#first penny and now this bullshit

[bunni-v1]

hii, can I request "First Years Finding Out Your A Girl" with sebek and ortho please?

Ortho and Sebek Find out You’re a Girl?!?!?! (NOT CLICKBAIT!!!)

TW: Swearing (as usual lol); Ortho being creepy; Misogyny mention <3; Reader goes by she/her and is biologically female; Book 6 spoilers (very light, but still there); Bunni hasn't read Book 7 and therefore doesn't know what they're talking about :)

Info: Ortho x Reader; Sebek x Reader; Fem!Reader; Platonic

🍓Hi. If you’ve read the first part of this, I copy pasted the intro. Not because I’m lazy or anything (I’m a little lazy, but I’m a full-time college student who also has a part-time job, so I think I can be excused.) It’s mostly because… It’s a good intro. If people are just discovering this stuff then they can read it, but if you’ve read the first part you can just skip to the good good yk. Anyway, long-ass babble session, but I didn’t include Ortho and Sebek initially because they’re kind of new to the First year group so idk. Felt weird including them. Also, I haven’t read book seven so Sebek I bullshit a lot lol. Anyway, they’re here now, and I absolutely ADORE Ortho, so sorry if my favoritism shows.

First Years

Second Years

Third Years

Dorm Leaders

-Okay so, I know we’re all wondering, how the hell do you get away with hiding your gender for so damn long?

-Firstly, those ceremonial robes do great at hiding the figure. The only tell would maybe be your hair, but feminine men aren’t unwelcome at Nightraven College, so you mostly get a few questioning stares and that’s it.

-Secondly, Crowley wants to save his own fucking ass. He already has to hide from the press that he has a MAGICLESS student from ANOTHER DIMENSION here, he doesn’t need the fact that you are a woman ALSO on his plate. So, obviously, he helps you hide your gender from others.

-Grim knows, of course, and he keeps his mouth shut for a few yummy cans of tuna (and threats of being expelled from Crowley <3)

-Even when you were just a janitor, he couldn’t have the rumor that he put a “helpless” young woman to work. (Like it wouldn’t be expected.)

-So how do you two do it?

-Baggy ass uniform. Crowley gave you at least three sizes too big.

-Your figure is completely hidden. Sure, you look completely homeless, but at least you’re hidden.

-For your voice, you simply deepen it. After some point, you blackmail Crowley into giving you a potion to help with it, since it's so taxing on your voice. (Or maybe your voice is naturally deep!)

-Sam provides you (for an unfairly pretty penny (not too different from your original world…)) any feminine hygiene products you might need.

-Honestly, you’re set for being cared for, but it’s the adjustment period that’s the hardest part. 

-Truly, it’s very jarring to suddenly be thrown into both a magical world and be isolated in a man's world with nowhere to hide.

-At least in your world you had other women who could understand your struggles. Here though? You’re completely alone.

-You notice how… messy some of these guys could be. How some of them smell… really rancid. -How rough they were with you and each other.

-Honestly, it’s kinda eye-opening. The way men show affection to each other is oddly refreshing to watch and experience!

-Ace and Deuce specifically are a good… trial run.

-That’s not what we’re here to talk about though…

-For the most part, it's incredibly easy to hide yourself for the first while on campus. Everyone on campus is so self-absorbed that they don’t bother questioning you.

-Your only real risk factor is Savannaclaw, but it's easy to avoid those guys (minus Jack, of course).

-However, you can only hide your gender for so long… It’s mentally draining to keep up this facade all the time around people you care about.

-So… how do they find out?

Ortho 

-Okay, so Ortho is a little creepy weirdo. He’s a highly advanced robot who likely has autism, and loves his big brother a whole fucking lot. 

-(Side note: Can a robot, child, or thing have autism? Does that mean Idia programmed Ortho to be autistic? How silly of him.)

-It’s my personal head cannon that Idia DECKED this kid out in as much high-tech gear as he could get his hands on. 

-He’s equipped with some of the most complex medical features, therefore he has access to a database of all students at NRC’s medical files. (This is not legal, but he does not care for the law.)

-“But Bunni, what does that have to do with the prefect?” Well, Ortho is ALSO equipped with the latest medical scanner on the market.

-Think like Baymax, yeah? He can scan everyone one time and know every piece of medical knowledge readily available.

-Well, Ortho, the sweet little creep he is, automatically scans the medical information of any new person he sees/meets into his database — just in case it may come in handy.

-So, before he even KNOWS you. Before he speaks a single word to you, he knows you’re biologically a female.

-He scanned you without thinking and just shrugged his shoulders at it.

-You’re not from here, and you got thrown into this, so you being a woman doesn’t really matter too much to you being at NRC. 

-It honestly could’ve been anyone getting stuck here, so why should he question it?

-However, he notices that you are referred to with exclusively “male” pronouns, so he marks in your file that you are trans and moves on. 

-Again, who cares? He’s a magical robot guy based on his brother's dead brother. Who was he to judge?

-When he finally ACTUALLY gets to interact with you after being welcomed into the first-year squad, he’s very respectful of your gender.

-You are a man to him, therefore he refers to you with exclusively masculine pronouns.

-However, everyone in your little group already knows, and they assume that Ortho knows. So when they speak about you, they use feminine pronouns.

-Ortho, sweet as he is, immediately questions everyone as to why they’re misgendering you.

-Protective of the people he cares for at heart, he doesn’t like the idea that your so-called closest friends are misgendering you behind your back.

-Doesn’t believe them completely when they explain, so he goes to you because you’re the only one who knows who you really are.

-“Prefect!”

“Hey, Ortho! What’s up? Miss me?”

“Of course I do, but I have a very important question.”

“Sure, what do ya need?”

“Are you a woman?”

-At this point 90% of your friends know, but there is a handful that doesn’t… and you can’t be having that.

-You, of course, assure Ortho that you are not only a woman, but that your friends are not misgendering you behind your back.

-Relieved, he takes several of your friends off a hit list and removes the trans man label on your medical chart.

-Asks why you hid your gender in the first place.

-Promptly adds Crowley to a hit list (again).

-Ortho, out of EVERYONE at NRC, has absolutely zero behavior changes toward you. 

-He’s equally protective as he was before, he spends the same amount of time with you as usual, he doesn’t suddenly have some weird crush on you, and he’s still trying to set you up with Idia.

-Honestly, everyone should take notes from Ortho. He’s the best at this whole thing.

Sebek

-On the other hand… do not take notes from Sebek! He sucks at this! He sucks really badly!

-Out of all the first years, Sebek is not only the least close to you, but he is also incredibly mean. So you just… feel no obligation to tell him.

-In fact, you kind of… sort of… actively leave him out of the loop for a really long time.

-I mean, it's not an unreasonable thing to do. He is constantly berating you and putting you down for being human. You have no idea how he feels about women and you don’t want to find out first hand.

-In all honesty, he is the only person (other than Azul and the twins) that you’re really scared of finding out, and take extra precautions to ensure he doesn’t find out.

-However, you attend NRC, and nothing ever goes your way at NRC.

-Despite every precaution you take to keep your gender under lock and key, you overlook one thing.

-Malleus Draconia.

-His complete and total lack of social awareness is your downfall here. He finds out, and despite everything telling him to keep his mouth shut… he doesn’t. Because of course, he doesn’t.

-At this point, you’ve gone through most of your misadventures, and most — if not all — of your friends know you’re a girl.

-Hell, even Silver knows now. Everyone BUT Sebek knows.

-And he finds out because Malleus casually mentions it over dinner. Not even directly about your gender, he just uses she/her pronouns.

-Sebek, being Sebek, respectfully asks Malleus if he meant to say he. Malleus, of course, says no without a second thought.

-The shock and horror on Silver and Lilia’s faces was enough to be further confirmation.

-And Sebek’s world shatters.

-He was completely left out of the loop and also has a moral conflict now.

-As much shit, as I gave Sebek (as everyone gives Sebek) he RESPECTS women. His queen is a woman, and his mother is a woman. 

-In his eyes, women are some of the strongest people around. Regardless of if they’re human or not.

-You, on top of being a human from another realm who had successfully quelled several of the strangest students at NRC’s OVERBLOTS and came out on top, was also a woman.

-If that wasn’t strength, he didn’t know what it was.

-However, his bias against humans strongly clashes with his respect for women in this case.

-And it just… messes with his head. 

-He doesn’t treat you worse, in fact, he’s just… really awkward around you now.

-He doesn’t know if he should apologize or berate you for being a human, so he just stays stiff and glares at you.

-It's honestly more scary than him constantly talking down to you.

-However, once the two of you actually befriend one another, he apologizes to you. For everything, and explains where he’s coming from. Why he acted the way he did, how he really feels about you, and all that sweet shit.

-Afterwards, he is genuinely the best at keeping your secret (if he even needs to at this point).

-If there is anyone you can trust to keep his stupid mouth shut at NRC, it's Sebek. 

-His honor and pride force him into silence when it comes to secrets he promises to keep.

-In fact, if anyone is on your trail about it, he’s the first one to jump in the way and scare them off/shut them down.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #x reader #twst headcanons #bunni's treats 🧁 #ortho shroud #ortho shroud x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek zigvolt x reader

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

pt XVI good omens season 2 (still not traumatic) episode 3 EDINBURGH

HELLO IT'S ME IT'S THE OFFICIAL GOOD OMENS MASCOT WHY DO I STILL KEEP INTRODUCING MYSELF IDK. If you don't know who I am, thank God and Satan for their mercy and flee. Also, the day after I post this, I'll be watching the last three episodes on livestream for the first time so. You know. I'm hyped on the energy of this being my last day not enveloped in tears. Take the summary:

Before the episode starts, someone asks why Crowley said in the last episode that Aziraphale couldn't fall because look at him, all angelic when Crowley looked the same as starmaker. I reply that "Crowley thinks he deserved it, he sees Azi as something beautiful and untouched while he probably sees himself as idk marked in some way so god kicked him down."

I am told that I am learning too fast to weaponise the narrative to induce angst. So then I say oh, I go too fast for you. Tears ensue.

The episode begins! Everyone shrieks about Edinburgh, David Tennant, how it is their favourite episode, and SCOTTISH CROWLEY.

We open with lesbians being gay, and then Muriel enters as Inspector Constable! They are very sweet and very determined to do their job right, and they are adopted by Crowley and Aziraphale just like Jim.

Crowley sits on Aziraphale's chair's arm. The maggots all swoon.

Fine, I also swooned.

Aziraphale gaslight-gatekeep-girlboss-mansplain-manipulate-manwhores his way into getting Crowley to give him the Bentley keys (BOUNDARIES. BOUNDARIES.).

WHAT PLENTY OF USE DO BOTH OF YOU GET OUT OF THE BOOKSHOP?

The really ineffable plan is whatever the fuck was happening in Aziraphale's brain when he somehow went from London to Edinburgh via Loch Ness (check the map) and then proceeded to disguise himself as a detective who pretends to be a journalist.

Crowley slays in sleeve garters and a cardigan keeping house in the bookshop meanwhile, does not sell books, instead cleans with Jimbriel and periodically yeets book stacks into corners when distracted.

Aziraphale reads his old diary entries about Crowley, a (6000+) 13 year old with a crush.

MINISODE MINISODE. They are in Edinburgh during the mid 1800s. Victorian outfits, check. Scottish Crowley, check. Capitalist Karen Aziraphale, che-wait what.

Huh. Well. There's a wee bit of body snatchin' going on, to sell to doctors for medical research because there aren't enough murderers, and to make enough money to survive.

Aziraphale channels his inner capitalist judgemental Karen and ruins that plan, come on Aziraphale you have religious trauma but you're better than this, and long story short, Wee Morag dies after Aziraphale realises his error, her friend Elspeth has to sell her corpse for pennies, and is about to commit suicide with laudanum. Azi, oh god. I'm glad you underwent character development at least.

NOW CROWLEY HERE SLAYS. I KNOW THIS IS AZIRAPHALE'S PERSPECTIVE AND IS BIASED. BUT WITH THIS POV, CROWLEY SLAYS.

He calmly educates Aziraphale about how his whole "the poor have more opportunities and you shouldn't give them money or they'll lose the virtue of poverty" is absolute bullshit, and he does this understanding Aziraphale's situation and not losing his temper.

The framing. The framing of the shot when they see Wee Morag and Elspeth sitting down on a step and explaining their situation. Aziraphale stands above, bustling with righteousness, and judges them. Crowley sits down. He sits down next to them, rather than taking the high ground. He meets them where they are and empathises. It is the fact that he is fallen and damned that makes him behave really divine and sorry I wrote a whole hymn on him have it I'll stop rambling just know I love him.

I think his amusement is a facade so hell won't think he's genuinely being good. I think he's morally grey and incredibly brave and kind.

When Elspeth is bouta kill herself with the laudanum, Crowley grabs it and drinks it himself, and grows tiny and then huge, absolutely high off his head. David Tennant takes the opportunity to travel Scotland from east to west in terms of accent variety.

He gives us the good message of NO DYIN'. NO MORE DYIN'. IT'S NOT ON. And then forces Aziraphale (who doesn't want to ruin her virtuous poverty) to give the girl all the guineas he has in his pocket, and tells her to go off and start a farm or something. BUT NOT JUST PRETENDY GOOD, BE PROPERLY GOOD.

He then gets pulled into hell. To be punished for this. Aziraphale is frightened and heartbroken for him, looking around desperately, and we find out that Crowley didn't meet him for a while after. And later he wanted holy water. To protect himself? He got punished by hell. For how long? The whole month in between the incident and the diary entry? There can't be anyone better at punishment and cruelty than hell.

Sorry I'm just screaming here.

Never mind fuck I started this summary really happy and bouncy and listening to a dance playlist. Dionysus by BTS and Italian pop is still playing and now I'm crying.

Is this the natural progression. Fuck I'm crying. Sorry guys something else happens with Aziraphale politely talking to a phone and Crowley smiling really beautifully while unsuccessfully trying to manipulate two lesbians into a relationship and something about a visit I don't care everyone's being morally dubious as usual and then lovely Scottish music outro I CAN'T FUCKING ELABORATE I'M SITTING HERE CRYING OVER CROWLEY.

right summary done, time to go sob, lmao i thought i wouldn't cry today over good omens HAHAHAHA still not traumatic eh HAHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

#good omens mascot #good omens #good omens fandom #weirdly specific but ok #asmi #crowley #maggots #lgbtqia #aziraphale #neil gaiman #edinburgh #scotland minisode #victorian minisode #scottish crowley #david tennant #michael sheen #ineffable fandom #ineffable idiots #good ineffable omens #ineffable brainrot #good omens brainrot #CRYING OVER FICTIONAL CHARACTERS #AGAIN #YAY #anthony j crowley #starmaker #wee morag #elspeth and wee morag

[leviathanspain]

kiss it off me

carmy berzatto x reader

synopsis: the woman who made him a man is back in town and he can barely hold it together

a/n: i tried to make it cohesive without rushing it, but oh well..enjoy!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

no one ever forgot their first time.

it was the sweetest taste, your cherry flavor stained lips, chapped from the dry chicago heat. he remembered the way they felt, soft and rubbery, his teeth had caught on them. then the fruity flavor had turned to iron, but he still kissed you as hard as he did the first time.

after he had bitten you, you had asked gently if he had ever done this before. carmen answered honestly, and you promised you’d teach him everything you knew.

but that had been years ago, and a lifetime of memories had occurred since then, that when richie had mentioned your name, carmy couldn’t place you.

“what was it again?” carmy asked, hands on his hips as he thought hard of what richie had just said.

“y/n. come on, cousin, don’t tell me you forgot!” his neck vein popped out, and carmy shook his head, his hands rubbing across his face as he thought hard.

“was she in school with me? how do you know her?” carmy shot out any questions that could connect you to him in his mind. it sounded familiar, the way richie said your name with thousands of memories behind it.

richie shrugged, “you brought this girl around to every single thing your family threw! she was your little girlfriend-“

“holy fuck- penny?” it was as if all the gears in carmy’s head had finally turned at the right time. he remembered you, of course he remembered you. he had to sift through all the bullshit of the past decade but now, it was like a fresh breath of air.

“penny? i swear her name was y/n.” richie raised his eyebrow, “i saw her at some magazine stand down the street, and i swear she looked familiar-“

“pennington. penny’s for pennington. i-“ carmy chuckled slightly, “mikey called me bear once, when she was around. and she had wanted a nickname like that.” richie could see the warmth in carmy’s face as he talked about you.

richie nodded in response, giving a second for carmy to come back down to earth. “i invited her to opening night. she’s one of those people who mold shit outta clay-“ he demonstrated with his hands, carmy’s eyes just staring out.

“cousin-“

“you invited her to opening night?” carmy echoed, and richie stared, hands falling onto the counter. he nodded, irritated with carmy’s absentmindedness.

“i want to be someone to be remembered.” the crinkle of the empty beer cans underneath your feet, followed your speech, “i want to be an artist!” your hands shot out, the drink in your left hand had partially spilled, but you didn’t seem to notice as you took another swig of it.

carmy’s face was hot. he felt it heat up after his first drink, and now had spent the entire night nervously pulling at his collar, trying to keep up with you.

you had driven him out to the suburbs in your mother’s beaten up volvo. he had gotten drinks, but hadn’t revealed how. but it didn’t matter, as the two of you were out, feet dangling above the ground, sitting in the trunk.

you turned to look at him. he looked beautiful in the moonlight, his blue eyes were deep, like pools of water that you wanted to get lost in.

“don’t you want to be an artist too, carmy?” your voice was soft, set to the pitch of innocence as you brought your hand up to caress his cheek. carmy was shy, eyes always darting away from yours, hands drawn up to his sides. it had taken a lot of convincing for him to even come out with you, but with the beer he had brought, you realized he could still surprise you.

it was in between your question and his answer that you had kissed him. it wasn’t the first time, there had been many more times since. but the passion was the same, the desire for more was always weighing heavy.

“yes..” carmy spoke, closing his eyes as your hands began to unbuckle his belt. he shivered, grabbing your hands, he helped you undo his belt, breath hitching as you kissed him harder.

carmen had been incredibly stressed all day. he had been stressed ever since richie had told him that you’d be coming to opening night. he had tried not to induce an attack, last time he saw you there had been a fight, and it was silence ever since.

but now, just the idea of your presence loomed over him like doomsday. today, even without you, could make or completely annihilate his career. but he was ready to face either or. you had taught him that, better or for worse.

“hey cousin!” richie thundered through the kitchen doors, his suit was dark and sleek, contrasting the chef coats everyone else was wearing. “y/n is at table five. sugar is talking to her, and it looks very,” he paused, and looked at carmy, “interesting.”

carmy sighed, “fuck.” he was busy, too busy that it should be inhumanly possible. he grabbed a towel, one that hung loosely over his shoulder and wiped his hands, “what did she order?” he looked around at all the other workers, looked at their plates and tried to guess.

richie smiled, crossing his arms across his chest as he spoke, “nothing.”

carmy had felt his face rise with heat as he slammed through the kitchen doors. he felt embarrassed, a little shocked even, that you hadn’t ordered anything for dinner.

he turned to the sound of sugar’s laugh, a familiar sound, he had found himself already walking over to the table. you hadn’t seen him yet, natalie had all your focus.

“hey-“ he greeted. sugar was the first to turn, and happily greeted her brother. you followed suit, but you didn’t say anything as the two exchanged a few words. instead you stared at carmy, years older, and completely unknown to you.

“hey bear.” you greeted, voice sweet on his name, you stood up, going in for a tight hug. he smelled of food, not surprising for someone who was just in the kitchen.

“hey pen..” he returned your greeting, and looked at his sister, who excused herself politely.

the two of you just stood for a moment, carmy watching as sugar circled around to talk to richie. carmy turned back to you, and extended his hand to your chair. you both sat, now face to face.

you looked different. the teenage invincibility had been exchanged for a confident, self assured adult. your eyes were still the kindest ones, he felt at ease just staring into them.

his eyes avoided your lips, avoided what they reminded him of.

“richie tells me your a sculptor?” carmy didn’t know why, but that was the first thing he had thought to ask. you laughed, surprised at his question too. but you nodded nevertheless, “yes, a local gallery is displaying some of my work. that’s why i’m back.” you played around with your silverware, and cleared your throat, “this is really lovely, carm. it’s-“ you looked around at it all, at the bustling scenery with various happy customers. “i’m really happy for you.” you finished.

carmy nodded, “yeah. thank you.” he blinked, and remembered what he had wanted to really ask. “are you not hungry or-“ you followed his gaze to the empty plate in front of you and you laughed, “oh- right!” you shrugged, “i don’t know actually. i guess i wanted to see if it was really you.” the way the words came out felt wrong, and you were quick to explain yourself.

“i didn’t mean it like that-“ you assured, and carmy laughed slightly, “i just hadn’t seen you in years that i almost didn’t believe it.” carmy nodded, “well, i’m here..im right here.”

the two of you locked eyes in that moment.

it was a special moment, something of substance that could ground carmy, and remind him of all the good things in life.

you tore your eyes away, and awkwardly laughed, “my show is next friday.” a card had appeared in your hands, and you were scooting it across the table to him, “i already gave one to your sister, and another to richie when i first saw him. you don’t have to come, i just figured-“ you looked around and he nodded, “yeah. no, totally. i’ll go.”

he found himself agreeing to go before he even fully thought it through.

he stood up, grabbing the card he tucked it into his coat. you looked up at him, eyes twinkling.

“bye carm.”

“bye pen.”

“you’ve got to calm down.” sydney had found herself at the end of an almost accident. carmy had forgotten the safe word, and nearly ran into sydney, who was carrying a large pot of boiling water.

she had set the pot down, realizing that there was something wrong with carmen.

carmy ignored her, and continued to furiously cook.

“hey-“ sydney put a hand on his shoulder but that seemed to make it all worse. carmy flinched, and dropped his spatula. he stepped back and shook his head, “back off, chef.”

“carm-“

“now.” his tone cut deep, and sydney nodded, annoyed with his response, she went back to work.

carmy’s hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. wind cut at his face, weaving through all the people on his way to the gallery.

he had checked the date and time multiple times, all day. he wanted to get it right, be there for you like you were for him. it had been a week since opening night, and he had thought about you every single night since.

you waited for him. people kept coming up to you, congratulating you on your new work, but none of it mattered. the work wasn’t for them, it was for him. and he was late.

“i could stay-“ carmy looked around nervously, eyes darting anywhere but the pools of pain in your eyes.

“no.” you bluntly said, “you will not stay here. you cant stay here. trust me carmen, you’re better off.” you had come to terms with the fact that if he stayed, he would be another mikey.

that’s why you had begged mikey not to let carmy work at the beef. he would never leave if he did.

carmy sighed, exhausted from the hours of arguing, “we’ll talk every day. i’ll- i can make time, between class-“ he tripped over his own words, and you had to stop him before it got worse.

“carmy-“ the way you looked at him made him realize that this was it. there was not going to be any calls, or any relationship because you were breaking up with him.

“i got into art school. i’ve been wanting to tell you, but i hadn’t made a decision.” you paused, “this is what’s best for both of us, bear.”

you had spotted him walking in. in the sea of pretentiousness, there he was. his wool jacket, perfect against the chilly weather, it had reminded you of all those winters during school.

“carmy!” you called his name, and waved him over. he weaved through to you, and greeted you with a hug and a kiss, “hey.”

he looked around at all artwork, “looks incredible.” he realized that along with sculptures, you had paintings as well. it was a cohesive collection, something that would definitely get talked about.

but as he looked at more work, he realized with a pang what the theme was. you followed him as he walked all around the gallery, until he finally got the main piece of work.

it was behind a rope, a blue velvet rope on all four sides as carmy, in statue form, looked out into the room of people.

“holy shit-“ he sounded breathless, eyes glued to a perfect posed, stone version of himself.

you watched his expression, unable to decipher how he was feeling. whether he was happy about it or not, you couldn’t tell.

more people came behind you to admire the statue, and carmy looked away, “is that it?” you nodded, and reached out, “come on, there’s one more thing, exclusive for the muse.”

muse, he whispered under his breath. he was your muse.

you took carmy to the office of the gallery. you had set up shop there, your belongings were scattered across the desk. you walked up to the desk, and leaned against it.

carmy walked in after you, and looked expectantly at you. you sighed, “you were the reason i came back. this,” there was a window where the statue could be seen, along with other pieces inspired by him. “was for you. you’ve been something that i’ve been trying to make right.”

carmy shook his head, “i’m not some broken toy that you can fix, penny.” your nickname cut like a blade in that moment and you exhaled. “i know that.” you replied, “i just- i cant get you out of my head, carmy. for years i’ve tried,” you stood up off the desk, and walked towards him.

carmy instinctively wrapped his hands around your waist, sitting them perfectly on your curves. you both remained silent as you got closer. but he was pulling you in too, just too close for comfort.

“come on, bear.” you whispered, nose dragging across his cheek, you closed your eyes and hoped he’d kiss you.

carmy shivered, his grip on you tightened as he kissed your cheek. it was soft, innocent almost. you opened your eyes, bringing your hands up to his face as you pulled him in for a kiss.

it was new. you hadn’t kissed him since you were teenagers. he was inexperienced, but he was willing to learn. but now as you kissed him, you realized that he’s kissed hundreds of people since then. but you didn’t care. you loved his taste, cigarettes and everything sweet.

he kissed you harder, his hands tightening on your hips that it was almost painful. you couldn’t help yourself, you pressed against him, carmy’s back digging into the wall behind him.

“fuck-“ you kissed him more, lips dragging from his to his neck. he shivered, but didn’t say anything as you began to kiss him lower and lower.

the bustling noise of the people outside broke him out whatever this was, and carmy put a hand on yours, which was right on his belt buckle. “not here.” he panted right into your lips, “later you can kiss it all off me, but not here.” he felt naked, those people out there were gawking at his stone figure like some lost greek artifact.

he couldn’t do it now.

you nodded, lingering in his eyes, “of course, bear. time and place, i’ll be there.” you leaned in for a kiss, which carmy happily gave away. a part of him wondered what this would be. he couldn’t think, he wouldn’t.

“i’ll- im gonna go, pen.” he had taken a minute, looking at the door for a moment before opening it. he exhaled deeply, stepping out as the door shut behind him.

you watched him walk, his broad back being lost in the crowd of onlookers. you tried to ignore the urge to smile, but even then, you couldn’t hide it.

#carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy angst #carmy x reader #carmy smut #carmy x you #carmy the bear #the bear angst #the bear smut #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader

[sailor-aviator]

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Nine

Meet Me at the Sea: Chapter Nine

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Summary: Your best friend, Bob Floyd, had insisted you join him for the summer at his family's home along the Carolina coasts. You had been hesitant at first, but ultimately agreed to his request. Now, here you were in a new town with strange locals who spoke in hushed whispers and cryptic retellings about glistening scales, glowing eyes, and haunting songs that echoed from the sea. You didn't believe them at first, but when you wake up on the beach one morning after having fallen overboard the night before, you can't help but think that maybe you hadn't imagine the strong arms and deep, green eyes of the man that had saved you.

Trigger warnings: Language, Angst, Talk of death, Talk of losing a loved one, Mentions of drinking, Talk of Magic, Character Deaths, Graphic description of a dead body. I think that's it, but let me know if I missed anything.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: This...was a doozy lol Also, if you DO NOT fill out the form below (Tag List) then you will not be tagged! I will be referring to that Google form from now on! As always, reblogs, comments and likes are greatly appreciated! Asks/requests are always open! 18+ ONLY!! You can find me on AO3 under sailor_aviator where I also post my updates!

Series Masterlist || Moodboards || Playlist || Jake "Hangman" Seresin Tag List

The restaurant wasn’t as crowded as the other night, and you supposed that was due to the fact that it was the middle of the week. Penny was stationed behind the bar, cleaning out the glasses in between drink orders. You were cushioned between Jake and Natasha at the round table, picking at the fries left on Jake’s plate as he looked at you fondly. His arm rested on the back of the booth behind you, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair as you joked with the group.

“And then Bob over here decided that it would be a good idea to climb on top of this guy’s roof!” You grinned, earning a groan from the man in question.

“I hate this damn story,” he pouted, leaning back and running a hand over his face as the others peered over at him.

“Sweet, innocent Bobby climbed on top of some guy’s roof?” Bradley asked, leaning forward to look down the table at the blushing man.

“It wasn’t that big a deal,” Bob grumbled.

“That was the drunkest I’ve ever seen him,” you told the group. “He kept saying something about being able to fly and something else about the cannonball to end all cannonballs, but I was just so focused on getting him down that I wasn’t really paying attention.”

“Oh yeah?” Bob smirked, giving you a devious look that made the smile drop from your face. “And what about the time I had to haul your ass back to your apartment because you almost went skinny dipping with the sharks?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit,” he grinned, leaning towards you. “You were crying your eyes out for twenty minutes because you thought we were hurting their feelings by going home.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as the group broke out into fits of giggles, scowling at your best friend and his smug expression. You felt Jake shift next to you, placing a soft kiss to your temple before leaning back.

“Don’t worry, Angelfish,” he winked as you looked at him. “I’m sure you didn’t hurt their feelings.”

“I’m sure they were more upset they didn’t get an easy meal,” Bradley joked. “Although, they say that humans taste like plastic.”

“They?” You questioned. “You mean the sharks?”

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I asked them once. Said that humans taste icky.”

“I’m sorry,” you blinked, “are you trying to tell me that you can talk to sharks?”

“I wouldn’t really call it talking,” Javy amended, casting a pointed look at Bradley who shrugged. “It’s more like, we can sense the intentions.”

“Like telepathy?” You asked.

“Sort of,” Reuben nodded. “It’s kind of hard to explain. It has a lot to do with the magic.”

“Huh,” you murmured thoughtfully, glancing at Bradley. “And they told you that people taste…icky?”

“That was the general vibe, yeah,” he shrugged. “I asked them one day after I ran into a group of them and they kept avoiding me.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just because it was you?” Nat asked with a raise of her eyebrow. “Maybe it’s just you who tastes icky.”

The rest of you burst into a fit of laughter as Bradley scowled, the noise dying down as a figure approached your table.

“Hey guys,” Cole grinned as he stopped in front of the table.

“Hey, Cole!” Mickey greeted, “what brings you by?”

“Did you wanna join us?” Reuben offered, Mickey and Javy already scootching in to make room on either side of the booth. Cole shook his head, raising his hand to stop them.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he smiled, eyes darting to you. “I was just coming by to pick up some lunch for me and my aunt when I saw you guys, and I figured I’d say hi.”

“Saw you chatting up some of the girls at the dance the other night,” Bradley said with a wolfish grin. “See anybody that caught your eye?”

“Maybe,” Cole smirked, looking at him. “Did you guys have a good time?”

“I thought all the costumes were really amazing,” you hummed, “but I didn’t get to see much of it, unfortunately.”

“That’s a shame,” Cole murmured with a frown. “Well, hopefully you’ll get to see more of the next one here in a couple of weeks.”

“What’s that?” You asked.

“The Moonlight Masquerade,” Bob supplied with a roll of his eyes. “It’s another costume party. Everybody gathers downtown to check out the local vendors, but the actual dancing is at city hall.”

“A perfect excuse to take you dress shopping again,” Natasha grinned as you wrinkled your nose.

“Are you going to let me pay for my own dress this time?” You asked, earning a short laugh from the brunette.

“Nope!” She grinned, popping the “P.” You rolled your eyes but smiled fondly at her, turning your attention back to Cole.

“I don’t suppose your aunt will have more jewelry for me to wear?” You questioned, fingers curled around the pendant holding the black pearl that hung around your neck. You felt Jake press closer into your side, his arm moving down to encase you as Cole gave you a smirk.

“I’m sure she will.” he hummed, eyes shifting to look behind you at Jake with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “She just got a new shipment of masks in that we’re working on putting out today. Stop by soon before they’re all gone. I’ll even give you the friends and family discount.”

“That sounds great!” You chirped, turning to give Nat an excited look. She flashed you a quick smile in return, eyes quickly looking back up at Cole in curiosity.

“I didn’t know you had that discount,” she murmured, arching a brow. Cole shrugged good-naturedly.

“We don’t, but what my aunt doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by soon,” you assured him.

“It was good to see you all,” he smiled, giving a small wave before turning to collect his food from Penny. You all waved at him as he exited, turning back to your conversation.

“He’s always so nice,” you commented, earning a disgruntled hum from beside you.

“Maybe a little too nice,” Jake muttered with a frown. You raised an eyebrow at him in amusement.

“Are you jealous, crooner?” You teased, fighting the smile that threatened to overtake you. Jake scoffed, pressing his lips into a thin line as he looked at you.

“You gonna go and run off with him?”

You pretended to think about it, earning a less than amused look from the blond man sitting next to you. Finally, you shook your head, shooting him a wink. “Nah, I’ve already got great company right here.”

Jake let out a please hum this time, leaning in to place a gentle kiss to your temple, earning a gag from across the table.

“You two are gross,” Bradley frowned, wrinkling his nose at the two of you. “Let’s go before I lose my lunch.”

You sat on the blanket that did little to shield you from the sand underneath, the sun casting a golden glow over the beach as it crept towards the horizon. It was just you on the blanket, the others running around with a football in some game they had made up years ago. You grinned as you watched them, laughing when Jake’s team scored and he yelled out in victory, the whoops and hollers from his teammates joining him. You reached for a bottle of water when you noticed Bradley trotting towards you, his skin slick with sweat as he collapsed beside you. Wordlessly, you handed him the water, turning your attention back towards the game as he took a long sip, catching his breath as he did so.

“Having fun?” He grinned up at you, his sunglasses obscuring his eyes.

“Oh, most definitely,” you grinned down at him, wiggling your eyebrows. He barked out a laugh as he laid down, resting his hands on his stomach. You turned your attention back to the game as the two of you sat in silence for a few moments.

“How are you feeling about everything?” He asked, turning his head to look at you.

“About what?” You countered, arching a brow.

“You know,” he prodded, propping himself up on an elbow to get a better look at you. “The true mate stuff.”

“Oh,” you breathed, glancing back at where the others were still heavily engrossed in their game. “I’m okay with it.”

“Oh yeah?” Bradley challenged, sitting up fully now. “Somehow I don’t think you’ve really thought about it like you should.”

“And you’re suddenly an expert?” You huffed, earning a half-hearted shrug.

“It’s serious shit, Skipper. None of us want to see either of you get hurt. True mates is nothing to shrug off.”

“Look,” you sighed, “I get that it’s a big deal, okay? But why do you care so much? How could we possibly get hurt?”

Bradley was quiet for a moment, a frown tugging on his lips as he stared off into the ocean. You were about to say something when he broke the silence.

“Did you know that the house Jake and I live in used to belong to my mom and dad?”

That grabbed your attention. You had met everyone else’s parents over the course of the past few weeks, but you had yet to meet Bradley’s. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that you couldn’t recall a time when he had talked about them either.

“I didn’t know that,” you said carefully, eyeing him wearily. He gave you a tight-lipped smile before continuing.

“Yeah, it’s the house I grew up in. My dad was a sea person, you know? He, Mav, and Ice used to be best friends growing up, and he actually grew up in the house himself. He and my mom knew each other since they were babies.”

“Were they true mates?” You asked him, bringing your knees up to your chin as you listened to him.

“They were,” he nodded, and there was a profound sense of sadness rolling off of him as he spoke. “My dad used to say that he knew she was his even before he knew he was a sea person. Said everyone around them knew they were in love before they knew what that meant.”

“That sounds like a fairytale,” you murmured, and Bradley let out a humorless chuckle.

“It was, I guess. My mom was the happiest person you’d ever meet, actually,” he rasped, a sad smile tugging at the edge of his lips at whatever memories played through his head. “She always had a smile and joke for someone, and my dad always called her ‘sunshine.’ He was a great guy too, you know. He’d always help out when he could, and I remember that he was really funny.”

“Oh, Bradley,” you whispered, tears kissing at your lashes. “Can I ask what happened?”

He was quiet for another moment.

“It was a hurricane,” he breathed, emotion thick in his voice. “I was fifteen at the time, and I remember Mav and Ice coming by the house to ask for his help down at the marina. My mom told him not to go, that she had a bad feeling, but my dad could never say no when someone needed his help.”

He took a shuddering breath, a hand coming up to wipe at his eyes, pushing his sunglasses up against his forehead before taking them off and letting them drop down onto the sand.

“I stayed up with my mom that night, sitting with her as she sat on the couch, just waiting for him to come home. But then, she got up and just started pacing, clawing at her throat like she couldn’t breathe, and I tried to get her to calm down, I really did,” he sniffed, and for a moment, he was transformed back into the fifteen year old boy he was when this happened. You reached out a hand, placing it gently on one of his as he continued on. “And then she just stopped, and it was like a light went out in her eyes. Then she let out this scream. I’ll never forget the sound of it, Skipper. Not for as long as I live. It was like someone reached inside her chest and ripped her heart out. It wasn’t until Ice and Mav showed up on our doorstep that I found out what happened.”

He looked at you then, a haunted look in his honey-colored eyes.

“Turns out,” he muttered, “that my dad had been trying to help some fishermen make it to shore, but the current got away from all of them. The boat smashed up against the rocks, pinning my dad and crushing him, and because of their bond, my mom felt every second of it. She felt it when he-”

He cut himself off, pressing his lips firmly together as if afraid to speak the word aloud. You squeezed his hand gently.

“When did your mom pass?” You asked quietly. Bradley stared at you for a second before letting out a bitter sounding laugh.

“She’s not dead, Skipper,” he murmured, causing you to blink in shock.

“What?”

“No, she’s very much alive,” he sighed, drawing patterns in the sand by his feet. “But she’s never been the same, and she might as well have died for how little she’s been present since it happened.”

You balked at the bitterness in his voice.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he spat, “that when my dad died, the part of her that made her her did too. She hasn’t been able to utter a single word since it happened, and from that day, I was on my own. I took care of her for years because she was just this empty shell. She didn’t laugh, or smile, or love anymore. Then my grandparents, her parents, made plans to move to Florida, and they made the arrangements to take her with them. I got to keep the house and everything and invited Jake to move in with me because I couldn’t stand the thought of being there by myself. I wouldn’t.”

You didn’t even notice that you had started crying until Bradley looked up at you, grimacing as he reached up to wipe your tears away.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Skipper,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, honest. I just wanted you to know what you were getting yourself into. I want you to think about what you’re risking if you agree to all of this.”

“I know,” you sniffled, “and I appreciate you telling me all that, Bradley, I do.”

Bradley nodded silently, and you reached over to wrap him up in a hug, squeezing him tightly.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” you told him. “It sounds like they really loved each other.”

He gave you a short squeeze back. “They did.”

The sound of your friends growing closer had you shifting your focus forward just as Jake dropped down at your other side, pulling you close to place a smacking kiss to your forehead.

“Gross!” You giggled, pushing him away. “You’re all sweaty, get away from me!”

He feigned hurt as his green eyes twinkled with mischief. He reached out for you, pulling you closer and rubbing his forehead against your shoulder.

“Ah, but Angelfish,” he smirked, “I thought you’d miss me!”

“Not when you’re gross!” You shrieked, trying in vain to pull away from him. He let out a laugh as you made a disgusted face at him, the two of you dissolving into a mess of giggles.

“Is he fucking giggling?” Mickey asked Nat, giving Jake an incredulous look. “Since when does golden boy giggle?”

“Since he fell in love!” Nat sing-songed in a teasing voice, laughing as Jake flipped both of them off. You chanced a glance at Bradley only to find that he was back to his usual happy self, not a trace of the sadness that had just surrounded him. You shifted your focus back to Jake who was looking at you quizzically.

“Everything alright, Angel?”

“Just peachy, Crooner,” you smiled, pecking his cheek. He chased after you as you pulled away, placing a firm, sweet kiss to your lips. You hummed happily against him, hearing a gagging sound from off to the side.

“You two are disgusting,” Javy remarked, rolling his eyes. You pulled away from Jake to give him a knowing look.

“You’re one to talk,” you told him, smirking. The others looked back and forth between the two of you as Nat shifted nervously.

“What are you talking about?” Reuben asked, earning a half hearted shrug from you.

“Oh, nothing,” you giggled, a saccharine smile on your face as you batted your eyes innocently. “So, what’s the plan for tonight?”

You walked alongside Bob down the cool sands of the beach towards his home, the last remnants of the sun fading below the horizon.

“What did you and Bradley talk about?” He asked you, glancing at you curiously. “Seemed pretty serious.”

You didn’t answer right away, unsure as to how much Bradley had actually told the others.

“He was telling me about his parents,” you decided on. You heard Bob suck in a breath as the two of you continued walking.

“He’s never told us the whole story, you know,” Bob murmured. “All we know is that his dad died one night and his mom was never the same after that. He missed some school because of it, too. We tried to get him to talk about it once, but he just brushed us off and acted like he was okay. Eventually, we stopped pushing him to.”

“I think it still really affects him,” you said quietly. “He told me the whole story. I guess he thought I needed to hear it in order to make an informed decision about what to do.”

“And what is it you want to do, Skip?” He asked, looking over at you now. You considered his words.

“I suppose,” you hummed, “that I’m not exactly sure yet. I have a lot to think about now.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, grimacing slightly. “That’s fair.”

“How are you feeling about all of this?” You asked him, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. He rolled his eyes at you.

“You two are disgusting,” he scoffed. “Why don’t you two get a room?”

“We agreed to take it slow,” you shrugged, causing Bob to belt out a laugh as he almost tripped into the sand.

“You could have fooled all of us!” He snickered, earning a scowl from you. You punched his arm lightly, trying in vain to hold back your smile.

“You’re such a jerk sometimes,” you giggled. He swung an arm over your shoulder, pulling you close by your neck as you squawked in protest.

“Just gotta tell my best friend how it is,” he beamed. You went to respond, but let out a grunt as Bob stopped short, nearly making you trip over your own feet. The smile was gone from his face as he narrowed his eyes in confusion at something ahead of the two of you. You turned to try and see what he was looking at. Up ahead, a large lump lay amidst the sand, and the two of you pulled apart to make your way slowly up to the mysterious object.

The clouds rolled out from in front of the moon, illuminating the beach with the pale rays. Your heart stopped as the object became clear. It was a girl, that much was plain. She wore no clothing, and her skin was pale. Her torso was practically hallowed out, deep, angry claw marks etched into her bloated skin, her familiar blue eyes widened in a mixture of shock and fear. Her lips were still parted as if she had been killed mid-scream, a gaping hole in her neck that made the contents of your stomach churn.

Mandy.

Her brown hair still clung to her face from the water, and you heard Bob let out a curse beside you. That was when you heard the screaming, a panicked, high-pitched wailing echoing along the beach. Your eyes were still trained on the body in front of you, her limbs twisted in an unnatural fashion. Your hands gripped at Bob’s arm, and you felt him run a hand over your hair as the screaming continued. Shouts could be heard coming from the street, and you felt the fresh, hot tears cascading down your face as the voices grew closer. It wasn’t until Bob pulled you into his arms, cradling your head close to his chest that you realized that it was you who was screaming. Your screams died down, turning into violent sobs as you clung to Bob, unable to block out the image of Mandy lying there, even after you closed your eyes.

Tag List: @jakeseresinlover @haley-hotchner @queerqueenlynn @dempy @fanficfandomlove @aworldwideapart @stoptaking-the-good-names @maximus890 @sky2nd @devil-angel-winchester @hopip99 @hookslove1592 @lemmons1998 @yuckosworld @uniquedreamlandcheesecake @imamomof8 @pietrothemovie @kmc1989 @mamachasesmayhem @hangmansgbaby @imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog @deliriousfangirl61 @hangmandruigandmav @na-ta-sh-aa @witchybabel @keyrani @i-wanna-be-your-muse @buckysteveloki-me @clancycucumber230 @dreamlandcreations @emotionallysalty @fandom-life-12 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @nouis-bum @topherwrites @squeaky-bumblbee22 @hangmansgbaby @goldenseresinretriever @bobgasm @linkpk88 @number-0-iz @xl-pr @stillreadingfantasy @shibble @horseshoegirl

@nerdytreeflower @roostersforevergirl @bucky-sdoll @alldaysdreamer @piceous21 @ziuridian @princessofglitterland @agentorange9595 @reidshearts @lynnevanss @pittbull-enthusiast @mrsevans90 @powellssugarbaby @amortentiadrops @redbarn1995 @queenies1x1 @craftytrashprincess @owenniasstars @els-marvelvsp @blue-aconite @mycobrakai1972 @callsigncurse @ellavm @luversgirl @shotgunhallelujah @jupitercomet @waltermis @eloquentdreamer-blog1 @seresinslady @the-house-of-rose-and-ember @possessedmarshmallow @jessicab1991 @princess76179 @maydayfigment

#meet me at the sea #mmats #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #jake hangman seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin fanfiction #hangman #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman fanfiction #top gun hangman #hangman top gun

[honesttoglob]

Ok so few thoughts on the Season 2 Bigtop Burger Supercut:

- Apparently the "freakazoids" that Cesare and the underworld have been keeping tabs on are Cryptids. I had suspected the freakazoids in question might be demons as Hell is taking some responsibility for them but they're cryptids??? Man, that just makes me sad, leave bigfoot alone :(((((

- One of the cryptids pictured is Flatwoods Monster, who, according to legend, is also an alien. The other two appear to be Mothman and though I'm a bit fuzzy on this one some sort of bigfoot or yeti creature. He's wearing a lil stetson hat. Did Cesare use the stetson hat trick before?

- The second still shown in the credits appears to be Munkustrap descending onto Earth on some sort of spacecraft as the Bigtop and Zomburger crews watch. They appear to be in the same positions/outfits as when Cesare whack-a-moled Steve into hell. Which is????? Idk what to make of that. Could Flatwoods Monster have some kind of alien technology that they used to contact Clown World? Are we finally gonna have Clown vs Undead War??????? I wonder how Munkustrap will react to seeing other clowns in the pink-yellow-blue spotted outfit which Tim, Penny and Billie are wearing, which seems to be a pattern which all banished clowns are exiled in. Looking forward to see how he looks now that he's aged! Also, I like that this scene implies the Zomburger and Bigtop gangs stick together! Which I want them too! SO BADLY!!!

- As @fr0stmask mentioned in a reply on this post, the spacecraft Munkustrap is seen on is actually a tire, as in the musical Cats, cats who are deemed worthy are sent up to the Heaviside Layer on a TIRE!!! Thanks for the info!

- What if the Cats performance is literal, and one clown actually gets sent "up to the heaviside layer", and that's what happened to Munkustrap and how he got the tire spacecraft. Steve got booted out via banishment and Munkustrap was chosen to ascend, but in the end they both ended up in the same place.

- Frances, Conrad and Allen look visibly upset when they realize Cesare isn't actually proposing a truce and is still up to his antagonistic bullshit.

- The image of Cesare in his weird little Cabinet of Dr. Caligari coffin makes my stomach do little back filps. We've seen Tim, Penny, Billie, Frances, Conrad, Allen, and Steve all in their own homes (For Steve it's his truck where he sleeps) but Never Cesare! Seeing him in there makes me nervous honestly because in the image, his box/cabinet has two doors on its front, with no handles inside, which suggests it closes from the outside and he's "stored" in there and deanimated (seeing as his eyes are closed and this is the only time we've seen him at rest) when not in use. This would add metaphorical meaning to Cesare's comments about being a puppet vendor, as now that's all he is- a puppet. He looks like a little doll being stored in his box. This seems to suggest something I've long suspected, that the "1000 year sentence" Cesare is being held on by the underworld may be bullshit, and he won't actually be allowed to go on retirement. Instead, this idea of his sentence one day ending is merely meant to motivate and control him, like a carrot being held in front of a horse. Could that candle shown at the end be his lifeforce? When its lit maybe he's animate, while when its snuffed out, he's a lifeless husk kept in a box.

- You think Cesare's and Steve's footie pajamas have a similar narrative role? Like to make them easily identifiable as rejects (in Steve's case) or property (in Cesare's case)? You think they're just meant to be dehumanizing or a source of shame?

- Tim was the first one to find Steve, which makes me feel fucked up that Steve still doesn't know his name and seems to mis-name him the most :(((((( Tom and Toby???????? I mean I get that my man likely has memory issues, he's very old and he hit his head very hard on the ground and he refuses to go easy on that fckng juul

- Baby Tim is so cute and handsome I'm dying

- The alley Steve emerges into in the after credits scene seems to rememble the alley with the hole in the ground that Conrad recounts Cesare getting money from. Is this because the underworld was able to track Steve's ascent through the ground to Earth's surface? Is this the same hole Cesare enters and exits the underworld from?

- Also, Steve spits out some rocks when he reaches the surface. U think that's how he started thinking of rocks as food? They just kimda got in ther and he thought "mmmnm yummy!"

- Based on the timelime and my own calcumalations, Steve landed in Sweden, creating the crater which is now known as the Siljan ring, and emerged a whole continent over in North America (at least I'm assuming the show takes place in North America. The driving wheel is on the left side, right? And everyone has American accents? (Except Tim) Is that enough?)

I have a theory that Penny reminds Steve of his own mother. Both women have the same voice actress (Lindsay Small-Butera, my beloved ;-;), and in season one, while Steve is high, once he hears Penny's voice, he shapeshifts into his child form (which I think might have been the last time he saw his mom before she dropped him off at Christian-Acting Camp) and asks her for soup. He's even in the same Little Lord Fontleroy outift. Also, at the Food Truck Expo, when Steve sees Cesare approaching him, he hides behind Penny's back. Also, they have a similar appearance in hair color and clown makeup.

- Speaking of Steve's family, in the scene where Steve is about to be shot into space, there are three clowns who stick out from the crowd. One, with a haircut resembling Steve's mother's on the right (I believe this is her), Munkustrap in the center (at least I believe this is him, their hair and faces are similar) and a male figure on the left. I believe this figure on the left is Steve's father, and Munkustrap is either Steve's brother or past love interest (I think him being his brother is more realistic because him being Steve's love interest and sending him into space is I think too dark even for this show).

- I think the clown actors in Cats may only refer to eachother by their character names. Munkustrap is given no other name, and Steve being stripped of his name as "Old Deut" is seen as a big deal.

- I noticed whenever male clowns get old, their hair develops into sort of a tonsure style with a little dollop of hair sitting right in the middle of their bald spot. Peanut has this, along with Steve's father, and Steve is also developing this as well, based on the wicked widow's peak he has whenever his hat is off.

- bro I wanna see Cesare and Munkustrap interact so bad. What if they get jealous of eachother like, "No! I'm the only emo twink that gets to make Steve's life a living hell, who the fck are you???"

- I want them. To fight lol

- Cat fight!!!!!

- I may be stretching with this one but Munkustrap and Cesare just look kinda visually similar to me? At least with the black onesie and the dark unkempt hair. You think there's a reason for that? Or is it more metaphorical, as in these are just two people who have an impact on Steve's life in that they do their best to not let him fit in with the general society?

- In the still of Munkustrap descending from the sky, Conrad is build like a brick shit house frfr

Just needed to get these thoughts out of my head so they don't weigh down on my humors and make me bad at art and work and remembering to eat food and sleep and bathe and breathe for the next however many months it is before another episode O-O

#bigtop burger #worthikids #btb #btb steve #btb cesare

[joshym]

Le Morte d'Arthur: Chapter 1

Paring: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: It all began with a passion for literature. What was once a dream to walk the halls of the University of Michigan is now a reality.

You thought you were prepared for everything.

A new town, a new school, a new way of life,

but what you were not prepared for…

was meeting the enigma that is Jake Kiszka.

Word Count: 8.8k+

Warnings: (for this chapter) mentions of stress & anxiety, mentions of a broken home, mentions of an ill, disabled parent, mentions of an oxygen tank & medications, jake is an asshole, (if I missed anything, please let me know)

a/n: it's here! i can't begin to express how excited i am to share this with everyone. this story has been in the works for quite some time now, & it's been such a joy to write. i sincerely hope you all love it. please don't be afraid to let me know what you think. 🤍

also, huge thank you to @jakeyt for being the best editor, & being my right hand in helping create this. i seriously couldn't have done it without you. love you SO much. you're the best sister i could ever ask for.

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As you walk up the stone steps of Angell Hall, you feel as though you’re walking into a book filled with ancient Greek Mythology. The pillars that resemble the Parthenon temple, the delicate stone work motifs that portray Athena's owl and Pegasus; you’ve truly never felt more at home than you do at this very moment as you take your first steps inside the building that houses the English Literature courses. The inside is rich with artwork personifying poetry and myth. The intricate neoclassical design of the ceilings, complete with gold leafing and imperial medallions. The most incredible building you’ve ever seen, and one of the many reasons you decided to make the transfer to the University of Michigan.

It’s been no easy feat to get here. In fact, it’s been damn near impossible. It’s by the skin of your teeth that you’re here today, walking the very halls of your dream school.

The road to get here has been hell. Pure, unadulterated hell. You’ve saved every last penny to afford the move here, while trying to take care of your mom and her declining health. It didn’t help that your dad decided it was all too much for him and left a year ago, leaving the two of you alone with hardly the means to afford even the bare necessities. With two full time jobs, online classes at some bullshit university, and tending to your mom’s every need for the last year, it’s a fucking miracle you’re standing here today. 

It’s only been a month since you received your acceptance letter in the mail. You worked your ass off the last two years maintaining a 4.0 gpa to be sure you’d be accepted. You’d applied back in January and waited six excruciating months to hear back, obsessively checking the mail at least three times a day. 

One day, you noticed a rather large, crumpled envelope stuffed in your tiny mailbox. It was wet from a rainstorm that had hit earlier that day, but you could still make out the sender information. 

The University of Michigan

515 East Jefferson St. 

1220 Student Activities Building

Ann Arbor, MI 48109-1316

You knew that the contents of this envelope would seal your fate for the next two years. You were hesitant at first to open, scared of rejection. You let it sit for a few hours before finally ripping it open as quickly as your fingers would allow.

You pulled out the sopping piece of cardstock, stamped with a golden “M” at the top left corner.

Congratulations, y/n! 

You’re in! We are pleased to inform you that you are admitted to the University of Michigan College of Literature, Science and the Arts Junior class entering fall of 2023.

Within two weeks of receiving the letter, you and your mom packed up what little you had and left the sleepy town of Cherry Tree, Oklahoma. 

Up until now, you’d lived in this tiny town your entire life. You’ve been so ready to leave, to find adventure elsewhere that would allow you to spread your wings. You’d been held back there for so long. You knew it was time, and as much as she could, your mother supported your choice to leave and she was eager herself to get away.

You managed to secure a low income apartment in Ann Arbor that has accommodations for those with disabilities. It’s a shithole. But it’s your shithole. 

You’re solely responsible for any and all bills as your mom isn’t fit to work. You’ve got enough saved up to last about a month, so one of your first priorities is to find a job that will sustain you. 

Right now, though, your current goal is to find your first class in this massive building. It’s intimidating. Everyone here is walking past you in a hurry to get where they need to go as you’re stuck, still trying to figure out where room 3182 is. There aren’t signs anywhere to help guide you through the utter maze that is Angell Hall. You haven’t the slightest clue of where to start.

You try asking a few people, only to be met with vague points in general directions, or people simply telling you ‘up stairs.’

Where are the damn stairs? 

You start trekking along in an attempt to find them, when you see a large wooden door that’s cracked open just enough to see, finally, a staircase. 

Some progress.

Making your way to the third floor, you assume you’ve finally found where your class will be when you look at a room number… and it says ‘2548.’ 

Dammit. 

You head back to the stairs to make your way up to the next floor, and to your relief, the class numbers all begin with a three. 

You head down the long, dimly lit hallway in frantic search for room 3182, to no avail. The hallway has so many twists and turns with no guidance for direction. There may as well be a scarecrow with arms pointing in all directions saying ‘this way!’

You’re stuck yet again, unsure of where to go. You assume everyone is in their respective classes as the hall is barren, so there’s not a soul to ask. With only two minutes until class begins, you’re nearing the point of giving up. 

Anything is better than waltzing into class late on your first day, no less your first day at a university where no one knows you. What a fantastic first impression to make.

Suddenly, a man comes barging down the hall towards you. He looks a bit unapproachable, wearing a large brimmed black hat on top of his shoulder length hair, sunglasses that mimic ones worn by John Lennon in the seventies and a matching all black ensemble of linen pants and a button up, with only the last few buttons actually secured. He jingles as he moves due to an obnoxious number of necklaces sitting on his bare chest.

You’re not sure you want to bother him but desperate times call for asking strange men for directions.

“Hi, excuse me. Could you tell me where room-”

Without even acknowledging your basic existence, he seems to be in a hurry as he slams into you, knocking your brown canvas bag off your shoulder and effectively dumping everything out of it. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he quickly turns the corner, not even bothering to help you pick up the mess he’s created.

“John Lennon wannabe motherfucker,” you mutter under your breath as you bend down to gather your belongings. 

You hear footsteps coming closer to you, thinking just maybe he's decided to come back and make amends.

“Sorry about him, girl.” 

You glance up just as she’s kneeling down, offering to help with your scattered books.

“Don’t pay him any mind. He thinks he walks on water,” she says as she helps you shove the last of them in your bag, now all disheveled and out of your perfect order. 

“God, thank you so much. Would you happen to know where room 3182 is? I haven’t the slightest clue where I’m going.” 

“Just keep going down the hall until you reach the bathroom, take a left and it’s the second room on the right,” she says, with a warm smile.

You thank her again and quickly head in that direction.

At last, you breathe a sigh of relief as you approach room 3182.

With a deep breath, you open the door to the massive lecture hall that appears more like an auditorium with its pitched floor.  

All eyes are on you, the room dead silent as the professor glares at you. 

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I had the worst time-”

“No matter. Just take your seat and do it quickly,” he cuts you off.

You scan the room in search of an empty seat as everyone continues to silently stare at you, eyes burning holes in your soul.

This is exactly what you wanted to avoid.

Finally you spot one on the far right corner of the room. Swiftly heading towards it, you make a horrid discovery.

Mr. John Lennon wannabe is in the seat right next to the empty one. 

Of fucking course.

Grudgingly, you take your seat next to him. He shifts his body slightly away from you as you situate yourself, letting out a long, dramatic sigh once you're settled.

You decide to try and humble him with your southern hospitality, asking his name with a kind smile, to which he only responds by cocking his head in your general direction and not bothering to answer you.

What an ass.

“Now that it seems we finally have everyone here, let’s get things started. Welcome to English 450, The Quest for King Arthur. My name is Dr. Movack and I will be your instructor throughout the semester.” 

You start pulling out all of your books on King Arthur, annoyed that some of them now have bent pages thanks to the mysterious man wearing all black sitting to your left.

“One of the requirements to be accepted in this class, aside from the prerequisite courses, is to have more than just the basic knowledge of Arthurian lore.” Dr. Movack continues, “Taking that into account, there is no need to waste time in starting from the beginning. However, I would like to take a moment to test your knowledge. Each person who answers correctly will receive a point towards extra credit.” 

Dr. Movack begins going around the room, asking everyone basic questions and facts about King Arthur when he finally gets to you.

“I would like you to tell me which text offers the earliest reference to Arthur.” 

With booming confidence, you answer, “I believe it’s around the 7th century when he is briefly mentioned in the poem titled Y Gododdin.”

The John Lennon look alike on your left lets out an obnoxiously loud chuckle while shaking his head.

“Dr. Movack, it’s a well known fact that Arthur isn’t specifically mentioned until Historia Brittonum in the 9th century. She’s clearly wrong,” he blurts out. 

You know your stuff when it comes to this lore. You’ve studied it for the better part of your life and you’ll be damned if you let this man who, for whatever reason has developed a vendetta against you, try to outwit you.

“No, you are wrong. You obviously haven’t read the poem or you’d know he’s named when referencing the bravery of Gwawrddur.”

He waves his palm in your face in an attempt to silence you, the gesture causing your lip to curl in frustration. “Tell her, Dr. Movack. Tell her she’s wrong and has no idea what she’s talking about.” He asserts.

Talking about you instead of to you is a great way to piss you off and he’s on the right path towards it. His refusal to even look at you has you nearly in flames with rage.

“What’s your name, miss?” Dr. Movack asks.

“Y/n,” you respond.

Your heart is thumping out of your chest as you await the professor's response.

“It seems there may be someone here who knows even more than you, Kiszka.” Lennon’s jaw nearly hits the desk beneath him. “Y/n is absolutely right. Y Gododdin does, in fact, mention Arthur. The introduction is so slight that it’s often missed, but scholars argue that this piece does indeed contain the first true reference.” 

Even through his obnoxious sunglasses, you can see the frustration painted on his face. Proving him wrong in front of the whole class serves him right. 

Poetic justice at its finest.

You laugh through your nose and give yourself a metaphorical pat on the back, anticipating more praise from Dr. Movack when he says “However, miss, you will not receive your point for being late to my class.”

Lennon cackles at this, of course, feeling he’s somehow won this educational battle.

He answers his question correctly, receiving his point and commendation from Dr. Movack. 

He sits back in his chair, arms crossed with a smug face, wearing a ‘kiss my ass’ grin on his lips.

You just roll your eyes and look the other direction, envisioning yourself ripping those ridiculous sunglasses off his face. 

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Something you’re not used to yet, and perhaps will never get used to, is the Detroit traffic. Stuck in your beat to hell ‘92 Firebird in bumper to bumper traffic, you’re at a near standstill as you’re desperate to get home after a long day of classes. What should only be a fifteen minute drive home has already lasted more than thirty, and you’ve hardly moved an inch.

You’re sitting in silence as you don’t even have the luxury of the radio to keep you company. You’re lucky enough that this car even runs with as much shit as it’s been through. A hand-me-down from a hand-me-down, losing parts and gusto after each set of hands it passes through. You figure you’ll be the last to drive it before it meets its timely end in the very near future.  

WIthout much else to preoccupy you at the moment, your mind is wandering with recollection of your first day at the school you’ve had your sights set on since your first comprehensible memory. Feeling like a fish out of water would be the most comfortable way to describe your day. It goes far beyond that. 

You know it’ll take some time to settle. But you’re afraid that time won’t fix the fact that you may not truly belong here. You’ve never really fit in anywhere, even in your tiny hometown that you’d lived in your whole life. You were never fully accepted there, so what makes you think you’d be accepted here? You’d always felt so isolated in Cherry Tree, too small of a town to feel such a way. Now, you have the intimidation of a rather large city to amplify your isolation.

Aside from the nightmare that was finding your first class and the man who made you late to it, your other classes went about as well as you could’ve hoped for. You’d still managed to get lost a fair amount, but on the brightside, you’d found the campus coffee shop so you had been able to stay there for a while this afternoon.

The man, who you can only refer to as Lennon given he so rudely refused to give you his first name, was also studying in the coffee shop today, much to your dismay. 

And the way he’d locked eyes with you for a brief moment before quickly looking away…

You were not sure why, but now, you can’t pry him from your ambulant mind. Something about him, aside from his insolent demeanor, is oddly enticing. He’s dark, almost mystifying. There are secrets in the air he breathes. Whether or not you want to know them, you can’t quite decide. Nonetheless, you’re intrigued.

Traffic finally begins to move at a steady pace, breaking your trance and causing your disoriented image of him to return to one filled with anger.  

Mystifying or not, he was an ass for absolutely no reason. You’ve made up your mind that you will never give him the time of day again. 

You pull into the parking lot of your apartment complex, your car sputtering its cry of exhaustion as you’ve put it to the ultimate test far too many times lately. 

“I need you to hang on just a little longer, old friend.” You say as you throw the gear shift in park. “Just a little longer, then we’ll lay your heaping metal bones to rest.” 

You trek up the stairs to your apartment, stopping at door 264. You smile as you look down to see “Don’t Knock Unless You Brought Wine” stitched on the doormat beneath your feet. Your mom insisted on it, and as ridiculous as you think it is, you’re grateful for the smile it’s brought to your tired face. 

You search through your disarranged canvas bag for your key, silently cursing the fact that it’s not in its designated spot.

Finally spotting the shining silver, you pull it out and twist it in the rusted bolt to open the door.

Your mom is sprawled out on the couch, her oxygen tank filling the quiet apartment with a subtle humming. The living room television is on some old sitcom she loves with the volume muted, as per usual for her.

You don’t want to wake her, as it’s imperative that she gets as much rest these days as she can. You keep as quiet as possible while heading to the kitchen to start dinner for the two of you.

You decide on something simple; bowtie pasta with alfredo and grilled chicken. 

Your mom always had a knack for all things culinary. Her skill remains unmatched, although it’s not as easy for her these days.

You sadly missed out on that trait from her. You’re lucky if you don’t burn the water. But, over the course of her illness becoming increasingly debilitating, you’ve taught yourself some easy and quick recipes to get by. 

You spoon a healthy amount of pasta on each of your plates, even garnishing them with a few basil leaves for a little aesthetic.

You pour yourself a much needed glass of merlot before taking your mom’s plate to her. 

You gently wake her by carefully nudging her hand. 

“Dinners ready, mom. I hope it’s okay.”

She slowly begins to stir awake, looking happy to see you as you sit next to her. “I’m sure it’ll be great. Thank you, sweetie.” You help her to sit up and get stabilized before handing her her plate. “How was your first day?” She tries not to wince as she takes her first bite. Her years of being a culinary expert have made her awfully picky when it comes to food, but she’s never once outwardly complained about your cooking. Although you can tell she’s less than impressed, she would never tell you that. She knows you’re trying your best and she’s so grateful for it, especially since your dad left.

“It was alright, I guess.” You take your first bite and instantly understand her initial aversion to it. Undercooked noodles and over cooked chicken. You’re glad it’s not the other way around this time.

“Just alright?” she asks.

You don’t have the heart to tell her how draining today truly was, so you just tell her that classes were a little stressful but that it really was a great day.

You switch the subject and talk about the beauty of the campus and how badly you wish she could see it. “Maybe someday,” she says.

You want nothing more than to get her out of this dingy apartment for a day and take her around, to show her the wonder of the city. It’s been incredibly difficult watching battle her illness. She seems to grow weaker with each passing day. Although she tries to conceal it from you, you know your mom, and you can see her deteriorate before your very eyes. It breaks your heart in a million pieces, but you still hold out  hope that she will get better someday. 

Hope is all you have.

Until then, you just try to enjoy each and every moment you share with her.

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You’re situated outside of room 3182 nearly thirty minutes early this morning, drinking your steaming coffee and reading House of Leaves that was assigned to you yesterday in your Classic Horror course. 

The real inescapable horror, however, would be sitting next to him again, so you’re here early to avoid the unnecessary cruelty you faced the other day. 

Taking advantage of your extra time, you allow yourself to become immersed in the daunting novel. 

You read of a man on a slow descent to insanity, discovering a manuscript that details a home that transforms on the inside, yet stays the same on the outside.

Unlit hallways that continue for ages, doors appearing where they hadn’t been before. An architectural conundrum, this house.

The words in the book appear in strange prints, some pages with them upside down, placed in strange patterns; some pages with no words at all.

The word “House” is always in the color blue, even on the cover. 

The novel both fascinates you and terrifies you all at once, having read it twice before. You’ve yet to make your own interpretations on this book as they seem to change with each read. A bit of a mindfuck, as it were.

Just as you’re diving head first into the maddening depths of Danielewski's story, you hear keys jingling followed by the door to the classroom opening. 

You’d been so lost in your book you hadn’t even noticed that most of the students had joined you in the hall, waiting for class to begin.

You’re the first to head inside, much to Dr. Movack’s shock. You take your seat in the front row near the podium, the furthest one away from where you assume Lennon will sit.

The rest of the class piles in, taking their respective seats and gearing up for class. Here comes Lennon, clad in all black once again– sunglasses and all. He walks right past you, humoring you by ignoring your presence. 

Good. Keep walking. 

As more students pile in, you notice one mindlessly walking towards you before he abruptly stops and eyes you in your seat. You simply smile and nod as he stands there with a curious look about him. 

He slowly walks away, leaving you a bit puzzled but you choose to ignore it.

The hands on the antique brass wall clock strike 10:00 am, and you notice Dr. Movack is still out in the hall speaking with someone. Of whom, you can’t quite tell.

You and the rest of the class wait patiently, when finally Dr. Movack walks in, but he’s not alone. He’s with the student who glared strangely at you just moments ago. 

The student is standing near the professor, as if he has something to say, when Dr. Movack clears his throat and begins speaking. 

“I feel I needn't say this, but it’s clear some of you aren’t aware of how things are done around here, so I will say it this once so that we all understand. Once you choose your seat on the first day of class, that becomes your designated seat for the remainder of the semester. It is disruptive to your fellow classmates to decide to take the seat they specifically chose as their throne for learning.”

Your chest tightens and your face becomes flush with unease. 

You know instantly that he’s talking about you. 

“So, I will end this here: if you are not sitting in the spot you chose on the first day of class, I suggest you move to said spot immediately so we can get started with our business.”

Shit.

You’re utterly humiliated as you slowly stand up, you being the only one to stand up and making it abundantly clear to everyone in class that you were the cause of this.

You take your things and move to the spot you so desperately wanted to avoid, right next to Lennon who is covering his mouth with his hand, giggling at your shame.

The student standing by Dr. Movack takes his rightful seat as you take yours.

The class you had been most excited for this semester is quickly turning out to be the one you wished you had never signed up for.

You made a terrible impression on the first day by being late, and now on the second day of this class, you’ve broken an unspoken rule that you had no previous knowledge of. All of that topped off with the man sitting next to you who has made his distaste for you rather clear… the only thought tormenting your mind is how badly you wish you could crawl in a hole and never have to show your face in this class ever again.

“I have an important announcement,” declares Dr. Movack as he takes post behind his podium. “Through the entirety of this course, you will be working on a semester-long project relating to the appropriation of Arthurian legend. This project is fairly at your liberty, meaning there are very few stipulations for you to follow.”

Okay, this is something you can handle. Something to sink your teeth into, something you know you’ll excel at. 

“This will not be a solo project, however.”

Oh no.

“There are exactly fifty students in this class, so you will be paired in twos for a total of twenty five projects.”

Please no.

“As far as who you will be assigned with, that is very simple. The person seated next to you is who you will work with for the remainder of the semester.”

With Lennon being the very last seat in your row, and you being directly next to him, this means…he will  be your partner. For the entire semester. 

You were cursed from the first day you stepped foot in this room and had to sit next to him. Fate would have it so things would not work in your favor, it appears. 

“This project is not to be taken lightly as it is worth sixty percent of your final grade. Everything in this class will lead up to it, so I suggest you take your readings very seriously.”

He will ruin this for you, no fucking doubt. 

He won’t even give you the grace of telling you his first name, and now you have to work on a huge project with him for four months? A project worth more than half of your grade? 

That hole you debated on crawling in is sounding better and better by the minute.

“Well, guess that makes us partners.” To your disbelief, Lennon speaks his first words to you in lieu of his typical 'at you' approach. “The nice thing is that it guarantees me a good grade.” 

“Is that your way of admitting I know more about this than you do, Kiszka?” you snark. He cocks an eyebrow above his black lenses as you dare to utter his last name.  

“Not quite.” He snorts a condescending chuckle, “I can tell you’re the type to work towards the best grade possible, hence, ensuring my success in the process. Shall I thank you now or later?”

Lennon’s got you there.

You take projects like these rather seriously, and this one will be no exception. As much as you’d love to set him up for failure, that would warrant your failure right along with him. 

It’s the perfect scenario for him and a living nightmare for you.

Lovely.

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You walk through the open doors of the lecture hall for your next class, spotting yet another familiar face amongst the students, only this one much more kind and welcoming. 

You recognize her as the kind soul who helped you the other day when your bag was senselessly knocked off your shoulder by your favorite Lennon impersonator. 

“Hey!” she says as she notices you, “Come sit next to me!”

You’re nearly taken away by her beauty as you sit beside her, finally able to get a better look at her this time.

Her glowing caramel skin, her eyes light and honest with a sepia tone, her dark brown curls that are unruly yet flawlessly styled, held perfectly on top of her head with the most beautiful satin scarf. 

“Thank you again for helping me the other day. You’re a saint for that.” You hang your book bag on the back of your chair, pulling out its contents for class. “You’ll never believe this, but that guy that slammed into me with no remorse, he’s in my class. The one that he made me so late for. And because of that, we’re partnered together for a semester-long project.” 

“Ah yes, Jake,” she says under a giggle, adjusting her dark green, slouchy sweater off her toned shoulder. “He’s something else, that’s for sure. He’s got a good heart but he covers it with that mysterious, dark facade that he thinks makes him look so cool.” 

Alas, Lennon does have a first name after all. Although, you prefer the nickname you’ve given him. 

“Well, Jake has made it rather clear that I am not his favorite person and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. I’m not sure how we’ll manage to make it through this semester together with his shitty attitude.”

She hums under her breath, slowly shaking her head as if to say ‘just you wait.’

“My name’s Natalia. Where’d you fly in from?”

The way her name rolls off her tongue with her slight accent is nothing short of beautiful.

“Just a miniscule town in Oklahoma. Is it really that obvious that I’m not from here?” you answer in a hushed tone, half embarrassed to admit such a thing.

She grins as she sings a few words from the title track from the beloved Rodgers and Hammerstein musical, showcasing her stark white teeth that compliment her glowing, tanned skin perfectly.

“I hate to tell you Ms. Oklahoma, but you do kind of stick out like a sore thumb,” she quips. 

Having gone from a small, southern town to the outskirts of Detroit, you’re bound to look like an outsider until the culture shock wears off, much to your discontent. 

As much as you wish you could quickly adapt and easily blend in, it’s just not possible. Your face twinges as you remember your first day, specifically that one class you’d care to not mention any further. 

“Welcome, students, to Women in Literature. My name is Dr. Lacey and I’ll be your instructor through the duration of this course.” 

Class begins and you both submerge yourself in a study that’s particularly important to each of you.

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“I can’t call you Ms. Oklahoma forever, you know.” 

You and Natalia have the rest of the day free from classes, so you decided to walk with her to the Central Campus library to do some studying.

“I guess you’re right,” you say through a laugh. “My name is y/n.”

You walk across the large courtyard full of lush green grass, intricate steel benches and the most lovely hydrangeas colored a deep purple. 

The Michigan landscape is a far cry from anything you had ever seen in Oklahoma. Everything's so green and flourished, so full of life. Vibrant colors paint the scenery in the most beautiful vision. 

The weather is nearly perfect, with the temperatures never exceeding the mid seventies and the humidity far below the excruciating levels of the southern states. 

You’re in awe as you go day to day with the sheer beauty of the nature that surrounds you. 

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, your curiosity begins to take over your every thought. Jake Kiszka. Your semester-long partner. You need to know more about him, as much as you attempt to relinquish the desire.

You finally build up the courage to ask. “So, how do you know him?”

She looks at you upon your inquiry, squinting her eyes as she studies your face. “Who, Jake?” She says with a sinister grin about her. 

“Yes, Jake. What is it about him that he feels the need to treat people like they’re beneath him?”

“Ah, Sir Jacob,” she says. “He’s a bit of an enigma, I guess you could say. And yes, he is single.” She throws you a wink as you stare at her with utter disgust at her wisecrack.

“I do not care if he’s single,” you respond, causing her to snort a chuckle. 

“I’ve known the guy for years. We go all the way back to the golden days of our youth. He and his twin brother graduated high school a year before me, and their younger brother was a year below me.” A twin? There’s two of him? “I’ve known their family for the better part of my life. Good people, truly. I can’t begin to tell you how much they’ve helped my family and me.”

You’ve only just met him, but the words ‘good’ and ‘Jake’ don’t seem to belong in the same sentence. 

“Incidentally enough, his twin, Josh, and my brother, Malachi, have been partners since they graduated together. So, they’re kind of my family, too.” You walk up the steps to the library as she holds the large wooden door open for you.“I promise you, y/n. He’s not all bad. You’ve just seen what he projects to people he doesn’t know. Like I said, he thinks it makes him look cool.”

Your thoughts momentarily stop as you take your first steps into the library. You’re in shock. Though, you shouldn’t be. Every single building you’ve stepped foot into on this campus is absolutely immaculate, and the library is no exception.

It’s almost bewitching, with thousands of books lining the walls, reaching chandeliers that seem to hang from the clouds at their height. 

The alluring musty scent of aged novels fill your senses and take you back to a time long since forgotten. 

It’ll be far too tempting to spend all of your time here, getting lost in the pages that fill the space of grandeur.

You’ve been stuck in a near trance by the beauty surrounding you, you hadn’t even noticed that Natalia moved behind the circulation desk.

“It’s also his way of keeping his guard up. It’s rare that anyone gets to discover the true Jacob,” she says as she types away at the computer sitting at the desk.

“Um, Natalia?” You quietly ask. “Should you be back there?”

She laughs as she takes in your slightly terrified expression, “Well I would say so, ya know, since it’s the start of my shift.”

“You work here?” How could anyone be so lucky as to work in such an immaculate setting?

“It’s a pretty sweet gig. It’s not the most thrilling job but it’s nice and quiet. I get to spend my days among books, and the tuition break is a pretty nice incentive.” She secures her gold plated magnetic name badge to sweater, making her look rather official.

A job on campus would be utter perfection for you. You’ll be spending a vast majority of your time here anyways, and the tuition break would be a significant help in your situation. 

“Do you happen to know of any other jobs on campus that are hiring?” you ask, almost embarrassed, but you have a feeling you can trust her. “I’m kind of in a pinch to find something soon. Desperate, actually.”

She rests her chin between her index finger and thumb, seeming to ponder your question. “I know of a few,” she says. “One that just so happens to be in this very library, if you’re interested.” Her voice carries an almost sarcastic tone, she knows you’re interested. 

“Oh my god, are you serious? I would love to work here!” you say.

“I figured you would.” She rummages through the credenza and pulls out a sheet of paper entitled ‘Employment Application’ and sets it on the desk in front of you. 

“Go ahead and fill this out, and I’ll consider putting in a good word for you.” She winks at you as she hands you a pen. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

Classes have become increasingly difficult. It’s nothing you can’t handle, but you find it hard to make time for much of anything outside of work and school. 

You started your new job at the library one week ago today. You pick up as many shifts as possible, mostly evenings and nights as your days are taken up with your classes. The library stays open until ten o’clock, so most nights you don’t get home until at least ten thirty. 

You set aside a little time after class everyday to run home and take care of your mom before work, making her dinner and being sure her nightly medications are set out before you head back to campus.

As busy as you are, you truly love your job and you’re immensely excited about your studies.

Your friendship with Natalia has bloomed beautifully over the last week. 

You’re so grateful for her. She has been your saving grace lately as this last week has been a bit treacherous. Her companionship has been a major help in your adjustment to this new way of life and your somewhat rigorous schedule.

Jake, on the other hand–well, things are about the same. You’ve set aside your pride a few times this week in an attempt to get along with him for the sake of your project, but he just brushed you off, every single time. 

This project is massive, and not having it started yet, or even having a single idea about what you’ll do with it, is giving you serious anxiety. 

The tension with him seems to grow by the day and you’re almost at the end of your rope with it. You don’t know how to fix it, but you need to figure out something soon so you can bury this unnecessary hatchet and focus on your shared assignment.

–

After running home to make dinner for your mom and tend to a few chores, you make it back to campus just in time to begin your shift.

Tonight, you’re in charge of contacting students with missing books and tacking on late fees to their accounts if necessary. 

You’re sitting at the computer, scrolling through the seemingly endless list of students and calling them to let them know of the fees they’ve accrued. 

Most of them are rather displeased with you upon your notice, some of them even giving you a small piece of their mind before abruptly hanging up on you. 

You make phone call after phone call, trekking through the list organized alphabetically by last name.

At last, you’ve made it to the end of the J’s. Your task for the evening was to make it halfway through the list, and you’re nearly there as you begin contacting students whose last names begin with K. 

Upon reading the name of the next student, your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach.

Kiszka, Jacob T (1): Le Morte d’Arthur (Norton Critical Edition) - Mallory

“You can’t be serious,” you mumble.

You debate on ‘accidentally’ skipping him, but you don’t want anything to jeopardize your brand new job.

You have to call him, and you’re not looking forward to it.

You suddenly hear the voice of your boss in the back of your mind, “It’s proper etiquette to always state your name when calling students, so be sure to introduce yourself with each call you make.” 

You quickly make up your mind that you will not mention your name during your call to him. The last thing you need is any more awkward air between you two.

You dial his number and wait, listening to the ominous ringing from the other end. 

Your eyes are pinched shut, your palms sticky with sweat as you secretly hope he doesn’t answer. 

Then, the ringing comes to a stop, “Hello?”

Shit. 

“Is this Jacob?” You use your best professional tone, hoping to disguise your voice as much as you can.

“This is he,” he responds, the statement ending in more of a question.

“Hi, Jacob. This is y/n with the Central Campus Library.”

Fuck.

You throw your head in your hand, mentally cursing yourself for letting your name slip through. Maybe he didn’t notice, you think to yourself.

There’s an uncomfortable silence for a moment before you clear your throat and continue speaking.

“I’m calling about your overdue copy of Le Morte d’Arthur.”

“Y/n? Aren’t you in my class?” he asks.

So much for him not noticing. 

Ignoring his question, you proceed “It looks like you checked it out over the summer and it’s now twenty eight days overdue. Per policy, there has been a fee of seven dollars and fifty cents added to your account. If it is not returned by the thirty one day mark, you will receive anoth-” 

He patronizingly cuts you off before you can finish, “You’re in Movack’s class, huh? You sit right next to me.” 

With a sigh of frustration, you finish telling him that he must return it within three days or he’ll receive a much heftier fee.

“Yeah, okay. We’ll see about that,” he says before hanging up on you. His short tone has infuriated you beyond belief.

“Asshole,” you exclaim as you slam the phone down on the receiver causing a booming echo to erupt throughout the building. Luckily, the only other person here with you is Natalia. She’s been in the back sorting books while you’ve been dealing with overdue rentals.

Her boisterous laughter adds to the echoing bouncing off the walls. “I heard that,” she yells.

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

You’re especially dreading Dr. Movacks class today after your phone call with Jake last night. You know for a fact that things will be even more tense with him today, and you’re just not in the mood to deal with it.

The exhaustion from everything piled on your plate has really begun to set in. Jake is the last thing you want to worry about. With each unpleasant interaction with him, your impatience grows to new levels.

With the support of your large cold brew in hand, you gather the nerve to walk into class. 

“So you work at the library, huh?” Jake says as you take your seat. 

“Yep,” you say in response. You pull out your phone and scroll mindlessly, giving him the hint that you’re less than interested in talking with him.

Class begins, and Dr. Movack starts his lecture on Arthurian timelines. You’re trying to pay close attention, but you find yourself becoming increasingly distracted– by Jake. 

He smells so good– a mix of sandalwood and vanilla. You’ve noticed it before, but for some reason it’s particularly exhilarating today. 

You chalk it up to delusion from fatigue and force yourself to pay attention to the lecture. 

But fuck if it isn’t hard has hell to ignore. 

You reach for your coffee, glancing Jake's way when you make yet another intrusive realization.

The way he grips his pen so tightly– the veins in his hand and forearm protrude in the most captivating way. 

Your eyes slowly follow a trail to his pecks, the curve of them seen just beneath his partially open, black—of course—button down. You watch them tense slightly with each word he writes. 

Dr. Movack ends the lecture and you suddenly realize you’ve been staring far too long.  

“Can I help you?”  

You’re instantly mortified at him catching your stare. Desperate to find any excuse, you happen to see his copy of Le Morte d’Arthur sitting underneath his notebook. Thank god. 

“Your book,” you point to the novel. “You need to return it.” 

He huffs a laugh as he takes his sunglasses off, leaving you stunned. This is the first time you’ve seen his face without their obstruction—and the first time you’ve ever seen his eyes. 

His eyes are kind and warm. They glow amber brown like a glass of whiskey on the rocks, intoxicating you just as the smooth drink would.

“I still have two days, right?”

You saw his lips move, but the sound that came from them was muffled in your head as you’re entirely mesmerized by his eyes.

“Right?” he asserts, breaking you from your trance.

You blink your eyes a few times to bring yourself back to earth as your brain registers what he had said.

“What? Y– yes, you still have two days,” you say. “You know it’s not a required reading until later on in the semester, right? Why do you need it right now?”

“Maybe I wanted to get a head start,” he says while tossing it in his black leather satchel. “Maybe it’s not any of your business.” He swiftly gets up and walks away, leaving you completely frustrated yet again. 

Your journey to your next class feels more like a rigorous trudge. You’re walking fast and hard, stomping your feet with each step as your anger towards Jake exudes through your body. 

Not only are you pissed at his stupid fucking attitude, you’re pissed that you find him so damn attractive. 

How could you possibly find someone like him appealing? Appealing to the eye, yes, but that’s where it stops. He’s a walking rain cloud hovering over you, stealing all the sunshine from your day in only a matter of a single class period. 

You’re impatiently counting the days until this class– until this project– is over and done with so you can move on and live a peaceful existence. 

⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎ ⚔︎ ⛨ ⚔︎

It’s just about time to close the library and you could not be more ready. The last few days have been incredibly draining. With homework piling up in heaps, multiple tests to study for and working nearly every night, your stress is at an all time high. 

Thankfully, tomorrow is Saturday. This will be your first day off all week and you’re beyond ready for some much needed relaxation. You just need to get through these next five, excruciating minutes.

It’s been awfully quiet tonight and you’re grateful for it since you’re the only one working, but the lack of students has made the shift feel much longer than usual. 

You glance up at the clock that says it’s two minutes until ten. Given you haven’t seen any signs of a student in hours, you figure it would be okay to go ahead and lock up a few minutes early.

Just as you're about to twist the lock on the bolt, someone from the other end hastily turns the knob and pushes open the door with great force, causing you to stumble backwards.

Standing before you with their overdue book in hand, and to your utter disgust, is Jake. 

“We’re closed, Jake.”

He takes a few steps inside as he points behind you at the clock. “According to that, you’re still open for one more minute and I need to return my book.”

Of fucking course he waited until the literal last minute. 

You want nothing more than to turn him away and tell him he’s shit out of luck, but technically, he’s right. He’s entered the building before closing and according to policy, you have to serve him.

Son of a bitch. 

You bring your hand up to rub your forehead, trying to relieve some tension before you begin this process with him. “Follow me,” you say as you head back to the desk.

There’s an awkward silence lingering between you two as you sign into the computer, the only sound being his fingers tapping away at the desk as he impatiently waits for you.

“You could’ve just put it in the drop box outside, you know. They would’ve gotten it on Monday morning,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but then it would’ve been late. I’m not letting you all charge yet another absurd late fee,” he retorts.

“You should’ve turned it in on time, then.” 

You seem to have struck a nerve with him given the way his jaw clenched at your statement. You just can’t bring yourself to care– he’s the one forcing you to stay late when all you want to do is go home and go to bed. 

You go through the return process as quickly as you can. You finish, giving him his copy of the document that states he brought the book back. 

“Thanks,” he says. “Now I would like to check it back out, please.” 

Are you fucking kidding.

You know he’s doing this just to spite you.

You throw your hands down on the keyboard, “Seriously? Why can’t you just come back on Monday?” 

“Because I need it this weekend,” he claims.

“What could you possibly need it for?” Any semblance of patience you may have had left has officially walked out the door.

“Didn’t I tell you it was none of your business?” 

You take a deep breath and push it back out in a long sigh. You just don’t have it in you to argue anymore, so you accept defeat and begin checking it back out to him. 

You don’t say anything as you hand him a pen and the checkout slip for him to sign. He grabs the pen, looking at you with a slight guilt-ridden expression before giving his signature. 

“I’m working on a film with my brother, and I need the book to help him write the script.” This is the first time you’ve ever noted a hint of sincerity in his voice. The features of his face have softened– you can tell this is important to him. 

You flip delicately through the tattered and stained pages of the book. “I have my own copy of this out in my car,” you say. “I’ll just let you borrow mine. It’s in much better condition than this one, anyways.”

He agrees as you take the slip from under his fingers and crumple it, throwing it in the trash can under the desk. He waits a few minutes, letting you lock up. 

Then, he follows closely behind you to your car to retrieve the book.

You bend at the waist to dig for the book in the mess of your backseat. When you do so, you hear him take a deep inhale, and then blow it out in an exhale.

Is he annoyed with you having to dig? Because he can get the fuck over it. 

Just as you hear him clear his throat in impatience, you’ve found the book. You stand and hand him the book, annoyed with him and ready to leave. He thanks you, and you nod, bidding him a hasty ‘good night’… you’re just ready to get home. 

He begins to walk away, but stops and turns back around to face you.

Fuck. You’d been so close to being in the car, on your way home. Dammit.

“This film my brother’s doing,” he says. “Its focus surrounds the adultery of Arthur and Guinevere. He asked me to help him, and I was thinking…” You nod your head to let him know to keep going. “Well, if we both helped him, we could use it for our project.” 

Your interest is certainly piqued. “Yeah, that could work. I’ve written a few scripts and designed theoretical sets for a couple film electives before… so I could definitely do that.”

“He could use more help with all of that for sure, but what he really needs are actors, specifically ones to play Arthur and Guinevere. He’s been begging me to play Arthur and I agreed, but now he’s on my case about finding someone to play Guinevere and, well...” He gestures his arms towards you, signaling that he thinks you should play her. 

“Um…,” you take a minute to figure out how to politely turn him down as you feel a blush rise to your cheeks. You’d never admit it, but just the mere thought of interacting with him so intimately in those roles has your stomach doing weird flips. “Jake… I– I don’t know about that. I’m much better behind the camera, acting just isn’t really my thing.” 

“Just give it a try,” he insists. Why does he seem so adamant? Geez. “And if you hate it, you can do something else. But I think you’d be great at it, really.” He smiles at you, the first time you’ve seen a true, genuine smile from him.

Well, fuck.

You want to say no, you should say no. With how he’s treated you thus far, you don’t owe him anything. But– you can’t deny how it would help your project. And this project in Movack’s class… It's important to you. It would be fantastic to have it to back up your own project… 

And, aside from that, his smile is making it awfully hard to turn him down right now. 

If you were alone, you would have slapped your forehead at the utter chaos in your head, leading to your ultimate decision.

With a little hesitancy, you speak up, “I guess I could stop by. Feel out the role…”

His features seem to lift more at that. You pay it hardly any mind. 

And with his final reply, his velvet-toned voice has a brand new, excited, air to it. “It’ll be really amazing, I promise.” Then, he chuckles, almost to himself. “It’ll definitely be interesting,” he shakes his head, a grin still lifting his cheek. “But really… I think it’ll be great. I know my brother and you will get along. He’s also one hell of a director.” 

Minutes later, as you’re climbing into your driver's seat, you take a few minutes to sit in the silence of your car. 

Trying your damnedest to block out the obnoxious fluorescent lighting of the parking lot, you stare through your windshield into the black night sky. 

And when normally, the blanket of black would bring you a sense of peace and comfort, tonight it’s different. Tonight, you can’t help but feel a burgeoning sense of timidness as you fail to find answers to your new predicament in the night sky.

What in the hell had you just agreed to?

taglist:

@jakeyt @alwaysonthemend @sacredjake @jakesgrapejuice @misshunnybee @reesetrippingthelight @way-to-go-lad @iffypanic @sinarainbows @klarxtr @brinlygvf @stardustjake @gretavanbear @gvfmelbourne @sinsofstardust @literal-dead-leaf @livkiszka @gvf-ficreads @jaaakeeey @capturethechaos @neptune2324 @jaketlove @thetroublegetssoloud71 @myleftsock @sanguinebats @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface

a/n: let me know if you'd like to be tagged, or follow this link to be added. 🤍

love you all SO MUCH

Le Morte d’Arthur Masterlist

Masterlist

#jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka fic #jake kiszka fanfiction #jake kiszka smut #greta van fleet fanfiction #gvf fic #jake fic #jake kiszka #le morte d’arthur

[roguefankc]

It's Flu Season! And because Maverick would be the biggest baby if he got sick...

(Penny, Wolfman, Slider, Merlin, and Hollywood run though the front door of Iceman and Maverick house, with Iceman tiredly sitting on the couch in the living room)

Wolfman: Ice?! what's wrong?! We all got your message that you needed help!

Iceman: It's awful! The whole house is sick! First Hangman came down with the flu, then Phoenix, then Rooster, then Payback, and then all the rest of the Dagger Squad! I was running a sick ward all weekend!

Merlin:...wait, why isn't Maverick helping you?

Iceman (flatly): Because then came Monday...

(Maverick comes out in his bathrobe, hair tousled, pale, clammy, and half-asleep and in his hands a bottle of pills)

Maverick (whining): Ice, honey? Can you open the aspirin for me?

---

(The whole 80s Top Gun team and Penny stay to help Iceman run the house and take care of Maverick and the Dagger Squad)

(Maverick is in bed, weakly ringing a bell)

Maverick (ringing the bell): Slider...

Slider (in the next room helping Coyote): Give me a minute.

Maverick (ringing the bell): Slider...

Slider (in the next room): I said I'm coming!

Maverick (ringing the bell): Slider...

(Slider rushes into Maverick's bedroom in a panic): What?! What?! What?!

Maverick (weakly): My pillow needs poofing.

Slider (eye twitching):...Mitchell, I don't think you want to put a pillow in my hands right now.

---

(Maverick is in bed, whining and gasping for breath)

Maverick (weakly): I'm dying, Hollywood. I'm giving up the ghost. Every cell in my being is crying out in anguish. It was a good life while it lasted, but this is it. Hello, Grim Reaper.

Hollywood (with a bottle of cough syrup and a spoon in his hands): Cut the bullshit. The medicine doesn't taste that bad.

Maverick (weakly):...Goose? Dad? Carol? Is that you?

---

(Maverick is in his bathrobe, still sick, and in Iceman's home office while Iceman is frantically typing away on his keyboard)

Maverick: Ice, sweetie? Can you heat up some chicken soup for me?

Iceman (stressed): Mav, sorry but I'm really busy right now! I need to approve this contract in twenty minutes! Can't you just fend for yourself?

Maverick (whining): But I'm sick, honey...

Iceman: Mav, for fuck's sake, we're not talking brain surgery! All you have to do is open a stupid can and dump it in a pot!

(Maverick disappears into the kitchen and then come back a minute later. In his hands is a pot, and in the pot is a can of chicken soup. The can is open but the contents of the soup are still inside the can)

Maverick: Now what?

Iceman:...now, we talk brain surgery.

---

(Maverick stumbles in the kitchen where Penny, Wolfman, and Merlin are making soup and orange juice for all the Dagger Squad)

Maverick: Is it time for my aspirin yet?

Wolfman: No, Mitchell.

Maverick: But my throat hurts...

Merlin: Maverick, go back to bed. It hasn't been four hours yet.

Maverick: But my head hurts! My joints hurt! My eyes hurt! My body hurts! (in a baby voice) My itty bitty widdle pinkies hurt!

(Penny sighs and opens the aspirin bottle)

Maverick (smirks): I knew I'd win with that one.

Penny: These aren't for you.

(Penny gives two pills to herself, Merlin, and Wolfman and they all gulp them down immediately)

---

(BONUS)

(Cyclone is back at headquarters in his office, feet on his desk with a small glass of bourbon)

Cyclone (smiling): What a peaceful, quiet day.

#incorrect top gun quotes #incorrect top gun maverick quotes #tom iceman kazansky #top gun maverick #incorrect top gun #Leonard Wolfman Wolfe #Ron Slider Kerner #Sam Merlin Wells #Rick Hollywood Neven #Penny Benjamin #source: foxtrot #pete maverick mitchell #maverick would be the biggest baby #phoenix is threating to kick hangman's ass for infecting her #beau cyclone simpson #top gun 1986 #icemav

[charliedawn]

Hey, slashers idea.

How would they take of you when you're sick?

Pennywise :

Pennywise would look at you and burst out laughing like there’s no tomorrow. Human suffering is just funny to him for some reason.

Pennywise: "You are sick ?! Now, that’s hilarious !"

The Penny Brothers can’t get sick. At all. So, he’d find it entertaining, especially since they usually never see you so weak.

He’d enjoy it at first, but he’d soon grow worried and try to help you the best he can while pretending he doesn’t care.

Pennywise *pats your back while you sleep* : "…Hey. The nurses said it was serious. Don’t know if it’s true or not, just get better, alright ?"

Pennywise may act like a jerk most of the time, but deep down ? He cares.

Michael Myers :

Michael would try his best to understand how to help you, but would be clueless and would read whatever he can on the subject.

At the end, he would just make sure nobody gets close to your room while you rest and bring you water and soup.

He’d be your bodyguard and make sure the other slashers stay away while you rest—only allowing the doctors in.

He’d also try to check on you and your fever regularly. He’d be holding your hand and give you whatever comfort he can.

No way he’s leaving your side until he’s sure you’re going to be alright.

Bo Sinclair:

Bo: "Now, ain’t ya ‘bsolutely adorable ? All weak and livid. Careful. Heard that people used to die from tiny little colds…"

Bo would tease you, but he’d still make sure you get some rest at the end. He just likes to play with people and get you all worked up. If you react, it means it’s not serious and he doesn’t have to intervene.

However, if he sees that you are really sick ?

He’d gladly grab any doctor in the hospital and make sure they do their job…

Bo: "Can’t ya see it’s bad ?! Whatya standin’ over there like a bunch of daisies for when sunshine’s over there—suffering ?!"

Penny:

Penny would look over you from the shadows and cuddle with you when you want a little comfort during your sick days.

He’d also bring you his favourite games, so you don’t get bored.

However, he knows he doesn’t know anything about coughs and sickness in general. He’d stay at the feet of your bed and hear your breathing.

As long as you’re breathing, he’d stay calm and collected. He’d let the doctors do their jobs and only growl in warning from time to time if he feels that they’re hurting you.

He’d bring you snacks and make sure you don’t get bored while you rest.

Jason:

Jason: "…"

The man would understand, but he wouldn’t have a clue of how to help you.

He’d hug you and hope for the best.

Freddy:

Freddy would take care of your dreams and that you don’t get lost. Sick people often get very wild dreams and can get lost in them sometimes.

You *looking at the sky turning multiple colours and slowly enveloping you* : "…Wow. So pretty."

Freddy *grabs you* : "Whatya doin’ here, sweetheart ? Shouldn’t be out there on your own, buddy. Come on. Back in the world of the living we go."

He’d make sure your mind stays afloat, because even though he loves chaos and would love seeing you completely lose it…He’d lose something more important. He’d lose you.

Jack Torrance:

You: "I’m not sick…"

Him *looks you up and down* : "Yeah. And am not dead. Now, get back to bed."

No bullshit policy. You’re sick, you’re sick. He’d drag you back to bed if he has to—because he knows first hand that life is short and death comes quickly.

Jack would also bring you pills to sleep and get better. He may be a ghost, but he’s already been sick when he was alive.

He may be the one who can help you the best.

Brahms:

Brahms would take care of you. He’d bring you breakfast in bed and make sure you get some good rest.

Also, he’s wall boy. He’d watch over you at night and make sure you don’t overwork yourself.

However, he’d also cuddle with you at night and not let you go anywhere without him. He’d get clingy and would follow you to the kitchen or the bathroom.

And don’t even try to get away.

Brahms *appears behind you after you woke up to get a glass of water* : "Go…Back to…Bed."

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #brahms x reader #bo sinclair x reader #jack torrance x reader

[ugh-yoongi]

across the btuniverse ⟡ a bts x beatles collab | the masterlist

welcome to across the btuniverse, a collab for which we got a little help from our friends. we've got nine delightful stories for you to sit back and enjoy. as there is no deadline for this collab, all fics will be posted as they're finished. we thank you for your patience, and we really hope you enjoy them!

isn’t this more beautiful? ● written by @effortandmore 🍓 pairing: namjoon x reader 🍓 genre: idolverse, smut, angst, vibes 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: you meet namjoon by accident. you fall for him without noticing. he slips in and out of your life at will, and you let him. but as you get closer, you start to wonder if he’ll always feel lonely, even with you by his side. or, a small story told out of order about time, loneliness, and knowing what we deserve. → based on: eleanor rigby

long, long, long ● written by @moni-logues 🍓 pairing: jin x f. reader 🍓 genre: soulmates au, established relationship, angst, fluff, smut 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: in every life, you find each other. at least you used to. it’s been a long time and jin hasn’t been able to find you anywhere. he’s running out of hope, running out of places to turn. what if he’s lost you forever? → based on: long, long, long

don't let me down ● written by @hoseokhasmyheartxx 🍓 pairing: therapist!yoongi x f!Reader 🍓 genre: non-idol au, Angst, Smut 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: as a therapist, yoongi sees the worst in people every day. he stopped believing in love ages ago. an unexpected meeting changes all of that. but, unfortunately, some things will never change. → based on: don't let me down

this will only hurt a little ● written by @caelesjjk 🍓 pairing: motorcycle gang leader!yoongi x doctor!fem reader 🍓 genre: exes to lovers, romance, smut 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: you left him behind years ago. where he was going you couldn’t follow. now, you find yourself back in town after accepting a surgeons position after medical school. yoongi is still here and he still wants you after all this time. → based on: here, there and everywhere

the secrets we keep ● written by @the-boy-meets-evil 🍓 pairing: hoseok x reader 🍓 genre: musician (non-idol)!au, angst, smut 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: hoseok finally gets to go on his first real tour. it's everything he's ever wanted, getting to share his music with his fans. before he leaves, he promises you that nothing changes. he'll call every night and text every morning. there's only one problem. he’s not really sure if he means it. → based on: all my loving

a guy with a sword is bad news ● written by @ugh-yoongi 🍓 pairing: jimin x reader 🍓 genre: non-idol, mysticism au; strangers to lovers; angst, fluff 🍓 rating: mature 🍓 summary: yoongi tries telling him the “medium” he finds is bullshit, but jimin’s… stubborn, to say the least. desperate to find meaning in anything when his life feels like it’s falling apart. he expects that the tarot readings might not come true; expects the horoscopes and chart readings and psychic visions might not either. but jimin underestimates the only part of this charade that’s real: you. → based on: blue jay way

subject to change ● written by @hot-soop 🍓 pairing: taehyung x reader 🍓 genre: slice of life, non idol au 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: taehyung makes up stories. he borrows the lives of the people he encounters, the people on his street - he writes about how they move, and what they say, and how he imagines they might think, how they might love. he writes about you, too. → based on: penny lane

nyooom ● written by @biashub 🍓 pairing: jungkook x reader 🍓 genre: smut, idol au 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: working as a valet for the most exclusive restaurant in town had its perks. one of those perks? you got to regularly drive jeon jungkook’s car. → based on: drive my car

love to love you ● written by @wonwussy 🍓 pairing: jungkook x reader 🍓 genre: angst, smut 🍓 rating: explicit 🍓 summary: he told you not to fall in love with him. you listened. however, he didn’t expect to break his own rule. → based on: if i fell

the fic info above is subject to change and belongs to its respective author.

#bts collab #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts smut #collab: atbtu

[gennyanydots]

Kindergarten Failure

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

Companion piece to “Spitfire”

part of the ‘spitfire universe’

An: the jealousy fic nobody asked for!

Phoenix has been getting on Jake’s nerves. Always asking about the next time you’ll come out with the pilots. When she can come over. Why you actually don’t come out all the time. (Apparently you telling her he needed to be the prettiest wherever he is wasn’t a good enough answer) Truth is you’re not one to go out much. You keeping your bar fights to once a month was because that’s how often you went out. Sure you go out more with Jake like to dinner and things but out out is a different thing entirely.

Jake is the extrovert out of the two of you. Quite obviously. He loves being out. He thrives off the attention. He loves being in public. He also loves you and knows that you need to stay in more than he does. He respects that. He always offers to bring you places with him just in case but often you decline. If he stays out late he tries to DoorDash you some treat to make sure you know he’s thinking of you. He knows the way to your heart. He’s had it long enough.

It was Friday night once again and now that Penny was back everyone had resumed their normal routine. After a long day of work going out and getting a few beers while playing pool and darts is exactly how the dagger squad liked to unwind.

Jake had told you they were going out. He never wants you to worry where he might be. He’d also told you about Phoenix needing some more girl time. Halo is nice and all but even two girls compared to ten guys still skewed the ratio.

You hadn’t had a bad day. You were feeling pretty good so you figured why not give Phoenix what she wants so badly. You headed home after work to jump in the shower and get ready knowing the pilots were just heading straight to the bar after work. They all showered at work and you didn’t have that luxury. You threw on a cute but casual outfit and got in your car to head towards the Hard Deck.

As soon as you walk in you hear the call of your name from the pool tables and you smile and wave at Phoenix who looks practically giddy as you walk over.

“Hangman didn’t tell me you were coming!”

“Yeah well I don’t tell him everything. Gotta keep him on his toes.”

You feel a hand brush against your waist as it settles on the opposite hip pulling you into a hard body. A kiss placed on the crown of your head as you snuggle into your husband’s side.

“Well shit. Now I’m not the prettiest at this bar anymore. Guess I gotta go find a new bar,” Jake says with a chuckle.

You look up at him, “Is it hard being in second place? I wouldn’t know.”

“When first place looks this good? I’m surprised I even made second place,” he says with a wink.

You playfully roll your eyes and bump your shoulder into his side. He leans down to kiss your head once again and squeezes you once as he lets go to head towards Coyote who is standing near the darts board looking around.

“Okay so now you have to tell me all about being married to Hangman!” Phoenix says excitedly. “Is he cocky all the time? Has he always been like that? Are you late to everything because you have to drag him away from the mirror?”

You laugh, “Yes. Yes. And no if we’re ever late it’s my fault because I can’t be on time to save my life. Most often he tells me we have to be somewhere a half hour before we actually have to be there because that’s usually the only way I’ll be on time. If he had it his way we would be there the half an hour before we have to be there that he tells me. He likes to be early everywhere. All that ‘if you’re early then you’re on time. If you’re on time then you’re late.’ bullshit.”

Phoenix nods her head, “Yeah the Navy will do that to you. Do you want to grab a drink?”

“Yes please!”

You both head towards the bar and grab a drink, on your husband’s tab, then head to a high top table and sit chatting.

After some time the bar gets more crowded. More and more bodies are packed it. You catch Jake’s eye a couple times to check in with each other, you always smiling at him to let him know you’re fine and he always winking at you as he grins. This time he holds up his beer bottle and mouths “Another?” and you nod. He heads towards the bar and waits his turn patiently.

“So why did Coyote only know about you?,” Phoenix asks when you turn your attention back to her.

You shrug, “I met Javy a long time ago. Back when Jake and I were just dating. I met him first when Jake graduated from the academy and then again when they were both at Top Gun originally I had come to visit and stayed the week they graduated. Javy came to our wedding.”

“I am insulted that I wasn’t invited,” Phoenix teases.

“I didn’t know you! It was also pretty small. And rushed. Jake and I were sick of being long distance so we quickly got married so I could stay with him when he’s stateside.”

“Well I’m sure even if it was rushed it was beautiful,” Phoenix says.

You smile remembering the day, “It really was. You’ll have to come over soon and look at pictures. You’ll love the one where I smashed cake in Jake’s face.”

Phoenix grins, “Now that I have to see!”

You grin back and look over towards your husband seeing if he had made any progress at the busy bar. You raise an eyebrow as you see a woman talking to your husband. You can tell by Jake’s body language he doesn’t want to be in the conversation but the woman doesn’t seem to get the memo.

“So we going to handle that or let him flounder for a minute,” Phoenix asks.

You chuckle, “Give it a minute. If she continues then I guess it’s time to party.”

Phoenix nods and you both continue to watch the scene unfold.

The woman takes her hand and places it on Jake’s chest. His hands immediately go up in surrender.

You’re on your feet in an instant pushing your way through the crowd.

You come up behind Jake wrapping an arm around his waist and shoving the woman’s hand off his chest, “Hi. Did you fail kindergarten? You don’t touch things that aren’t yours. Thanks.”

The woman smirks at you pulling her hand back, “You sure you didn’t fail? Sharing is caring. You weren’t here. Clearly your man was lonely. I’m more than happy to keep him company.”

Jake whistles lowly and says to you, “You promised once a month.”

“I know what I promised but that was before this,” you hiss back at him.

“Trouble in paradise? I can promise you, sweetheart, that I will never be a problem. I can be so good for you,” the woman says towards Jake.

Jake chuckles and looks back towards the woman, “I’m sorry for your loss.”

The woman looks confused, “My loss? What do you mean?”

You smile and side step away from Jake, “He means this.” Your hand shoots up to the back of the woman’s head as you grip her hair tightly and pull her head back. “You’re going to leave this bar and you’re never coming back here. You’ll regret it if you do. Now we are going to walk nicely outside and you’re going to leave.”

The woman winces, “Okay!”

You pull her along towards the door then shove her outside.

“Fucking bitch!” the woman says as she stumbles outside.

“You’ll be smart to remember that!” You call as you watch her walk to her car then turn around heading back inside.

You see Jake at the bar holding your drink which he hands to you when you reach him. He uses his now free hand to pull you towards him then wraps his arm around you.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re possessive?” Jake asks with a chuckle.

“Anyone ever tell you to shut up?” You quip back.

“Every goddamn day of my life.”

#jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #Jake hangman Seresin x reader #spitfire #hangman x female!reader

[moremaybank]

THIS LOVE — j.m

pairing actor!jj maybank x actress!reader

chapter summary jj faces the possibility of his scandal going public. then, he ends up reconnecting with you after five years. what happens when the two of you end up as costars for your upcoming romantic comedy?

warnings mentions of a sex tape, mentions of domestic abuse (jj and luke), language, violence, sexual content/eventual smut, anxiety. ex best friends to lovers, fake dating. this will be updated as the story develops. [2.2k]

author's note just a little post of the first chapter to build the hype! hope you enjoy and decide to continue reading ♡︎ also special s/o to @mvybanks and @jjsbank444 for beta reading and quelling my nerves &lt;3

recommended listening second chances by kiana ledé ft. 6lack

this love — the complete playlist ;; the masterlist ;; the tag list

❝ CHAPTER ONE ❞

JJ

Threesomes are fun. Foursomes, however, are a blast. 

At least, JJ Maybank seems to think so. 

“You have three different women threatening to release your sex tape. It’s not a good look for you, JJ.”

Well, he does when they don’t include a secretly-filmed sex tape and three fame-thirsty girls trying to ruin his career for a quick cash grab. 

“It’s not like they’re three separate tapes. We were all together when it was made,” JJ smirks. 

Josh, his manager, lets out an exasperated sigh. “That doesn’t make things any better, and it does nothing to help our circumstances. You need to clean up your act and you need to start doing it now, Maybank, or you’re going to lose everything.”

JJ rolls his eyes for what feels like the millionth time in the fifteen minutes that this meeting has been going on. It’s bullshit, really. He’s one of the hottest actors in Hollywood right now. He’s youthful, dashingly handsome, and loaded. The world is his freakin’ oyster, and he deserves to have some fun.

“You’re supposed to keep up your whole approachable, goofy, boy-next-door image intact, and having a ménage à…quatre, is not the way to do it.” my publicist, Andrea, chimes in. “If you aren’t careful, you’re going to lose your entire fanbase. You’re one of the most universally-liked celebrities in the business, right now. If this gets out, you’re going to have to kiss your crystal clear reputation goodbye.”

“So, let’s just pay ‘em the hush money. What do I care?” JJ says, taking his cap off and running a hand through his unruly strands.

“And you’re fine with forking over ten million dollars? Just like that?” Andrea scowls. “What if they take the money and still decide to release the tape? Or demand more?”

“Then we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Andrea. Now, are we done here? I’m supposed to meet my co-star for my new movie in an hour and I’d really like to get in another — how did you put it? Ah, yes. Ménage á quatre — before I go.”

Josh runs a hand over his face, “Do you care about anything anymore?” 

JJ ignores his statement, putting his hat back on and sitting up in his chair. “Can I leave?”

He can tell that Josh wants to scold him or make some witty remark in return, but he bites his tongue. 

“Go. And, please, for the love of all things holy, do not screw this up.” 

If JJ had a penny for every time he’s heard that, he’d be richer than Jeff fucking Bezos.

-

Y/N

“And last but not least, this is your dressing room. You’ll have your own trailer, but this is more for when we’re actually on set and in between takes.”

You grin as you look around the luxurious room. There’s a huge vanity in front of you, as well as some plush couches, and you don’t fail to notice the large mini-fridge in the corner of the room or the flat-screen TV plastered onto the wall. There’s a window as well, letting in the California sunshine you’ve come to love and appreciate beyond your beliefs.

“Wow, this is…amazing. I can’t thank you guys enough for this opportunity. I’m so grateful, I hope you know that.”

“Don’t be silly, Y/N. You’re the very reason we wanted to do this project in the first place. If anything, we’re the lucky ones,” Derek, the director states with a grin. “So, you ready to meet your co-star, or what?”

“Yeah! I mean, I’m nervous, but, beyond excited.”

Derek leads you back into the hallway, and you make your way to one of the offices. 

“I think you’ll love him. Word is, he comes from the Outer Banks just like you. Who knows, you’ve probably met him in passing.”

Wait…what? He’s from OBX? No. No way. He couldn’t possibly mean—

“Y/N Y/L/N, meet the esteemed JJ Maybank,” Derek states, his proud smile growing sizeably larger than you thought possible. 

It doesn’t matter how excited he is, though. All you can focus on is your heart beating out of your chest and the ringing in your ears. You see Derek’s lips moving but you can’t hear a thing. Your eyes are caught on the blonde in front of you, and all you can think about is how painful it is to look into those oceanic eyes after five years.

It’s equally as painful as it was the last time you saw him. If not, more.

“Uh— Y/N, I…it’s— it’s been a while,” JJ stutters out. 

It’s all too much. Seeing him here, in front of you. His eyes locked on yours, his hand reaching out to touch you but retracting once he notices the fear in your gaze. Your eyes flit over to Derek, whose face has a more than confused look painted over his features. 

“Excuse me, Derek, I— I need to get out of here.” 

You speed into the restroom, locking the door behind you and setting your hands on the counter. Your chest tightens, and your breathing speeds up. She shudders, trying to shake it out as the room starts to feel like it’s closing in on you.

“You’re okay. You’re okay. You can do this. Don’t let him get to you,” you say, staring at yourself in the mirror. “It’s just…it’s just JJ.”

You feel the tears start to well in your eyes and you watch as they overtake their boundaries and roll down your flushed cheeks. You’re quick to wipe them away, though, refusing to admit defeat. 

“Stop,” you tell yourself. “It’s been five years. You’re better than this.”

You aren’t sure if the words are true to your heart, because all you can think about is how the boy you loved from the ages seven to eighteen — the one who betrayed you and shattered you into a million pieces — is now your co-star for the romantic comedy you’ve just been cast in.

What could possibly go wrong?

A lot, you think. A lot could go wrong. 

JJ

JJ watches as you make your way back into Derek’s office, shooting him a convincing smile.

“My apologies, Derek. Girl troubles,” you say. 

JJ still knows you well enough to see that you’re hoping Derek will believe your bullshit excuse. 

“Oh, uh, no worries at all, Y/N. I completely understand. I’ve got three daughters at home,” he speaks, trying to assure you that everything is fine. He places this hand on JJ’s shoulder, squeezing slightly. “JJ, here, was just telling me how the two of you have known each other since you were in elementary school. It must be quite the hell of a reunion, huh?”

You plaster a fake grin onto your lips, “One hell of a reunion, indeed.”

JJ refuses to look at you, his ex-best friend, and vice-versa. Truthfully, he’s terrified to catch your eye again. He’s not sure if he’ll be able to form a coherent sentence if he does. 

“Well, I’ve got some stuff to take care of, so I’ll leave you two to catch up.”

Derek exits his office, and you and JJ are left in complete and utter silence.

God, JJ missed you so much. He’d seen you making headlines just as you always said you would, but he was always quick to click away, deciding not to dwell on everything he’d lost. But this, now, seeing you right in front of him as gorgeous as ever…it made the walls he’d worked so hard to put up begin to crack. 

Then again, you’d always had that effect on him. 

Even after all these years, he was still a complete wreck over you. You held his heart in the palm of your hand and he wasn’t even sure if you knew it.

Your scent was still etched into his mind, still buzzing deep within his senses and his memory. You smelled of the saltwater beaches of the Outer Banks. The notes of coconut from the shampoo he’d recognized still lingering in the tresses of your hair. The sweet hints of vanilla that clutched to your skin are prominent as ever. The combination sounds like a lot, and it was, but not in the overpowering way one would assume. They blended into one heavenly and unique fragrance. 

She smelled like her, he thought. She smelled like home. 

To be honest, JJ wasn’t sure whether or not this was a reminder he wanted to welcome with open arms, but either way, here it was. Here you were. After the way he’d hurt you and destroyed your relationship forever. 

After he lost himself. 

Funnily enough, you’d always had a way of popping up whenever he needed and longed for you. He never even had to speak a single word. You just always knew. And you might not have guessed it now, but he needed you more than he ever had before.

JJ scratches his brow with his index finger. “So, um…how have you been?” 

“Don’t. Just…don’t.”

“Y/N, please,” he pleads. He almost wants to get down on his knees and beg. You can’t even look at him, and that hurts more than he could ever put into words.

“No. I don’t wanna hear it. I’m fine with being professional while we film this movie, but I’m not getting into this with you. I’m not getting into any of it.”

JJ remains silent, choosing to nod because he’s not totally sure he can find his voice. 

As much as he hated to let the thought in, you were a walking reminder of every bad decision he’d made since he left the island and never looked back. He looked at you, and he saw two things. The first being the crinkling of your bright eyes when you smiled. The melodic laugh he could pull from your lips at a moment’s notice. Your hair blowing in the wind as you stuck your head out the window of John B’s Twinkie. And the second being the look of despise and pain on your face as you confronted him. The mascara-stained tears flowing down your heated cheeks. The way you walked away from him and deliberately chose not to look back and steal a second glance at him. 

How was he expected to act all suave and cool when you were right there in front of him, actively choosing not to even look in his direction?

Truth is, he doesn’t think he can. 

-

JJ glances at his phone once he leaves the production office still shaken by the day’s events. 

2 Missed FaceTime Calls from John B

JJ swipes to the right and watches as his phone rings, awaiting his best friend’s answer while he plops down on the steps in front of the building. The line rings for a few moments before he hears shuffling through the speaker, followed by John B’s face appearing on his screen.

“Hey, man. how was your meeting? Your new costar as hot as we imagined?”

JJ tears his eyes away from the camera, his lip sinking between his teeth. His complexion pales, and John B picks up on it. 

“Jeez. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Because I have,” JJ deadpans. He’s still reeling from your presence, and it shows.

“Huh?”

“It’s Y/N…my costar is Y/N.”

“Ooh, yikes,” John B responds. “Did she nut-punch you?”

“It’s not funny.” 

JJ tugs his cap off as he always does when he’s stressed, and his fingers card through his hair. He tugs lightly at the strands as he tries to alleviate the tension building up in his head. 

“She couldn’t even look at me, John B. Her eyes were on me for all of five seconds before she made an excuse to go to the bathroom. Then, when she came back, she looked at everything but me. She barely even let me speak to her.”

“Well, to be fair, you guys didn’t exactly leave things on the best of terms.”

“Yeah, JB. I know. Thanks for the reminder, as if I didn’t fucking know that already.”

“All right, look. Did you fuck up majorly? Yeah. But the love the two of you had…it ran deep. It doesn’t just disappear without a trace, especially if things are this heated after five years. I think you can get her to forgive you.” 

JJ scoffs, “Yeah? And how do you suppose I do that?”

John B gives him a knowing look through the screen. 

“You have to tell her the truth, JJ.”

“Funny.”

“J,” John B mildly scolds. “The reason she hates you right now is because you weren’t honest with her. The JJ she knew before that night never would’ve treated her the way you did. Buck up. Tell her.”

The call disconnects, and JJ is left staring at his screen with a tense jaw. He knew John B was right. He was always right. But how on earth was he expected to muster up the courage and tell you the truth about that night? He doubted — no. He knew it’d be impossible to convince you to hear him out. 

Then again, he also knew he had to try. Because he couldn’t stand to be around you nearly every single day for the next few months, knowing that you wouldn’t spit on him if he was on fire.

jj tag list: @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @dreamingwithrafe @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @slytheringirlthatkillpeople @tell-me-when-ur-ready @bbycowboi @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @pankhoeforlife @cecesrings @wildflwrdarlin @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @topper-thornton @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptherecs @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @pinkpantheris @julesmendoza890 @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie

#₊‧°𐐪 this love — j.m 𐑂°‧₊ #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank au #jj maybank series #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank angst #jj maybank fluff #jj obx #jj outer banks #obx #obx x reader #obx x you #obx au #obx series #obx smut #obx imagine #obx angst #obx fluff #outer banks #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks au #outer banks series #outer banks smut #outer banks imagine #outer banks angst #outer banks fluff

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

she got the best of me (jake seresin pt.9/12)

PART OF MY “WHATEVER THIS IS” SERIES WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader

NICKNAME: Sunshine

Warning: A bit of self-body shaming

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

PLOT: Penny Benjamin’s niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

Jake began reaching out immediately the morning after his birthday to try and beg for the opportunity to try to fix his mistakes. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love his groveling, but it did little to alleviate the growing ache in your ribcage, right below your clavicle where the hurt burned. There was a gaping hole where your security used to be nestled, the comfort of a humming rhythm that sounded like independence.

He’d struck out twice and you really weren’t trying to go for a third go. But even so, you now hated the space you existed in, cursing at the emptiness of the couch cushions and the perfectly placed knit blanket being exactly where you left it the last time it was used. You hated your coffee maker, waiting patiently for you to brew the first fresh pot in the morning. It was too quiet, too perfect and you missed Jake’s touch in everything that you had become. You hated it.

You’d began to pick back up with your shifts at the Hard Deck the day after Hangman’s birthday, no longer afraid to approach the old memories after having the opportunity to call him out on the bullshit. He’d yet to show up after work for his usual beer, perhaps too afraid to face your seething wrath in person or not quite able to afford the possibility of Penny ringing the bell the minute he came into her line of site.

The line went silent after a week or so and you were grateful to learn that Mav had set up a training exercise that would take them out to sea for a week, the time to think without the looming of his presence on North Island would be a fresh breath of air. It gave you just enough peace to wrap up your final revisions to your Thesis for school, to focus enough to present in front of your faculty.

After the closed presentation wrapped, you were left alone in the empty hallway of the college awaiting the news of the decision to graduate you. Wearing a floral jumpsuit and denim jacket, your leg bounced unapologetically while you tried to find a comfortable resting spot for your leg.

Silence was deafening as it ate away at your confidence, leaving you to pick persistently at your cuticles when a door burst open down the hall. A flood of bodies seeped through the seemingly small, framed door through the patches of white light. It was blinding but you recognized the khaki service uniforms easily and stood when Nat’s face sharpened in the natural light of the hallway. “You’re back,” you comment, rising to your feet to wrap your arms around her, Aries collecting the two of you in her arms tightly.

“We just got off the boat a half an hour ago,” Nat explains, pulling back so that you can hug the rest of the squad.

“We didn’t want you to be alone while you waited for the decision,” Gemini muses as she rubs your back, a soothing and calm gesture from the quiet WSO. The comment warmed your heart as you took in all the faces, all except for –

“He didn’t think you’d want to see him,” Fanboy comments before you even get the chance to process the lack of Jake’s face in the crowd. And though the sentiment is genuine and kind of him, a considerate thought, you’d never needed his presence more as you awaited the future decision that would make or break your career.

Mav, ever the head of the found family, stepped through the crowd to hug you tightly. “Penny is setting up a barbeque tonight in celebration of your success,” his change of topic swift, “Like a graduation party in the backyard.”

“And then Rooster and I are going to see up a bonfire on the beach for after,” Payback remarks, nudging the tall, broad man. Rooster nods, his mind elsewhere as he tries to smile.

“I don’t know if I’ve passed,” you admit honestly, the quiver in your tone evident to the pilots surrounding you and showering you with love. It warms your heart and makes you take a shaky breath, curling into a smile. Eventually, everyone lays out on the waiting benches and the tiled floor. They share their stories of training, as much as the confidentiality of the military allows.

It’s in the quiet of the hallway of your university that Bob and Gemini share the news of their engagement. “Wait, what?” you ask, staring back and forth between the two. Blooming blushes seep through their cheeks as they lean into one another. You take in their comfortability, the closeness and the rings resting against the metal of their dog tags. “I guess I really shouldn’t be surprised with the way the two of you always snuck off together. I’m assuming pre-North Island?”

“Three years back in Lemoore,” Gemini quips, staring up at Bob lovingly.

“Good god you two are patient,” you giggle just as there is a click of a lock across the hall, and everyone freezes. Slowly, the door creeps open and your faculty mentor appears with a wide smile. You feel sheepish in the moment, your family surrounding you and crowding the hallway.

“We’re ready for you, dear,” her voice is gentle as she nods to the room, smiling around at all the pilots on the floor. You nod, bite your lip as you stand on shaky knees and cross the floor to follow her in the room. Minutes later, you return to the hallway and to the bitter silence. Only knowing the group to be a rowdy bunch of beer drinkers, you were shocked to be met with such a wall of silence when you return to the hallway a few minutes later.

“I passed,” you announce to the group, sobs of excitement coaxing out of your throat, and you jump up and down in your best friends’ arms. The hallway erupts in a roar of ovations, rising to their feet to join in the circle of elation. Javy lifts you through the air in delight while Mav wipes a few tears from his lashes, proud of the woman you’d become.

The noise is so frightening, your mentor comes back through the door as concern dissipates at the celebration. She’s sweet when she asks you all to move out of the building for the respect of the offices while laughing. Fanboy joins your car, praising you as you all make a brigade down the road to get to Penny’s house. When you turn the corner to her street, Rooster begins to honk the horn of his blue Bronco, an echoing mirage of horns blaring as the cars pull up outside the house in a single formation.

The notion and attention make you laugh in embarrassment, though you’re not truly embarrassed. Honored is more like it, you pinpoint just before you climb out of the vehicle and follow the cheering crowd through the doors into the house. Amelia sees you first, rushing up to you and squeezing you tightly around the middle.

            “There she is,” Penny’s voice echoes through the kitchen as she comes around the corner, joining in the hug as the pilots make their way outside into the decorated backyard. “My niece, a professor,” she coos and tightens her grip slightly.

            “I’m so proud of you,” she murmurs, knowing the struggle you have around genuine compliments. “Someone begged me to come in, I hope you’re okay with that.” Penny’s tone turns gentle but stern as she keeps an arm around your waist as she turns to the kitchen. And there he is.

            Jake’s dressed casually in a white button down and light washed jeans. His hair is sunkissed from the days at sea. He’d clearly been dragging his fingers through it in anxious tugs because it looked wild, sticking up in a few different spots. Freshly shaven, his lips were pressed in a tight smile to try to hide his nerves and he clutches a bouquet of white daisies, wrapped in your favorite flower shop’s kraft paper.

            “I’m okay,” you turn to share a look with Penny, letting her slide from your body and ushering Mav through the glass doors into the backyard to give you privacy. You return your gaze to Jake and silence encases the two of you, suffocating the room as your hands come to clutch each other in front of your tummy.

The act is subtle and yet, Jake feels your self-conscious thoughts through the air. It makes him hate himself more. Makes him wish he’d drowned in the freezing icy depths of the water after having to had eject from his aircraft four days prior during an exercise. “There’s too many things I want to say, I don’t know where to start,” his words slice through the tension, an honest admission that sounds so vulnerable compared to your last conversation.

“Try one,” you scoff.

“I’m in lo-,” he starts but your face turns sour, eyes wide at the imagination of what’s at the end of that sentence. His brows crease at the words and he takes in your discomfort.

“Try a smaller one,” you prompt him and he’s nodding dumbly, swallowing. His hands are so sweaty that they stick to the kraft paper in his hands.

“Congratulations on passing,” Jake says, starting small like you recommended. He watches your shoulders relax slightly and takes a deep breath. “I’m really proud of you.”

“Thank you,” you tell him, suddenly feeling the burning sensation behind your eyes. After all morning of wanting his comfort, of his arms around you as you awaited the fate of your life – all you had pictured was him. And now, here in front of you, you felt it impossible to look him in the eye. You zeroed in on the flowers in his hand, on the squeezing of the stems in his grasp. Too many things to say. “What else?” you ask, staring down at your painted toes.

“You look beautiful,” Jake shares, taking in the floral pattern of your jumpsuit and the way you’d grown out the pieces of hair around your face, framing your round features to perfection. “I fucked things up, I have so much to apologize for. I was terrible and I don’t deserve you. I almost died during an exercise and the first person I saw when I was going down was you. The watch is perfect, these are for you,” Jake begins to list everything as it rolls off his tongue like a hurried admission of guilt, shifting awkwardly from his spot in the doorway of the kitchen.

Your brain is trying to take in everything he’s throwing at you, a headache coming on as he shuffles closer to you to offer the flowers into your grasp. But the action leaves his hands empty, and he doesn’t know how to move his limbs anymore, so he shoves them in his pockets to avoid the tremor he’d developed when he stupidly walked away from you.

“Slow down,” you quip with frustration, eyes closing. It’s the first visceral reaction he’s seen from you since his birthday, and he’d never been more grateful. “You nearly died? What the fuck Jake?” you drop your flowers lightly onto the entryway table and reach up to grasp his cheeks. You notice the yellowing of a faded bruise on his cheekbone and the picky scabbing of a cut along his hairline. Your fingers gently brush over it with a tenderness that has Jake melting. He’d give anything to keep your hands on him. “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” his shaking fingertips reach up to cover yours. “I’d really love to apologize first for everything that happened before we talk about me.” The memories of your empty bed find their way back to the center of your mind and your hands slip away back to your sides like his skin was a flame licking you into a scorching burn.

“I thought leaving was the smartest move,” Jake finally admits, his words hanging in the air as the tension builds up. A flare of anger wafts through you as you take another step away from him.

You clench your jaw tightly, trying to maintain your cool. You just graduated…today is supposed to be a good day. “I told you how terrible my ex was about my body, and you thought it was a good idea to leave after you see my figure for the first time? You thought that was smart?”

“I shouldn’t have slept with you that night,” Jake says.

“Wow.”

“No,” his hands go up in defense, irritated that he can’t communicate that he wants to, the way you deserve. “That’s not what I meant,” Jake curses and wipes a hand over his reddened face. “I shouldn’t have slept with you that night because I wanted you to know how much you meant to me before we got further in our relationship.”

“That is so,”

“Let me explain,” his voice is strong, stopping you in your place as he finally finds his footing. He’s standing steady now, hands on his hips as he comes clean and lets all his insecurities out. “Sleeping with you after that party felt like something Hangman would’ve done. Who I was before I knew you, before you let me into your life who thought intimacy was a quick one-night stand with some girl whose name I didn’t remember the next morning.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, listening intently to his confession as your back rests against the cool wall. “You deserved so much more than that guy, and, in that moment, I felt like I hadn’t made progress in showing you who I’d become,” he steps forward slightly, closer in proximity of your space and you don’t stop him. “I felt like I wasn’t showing up as who I’d become with you beside me and even though we were becoming more than some stupid fake relationship, I got insecure that I couldn’t be everything for you the way that you’re everything I’ve ever needed in my life. So, I left,” he nods, tears starting to collect at his waterline.

“I left in a moment of self-conscious, self-loathing. And it was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done and I’m so sorry.”

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#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #jake seresin imagines #whatever this is universe! #hangman x sunshine

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Platonic Yandere Paulie and little sister reader

Fix This

Yandere Paulie x Little Sister Reader

2.7k words

“I’m gonna kill him,” you panted out between breaths. Dock One of the Galley-La Company had finally come into view, and while you were relieved to have made it here, it was overshadowed by how pissed you were.

Why were you so mad? Because you just spent the past HOUR running from your brother’s gaggle of debt collectors. You aren’t sure who’s more stupid here. His dumbass for continuously taking out loans when he hasn’t paid back a single one yet, or them for being dumb enough to keep giving him money.

It would seem that you’ve got a target on your back purely by association. After years of not being able to get a penny out of him, they’re now trying to shake you down for money. Which, in your humble opinion, was bullshit.

You hop over the rope divider to enter the dock and look around. Paulie isn’t anywhere to be seen. If he’s left to do more gambling, you’re gonna strangle him with his own ropes.

Spotting one of your fellow foremen, you make your way over to him, “Hey Kaku, have you seen Paulie?”

“He’s been pacing the fence looking for you,” Kaku answered before even turning around to face you. Once he did, he looked surprised at your appearance, “You look whacked, did something happen?”

“Oh it’s nothing, I just spent the past hour running from my stupid brother’s bad decisions,” you grumbled. At this moment, all you wanted to do was sit down and catch your breath, but you needed to give Paulie a piece of your mind first. Possibly with your fists.

“There you are! Do you have any idea how late you are?!” 

Speak of the devil. Without even looking at him you could feel your anger spiking again. This guy had the audacity to cop an attitude with you even though he was at fault. Kaku wisely went back to what he was working on, not wanting to be caught in the middle of this.

Paulie stomped closer and grabbed your shoulder to make you face him. With how mad you were, this was a bad move. The second you were turned towards him, you violently shoved him away. You were looking at him with nothing but contempt, and he visibly flinched from how scorching the look was.

He cleared his throat and found the nerve to continue talking, “Don’t give me that look! You’re damn near an hour late, where have you been?”

“Ask your debt collectors,” you seethed. Each word was ground out with malice as you continued to glower at him. 

“What do they have to do with this?” Despite the question, you could tell he already knew what you were getting at. Yet here he was, playing dumb.

You threw your hands up in frustration, “Everything! From the second I left our home they were on my ass! It took me an hour to lose those pricks!” 

“Why would they be after you? Are you also borrowing money?” This guy had the audacity to take on a scolding tone towards you. You want to throttle him.

Your hands shot out and brought him to eye level with you, “No, dumbass! They’re after me because YOU won’t fucking pay them!”

“Hey! Watch your language, that is not lady like at all!”

“This is not about my fucking language! This is about your stupid ass decisions getting me into trouble! If it weren’t for you borrowing money around the damn clock with zero intention of ever paying it back, this wouldn’t happen!” You shoved him away and took a step back.

Paulie fumbled for a minute to find a decent response, “I- I will pay it back, I just need to get lucky is all.” Well, that wasn’t a decent answer at all.

“You can’t be serious,” you stared at him like he was insane, which in this moment you think he was to be honest. “What do you mean you need to ‘get lucky’?! That’s never going to happen, you suck at gambling! You couldn’t win a game of poker even if you knew everyone’s hands!”

“Excuse you! Those games are rigged, that’s all! I just need to figure out how to play the system and I’ll make everything back and then some,” Paulie huffed indignantly.

Something about how he responded made your fury finally reach its boiling point, and you screamed at him, “Of course the games are rigged! That’s how casinos make money: by taking advantage of dumbasses like you!” 

“What’s going on here?”

Both you and Paulie snap your heads toward the new voice. Mortification set it as you recognized your boss standing there. Iceburg just witnessed you getting into a screaming match with your brother at work.

“(Y/N) and Paulie are arguing because (y/n) was chased around the city by his debt collectors,” Kalifa readjusted her glasses while stating this like it was well known information. How she knows all this is beyond you. That woman must have eyes and ears everywhere, you’re sure of it.

Your resentment simmered down, but only from embarrassment. Tears burned at your eyes as you desperately tried to keep them from surfacing. This was humiliating. At the very least, Iceburg was a kind man and didn’t reprimand you. Instead he asked, “Is that why your jacket is torn? Are you hurt?”

“Torn?” That was news to you. Giving yourself a quick once over, you found what he was referring to. The seam on your left shoulder was ripped open. Oh, right. This must have happened when one of them grabbed you. You were able to rip yourself away, but it appears your jacket was a casualty. 

“Yeah, that’s why. I’m not hurt though, just upset,” the jacket was shrugged off. You didn’t want to wear it if it looked like this. You could fix it tonight when you got home.

“It looks like you were hurt, unless that bruise is from something else,” Iceburg stepped closer and stared at your wrist. Sure enough, there was a bruise in its early stages forming on your wrist where you were grabbed. So that’s why it felt sore.

“Oh, yeah I guess that’s where it came from. I didn’t even notice that until now,” you mumbled. You can’t believe those guys caught you off guard enough to do this to you. Last week you took out three pirates with a plank of wood when they tried to skip out on their bill, but some middle aged loan shark managed to get the drop on you. Shameful. 

Kalifa muttered something about this being sexual harassment, and Iceberg nodded in agreement. He gingerly held your wrist to examine it, “Do you want to take the day off? It would be a bad idea to strain this now and make it worse.”

You snatched your wrist away, “No, that’s okay! I’m fine, really! It doesn’t even hurt.” This wasn’t a complete lie. It was more so tender than outright painful. The last thing you wanted was to sit at home and stew on everything that happened, you would much rather be working.

Iceburg raised a brow at this, but mercifully spared your dignity by not forcing the matter. Returning back to his full height, he promised you that he would deal with the debt collectors targeting people that weren’t involved in their dealings. With that, he bid you all farewell and left.

The silence was heavy and uncomfortable. You could feel Paulie’s eyes on you, but you didn’t want to face him, lest you two start fighting again. 

“I uh- I’ve got a job for us to work on together today, we should get started on that,” you took solace in the fact that he sounded as uncomfortable as you felt.

“Sorry, I already told Kaku I would work with him today, actually,” you lied through your teeth. Working with Paulie would be a horrible idea right now, you can’t imagine why he thinks it’s a good one.

“Seriously? Come on, (y/n), I know you’re mad but don’t be like this. It’s not a big deal, we can talk about it while we work.”

“Not a big deal?!” You snapped. Shit, you’re yelling again. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, you continue, “It’s a big deal to me. I mean it. If you don’t get your shit together and get your debts straightened out soon, I’m going to leave.” 

Being harassed by his enemies is something you’ve been dealing with since you were a kid. Back then they would just follow you around for an intimidation effect, but it seems like the gloves have come off now that you’re an adult. Years of this have worn you down, and now you’re at a breaking point.

“The hell do you mean you’re going to leave?” His voice sounded shockingly cold, you’re not sure you’ve ever heard him talk like that. Especially not to you.

“I mean that if this happens again, I will leave Water 7,” you looked him dead in the eyes, daring him to challenge you.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, Paulie, I do. With my resume I could get a job at any shipyard in the world, so don’t test me,” you didn’t break eye contact once, hoping to get across how serious you are.

He was the first to look away. “I’ll get it taken care of,” is all he said before walking away.

Letting out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, you join Kaku with picking out lumber for some ship repairs, “Thanks for not ratting me out.”

“It makes no odds,” he reassured you. Kaku quickly glanced around and then leaned down to whisper, “I have to ask though, did you mean what you said about leaving, or was that all horsefeathers?”

Horsefeathers? You assume that means something along the lines of bullshit. Whatever, Kaku says weird shit all the time. You shrugged, “I dunno, maybe? I don’t really want to leave; I love living here, but I don’t want to spend my life facing the consequences of someone else’s actions, you know?”

Kaku hummed in acknowledgement and nodded, “That holds water, I understand you wanting to. Besides, a change of pace might be good for you.”

“You think so?” Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to agree and encourage you. It was nice though to have someone supporting you.

“Sure do! Paulie’s been in the ketchup for so long that I can’t imagine him getting out any time soon. Perhaps you leaving would kick him into gear?”

“In the ketchup?” You laughed, “I swear you’re making half these weird things you say up!”

“Am not! It’s a real saying, young lady!” His tone was scolding, but in a playful way.

“We’re like the same age, don’t call me ‘young lady’!” You elbowed him in the side. 

You two fell into a comfortable and casual banter for the rest of the day, which was refreshing. It really helped to take your mind off the problem at hand and cool off. By the time you were ready to go home, you were feeling calm enough to be able to have a reasonable discussion with Paulie.

That’s not to say you weren’t still upset, but you don’t think you’ll be yelling at him anymore. Unless he says something stupid, but at that point whatever happens isn’t on you.

Typically, you’ll walk home together. In the mornings he leaves before you do since he has some extra duties, but in the evening you’ll usually leave together. Sometimes even stopping to get food on the way back. Tonight, though, he was already gone. Internally, you cringe. Is he still mad? You suppose it’s possible, you could tell that what you said about leaving really hurt him.

Walking back alone made you a bit anxious after what happened this morning. You were constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t being tailed. Fortunately, you weren’t seeing anything suspicious. Did Iceburg really take care of this that quickly? Or maybe Kalifa handled it. Her kicks were no joke, that’s for sure.

Entering your shared home, you’re surprised to see that Paulie isn’t home yet. Was he avoiding you? How mature. Rolling your eyes, you toss your torn jacket onto the couch and go rummaging through the closet for the sewing kit you keep on hand for basic repairs.

You’d barely had a chance to start stitching the seam when the front door opened. Paulie came in looking annoyed. He didn’t appear to even see you as he stomped into the kitchen to grab something from the fridge. A beer, presumably. You sighed and resumed repairing your jacket.

His footsteps came towards the living room and came to a stop in the archway. It was silent for a moment, “You’re home?”

“Yep,” you replied. Why does he sound so surprised? Did he think you were just going to peace out after work? 

Paulie joined you on the couch, the cushions dipping under his weight. You still hadn’t looked at him. The silence wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t as tense as it was at the shipyard. He took a long drink from his beer, “Please don’t leave.”

“Don’t drag me into your problems then. If it wasn’t for that I wouldn’t be thinking about it,” you answered stiffly.

“It’s not going to happen again, I took care of it.”

You scoffed, “You took care of it on the way home? What? Did you rob a bank? Or maybe some pirates?” Pulling the invisible stitch tight, you finally look his way. His hair is a mess and his clothes are dirtier than usual. Most noticeably, his knuckles were bloody. “What did you do?”

“I took care of it,” he repeated. 

“How?” You pressed.

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is you promising that you aren’t going to leave,” he took another drink.

“It does matter, I want to know what happened!” From the context clues, it looks like he jumped them. You’re not exactly fond of those people, but they are just trying to get their money back. Beating the shit out of them feels excessive.

Paulie grabbed your face, forcing you to keep looking at him, “Promise me that you aren’t leaving! You can’t leave!”

You wrenched your face away, “God, fine! I promise! Now will you talk to me?” Paulie didn’t answer, instead looking away. You huffed in aggravation, “And what do you mean ‘I can’t leave’? I could if I wanted to.”

That got his attention. His head snapped back to you, his expression was fierce, “No. You. Can’t. You’re just a little girl. There’s a lot of horrible men out there that will take advantage of you the second they get the chance. You need to be here, with me, so I can protect you.” He didn’t yell, but his words were so venomous that it made you flinch regardless. 

“Excuse me? I’m not a little girl, I’m a grown woman and I can handle myself just fine! I really don’t care for this sexist bullshit from you,” you stood abruptly with your repaired jacket in hand. If he was going to be like this, then you were going to go for a walk until he stopped with the misogyny.

You didn’t make it more than five feet before a rope was wrapped around your chest and yanked you back onto the couch. Whipping your head to Paulie, you made no effort to hide how pissed you were, “What the hell are you doing?! Untie me!”

“I thought you could handle yourself?” Paulie wasn’t even paying that much attention to you, instead casually continuing to sip on his beer. He was an expert knot tier, getting out of his clutches without something to cut the ropes was no easy task and he damn well knew that.

“This isn’t funny, let me go!” Your attempts to free yourself are futile. The knots only tighten more as you struggle.

“I’m not letting you go. You are never leaving, and the sooner you accept that, the better,” he states coldly, making no move to ease up the ropes. You can only gawk at him. This wasn’t your brother, he would never speak to you like this. Did your threat to leave really bother him that much?

You’re going to have to proceed extremely carefully if you want to get out of this situation.

#one piece x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #yandere one piece #one piece #yandere #platonic yandere #paulie one piece #iceburg #kaku one piece #kalifa one piece #yanderefangirl

[danielfuckingricciardo]

I Think This is the Beginning of a Beautiful Friendship - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader (Platonic)

Pairing - Daniel Ricciardo x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count - 2.7k

Content Warning - Swearing, sexism mention

Synopsis - The reader loses a friend, but gains one in the form of a previous foe.

Author’s Note - This one has been sat in my drafts for a while, and I honestly wasn’t sure where it was going at all, so I kinda decided to make this like a platonic fic where Daniel and the reader are just friends? Not sure how I feel about it, but I kinda like the kind of flirty banter relationship dynamic going on by the end! Let me know if you like this sort of thing, or if you prefer the ones where they fuck nasty (I’ll be back to that stuff soon, don’t worry lol)

“Go fuck yourself.” You say, and Daniel scoffs.

“But wouldn’t it be more fun if you fucked me instead?” He retorts, and you roll your eyes.

“I’m not in the mood to play these fucking games, Daniel, not right now. Just… fuck off and leave me alone.” You shout back, fighting the angry tears that had begun to form in your waterlines.

“Oh, stop playing, you know you secretly love me, you’re just too stubborn to admit it.” He says, and you sigh.

“Look, I’ve had a shit night, I just wanna go home and cry, so I really can’t be arsed to deal with your teasing bullshit right now.” You say, taking a step towards him to point your black-polished finger in his face.

It’s at this point that you see Daniel’s cocky expression drop to one of concern. At least, that’s what it looked like to you, but you couldn’t be sure. This wasn’t one of the expressions you had filed away in the section of your mind that related to Daniel. You hadn’t seen it before. You’d seen disgust, loathing, and that cocky smirk you always wanted to punch off of his face, but never concern.

The bass of the music thrummed inside your chest, and the smoke and dull red lights of the club offered you some protection as your eyes began to lose grip on your tears, sending them cascading down your cheeks.

“Just, leave me alone, yeah?” You say, your voice barely audible, before you storm out of the club and into the brisk coldness of the evening air.

You wrap your arms around your body to preserve what little warmth remained inside you. Every little hair on your body stood on end as the wind whipped around you, cooling you from the outside as your now frozen heart did the same from the inside. Your entire body felt numb. The only heat you felt was from the fresh, salty tears that dripped down your cheeks.

You hold up your arm to hail a passing taxi, but the driver sails right past you. Not deterred, you try again, only for the driver to pass you without even sparing a glance in your direction.

“Fuck. Shit. Fuck.” You yell in frustration, stamping your foot on the concrete path as a spoilt child might after being denied a shiny new toy.

You hear a whistle from behind you, and an approaching cab flashes his indicators and stops in the lay-by beside you.

You can’t help but silently curse your inability to whistle, and consider for a moment grovelling to whoever had called the cab to allow you to take it instead.

Turning around, you are met with those same sad, brown eyes you had seen for the first time in the club. Daniel had followed you outside, and had been the one to call the cab.

“It looked like you were having a little trouble with the cabbies, so I thought I’d help you out.” Daniel says, and you shoot him a quick smile in gratitude. You may not really like him, but you wouldn’t allow yourself to be seen as rude, no matter how much the sight of him made your blood boil.

“I thought I told you to leave me alone?” You say, walking beside him to approach the door of the black cab.

“It’s gonna take more than that to get rid of me, you must know that by now.” Daniel says, and you can’t help but chuckle in response.

“Oh, believe me, I know. If that was all it took I’d have been rid of you months ago. You’re like a bad penny, Ricciardo.”

“Bad penny is actually my middle name.” Daniel says, with a flash of a smile.

“Oh yeah? I thought it was ‘Danger’ or ‘I’ve got a massive cock and a hotel room five minutes from here’?”

“I’ve got a few middle names, actually. Those are… some of them.” Daniel responds, and you chuckle once again, wiping away a cold tear from your cheek.

Daniel opens the door of the cab, allowing you to slide into the seat.

“Hey, budge up.” Daniel says, poking you in the shoulder.

“You’re not coming with me.” You say, matter-of-factly.

“Oh yes I am. I can’t let you leave on your own when you’re crying and stuff.”

“Fine.” You say as you slide into the seat behind the driver.

Daniel takes the seat beside you and closes the door, allowing the cabbie to pull away and take off down the darkened street.

‘Where to?” The cabbie says, and you bite your lip.

“Fuck, I don’t know.” You say.

“Your hotel?” Daniel suggests, and you shake your head.

“Mine then.” Daniel says, “The Shard, please mate.”

The cabbie nods and returns his focus to the busy London streets.

“So, what’s with you? I’ve never seen you cry before, it’s weird.” Daniel says, and you sniff.

“I’m not crying. Not really, anyway. I’m just angry and when I’m angry my eyes like to leak.” You respond, wiping away a stray tear from your cheek.

“Fair enough. What has you so angry? I’ve made you angry a million times, and you never cried then, so this must be serious rage, yeah?” He asks, that same concerned look reappearing on his face.

“You really wanna know?” You question, quickly glancing up from your lap to briefly make eye contact with Daniel.

“A problem shared is a problem halved, right?”

“Well, oh, it’s stupid really. You’ll laugh at me.” You say, keeping your eyes locked to your hands which were positioned in your lap, picking the skin at the edge of one of your cuticles.

“I promise I won’t laugh. Swear on my life.”

“Well, if you’re swearing on your life, then you must mean it, because you really love your life.” You chuckle, glancing up to meet Daniel’s eyes once again for a second. You could tell from that one look that he was serious, he really wanted to know what was bothering you so much.

“As I said, it’s stupid, but my friend who came out to celebrate with us, she disappeared, and I found out that she left with some guy. And I’m just so pissed off because she always does this. She always abandons me and leaves me on my own in random clubs in favour of random guys who’ll probably leave her on read the next day. And to top it all off, I check my phone and she’s messaged me to say that they’re in our hotel room so I probably should find somewhere else to stay the night. Like what the fuck, right?” You say, your anger rising within you once again.

“That’s fucked up, she can’t just kick you out of your hotel room like that.” Daniel says, and you nod.

“Exactly, and I paid for the fucking room too! Like, what? And I don’t have any other friends, everyone here hates me, so it’s not like I can just crash with someone else. Usually I end up finding some seedy bar that stays open all night and sitting there till the morning. But I just don’t wanna do that anymore. I’m done. This is the last time. And if it means I officially have no friends left on this planet anymore, then that’s fine, because I realise now that she wasn’t a good friend anyway.”

“You have friends, don’t be fucking insane.” Daniel says, and you scoff.

“Oh really, do I? Like who?” You ask sarcastically.

“Like me?”

“You’re not my friend, Daniel, you hate me. And you don’t have to pretend to be my friend now that you can see how truly pathetic I am.” You say, looking up into his eyes which appear to be filled with confusion.

“You think I hate you?” He asks, a tinge of hurt in his voice.

“Well, obviously, you do. All the competition, constant teasing and backhanded compliments to the press, I see it, and I understand it. Don’t try and deny it, Daniel.” You say, giving him a sad smile.

“I will try to deny it, because it’s not true! I don’t hate you, and I never have. It was all just… banter? I thought you knew that?”

“Huh, really?” You say, and Daniel nods.

“£15.70 please mate.” The cabbie says as the car comes to a stop outside the skyscraper that Daniel called home during your team’s brief stay in London.

Daniel pays the driver and the two of you step out once again into the cold night air.

You wrap your arms around your body to keep warm as you make your approach to the entrance of the building. Daniel notices this and shrugs his jacket from his shoulders, wrapping around your own and offering you a small smile.

“Thanks.” You say, and he nods at you.

“Does this mean that all this time I thought you were just… joking back to me that you actually hated me?” Daniel asks, breaking the silence that had descended between the two of you.

“I never hated you. I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to hate you. You’re just so damn loveable, everyone seems to think the sun shines out of your arse and it’s hard to deny it does. No matter how much I really, really wanted to hate you, I just… couldn’t.” You say, and Daniel laughs.

“Well, there you go then, you don’t hate me, and I don’t hate you. I think that makes us friends, right?” Daniel asks, nudging your shoulder with his own.

“I think there’s a few steps between being enemies and being friends we skipped, but considering I’m currently severely lacking in friends, I’m willing to skip a few of ‘em.” You say with a chuckle.

“Okay, so, now that we’re friends, you wanna tell me more about what happened with that bitch who abandoned you? You don’t have to, I just think it’d be good for you to get it all off your chest.” Daniel says, stopping to take a seat on an empty bench.

You take a deep breath in and out, watching as the water vapour clouds around you in the cold night air. You take a seat beside him and he squishes against you for warmth.

“Well, where do you want to start? We’ve known each other since we were kids. Went to boarding school together. We both never really fitted in, I got bullied a lot by the other kids for being a teacher’s pet. It didn’t help that the school were always using my karting trophies as a flex, showing me off like some prized pig. She was your typical nerdy kid, was always getting picked on for it, so I used to stand up for her. But then school finished, she continued her studies and I kept going with my racing.”

You take a pause and look over at Daniel, who appears to be listening intently. He gives you a nod with raised eyebrows, urging you to continue.

“Well, I tried my hardest to keep contact with her. Whenever I was around for races I always used to invite her out with us to catch up. But it always ended the same way. She’d cop off with some guy on the team, leaving me to fend for myself in the club. I always assumed she thought that I had plenty of driver friends to hang out with, so it wouldn’t be a problem, but maybe she just didn’t care? Like I get that she didn’t get to be that crazy party girl in her teens, neither did I, but you don’t just abandon your friend for a shag like that, right? Like that’s fucked up.”

“Why didn’t you have other friends, like other drivers, I mean?” Daniel asks, and you chuckle awkwardly.

“Well, that’s a loaded question if I’ve ever heard one. I guess I still had hang-ups about not fitting in. Shit had been tough as a girl in karting, a lot of the boys used to laugh at me and make fun. So I guess I just assumed that my teammates in F3 and F2 would do the same? It was just easier to keep my distance and protect myself than risk dealing with all that shit again. And now I’m here, Red Bull’s reserve driver, the only woman in touching distance of an F1 career right now, and I’m just totally isolated. Except for you, I guess.”

“Exactly, you have me now. Fuck her, and fuck all this anxiety you’ve got going on. Shitty kids will be shitty kids, but these guys on the grid, they’re good. Didn’t you see the praise and kind words they all said when journalists asked them about you? They’re all stoked that F1 is finally taking a step in the right direction, and I’m sure they’d be just as excited to get to know you as I am.” Daniel says, and you scoff.

“Trust me, you won’t be excited to get to know me once you actually start.” You say, and Daniel shakes his head.

“Well, I’m getting to know you now, and I like you. Besides, I think I already had a good idea of who you were as a person. You were willing to get in on the whole banter thing, which I liked. At least, I assumed it was just banter. Maybe that’s on me, I should’ve talked to you first before I started this whole teasing thing with the press, made sure we were both on the same page. I’m sorry for that, for making you think I hated you. I think you’re great actually, and I’m actually really proud of you for proving those sexist teenage cuntbags wrong.” Daniel says, and your previously frozen heart begins to defrost within you.

“Well, that’s really sweet of you to say. Thank you,” You say, pausing to take a breath, “I’d like to get to know you better too. The real Daniel, that is, not the carefully cultivated media personality version of you. Speaking of, you’ve gotta teach me how to do that.”

“Do what?” Daniel asks, a bemused look on his face.

“The PR shit. I mean, you’re so good at it! Like you’re not even on the grid this year and yet you still have more support than most of the guys out there!” You say, and Daniel chuckles.

“A winning personality is not something that can be taught, it’s something you’re born with, baby. But maybe, just maybe, I can take you under my wing and coax it out of you?” He suggests, nudging your shoulder gently with his own.

“Really? So I’d be like… your apprentice?” You ask, and he nods.

“Something like that. The Luke Skywalker to my Yoda.”

“Teach me to play the PR game, you will.” You say in a poor imitation of Yoda’s voice, and Daniel cracks up.

“Film nerd.” He says, wiping away a stray tear from his waterline that had escaped during his episode of laughter.

“Hey, you made the Star Wars reference first mate!” You say, slapping him on the arm.

“Fair enough. Now lets get inside, yeah? I’m freezing my nutsack off out here.” He says, standing from the bench and offering you his arm.

You stand and take Daniel’s arm, looping your hand onto his and pressing your freezing cold hand to his own. He jumps at the cold contact on his own warm skin, pushing your hand away and flashing you a middle finger with his spare hand.

You chuckle at his reaction, returning his rude hand gesture, earning another laugh from Daniel.

“(y/n), I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” Daniel says, and you roll your eyes.

“Casablanca? Really? Now who’s the film nerd?”

“Still you, you got my reference.” Daniel replies, a smug smile on his lips.

“Touché.”

#daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo x you #f1 x reader #f1 x you

[callsigndragon]

Seeing Red | Ch. 5: Used to it ✍️

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x ex-wife!Reader (Call sign: Red Queen)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: sassy red, jake being an ass, more mav and jake being father and son, mentions of dead, some ex-wife/ex-husband unresolved tension, and... Liam's reveal.

A/N: I literally wrote this in 4 hours i was REAALLY obsessed with this idea and here it is. Comments are welcomed and THERE'S AN AUTHOR NOTE AT THE END THAT EXPLAINS A BIT SOME PARTS OF THIS BUT IT'S IN THE END TO AVOID SPOILERS.

(Whoever wants to be tagged, comment down below!)

Masterlist on pinned

When you walk out of the base towards the tarmac, you see Jake talking with someone. He seems older. Both of them turn toward you, Jake attempting to flee as soon as he recognizes your presence, but the other one stops him, both of them approaching you. Once they’re close, you remember who the other man is.

"Captain Mitchell?" you ponder, covering your eyes with your hand because the sun is shining brighter than usual. 

“Red Queen! It’s been a while. Last time we worked together, you weren’t even married.” He says, Jake groaning beside him. 

“If you told me that I would get married and divorced in the span of three years, I would have said that was bullshit.” 

“How many times are you gonna mention it?” Jake protests, taking off his glasses. 

“The same amount of times I tried to call you and text you after you left the fucking divorce papers on the kitchen counter.” You challenge him, waiting for his reaction. 

“I guess they were a lot.” Maverick adds, making Jake cover his face in disbelief. “Anyway, Cyclone told me that you were doing a dogfighting exercise, so I thought I could join." 

“Mav, did he give you the green light, or are you trying to make me break some rules on my first day?” 

“Well, maybe he didn’t agree 100%. But I want to help you!” 

You’re about to protest when you feel your phone ring in your pocket. “I’m gonna take this call and go ask Cyclone. Wait for me to come back, and I’ll let you know if you can fly or not, Mav.” 

You turn around and get inside the building, answering the call. You don’t even need to check the screen to know who it is. 

“Hey pretty boy.” 

“So… you fucked up real good, buddy.” 

“Oh yeah? I didn’t notice.” He is tempted to walk away, but then he hears Red talking. 

"Hey pretty boy" 

"Pretty boy?" Jake mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Looks like she has moved on." Mav whispers, patting Jake's back. 

"No, Liam, we can't have a cat. We have a dog, and that's a lot of work already." 

Red enters the building, and Jake stays there, completely astonished. "Who the fuck is Liam?" 

"Your replacement?" He shrugs. 

"Fuck off, Mav"

And just like he did hours ago, Mav smacks Jake's head again. "I'm not the bad guy here, son. And I don't know if you're allowed to be mad. You asked for a divorce." 

"You know why I did it." 

Mav sighs, taking off his glasses. "Yeah, I know. And I told you there may have been other ways to solve the problem." 

"I couldn't find any other one. Look, I can tolerate being around her at work. But she's gonna be friends with all the team because that's how she is, just the purest human being to ever walk on earth. I'm telling you now, if I have to see her walk in the Hard Deck hand in hand with an asshole that doesn’t deserve her, I'm asking for a relocation."

"And you think you deserve her? Jake, I know better than anyone how you feel. I let Penny slip away from me many times, and I came back many more. I just—" he looks around, as if trying to find the right words. "I just want you to remember that you vowed to be together for better and for worse. And when the worst came, you didn't tell her and made a decision by yourself." 

"You think I don't know that?" He takes out his phone, showing the lock screen to Mav. "I never changed it. I couldn’t. It's a reminder of what I had and what I lost. A fleeting glimpse of the only happiness I've ever known, and an endless torment of what I lost." 

Mav scoffs. "You sound like that guy from Pride and Privilege." 

"...you mean Pride and Prejudice?" 

"THAT ONE!" 

"Really, Mav? One of the greatest books to ever be written, and you don't even know the title?" 

"Have you even read it?" The older man mocks. 

"Yes, I did." 

"Bullshit." 

"It's true, I bought it for him," Red says, walking past them. "Get in your plane, pops. We're going for a ride." 

Jake watches Red jogging towards her plane, new letters added to the side, her name and call sign. And his last name. Seresin, in big black letters. 

“Why did she keep my name?” Jake ponders.

“What?” 

“Look." He points at Red's aircraft. "Seresin. Why is she using it?” 

“I don’t think I have a good answer for that, son. Come on, I have to fly.”

It's all good until Jake's turn comes. All of them are amazing pilots, of course, they're the best of the best. You didn't expect anything different. Rooster is the fastest to take you out. Mav explains to you how, until a few years ago, he was afraid of his own potential. You can hear how proud Mav is now, as if Rooster were his own son. In a way, you know he is. 

"Hey, Red. Can I ask you a question?" Bob mutters through the comms. 

"You just did, Bob." You laugh. "Of course you can." 

"Why Red Queen as a call sign? You don't seem like the kind of girl that chops off heads."

You laugh again, turning to be closer to Phoenix's plane. You wave at Bob and he waves back with a chuckle. "It has some resemblance to the Red Queen, but not entirely. Have you heard of the Red Queen hypothesis?"

"Not really."

"According to the Red Queen hypothesis, a species needs to evolve and adapt in order to survive because its competitors are doing the same."

"Did you evolve and adapt?"

"Yep. Being an aviator wasn't in my plans." You confess, remembering the old times. 

"And what were your plans?"

"She wanted to be a lawyer." 

"I don't think they were asking you, Seresin." You retort, moving your plane to an inverted position, and flying above Jake's plane. "If I want you to talk, I'll let you know." 

"I think you're abusing your power, Commander," he mutters, looking straight into your eyes. 

"I'm just giving you as many chances to talk as you gave me, Lieutenant."

You move your plane away, the radio has become silent. "But yeah, I wanted to be a lawyer."

"What changed?" 

"My dad died in Iraq when I was a teenager. His plane crashed. He wanted to defend his country so much that he died doing it. And I took his place."

"Adapt in order to survive." Bob mutters. 

"That's it." 

“It says a lot about you, Red. Your father will be proud.” Mav comments, moving to your right. “Anyway, are we gonna play or what?” 

“Yeah, we’re in the right place already. Okay, Phoenix, Jake, you have thirty seconds to fly away from us. After that, fight’s on.” 

“Aye aye, Red”

“Yes, Commander.” 

A tiny part of you almost feels bad that Jake has to address you by rank. 

Almost. 

You wait thirty seconds. Mav immediately goes after Phoenix, and you know he’s giving you the chance to see how Jake reacts. Instead of going after Mav to ‘free’ Phoenix, he leaves his wingman alone. What the fuck does he think he’s doing? 

“Phoenix, Mav, stop right now.” 

You see both aircrafts slowing down. “Did something happen, Red?” Phoenix asks, flying back to you. 

“Lieutenant Seresin, I want you to fly back to the base right this instant and wait on the tarmac until I finish all the exercises of the day.” 

“Can I ask why, Commander?” 

“You’re not leaving your wingman alone, not under my command. If I have to be paired with you on a mission because Cyclone ordered me to carry your ass everywhere I go, you’re not gonna fucking leave me alone so you can make some maneuvers and take the glory.” 

“Red, I work better like that.” 

“First of all, it’s Commander for you. Second, you’re gonna work as I say, cause I’m in charge here, not you. Not anymore. Is that clear?” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

You whisper. “I should be used to it by now.” 

“Used to what?” he asks. 

“To you, leaving people behind. Everyone back to the base. We’re done for the day.” 

It takes all your power not to cry. The idea of being on a mission and having Jake leave you behind, just because he has the biggest ego ever known in human history, makes you shiver. Being abandoned is a feeling you don’t want to experience again. 

You spend the rest of the day in your office, working on the report Cyclone asked you to write. You don’t want to be that type of ex, but you have to write a bad review of Jake’s work. He only needed ten seconds to abandon his wingman. How has he been working here for so long? It’s a complete mystery to you. 

You’re printing it up when you hear a soft knock on your door. “Come in.” 

“Commander” 

You should look up from your work the next time someone knocks on the door. “Do you need something, Seresin?” 

“Actually, yes. I have questions.” He says, while closing the door. He takes a seat in one of the chairs in front of your desk. 

“And what makes you think you have the right to ask anything?” You question, collecting all the sheets of paper from the printer. 

“Why are you still using my name?” 

“It became mine too when you married me. Just never thought about changing it.” 

“That’s not it, Red. We both know it” 

“Whatever my reasons are, I don’t have to explain them to you.” You argue, getting up from your chair and collecting your things before exiting the office. Jake follows you, seems like he doesn’t want to end the conversation there. 

“I think I deserve an explanation. It’s my name, after all.” 

You stop in your tracks, turning around so fast that your body collides against Jake’s. You look up, all the hurt, pain, and fury accumulated over the last three years lighting a fire in your soul that must be visible to him, because he moves a step back. “Jake, it’s just a name; don’t be such a dick about it. It’s not because I still love you or whatever stupid idea you have running around in your head. It was a lot of paperwork that I didn't want to deal with. Happy? Now wait here, or do you want to enter Cyclone’s office? I heard it’s like your second home” 

You enter Cyclone's office. He told you before that he had to leave to attend to some important matters, but you could leave the report on his desk without problem. You take a moment to breathe deeply, your hands shaking with the many unsaid words that you have kept in your chest for far too long. But you know you can’t tell him what you want to. Not now. 

When you walk out of the room, he’s still there. “You’re really annoying, you know?” 

“I want my answer.” He insists. 

“Why do you care so much, Jake? You left me, you literally abandoned me and never looked back, and now you are demanding that I answer your questions? Fuck off.” 

You hurry out of the building, looking for your car keys in your bag, when you see a familiar blue car parked in front of you, a woman in her sixties helping a small kid get out of the backseat. 

No. No. No. 

“What are they doing here?” you whisper under your breath. 

“Red, wai- Charlotte?” Jake recognizes your mom in an instant. The woman in question turns around and waves at Jake with a gleeful smile. 

This has to be a fucking nightmare. You stay there, completely frozen, knowing that there’s no way in hell you’re getting out of this. You see your kid walking towards you, making grabby hands and giggling. You haven't seen him in two days, having to leave him with your mother to prepare everything in this new base, this new home... You couldn’t bring him yet. 

“Liam wait!” Your mom yells, but he doesn’t stop. He has seen someone he knows very well, but has never met in real life. Someone he has seen a lot of photos of. The man that appears in the photo frame placed on his bedside table. It’s a photo of your wedding. 

“Dada?” 

“What did he say?” Jake whispers, standing at your side as frozen as you are. 

“He called you dada.” You declare, already giving in. If this is happening, you're gonna do it right.

Liam stands in front of him, tears in his eyes, as he watches Jake. “Dada is you?” 

“I—I don’t know.” He turns at you, fear in his eyes. Oh Lord, what have you done? “Am I his dada?” 

You kneel down, taking Jake’s hand and dragging him down with you, both now at the same height as the little kid, who looks at you with a confused expression and wet cheeks. “You want to know why I never got rid of your last name? Well, Jake. Let me introduce you to Liam Alexander Seresin.” 

“Oh my god, y-you were pregnant; that’s why you-” He starts to hyperventilate. “Y-you signed the papers to protect him?”

You can’t believe this is happening. This isn’t how you planned to tell him. “Jake, calm down. I didn’t know I was pregnant, I swear, but I need you to calm down.” You don’t want him to have one of his panic attacks in front of Liam, it would scare him.

"Dada, don’t cry.” Liam pouts, his chubby hands rising to touch his father’s cheeks. 

“C-can I hug you, buddy?” 

Liam throws himself in Jake’s body, the pilot starts crying when he realizes what he had done. He didn’t just leave his wife. 

He left his wife and his unborn child. She had to raise him all alone. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeats over and over again, his head buried in his son’s hair. Liam smells like her; he’s a miniature version of her with his eyes and nose. It’s everything he once hoped to have. 

And he had missed his first steps, his first words, and his first laugh. 

Just because he thought that by divorcing her, he could save her. 

How wrong he was.

A/N: THERE HE ISSSSSSS. Yes you guessed it, Liam is Jake and Red's son. And here is the explanation you need.

Jake asked for a divorce three years ago. Like actually, is going to be almost three years in a few days (fic time). Liam is a Valentine baby. Jake asked for a divorce on May, Red didn't know she was pregnant until a few days later, when she started to feel sick. She signed the paper's almost immediately after Jake left them in their house, and gave them to her lawyer. They never saw each other again. The reasons why Red didn't tell Jake about the baby, are part of the fic so, I won't tell.

But as it has been hinted, Liam knows who his father is, Red has a picture of him placed in Liam's room, and she tells him about him whenever he wants to know about his dad. Red having Jake as her lockscreen pic? So Liam could see a pic of him every time he wanted.

Liam is now two years and a half. He has Jake's eyes and nose, but is as sassy as his mom.

More details about him will be revealed in next chapters. This is only the beginning of the journey the seresin family will be going through.

And that's all. Have a good night/day!

-Jinx.

Tag list: @purplevortexx @shrimping-for-all @caitsymichelle13 @callmemana @abaker74 @starkleila @topgunmenbefinebruh @blue-aconite @tayrae515 @alexxavicry @xoxabs88xox @mercurio23 @smells-like-perfect-senses @dempy @djs8891 @indynerdgirl @countryclubswifey @lauenderhaze @avaleineandafryingpan @poppyalice2001 @emorychase @wildxwidow @agentwayne17 @shanimallina87

#top gun x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x fem!reader #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick #hangman x reader #top gun maverick fanfic #jake seresin x reader #hangman seresin #hangman imagine #jake hangman fic #top gun imagine #jake hangman x you #jake hangman imagine #hangman x you #jake seresin #hangman top gun #tgm #hangman fluff #hangman angst #jake seresin imagine

[sgtbradfords]

can't get you off my mind

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: A quiet night on the beach thinking about nothing, everything, and all that may lie in-between. 

Warnings: fluff, slight angst 

A/N: It's been a hot minute since I’ve written a x reader but I watched Top Gun Maverick and thought it was time to brush off the cobwebs. Enjoy! :)

_______________________________________________

The sand of the beach was warm beneath your feet as you dug them into the sand, filtering the small granules between your toes. The sun had long since set over the Pacific and the tide had rolled in, moving closer and closer to where you say before the waves began to nip at the tips of your painted toenails.

Two months ago you decided you had had enough of the drama and bullshit that your small east coast town provided and had decided to move to the tiny suburb of Miramar located just outside of San Diego. 

Where you now found yourself wasn't random in the least. Your pseudo-grandfather Jimmy, who was a friend of your father's, was the long time barkeep at a bar on the beach which was run by a woman named Penny. They had both welcomed with open arms and no sooner than you walking through the doors of the bar did you have a place to stay and a place to work.

Never would you have imagined you'd work your ass off for four years to obtain a degree only to become a bartender but here you were. You shook your head, knowing you wouldn't change it for the world as for the first time in a long time, you were happy. 

"What's a girl like you doing out here on a night like this?" 

You rolled your eyes at the line that fell past the lips of the man you had become to know all too well over the past week as you brought the glass bottle in your hand up to your lips. You took a long drag before quickly pulling the bottle away as your face soured. 

"How long have I been out here?" You asked with the turn of your head to find that the man who last night you swore would be the bane of your existence, was now moving to sit down on the sand beside you. 

The sky before you was dark, save for the rogue star or two that could be seen through the light pollution that came from the city. You would have been in the dark, had it not been for the soft glow that came from the strands of fairy lights that were crisscrossed over the deck behind you.

Even in the low light you could see the brown leather jacket that concealed his signature white undershirt and probable Hawaiian shirt he wore underneath.

"An hour or two." He spoke nonchalantly as though he hadn't been watching you from the edge of the deck railing. "You're missing out on one hell of a party."

"I'm sure I am." You told him dismissively. You didn't give two shits about the party that was happening behind you. 

"This about the other night?" He asked as you watched his fingers toy with the neck of the bottle in hand before bringing it up to his lips.  

"No." You were quick to reassure him as your body turned in the sand. "I- That was nice."

'That was nice?' You mentally berated as he pulled the bottle away from his lips with an audible pop. Your skin was still a splotchy red in certain and sensitive areas from the mustache of his upper lip. 

"Nice?" He parroted and you just knew he was raising a brow. 

Your cheeks warmed as vague images of the other night came to your mind. If the bottle you'd abandoned to the sand was cold, you would have strongly considered placing it against your skin. "Like you need a boost to your already inflated ego, Roose."

Rooster chuckled, a deep and musical sound that reminded you of what that sound feels like as it reverberates against your skin. Your body shifted against the sand underneath your jeans, clenching your thighs together at the memory. "No, I don't need that."

"What’s it like?” 

The faint sound of the music in the background could be heard but it was nothing compared to the overpowering noise that came from waves in front of you. Your thoughts were errant and varied l, that much was obvious, especially for Bradley to call you out on. It wasn't because of what had transpired between you and the pilot a few nights back and every night since but rather, you were still finding it difficult to process the scuttlebutt you had been hearing over the past week.

Something big was happening, something that required the Navy to bring in their top aviators for what you had gathered to be for training purposes but the water cooler gossip had not exposed what that something may be. Though, you had your guesses. 

A questionable hum filled the air. “When you’re up there," You asked the question once again as you turned your head to find him looking out towards the horizon that never stopped. "What's it like?"

His lips pursed in thought before a breathy laugh fell past his lips as he wet them, gathering the drop of brew that had failed to make it in his mouth. “It’s… Exhilarating.” He declared quietly as his head turned to meet your gaze. You could see a million stories behind the look he was giving. 

“Exhilarating?” 

Rooster nodded once as his eyes become hooded, sending goosebumps across your skin which caused you to shiver. “You cold?”

“No, I’m-” But before you could finish your sentence, was he pulling off the brown leather jacket, draping the material over your shoulders. You fought the urge to bring the collar of the material up to your nose as the scent of what you knew to be his body wash, became more prominent. "Thanks."

He grinned and you knew there was more to Bradley Bradshaw than meets the eye. Which is why you failed to hold back a chuckle at the sight of the blue Hawaiian shirt that now hung loosely off his shoulders.

"What?" He asked with an amused yet confused tilt to his voice.

“So what’s the deal with the shirts?”

Rooster looked down. “What, you don’t like them?”

“I never said that.” You told him coyly before biting at the corner of your lip. 

Feeling bold, you began to lean your body forward, glancing at his parted lips as the distance between the two of you began to close. 

“Hey Rooster!” Fanboy yelled from behind, his voice carrying from where he stood just outside the sliding glass door behind them. “Payback wants a redo on darts.”

Rooster sighed, his eyes closing as his forehead pressed against your own, the warmth of his breath falling against your lips. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok.” You whispered, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips before pulling away. “Just promise you’ll make it up to me?” You proposed with a grin as you pushed your feet further into the sand, making the motion to stand. 

You turned your body, pulling the jacket tighter around your shoulders to find his brown eyes staring directly into yours]. You couldn’t hold back your grin as the corners of you lips turned upwards with the extension of your hand, silently offering him some assistance to which he readily accepted. 

“I think I can manage that.” He quietly agreed, weaving your fingers together as you both made your way back towards the bar. 

Using some form of wordless yet mutual understanding, the two of you continued to ignore the ‘What Ifs’ that lingered overhead. 

“Rooster!” Fanboy yelled once more as the two of you strolled closer. “You coming?”

“Why don’t you go get your eyes checked Garcia!” He yelled back as you sighed, moving your body closer to Roosters which allowed you to rest your head on his shoulder.

“Jackass…” Rooster mumbled under his breath, causing you to chuckle as his lips pressed a kiss to the crown of your head. 

“Be nice.”

“I am nice.” He defended with an outcry as you grunted in return. “Sometimes.”

The stride the two of you possessed slowed as you neared the bottom of the steps, your body turning to face his while your hand softly landed against his chest. 

“Bradley.” You stated as he raised a brow at the use of his first name. But the action was short lived as you fisted the white shirt in hand, bringing his mouth closer towards yours, your lips feathering against his but never pressing against his, leaving something to be desired. “Go kick some ass.”

Quickly you pressed a kiss to his lips before releasing the material in hand to turn on your heel, making your way up the steps with an extra sashay to your hips. You reached the top of the steps only to find Rooster still standing at the bottom with a bewildered look upon his face.

He shook his head to clear his thoughts before making his way to join you at the top.

You were going to be the death of him. If the assignment didn’t do it first. 

#rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #fanfic