Most of this is just like super duper cringe angsty Good Genes stuff ( BARFFFFF EW EW EWWWWW ) BOOOOOOOOO!!! Also idk If I’ve introduced Donnies pet ferret before???? His names Newton and Raph’s taking care of him while his twins mutated….. yikes…
uh lil silly Leo comic in there, he love his underwater AO3 time….
AND OMG OMG- GUEST APPEARANCE?!?! IS THAT EPHEMERAL CATALYST LEO I SEE (WHICH BELONGS TO THE AMAZING AND WONDERFUL @reesespiecesofart ) !?!? AHHHHHHHHHH him and V Raph would be besties hehehhehhe they chill w each other
(Also random drawing for my MM fic….. dont deny it Donnie you know you love her)
Hello, it's been a while (ᵕ—ᴗ—) I really missed the mysme universe and, though life is still busy, I'm trying to make time to do things I love; one of which is writing, even if I only write one fanfic per year lol XD
Sooo without further ado, here's a short fic based on this list by @sensetenou :)
P.S. I think tumblr broke my post, I can't add the "Keep reading" link after editing a typo ;A;
Vanderwood
He steps out of the cabin and takes a long, deep breath
It feels suffocating inside
With that damn 707, the girl, and their blue-haired friend...
Vanderwood ties his hair into a low ponytail and reaches for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket
Taking a stick, he lifts it to his lips
He pats his pockets for his lighter and mutters a curse under his breath when he realizes he left it inside
With a frustrated groan, he turns around—
—and he freezes
Standing before him, a nervous smile on her face, was the girl
MC
"You left this inside, I thought you could use it," she says, holding out the lighter to him
His throat feels tight and Vanderwood can hear the loud drumming of his heart against his ribcage
It takes every bit of his strength not to reach out and pull her into his arms
MC tucks her hair behind her ear, outstretched hand wavering as Vanderwood stood there staring at her
He clenches one hand into a fist
Then slowly relaxes his hand, his shoulders drooping as he resigns himself to the fact that she'll never recognize him
And it was all his fault
"Thanks," he mutters, cigarette still between his lips
He holds out his hand, expecting her to drop the lighter onto his palm
But the girl looks up at him and then lights the device, holding it close to his lips
Instinctively, he leans closer before he could even stop himself
As MC focuses on lighting the end of his cigarette, he can't help but stare into her eyes
At the reflection of the flames in them
"Maybe it's the fire in your eyes that I love, baby."
"Because it matches yours?"
"Hahaha MC, baby, I don't think my fire even comes close to yours."
"It's because got this fire from you, baby. You're the one who inspires me to be bold and brave."
MC takes a step back, smiling at him
Vanderwood takes a step back too, looking away from her
Blinking away the memories he so desperately wants to cling to
"Thanks," he mumbles, taking a long drag
Allowing the poison to fill his lungs before blowing a puff of white smoke away from where MC stands
"Umm...so..."
He glances at her
She has her hands clasped together in front of her
Then she bows to him, which startles Vanderwood
"Thank you so much for helping us save him."
Him
That V guy
Her current route
"Hey, don't worry about it," he replies, rubbing the back of his neck
He doesn't want to hear this
He doesn't want to listen to her talk about how much she loves that man
Because she once felt that way about him, too
MC straightens and grins at him
"I mean it. You saved his life and I hope I can repay your kindness one day."
Vanderwood waves a gloved hand dismissively, pulling the cigarette from his lips
"If I didn't do it," he forces himself to say. "707 would be distracted and he'd stop doing his damn job and we'd both be fucked."
She gives him a look that says she doesn't buy a single word out of his mouth
"Even so, without you that elixir might've brought more harm to him...Whatever your reasons, I'm really grateful to have you here, Vanderwood."
A mixture of feelings erupt from his chest, despite all his efforts to smother them
The bloom of hope, the scathing pang of hurt
Despair in the knowledge that she'll never recognize him ever again
Vanderwood looks to the door that leads back into the cabin, unable to meet her eyes
"You really care for him, huh?" he asks, careful to keep his feelings hidden
"Do you love me, MC?"
"Yes," she answers, her voice full of emotion
Vanderwood's brows furrow as he puts the cigarette back to his lips, turning his back to MC and choosing to gaze up at the stars instead
Here, out in the middle of fucking nowhere
Away from the city lights
They can actually see the starry night sky
Out here, away from the hustle and bustle of the city, everything is quiet
He can hear the grass and leaves rustling from the gentle night breeze
Hear the crickets and owls
Hear his own heart breaking all over again
MC moves to stand beside him but Vanderwood doesn't dare look at her
He keeps his gaze up at the stars, remembering his promise to her
"It's beautiful out here, right?"
"It's only beautiful because you're here, baby."
I don't have the right to call her that anymore
He lost that right when he gave her up
But it wasn't because he didn't love her anymore
No...
He doesn't think it's possible to love anyone else but her
His MC
But when MC only chose his route, over and over again
When he and MC found a way to be together —breaking through the codes and the walls
Breaking the impossible
...the system found a way to keep them apart
"NO!" Vanderwood yells, holding MC in his arms
She's not moving, her eyes closed, her breathing shallow
His big hand envelops her smaller one as he cradles her to his chest, tears rolling down his cheek as the red stain on her clothes start spreading
"Baby, stay with me, baby. Please. I'll get you to a hospital, MC. Please, I'm sorry. I'm sorry! Don't leave me, MC. Please. Please!"
He tries to lift her into his arms, but he hears the cock of guns and he protectively holds her close, glaring at the men in suits surrounding them
Each one with guns trained at the couple
A lone woman in a suit approaches them, her face expressionless as she gazes at Vanderwood and MC
"This could have been avoided, had she not foolishly jumped in front of you."
"You fucking bitch!"
Still, the woman remains impassive
She steps forward, closer to where Vanderwood and MC are
"You can save her, you know."
Vanderwood glares at the woman, but she continues
"I offer you the choice, ██████ ███," she says, lifting her hand and opening her palm
Over it, a hologram of an hourglass appears and becomes solid
"Return to the game and reset the clock. Go back to the beginning and undo what has been done. Or..."
The woman's eyes go to MC's pale form
"...live with your reality."
Return to the game...rewind time?
"If I do that...reset the game," he begins through gritted teeth. "She'll live? She'll be okay? She'll...be happy?"
"Yes. But she'll forget about you. And, to prevent a repeat of your insolence, we're removing your route from the game. We'll take your name, ██████ ███, your identity, your story...she will be happier this way, believe me."
Vanderwood's head snaps up, his eyes widening
Then...that means...
No.
"What the fuck?! If I fucking agree to this, then—"
Then I'll lose her forever
"You're losing her now, ██████."
He tenses and looks back at his girl, whose eyes flutter open slightly
She shakes her head, those beautiful eyes filled with tears
"No...don't."
"Shhh, it's okay, MC. It's gonna be okay," he whispers, his heart twisting painfully in his chest
The answer is obvious...so fucking obvious
He's the one who broke the game, who defied all the rules and brought this shit onto her life
He's the one who put her in danger in the first place...
"Mi███n...please," she pleads in a soft voice, panicking at what she sees in his eyes
"I'd rather die, having lived my life with you than live the rest of my life without you."
Vanderwood chuckles sadly, leaning down and pressing his lips to hers
He presses his forehead to hers, holding her close to him
One last time
"MC, baby..."
"I love you so damn much."
"There's not a single day of my life where I won't be loving you, MC."
"You're my North Star...you'll always be my home, you'll always be the light in my life."
"That's why I have to say goodbye."
"I can't...I can't live in a world without you, baby."
"I'm sorry...this is so fucking selfish of me, but I'm just a character in a game."
"You are REAL."
She sobs and winces, reaching out and cupping his cheek despite the pain
"You're real to me, ██nj█n."
He smiles and kisses her again
"Even if your mind doesn't remember me," he whispers between kisses
"I hope your heart won't forget me."
The woman, watching the two lovers, turns the hourglass
Around them, everything slowly fades into dust
Vanderwood smiles at MC, tears streaming down his cheeks as he memorizes all the details about her
MC holds onto him with the last of her strength, panic coursing through her body
She doesn't want this, she doesn't want to leave him
"Hey, lady," Vanderwood tells the woman without looking at her
"I have one favor to ask. Please."
"Yeah," Vanderwood replies to MC, keeping his gaze trained at the brightest star in the sky
"It's beautiful."
"Vanderwood..."
He turns to look at her and sees a confused expression on her face
"Have we...?"
The door suddenly bursts open and Seven comes out, a smile on his face
"He's awake!" he informs MC
A smile spreads across her face and she bows again to Vanderwood
"Thank you, Vanderwood!"
She runs inside and he watches her go, swallowing the lump in his throat
Guess he'll have to get used to this
Watching her from afar as she runs into the arms of another man
A man that will never be him, ever again
"After all this time?"
Vanderwood rolls his eyes, blinking away the hurt and pain and arranging his expression into one of annoyance
He turns his back on Seven, putting his cigarette back between his lips
"Aww c'mon. This is the perfect time to re-enact that scene from Garry Potted!"
"Go back to fucking work, Seven."
Seven stares at Vanderwood's wide back, a sad smile on his face
Even though Vanderwood isn't aware of it, Seven actually knows who he is
What he's been through
After all...Vanderwood isn't the only one working on breaking the game's code
Working on ending the reset system, once and for all
Seven wishes he could do more to comfort his friend
But instead, he goes back inside and sits on the couch
Cracking his fingers, Seven focuses his gaze on his laptop screen
"Hang in there, Minjun. We'll get out of this one."
"Promise."
・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・
If you're reading this, thank you so much for reading my fic ;w; I hope you enjoyed it <3
P.S. Minjun is a name I made for Vanderwood, but it's not official or anything! Still hoping and praying Cheritz makes a route for him ;w;
Check out my other Mysme writings here!
Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)
pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)
summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.
series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, extreme fluff, like soooo much flirting, warnings to be added as needed
word count: 4.4k
previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist
note: happy Sunday! this ended up far longer than I expected so there'll be some updates to the masterlist! thank you so much for your patience, I know it's been a while since the last part. love you all.
part 8.5.1 - snacks and SPF
Saturday, March 20, 2021
Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Mary’s shoe bounces against the tile, echoing through the kitchen as she checks her watch again.
Ten minutes late.
“Things happen. Things happen! With the time zones and the technology. It’s still early for them!” She feels ridiculous talking out loud to her empty house. “Besides! Ten minutes is nothing! There’s probably just a problem with a satellite somewhere!”
The self-soothing does little to calm her nerves. She knows what happens during deployments; she’s seen the aftermath of the accidents that can happen. Fatal mistakes occurring in a nanosecond unable to be reversed. Part of her last job was to analyze the charred piles that used to make up a fighter jet, ignoring the brown stains splattered on the metal.
“No.” Mary shakes her head so hard she feels lightheaded. “We will not go down that road. Everything is fine until you are told it’s not. Everything is fine. He’s just late.”
She slides off the barstool, trying to work out the anxious energy with laps around the living room, her shoes clicking with each step. Mary catches sight of herself in the entryway mirror and frowns; all the effort she put into getting ready feels stupid now. The outfit, the heels, the carefully styled hair, the makeup that took an hour.
“You’re trying too hard.” She lightly scolds, frowning at the curls starting to lose their shape.
“But he’ll appreciate it.” She argues with herself, knowing that Bradley will be happy to see her wearing the replacement sweater he bought. He won’t see the tight jeans and heeled boots she decided to wear with it, but those aren’t for him. They’re for her, a little boost in her confidence.
The next lap takes her around the island, laptop and phone void of notifications.
Fifteen minutes late.
Fifteen minutes late used to mean nothing; she used to love it when professors were fifteen minutes late. The excited buzzing of a classroom at the prospect of a canceled class. People comparing watches, phones, laptops, anything that could tell time, giggling as they discussed what to do with an unexpected hour of freedom. Now, it feels like the complete opposite. Dread filling her stomach like bad news is going to appear at her front door any second, the same way a tenured Ph.D. waltzing through the lecture hall doors at the last minute dashed all hopes of escape.
Mary is so distracted by trying to erase the bad thoughts swirling that she misses the silver car pulling into the driveway. She doesn’t notice the sound of the car door closing or the person walking to her front door, only pulled from the impending spiral by the doorbell ringing.
“Who the fuck…” One last wistful glance at the clock tells her the afternoon’s plans are probably dead.
Twenty minutes late.
“Mav?” Mary can’t hide the surprise in her voice at seeing the older man on her front porch. “Is everything okay?”
“Can I come in?”
The lack of an answer sends a chill up her spine, and she silently moves to the side, letting the admiral into her home. He subtly looks around, taking in her colorful decor and sturdy furniture.
“Haven’t been here since you moved in; the place looks good, Mary.”
Her knees practically buckle at the use of her name; he always defers to her unofficial call sign or last name. The last time he used her first name was to introduce her to some visiting admirals from Washington. Something terrible had to have happened for him to show up unannounced on a Saturday at the same time she’s supposed to be video chatting with Bradley.
“Pete…” She croaks the name, nose burning with the urge to cry.
He turns around, face scrunched in confusion at the sound of his first name and stretching into panic at her wobbling lip.
“Everything is fine! He’s fine!” The shouted reassurance makes Mary flinch, years of therapy unable to eliminate the instinctive action completely. “Oh, jesus…”
Mav scans the room using the same quick-thinking senses that kept him alive for years in a jet, locating the tissues and swiftly bringing the box to the sniffling woman. His eyes are guilt-filled as he presses a kleenex into her hand, guiding them to the infamous pink couch.
“I’m sorry for yelling.”
“It s’okay.” Mary gives a shaky smile. “I’ve always been a bit jumpy.”
Pete bites his tongue as she sniffles and grimaces at the makeup that transfers to the tissue. Slider had told him in vague terms about the Vertucci family and how they’ve been less than supportive of their daughter, how that would be putting it generously. Bradley’s telling of how she spent her PTO during Christmas was more straightforward, a full picture forming as his nephew lamented a family he didn’t know.
“Officially, you don’t know what I’m about to tell you, and you can’t tell anyone else. Do you understand?” Mary confusedly blinks at him but nods her head in agreement. “The comms blackout got extended, and all the calls scheduled for the next week are being pushed out. All the recipients got notified, but when Laura went through the list to double-check, she realized your contact information had gotten entered wrong.”
“You came all the way over to tell me?”
“I was already out, and I figured you would be worried. And I wanted to make sure you were okay; I haven’t gotten a chance to talk to you lately and check on you. The first deployment away from each other is the hardest.”
“Oh- Bradley and I- we’re not-” Mary stumbles over her words, neck hot as she tries to explain.
“I know,” Mav gently assures. “But you will be; I know Bradley.”
Her heart flutters, not sure how to respond other than the bashful smile she can’t hide.
“And he would be embarrassed that I’m about to do this, but while he’s not here and it’s just us, I wanted to ask that you take care of him. Bradley means everything to me; he’s my kid, and I know how much he cares about you. You’ve both had some hard times, and I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Slider had given her a similar talk before he left town. Bradley has such an incredible support system, with so many people who care about him, but it hurts her heart that she’s not close enough with her family to get the same treatment. She’s never brought anyone home, and none of her relatives ever bother to visit, the distance too far. Her parents had briefly - and accidentally - met the one boyfriend she had in college, an excruciating experience that had been the catalyst for their breakup. Since then, no one has seen Vertuccis in anything except pictures.
“I will, Pete. I don’t ever want to hurt him.”
The I love him is left unsaid, but she’s pretty sure Mav reads between the lines, clocking the hearts in her eyes as she thinks about the mustached man they care about so much.
“Good, and if he ever hurts you, just let me know. I’m old, but I still know all his weak spots.” Mav smiles at Mary's giggles, her eyes crinkling in laughter. “Okay M&M, I gotta get going, but stop by my office this week, and we’ll grab lunch. Also, Penny wants you to come to Easter dinner, so keep that in mind, and she’s having some sort of ladies-only thing next weekend that she wanted me to mention; she’ll probably call you tomorrow.”
“Okay! I’ll text her about what she wants me to bring for Easter.” There’s a moment of awkwardness by the door, but it disappears when Pete pulls her in for a hug. “Thank you, Mav.”
He squeezes her extra tight for a second, his throat thick when she presses her face against his shoulder just like Bradley does. “Any time, kid.”
Wednesday, March 31, 2021
Bradley splashes more cold water on his face in a futile attempt to calm down. He has to calm down. He needs to be in bed soon, sleeping and resting for tomorrow’s hops. But nothing is working. The shower was a failure, and so was a lap around the hangar deck, trying to let the salty sea air clear his brain.
The communication blackout had been partially lifted two days ago, giving everyone access to email. Bradley had spent every available minute at the terminal in the Daggers ready room, catching up on twenty-nine days of messages from his family and Mary.
Mary.
Who had overwhelmed him with her sweet messages and silly jokes. Sending at least one email a day, keeping him up to date on work and the Dagger family in San Diego, occasionally adding a blurry photo of Mav with a caption reminiscent of a wildlife documentary. He had read the email from her birthday at least six times, staring at the photo she had attached. He couldn’t wait to print a copy of Mary snuggled on her couch, wearing the soft yellow sweater he bought and boldly spritzed with cologne. Her smile a little shy as she posed, just for him.
That’s not what got to him, though it’s certainly not helping.
It’s not the way she signed that email.
love, Mary
An echo of her birthday card, the addition of the pink heart emoji after her name making him smile.
It’s not how every email since has ended with the same signature.
Love. Love. Love. Love. Love.
And it’s not even that her emails have been slightly bolder. The content staying constant but with an extra something. It had taken a few days’ worth of updates to realize that she was being more blatant with her flirting, more open.
I’m always so hungry when I get home, and I just realized today it’s because you’re not here to bring me a turkey sandwich. I miss you and your thoughtfulness.
had girls’ night tonight - Aaron joined us - and we put Skyfall on for background noise. thought about you the whole time… I was so stupid to kick you out that night. I think that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. I’ll never understand how you forgave me, but I’m so glad you did.
should have stolen your flight school sweatshirt before you left. mine just isn’t as comfy.
He almost broke at the attached photo of her in bed, pouting at the camera with her lush pink lips and big brown eyes as the collar of her almost identical sweatshirt dipped to show off her freckled shoulder that was just begging to be kissed.
All of that? All of that was manageable.
So what exactly sent Lieutenant Commander Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw into a tizzy?
Carefully packaged cookies and a slightly blurry polaroid.
Today’s mail call brought care packages for all twelve members of the Dagger Squad, lovingly packed and sent by Mary, Danielle, Aaron, Kristina, and Flora. All the packages were the same, with identical toiletries, socks, sunscreen, and snacks from Costco, plus a note signed by the San Diego crew. The married Daggers had extra goodies and personal letters from their spouse.
The mood had risen exponentially since the boxes were dropped in their ready room; the midway point of deployment is always the hardest. But spending the evening playing the card game in Logan’s box put smiles on everyone’s faces. Even Jake, moping that there was no note from Flora in his box, laughed as Bob easily won three times in a row.
The crew slowly trickled out, returning to their bunks as it got closer to bedtime, but Bradley hung around, waiting until he was alone to open the last part of his box. The smaller box his note told him was just for him, Mary’s swirling signature below the instruction. He was glad to watch Mickey and Reuben leave, the latter giving him a knowing wink, and waited an extra second before unpacking his treats to get to the bonus box.
The scotch tap easily peeled away and the cardboard tabs folded back to reveal a small envelope, a big bag of shelled pistachios, and layers of individually wrapped sugar cookies. He didn’t bother with anything else, immediately unwrapping a cookie and taking a huge bite. Mary’s sugar cookies are a weakness of his, thick but soft, and the sweet practically melts in his mouth. He closes his eyes to enjoy the taste of home, and a familiar scent wafts past his nose.
Mary’s perfume.
It’s coming from the envelope. An involuntary grin spreading across his lips as he brushes crumbs off his shirt, carefully sliding his finger under the flap. His smile growing as he reads the short letter, chuckling at the explanation of how she had volunteered to ship the packages so she could sneak his cookies in, and she hoped the perfume wasn’t too strong, but there had been some wine involved as the group influenced her to spritz the paper. His eyes widen at the last line.
Look under your cookies for an extra special surprise.
His leg bounces as he holds another envelope in his hand. He can tell what’s in this one, the polaroid shape distinctive through the thin paper. Bradley knows it can’t be the thing his brain immediately thought about. For so many reasons, he knows it’s not that. It doesn’t stop his heart from beating faster at the possibility. Just the potential has his ears burning.
“Whatever it is, you gotta look at it before someone else shows up.” He mutters to himself, feeling unsteady as he slides his index finger along the edge of the seal.
There’s seven photos in the stack. The first three taken during what he assumes was the care package night, everyone smiling at the camera, cheeks smooshed together. The fourth is his family, all of them smiling around the dining room table with a picture of him sitting at his regular chair, his place set like he’s just running late and not floating hundreds of miles off the coast of Japan. The next two confuse him. Pictures of the plants in his living room, a tiny bit of Maverick’s shoulder visible in the one of his pothos ivy.
The last one takes his breath away.
Mary, in her yellow sweater, smiling in the mirror on his dresser. Her smile is soft, with a tiny bit cheekiness shining through as she stands in front of his bed. She’s wearing the pair of light-wash jeans that hug her ass just right, the ones with a tiny rip on the left pocket.
“Fuck.”
The photo floats to the table as Bradley scrubs at his eyes. A fully clothed photo is going to get him hard just because it’s Mary, and she’s standing in his bedroom. For the first time since the blackout was lifted, he clicks the new message button, not caring what time it is for either of them.
Seeing your name in my inbox so many times made me smile. I’ve read all your emails, and I’m working on a long email to give you my thoughts on the highlights.
I’m sorry I missed our call - I’ll make it up to you as soon as I can. Promise.
For now, I just wanted to let you know that I’m thinking of you - I’ve been thinking of you - and I’ll be able to answer your emails now, but don’t stop sending them. I want to hear from you whenever you want to tell me something.
I miss you.
love,
Bradley
p.s. Mariella Vertucci, what the hell are you doing in my bedroom without me?
it’s so good to see your words!! (I would say hear your voice, but you know)
you got your package!! do you need anything else? I can send it with priority shipping if you do.
don’t worry about the call; Mav let me know what happened. I was sad I didn’t get to see you, but things happen. I know what this life is like. we’ll get to talk when the timing works out, and until then, I’m happy to read your words.
I can’t wait to hear your thoughts! please tell me March 17th is on your highlight list, I’m pretty sure Cyclone is *still* mad at Mav from the way your uncle is avoiding him. speaking of uncle, the other one (tall one) (Slider) (I now have to differentiate because Pete introduced me to a bunch of class of ‘86 uncles last week. why are they all so tall? Mav excluded, of course.) is going to be in town in a few weeks. might ask him for a copy of that baby photo so I can put it on my desk.
I’m thinking of you, too. probably too often considering how much I’ve been emailing you. I guess I didn’t realize how much we talk until you couldn’t instantly respond to me… now it makes hearing from you even more special.
I miss you more.
love,
Mary
p.s. your uncle (the short one) is hopeless with plants. why did you trust him to keep them alive for two months? Mav gave me a key (I hope you don’t mind, please let me know if you do) and I’ve officially been entrusted with plant babysitting duties.
p.p.s. your mail person keeps delivering mail to your box despite me calling. if you could check on the mail hold request you submitted, I would appreciate it. the lady at the Main Street desk is mean whenever I try to fix it.
p.p.p.s. Frank’s hip is healing nicely! did you know he’s not Mr. Hadcock? Eileen’s (Mrs. Hadcock’s name is Eileen) husband died about twenty years ago, and she met Frank on a dating site; it’s a sweet story. they want to have us over for dinner when you’re back. I said maybe - committing us to a dinner without talking to you seemed… premature. I promised to cook if that sways your decision.
p.p.p.p.s. your bed is comfy, might take a nap there this weekend when I drop food off to Eileen and Frank.
We did get our boxes! Thank you so much. For everything you got me, of course, but all the single Daggers, too. Everyone really appreciated it!! We’re working on a thank you for the five of you.
The cookies are incredible, by the way, they were in perfect shape. I think the individual wrapping was key. I don’t need anything else, you set us up good for this second half!
I still feel bad. As soon as I can bribe someone else - you’re getting a call. I’ve never been good at the email communication, but I’m trying for you. March 17th is on the list, how could it not be?! Who was there? Please tell me you didn’t meet Hollywood. Could you buy a bottle of Jack Daniels and give it to Slider when he’s in town for me? It’s for his birthday, let me know what I owe you.
I am begging you not to ask for that baby photo. You don’t ever have to buy me a present or anything ever again.
Your words make me smile, can’t wait to save all the photos you’ve sent me. And I don’t want us to be the people that argue about who misses who more, but I definitely miss you more.
love,
Bradley
p.s. Uncle Shortstack was supposed to trust Aunt Responsible or Sister Sass with plant care. I see that has not happened. Keep the key; I know you’re a good plant mom, trusting you with mine.
p.p.s. Adding it to tomorrow’s to do list. Feel free to sort through it and recycle all the junk. If something looks super important, open it and let me know. I know who you mean, and she is rude. Don’t worry about her, just keep grabbing the mail until I get this fixed.
p.p.p.s. Good to hear about his hip. I had a feeling they weren’t married, but I wasn’t totally sure, and how do you ask an elderly woman if she’s living with her boyfriend or her husband?? Dinner sounds good. If you’re cooking, it sounds amazing. Sign us up, tell them date TBD.
p.p.p.p.s. Now you’re just messing with me. But if you’re not, flight school sweatshirt is in the bottom right drawer of the dresser, remote is in the left nightstand. Enjoy my Netflix. We know I’m not.
Bradley, just out of curiosity, what time do you think I get up for work? I’m literally always in before you show up at 6 AM.
happy to send care packages anytime; just let me know who needs what. no thank you necessary. (well, maybe a picture if you can swing it. lots of adults and kids are missing the Daggers around these parts.) thank GOD the cookies were okay. I was so scared they would be moldy and ruin your box!!! individual wrapping is the move, noted.
if you’re trying, that’s all that matters to me.
Cyclone’s face was so red Warlock was ready to call medical. or his wife. whoever would be more effective. I think there was even talk of SECNAV as a last resort. making a note for Ron’s birthday present, will even add a bow to the neck of the bottle, free of charge, for you.
there was a whole gaggle of ‘86 guys. I’ll have to give you a full breakdown in a separate email because it was a wild night. how can they drink so much? I lost count after the sixth (seventh?) toast. I had to pour Mav into the Jeep, and Penny and I dragged him into the house. (dramatized for effect, he did trip up the stairs, though. thought Penny was going to fall off the porch she laughed so hard.)
I have a small crush on Hollywood. he’s just so handsome. but don’t worry, he’s too old for me. I like guys who are three years older than me. any suggestions?
it’s so cute that you think that would incentivize me not to get the photo. look in the cardboard box, Bradshaw. I *love* buying presents and helping people I care about.
every time I emailed you a photo I also texted you, once you have service again you’ll get a ton of texts from me. sorry. you’re right; we don’t want to be those people. but I want to point out that we’re not arguing. I’m clearly correct here.
love,
Mary
p.s. he’s trying his best! (probably? might be too afraid of Cyclone to remember things. plus, he’s kinda old.) (Mav, if you somehow see this, it’s a joke. you’re not that short.)
p.p.s. thank you! don’t worry, all the crap has been chucked already. I did stick the menu for a new Chinese food place on your fridge, we should go when you’re back.
p.p.p.s. she’s chill, but that definitely could have been a bad question. dinner will be confirmed, and we’ll discuss dates when you’re back. start thinking about what you want for dinner.
p.p.p.p.s. not messing with you on this. your bed is very comfy. (don’t ask how I know. Mav and I had a weird time at your place. it’s better to explain in person.) stealing the sweatshirt ASAP and I’m going to ruin your Netflix algorithm. will send photographic proof.
no more p.s.-es for now, heading to work. I’ll talk to you later. go to sleep, Bradley. dream of me.
Bradley stares at the last line for a while, not moving until the motion sensor timer turns the lights off on him. He showers, Mary on his mind the entire time. The cold air on the hangar deck just makes him think about cuddling Mary in his bed, snuggled together as she wears his sweatshirt (and only his sweatshirt) before offering to keep her warm. How she would laugh at his faux sleazy smile and pull him in, letting him run his hands all over her soft, curvy body. The freckled skin that would appear inch by inch as he slides the shirt over her head, kissing his way to her mouth, making two important detours along the way. The thought of how she might sound as she moans his name propels him to the bathroom sink for a dose of cold water.
“You okay, man?” Reuben’s whispered concern as he enters their bunk room is understandable. His hair is sticking up from running his hands through it, and his cheeks are red, his shirt splattered with wet spots from his aggressive attempt at calming down.
“Yeah!” He’s too loud for the room. Mickey twitches in his sleep, and even Bob, who usually ignores their antics, squints at him over at his book. “I’m fine! Mary sent cookies; if you don’t tell anyone else, you can have one each.”
Bob and Payback eye each other, silently agreeing to not ask about the frazzled state after the mention of Mary. “What kind?”
“Sugar. She said they’re unfrosted because she was worried about them going bad.” He distributes the cookies, leaving one on Fanboy’s shaving kit for the morning, before climbing into bed.
He flips and flops, trying to get comfortable before rolling to his right side. The low light from Bob’s bunk is just enough to see the photo from Valentine’s Day. Bradley lets his mind wander, not as far as before, just remembering that morning and their goodbye in the hangar, every moment in between.
The room goes dark as the WSO settles in for the night, but he can still see Mary. Her features are burned into his brain, her perfume floating in his nose from her letter safely tucked into the cubby above his head.
I’m never getting to sleep tonight.
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I'm so excited to share this amazing cover, illustrated by @thistlearts with typography by Houda Belgharbi. I went into the cover creation process wanting a very specific feel for this ebook and paperback cover, and how it all came together blew me out of the park.
How does one entrap a vampire? Offer to let them feed on you, of course. But Wesley underestimates how good the bite will feel, and how easily the handsome predator’s sweet, shy nature will make him doubt all his previous goals…
Slow-burn M/M romance
Vampire x human
Oblivious pining
Disasters to lover
Bite Kink
If you noticed that this cover is only for ebook and paperback, that's because there will likely be a separate hardcover version announced at a later date, along with audiobooks! (Don't wait to buy it though, because whether these versions come out depends on how well the ebooks and paperbacks do.)
