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imdoingmybest0 · 11 months

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Sweetie; part 1 Bob Floyd x F! Reader “Sweetie” 18+ minors please do not interact :)

(Bob gives me soft-dom vibes and this is a reflection of that feeling)

Series with @blimpintime, go check out the Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader story they’re writing, our stories are intertwined :) !!!!

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I pull my “uniform” out of my employee locker and slam the door to get it to shut. I sigh, this is what I get for picking up extra shifts, 8am private tours of Elite Naval Aviators. I really hope they aren’t a group of cocky old men ready to call me condescending names. I slide my thin vest over my clothes. Of course, I’d choose a pale blue tank top to go under a white crochet swimsuit cover. I was just glad I chose jeans today instead of a skirt, I didn't need more harassment than I already got. I button the vest at my stomach and pick my coffee up off the break room table. My early morning pick me up definitely helped make this shift more livable. I set it back down and make my way through the door leading to the hangar.

I can see the aviators milling about through the glass lobby doors, luckily I spot a woman or two among them and none of them looked old enough to cat call. I walk quickly to the doors, checking my watch, 7:53am, right on time. I walk towards the doors and turn the lock.

“Hello!” I say, trying to sound cheery and awake, “Welcome to the Naval Air Museum, Hanger four; the Cold War.”

The group gathers around and a few of them smile at me and one man with glasses gives a shy wave. I feel an abnormal heat spread at the back of my neck. I knew I was touring Aviators today but I didn't expect so many of them to be attractive. Actually all of them were attractive.

I force a smile, “Here at the museum all of the employees go by callsigns, mine is Sweetie and I'll be your guide today.” A few of the group chuckle and my neck heats up from the attention. “I’ll be taking you around and showing you planes from each decade of the cold war. Feel free to ask me questions at any time and I will try my best to answer them. If you have further questions, you can always scan the QR codes on the displays for more information.”

Reciting the memorized script eased my nerves. I asked the group to follow me and I made my way through the tour, stopping at key planes to describe their uses or pilots or any of the many, many boring details of their reason for being in a museum. I saw a few of the group yawn on occasion and some had stopped to read other planes' descriptions. There was one person who kept their eyes trained on me, the same man who had waved at me in the lobby. He was tall and lean with wavy dirty blond hair. He wore thin gold glasses that suited his face. He wore a vintage t-shirt tucked into well fitted jeans. He had a worn blue carhartt jacket and he looked absolutely stunning.

I stumbled over my monologue about the F-15 and he smiled at me and gave an encouraging nod. I feel my face turn red at his attention. I'm about to finish my tour when I spot a woman walking between the exhibits, drink in hand and two kids running ahead of her, one with a tablet and the other with a bag of chips as big as their head.

“Excuse me ma’am, this section of the museum is closed for a private tour until nine.” I say politely. She turns quickly on her heel and looks me up and down. My stomach drops, one of those huh.

“I paid to be here,” she looks at my name tag and scoffs, “Sweetie.”

I smile with my teeth gritted and try to remain courteous, “Im sure you did ma’am but there was a sign posted out front saying this section is closed. We have plenty of other wonderful hangars open to the public.”

She rolls her eyes and places a hand on her hip defiantly, “Don’t ma’am me young lady. I will go wherever I please as long as I’m a paying customer.”

Her grating voice attracts the attention of the pilots, a few start to move in closer to see what the commotion is. “Ma’a- Miss, I’m sorry this tour is a special request from-” I start.

“I don’t care who's ‘special request it was’, I've been sitting in the car with those two,” she gestures to her two kids running between the planes, “for five hours. So I’d like to enjoy the museum that I paid to see.”

I open my mouth to say something else, getting frustrated, when I hear the door to my left slam open. I hear a voice echo through the hangar, “I know someone is not yelling at my employee at eight in the fucking morning.” It's my manager, Dynamite.

“Oh, Dynamite you’re-” I start before she holds her hand up to me. I stand there shocked as Dynamite lays into the woman escorting him towards the door. I see one of the pilots, the muscular blond one, lean over to his friend and murmur, “That's hot.”

Dynamite, returns to the group and smiles professionally, “Sorry about that y’all. I hope you enjoy the rest of your tour with our Sweetie here.” She gives me a gentle pat on the shoulder, “If anyone has any questions at all let me know, I’ll be over here figuring out paperwork at the side desk.” She points to a desk with the sign “Need help?” hanging off it., before making her way over, quickly tailed by the murmuring blond.

“Sorry about the interruption folks. We have mostly concluded our tour. If you'd like to walk around we still have about fifteen minutes left.I’ll be over by the info desk if you have any more questions.” I smile at the group and make my way over to the info desk. I began to organize the leaflets that the Karens kids had strung everywhere. I’m so focused on my work that I don’t notice the bespectacled man approach. He cleared his throat soft and I jumped, almost dropping the papers I was holding.

“Hey there,” he says quietly.

My face warms and I smile at him, “Hi, did you have any questions?”

He scratches the back of his head and looks at the floor, “Um yea could you tell me about,” he pauses and looks around the planes, “could you tell me more about the F-15?” His cheeks are flush red and so do mine.

“Of course,” I say and lead him back to the plane. “The F-15 here has a wingspan of about 42 feet and ten inches, she runs on two electric turbofan engines, as well as being the first plane to have radar.”

I try to sound excited but I’m slowly running out of facts, I only memorized a few per plane. The tall man trains his eyes on the plane and then looks back at me and asks, “Do you know how fast it can go?”

“Uhh,” I say, “I’m sorry I don’t. I could ask Dyna if you'd like.” I’m a little disappointed that I don't have a reason to keep talking to him.

“Oh,” he smiles down at the floor, “Its top speed is Mach 2.5. I just thought I might as well figure out a reason to talk to you.” I’m a little surprised. His face is red as a beet and adjusts his glasses.

I feel my face heat up and my eyes widen, “To me?”

He chuckles, “Well yea Sweetie, I really enjoyed the tour.”

“I see,” I fiddle with my sleeve and shuffle my feet, “I’m glad you enjoyed it. Most people get pretty bored but there are a few interesting parts.”

“Well I think we just had a really good guide. I’m Bob Floyd by the way,” he extends his hand to me.

I take it and ask,” No call sign?”

He smiles at me, “No, just Bob.”

“Are you a pilot?” I ask, trying to find some reason to keep him talking to me.

He chuckles and rubs his neck, “No, weapons systems. I back seat for Pheonix over there,” he gestures toward a woman with dark hair pulled into a low ponytail. “She flies, I just drop the bombs.”

My mind goes blank trying to think of something else to say, but Bob speaks up before I come up with something embarrassing, “Would you like to show me around again?” I look at him a little surprised and nod making my way around the plane.

“I’m sorry I can't tell you much more about them. Usually people aren’t too interested in asking me questions after the tour.” I smile at him as we walk.

He blushes a bit, “I’ve actually studied most of these. Kinda a hobby of mine.”

“Oh,” I frown at the ground a little, “then why did you want to walk around again?”

He blushes and looks down at the floor, “I thought it was obvious.” he glances at me, “I wanted to walk with you.”

My face turns red and I touch my cheeks, “I see,” I look down at my feet and then back up a Bob. He has his hands shoved into his pockets and his face and ears are dusted pink.

“Well,” I came to a stop and turned toward him, he did the same, “If you wanted to walk with me, I get off at four.” I look up at his surprised expression before he breaks into a grin.

“Really?” he asks, I nod my head. “That sounds like you're asking me on a date,” he gives me a crooked smile.

“Would you like to meet me back here at four then?” I question, “I don’t think I'll need to change,” I say and look down at myself.

“No,” he says suddenly, “uh, no, I mean you look perfect just like that.”

I smile, “Bobby? Are you hitting on me?” My hand goes up to play with one of my necklaces, his eyes follows the movement. A smile tilts his lips again, and his eyes quickly flit down to my body to my shoes and back up, before meeting my eyes again.

“Would you like me not to?” he says softly, “It’s going to be difficult.”

I choke at the boldness of his words. The shy, blushing man had disappeared and this flirty sailor had appeared in his place. Before I can respond he takes a half step closer and I don't want to back away from him. He smiles down at me, his eyes slightly lidded. “After we take a walk, I could take you to dinner.” his smirk gets bigger, “But I have to tell you.” He cranes his neck down to look me in the face, I inhale sharply at his expression.

“I let very few people call me Bobby,” he looks like a starved animal that just found his next meal. He winks, one side of his lip following and a sharp, short click comes from his tongue.

Then he stands straight and steps back, “I’ll see you at four then right Sweetie?” His smile could sweeten tea. At a loss for words I slowly not my head yes.

“I’ll pick you up then,” he says scratching the back of his neck and takes two goofy steps backward knocking into a sign reading ‘No Outside Food or Drink’. I giggle at him and he looks up at me and joins in. He gives an awkward half-salute-half-wave before turning to meet the woman he had named as Phoenix earlier.

When I stop giggling the reality of what just happened sunk in and a heat spread from the back of my neck and around my face. I hurry towards the break room glancing over at Dyna who is still talking to the Blond man who had followed her over.

I bust through the door and open my locker, then shut it. I open it again, glance at the shelves and my bag hanging on a hook and then shut the door again. I lean my back against the door. What the hell was that?

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AN; Hey look at me writing away, part. 2 coming up... sometime. :)

-okay, bye, thanks for reading, love you <3

#minors fuck off #bob floyd #bob floyd x female character #bobfucks #bobfloydisagentleman #top gun maverick #top gun fanfiction #bob floyd smut #tgm smut #top gun fandom #tgm #top gun fic #MoraleBoostSeries #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd #Bobby Floyd

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lilacpaperbird · 5 months

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i LOST, samgirl brainrot WON ONCE AGAIN (I bought another vintage brown carhartt jacket because the first one I got was too damn big because I'm an idiot) (if this one is too small I will end it all)

#praying I can resell the first one. bcs I can't justify the amount of money I've spent on these jackets rip #funniest thing is the first one was a men's XL. this one is a woman's S. can you see how stupid I am I have no actual perception of my body #if this one is too small for me I will cry actually

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renkenako · 4 months

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✦ KENTO YAMAZAKI, CISMALE, HE/HIM ✦ REN KANEKO the TWENTY-SEVEN year old has been in willow’s edge for THEIR ENTIRE LIFE and was an EX-BOYFRIEND to JUNE, from the deceased family. whispers on the streets are that the MECHANIC AT ONE-STOP AUTO who lives in WILLOUGHBY COMPLEX are said to be CANDID and SELF-WILLED but i guess we’ll find out for ourselves.

tw: family issues, alcohol mention

full name: kenako ren

date of birth: january 30th

star sign: aquarius

place of birth: willow's edge south carolina

family: kaneko osamu (father), nakamura miu (mother)

sexual orientation: bisexual

religion: atheist

tattoos: dueling rabbits on either thigh, flames above his left ankle, broken glass around his left elbow, a very meta tattoo with question marks above his right elbow, skull / mechanic piece on his right calf, a fat bird above the crook of his left elbow, ladder above his right ankle, "whatever forever" on his left shin, a double-headed rat on his left bicep, and a broken bone on his left forearm.

style: linen button-ups, vans and converse, vintage beer t-shirts, light-washed dad jeans, carhartt jackets, miscellaneous trucker hats, short-sleeved button-ups or bowling shirts, grey jeans, white basic tees, well-worn nike sneakers, five inch inseam gym shorts, distressed jean jackets, a canvas messenger bag, headphones as a necklace, silver rings, dark brown cargo/utility pants, and doc martens.

[ aesthetics coming later because i am tired ]

ren grew up in winslow as an only child in an upper middle class family. his mother, miu, was a stay at home mom and an artist in her free time— though most of her paid work tended to be painting storefront windows in town. his father, osamu, now works as an office administrator but back in his heyday, he was the manager of willow suite's.

while both of ren's parents are more reserved, he broke tradition and even from a young age was the kid constantly being asked to change desks at school or earn a sideways glance. make no mistake, he's not the loudmouth demanding the spotlight but he's undoubtedly the loudest in the kenako bunch, standing out just enough to stress out his father.

his father expected ren to grow out of his tendencies and mature. but the more ren got told to quiet down or to grow up or 'stay in line', the less he wanted to. at a certain point, it wasn't so much his natural instinct but a choice made of spite.

maybe that was a factor in how things went with june. having grown up around the suites given his father's job, he'd gotten to know the willows well enough. it wasn't really until that one summer— ren was twenty and working at the hotel as a bellhop, having opted not to do the whole college thing (another decision made to spite the status quo). at some point, june and him had just gotten closer. it felt a bit forbidden. boss's daughter. father's boss's daughter. they hadn't taken it public when his father had found out in a moment of wrong place, wrong time. immediately, he didn't approve, calling it inappropriate. worrying about his job, how mr. willow would see him, what he'd think. june and ren hadn't lasted too much longer after that. even though ren refused to listen to his father's demands to end it, staying in a relationship where you're not feeling very welcomed... it made sense. ren never faulted her for that. — [ together for four months, mostly private but became more public knowledge after it ended ]

after not going to college, the initial plan (from dad) was for him to follow in osamu's footsteps and work at the suites, eventually making his way up the ladder. that dream never really took off and officially died after that summer with june. it was then that ren went to trade school to become a mechanic. he'd preferred the idea of a hands on type job and, to be honest, the grim of it seemed appealing. can't be all prim and proper with oil stains. it helped too that ren had always liked cars; hot wheels were his toy of choice as a kid. now he mostly collects speeding tickets.

owns a black 1967 chevy impala that he restored himself. it's his pride and joy.

moved into willoughby complex when he was twenty-two. he had a roommate for two years before moving into his own one bedroom.

loves a capri sun. he's a fan on most flavors but his favorite is obviously pacific cooler and he cannot and will not touch the grape. at a bar, he'll either grab a simple beer or a classic rum and coke.

loves music and doesn't go anywhere without at least some type of ear buds, though he prefers headphones. — [ greta van fleet, mother mother, the black keys, ren, rainbow kitten surprise, noah kahan, creedence clearwater revival, maneskin, k.flay, tamino, etc... ]

big fan of sitting anywhere but a chair: the hood of his car, the roof of willoughby, a tall stack of tires, counters, also the floor.

general connection ideas: best friends, friends, ex-friends, pseudo siblings, ex-roommate of two years, childhood/family friends, coworkers (now or once-upon-a-time), exes [ 1. non-serious childhood "girlfriend", 2. high school girlfriend, 3. june, 4. ex from early twenties, 5. recent ex. ], fwb, one night stand, dating app match, one-sided crush, old crush?, enemy, annoyance, drinking buddy, bad/good influence, extended fam… others that i cannot think of

[ PINTEREST ]

#intro #about #bio #willowsedgeintro #this is all for now #i don't know what proofreading is

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jovoy · 8 months

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i let my friend borrow my vintage carhartt jacket at work the other day and there is approximately a zero percent chance she is going to give it back to me now. and there is definitely a zero percent chance my cowardly ass is going to ask for it back. so i suppose i am not getting my vintage carhartt jacket back. c’est la vie

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chromet · 1 year

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Tom Hardy in a vintage Carhartt Active jacket

#tom hardy #carhartt #vintage #workwear #hollywood #jacket #menswear #fashion

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speedlimit15 · 1 year

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I don’t think they would have shut my internet service off for being just one month overdue but it hasn’t been working since 8:30 this morning. But whatever I have my silly little iPad with ok service in my apartment and my phone with like perpetually one bar and a couple games and movies I can access offline. And like 250 books to read between my nook and PDFs so I’ll be ok. And I can draw. So that’s where I’m at.

Went to goodwill earlier before the grocery store, I wish I could try clothes on but I still can’t so I didn’t buy pants. I think that’s why I keep not getting them because there were a few cute pairs of nice quality this time but I just couldn’t tell if they’d be too small. But I got a beautiful red Talbots 3/4 sleeve embroidered top embroidered with a large white viney floral pattern it fits perfectly but it’s kind of fancy looking for everyday. And a vintage linen plaid lightweight button up with cuffed short sleeves and a collar I can’t button it fully bc boob opening so I gotta do the tank top underneath open shirt situation so it makes me look very gay but it’s good.

Annnddd I got a basket with a handmade cover shaped like a chicken that you can lift up the wings and there’s holes to put your hand in to access contents of said basket. Naturally I’m using this for weed purposes, basically all shared loose items (personal smoke filter, grinder, lighter) are now safe organized and smell-less (-less suffix used, for example, as in stainless steel, as the steel stains less, so do my items smell less). Ummm I’m gonna take pics later.

Oh and I got a carhartt khaki cropped jacket with chunkier sleeves and like cargo pockets it’s so cute. All for under $15 and the coffee place I went to messed my drink up barely so I got both the messed up one and better one for free. So that’s why I won’t shut up I think

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crushofdoves · 11 months

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okay since you’re the thrift store expert (imo) - i bought a pair of vintage jeans and they’re a little dirty but I am afraid to wash them. will they be ok in the washing machine?

omg hi i love this, @everyone please send me all of your thrift store questions :’)

okay SO will they survive the washer? yeah, probably. will it be good for the pants? definitely not. i would just spot-clean or handwash.

the number one rule of real denim - like thick 100% cotton denim - whether it’s vintage or not, is that you rarely need to wash them. and when you do wash them, always use cold water on a gentle cycle with very mild detergent or vinegar, and try not to put ‘em in the dryer. line-drying is always gonna be the way to go - the high heat of a tumble dryer, even on its lowest setting, is gonna wear down & shrink the material.

basically, spot clean as needed and only wash them when they are noticeably dirty or start to smell. we wash our denim every 2-3 months, sometimes even less!

this applies to pretty much any garments - especially vintage ones - made with 100% cotton - like canvas (carhartts/most brands of workwear) and t-shirts, denim jackets, etc.

#thrift store shit #this is the most fun shit to talk about what a nice break from the nonsense of fandom lately :’)

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mysterymirrors · 9 hours

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Y2K J.Crew Snap-Buttoned Hooded Utility Trench Coat - Khaki/Tan - 2P.

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stylesurrender · 18 days

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Rocawear | Vintage Men's Jean Jacket.

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benjaminhugo · 20 days

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