MikeRowave
Fandoms
- Supergirl (TV 2015) (8)
- Yellowjackets (TV) (4)
- Wynonna Earp (TV) (3)
- Hawkeye (TV 2021) (2)
- Marvel Cinematic Universe (1)
Recent works
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“Okay let's talk about the other lead— Shauna, uh…”
“Shauna Shipman.” Nat finishes for her, rolling her eyes. “Shauna Shipman is a walking PR nightmare. She's a method actress in a disastrous marriage to a failed comedian and, if I'm being entirely honest, a walking fucking closet case. But you didn't hear that from me.”
Jackie makes a lips-locked motion and tosses the key.
“She is also, to her credit, one of the best actresses of our generation. Lottie worked with her on No Time Left, said she was one of the best scene partners she's ever had. Also, um—” Nat chokes, stumbles, “a very good kisser.”
Jackie shuts off her curling iron, ruffling her hair outward, and winks at Nat through her phone camera. “She sounds exactly like my type."
“Jackie, no.”
or, the actors au <3
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your doorstep calls my name by MikeRowave
Fandoms: Hawkeye (TV 2021), Marvel Cinematic Universe
19 Nov 2025
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There, face down on her bed, wrapped in her dark purple comforter and drooling on her memory foam pillow, is a person— a blonde haired person, in smudged lipstick and what looks like a leather jacket, from the tip of the collar Kate sees peeking out from under her blanket.
So Kate does the logical thing. She has a black belt in five different martial arts. She’s a state champion fencer, and a world champion archer. She takes one look at the potentially dangerous home intruder sleeping in her bed, and she does what any smart person would do. Duh.
She whispers, “Oh, what the fuck,” turns around, promptly collapses on the couch in the living room, and falls asleep.
OR: Kate is a grad student at NYU. All it takes is a blonde with a habit of breaking and entering to change everything.
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Nat turns to look at her again, face pinched in righteous anger. “If you didn’t want to be here, you didn't need to come, Lottie.”
Lottie runs a hand through her hair, fingers clenching at her roots. “You don’t fucking get it, do you? I want to help you, Nat.”
“You want to help me?” Something desperate, a moment of possession, flashes across Nat's face at Lottie’s words. “If you want to help me,” Nat growls, leaning in close enough to press against the bars, “then get me the hell out of Wiskayok.”
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Van takes the little piece of roll from Nat’s fingers and still manages to work one last drag from it, stubborn little fuck she is. She blows the smoke towards Tai, whose eyes flutter closed as she inhales. “Whaddya say, Nat? Wouldn’t you rather spend the summer by the beach with your two bestest friends instead of cooped up at home with your mom and her soaps and an empty fridge?”
“Don’t you start shit about my fridge, Palmer.”
“Let me sell it to you, Nat.” Van leans back down into the grass, her hands raised up to the sky in a frame. “I can picture it now. We’re such good roomies we don’t need a chore chart or anything. I’m gonna learn to surf. Tai’ll bring home the bacon at her big city bureaucrat job. We can all walk down to the beach every night to drink beers and watch the sunset.”
(or, nat and van and tai pack up and move from wiskayok to ocean city, new jersey. and nat cant stop running into lottie matthews.)
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“Van said you were unoccupied,” Taissa starts, like it’s an apology, like her presence is unwanted. Her footsteps fall just short of the small clearing Lottie rests in, like it’s a sacred circle that she refuses to enter. “This is the misthia I told you about—”
“Natalie,” Lottie smiles. “I recall.”
Natalie is bound in leather straps and iron armor. Scale mail that accentuates the cording of her arms, white linens that flow around her knees in the brisk breeze, a leather cord across her brow that pushes her choppy dark hair away from her eyes— she is everything Lottie has seen in her dreams a thousand times over.
And she is here.
(or, the oracle/misthios au)
Recent bookmarks
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“I might have to put a muzzle on you until you learn to use your words more wisely” Mira mused, conversational in tone. Her eyes flickered to Rumi who rested a light hand on her own chin, in casual ponderance. “Jesus fucking Christ” Zoey breathed out.
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Or, Zoey is a successful solo rapper fresh off winning Best Rapper of the Year at the Idol Awards for the second year in a row. Rumi and Mira are established icons in the music industry, but bored. They pursue Zoey to alleviate said boredom. Plot ensues.Series
- Part 1 of your heart melts into my cup
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“Sure, I'll do it,” Nat agrees. Against her better judgement, maybe, but fuck it—she’s never been one for smart decisions, and she won't start now. “I'll be your arm candy, rage bait, whatever. Just don’t go falling in love with me or anything.”
The corner of Lottie’s mouth curls upwards, showing her crooked tooth. “I’ll do my best.”
She holds out her right hand, waiting. Nat reaches out and takes it, and there: an agreement struck by words, bound by skin. Down the hall, across sun-drenched tiling, the shadows of tree branches stretch out like antlers below them.
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Natalie wakes up hungover in Jackie Taylor’s bathtub.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Either Frank’s acid has become spectacularly good since she tried it last, or Nat has completely lost her fucking mind.OR
It’s Friday, August 2nd, 1996: the summer after graduation is nearing an end, the Yellowjackets are in splinters, and Nat will never have another day if she can’t fix the one she’s already lived a hundred times.
- Language:
- English
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- 66,347
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- 4/5
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Bookmarked by MikeRowave
10 Mar 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
i've probably reread this about a million times. i just keep coming back.
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a good mistake needed making (maybe you need the same thing) by novel_concept26
Fandoms: Yellowjackets (TV)
30 Mar 2025
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Van Palmer's in her forties, come home again to take care of her ailing mother and get her video store off the ground. Taissa Turner's in her forties, fresh off a divorce and a failed Senate bid, in need of a low-stakes job. Neither have seen the other in twenty-five years, but old habits--and first loves--have a way of coming back to claim you when least expected.
or
A year in the life of a friends-with-benefits arrangement that will certainly not spiral out of control.
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Lottie has her driver’s license for two and a half weeks before she totals her brand new Audi.
(you know, that age-old trope of 'friends to carpoolers to lovers' come on, you know the trope, it's great)