliments. Should i even talk about how much they love each other??!! There's so much of it. Pure, unconditional love. The roots of their relationship are deeply secure.

All I see is two men who are in a long term relationship giving their all to make the best out of the available circumstances. I see how in love they're and how much they cherish their relationship.

Credits to the owner of the video