#hangman junior universe

[justabigassnerd]

Bullying

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 2,081

Warnings - bullying, injuries, passing out, worried Jake & Bradley, angst, fluff, swearing

Summary - your bullies start to get physically aggressive with you, leading you to hide your injuries from your dads. but secrets never stay secret for too long...

A/N - hey y'all I be here with a new part of Hangman Junior for you all to enjoy! this was a request sent in by @honkyhonkyyessir and I just hope I did the idea justice! I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

You thought that after the events of fighting back against the people who insulted your dads, you’d be able to get through the rest of your school life unbothered.

How wrong you were.

Apparently, fighting back might as well have slapped a big target on your back with flashing lights, demanding to be aimed at. You couldn’t remember when the insults became acts of physical violence, but it soon became your new normal to hide injuries you sustained from your dad and Bradley.

One day, as soon as you finished your lunch in the large school dining hall, you ducked into the nearest bathroom to inspect the injuries you knew were forming under your shirt.

“Of fucking course.” You whisper through gritted teeth as you stand in front of a mirror, lifting the bottom of your shirt and seeing the beginning of a bruise forming on your side from where one jock decided it would be funny to launch his football at you as hard as possible while you made your way towards the school building.

You sigh as you inspect the bruise further, gingerly poking at it to explore the pain level and wincing at the tenderness. You knew you had every right to fight back. To show them that a Seresin couldn’t be pushed around that easily. But you couldn’t find it within yourself to risk getting into trouble at school. After the fight you had about people insulting your dads, Jake had made you promise not to get into any more fights. He and Bradley both understood where you were coming from, but they didn’t want you getting into trouble or getting hurt. So you respected their wishes and didn’t fight back, although you longed to. It got harder with each passing day as the guys got bolder in their bullying. You were grateful though, that you got home from school before your dad and Bradley which meant you had time to take some painkillers that would kick in by the time you had walked Moose and your dads had gotten home.

On this particular day though, the boys that picked on you were much more aggressive than usual. Tripping you in the hallway, bumping you into lockers, whatever they could get away with, they were doing. When the school day had ended you planned on slipping out as quickly and as quietly as possible but of course, things never went the way you wanted them to. You were spotted moments after exiting the building by the jocks who always mingled outside before their practice began.

“Hey Seresin!” You barely had the time to register the words that were yelled over to you before you felt something make harsh contact with the side of your head, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the ground, not having nearly enough time to break your fall meaning your head made strong contact with the concrete floor.

Dazed from the contact between your head and the concrete you remained on the floor for a moment, trying to pull yourself together enough to get up and make your way home so you can hide and lick your wounds over the weekend until it all starts up again on Monday. Just as you decided to move, one of the jocks crossed to you and landed a strong kick to your stomach, making you curl into yourself, a groan of pain escaping you as the group of boys jeer loudly. Through your blurry vision, you could make out students walking past, not even sparing you a glance as they rushed past, hoping your tormenters wouldn’t suddenly turn on them. Often, you wished people would just step in and help, or just make sure you were okay. But you knew they just wanted to protect themselves above everything. And all the teachers were still inside the building finishing up any work or prepping to leave themselves, so you had no hope of a teacher coming to your aid either.

Before anything else could be done, one of the boys noticed the time and they all rushed off to go to their football practice. A minute after they left you slowly sat up, coughing and wincing, desperately trying to blink the blurriness from your vision. You eased your bag back onto your back and bit back a wince as you forced yourself to your feet. Your vision was swimming, and your head was throbbing. You knew that once you got home you should take Moose out for a walk but with your head in so much pain you were sure he could forgive you if you just wanted to curl up on your bed with him and nap the headache off before your dad and Bradley got home.

You made your way home, head throbbing and convinced you probably looked drunk to anybody seeing you pass due to your inability to walk in a straight line. Thankfully, you made it home with little to no problems until you reached your front door, which due to the blurriness in your vision, took four attempts to get the key into the keyhole to unlock the door. When you enter the house, Moose is instantly by your side, tail wagging as he barks in greeting, making your head feel like it’s going to explode.

“Moose, buddy quiet down.” You plead the dog, grateful he listened to your request and sat himself down opposite you, panting happily as his tail swished side to side.

“Hey y/n/n!” You almost jumped when you heard your dad’s voice come from the living room. You were still hidden from his line of sight so you took the opportunity to lean against the wall, hoping your vision would focus.

“Hey dad, you’re home early.” You try to joke, glancing down when you feel Moose prodding at your upper thigh with his nose. If your vision wasn’t blurry, you would’ve seen the worried look in your pet’s eyes as he continued to poke at you, trying to communicate his wishes.

“We both finished up our paperwork early so we got out of there before Cyclone could give us anything else.” You hear Bradley chuckle as you squeeze your eyes shut, silently begging your head to fix itself before you get found out. You heard the sounds of footsteps approaching the hallway and you opened your eyes to see your dad and Bradley poking their heads around the corner, faces falling when they notice how positively miserable you look.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Jake asks, eyebrow raised as you nod.

“Yeah, just got a little headache.” You lie, your vision growing darker from the nodding motion and before anyone else could say anything. Your legs stopped supporting your weight as you gave in to the inviting darkness.

Jake was quick to catch you before you hit the floor, looking up at Bradley desperately as both men panicked.

“y/n, sweetheart, can you hear me?” Jake says, turning his attention back to you, watching carefully for any response and feeling his heartbeat grow louder in his ears when you don’t respond.

“Let’s get her up to her room. We can monitor her here and when she wakes up, we can figure out whether to take her to hospital or not.” Bradley says, ever the level-headed one, as Jake nods, carefully getting to his feet as he keeps you securely in his arms, taking you up to your room and laying you on your bed. Moose jumped up on the bed just as Jake took a step back, having snuck in unnoticed.

“Moose, you should get down.” Bradley starts, stopping himself from saying anything else when Moose eases himself down alongside you, resting his head on your lap and whining softly, clearly worried about you as his eyes dart from Jake to you in the hopes Jake can fix what’s wrong with you.

“She’ll wake up soon, bud. She’ll be okay.” Jake promises the dog as he eases himself down on the desk chair to wait for you to wake up. Bradley crosses to Jake, takes Jake’s hand in his and squeezes softly, both men hoping it won’t be too long before you wake up.

You woke up just under five minutes later, eyes blinking open and being silently relieved that your vision was no longer blurry or swimming.

“y/n? Are you okay?” You glance over to see your dad leaping up from the chair, crossing to your bedside as Moose perks up at your side, lifting his head as his tail begins to thump against the duvet.

“I’m okay. I’m sorry if I scared you.” You mutter, glancing at both Jake and Bradley before trying to sit up, being stopped by a gentle hand on your shoulder from Bradley who shakes his head softly, encouraging you to stay put as Moose stretches up the bed, resting his head right where the bruise on your side was and neither Jake nor Bradley missed the slight wince you gave from the contact.

“y/n, sweetheart. I’d like the truth, please. What’s going on?” Jake asks softly, perching on the edge of your bed and looking at you, his worry evident all over his face. You reached out to stroke Moose, fingers tangling in his fur as Moose tentatively licks your arm. Comforted by your dog curled up next to you and the gentle expressions of both Jake and Bradley, you opened up. You told them about the bullying, about how the boys on the football team found enjoyment in treating you like shit. By the end of the explanation, both Jake and Bradley were furious, unable to believe that they were getting away with this.

“Those little shits better hope I never see them because I hate to think of what I’d do to them if I did.” Jake seethes, teeth gritted as he fights the urge not to run out of the house in search of them right now.

“Jake, the sentiment is appreciated but let’s not picture assaulting minors, as tempting as it is, it’s not the solution.” Bradley says, a hand braced on Jake’s shoulder just in case he tries to leap up and leave the house.

“We have to do something, Bradley. They’re hurting her.” Jake says, looking up at his husband who lets out a soft sigh, understanding why Jake wanted to fix this.

“And we’ll figure out a solution over the next couple of days. For now let’s let y/n rest, give her some painkillers, and let her relax. She’s okay.” Bradley says softly, watching as Jake lets out a soft exhale, feeling Jake’s body relax with the exhale and lifting his hand from his shoulder. Bradley excuses himself to grab some painkillers, leaving you and Jake alone in the room.

“I’m sorry for hiding it from you.” You mumble, briefly glancing over at your dad before looking back at your lap, ashamed of yourself for hiding this from him.

“You don’t have to be afraid to tell me about stuff like this. I can do my best to help you no matter the problem. That’s my job.” Jake says, his voice never straying from that soft tone you had grown so accustomed to growing up.

“I know. I just don’t want to worry you.” You admit, glancing at Moose who is watching you quietly.

“I always worry about you, sweetheart. That’s also part of my job as your father.” Jake says with a gentle chuckle, bringing a smile to your face as well.

“If you’re ever out and you need help. Call me or Bradley and we’ll get to you as quick as we can, okay?” Jake then says, looking at you as you nod lightly.

“Okay.” You confirm just as Bradley enters the room, painkillers, and a glass of water in hand. He hands you the items and you take the painkillers with a swig of water and relax back against your pillow after placing the glass on your bedside table. The two men then left you alone to rest, leaving you in the dutiful care of Moose who was more than happy to curl further into you and watch over you. As you set your laptop alongside you, opening a movie to watch you thought back on the threat that your dad had made towards the jocks that bullied you and laughed lightly.

You knew that if he ever did see those boys Bradley would have to hold him back.

taglist (comment or ask to be tagged):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7 @starkleila @cassadilasworld @shanimallina87 @madstxo @chaoticassidy @padsdarlg @lauraseresin @alohastitch0626 @angelbabyange @kmc1989

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #hangman junior #hangman junior universe #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x daughter!reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x daughter!reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x daughter!reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x rooster #jake seresin x bradley bradshaw

[seresinhangmanjake]

That's Definitely a Name

dad!Jake "Hangman" Seresin x reader

Summary: You need to name your newborn son and your daughter helps.

Notes/warnings: this is inspired by an ask about the moments after their son's birth. I wanted to do it with Oh, Baby, too, so I am doing Oh, Baby first, and then Signed Away. Mention of pregnancy, birth, that's it I think.

Words: 835

Part of the Oh, Baby Universe

-

"He looks like you."

You snort, but it's weak from your exhaustion. "Well it's only fair," you say. "Eve is nearly your clone."

"That's true." Jake chuckles before he presses a kiss to your temple. It’s a long kiss, and soft, and conveys once more what was earlier expressed with words: “I love you, Honey. You’re so amazing. How did you just do this? How have you done this twice?

That last question has also crossed your mind in the twenty minutes since birthing your son. Twice. You’ve done this twice. But this time, your brain isn’t full of a humming fuzziness in the aftermath as it was with Eve. You’re so alert and aware of your daughter waiting outside the room with her grandmother, of Jake wrapped around you, of your new son swaddled in your arms. 

“What do you think we should name this little man?” Jake asks. “We never settled on one.”

During the months of your pregnancy, you’d shuffled through many names for your son, but none of them seemed to fit quite right. For Eve, it was a no-brainer. Without Jake in her life, it was important to you that her name connect to her father in some way, which was achieved by choosing the name of his grandmother. For your son, though, there isn’t someone you can positively name him after without some degree of resulting issue. After your mother’s fit over Jake a few years ago, your father didn’t make the effort to stay involved in your life, and Jake’s is horrid, so they were never added to the list of possibilities. Jake feels that making the little boy a junior will be too confusing, unable to let go of the image of you irritated for some reason and calling out the matching name causing unnecessary anxiety for both he and his son when you are actually only mad at one of them. You tossed around the idea of using a name from your group of friends, but you quickly realized that of the five other men on Jake’s team, four of them would take serious offense if their name wasn’t chosen while the other one would be so sweet as to simply thank you and your husband for even being considered. They didn’t last on the list for more than a day.

“We weren’t given enough time,” you decide as you trace your finger down the line of his tiny nose. “He came too early.”

“I don't think one week before your due date qualifies as too early,” Jake says, snickering. “Let's be real, Honey, we were slacking from indecisiveness.”

“Well, since we can’t figure it out maybe we should just let Eve pick a name.”

You immediately miss the warmth of his arms when Jake pulls back and shifts to the side of the bed to look you in the eye. “Now wait a minute, Honey. Think about what you're saying.” His eyes are wide and his hands gesture wildly with his attempt to snuff out your idea. “I love you and I love our baby girl, but do you really want to risk our son being named something crazy like, I don't know, Meeko? You know she loves that weird raccoon from ‘Pocahontas’,” he says. “And what happens when we don’t take her suggestion because we cannot do that to our son, hmm? This is not a particularly good time for us to be snubbed by our daughter.”

You release a light scoff. “Oh, she wouldn't do that to us, or her brother.”

“She absolutely would,” Jake says with a slight quirk of his lips. His hands fall back to his sides. “Honey, if we truly let her pick, ninety-nine percent chance we have a Disney critter sidekick name for our son.”

You look down at your newborn as you consider Jake’s concern. Meeko Seresin? You internally chuckle. No, that would not do. But your girl is smart and neither you nor Jake have been able to come to a decision on your own. You see no real harm in asking. Not to mention, it would be a prime opportunity to have Eve feel more included now that she’s no longer the only child in her parent’s lives. And if her suggestions are life-ruining bully-targeting disasters, then you’ll deal with her reaction from being denied later. 

—

“Teddy Bear!” Eve bursts out as she sits tucked between you and the rail of the hospital bed.

A sigh mixed with a barely-there chuckle falls from your husband’s lips.

“Baby girl, you want to name your brother Teddy Bear?” Jake asks, glancing at the amused smile you’re struggling to hold back before returning his eyes to his daughter. 

Taking the question very seriously, Eve’s face loses all expression, her stare unwavering against her father’s. “Yes.”

“After your teddy bear?”

“Yes.”

Jake runs a hand through his blond locks. The other rests on his hip. “Wouldn't you like to think about it for another second?”

“No.”

—

Teddy “Bear” Jacob Seresin

(More Bear and Eve) Digital Daggers: Oh, Babies by @mamachasesmayhem

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @novagreen04 @multifandomlover4life @memeorydotcom @ryiamarie @ateliefloresdaprimavera

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #jake seresin fic #top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #top gun hangman #jake hangman seresin x y/n #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin x fem!reader #dad!jake seresin #dad!jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #tgm #tgm fic

[mothdruid]

The Guy Next Door

pairing: college neighbor jake ‘hangman’ seresin x afab!reader

summary: year after year he was there. the universe had to have something against you, leaving the man that pissed you off at your every turn. one night you decide to confront him, again, only for it to end with a confession you weren't expecting.

wc: 3.9k

warnings: 18+, smut, minors dni, vaginal sex, oral sex (f to m), vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names (doll), dirty talk, hate sex turned soft???

a/n: college neighbor jake is finally here!!! sorry it took forever for me to write this.

It all started your freshman year of college. Life was great. You were finally on your own, able to explore whatever you wanted. Everything was going fine until you arrived at your English course. That was when you met him. 

Jake Seresin. 

Everyone had been infatuated with him from day one, except you. He would flash his smile and everyone would giggle, teachers included. All you could do was roll your eyes and focus on your assignments. But it all got worse when you two were paired up for a peer review. All you had to do was make it through the semester, then he would be gone. 

Wrong. 

When you arrived at your sociology class the next semester, he was there. The man with the ego the size of Jupiter. But alas here he was. You tried to keep your distance, but he didn’t seem to care. He sat directly next to you, smiling wildly as you rolled your eyes. 

“What do you want?” 

“What? Don’t want some familiar company?” 

A group project was assigned to you two. All you wanted to do was murder him. His snide comments, barely helping with the work, and everything else he did. You thought about informing the teacher, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Then the semester ended. 

The summer rolled by quickly, visiting family back home. Before you knew it you were moving into your new apartment. It was one that was one campus. The apartments were just finished last year. You saw many people carrying boxes into them, including a familiar face. All you could hope for was that his apartment wouldn’t be near yours. 

Wrong again. He was your next door neighbor. And not only was he your next door neighbor as a sophomore and junior. You prayed that for your senior year he wouldn’t be your neighbor. Hell, you’d even be okay with him being two doors down. Just not your next door neighbor. But the world must have been laughing at you. 

Your senior year when you showed up to your apartment, boxes in tow, you immediately recognized the Dallas Cowboys doormat. A rage boiled inside of you, frustrated at your luck through the years. Four years of being stuck with one of the most annoying, pompous, egotistical asshats for four years. The only thing you were thankful for was that you had different majors, meaning you only had to see him in passing. 

“Hey doll, did you miss me?” 

“In your dreams, Jake.”

He just got under your skin. Every loud game night he had with Bradley and Javy. The occasional chick you could hear. Sometimes you wondered if he actually made those girls feel good, or if he was just paying them to be loud. You had confronted him about it in the past, on multiple occasions. At first you had tried being nice about it, but he made it hard. That charming smile and gorgeous emerald green eyes made you want to punch him. And tonight, you weren’t going to let it slide. It was one of the only nights you had for yourself. 

You didn’t work that day and had finished your homework earlier in the week. You were planning on curling up on the couch, getting wine drunk while Brooklyn 99 played in the background. You might have been two glasses of wine in, but there was no denying it. You heard cheering through the walls. You quickly did a google for NFL games and saw that the Cowboys were in fact playing. They were in the fourth quarter, up by a touchdown with a minute and a half left. So, you waited. 

It had been thirty-minutes since the game ended. You slipped on your slippers, then replaced your loose t-shirt with a baggy zip up hoodie. You weren’t trying to be presentable, you were trying to look like an irritated neighbor. You slipped out of your apartment, locking it behind you before heading to his door. You stood on the Cowboys doormat, knocking then crossing your arms. 

It was a few moments until the door swung open, being greeted by a devilish smile that made your eyes roll. He leaned against the door frame,hands attached to the top of the frame as he leaned towards you. His eyes raked over you, taking in your messy yet comfortable attire. You heard a bit of shuffling behind him, not paying it any attention. You wished looks could kill, had for a long time because if they did, Jake wouldn’t be in your life. 

“Did you have a nightmare?” Jake asked with a playful smirk. 

“Haha, funny.” Your nose crinkled at his comment. He was truly the worst. 

“If you want me to tuck you back in, I will. I just have some company over.” 

“Jake, we need to have a talk. Again.” Jake looked back over his shoulder, presumably to Bradley and Javy. You knew it was the two of them, Jake didn’t watch football with anyone else. 

You heard some more rustling before the two of them finally came into view. Jake leaned towards the side of the door, crossing his arms as his friends left. Javy awkwardly waved at you as he scooted past you. Bradley gave you and Jake both a nod, moving past the two of you and following Javy down the hallway. After the two of them were out of sight you turned back to Jake. He had one arm propped up against the door frame, the other hand grabbing the door. 

“And to what do I owe the honor?” Jake asked, biting his bottom lip and looking at you. 

“You know why.” You let out a huff, crossing your arms across your chest. 

“If I did, would I be asking?” Jake quipped back. You glared at him, irritation starting to boil under your skin. “Shouldn’t make that face doll, it doesn’t look good.” 

“Jake, it’s the same thing every time.” He tilted his head against the door frame, a twinkle in his eye. He stood up straight, arm on the door frame and hand still on the door. He leaned towards you with a playful look. 

“Is it? ‘Cause I’m starting to think you just want to come over to see me.” Everything inside of you wanted to wipe the floor with his shit eating grin. 

“Why the fuck, would I ever want to see you?” Something was boiling deep inside of you now. Something you couldn’t pinpoint exactly. 

Jake watched as your eyes went wide, nostrils flaring in irritation. It filled his heart with joy. He had been admiring you for years, trying to crack that little shell of yours. But your shell stayed as sturdy as steel, never breaking or cracking. That’s when he made it his mission to at least rile you up. Any amount of attention you would give him, he feasted on. Yearning for more. More side eyes, more glares, more harsh words, more ego crushing sentiments. 

“Because I’m handsome, sexy, charming, funny, and a lot of other things.” 

“More like annoying, loud, obnoxious, vexing, and so many unflattering things.” 

The two of you stood there, staring at one another. His emerald eyes raked down over your body, flicking back up to your eyes. This was the first time you were able to take in his attire. Grey joggers, that fit him a little too well, and a black t-shirt, that also fit a little too well. He crossed his arms over his chest, biceps flexing against the material of the sleeves. His chest seemed a little bit bigger now too, almost like he was flexing his pecs. 

It wasn’t that Jake wasn’t attractive, because he was. Way more attractive than any person you had ever dated. Honestly, more attractive than any other man you had seen on campus. It’s like he had been made in a laboratory, or even carved by Greek statue makers. He was who every little girl dreamed of marrying when they got older. He looked like a fucking ken doll. But his personality, it was grating. 

“Jake, I just wan-”

Without warning, his lips were pressed against yours. His hands moved to your hips, pushing the hoodie you wore up, exposing some skin. His touch was searing against your skin, fueling the irritation already festering inside of you. You kissed him back though, pressing your body flush to his. You needed him to feel your irritation, and if this was the way, then so be it. He guided the both of you back into his apartment, swiping the door shut before pressing you up against it. 

His fingers traced the top of your bike shorts, pulling your hips flush against his own. You could feel his cock already getting hard in his joggers. His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, asking for silent entry. You let his tongue slip into your mouth, working over every inch of your mouth. He was dominating, body covering yours as his tongue took control of your mouth. The irritation was still bubbling deep inside of you, but it wasn’t telling you to stop. One of his legs slotted between yours, applying the right amount of pressure against your now weeping cunt. 

“Fuck!” You pulled back from his mouth, letting out a whimper. 

“That’s it baby, go on and say my name.” Jake chuckled, moving down to mouth at your throat and shoulder. His tongue felt like lava on your skin, searing everything it touched. “I know you want to.”

“In your dreams.” You muttered, arms wrapping around his shoulders. 

“Trust me doll, it’s already in them.” Your cunt clenched at the implications of his words. The thought of him thinking about you in this manner, it was sinful. 

A moan rippled through you when he pressed his thigh against the apex of your thighs. Your hips stuttered, giving into the delicious pleasure he was giving you. The thin material of your bike shorts was the only thing separating the two of you. You had decided not to wear panties after your shower earlier. You silently thanked yourself while rocking back and forth on his thigh. Your wetness was most likely soaking your bike shorts, creating a wet spot on your shorts and his joggers. 

“You seem a little eager, doll.” He teased, feeling the faint sensation of your wetness soaking his pants. 

“Eager for you to shut up.” You quipped back, wanting him to stop. It was embarrassing but you couldn’t seem to stop yourself. You wanted more of him, but you wanted him to shut his mouth and drop the fucking smirk. 

“Want me to put my mouth to work? All you gotta do is ask.” Jake dipped his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder. His tongue darted out to lap at your skin, pressing his thigh tighter against your clothed cunt. 

A moan ripped through your throat while you rocked your hips against his thigh. One of Jake’s hands moved up from your waist, tugging the collar of your sweatshirt to the side. Searing kisses trailed down to your collarbone and shoulder. Another moan erupted from you when you felt his teeth drag over your skin, nipping lightly. 

You didn’t want to beg. A heat filled you when you thought about begging him to give you more. You had to maintain some form of dignity. This isn't even what you had come over for. But god, were you enjoying it. It just wasn’t enough. You need more. More kisses, more dirty talk, more touching, more of his fucking texan accent. With reluctance, you swallowed your pride only to be interrupted. 

“If you want me to stop, I’ll stop.” Jake was still tucked into the crook. Hot breath coated your skin, him stopping his actions. 

Without a second thought, you laced your fingers into his hair, tugging him back to look at you. A small groan left him when you tugged the golden locks. His emerald eyes watched you, taking in your lust blown eyes. He couldn’t believe you were finally looking at him like that. You looked almost feral, like an animal during mating season.

“I will move out if you don’t fuck me.” That ticked something off in Jake. 

He was on you like a wild animal. His lips crashed against yours, dominating the kiss immediately. He removed his thigh from between your legs, quickly slipping his hand down your shorts. Fingers slipped between your folds swiftly, immediately finding your clit. The tightness in your abdomen was suddenly immense, almost on the edge already. 

“This wet already? Do I always get you like this?” Jake teased, fingers rubbing tight circles on you. 

“There’s a first time for everything.” A snarky smile covered your lips, nearly matching his own. 

Jake watched as your head fell back against his door, exposing your neck once more. It took everything in him not to latch on, your skin taunting him. He wanted to watch you, see what you looked like as you came all over his hand. He had only seen it in his imagination, dreams sometimes escalating the idea. The way your mouth would fall open, whines and moans pouring from it, all while your hips would buck against his hand. God, he needed it badly. 

“I hope it’s not the only time.” He adjusted to press his clothed crotch against your hip, rutting desperately. 

“Don’t push it, Jake.” You bit back. 

The tightness in your abdomen was almost painful. A part of you was embarrassed at the situation. No one had ever pushed you this close so fast. Let alone it be by someone you could barely stand. Your orgasm was threatening to take over at any moment. A small part of you was holding it back, not wanting to fully give in to Jake. 

He slipped his left arm around your waist, pulling you snug against him. The pressure of your hip was delightful on his cock. Every sound that came from you had his cocking twitching. He wondered if you were able to feel each twitch, able to tell how needy he actually was for you. 

“Fuck.” Jake barely picked up on the cuss, your whines almost hiding it completely. Your left hand reached for his right bicep, clutching it as your other hand fisted his black t-shirt. Jake didn’t say anything, just watched as the band in your abdomen snapped. 

Your mouth fell agape, whines and moans pouring from it. It felt like your legs were going to give out, quivering as his fingers kept rubbing your clit. Waves of pleasure rocked through you, your body trying to curl in from the sensation. You couldn’t help but rest your face on Jake’s chest, breathing in his scent. 

“Who would have thought, someone so angry could look so hot when they came.” Jake whispered in your ear, removing his hand from your shorts. You shot him a glare, still leaning against him. 

“You thought that was hot, wait until I use you for all you’re worth.” You whispered in a harsh tone. Jake raised an eyebrow, not expecting that answer. He didn’t mean to challenge you, but that was exactly what he did. “You’re gonna sit there while I ride you, and listen to me for once.”

All Jake could do was nod, a devilish smirk on his face. He led you over to the couch, hands settling on your hips as he kissed you more. Fingers crept along the band of your bike shorts, dipping below the material to guide them down. You helped shimmy out of them, the item falling to the floor. Jake grabbed your now bare ass, kneading your flesh while pulling you closer to him. Jake groaned when he felt you start to paw at the waistband of his joggers. 

“Tell me, doll. Tell me you want me, want my cock.” Jake teased, a smirk forming on his lips. 

You looked at him, inching his boxers and joggers over the swell of his ass. You refused to tell him you wanted him, even though a part of you was now begging to give in. His eyes were trained on you as you slowly moved down. You moved down to your knees as you pulled his clothing off, kneeling in front of him. You broke eye contact with him, finally looking at his cock. 

“Fuck.” You whispered.

His cock was just as beautiful as him. The head was red and angry, begging for attention. You took him in your hand, stroking lightly. He twitched in your hand, silently begging. You looked up, locking with his emerald eyes. His chest was moving heavier while watching you stroke him. He went to speak, only for you to lick the head of his cock. The tip of your tongue gathered his precum, running it over your upper lip. 

“You look so good like this.” Jake said, groaning when you took the head of his cock in your mouth. 

The skin felt like silk on your tongue. The smooth sensation was intoxicating, driving you to bob your head a little faster. Your tongue worked along the underneath of his cock, tracing a slightly prominent vein. His hand came down to the back of your head, resting there. You kept taking him deeper and deeper, your nose eventually touching the neatly trimmed curls at the base of his cock. Your hand came up, lightly massaging his balls as you deepthroated him. 

“Fuck, doll,” Jake brought his hand around to your jaw, “it’s like your mouth was made for my cock.” 

You pulled back a little, keeping a majority of him still in your mouth. You just needed a little bit of space to breath before taking him all the way back down. He started stroking the hinge of your jaw. His fingers followed your jaw, coming up to tracing your lips. Your eyes had started to water by now. Jake grabbed your hair, pulling you off of him. 

“Ride me. Now.” 

Jake sat down on the couch behind him, hand loosening from your hair. You climbed up into his lap, pressing down against his cock. His hands gripped your hips as you rocked back and forth on him, your wetness mixing with the saliva still coating his cock. The head of his cock slipped past your folds, rubbing your clit. You shuddered at the sensation, letting your head fall back as shock waves of pleasure ran through you. 

A part of you was eager for this, irritation melting into excitement. Your body had started to give into the pleasure, focusing now on just getting stretched open by him. One of your hands rested on his clothed chest, the other reaching behind you for his cock. You lined him up with your entrance, pausing before sinking down. 

Moans left the both of you as you slowly sank down his cock. His hands tightened on your hips, your hoodie covering his hands from view. The stretch was satisfying, finally whipping away all of your irritation from your mind. You could feel him twitch inside of you, a moan slipping from you. Both of your hands gathered on Jake’s clothed chest. You cursed that he wasn’t fully undressed, craving the feeling of his skin on your hands. Jake leaned forward, kissing at your jawline. 

“Take your time, doll. I can be a lot.” His words ticked something inside of you. 

“Are you challenging me?” You lifted your hips abruptly and slammed back down onto him. 

Jake groaned, grabbing your hips roughly. He glared at you, not answering you. You set a rough pace, bouncing on him rapidly. The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, moans and groans mixing with them. You fisted your hands into his shirt, using his chest to balance yourself. A burning sensation had started to take over in your thighs. 

Jake threw his head back, groaning while you bounced on him. It was better than he could have ever imagined. Your warmth was enveloping him, pushing him closer to his peak. Jake looked up at you, watching your focused face as you rode him. A part of him wondered if you were even enjoying it, or only accepting the “challenge”. He grabbed your hips roughly, stilling your movements. His thumbs circled on your hips softly. 

“Use me.” Jake said, locking eyes with you. 

Your eyes widened at his words. A small amount of embarrassment was starting to set in. You hadn’t realized that you weren’t fully enjoying yourself. But Jake did. This guy who pissed you off to no end, he noticed you weren’t fully enjoying yourself. You nodded. 

You started your pace again, slower this time. You rocked and rolled your hips against his, eliciting moans from the both of you. Jake’s hands on your hips helped guide you, slowly rolling your hips. The burning in your thighs was becoming tiring, something Jake was picking up on. He leaned up against you, lips almost on your earlobe. 

“Lean on me, let me take care of you.” 

You nodded, pressing your chest against his. His hands wrapped around to grab your ass, lifting you up while spreading your ass. He started to thrust up into you. The change of angles had the head of his cock hitting the sensitive part inside of you. You fisted his shirt again, moaning into the fabric. He was pounding into that spot, quickly pushing you to your climax. 

“Fuck, Jake!” You gave in when you came, moaning his name loudly. 

Pleasure washed over you, making your brain short circuit. No man had ever got you to come twice, or even once, and you never would have expected it to be Jake of all people. He kept fucking into you, letting you ride out your high. Whines poured from you, your body becoming too sensitive from all the pleasure. With only a few more thrusts, Jake pulled out and unloaded all over your ass. 

The two of you sat there, catching your breath. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart pound. Jake rested his head back against the couch, one hand trailing up your back underneath your hoodie. You heard a soft huff when his hand got to your upper back. 

“What?” 

“Of course you aren’t wearing a bra.” Jake said, earning an eye roll from you. 

“I wasn’t planning on being ‘invited’ in.” You responded. 

“You’re more than welcome to stay.” Jake started absentmindedly rubbing circles on your back. 

You were shocked at the offer. 

“Jake, I-”

“I’ve always liked you.” You sat up, looking down at him with wide eyes. A heat started to sear in your cheeks.

“You what?” 

“Ever since freshman year English.” Jake confessed. It was now or never in his mind. 

“But,” you shook your head, “why the fuck did you act like this? All these years of annoyance?” 

“How else was I supposed to get your attention? You never gave me the time of day.” Jake said. 

He wasn’t wrong. Right off the bat you wrote him off, not wanting anything to do with him. It wasn’t really anything to do with him, more the persona that he carried. You wrapped your arms around yourself, leaning back into him. A part of you was embarrassed about how you had acted over the years, never giving him even a chance.

“I don’t know, but this wasn’t the way.” 

“I mean, I got you in the end.” Jake chuckled, hand moving under your hoodie again. 

“I wouldn’t say you have me. Take me on a proper date then we can talk.” 

“Anything for you, doll.”

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x fem!reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin fanfic #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin imagine #hangman smut #hangman fic

[justfandomwritings]

This Moment (Hangman)

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader (Addie)

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: idk pining? cute shit? a final line that will leave you screaming at your computer in a good way?

Summary: She was his everything, his life, his love, his reason. And one night, on a deserted Texas highway she asked him if he would be there for her too.

Notes: You do not need to have read anything else for this story to make sense. But this story is part of the Only Thing Universe and is a prequel to the original series set during Addie and Jake's time in college so picture college-age Jake and Addie.

This prequel will be two parts, the second part will be smutty... very very smutty.

This is my magnum opus. If this isn't a hit I'm retiring from fanfiction forever cause I've fully peaked.

The Only Thing Masterlist

“Jake,” Addie broke the silence, “Can I ask you something personal?”

Jake raised an eyebrow but didn’t open his eyes. “You know you can ask me anything, Addie.”

They were both lying down perpendicular to each other in the back of his old pickup truck. Jake was using Addie’s thighs as a pillow, and despite the unseasonable chill in the night air Jake had sacrificed his jacket to go under Addie’s head.

They’d driven way out into the middle of nowhere and pulled off the road on an otherwise deserted highway to look up at the stars. 

They’d been parked there for over an hour, and still no one else had driven by. It was the night of the biggest football game of the season, so everyone else in Texas was huddled up in their homes around their televisions anxiously awaiting touchdowns and field goals, but Addie hadn’t been in the mood. 

Jake and Addie were regulars at his friend Stephen’s game day parties. The parties were absolute ragers no matter who Texas was playing. In the world of game day parties, an invite to Stephen’s was an invite to the Oscars, and Jake and Addie were practically voting members of the Academy. They didn’t even get invited anymore; it was a foregone conclusion they would be there. Neither had missed a game all season. 

Normally they carpooled to Stephen’s house so one of them could drink, but when Addie had called and said she would have to follow behind later and meet Jake there, he immediately knew something was wrong. It was in her tone, practically dripping with melancholy. 

And when she pulled up, he was standing in the driveway, already ready to leave before the game even began. Jake liked college football as much as the next man from Texas, which was a lot, but he liked Addie more. He’d immediately pulled her out of her car and helped her into his passenger seat and taken off. 

They hadn’t exchanged words, and she hadn’t protested. She would talk when she was ready, and he would never pressure her. Instead, he turned the game on the radio and drove straight out of town for the entire first half until the city lights were a distant memory. 

Even while they lay in the back, the windows of the truck were rolled down, and the radio inside was blasting the game’s broadcast on the university radio station loud enough for him to hear. 

It kept the moment just on the right side of silence. Not too awkward, not too quiet, not too tense. A drone of noise to keep her sane and keep his mind off of whatever she was trying to muster herself up to asking him. 

Addie swallowed hard around a lump forming in her throat. “Marie Leonard?”

Jake’s eyes opened. He hadn’t heard that name since junior year of high school. “What about Marie?” 

“How did you know you wanted… that you wanted her to be… you know… your first?”

Jake shrugged, as much as he could shrug lying down in a truck bed. It was enough to get the message across when his shoulders bumped into Addie’s legs.

In all honesty, he wasn’t sure he had an answer for her. He hadn’t thought about Marie since maybe a couple weeks after that night, and he'd barely ever thought of her before it. She was pretty, nice, smart; Jake was sure she’d make someone very happy. That someone just wasn’t him. 

She wasn’t the woman who plagued his every thought, who influenced his every decision, who informed his every action. When he had good news, Marie wasn’t the person his fingers were itching to call. When he was sad or lonely, holed up in his room incapable of talking to anyone, Marie never knocked on his door because she just knew something was wrong from a nondescript text message.

“I guess I didn’t really. You know my first time didn’t really mean anything to me. I was a horny teenager at a house party; I guess I got caught up in the moment. I didn’t have any feelings for her, and she definitely didn’t have any for me. We both just wanted to have sex with someone and didn’t mind each other.” 

“Huh.”

“Why’d you ask?” 

Marie Leonard couldn’t be what was bothering her. There were nights in high school when a toxic thought or two had slipped into Jake’s mind, and he’d hoped that Addie would storm into his room, propelled by jealousy of Marie, and declare her love for him. But those thoughts were always gone by morning. He knew, always knew, Addie wasn’t that type of person. She felt jealousy as much as the next person, but Addie would never let something like that fester. She would come to him about it. She always came to him about it. Even if he was the cause of it. And even in those moments in the darkness when the thought crept into his mind, he knew he didn’t actually want that from her, for her. It would mean he caused her pain. He couldn’t have that. 

“You know how I told you Paul dumped me last week?”

That was not the turn in the conversation that Jake had been expecting.

Jake shot up, completely abandoning even the pretense of stargazing. The peace of the night shattered around him like she’d hit a pane of glass overhead with the shards cutting into his skin as they fell. “Did that fucker try something? I swear to fucking god, (Y/n).” 

His mind had turned. He’d been coasting through thoughts of high school and Addie’s awkward phase. He’d been thinking about Marie and cliques and hometowns. Even though Addie was asking about it, he hadn’t for a second been thinking about sex and first times… pressure…

Jake looked ready to kill. 

Addie’s mouth fell open, and she scrambled to sit up as well. Her arms flew out, gripping both of Jake’s shoulders. “No! No, he didn’t do anything like that.” 

Jake’s face, drawn tight with rage, softened, but the rest of his body was wrought with tension. “What did he do?” 

Paul had to have done something, something heinous if it made Addie too upset for the biggest party of the year, too upset to talk with him about it immediately. Addie never hesitated to talk to him.

Jake was livid with Paul. He was ready to jump out of the truck, run all the way to Paul’s, kick in the door, and beat the shit out of him no matter who was there to watch.

“He didn’t do anything. It wasn’t like that,” Addie reassured Jake. She scooted herself closer so she was right next to Jake, facing him. Her hands, still holding onto him like they were the only thing keeping him in the truck, began to slowly work at his shoulders.

Her fingers pressed into his muscles and meaded them under her touch, trying to to loosen up the tension lurking beneath his skin. It worked like a charm. It always worked like a charm. 

“He asked me to… you know.” 

“Did he pressure you?” Jake was still on the warpath, but the fire was dying in his eyes as Addie seemed to slowly massage his anger away. 

“No, He was ready; I said I wasn’t sure.”

“And he dumped you for that?”

“Sort of…” She hedged, and it was putting Jake back on edge, not knowing if she was trying to think of the right words or trying to downplay what he’d done. “He was nice about it. We were two different people in two different places. I knew that going into it. He was just more honest about it. He wasn’t going to pressure me, but he couldn’t move at my pace. We both would’ve been miserable.”

It was a sad realization. Or rather it should’ve been. Addie certainly looked sad, but it didn’t seem to be about Paul. 

Jake could see it, could read it in her eyes. In the way her gaze flitted away from reassuring him, in the way her hands stilled on his shoulders and clenched against his shirt. 

“If you’re not ready, you’re not ready. That’s not your fault, Addie.”

Jake called it, and the frown that etched itself into her face told him as much. She wasn’t unhappy with Paul. She was unhappy with herself. 

“But that’s just it Jake. I am ready. I mean, I want to be. I just…”

“Just what, Addie?”

A thought washed over Addie. Jake saw it run down over her like water as it washed away first the look in her eyes then the expression on her face and the frown on her lips. It interrupted whatever she was planning to say. Her mouth hung half open, formed around a word that her brain simply could no longer communicate. 

“Addie?” Jake reached out a hand and gently rested it on her leg, giving her knee a reassuring squeeze. 

“Jake, am I hot?” 

It wasn’t a question Addie had ever asked before, and for a moment it stunned Jake into silence. 

He knew the answer. He knew the answer as her lips formed the question. He knew the answer before she even asked. He had told her a million times before.

“Addie, I’ve already told you you’re beautiful…”

“No,” Addie emphatically shook her head. Jake told her that all the time. While he watched her get ready for a date, while she nervously waited for one of her painstaking family dinners she dragged him along to, when she ran through the rain to his car without an umbrella and looked like a drowned cat… pretty much every time she got in his car now that she thought about it. But that wasn’t what she asked. “I asked am I hot?”

“Why are you asking me that?” Jake’s eyes were staring into hers with an intensity he was rarely capable of. He was normally too cocky, too chill, too much of a good time to look at anyone like that. It was a serious side of Jake that even she rarely saw, that was rarely necessary. 

“Cause,” his state made her hesitant to ask, hesitant to explain herself. But this was still Jake she was talking to, and she could tell him anything.  “It’s different than being beautiful. Like if we were at a bar, and you didn’t know who I was, would you notice me?”

It was the easiest question she’d ever asked him, maybe the second easiest. Behind every time she’d ever donned a dress and twirled around asking him how she looked. 

There was something about her that night that was screaming with the need to hear what he had been dying to say for years. 

“Addie,” Jake sighed heavily, “I wouldn’t be able to notice anyone else.” 

Several minutes passed in silence, only the mindless drone of the game coming to an end filled the scene with any noise, but neither could make out a word of what was being said.

“Will you do it then?” Addie finally whispered to him.

“Do what?” Jake asked in an equally quiet tone.

“H-have sex with me…”

#jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #hangman #hangman fic #hangman top gun #tgm #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun fic #top gun x reader #hangman x y/n #hangman x you #jake hangman fic #hangman fanfic #hangman fanfiction #jake hangman seresin fluff #jake hangman seresin fic

[icezansky]

a fic by Icezansky

chapters 2/2

rating: Explicit

summary: “Why, are you offering?” He shoots back, trying for bravado, but the considering expression doesn’t leave Jake’s face. The blonde shrugs.

“Why not?” He says, like it’s easy. Like he’s not offering Bob his most secret, shameful fantasy on a silver platter. “Can’t have my buddy going into junior year without any experience. What would the ladies think?”

relationships: Robert "Bob" Floyd/Jake "Hangman" Seresin

tags: Alternate Universe - Trailer Park, Alternate Universe - Contractor, Neighbors, Friends to Lovers, Childhood Friends, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Gratuitous Make Out Sessions, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Alcohol, Blatant Abuse of Texas Geography

words: 15,730

#icezansky fic #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #tgm fic #hangman x bob fic #floydsin fic #tg fic

[manonamora-if]

A tradition with the French Comp is to interview the winner of every edition. Since I won Best Game, I got to partake in this tradition, and answer a bunch of fun questions about my entry and my creation process.

The interview is now available on the French IF community website:

Since it is in French, here is the translation, under the cut. Spoilers ahead. Note: the French article was over 2k words...

Interview with manonamora, winner of the contest 2023

This year, manonamora won the competition, with her entry, DOL-OS. We spoke with her to learn more about her creative process and her future projects!

Can you introduce yourself in a few words? How did you discover interactive fiction?

My name is Manon, a netizen under the pseudo manonamora for years.

I fell into the "cauldron" of interactive fiction in the spring of 2021, when a close friend had sent me the link to the game A Tale of Crowns. I liked this type of game, and it made me rediscover the pleasure of writing, so I stayed. It’s really nice in this pot, we’re having fun!

People appreciated the different levels of depth of your participation and the care taken at the interface, in particular. How long did it take you to design it?

It was a bit of a sprint… 😅

I think I started scribbling my ideas on pages about a month before the entry deadline.

I wanted to try to incorporate both themes (archives and trahison) into the game, just for fun. So I took the easiest path and went on to create an archive of different documents, all linked by the theme of betrayal. Of my list of documents that I wanted to include, I was only able to include half at the end (the other remained in draft, due to lack of time).

The idea of using a computer as a framework and interface for the game came up fairly quickly and organically, since the archive alone was not enough, to my liking. This led to the possibility of adding puzzles (something I didn’t necessarily do in my other games) that I could also link to the theme (like the hangman’s solution or opening Théophile’s account) and creating animated and pixelated visuals (like a fake virus downloaded). I even made a list of puzzles and minigames to add so that the computer looks like a real computer (that’s why there is a sudoku in the "games" folder, or the keypad to open one of the programs).

From there, I thought I would just do two blocks of archives: one on the guest’s account, where some of the documents would look corrupt, and another on Theophilus' account, where those missing documents would be. But by writing certain documents, such as the note in the trash and the journal entries (which were not separated from the archive initially), I had fun looking for the links between all the different parts and thinking more about the universe in which this old computer was. That’s how the Jupiter-Broker project became an artificial intelligence project, more than a virus.

What are the things that inspired you?

Other than a title I had written down in my drafts, I’m not sure which source inspired me to choose this genre or framework or use of the theme in this way. I’ve been a big fan of science fiction for as long as I can remember (I had swallowed Asimov in middle school/junior high… and now I’m stuck with the anthologies of short stories) and video games in general (especially the history and universe of these games). Everything that has to do with robots, the advancement of technology, futuristic stories, and human dilemmas that have to do with these first points, I’m passionate about it! I wouldn’t be surprised if, somewhere in my brain, I could pick up stuff from Portal or System Shock or Fallout or Asimov’s Robot Cycle, or even WALL-E and Alien, without really realizing it.

In my notes, the only concrete thing I could find was one of the entries of the Intertact-IF 2022 game jam: Logical Choices, especially in terms of its simplicity, and, finally, the newspaper too.

For the visual, I wanted from the start to have something simple, with the look of old computer in black and green, like my grandmother’s minitel. I really tried to search for minitel page images (I even found a page editor!). On the other hand, trying to code everything, it didn’t really go well with Twine, especially the animation of the blocks that appear one after the other. I was quickly tempted to create the game in minitel pages, but well, I only had 2 weeks left… It was a bit short to learn a new system. So I just took pictures of old computer screens.

Are there any secrets the players might have missed?

There are several little secrets in the game.

The first category concerns the names in the game: the title, «DOL-OS», is based on the Greek deity of the same name, Dolos, personifying treachery (and bam, the theme of the contest; and it sounded good as operating system name). The AI is named Janus, the deity with two faces. The program of Theodore’s diary, in which he was summoned by his organization to write his days, is named «Ind.ic», coming from the French word indic, a person who informs the police.

Something a little more fuzzy can be found in the writer’s draft, which is related to one of my other games, Exquisite Cadaver, where the player plays this writer, who has not been able to write for months. This is not the first time I have included a link to this game in my projects, like the "cocktail" Renaud’s Nightmare in The Thick Table Tavern.

Where do you get your ideas, generally speaking?

A bit everywhere. Sometimes, it comes organically enough looking at the theme or the constraints of a game jam (La Petite Mort, Goncharov Escapes!). Sometimes, it’s just the desire to push a kind of puzzle or a type of gameplay into a project (Exquisite Cadaver, well it was also the theme). Sometimes it’s typing “trope [genre]” in Google and taking the first thing that comes out (SPS Iron Hammer). Otherwise I have some ideas that have been inspired by books (P-RIX – SPACE TRUCKER, by Stanisław Lem’s Tales of Pirx the Pilot) or films (Meeting the Parents, inspired by Meet the Parents). Other projects or ideas for future projects are inspired by books on my nightstand, or conversations with loved ones, or even just random thoughts that come and go.

I’m not trying too hard to think. If it doesn’t inspire me or amuse me, I’ll move on. Creating interactive fiction is all about fun. And I already have a super long list of ideas I want to do…

You only use Twine. Is there a particular reason? Do you intend to try other creative systems in the future? Maybe some of the other entries gave you some ideas?

For the moment, yes. Twine remains my favourite, having been the first program I hooked up with when I started creating interactive games. The software was easy to navigate and rather playful to use (Harlowe has extra help to code in the program) and the program is open source. It was really important for me, who didn’t have any code or programming knowledge that went any further than that techno hour to the colleague where a substitute had taught us to create a basic HTML page. With Twine, it stuck from the start.

And then, personally, I love that the customisation aspect can be pushed as much. You can do hypertext or multi-choice games, dungeons, RPGs, etc. I created a cocktail bar for my participation in the IFComp last year, and there I did a puzzle. I have a friend who has recreated Minesweeper and another who has made Snake with his sauce. Almost anything is possible with Twine!

When I get tired of Twine, I think I’ll try other systems, especially those to create parsers (because making one with Twine is a bit of a mess… /did and done that). And then also test programs made in France. Already during the ECTOCOMP and the Feldo streams of the games of the old competitions, Donjon had intrigued me a lot. And also ink, to make stories that extend to infinity (it takes too much tinkering with Twine for it to work...).

But my Twine fling isn’t over yet. I’ve only been playing with the interface since last summer, and I don’t feel like I’ve discovered the bottom of the iceberg yet. There are still a lot of things I haven’t tested yet, whether it’s in different formats or gameplay. I would like to do some kind of escape room or RPG in the future. I still want to push the envelope a little further…

You participated in the IFComp (the largest English-language event) before participating in our contest. Are there any differences that particularly struck you between the two?

By missing the inclusion of a theme (which the IFComp does not), I think the biggest difference between the two contests is the attitude of the participants and the players. The atmosphere of the French competition is really relaxed and I noticed a lot of support in the Discord. Or even have a person stream all the games on Twitch (it’s very convenient for me who is a loser in parsers…). It’s really positive!

On the other side, there is the IFComp which is really considered the event of the year, where the authors exhibit their best creations, without any real constraints, some having been in development secretly for years. The atmosphere is more professional and harsh towards its participants. There is really a lot of expectation from the entire interactive fiction community. It’s supposed to be the crème of the crop in interactive fiction.

After that, even if the atmosphere of the French-language competition is more chill, I found the level of entries much more uniform in terms of quality. While the IFComp will often have very poor or even zero entries (the bottom of the ranking having an average of below 2.5 out of 10), the overall French competition had a very high level (a sentiment shared by one of the critics on intfiction.org). The attention to each game had a lot of merit, especially as regards writing.

Another thing that struck me as well was the diversity between the systems and formats used—it is possible that the competition, having three times fewer bids than the IFComp, may have influenced my perspective on the subject. But between the French programs (Moiki, and Donjon), the more popular ones (Twine, Inform, ink), or even made from scratch (like the participations of AZ and Narkhos), there were many choices and important differences between uses. It was a fascinating experience that really made me want to try something new.

Finally, I had a very different attitude towards the two competitions. After taking a little slap during the IFComp (arriving in the middle of the stack and having received fair but also severe feedback, read more here), the expectation I had with myself with the contest was less trying to get to a certain position in the standings, but no more fun creating something different. It was much easier to look a little more… healthy competition, with all the lessons learned during the IFComp and new knowledge and experiences between the two competitions.

And on top of that, you regularly participate in game jams like ECTOCOMP or Partim 500, you co-organize the SeedComp! , and you’re going to participate in the Spring Thing. Is there a secret to such productivity?

Delusion that all this is doable in the allotted time. Free time. And spite. But especially the first point. 😂

(this was the gif that came into my mind when I wrote my answer, not part of the actual interview)

Frankly, I’m not helping my cause either. As soon as I find a project that is a bit interesting, I can get all in on it quite quickly and put all my energy and free time into it. It’s not recommended, actually. Even if all these participations taught me a lot of things (and especially to learn quickly), it tires a lot in the end... I am often emptied at the end of each new jam/comp.

It’s probably a little psychological, too. The will to create a lot to leave a trace behind me, a trace that will represent everything I could accomplish, everything I could be able to do or try to do. The desire to prove to others and especially to myself that I can create stuff that I as a child could not have imagined; especially since before 2021, I really didn’t have any programming knowledge… Willingness, or perhaps duty, to prove that I can solve a challenge in a short time (for example: in 4 hours for ECTOCOMP, or two quiet afternoons for Partim 500), or with significant constraints (One-Button and Two-Buttons jams), or just because there’s a piece of spaghetti code that taunts me about unravelling it.

Anyway...

Do you have other projects underway or coming soon? Perhaps you plan to participate in the contest next year?

Of what happens soon, hopefully, The Roads not Taken, a parser made with Twine, will be finished in time for the Spring Thing. I really want to talk about it, but at the same time, it’s more fun if it’s still a little secret… [note: it is now out!]

Otherwise… Too many projects in progress. Between the demos not yet completed, the translations of my old games finished, the organization of game jams (SeedComp! will not be the only one this year…), and the hope of participating in the next IF competitions, I have given myself a lot of work (too much) to do.

Ha ha ha…

Thank you for answering these questions! Congratulations again, good luck and don’t forget to take care of yourself!

#dol-os #dol os #dolos #interview #winning game #competition game

[bradshawsbaby]

One of my headcanons is that it was really difficult for Rooster and Hangman to start becoming friends, even after the mission. I picture their energy like that between Ross and Mike from Friends in that scene where they really don‘t have anything to talk about. But Phoenix and Mrs. Bradshaw won‘t let their mans not get along, so they start planning elaborate get togethers and activities for all of them in order for Rooster and Hangman to get to know each other.

But even after months of their best efforts, none of their plans bear fruit and they are incredibly frustrated that they can‘t get their two idiots to get along better.

So this one time they’re out on the town when Phoenix and Mrs. Bradshaw need to use the bathroom so they find the nearest sports bar. And while the girls go on about their business they leave their man alone at the bar. They order a beer and just sit in silence absently watching a football game on some dinky tv mounted above the bar.

Some off-hand comment of Jake‘s gets them talking and arguing. I picture it something like:

J: They should‘ve ran the ball. They were literally 4 yards from the endzone.

B: Their run game has been weak this entire season. Throwing was the right move even on third down.

J: Are you kidding me, if they‘d run a draw play they would‘ve had 6 now instead of having to kick a field goal.

B: You don‘t know that. The defense was on to their play calling the whole game.

Silence for a couple of moments

J: You play?

B: Yeah. Through college. You?

J: Yeah. me too. Which position?

B: Quarterback. You

J. Of course (eye roll). Running back.

B: Ah, makes sense. University of Georgie (or whatever). You?

J: University of Texas. Hook em horns.

Some more, slightly less awkward silence.

B: You were any good?

J: I could‘ve gone pro but i had a nasty knee injury junior year and I never really recovered. You?

B: Shoulder Injury.

They both nod at each other, a look of acknowledgment in their eyes as they clink their beers.

Meanwhile Phoenix and Mrs. Bradshaw watch from a distance.

P: What´s happening?

Mrs. B: I have no idea

Cue Rooster and Hangman shouting in unison

J: Dude, that‘s not holding!

B: Ref what are you doing, man?

Rooster and Hangman look at each other shaking their heads and throwing their hands in the air in disbelief.

J: What the hell was that?

B: Don‘t ask me. Refs these days, huh?

J: Totally man. Tragedy, they don‘t let them play like they used to.

B: You‘re taking the words out of my mouth, man.

Phoenix and Mrs. Bradshaw can‘t really comprehend what’s happening right now and just stare in disbelief.

Just two dudes drinking a beer and arguing/ watching football. And a beautiful friendship was born. Who knew that that was all that it took.

And they have been besties ever since, with regular football sunday barbecues and get togethers, especially once all the kids come along.

What do you think?

Aww, this is cute! I love how much thought and effort you put into this!

Since I don’t imagine Bradley and Mrs. Bradshaw meeting, or Hangman and Phoenix getting together, until after the events of the movie, this isn’t really how I see their relationship, but that’s the great thing about headcanons—everybody has their own and people can be as creative as they want!

Just as a little bit of random trivia since you mentioned where they went to college—according to Bradley’s file, he went to University of Virginia! And though it’s not blatantly stated, considering the giant class ring he wears, Hangman attended the Naval Academy.

#tgm headcanons #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #mr. & mrs. bradshaw #hannix #hangman x phoenix

[himbos-hotline]

Moodboards Masterlists

Eddie Kingston Wrestleblr Sectret Santa [Malaki Black, 'Hangman' Adam Page and Orange Cassidy] Polycule [Jay Orton, Kenny Omega, Wheeler yuta, 'Hangman' Adam Page and Adam Cole [baybay] ] Greek Gods moodboards [poseidon, dionysus, hepaestus, Apollo and Aphrodite] Easter or Halloween 'Hangman' Adam Page Darkiplier Jason Dean shield!seth moodboard @/shanie-the-toyaddict moodboard Maura Isles Genderfluid crutchie Googleplier x the author Actor mark and Celine Werewolf Antisepticeye Jack Kelly, Cottagecore ISWM part 2: Diner at the edge of the universe Newsies Winter Gift Exchange [Katherine and roses] Trans surfer dude Racetrack Higgins Ralbert Jack Kelly Jack Kelly, dark academic Melchior Gabor x Moritz Stiefel Spidertrack Higgins JackCrutchie but like Bonnie & Clyde Winn Schott Junior actor mark Yancy, Aquarium date Zowens Sunrises and Stethoscopes- Cora Higgins Ralbert with pastel blues and oranges

[Disclaimer: I am no longer in the newsies fandom]

[topherwrites]

FIC RECS: TOP GUN: MAVERICK

Look, there's a clear bias here for a certain ken-doll looking motherfucker. I love him, it can't be helped.

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each. This is split into two parts, TGM fics and everything else.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! If I missed you, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

JAKE SERESIN

5 times Hangman got older + 1 time he got wiser, too by @/folkloreslovechild (deactivated)

It’s about time Jake realised that what he feels for you is love.

Sidenote: this was the first fic I read in this fandom and probably the thing that kicked off the obsession.

Less Talk by @tongue-like-a-razor

Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.

Brother's Best Friend by @/tongue-like-a-razor

Brother's best friend!Jake and Bradshaw!reader.

Ex Appeal by @/tongue-like-a-razor

Jake Seresin gets a frightful visitor on Halloween.

bad habit by @seasonsbloom

the moment you meet hangman, you know you hate him. and then suddenly, you’re not so sure anymore.

Line of Sight by @honkytonk-hangman

You’re almost certain that Jake Seresin could care less about you, that is, until you’re in a tight spot and the one guy you assume will hang you out to dry, instead comes to your rescue.

How It's Done by @/honkytonk-hangman

“Like me? I didn’t even think you wanted me as a squadmate, let alone–” you stop speaking, but only because Hangman cuts his eyes sharply away from you to glare out at the ocean. “Well, I do.” He says kind of indignantly, all things considered, and eyes you almost sourly. “You can just say no if you don’t–” “–No, I do!” you quickly cut him off, because at the end of it all, you’re a little too much of a hopeless romantic to let this moment pass you by.

cruel summer by @roosterbruiser

In the midst of panic and in the wake of horror, friends turn on friends, lovers turn on lovers. And when the impossible just keeps happening--you emerge as a voice of reason. It's a cruel, cruel summer.

Fuck: The Universe by @/roosterbruiser

Who knew lemon-lime Gatorade and Plan B would be the start to your love story. Or enemies to fuck buddies to friends to lovers. Whichever you prefer!

Crash (Into Me) by @ladylibby

You and Hangman have always had a special spark. At first it was hatred, and then it was mutual respect, and then it was friendship, and now…well, you’re not so sure anymore. Especially when you both get called back to Top Gun for a mission that forces you both to reconcile what you really mean to one another. 

The Douchebag Jar by @jupitercomet

Jake Seresin is what his friends like to call “a douche bag”. His work friends were all dudebros, he spent more time in the gym than he did in his own kitchen, and the last time he’d been in a serious relationship was his junior year of college. And Jake had no problem being a douche bag, not even Bradley’s “Douche Bag Jar” could deter him from the lifestyle. In fact, he didn’t think there was a single person alive that would ever make him change. Enter an Elementary school teacher with an alarming amount of sock puppets and a never-ending supply of Starbursts. There is a very real possibility the “Douche Bag Jar” might put Jake into debt.

California King Bed by @halfway-happyyy

the one where jake seresin realizes his selfish tendencies could cost him everything.

North Star by @violentdelightsandviolentends

It's New Years Eve. Jake is tired of waiting.

Hey, Neighbor! by @sunlightmurdock

Jake’s been having a problem recently, and when the power goes out next door, everything quickly comes to a head.

Fake It by @waklman

a pair of best friends, one apartment, and one fake dating ploy to get jake’s ex girlfriend back, will end well right? wrong.

Flyboy by @kryptonitejelly

Jake gets called back to TOPGUN the same time you’ve been granted a sabbatical from work. He invites you, his purely platonic best friend of years, to live with him for 6 months and you accept. Just two best friends kicking it back for 6 months in San Diego, Fightertown USA, right?

And the truth of the matter is (I'll never let you go) by @fidogo

Jake Seresin hates you. Or is given no choice but to hate you after you decide to hate him first. Which sucks, because he dreams of dating you, marrying you, fucking you, the whole nine yards.

you left me no choice but to stay here forever (right where you left me) by @sunderlust

you and jake have been best friends for years and eventually he becomes the love of your life - which makes it that much harder to cope when he starts pulling away with no explanation.

I've Been Holdin' Out So Long by @steadfastconviction

You can’t stand Hangman, but your dreams lately say otherwise. He notices.

The Roommate Predicament by @witchwyfe

Jake your sweet roommate who always helps you when your friends bring you back after too many $1 beers from the bar down the street. Jake who knows just how you take your coffee—iced with soy milk and creamer—and makes it for you whenever you have early classes. Jake who’s planning on going into the Navy right after graduation so why bother with telling him your feelings when you don’t know where either of you will be a year from now.

Whatever This Is by @magnolia-among-the-stars

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?

How You Get the Girl by @/seresinsweetie

The story of how your best friend, Jake Seresin, finally admitted to having feelings for you, only to break your heart shortly after.

Everything by @madsnowstorm

jake loves weddings. you hate them. shared revelations might just change your opinion.

One More Night by @southpawbitch

a surprise wedding forces you and jake to pretend like everything is fine.

This Isn't What It Looks Like by @phoenixsbby

Hangman is totally, 100% over his ex … he just needs a fake girlfriend to prove it.

cross my heart by @almostgenerallyalways

On the eve of what may be the biggest mission in your naval career, the answer to your problem comes to you in the form of Lt. Jake Seresin.

Meet Me at the Sea by @sailor-aviator

a super unique mermaid au!

BRADLEY BRADSHAW

baby, i'm yours by @almightyellie

in which you and bradley are in the same major and you’re completely unaware of how much he adores you.

Like I Can by @sometimesanalice

After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Just Roommates by @risriswrites

a series of moments between bradley bradshaw and his roommate that prove they're a little more than "just roommates".

In Another Life by @/jupitercomet

You and Bradley have a talk about kids.

Little Cyclone by @seresinsweetie

This story gives you a glimpse of what it looks and feels like to spend a summer falling in love with Bradley Bradshaw, or in other words, a glimpse of all the kinds of trouble you’re able to get into with him – taking into consideration that your father is none other than Admiral Beau “Cyclone” Simpson.

Love to Lie by @ddejavvu

Your worst fear is recognized when Bradley’s jet goes down with him in it. You’re not sure why you’re still his emergency contact, you’d broken up two weeks ago, but when you rush into the hospital room, you discover that you have a chance to fix the mistake you’d been cursing yourself for. The only problem is, you have to lie to Bradley, and you discover that you love doing it if it means you get to be with him again.

warm blood by @notroosterbradshaw

a few drinks at everyone’s favourite bar. you’re home, it’s been a few very cold months at sea. but he warms you to your bones each time you see him. but it’s sadly just not meant to be. 

G.U.Y by @/notroosterbradshaw

But you’re not in love with him. It’s just the things he can do to your body, and the way he talks, or how he flits in and out of your life with no chance of any kind of commitment.

Bottoms Up by @wkndwlff

Nat only turns 33 once, but that doesn't mean your tolerance has changed. Luckily your best friend is there to take care of you after one too many shots…

BOB FLOYD

he's so pretty (when he goes down on me) by @/seasonsbloom

things between you and Bob are strictly business: he’s your backseater, and that’s all there is. Until he offers to help you let off some steam and you find out just how pretty he looks between your thighs…

Foggy by @sushiwriterhere

Perhaps most tantalizing of all were his glasses–their lenses were lightly fogged, but you could still almost see his wide eyes behind them.

Picture Perfect Porcelain by @coyotesamachado

Her arm curls around the door so it’s lined up along the edge of it, Bob thinks he sees a droplet of water track from her wrist back down to her elbow, but his glasses are back in his locker and he really wishes they weren’t right now. He swallows thickly, because it’s different when he knows she’s naked behind there as opposed to it being salt water after she had been thrown into the ocean by Coyote during dogfight football.

Robert From Next Door by @attapullman

You've lucked out with the perfect neighbor, a kind and overly helpful WSO. He puts up Christmas lights, lends his lawn mower, and grabs your morning paper. But what happens when he's out of peppermint tea one night?

Take On Me by @ficsilike-reblogged

What happens when the love of Bob’s life finally makes a move…the night before he deploys?

good 4 u by @bobgasm

in which bob’s been invited to his ex’s wedding and you volunteer to go as his date.

What Lovers Do by @wyn-n-tonic

awkward first time sex.

drummer!bob blurb by @/callsignbob (deactivated)

Robert Floyd, Man of the Sky by @bippot

When his old college pal inherits her grandmother's lake house, Bob is the first to nominate himself to help out. It gives him something to do and a chance to feel young, something that he only feels when he's in the sky.

girl in a coffee shop by @ohgodnotagainn

4 times bob recommended a drink + 1 time he recommended something else.

(bob x reader x jake)

Steer the Course by @chemicalalice

Bob never thought he would ever find himself sleeping with a friend's girlfriend. He can't figure out why Jake wants it.

JAVY MACHADO

bad liar by @inklore

hooking up with your brothers best friend is not a mistake you wish to repeat. watching each other get off seems like the only viable option to restrain yourselves.

Your Love is the Love I Need by @theharddeck

Cross and Javy are very good friends. Javy might’ve let it slip to his mother that they’re more. A little fake dating never hurt anyone, right?

post g-loc drabble by @/roosterbruiser

(javy x reader x jake)

it's not rotten work (not if it's you) by @/sushiwriterhere

Four times you, Jake, and Javy danced around the truth, and the one time you confronted it.

a little bit of fun by @/sushiwriterhere

a threesome drabble.

NATASHA TRACE

slumber party kissing by @laracrofted

after a bachelorette party, you and phoenix have a sleepover.

(natasha x reader x bob)

supernova by @/laracrofted

in a game of truth or dare, you reveal your dream threesome.

#jake seresin x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader #bob floyd x reader #javy machado x reader #natasha trace x reader #jake seresin #bradley bradshaw #bob floyd #javy machado #natasha trace #tgm fanfiction #fic rec #fic rec list

[julia-highstorms]

The Girl With The Leopard Print Coat (Damien x OC (Ellie)) - NSFW

Summary: A sketchbook, punk music and a leopard print coat were everything that Damien Nazario remembered of that night.

Author’s note: this fanfic takes place in my “The Third Park” AU, before the events of PM, even before Damien met Allen and Nadia and Alana. This is a special part showing that Ellie was the first ‘Park cousin’ D actually met.

Copyright: Characters belong to Pixelberry Studios, only Ellie is mine. Damien is 100% human here and mine is a Male!MC named Allen. Santiago Cabrera’s, Ni Ni’s and all the gifs don’t belong to me.

Songs: 4ever by The Veronicas and Get You Alone by The Donnas are the songs that most inspired me to write this story, but I made a playlist with the songs that were playing during the rock show, songs that Ellie listened to as an emo-punk rocker girl (AKA what I listened to when I was a teenager and still listens to sometimes lol). The links for each song is in the fanfic!

Pairing: Damien x Ellie (OC)

Rating: +18 (drugs, sex and rock n’ roll)

Word count: 5260

Tagging my TTP readers: @christopher-powell @boneandfur @kennaxval @writtenbycandy @thequeenchoices @client327 @damienazariostan @never-ending-choices @walkerismychoice @laniquelovely @confessionsofabrokegirl @dangerous-capri15 @parkerattano @clarissafics @pilitella @hellomynameisdeviblaire @odetomars @cocomaxley @her-imperial-hangman-s @endlesswoods @miss-cordonia-deactivated201808 If you would like to be tagged, please, tell me!

The girl was wearing a band t-shirt, black ripped skinny jeans, a leopard print coat, combat boots and a choker with spikes that matched her rocker style. She had a straight short black hair and, despite the bang partially covering her face, Damien Nazario could see that the stranger - she probably was around 20 - was pretty. Her curious dark eyes scanned the train car as she brought the sketchbook in her hands closer to her face.

From the spot where he was standing, Damien couldn’t see what she was doing, but using his investigative skills and basing on the way she kept glancing between the people in there and her sketchbook, the man guessed that she was drawing them. She already was doing it when he entered the car.

Then, her eyes locked on his. He gave her a small grin which she responded with a coyly smirk, her cheeks getting a shade pinker. Damien concluded that he was her next target as her hand expertly moved on her sketchbook.

Eleanor Zhou was a junior at Hartfeld University and one of her favorite hobbies was drawing strangers in trains. Especially when they were dashingly gorgeous like that one.

She had just finished sketching an old lady reading a book across her seat and was looking around, wondering who she should draw next, when her eyes locked on a standing figure a few feet from her.

He had his hair cut very short, clever brown eyes, a chiseled jawline, super kissable lips and his nose and dark eyebrows brought harmony to his handsome face.

Ellie felt a heartleap when she noticed that he was already staring at her - but not in a creepy way -, curiously. The attractive stranger - he was a few years older than her, in his mid-twenties - grinned slightly, as if he was allowing her to draw him and so she did. They exchanged a few more glances and smirks, until it was her stop. The girl quickly put her sketchbook and pencil in her backpack and hopped out of the train.

She saw him looking at her one last time as she walked down the platform of the Brooklyn Bridge subway station. The train and the gorgeous stranger were soon gone.

It was October’s last Saturday night and twenty-year-old Ellie was in New York City, her favorite city in the whole world (not that she had seen much of the world, but still). Her parents had let her go there to watch the show of her favorite and obscure femme punk band, Coagurot (they would never tour near Cedar Cove, her hometown, and they weren’t known enough to go to Hartfeld), only if one of her cousins agreed to go with her.

“Yes, Mom, I’m on my way to meet Nadia, and then we’re going to the bar where the band is going to play.” - she spoke through her phone. - “No, Allen won’t go with us because he’s out on a date... I don’t know when it will end, there are a lot of other bands playing tonight and I want to listen to them too.” - she heard her mother’s concerned voice from the other side. - “Yeah, I’ll text you when we get home, but you and Dad will probably be sleeping. Don’t worry, everything’s going to be okay and I’ll be back to Hartfeld tomorrow evening. Love you too, bye.”

She ended the call and let out a relieved sigh. Her mom always worried way too much. She was just going to watch a concert with her favorite cousin (and okay, Nadia Park wasn’t exactly the most responsible person in the world, but Ellie knew that that small cinnamon bun would fight anyone to protect themselves). If her mother knew about all those parties Ellie went to in Hartfeld and what happened there…

“Oh my God, you’re here!” - Nadia squealed as she pulled her cousin into a tight hug. - “Did you find your way easily? The subway map can be a little confusing!”

“Yeah, it was all good. Thanks for letting me sleep here today, by the way.” - Eleanor entered the small studio apartment. It was a mess like always, but at least the couch was free.

“Good! I’m sorry I didn’t meet you at the station, I was too busy looking for the perfect look!” - Ellie chuckled as she put her backpack down.

“You know we’re going to a punk rock concert, right? Not a fashion show.”

“I know!” - Nadia rolled her eyes and shoved her cousin playfully. - “But I have to look the part, you know! If they find out that my favorite band is Coldplay, I’ll be massacred there! So!” - she spinned on her toes. - “Do I look like a punk princess?”

“The tutu certainly gives you a princess look and the ripped pantyhose and combat boots are punk-ish. They’re beautiful, by the way, just like mine.”

“Girl, how can you wear them everyday?! They’re so heavy!”

“I guess we just get used to them.” - she shrugged. - “Besides, they’re way easier to walk around than high heels.”

“Hey, don’t you dare say anything about my heels! You got lucky that you’re tall!” - Ellie chuckled. Nadia was always the same. - “Anyway, when will the bands start playing?”

“They will start at 10 o’clock, but I guess Coagurot will play only around midnight.”

“Then we have enough time to gossip and grab something to eat before the show!” - Nadia said, applying a heavy makeup to her pretty face. - “So, any news?”

The bar was located in Manhattan and they ate hot dogs from a street food vendor on their way there. When the two girls arrived, a band was already playing.

“Oh my God, it’s Black Flag!” - Eleanor squealed excitedly, walking through the crowd to get closer to the small stage of the place, with Nadia following her close behind.

“The guitarist is cute!” - her cousin observed, making Ellie roll her eyes.

They enjoyed the rest of the show and more two bands played before Coagurot was finally announced.

“You used to love me but now your heart is cold as ice…” - the singer sang intensely, the crowd cheering wildly. Eleanor singed along, flipping her hair around as she rocked back and forth.

Even after Coagurot had finished their set and were substituted by another band, the two cousins continued dancing into the night, energized by the electric vibe of the place.

Damien Nazario asked for his fourth beer and another shot of Bacardi of that night. Maybe if he kept drinking, the alcohol would make all that noise more bearable. He was on his favorite dive bar, he liked to go there whenever he felt like celebrating - or just drinking, to be honest - and to listen to the people who performed there. They usually were jazz bands, but that night it was happening some kind of a music festival, with a lot of punk bands taking on the small stage.

Punk wasn’t really his scene; he liked the good old rock n’ roll better.

And he knew that he could just simply go home - it was past midnight already and he had to go work early on Monday -, but he saw a certain girl with a leopard print coat in the middle of that mosh pit.

And Damien firmly believed that coincidences didn’t happen; that it was some kind of sign. What were the odds of meeting her twice in the same night?  He should go talk to her when he had the chance.

...But she still was in the middle of the crowd, dancing alone and singing along to the song, so beautiful looking like she was having the time of her life. He watched her from the bar counter, sipping on his drink.

After he finished his beer, the man decided to go outside to smoke a cigarette. He was trying to quit it, but smoking always seemed to make the time pass faster, and the girl didn’t seem to be leaving the dance floor so soon.

After two hours of uninterrupted dancing and jumping, Eleanor Zhou’s legs and her dry throat were begging for a break. She looked around, searching for Nadia - who disappeared during the pit; she still wasn’t ready to be a part of it -, when she saw her cousin in one dark corner, making out with a long haired dude. Ellie chuckled to herself as she headed to the bar counter.

The girl asked for a bottle of water when she noticed a broad shouldered and not completely stranger figure walking towards the backdoor of the bar. After she got her drink, she followed him, heading outside, which turned out to be a smoking area.

The place smelled like nicotine, pot and piss, some people smoked in groups and there were couples with their tongues down each other’s throats, but Ellie didn’t care; her eyes were locked on the lone figure leaning against the building’s wall.

It was him. The guy from the train. That was a sign. It had to be. What were the odds of meeting him twice in the same night? She simply had to talk to him now. Besides, she was leaving NYC the next day. That was her only chance to talk to him.

Taking a deep breath, she walked towards him, her heart pounding inside her chest.

Of course Damien Nazario noticed the girl with the leopard print coat approaching him, but he just kept searching for his lighter, with a cigarette on his lips.

“Uh, hey.” - she greeted him with a coyly smile. He looked up to her face. She was even more beautiful closer, with her cheeks flushed due to all that dancing and jumping around. - “I guess I saw you at the train earlier.” - he finally got to light up his cigarette.

“And I saw you.” - he grinned back at her. - “How was the drawing?”

Her smile widened slightly. She felt happy that he remembered her. And he seemed easy to talk to.

“It turned out okay. If I had the sketchbook with me here I’d show you, but I left it at home. It’s a little hard sketching on a moving car, but you were great standing still. Thanks for that.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m Damien by the way. You?”

“Ellie.” - they shook each other’s hand. His hand was big and warm and hers was smaller and softer.

“So, Ellie… I was about to offer you a drink… but I guess you’re not old enough yet, based on your drink choice.” - he pointed to the bottle of water in her left hand. He liked the sound of her laugh.

“Well, I still can’t buy myself a drink, but if you’re really willing to do that, I won’t deny it.” - he chuckled softly. She was smooth.

“You really shouldn’t be telling me this.”

“Why, are you a cop?”

“Detective.” - he quickly showed her his NYPD badge. She seemed impressed but not intimidated by it. - “I’ve been promoted recently. This is why I’m here, actually. Celebrating on my favorite bar.”

“Oh yeah, you definitely seem to be on a celebrating mood. Drinking alone and smoking on the corner.” - she mocked him. His grin widened slightly too. She was bold and sarcastic; Damien definitely liked her.

“Well, I’d be happier if there wasn’t so much noise inside.”

“It’s not noise; it’s music.” - Ellie corrected him.

“All I can hear is a lot of yelling and no melody.”

“Oh my God, don’t tell me you’re that kind of guy who considers only ‘classic rock music good’. This is such a turn off.”

“I’m not saying this… but I kind of agree with it.” - she rolled her eyes.

“And what do you consider ‘real music’, then, Mr. Detective? Which is your favorite band?”

“Dire Straits.”

“...Okay, they are good.” - she agreed with him, making Damien chuckle again. - “But that doesn’t mean that today’s music isn’t good too. They’re going to be tomorrow’s classic.”

He partially agreed with her.

“So you came here tonight for the show?” - she nodded at him, taking a sip of her water. He glanced at her rosy lips, wondering what was her taste. - “Which one?”

“Coagurot, a femme punk band from Texas. But they played like an hour ago and I’ve been enjoying the other bands too. Unlike someone.” - he decided to ignore her mockness.

“Hmm… and are you leaving any time soon?” - he saw a mischievous shine on her eyes.

“I don’t know.” - she shrugged. - “My cousin simply vanished after the mosh pit. I think she is making out with some random guy somewhere. What about you? Leaving soon?”

“I was planning on going home, but I guess I can stay a little longer.” - he scooped closer to her. Their lips were just a breath away, his thumb already brushing off the hair of her pretty face, when she suddenly pulled out, smirking mischievously.

“You know what? I guess you really should give another chance to my ‘noisy punk music’. What do you say?”

Damien knew she was playing with him. But he agreed to play her game anyway.

“Okay, sure. Why not?”

She smiled widely before shoving him back inside. He put out his halfway smoked cigarette.

“Hey! What are you doing?” - Ellie asked when Damien stopped walking suddenly.

“I told you that I would give another chance to punk music by listening to it, not by going in there.” - he pointed to the crowd jumping around like crazy right in front of the stage. The girl rolled her eyes.

“Hmm, are you scared of getting caught in the middle of a mosh pit, Mr. Detective?”

“No.” - he frowned and she knew that he clearly was lying. He was afraid of it.

“Okay, okay, we can listen from afar then.” - she said, leaning against the wall in the back of the bar, right next to him.

The listened to the edgy music in silence. Ellie bobbed her head following the rhythm of the song.

“Seriously, you have to confess that the beat is energising.”

“It certainly is… but how can someone dance to it? And by ‘dancing’ I mean using your body, not just your head.” - he kept criticising it. She rolled her eyes one more time before turning to face him.

“It’s simple; I believe we can dance to pretty much anything. All you need to do is move accordingly to the rhythm.” - and then she started throwing her head back and forth, her arms in the air, her hips swinging to the music in the right tempo. - “And feel the music.”

Damien watched the girl dancing in front of him, arousal building up inside him. He could have said that it was because of the alcohol, or because of that look in her eyes and her cheesy smile, or even the strangely sexy beat of the song that was playing, but the true was that he wanted her so fucking bad.

Without saying a single word, he suddenly pulled her in and Ellie felt herself pressed against his broad and firm chest, his arms already tight around her waist and the scent of cigarette mixed with the leather from his jacket and his perfume hitting her hard.

Her cheeks immediately got hotter and her heart beat faster, but she didn’t pulled out. In fact, she slowly looked up to his face, seeing his brown eyes darkened with lust searching for hers. She felt an exciting shiver running through her spine as he slowly leaned in and their mouths met.

To Ellie’s surprise, the kiss was incredibly gentle, but super hot at the same time. Damien’s lips lingered on hers, while his hands explored her body expertly, making her breath speed up. She deepened the kiss, throwing her arms around his shoulders, trying to get even more closer to him.

Suddenly, he changed their positions and Eleanor felt her back against the wall and Damien’s weight pressing her there, the warmth of his body enveloping her, his heart beating as fast as hers. Her head spinned and she felt so intoxicated by him as they tasted one another. It almost felt like the world had stopped around them.

She groaned softly when she felt his crotch hardening against her, and that was enough to make a heat pool between her legs too. Oh, she wanted him so bad.

They pulled apart when they needed some air, both feeling hot and bothered.

“Hey…” - Ellie murmured as Damien hid his face on her neck, softly sucking the smooth skin there, making her feel dizzier. She had no idea how long they’ve been making out, but she didn’t care.

“What?” - he asked, his thumb contouring the shape of her swollen, soft and delicious lips.

“What do you say we go somewhere a little more private?” - she proposed, a mischievous smirk already on her beautiful face.

The man grinned back.

“I’d like that. I want to get you alone and have you all on my own since we were in that train.” - he whispered in her ear, making her crave for him even more, if that was possible. He watched Eleanor biting her bottom lip seductively before guiding him through the people, her hand on his, their fingers intertwined.

As soon as they entered the restroom - they had no idea in which one they were, men’s or women’s, and if there were people around; they couldn’t care less - they stumbled together into the small stall, their mouths already tasting each other, their bodies eager for each other’s touch.

“Wait, wait.” - she whispered, stopping kissing Damien for a second. But it was really hard to keep her mind straight with his hands roaming all over her body like that. - “You have a condom, right?”

“Of course I have.” - he muttered back as he impatiently unfastened her tight skinny jeans.

“Well, it is always good to kno— oh…” - she moaned when his fingers found her sensitive core, underneath her clothes. She already was so wet and hot down there.

“Do you like this?” - he smirked, his forehead on hers, watching Ellie’s breath speeding up as he circled her clit. She nodded.

“Fuck me...” - she ordered before kissing him hard, in a way to contain her moans, fully aware that they shouldn’t make any sound. It all turned everything even more exciting.

Damien groaned when her cold hand found his stiff length, pumping it, her lips already on his neck, putting light and delirious kisses there. He felt himself getting dizzy.

When he couldn’t hold back anymore, he quickly fished a condom inside his wallet and put it on, while Eleanor took off her leopard print coat and hanged it on somewhere safe. She bought that coat with her own money from her internship and it wasn’t exactly cheap.

Suddenly, he turned her back to him, his hands already on the waistband of her jeans, sliding it down, along with her underwear, just enough for him to have access of her. Ellie hid her face on the stall wall, muffling a gasp when he slid inside her. Damien had to bit her neck to hold a moan as he filled her slowly, letting her and himself get used to the sensation of their bodies connecting. Fuck, she was so tight.

“Uh, fuck…” - she cursed when he started pressing forward and deeper insistently, his big hands gripping on the soft flesh of her hips. Again, it felt both tender and passionate. How could he do it? Make it feel almost gentle when they were fucking in a stall? That man was something else. - “This feels so good…”

“Shh, they’re going to hear us…” - he whispered on her ear, his hot breath against her skin. It felt so damn good inside her.

Arching her back, they moved together, gradually speeding up their pace, trying to contain their moans, their bodies tensing, craving for more. Ellie squirmed when one of his hands was back to that sensitive spot between her legs, bringing her close to the edge, until she felt like her whole body exploded in a million pieces. Damien let out a low curse, feeling her sex throbbing, her walls tightening around him, until he couldn’t handle it anymore and hit his own climax too.

“Holy shit…” - she murmured, feeling his weight pressing her against the stall wall and his arms still all around her, holding her tight.

After their breaths and heat gradually slowed down, he discarded the used condom away, they pulled up their jeans, sharing mischievous grins, and she put her coat back on. When they walked out of the stall, sharing another kiss, the restroom was empty, thankfully.

“Is that drink offer still up?” - Ellie asked him as they returned to the saloon, hand in hand.

“I won’t buy you anything alcoholic.” - Damien stated. She laughed but agreed that a soda was good enough.

As they waited for their drinks - a coke for her and another shot of rum for him -, the girl noticed that she had several texts and voicemails from her cousin.

“Where the fuck are you?! I couldn’t understand a single thing you were trying to say!” - Eleanor shouted on her phone, over the noise of the bar.

“Ellie! I am out… outside like in the back, you know?” - her cousin was talking in a slower pace. Fuck, was she drunk? Although Nadia was old enough to drink, she was such a lightweight. She could get drunk with a single beer.

“Yeah, I know, the smoking area. Are you alone?”

“No… I found this super nice dude… and his friends…” - she heard chuckles and giggles on the back.

“Alright, wait for me, I’m going there.” - Eleanor shoved the phone inside her pocket. - “I gotta go.” - she told the man standing next to her, who watched the whole exchange attentively.

“Already? Is everything okay?” - Damien asked.

“I guess. My cousin is drunk, and this means that this is my cue to go before she does something stupid.” - she put a light kiss on his cheek. - “Tonight was lovely, Mr. Detective.” - she whispered playfully on his ear before turning and walking away hurriedly.

“Ellie, wait!” - he put the money on the counter and tried to follow her, but a mosh pit started all of sudden and he almost got caught in the middle of it.

And then, the girl with the leopard print coat simply vanished in the crowd.

“Ellie!” - Nadia waved at her, surrounded by some guys. - “C’mere!” - Eleanor didn’t like the way they looked at both of them. She momentarily wished she had brought Damien with her, but she could handle them just fine.

“Nadia, it’s time to go. The last train leaves soon.” - she said, pulling her cousin closer. - “Did you smoke?” - she asked, smelling the distinctly sweet scent on her cousin’s breath.

“Hey, calm down, baby! Why the hurry?” - the long haired guy she saw earlier with Nadia said, circling them. Ellie glared at him, her hand gripping harder on Nadia’s forearm. - “Brad, give her some pot! It will make you feel all good and chill, baby!”

“No, thanks, Brad.” - she hissed, pulling her cousin out of the circle. All of the dudes seemed intimidated by her and let the girls go anyway. Thankfully all of them were too stoned to try anything. - “Did they do something to you? Did you smoke?” - Nadia giggled as she was being dragged back into the bar by her cousin.

“Juuuust a little… and, uh, it felt so amazing for a while, you know?! I felt like I could dance through the whole night…!”

“Oh my God, Nadia, you know you’re a lightweight and genuinely thought it was a good idea to smoke pot?!” - Ellie frowned disapprovingly.

She scanned the saloon, her eyes searching for a certain Mr. Detective, but he was nowhere to be seen. She mentally cursed herself; she forgot to give him her number. Maybe she would find him on Facebook or whatever later. Though he didn’t look like the type of guy who had any account on any social media. Hm, maybe on the NYPD website?

They walked out of the bar, back to the Manhattan streets.

“You worry way too much, Ellie, I feel great! Oh, do you have something to drink? My throat feels so dry!” - Nadia kept mumbling before taking a look around them, totally lost, not recognising the streets they walked through. - “Ugh, where are we going?”

“Home. If we‘re lucky, we’ll be able to take the last train.”

“Oh, okay.” - she turned to look at her cousin. - “I’ve had so much fun tonight, we should definitely do this again! And bring Allen with us next time!” - Ellie thought that it was a good idea; Allen had always been more sensible than Nadia and, if he had been there with them that night, they both would probably have been able to stop her from doing something stupid. Eleanor definitely was missing her other cousin that moment. - “Omg, he’ll be so mad when he find out how much fun we had!” - Nadia laughed hysterically for a quick second before turning to face her younger cousin. - “You had fun, right?”

“Oh, yeah.” - Ellie said as they entered the nearest subway station, unable to hide a mischievous smile as she remembered of a certain broad shouldered figure, the taste of his super kissable lips and his warmth and weight pressing her against a wall...

“Omg, I know this look! You have to tell me everything!!!”

“Later. First, let’s get you home.”

Although Damien and Ellie looked for each other after that night, both their lives turned upside down little after - he volunteered to take the case of Leon Rolph and met Alana; and around that same time, she lost her mother - and the memories of each other and that punk rock show and the bar’s restroom small stall were long forgotten from their minds.

8 years later…

Eleanor Zhou is in her bedroom, surrounded by a box filled with her memories of college times. She knows she should be helping the hired private investigator - with whom she has developed a casual relationship - in her living room, but she’s been feeling a little gloom lately with thoughts of her best friend, Lucy James, marrying that colossal misogynist asshole that is Robert Zucko. So, Ellie is looking through old pictures she took with Lucy when they were students at Hartfeld.

The woman puts the album back into the box and finds an old sketchbook. She flips the pages filled with drawings one by one - her favorite hobby back then was drawing strangers on public transport - until she stops short at a specific page, her jaw dropping open as she recognised the eyes that are staring at her.  And then, memories flow back to her mind. Memories of a small stall, punk music, kisses that tasted like nicotine and the hickey left on her neck that lasted for days.

“Holy fucking shit!” - she murmurs when she sees the handsome and (now) very known face. - “D!” - the woman jumps and sprints out of her bedroom.

Damien Nazario’s eyes scan thoughtfully Northbridge map, marking all the places where Robert Zucko seems to have a connection. The private detective was hired by Eleanor to investigate the shady pub owner and has been working on this case for a month now, but little progress has been made.

“D!” - he hears Ellie shouting, walking towards him, grinning from cheek to cheek.

“Have you found any dirt on Zucko? Any new clues?” - she stops by his side.

“Actually, no. But I found this!” - he grabs the sketchbook she extends to him.

Damien sees a portrait of himself, but years younger, with less facial hair and no dark circles under his eyes. But it definitely is him. And then, memories flow back to his mind. Memories of a small stall, noisy punk music, muffled moans and a leopard print coat.

He looks up to the woman with a wide smile on her lips standing next to him.

“Holy mother of god. You’re the girl in the rock show.” - Eleanor giggles excitedly.

“Seriously, what are the odds?! I can’t believe we actually met like, what, eight years ago?!” - she laughs as she plops down on his lap. Damien’s arms are automatically around her, although his attention still is on the sketchbook in front of them. - “I remember I kept cursing myself for a whole month for not giving you my number. I tried to locate you, but as I suspected, you didn’t have a single account on any social media! I even searched through the NYPD website, but when I found out that there were more than 50,000 employees, I gave up.” - he chuckles softly. - “To be honest, I kept waiting for you to find me somehow, since you were a detective. But you never found me and I assumed that NYPD had terrible detectives.” - he turns to look back at her.

“Hey, this isn’t fair. I’ve just had been promoted and everything I knew about you was a nickname. And how would I know that you weren’t from New York? Even detectives need more information than that.” - she laughs loudly, throwing her head backwards and her arms around his shoulders. - “And I searched for you. I looked for a punk girl and her sketchbook on every train I entered for a couple of months after that night, but I eventually gave up too. And then, I got obsessed with work.” - he frowns as he reminds of that time.

Just a few months after that brief encounter with Ellie, Damien Nazario met Alana Kusuma, and his life changed forever. And then he met Allen and Nadia and that thing with those Matches from Eros happened… that punk rock show just seemed to have happened a lifetime ago and the girl with the leopard print coat became a “whatsername”.

Eleanor notices the sudden shadow covering D’s face. Probably it has something to do with that ‘dark time’ he passed through before meeting her cousins, that Nadia had told her about.

Gently, she cups his handsome face and kisses him softly.

“Well, you found me now.” - she smirks at him. - “Seriously, I can’t believe you’re that Mr. Hot Detective guy. My mom was right, life is a crazy ride.” - he chuckles.

“Yeah, it is.” - he agrees, taking the sketchbook again and admiring his portrait one more time. Ellie snuggles closer to his embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. - “I always wondered how that drawing turned out in the end.”

“And do you like it?” - he looks back at her, a wide grin on his lips.

“A lot, yeah.” - Damien says, before leaning in and kissing her sweetly, his lips lingering on hers. And Eleanor Zhou gets the same sensation she had all those years ago when he kissed her for the first time. How it felt both tender and passionate at the same time.

“...Maybe I should make another portrait of you…” - she murmurs, feeling his big and warm hands dangerously exploring her thighs, beneath her skirt, making her heart beat slightly faster. - “Later…”

“Yeah, later. What do you say we reminisce on what we did on that stall?” - Ellie can’t hold back a laugh.

“Hell no, that thing was too small and dirty! God, the things we do when we’re young and reckless.” - Damien chuckles as she turns to face him, still sitting on his lap. - “Here is good enough.” - she grins cheesily at him, already unbuttoning his shirt. He smirks back at her.

“I guess we can take a quick break from work.”

#the third park #damien nazario #damien x oc #perfect match #playchoices #perfect match au #perfect match fanfic #choices fanfic #playchoices fandom #choices fanfiction #playchoices fanfiction #ns*w

[justabigassnerd]

Accidents Happen

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 3,229

Warnings - car accident, mentions of concussion, injured ribs, hospitals, doctors, incorrect medical discussions, angst, fluff

Summary - after a minor car accident, you try to keep it from your dad, just for him to find out the moment you get to the hospital

A/N - hey y'all it's time for a new part of Hangman Junior! I hope y'all enjoy and once again I'm sorry for how long it's taking me to get out fics, the old motivation is really coming and going. anyways I won't ramble, as per y'all please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

After getting your driving licence, your dad and Bradley surprised you with a car of your own. It wasn’t anything magnificent, but it was yours and you were in love with it. Having your own car gave you some more freedom, and you loved getting to go on drives to clear your head sometimes.

One weekend, while your dad and Bradley were meeting with the Daggers to watch a football game at Javy’s house, you decided to go for a drive. It was a bright sunny day in Miramar, and you had your windows down as you listened to your music at a low volume as you took in the views of the place you were lucky enough to call home. As you pulled up to a red light, you drummed your fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of the song you were listening to as you hummed along too, eyes fixed on the bright red light ahead of you.

As you reached out to adjust your volume dial, a violent crash sent your car skidding forward a couple of meters as your head smacked the steering wheel and your seatbelt tightened around your ribs in an attempt to protect you. When you sat up, heart pounding in your chest, you looked in your rearview mirror, expecting to catch a glimpse of the person who rammed the back of your car but instead, you saw a blur of colour fly by your window indicating whoever had hit you was now fleeing the scene. As you watched the car drive away, you suddenly became conscious of the fact you were still in the middle of the road so you found a nearby car park and pulled into the first spot you could find to recover. As you sat in the car park, your adrenaline began to wear off and the pain started to kick in as the events of what had just happened sunk in. Your head felt like it was splitting in two, your side ached with every breath you took, and you felt nauseous. Panic began to grab at you as everything sank in. You were panicking because you got into an accident. You were panicking because you couldn’t call your dad because you knew how much he’d worry, and you didn’t want him getting upset or mad that you crashed your car. You fumbled for your phone, finding the contact of the one person who you knew wasn’t with your dad and Bradley which meant he could help you and not tell your dad. Pressing on the contact, you lift your phone to your ear and listen to each ring with bated breath.

“Hey, y/n/n.” You could practically hear Maverick’s smile as he picks up the phone and hearing him so happy made tears well in your eyes about how fast you were about to disappoint him.

“Mav, I need help.” Your teary voice wiped any smile that was on his face as he sat up from where he was lounging on the sofa, a seriousness coming over him as Penny watched the switch, concerned for what was going on.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Maverick asked worriedly, hearing you try and contain your tears.

“Promise you won’t tell my dad or Bradley?” What you said made Maverick all the more worried. He knew you were responsible enough to not get into serious trouble, but he also knew you panicked when something happened.

“I promise. Now tell me what’s wrong so I can help you.” Maverick says hurriedly, growing more worried for you by the second. After taking a shuddering breath, you tell Maverick everything that had happened. After hearing everything, Maverick was on his feet in seconds with Penny following after him.

“Okay, I’m going to come and get you and we’ll go to the hospital to get you checked over.” Maverick says calmly, gesturing for Penny to follow him which she does so, grabbing her car keys as she goes.

“I’m going to stay on the phone with you. Just tell me where you are, and we’ll be right there.” Maverick then says as he climbs into the passenger seat and Penny gets behind the wheel.

True to his word. Maverick stayed on the phone with you the whole time and when you saw Penny’s car pull up you could’ve cried even more. You climb out of the car haphazardly, nearly falling flat on your face as your vision swims and another wave of nausea strikes you.

“Whoa, easy there y/n.” Maverick says, steadying you easily, an arm wrapped around you as he glances over at Penny who’s inspecting the damage on the back of your car.

“Did this happen here?” Penny asks, crouching as she her hand ghosts over the damage done to the back of your car, missing you shake your head, but Maverick doesn’t.

“It happened in the road, and I figured moving was the best option, so I wasn’t blocking traffic.” You mumble, looking down at the floor as Maverick’s head turns to look at you so fast you were sure he cricked his neck in the process.

“You drove? y/n/n that’s not safe sweetheart.” Maverick scolds gently, feeling guilty for telling you off but not wanting you to do something like this again.

“I just didn’t want to be in the way.” You say quietly, as Maverick lets out a soft sigh, shoulder sagging as he exhales.

“If there’s ever a next time, which I hope there isn’t, you should stay put. You don’t know if you’re injured and moving around can disturb them or if you’ve injured your head, you could potentially pass out.” Maverick explains, never once sounding harsh or condescending.

“I’m going to call a tow truck and then we’ll get you to the hospital, okay?” Penny says, crossing to you and gaining your attention, making you nod, immediately regretting the action when yet another wave of nausea strikes you.

“Are you feeling okay?” Maverick asks worriedly, not missing the way your jaw clenched after you nodded your head.

“Just feel a bit nauseous and my ribs hurt a little but I’m fine I promise.” You insist, trying to downplay everything to prevent Maverick from getting any more worried than he already was. But Maverick was already worrying about you, especially with you admitting you’ve sustained some injuries. He knew you were downplaying everything and was willing the tow truck to get here as quickly as possible so he could take you to the hospital. Like some sort of miracle descended on him, the tow truck arrived in good time and the second your car was hauled off, you got into Penny’s car, and she began the drive to the hospital.

When you arrived at the hospital, Maverick kept an arm around you just in case despite your insistence that you were fine. You approached the receptionist who looked up at the three of you, waiting for you to speak.

“Hi, she got into a car accident, and she needs to be checked out.” Maverick says, pointing at you as the receptionist types on her computer.

“Name and description of injuries please.” She says simply, looking to you for an answer.

“y/n Seresin. I hit my head on the steering wheel and my ribs hurt too.” You say, glancing down at the floor to avoid anyone’s gaze.

“And are you two her parents?” The receptionist was now looking between Maverick and Penny, expecting an answer.

“No we’re not. We’re close friends of her parents though.” Penny explains, watching as the receptionist types away on her computer before looking back at her.

“Why don’t you go and wait in the waiting room, dear. I need to speak to these two.” The receptionist says with a gentle smile aimed at you as you nod shyly, watching as you head to the waiting room before turning back to Maverick and Penny.

“I will have to call her parents since you two are not immediate family. They’re not abroad, are they?” The receptionist states, pulling up your emergency contacts and finding Jake’s number.

“We understand. Her parents aren’t abroad no, you should be able to contact them easily.” Maverick explains, nodding at the receptionist’s words and watching as she picks up the phone, dialling Jake’s number and holding the phone up to her ear.

As Jake sat down after cheering a scored touchdown, he felt his phone vibrate and when he pulled it out of his pocket, he raised an eyebrow at the unknown number and got back onto his feet.

“I’m just going to step outside and take this, I’ll be back.” Jake says, holding his phone up and excusing himself to step out into Javy’s back garden for some privacy.

“Hello?” Jake says, accepting the call and lifting his phone up to his ear.

“Hello. Is this Lieutenant Commander Jake Seresin?” The voice on the other end of the line asks, making Jake a little concerned at the formality but kept his cool.

“Yes, this is. Who’s calling?” He asks, fighting the urge to pace along the patio to ease his nerves. When the person on the other end of the line introduces themself as a receptionist of the local hospital and Jake begins to feel his blood run cold.

“Your daughter, y/n Seresin has been in a car accident and has been brought to the hospital. She’s conscious and doesn’t have any major injuries but she’s currently waiting for a doctor to check her over.” The receptionist explained, and Jake swore he could’ve collapsed there and then, his free hand flew out to brace himself against one of the garden chairs that sat on Javy’s patio, keeping him upright as he processed what he was just told.

“I’ll head over now.” Is all Jake could manage to say, hanging up and making his way back into the house, a hand immediately digging in his pocket for the keys to his truck.

“I’m so sorry guys, I have to go.” Jake says, making his way into the living room to apologise for his early departure. A wave of joking complaints left his coworker's mouths, but Bradley saw the worry on his husband’s face and got up and crossed to him, gently taking Jake’s hand in his.

“What’s wrong, Jake?” Bradley asks quietly, his thumb ghosting along the back of Jake’s knuckles in an attempt to calm Jake.

“y/n’s in the hospital.” Jake manages to say, looking at Bradley as his concern levels rise.

“We’re going to the hospital right now.” Bradley says, glancing over his shoulder to say a quick goodbye to everyone before tugging Jake out of the house and taking the keys from his hand.

“I’ll drive.” Bradley says softly, knowing that no matter how much he may be panicking, it’s ten times worse for Jake and therefore puts him in no state to drive. Jake opened his mouth to argue but quickly closed it when Bradley just raised an eyebrow. Jake climbed into the passenger seat while Bradley got behind the wheel and began the drive to the hospital, both of them thinking about what state you were in.

When they got to the hospital, Jake was getting out of the truck as quick as humanly possible with Bradley hot on his heels as they both made their way into the hospital and approached the front desk.

“Hi, I got a call that my daughter y/n Seresin has been brought here after a car accident.” Jake says to the receptionist, noticing Bradley’s widened eyes out of the corner of his eye.

“Car accident?” Bradley asks in a whisper, immediately more concerned about your well-being.

“Oh yes, I believe a doctor just took her to be assessed so you’re free to wait in the waiting room and they’ll come and get you when they’re done.” The receptionist says, pointing in the direction of the waiting room and the two men head in the direction she pointed, entering the waiting room and immediately noticing Maverick and Penny.

“Mav?” Bradley questions as they lock eyes and Maverick leaps to his feet to cross to them.

“Hey, you two.” Maverick greets, trying to keep a calm tone while standing in front of the two panicking parents.

“What are you doing here?” Bradley then asked, confused as to why Maverick was in the hospital in the first place and as he asked the question it clicked into place for Jake.

“Mav, did you know our daughter was in hospital and didn’t call us?” Jake asks, his jaw clenching as he glares angrily at the man stood in front of him.

“She asked me not to tell you. If she was in a worse state, I would’ve absolutely called you without hesitation.” Maverick tries to explain, holding his hands up to try and keep the peace between them.

“You should’ve called me.” Jake says lowly, his usually bright eyes growing darker as his glare intensifies.

“I would’ve if the receptionist hadn’t beat me to it. I couldn’t call you in front of her and stress her out when she was hurt and upset. She didn’t tell me why she didn’t want you to know but you won’t get an answer out of her with that mood. You can be mad at me all you want but don’t you dare take any of it out on her.” Maverick says, his tone beginning to match Jake’s as Bradley decides to step in, aware of the looks they’re beginning to get in the waiting room.

“You two need to calm down and be civil.” He whispers to the two. He understood Jake’s anger towards Maverick, but he knew there was nothing to gain from causing an argument in the middle of a hospital waiting room. Jake broke the apparent staring contest between him and Maverick, clearing his throat with a cough before looking back at Maverick.

“She’s really not too badly hurt?” Jake asks as the three move to sit down alongside Penny.

“She’s been awake and alert the whole time. From what she’s told me I think she might have a slight concussion or something and some kind of injury to her ribs but I’m no doctor.” Maverick explains to Jake, not missing the way he lets out a small sigh of relief, but Maverick knew Jake would only be okay when he saw you with his own eyes.

“Thank you for getting her here. Both of you.” Jake then thanks both Maverick and Penny who immediately try to tell him not to thank them, insisting they’d do it anytime. Before another word could be spoken, a nurse comes into the waiting room and calls for your family and Jake and Bradley are on their feet in seconds, immediately crossing to the nurse and enquiring about your wellbeing.

“The doctor is with her now and he will explain everything, but we’ve had to admit y/n for the night just for observation.” The nurse explains as both Jake and Bradley nod, glancing back at Maverick who silently encourages them to go with the nurse with a soft smile before they look at the nurse and ask to be taken up to your room. The nurse leads the way up to your room and when they enter the room Jake and Bradley are relieved to see you sat up in bed a shy smile on your face when you see them.

“Oh, thank god.” Jake mutters, crossing to your side as quickly as possible and planting at least ten gentle kisses on top of your head.

“Dad, I’m fine.” You grumble, clearly embarrassed at the attention he is giving you, glancing over to Bradley for help.

“Jake, let's give her some space and listen to the doctor, shall we?” Bradley urges softly, taking a seat while Jake does the same, both of them looking to the doctor who clears his throat.

“y/n here has suffered a mild concussion from the accident, nothing too serious but we’ve admitted her for the night just to be on the safe side, and she’s also cracked a couple of ribs as well due to her seatbelt doing its job. We’ve administered pain relief so she should be okay but if there’s a sudden flare-up of pain or it seems the pain relief is wearing off you can press the call button and a nurse will see to her.” The doctor explains everything you’ve already been told to your parents and after getting confirmation that everything is okay, the doctor and nurse leave the room.

“Did Mav tell you?” You ask quietly, glancing down at the thin sheet covering you and fiddling with the corner.

“No, the hospital called me. Mav told me you asked him not to tell us.” Jake says gently, not an ounce of anger in his voice as he carefully takes your hand.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper, tears springing to your eyes while Bradley and Jake exchange a worried look.

“You don’t need to apologise, sweetheart. It’s okay.” Bradley reassures you softly, his gentle smile never once leaving his face as he speaks.

“But I got into an accident.” You mumble, briefly looking up at your dads before returning your attention to the corner of the sheet again.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened?” Bradley then suggested, gaining your attention and both men listened carefully as you explained that you were waiting at a red light and got rear-ended before the driver took off. You didn’t miss the joint sharp inhale that came from Bradley and Jake when you explained that you drove to the nearest car park to call Maverick.

“I’m sorry. I ruined my car. I’ll save up money to pay for it I swear.” You try apologising again after finishing your story.

“Sweetheart, we don’t care about the car.” Jake starts, being cut off by you shaking your head.

“No, I ruined it.” You insist, tears spilling down your cheeks.

“I don’t care about the car, I promise. A car is replaceable. You, however, are not. I’d much rather have to just get a whole new car than lose you, okay?” Jake says firmly yet softly, reaching out to gently wipe your tears away.

“Don’t worry about the car. We’ll get it fixed or get a new car if we need. We just care about you right now.” Bradley chimes in rounding the bed so he can sit on your other side, taking your other hand and running his thumb across the back of it.

“You just need to focus on resting up, okay?” Jake urges you softly, wiping the remainder of your tears off your face and smiling softly at you and Jake swore he could see the tension leaving your body after letting out a soft exhale.

As you relax back into your pillows, you let the relief sink in that your dads aren’t mad at you and grateful they care as much as they do about you. Despite that, your eyes flick between the two men, before your eyes flick up to the tv which when you had flipped through the channels had found nothing interesting and so left you to come up with a way to create your own entertainment using your dad’s.

“So… how was what you saw of the game? Eagles versus Cowboys, right?”

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[well-wail-whale]

The Devil in the White City: Synopsis and Summary of Nine H. H. Holmes Killings

The Devil in the White City is a fantastic crime non-fiction about America’s first serial killer Dr. Herman Webster Mudgett otherwise known as H. H. Holmes (one of his various aliases). The author, Erik Larson, traces the beginnings of Holmes, how he murdered people in his Chicago Murder Castle, and how he was captured because of his insurance fraud. If you’re into true crime, you’ve no doubt run into threads, books, or articles about Holmes. Larson’s book is just one of many that shed a light on the killer’s origins and heinous activities.

It’s necessary for me to share the most significant details of his research and reporting. Larson structures his book by splitting the storytelling between the life of Holmes and the creation of The World’s Columbian Exposition in 1893 led largely by the architect Daniel Burnham. The juiciest part of the book is when it talks about Holmes. The story of the world’s fair is that Burnham and a cadre of other architects had to build and design an entire fair within an impossible time frame in Chicago. They were plagued with setbacks, union strikes, and weather related disasters, but ultimately succeeded. Despite the loads of research that Larson put into retelling the story of the fair, the intrigue and mystique of Holmes steals the spotlight and had me rushing through the architecture sections. (Don’t get me wrong. Larson’s description of the actual fair is wonderful and eye-opening to the culture of the 1890s, but becomes repetitive.)

When the parts of Holmes appeared in the pages, they always left me wanting more. In fact, even at the end of the book I’m left craving more information about Holmes and his charming persona that helped him avoid suspicion for years. While he confessed to killing twenty-seven people, there are only nine confirmed killings according to Larson’s research. 

The book is also being adapted into a film by Martin Scorsese with Leonardio DiCaprio supposedly cast for Holmes. 

I’ve gone through the entire book and taken out direct quotes from people in that time period in regards to Holmes or the investigation of Holmes. It’s important to note that Larson is unique in his research in that he only relied on primary sources thus never used the internet. Everything he wrote can be traced back to a primary source from that era whether it’s an article blurb, court documents, or Holmes’ memoir. Though Larson wrote two passages in which he recreates the murders of two of Holmes’ victims. As thorough as his research is, it is purely speculative which is better way of saying fictitious since no one witnessed the murders first hand. Larson also tends to assume the thoughts and feelings of the historical figures he talks about. I avoided including pieces of information that fell to his speculative habit. Anything in quotation marks below can be traced to a primary source, otherwise it is me summarizing and paraphrasing the words of Larson from his book. 

Young Holmes and Miscellaneous Information

From Holmes’s confession in 1896: 

“I was born with the devil in me. I could not help the fact that I was a murderer no more than the poet can help the inspiration to sing”

Holmes’s main killing ground was Chicago during a time when naive young women came to the city in unprecedented numbers and from small towns with little understanding of city life.

There existed a place named the Whitechapel Club in Chicago, named after the same London slum where two years earlier Jack the Ripper committed his murders. The club’s decor involved a coffin in the center of the room used as a bar, skulls mounted on walls, a hangman's noose dangling from the wall along with bloodied weapons. The president of the club was known as the Ripper. The bloodied weapons were from actual homicides in the city provided by the Chicago police. A primitive version of a psychologist, an alienist, provided the skulls. The coffin in the center was used to transport the body of a former club member who committed suicide. The members of the club would kidnap celebrities and put them into a black coach with covered windows for fun.

One of Holmes’ signature childhood memories: he was taken by two older children and forced into a room with a real cadaver, something Holmes feared but overcame the moment he faced the corpse. This incident motivated him to pursue medicine as a profession. (A story Holmes claims is true.)

He was born in Gilmanton Academy, New Hampshire and considered himself “a mother’s boy”. His only close friend “was an older child named Tom, who was killed in a fall while the boys were playing in an abandoned house.”

Graduated from school at 16 and taught as a teacher in Gilmanton and later in Alton, NH. In Alton he met Clara A. Lovering. 

July 4, 1878: At age 18 Holmes asked her to elope and she agreed. Eventually Holmes would leave the home for long periods of time until he never returned, yet they remained on paper legally married. 

At 19 or 20 he enrolled at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor. During the summer of his junior year he became a traveling salesmen for a book publisher but kept all the profits of his sales.

Became a principal of a grade school in Mooers Forks, New York because the trustees were impressed by his “gentlemanly manners” and he stayed principal until he opened his own medical practice.

“In Mooers Forks there were rumors that a boy seen in his company had disappeared. Mudgett [Holmes] claimed the boy had returned to his own home in Massachusetts. No investigation took place.”

Around 1885 Holmes was desperate for money and resorted to a convoluted insurance fraud scheme that he brainstormed with a classmate during his time at medical school. His plan was to recruit other accomplices, then fake the death of a family of three and substitute the bodies with cadavers. Everyone would divide the $40,000 death benefit among one another (40k in 1880s was equal to about 1 million in the 21st century). Holmes and his helpers agreed to each provide their own stolen cadaver. Holmes allegedly stored bodies in New York in a “safe place” and in a warehouse in Chicago. He abandoned the plan after supposedly reading an article about how insurance companies detected fraud. However he lied about the article because at the time there was no way to identify “burned, dismembered, or otherwise disfigured corpses.” He also lied about being poor as alleged by the owner of the house that Holmes boarded at in Mooers Forks. The owner noted that Holmes “often displayed large sums of cash”.

He left Mooers Forks in the middle of the night, without paying his rent and moved to Philadelphia where he failed to work in a drugstore. He took a job as a “keeper” at the Norristown Asylum. 

He wrote that “My first experience with the insane persons, and so terrible was it that for years afterwards, even now sometimes, I see their faces in my sleep.”

When he finally did find a job at a Philadelphia drugstore, a child died shortly after taking medicine bought at that store. Holmes left the city immediately. 

Chicago, Mrs. Holton, and the Beginning of Holmes’ Englewood Castle

He moved to Chicago and because he couldn’t work as a druggist until he had a license he adopted the false name Holmes, a popular name in July 1886. Holmes lived in the Englewood suburb in Chicago which was a booming community. Residents of the suburb commonly attended meetings of the Masons and forty-five other secret societies.

He established himself in Chicago by visiting a drugstore called Holton Drugs and convinced an old Mrs. Holton to open up to him about her troubles (her husband was fatally ill) and explained that he could help the business thrive. After Mr. Holton died the widow Mrs. Holton agreed to hand over the deed to the drugstore to Holmes as she was convinced he could get the business to prosper and keep her on staff without the stress of running the pharmacy.

He took out loans on the business with high interest rates and renamed the drugstore H. H. Holmes Pharmacy. Supposedly young women visited the store more often once news broke that it was under management of a charming young man.

Long time customers knew the ownership changed but asked where Mrs. Holton went to because they had not seen her for a while. Holmes said that she left to visit relatives in California, something she could do with her newfound money and free time. Eventually Holmes altered the story and said that Mrs. Holton moved there permanently.

January 28, 1887: Though he was still married to Clara he courted another woman in Chicago named Myrta Z. Belknap from Minneapolis and married her.

Spring 1888: Holmes lived in the second floor apartment of the drugstore where the Holtons used to live. Myrta became pregnant. Myrta would help Holmes in the store and soon found the swarm of young women Holmes attracted annoying. Myrta eventually became jealous of Holmes’ flirtatious attitude with young women.

Myrta once said:  “In his home life I do not think there was ever a better man than my husband,” and that “he never spoke an unkind word to me, our little girl, or my mother.”

Holmes noticing his wife’s alert behavior decided to give her the job of managing the store’s books upstairs away from the customers. Out of sadness and a strained relationship, she moved back in with her parents in Wilmette, Illinois and gave birth to Lucy, Holmes’ daughter. 

Holmes visited Myrta sparingly, but was said to bring warmth and gifts to Myrta and her parents. It is said that Holmes adored kids so much that in public he’d ask Myrta, “Go and see if they won’t lend you that baby a little while,” during a train car ride. “He had them sound asleep or playing as happily as little ones can.”

Summer 1888: Holmes purchased a plot of land across from the drugstore, registering it under the false name H.S. Campbell. This is when he began sketching the designs of his future murder castle (pictured below).

At first the design was basic, storefronts on the first floor, apartments on the second and third floor. Included in the design was a wooden chute that descended from a hidden location on the 2nd floor all the way to the basement, a large airtight vault in his office with a gas jet built into his closet wall leading to the vault as would other gas jets be built into throughout various rooms. Some rooms were made airtight with no windows. To keep costs down he accused the workers of shoddy work, even if it was perfect, until he fired them or they quit. With a high turnover rate of builders few understood the complete purpose of the building. 

One man working for Holmes, George Bowman a bricklayer, was asked by Holmes if he’d “drop a stone on that fellow’s head while you’re at work and I’ll give you fifty dollars.” Holmes’s trivial tone unnerved Bowman. He did not take up the request and later quit.

Holmes recruited accomplices through the creation of his building. The most significant of which was Benjamin Pitezel (pictured above). When Pitezel was arrested for forging checks, Holmes bailed him out.

Holmes’ building was built in the same period as when Jack the Ripper began his killings in England. 

The first of Jack the Ripper’s murders occurred on August 31, 1888. The last on Nov. 9 1888. Holmes likely read articles about the killings.

May 1890: The building was almost finished. The second floor had 6 corridors, 35 rooms and 51 doors, the third floor had 3 dozen rooms. Holmes moved into his new building and sold his drugstore to a buyer assuring him that he would have little competition. Holmes then opened a drugstore on the first floor of his new building. Holmes invested into his building by purchasing furniture and fixtures on credit with no intention of paying the debt, relying on his charm and false aliases to evade creditors.

C. E. Davis, an employee of Holmes, said that he was “the smoothest man I ever saw.” He recounted that creditors would “come here raging and calling him all the names imaginable, and he would smile and talk to them and set up cigars and drinks and send them away seemingly his friends for life.”

Holmes could easily pay his debts as Davis estimated that he made up to $200,000 through his business. Additionally, Holmes engaged in fraudulent ventures such as selling a machine that turned water into natural gas. Holmes also engaged in mail-order medicines and sham medicines that supposedly cured alcoholism and baldness. 

Holmes used to purchase chloroform 9 to 10 times a week in large quantities from a druggist named Erickson. Holmes never gave a good answer about why he needed that much chloroform until Erickson refused to sell him the chemical unless Holmes explained. Holmes told him it was for scientific experiments. Later, when Erickson asked how the experiments were going, Holmes said he wasn’t conducting experiments. 

Holmes offered his laundress, a woman named Stowers, $6,000 if she took out a $10,000 life insurance policy and name him beneficiary. Holmes explained that he would make a $4,000 profit meanwhile Stowers could spend $6,000 anyway she liked. Stowers was about to accept the offer until Holmes said “Don’t be afraid of me.” She declined.

With the news of the Columbia World Exposition coming to Chicago, Holmes added additional construction into his building and formed it into a hotel to capitalize on tourists and victims. Holmes kept a good relation with police who patrolled the neighborhood during construction, offering them free meals, cigars, a cup of coffee, and his charm.

Myrta’s great-uncle Jonathan Belknap, whom Holmes discovered to be moderately wealthy, visited Myrta once. Holmes visited Myrta and her family more often. He built up enough respect with Jonathan to ask for a $2,500 loan to build a new house in Englewood. Jonathan was cautious of Holmes, but gave him the loan. Holmes forged a second note of the loan with the same amount that would go toward his hotel construction. 

Belknap was invited by Holmes to tour the hotel. He rejected the offer at first but accepted from pressure by the married couple. During the tour Holmes asked if Jonathan wanted to see the roof under construction. Belknap lied and said that he was too old to climb the steps. Holmes asked again by highlighting the wonderful view from the roof, Jonathan rejected again however he spent the night at the hotel. Sometime during the night Jonathan heard someone try to open his locked door. He then heard a key inserted into the keyhole and Jonathan called out to the strangers outside his door. He heard feet running down the hallway and believed two people had been at his door. When he called out again Patrick Quinlan answered, the caretaker of the hotel. Quinlan insisted on entering the room and Jonathan refused several times. Jonathan discovered Holmes’ forgery and confronted him. As usual Holmes was able to calm Jonathan’s anger though his mistrust remained alive.

Holmes had a man from a furnace company install a kiln in the empty basement that ran the length of the entire building. The man installed the furnace and noted that it wasn’t good for glass bending. It wasn’t until later that the man, who remained nameless, realized that the kiln worked better as a crematory.

Murder of Julia and Pearl Conner

Holmes hired several young women as clerks. One woman in the neighborhood said that the clerks would often leave without saying a word, sometimes leaving their personal belongings behind in their rooms.

A jeweler by the name of Ned Conner was hired by Holmes. He moved to Chicago with his wife Julia who Holmes also hired as a clerk. Later on Ned’s sister-in-law, Gertrude, moved to Chicago who Holmes also hired. Holmes charmed both of them. Julia became withdrawn from Ned as she developed affection for Holmes as did her sister Gertrude. Ned was ignored by all except his daughter Pearl. One night Holmes asked Ned to help test the vault. Holmes stepped inside and closed the vault and asked Ned if he could hear his shouts. Ned heard nothing. Then Holmes asked Ned if he’d step into the vault and shout as he did. Holmes closed the vault door and reopened it soonafter, Ned got out quickly.

Holmes would likely had been investigated sooner if Chicago wasn’t a city of missing persons altogether. At one point, half the police force was looking for missing people in the city. This was the perfect setting for Holmes’s murders.

One day Gertrude came crying to Ned telling him that she could no longer stay. She never told Ned why and she left for Iowa but fell ill and died soonafter. Ned was warned by his friends that his wife and Holmes were having an affair, but Ned did not believe it. Toward the end of Ned and Julia’s marriage Holmes offered Ned the entire sale of his pharmacy. To help Ned pay for it Holmes would raise Ned’s $12 weekly wage to $18 so that Ned could pay $6 a week to pay for the purchase of the store. Holmes would deduct the $6 from the salary so Ned wouldn’t have to worry. Ned accepted the deal. As Ned and Julia’s fights escalated, Holmes would tell Ned that their marriage was salvageable and that they would overcome their distance despite being the source of their marital rupture. He even told Ned that he should insure his life along with his daughter’s and that he’d pay for the premiums. Ned declined. Once the pharmacy was under Ned’s ownership creditors demanded payment of the store’s debts. It was part of Holmes’ plan to transfer the debt to Ned. The marriage exploded and Ned moved out, leaving Julia and Pearl in the hands of Holmes. Once they divorced Holmes lost interest in Julia and Pearl despite promising Julia that he would marry her.

November 1891:Julia tells Holmes that she’s pregnant and that Holmes must marry her. He agreed only to marry her if she aborted their child and that he would perform the abortion, supposedly a procedure he’s done before. He scheduled the abortion for Christmas Eve.

Before the abortion, Julia had a conversation with a neighboring apartment dweller, Mrs. Crowe. She helped Crowe decorate a Christmas tree meant to surprise Pearl in the morning. Julia talked about the things her and Holmes would do on Christmas with Pearl. Later on Crowe recalled that after Julia had left “there was nothing about her conversation that would lead any of us to think she intended going away that night.”

As mentioned earlier, there is no proof for how Julia or Pearl Conner was murdered, but this is how Larson speculates it happened. He believes Holmes killed Julia first with chloroform, then did the same to Pearl.

Throughout Christmas day Crowe and her husband hadn’t seen Julia or Pearl. When they asked Holmes he said that they left to Davenport, Iowa for a wedding earlier than expected.

Holmes had an associate, Charles Chappell, who knew how to strip the flesh from a body and produce a skeleton for doctor offices and medical schools.  At the time medical schools were in great need of cadavers to teach each incoming wave of students, so doctors and professionals would grave rob or purchase skeletons from any seller without asking questions.

After Christmas Holmes sold the body to Chappell for $36 for articulating (the process of preparing a body into a skeleton for demonstrative purposes), though it was partly dissected. Holmes received the female skeleton back then sold it to the Hahneman Medical College, the Chicago school.

January 1892: New tenants arrived, the Doyle Family, to the abandoned apartment that Julia and Pearl lived in. They asked Holmes about it and he said that Julia needed to tend to her ill sister so they abruptly left. Later on Holmes changed the story to say that he last saw her on January 1, 1892 when she came to settle her rent and that she told everyone she went to Iowa to mislead her husband from finding her.

The Murder of Emeline Cigrand 

Spring 1892: Holmes sent his assistant Benjamin Pitezel to the city of Dwight, Illinois in order to cure his alcoholism at the famous Keeley Institute. There they’d inject patients with an unknown concoction of red, white and blue liquid (nicknamed barber pole) in the arm three times a day. Holmes may have sent Pitezel there to collect information on the secret formula because later Holmes opened his own curative center on the second floor of his Englewood building and called it the Silver Ash Institute.

When Pitezel returned to Holmes he told him of a stunning stenographer, Emeline Cigrand, that worked at Dr. Keeley’s office. Holmes sent her a letter and hired her at twice the salary she made with Keeley. She accepted the offer and left in May and moved into a boardinghouse near Holmes’ building. One day Ned Conner returned in search of Holmes and met Emeline. He wasn’t in the office that day but the two talked about Holmes. Ned noticed how infatuated she was with him and warned her. “I told her I thought he was a bad lot and that she had better little to do with him and get away from him as soon as possible,” recalled Ned.

May 1st, 1892: Doctor M.B. Lawrence and his wife moved into an apartment in Holmes’ building where they often saw Emeline chatting frequently with Holmes. Lawrence has said, “I_t was not long before I became aware that the relations between Miss Cigrand and Mr. Holmes were not strictly of an employer and employee, but we felt that she was to be more pitied than blamed.” _

Emeline was deeply infatuated by Holmes. He pretended that he was an English Lord and confided the secret in her, which increased the aura of mystery around him.

October 1892: Her two cousins, Dr. B.J Cigrand and Mrs. B.J Cigrand visited her and toured Holmes’ Englewood building. They never saw Holmes during their visit however. After her cousins left Holmes asked Emeline to marry him, which she of course accepted and he promised her a honeymoon in Europe where they would visit his father, a lord.

December 1892: Emeline had a discussion with Mrs. Lawrence where she confessed her fading love for Holmes and that she planned to visit her family in Indiana. Lawrence believed that Emeline “had found out to a certain extent the real character of Holmes and determined to leave him.” Eventually Emeline stopped visiting Lawrence altogether with no goodbye. When she asked Holmes about her disappearance she recalls Holmes saying, “Oh, she’s gone away to get married.” Lawrence felt shocked at the news and replied, “I don’t see why she didn’t mention something to me about getting married.” Holmes claimed it was a secret between him, Emeline, and her betrothed. But her abrupt disappearance made no sense for Lawrence. Holmes handed Lawrence an envelope containing a wedding announcement. 

Holmes added, “some days after going away she returned for her mail and at this time gave me one of her wedding cards, and also two or three others for tenants in the building who were not then in their rooms; and in response to inquiries lately made I have learned that at least five persons in and about Lafayette, Ind., received such cards the post mark and her handwriting upon the envelope in which they were enclosed showing that she must have sent them herself after leaving my employ.” Emeline’s family and friends did receive copies of the announcement through the mail and it was addressed by Emeline herself. But it’s largely believed that Holmes forged the letters or tricked Emeline into preparing them herself.

Lawrence was not convinced by Holmes’ answers or by the letter. She pushed Holmes for more information on her betrothed and Holmes replied, “Oh, he is a fellow Miss Cigrand met somewhere. I do not know anything about him except that he is a traveling man.” Lawrence persisted in questioning Holmes about Emeline but he answered less and less. This caused her to note a change in Holmes’ behavior after Emeline’s disappearance. She remembered at “about 7 o'clock in the evening Holmes came out of his office and asked two men who were living in the building if they would not help him carry a trunk downstairs.” Holmes emphasized that they must be careful with the trunk as they moved it. An express wagon came to pick it up. By that point Lawrence believed Holmes had killed Emeline, but did not inform the police. Emeline’s parents didn’t alert police either, nor Ned Conner, nor Julia’s parents about their missing loved ones. Her parents did not believe she was murdered but that “She must have died in Europe and her husband either did not know our address or neglected to notify us,” said Peter Cigrand (her father). Emeline’s trunk, that she brought with her when she went to work in Dwight, arrived back to her hometown filled with her belongings.

December 8, 1982: Emeline’s hometown newspaper reported about the marriage. The item described Emeline as a “lady of refinement” who “possesses a character that is strong and pure. Her many friends feel that she has exercised good judgement in selecting a husband and will heartily congratulate her.” It even included a biographical detail that said she was employed as a stenographer and “she went to Dwight, and from there to Chicago, where she met her fate,” alluding to her marriage--not death.

January 2, 1893: Holmes called on the help of Chappell, the articulator, sending him a trunk containing the corpse of a woman to be stripped into a skeleton. A few weeks later LaSalle Medical College of Chicago received a skeleton.

In Holmes’ vault there lay a footprint etched on the inside of the vault door, two feet above the floor. The footprint was so clear there was little doubt that it was that of a woman’s. It was engraved so neatly and permanently into the vault door that water, soap, and cloth could not erase the mark. It’s believed that the footprint was that of Emeline’s herself and that Holmes used an acid on the floor to consume the oxygen in the vault and choke Emeline of air.

Early 1893: Letters from concerned parents of the disappearance of their daughters and private detective finally arrived for Holmes. However, they did not suspect him and asked for information that could lead to the missing women. The Cigrand and Conner families each hired private detectives to find their daughters.

The Murder of Minnie and Anna Williams

March 1893: Holmes needed a new secretary and there were plenty to pick in Chicago’s booming infrastructure due in part to the Chicago World’s Fair set for later that year. Holmes specifically chose to hire pretty, young, and naive women who were new to the city.

March 1893: Minnie R. Williams is hired by Holmes, a woman Holmes had met before in Boston and tried to court. Minnie was born in Mississippi and an orphan along with her sister, Anna. She was adopted by her guardian-uncle who lived in Texas and held an estate worth $50,000-$100,000 (worth 1.5-3 million in today’s currency). When he died while Minnie was enrolled at the Boston Academy of Elocution she inherited his estate. During his initial courtship of Minnie, Holmes had to travel all the way to Boston and tired of the distance. He dated her under the name Harry Gordon. Eventually he stopped sending letters and she was heartbroken. Minnie then graduated and moved to Denver where she tried to make her own theatrical company and lost $15,000 in the process. Minnie moved to Chicago on February 1893 and wrote to Holmes. Holmes and Minnie’s relationship resumed, Minnie as Holmes’ personal stenographer and living in the same Englewood building. As the love rekindled Holmes asked Minnie to marry him. Excited about their wondrous future together, Minnie wrote to her sister Anna who she kept a close correspondence with though Anna had doubts about Holmes’ authenticity. Just as Holmes promised Emeline, he promised Minnie a luxurious voyage to Europe, but that he first needed to settle some financial accounts.

Mid-March 1893: Holmes receives another letter from Peter Cigrand asking for help in finding Emeline. The letter was dated March 16th and Holmes responded on March 18 informing him that Emeline left her job there on Dec 1, 1892.

April 18, 1893: Minnie transfers her deed over to a man named Alexander Bond through Holmes’ persuasion. Bond then signed over the deed to Benton T. Lyman, which Holmes notarized. Alexander Bond was one of Holmes’ aliases. Lyman was an alias for Pitezel. Holmes duped Minnie out of her inheritance with the promise of a voyage, despite Holmes technically being still married to two other women, Clara Lovering and Myrta Belknap, with a child from each marriage. Afterward, Holmes established Campbell-Yates Manufacturing Company, described as a company that bought and sold everything. The five officers of the company were H.H. Holmes, M.R. Williams, A.S Yates, Hiram S. Campbell, and Henry Owens. Owens was a porter hired by Holmes. Campbell was the fictitious owner of the Englewood property. Yates was another fictitious name fabricated by Holmes. And M.R. Williams was Minnie. The company existed to hold all of Holmes’ assets.

Holmes convinced Owens to sign an affidavit that claims he had personally met with Yates and Campbell. Owens later said, “He induced me to make these statements by promising me my back wages and by his hypnotizing ways, and I candidly believe that he had a certain amount of influence over me. While I was with him I was always under his control.” 

Holmes had a discreet marriage ceremony with Minnie however no record of their marriage registry appeared in Cook County, Illinois. He likely held fraudulent ceremony.

Holmes knew that Anna was suspicious of him and invited her to Chicago to visit to quell her skepticisms. 

June 1, 1893: Minnie moves into the new apartment flat that Holmes arranged for them to live in far from the Englewood building. Holmes sought to reduce Minnie’s presence in the office as the guests began inhabiting the hotel. Holmes hotel guests mainly stayed in their rooms due to the absence of any common amenities that hotels had at the time such as libraries, game parlors, and writing rooms, nor a darkroom for amateur photographers known at the time as “Kodak Fiends”.

People disappeared from the hotel. A waitress vanished from Holmes’ restaurant with no explanation. A stenographer Jennie Thompson disappeared as did Evelyn Stewart who either worked for Holmes or stayed in his hotel. A male physician who was friends with Holmes also disappeared without a word. Inquiries over missing people continued from family and friends, but the police had yet been involved. In a footnote it is reported that about fifty missing people’s trail lead to the Englewood castle. It is unclear just how many fell victim to Holmes as his hotel was usually filled to capacity. 

Holmes’ MO: He preferred the use of chemicals with the close proximity of his victim. He’d either fill a room with gas via installed valves in the walls and kill the victim at a distance or he’d sneak into the room with a master key and used chloroform rags. He usually hired Chappell to articulate the bodies otherwise he got rid of bodies using his furnace in the basement and vats of acid.

When Anna arrived she quickly fell for Holmes’ charm and even called him “Brother Harry” after some time. He invited her to stay for the summer and join them on their trip abroad. Anna wrote to have her trunk delivered to Minnie’s apartment. As they prepared for their departure Holmes had Minnie ready the flat for the next tenants and went to the Englewood hotel to give Anna a tour of the building alone together. The other theory is that he just asked for clerical help from Anna while Minnie readied the flat. It is speculated that Holmes killed both Minnie and Anna inside the vault according to police reports and the understanding of Holmes psyche. However there is no true way to tell. The Devil in the White City speculates that Holmes locked Anna in the vault first, gassed her, then did the same with Minnie afterward.

July 7, 1893: The Oker family receives a letter from Henry Gordon (Holmes) stating that he will not be residing in that apartment anymore. Lora Oker checked the flat and said, “I do not know how they got out of the house, but there were evidences of hasty packing, a few books and odds and ends being left lying about. If there had been any writing the books all traces were removed, for the fly leaves had been torn out.”

July 7, 1983: A Wells-Fargo agent tries to deliver a trunk for Anna but is returned to the office because neither Williams or Gordon is located. No one claims the trunk.

Holmes contacted an Englewood resident named Cephas Humphrey, who worked delivering and transporting furniture. He asked Cephas to come after dark to pick up a box because he did not “care to have the neighbors see it go away.” Humphrey arrives but the Englewood castle gave him bad vibes. “It made my flesh creep to go in there. I felt as if something was wrong, but Mr. Holmes did not give me much time to think about that.” In total Cephas delivered two boxes: a rectangular wooden box the size of a coffin to be picked up by an express agent at the Union Depot and a trunk that was believed to be sent to the home of Chappell. Later Holmes gave Pitezel’s wife a “collection of dresses, several pairs of shoes, and some hats that belonged to his cousin, a Miss Minnie Williams.” He gave his caretaker, Pat Quinlan, two trunks each with the initials MRW.

Georgiana Yoke and Holmes on the Run

Holmes took up with yet another woman, Georgiana Yoke, young, blonde and enchanted by his persona. He asked her to marry him on the condition that she refer to him as Henry Mansfield Howard. The name was supposedly that of his uncle who left him a Texas estate on the promise that Holmes adopt the name. Georgina would likely have been Holmes’ next victim were it not for the persistence of creditors and investigators.

The scrutiny toward Holmes escalated by both creditors and families investigating the disappearance of their loved ones. It was time for him to leave and so he set the top floor of his hotel on fire and filed a claim for $6,000 from a policy he registered for under the name Hiram S. Campbell. An investigator from the insurance company F.G. Cowie was suspicious but could not find proof of the self-sabotage. He told the company to only pay out the money if Campbell showed up in person. Cowie knew how Holmes looked so Holmes could not pretend to be Campbell. He’d likely hire someone to pose as Campbell, but it was risky considering the pressure around him.

The guardians of Minnie Williams hired an attorney, William Capp, to search for Minnie and protect her inherited estate. Anna’s guardian, a reverend by the name of Dr. Black hired a P.I. to visit Holmes and letters persisted from the Cigrands and Smythes and others. Holmes was not accused of anything yet, but eyes were drawn toward him and his hotel of horrors.

Cowie’s pursuit of Holmes generated a greater effect. They bridged communications between all the creditors and businesses that Holmes owed a debt too. Furniture dealers, iron suppliers, bicycle manufacturers, and contractors that Holmes had scammed throughout the last few years all became aware of one another. Together they hired an attorney, George B. Chamberlin who was originally hired to pursue Holmes for never paying the urnace (which he used to dispose of bodies). Chamberlin later claimed to be the first person to suspect Holmes of criminal behavior.

Fall 1893: Holmes was contacted by Chamberlin for a meeting, believing it to be 1-on-1, Holmes accepted, likely hoping to sway him with his signature manipulation. When he arrived, two dozen creditors, attorneys, and a police detective were waiting for him. According to the book, Holmes was not fazed or disturbed by their plot. He shook the hands of each man he owed a debt to and stayed level-headed. Chamberlin told Holmes that he owed $50,000 altogether. Holmes put on a facade to garner empathy and explained his large debt. He cooled the anger of the men in the room and even received nods of sympathy. Holmes offered to settle his debt by offering a mortgage to the group secured by the properties he owned. One lawyer suggested that they accept the deal though Chamberlin laughed at the offer. They deliberated and told Holmes to wait in the adjacent room and he obliged them. The attorney who wanted to accept Holmes’ offer entered the room where Holmes waited, supposedly for a drink of water. They supposedly also talked, of what, no one is sure. When the attorney returned with the rest of the creditors, attorneys, and police man, Holmes left. It is believed that Holmes knew that the group was leaning toward arrest again and that the attorney aided in giving him this information.

Holmes left for Fort Worth, Texas where the estate he stole for Minnie resided. He intended to build another murder castle like the one in Englewood. He brought his loyal assistant, Pitezel, and his current wife, Georgiana Yoke. Before he left, Holmes had Pitezel buy a life insurance policy of $10,000 from the Fidelity Mutual Life association of Philadelphia.

Detective Frank Geyer and the Missing Pitezel Children

Hundreds went missing in the city of Chicago during the time of the World’s Fair. The amount who were victim to Holmes’ Hotel is unknown to this day, but the truth of his murderous streak was revealed by the persistence of Detective Frank Geyer (pictured below). Frank Geyer was a Philadelphia detective, one of the top in the city who investigated over two hundred homicides in his career before he pursued Holmes.

June 1895: Holmes was finally in custody. Leading up to his arrest he traveled from Texas to St. Louis, then Philadelphia scamming along the way with Pitezel. Holmes collected a $10,000 life insurance policy by faking the death of his associate Pitezel. The insurance company hired the Pinkerton National Detective Agency (known as the Eye That Never Sleeps) to investigate Holmes. They trailed him all the way to Burlington, Vermont, followed him to Boston and had arrested him there.  Holmes confessed to fraud and agreed to be extradited to Philadelphia for a trial. The case was closing until evidence emerged that Holmes did not fake Pitezel’s death but actually killed him, but made the scene seem faked. Three of Pitezel’s five children, Alice, Nellie, and Howard were missing, last seen with Holmes. This is where Frank Geyer picked up the case, though Holmes was already in custody. He was to find the missing children. (Pictured below: Alice)

When Frank interrogated Holmes, Holmes said that the children were with Minnie Williams headed for Pitezel’s hideout. The detective saw through Holmes’ deceptive personality. Holmes claimed that he found a corpse matching Pitezel’s description in which he used to falsely claim the life insurance policy. He rented out a house, that was conveniently located behind the city morgue, poured a liquid on the body, and set it on fire. The corpse was far too combusted to be recognized. Pitezel’s wife, Carrie, was too ill to come to Philadelphia to identify the body so she sent her daughter, Alice, who was 15 at the time. She only saw the teeth of the body, but felt confident that it was her father’s. Holmes then traveled to St. Louis where Pitezel’s family was and convinced Carrie to let him take two more of her children to see their father that allegedly in hiding. He took, Nellie, 11, Howard, 8, and Alice with him. Holmes allowed the children to write letters back to Carrie to update her on their travels, though he never sent letters. He stored all the letters in a tin box that officials discovered after his arrest. (pictured below: Nellie)

September 20, 1894: Alice writes, “I don’t like him to call me babe and child and dear and all such trash.” The next day, “Mamma have you ever seen or tasted a red banana?I have had three. They are so big that I can just reach around it and have my thumb and next finger just tutch.”  Alice worried for her mother and finally wrote, “Have you gotten four letters from me besides this?  Are you sick in bed yet or are you up? I wish that I could hear from you?”

Mrs. Pitezel was told that her children were with Minnie in London England. Scotland Yard found no trace of them there.

June 26, 1895: The letters confirmed that the children were with Holmes and that their first stop after leaving St.Louis was in Cincinnati.

June 27, 1985: Frank arrives in Cincinnati with little hope that he would find any trail leading to the missing children.

With the help of another detective, John Schnooks, Frank recreated the journey the children took. They visited every hotel near the railroad stations, inquiring about the registrations and carrying photos of the children and Holmes to see if anyone could identify them. This was almost a half of year after the children had been last seen or heard from. At the Atlantic House Hotel their determination paid off. They flipped through the registry booklet to September 28, 1984, the date they believed he arrived in Cincinnati and found the name Alex E. Cook, a guest traveling with three children. Holmes had used the name to rent a house in Vermont and the writing seemed familiar to Holmes’. The Cook party stayed one night, but Frank knew that the girls stayed two nights in Cincinnati according to the letters.

At another hotel, The Bristol, a party by the name of A. E. Cook registered at the hotel on September 29, 1894 with three children too.The clerk confirmed the party by photographs too and said they checked out the next morning September 28, 1894, coinciding with the children’s letters.

Holmes’ prior property rental pattern led Frank to inquire about rentals in Cincinnati. The realty office of J.C. Thomas confirmed the identity of Holmes by the clerk and Thomas himself. They told Frank he rented a house on 305 Poplar Street under the name of A.C.Hayes, making a substantial advanced payment, holding the home for two days. They suggested Frank contact Henrietta Hill the next door neighbor to the house. Henrietta noticed that on September 29 a furniture wagon stopped in front of the rental house. A man and a boy came out of the wagon and the only piece of furniture in the wagon was an iron stove too large for a private house. Holmes stopped by the next morning to tell Henrietta that he would not stay after all and offered her the stove.

Frank then moved onto Indianapolis as the letters suggested. Frank recruited another detective partner, David Richards. In one of Nellie’s letters she wrote, “We are at English H.” Frank knew which hotel that referred to: The Hotel English.

Frank found an entry for three Canning children, Carrie Pitezel’s maiden name, on September 30, 1984. But the children checked out the next day on October 1, 1984. Frank knew based off the letters that they stayed in the city. The same pattern that Frank discovered in Cincinnati was playing itself out in Indianapolis and he conducted the same search.

At the Circle Park Hotel he discovered an entry for Georgiana Howard, Howard, a common alias for Holmes. It turned out that Holmes directed his latest wife Georgiana Holmes to stay at the Circle Park for four nights beginning on September 30. The hotel’s proprietor recognized the photographs of Holmes and Yoke and revealed that she had befriended Yoke who told her that her husband, “Mr. Howard” was wealthy and held an estate in Texas. However there was no mention of children. Holmes managed to check the children into a different hotel without letting his wife know presumably. On a second search of hotels, Frank tracked down a closed down hotel called the Circle House, found the former registry and found that on October 1, 1895 three Canning children were checked into the hotel. It also noted that the children were all from Galva, IL, the hometown of Mrs. Pitezel. Frank tracked down the former hotel manager Herman Ackelow and confirmed Holmes’ identity. Herman recognized Holmes, but moreso the children.

The letters Frank had retrieved from Holmes offered an insight into the dwindling conditions of the children, especially Alice who wrote on October 6 to her mother, “And I expect this Sunday will pass away slower than I don’t know what….Why don’t you write to me. I have not got a letter from you since I have been away and it will be three weeks day after tomorrow.”

Holmes allowed one letter of their mother to reach them to which Alice responded quickly (Holmes never sent this letter either). Alice wrote, “One morning Mr. H told me to tell Howard to stay in the next morning that he wanted him and he would come and get him and take him out.” But when Holmes came for him, the boy was nowhere to be found which angered Holmes.

Alice also wrote about happy moments that Holmes allowed them: “Yesterday we had mashed potatoes, grapes, chicken glass of milk each ice cream each a big sauce dish full awful good too lemon pie cake don’t you think that is pretty good.”

Herman, the hotel manager, recalled that when he sent his son to call them for their meals that he’d overhear them crying. He also recalled Holmes saying that “Howard was a very bad boy and that he was trying to place him in some institution, or bind him out to some farmer, as he wanted to get rid of the responsibility of looking after him.”

The detective observed that while it was Holmes’ objective to murder the children, he nonetheless bought them each a crystal pen, taken them to the Cincinnati Zoo and given them lemon pie and ice cream, all of which was contrary to the behavior he’d expect from a serial killer.

Frank left to Chicago and contacted the police force, by then the police still had no information on Holmes. He then moved onto Detroit the last location Alice’s letter was dated from. 

With the help of another detective Frank executed the same searches he had in Cincinnati and Indianapolis. Frank discovered the same registry of Yoke and Holmes, the children, and the surprising registry of Carrie Pitezel and her two other children. Holmes was moving three parties all at once and each party was not aware of the others nearby. It was the closest the children had been with their mother since they left with Holmes. Holmes had the children and Carrie placed in hotels only three blocks apart.

Oct 14, 1895: Alice’s final letter to her grandparents, the same day Mrs. Pitezel, Dessie, and baby Wharton checked into Geis’s Hotel. Alice wrote that her and Nellie had colds and that Holmes did not provide warm clothing for the cold weather forcing them to stay in their room all day. She wrote: “I wish I could see you all. I am getting so homesick that I don’t know what to do. I suppose Wharton walks by this time don’t he I would like to have him here he would pass away the time a goodeal.” Her mother was only 10 minutes walking distance away for the next five days. One final phrase stuck out for Frank that Alice included in her letter, “Howard is not with us now.” Holmes had murdered Howard before arriving to Detroit. (Pictured below: Howard)

Holmes, during his incarceration, said, “The great humiliation of feeling that I am a prisoner is killing me far more than any other other discomforts I have to endure.” In his jail cell he was given a writing table where he wrote his memoir filled with lies, half-truths, and inconsistencies.

He also wrote in his memoir about his innonce: 

An exerpt from the letter Holmes wrote to Mrs. Pitezel claiming that the children were still alive: 

July 7, 1895: Frank moves onto Toronto assisted by Detective Alf Cuddy. He found that Holmes was still moving three parties with no knowledge of the other within the city. Holmes and Yoke stayed at Walker House as G.Hose and wife, Columbus. Mrs. Pitezel at the Union House as Mrs. C.A. Adams and daughter, Columbus. The third party now had one sibling missing. It was just girls at Albio as Alice and Nellie Canning, Detroit. They again canvassed the city’s real estate for Holmes rental pattern. On July 15, 1895 Frank and Cuddy received a tip from a resident named Thomas Ryves who read about Holmes in the newspaper in October 1894 who rented a house next door to him.

Throughout his investigation the newspaper reported on Frank’s journey through the midwest and little by little he became a celebrity among the U.S. People read updates about Frank every day, especially since the crime Holmes committed during the time were the first of their kind to be exposed on a national level, even to Frank it did not fit the hundreds of murder cases he investigated before.

When both detectives talked to Thomas Ryves he told them that Holmes caught his attention because he arrived at this rental with only a mattress, an old bed, and an unusually large trunk. Holmes asked Ryves if he could borrow a shovel to bury potatoes in his cellar. He returned the shovel the next morning, the next day he left with the trunk and was never seen by Ryves again. Frank confirmed the ID of Holmes with the realtor, returned to Ryves and asked to borrow the shovel (the very same shovel Holmes buried the girls with)

The home had a new tenant, a lady by the name of Mrs. J. Armbrust. Frank introduced himself and explained the situation. She let them in and they went straight to the cellar. Frank and Cuddy touched the ground with the spade and found a soft spot in the southwest corner of the cellar. They dug and at three feet they discovered a human bone.They had the help of an undertaker, B.D. Humphrey to help recover the remains. Coffins arrived and were set in the kitchen above the cellar. The bones of Alice and Nellie were uncovered. Both bodies were in a decomposed state and tough to remove. They noted that Nellie’s feet were missing, Holmes likely removed her foot because it held a distinct feature as it was a clubbed foot. Mrs. Pitezel was given the news by newspaper and left Toronto by train. She identified both bodies as those of her daughters when she arrived at the morgue, with the assistants tried to hide the grotesque nature of the corpse. 

There were no signs of violence on the corpses aside from the cut off feet belonging to Nellie. The police theorized that Holmes stuck both children in the trunk and choked them with gas. When the trunk was found, there was a little hole in the side of the box with a makeshift patch. If Frank had never been sent on his investigation, these murders could have gone unfounded.

The discovery of the bodies was reported in the newspaper. When Holmes read it he wrote in his memoir that he believed Minnie Williams killed the children with the help of an associate called ‘Hatch'. When interrogated at the DA’s office, he refused to talk and accused Minnie and Hatch of killing Howard. Holmes finished up his memoir and found a publisher through a journalist, John King. He instructed the journalist on how to approach marketing the book and even suggested that when he travels to market the book to go to Chicago and collect proof from his hotel that Minnie stayed there long after her supposed murder via affidavits.

July 24, 1895: Frank returns to Indianapolis where he believes the remains of Howard are buried. He called on the press for tips from the public but those mostly led to nothing. On July 19, 1895 police in Chicago began searching inside Holmes Englewood castle. 

In the basement they found a vat of acid with eight ribs and part of the skull at the bottom, piles of quicklime, a large furnace, and a dissection table stained with blood, surgical tools, and heeled shoes. They found eighteen ribs from the body of a child, several vertebrae, a bone from a foot, one shoulder blade, and one hip socket. They found clothes from walls and in the dust of ash, a girl’s dress among them and blood stained overalls. They also found two buried vaults full of quicklime and human remains, believed to belong to Minnie and Anna. In the ash of a stove they discovered a chain that resembled one that Minnie was given by Holmes corroborated by a jeweler in Holmes’ pharmacy. They found a chamber beneath the massive cellar in the southwest corner. Holmes’ former associate Chappell helped police find it and cooperated with them in retrieving four skeletons he articulated for Holmes.

The uncovered child skeleton was not that of Howard though. An inspector ruled it to be a girl’s skeleton and believed it was Pearl Conner’s.

On August 7, 1895 Frank and an insurance investigator from Fidelity Mutual, W.E. Gary set out on another wave of canvasses in Chicago, Indiana, Logansport, Peru, Montpelier Junction, Ohio, and Adrian,Michigan. They searched the records of every hotel, boardinghouse, and real estate office to no fruition. He returned to Indianapolis for the third time on a hunch.

August 19, 1895: Holmes’s Englewood castle burned to the ground; no one was arrested for the arson.

August 27, 1985: With the help of the insurance inspector, Frank investigated over 900 tips leading them to small towns outside of Indianapolis. Irvington was the final town Frank canvassed. Both arrived and went to the real estate office of Mr. Brown, who recognized Holmes’ photograph because Holmes demanded the keys to a rental house in a disrespectful manner. Through a court procedure it was later revealed that Holmes was aided by a man named Elvet Moorman in setting up a woodstove in the rental. When Elvet asked why Holmes didn’t use a gas stove instead he replied that “he did not think gas was healthy for children.” The owner of a repair shop in the city testified that Holmes came into the store on Oct 3, 1894 with surgical instruments to be sharpened and came three days later to pick it up. Frank would go on to testify that in the chimney ash that extended from the cellar to roof he found teeth, a jaw fragment, and a “charred mass” containing a stomach, liver, and spleen burned by the chimney fire but too compacted to burn thoroughly. Mrs. Pitezel identified the charred remains which contained Howard’s overcoat, scarf pin, and a crochet needle belonging to his sister Alice. Finally the coroner showed her a toy that Frank found in the house. It was the toy of a tin man that Mrs. Pitezel loaded into the children’s trunk before they set off.

Conviction and Hanging of H. H. Holmes

September 12, 1895: A grand jury voted to indict Holmes for the murder of Benjamin Pitezel. Two witnesses presented evidence, L.G. Fouse, president of Fidelity Mutual Life, and Det. Frank Geyer. Throughout the trial Holmes continued to accuse Minnie Williams of killing the children with the help of 'Hatch’. The Indianapolis grand jury indicted him for the murder of Howard Pitezel and Toronto for the murders of Alice and Nellie. Holmes received the death sentence from Philadelphia.

Chicago policed had no inkling of Holmes’ activity and in fact their chief of police represented Holmes in commercial lawsuits in his prior legal career.

The Chicago Times-Herald wrote: “He is a prodigy of wickedness, a human demon, a being so unthinkable that no novelist would dare to invent such a character. The story, too, tends to illustrate the end of the century.”

Fall 1895: Holmes went on trial for the murder of Mr. Pitezel. DA George Graham planned to use 35 witnesses connecting all the evil deeds, but the court ruled he can only bring forth witnesses in regards to Pitezel’s death. During the trial, Graham brought a wart that Holmes removed from Pitezel’s corpse and a box containing Pitezel’s skull. Gruesome testimonies ensued over the decomposition and the use of chloroform on a post-mortem body. 

At one point Holmes suggested that the court “be adjourned for sufficient time for lunch.” Holmes reportedly showed no emotion during the trial even when Mrs. Pitezel came to the stand to testify on the letters that her kids wrote that were not revealed to her--until the very moment she testified. Holmes was found guilty. His attorney appealed and lost.

Holmes wrote another confession in which he claims to have murdered 27 people but was incongruous since some he claimed to kill turned out to be alive after all. The only certainty is that Holmes killed 9 people: Julia and Pearl Conner, Emeline Cigrand, the Williams sisters, and Pitezel and three of his children. Estimates range from as far as 200, though that famous number is believed to be exaggerated, and above 9.

Holmes also wrote: “I am convinced that since my imprisonment I have changed woefully and gruesomely from what I was formerly in feature and figure….My head and face are gradually assuming an elongated shape. I believe fully that I am growing up to resemble the devil--the similitude is almost completed.”

He described his killing of Alice and Nellie in a large trunk with an opening on its top: “Here I left them until I could return and at my leisure kill them. At 5 p.m. I borrowed a spade of a neighbor and at the same time called on Mrs. Pitezel at her hotel. I then returned to my hotel and ate my dinner, and at 7:00 p.m. I again returned to the house where the children were imprisoned, and ended their lives by connecting the gas with the trunk, then came the opening of the trunk and the viewing of their little blackened and distorted faces, then the digging of their shallow graves in the basement of the house.”

Of Pitezel he wrote: “I will be understood that from the first hour of our acquaintance, even before I knew he had a family who would later afford me additional victims for gratification of my blood-thirstiness, I intended to kill him.”

The Wistar Institute in Philadelphia wanted Holmes’ brain for examination. Holmes refused the autopsy and instructed his lawyers on how to bury his body.

May 7, 1896: Before 10 a.m. Holmes ate a breakfast of boiled eggs, dry toast, and coffee and later was escorted to the gallows at Moyamensing Prison. As Richardson, the assistant superintendent, prepared the noose, Holmes turned and said, “Take your time, old man.” At 10:13 a.m. the floor trap was released and Holmes was hanged. 

From the instructions he left, his coffin was filled with cement, his body placed inside, filled it with more cement and taken to the Holy Cross Cemetery a catholic burial ground south of Philadelphia. His body was taken to the cemetery’s central vault, the next day workers made a double grave and filled it with cement too before inserting Holmes’ coffin, placing more cement on top before closing it, his grave left unmarked. All to prevent anyone from tampering with his body.

Strange things supposedly happened surrounding Holmes’ case: Frank became seriously ill, warden of the Moyamensing prison committed suicide. A jury foreman was electrocuted in a freak accident. The priest who delivered Holmes’ last rites was found dead on the ground of his church of mysterious causes. The father of Emeline Cigrand was grotesquely burned in a boiler explosion. And a fire destroyed the office of DA George Graham, leaving only a photo of Holmes unscathed.

#h.h. holmes #devil in the white city #true crime #serial killer #horror #leonardo dicaprio

[wastelandpizzas]

Walls: pt. 1

As we continue the journey through the personal take of SS Shaun Park Sr. And his attempt to find his son, We find the General of the Minutemen at headquarters in Fort Independence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, Perkins, Garvey, on three!”

“One… Two… Three!!!” With one last shove we finished getting the last piece of the new, albeit temporary, north wall into place. It had been a grueling days work- though we had been restless from two days worth of waiting. The timbers from the thickets near Sanctuary had just arrived before dawn after a couple days worth of logging and cutting before Preston and I had even thought to head down to the Castle. The caravaneers had a hell of a time trying to manage the three Brahmin it took to haul enough lumber to do anything with. Being that the Commonwealth was, well, for lack of a better description, the Commonwealth, I was shocked to hear that Raiders, Gunners, and even Super Mutants stayed away from the caravan. It wasn’t everyday that a twelve man caravan went tromping through the Commonwealth, and much less frequent that it had a significant guard and still made it to its destination unscathed. One Brahmin master, two hands, and nine Minutemen, two of which were two of the same party from our raid on the Corvega plant earlier last month after another small group of raiders tried to hole themselves up in the old factory.

Preston had been on watch since three that morning looking for signs of our supply caravan on the south road and his face, since lunch, showed it. When they finally arrived, we had them use what cement we had salvaged from the breaking up the rubble over the entrance to the Castle’s tunnels to lay a foundation for the barracks and while the cement dried we started laying whole blocks along the edge of the wall and began to mortar them around the foundation. We had worked on putting up the wall frames for a couple hours after the cement hardened, and we were ready for a break. The two other weary Minuteman plopped down onto the ruined stone blocks off inside the fort, and after a quick look over the day’s work I joined them.

“Well, you really did mean that the walls needed work, didn’t you, General.” Preston took a long draught from his canteen before getting his words out.

“I did say that, didn’t I,” I followed Preston’s example and sat down to take a long breather. We finally had a wall set up on our northeast portion of the old star fort, the most vulnerable face to the greenskins over at the old Gwinnett pub. If I played the caravaneers right The Castle would have a new stone, or at least cement, wall to provide as a more permanent repair than the improvised barracks that our third builder, Captain Vern Perkins, brought to that rank after taking the killing shot of the Mirelurk Queen that had decided our headquarters looked as good a place as any to settle down, had planned to set up. We had plans to clear the rubble from the Northeast Bastion’s tunnel entry and try to cut a tunnel and new quarters when we had everything finished up, but that was arguably another year or two away. It took quite a bit of sweet talking, and frankly caps out the ass, but that nerve Mirna had finally agreed to set aside any cement or salvaged stone that her junkers and suppliers brought in to the city, 2500 caps upfront and 150 for each of the days she shipped more than 50 pounds our way. Cement, bricks and stone in Diamond City came at a premium given the state of the Fens after 211 years of direpair.

To make a long story short. the Minutemen were on the way to recovery. It had been nearly a year and a half since Quincy and since I had left the Vault. To say the least, we had what had once been the Northern suburbs of Boston aiding, enlisting, and paying into the Minutemen. It was something; we had a crew of 12 Regulars running active patrols around Sanctuary and the trading post and market at Starlight Drive-In which was only possible because 4 of those patrol men had cleared the Mole-rats living there once we had established Sanctuary as the main hub of the Minutemen north of Cambridge and Boston-proper, not to mention mounting support in the Fens. Hell we even had some a few Minutemen vets sent our way from somebody called Hancock over in Scollay Square. Though I hear it’s called Goodneighbor now, when I listen to the boys talk about it.​

I must have been daydreaming at that point, because Preston’s hand clapping on my shoulder brought me back to.

“General, do think we’re done for today?”

“I’m not sure, Preston,” I started. Noticing Vern had made his way back to the radio tower for a minute, I called at him,

“Perkins, what’s going on?”

“Not sure, sir, radio just went haywire there for a second” Preston helped me up and I started heading​ over to the tower myself to see what was going on when one of the guards posted on the southwest bastion hollered at us three.

“General, Colonel Garvey, you’re going to want to see this!” I must have caught a second wind because I bolted straight up the rubble of the western wall to join the soldier who immediately just pointed out over at the parking lot and handed me his binoculars.

I saw what looked like a shimmer of bright blue for a second and did a double take when I saw what emerged. Something that looked like a tan-ish grey skinned, plastic man in what appeared to be combat armor of some kind. I had never seen anything quite like it before, and boy was I curious.

“Can you tell me what I’m looking at, soldier?” after Preston got a look he said something that reminded me of a conversation I had with a certain reporter.

“I haven’t seen one so heavily armored before, but the color gives it right away. General, that’s an Institute synth. That caravan was damn lucky they left a couple hours ago.”

I had heard a great deal about the Institute from Miss Piper, and if stories were to be believed, the Institute was the shadow over the Commonwealth that everyone feared. And with good reason, I had taken the opportunity to have someone scout out University Point and they reported crops still in the field, shops relatively untouched, but no people, no bodies, and no trace other than their material goods that people had even been there. He had found an old holotape at one of the terminals on the fringe of the ghost town and gave it to me upon his return. I hadn’t looked at it just yet but I figured -after seeing a genuine Institute construct- that it was as good a time as any to give the files a once over.

Once we were sure the lone synth wasn’t gunning for us, I jogged down the rubble slope back to my backpack sitting over by one of our building workbenches on the northeastern wall. It took a minute of digging to find the tape labeled U.Point. but when I did and popped it in I was enthralled.

It was a personal diary, it looked to have went back up to two years or so before I left the vault, roughly 2285. I sifted through the years worth of writing and a saw, close to the end a someone mention a mercenary, and that piqued my curiosity at first. I was intrigued on who this man the journal referenced was at first, then I realized I recognized the description, the newest face to haunt my sleep. A nearly bald man with a noticeable scar across the left side of his face wearing a leather jacket with short cut sleeves and an improvised piece of shoulder armor. Supposedly he came around for a few days asking about any significant technology that the town knew about. And by the looks of the writing he came back with friends, the well armed kind. That child thieving bastard sold those bastards to the Institute. I unclipped my Pip-Boy and threw it into my backpack.

I must have been perusing the journal longer than I thought I had, because the sun was now setting in between the skyscrapers of downtown. I didn’t want to go to bed thinking about the massacre. I still had plenty of those dreams from the 2060s and the war with China and needed something to distract myself, so I relieved our night watchman once I had grabbed a bite to eat after the night fell. After a quick route across the walls and some of the scaffolding, I sat down next to the broken down artillery-piece on the northwest bastion. I looked over at the parking lot where the synth had shown up. Seeing a light flicker around a couple times, I wondered if I could make an easy target of the metal man, but after a closer look it was some dogs that got ahold of the synth and his gun. I couldn’t vent my rage against my son’s kidnapper and I wasn’t about to do something rash like rushing out into a pack of feral dogs.

I just wanted to seethe out every little bit of anger I had pent up at that bastard and get on with putting a bullet in his brain, after he led me to my son.

But for all the rage in the world, it wouldn’t bring Nora back. If I just had her with me, I’d not be this damned mess. Together we would have found Junior. With her keeping me focused I wouldn’t get caught by every bleeding heart farmer who was dealing with raider issues or the honest to God threats of this post-apocalyptic, radioactive, barely recovering wasteland. Though thinking it through, it was better that she didn’t see this, see me like this.

“Hey, General, I noticed you were still up” Preston seemingly popped out of nowhere with a couple beers

“Holy shit, Preston, don’t sneak up on me like that.” it was the second time he had caught me unawares that day, Im damn glad we hadn’t gone out to find some raiders or patrol the Fens and Hangman’s Alley. As off as I was then I was no good even for watch.

“You looked a little distracted after you read that holotape from U. Point. There something you gotta say?” I’d say this about Preston, he’s a good squad commander, and he’s got a way of telling when a man needs a beer.

#fallout 4 #sole survivor #preston garvey #noncompanions #the castle #minutemen

[sarahsmi13s]

Fears

(not my gif)

pairing: jake ‘hangman’ seresin x fem!oc

characters: jake seresin, fem!oc, paisley seresin (jake’s sister), jack and delilah seresin (jake’s parents), tyler (brief- paisley’s boyfriend), kyle (extremely brief)

warnings: language, hangman being angsty, self-doubt, college, sports talk, talk of death and dying, minor age gap (roughly 3 years), kyle’s an asshole, brief bodyshaming, i’m sorry if i missed any

word count: ~5.1k (i have absolutely no self control)

a/n: this is a prequel to Smart Cookie and The Promotion, which are both inspired by @roosterscockpit​ ‘s ( @milesdickpic​ ) story ‘His Little Girl’ and yes the oc is based on me (but is mainly fantasy me lol) 

in a loose summary this is basically when Sarah and Jake met (about 4 years before the events of the other two parts). when the story starts, Jake is 23 (october) and Sarah is 20 (september), but they meet in August with their birthday’s falling afterwards, making them 24 and 21. By the end of the story, Jake is 25 and Sarah is 22.

One thing Jake was not expecting to do when he returned home after his first deployment was help his little sister move to another state for college.

“Paisley, out of all the colleges you picked, you had to go with Arkansas? I can’t believe you would betray the Longhorns for the Razorbacks,” he scoffed as he carried a plastic tub into the building. “Well, JT, the University of Texas didn’t invite me to play softball for them. So, take it up with them,” she said, huffing out a breath at her older brother.

The rest of the way to Paisley’s dorm-suite was silent.

When they got to her room, Jake set the tote down and leaned against the wall, “Where is everyone?” Paisley shrugged and slid her key in, “I don’t know. Athletes move in early.” Jake’s face scrunched up, “Paise, softball season isn’t until next semester.” “Practice starts next week, Jake.” She shoved open the door and waddled inside, “Come on, my stuff ain’t movin’ itself.”

******

A little while later, while Hangman was dragging up Paisley’s minifridge he heard commotion coming from her bedroom.

“I just picked a bed, if you want to switch, we totally can,” he didn’t recognize that voice, but it was pretty. “Oh no it's totally fine, I mean, there’s not much difference is there?” That was Paisley.

Jake knocked on the door frame before walking in, “I have arrived with your mini fridge.” He looked up and his steps faltered while his next words died on his tongue.

Paisley nodded, smiling at her brother, “Thanks.” He only nodded, his mouth drying up on the spot. “Oh, how rude of me, this is Sarah. She’s my roommate for the year. Sarah, this is my brother Jake.”

Sarah stuck her hand out, “It’s nice to meet you.” Jake shook her hand, “It’s-uh- it’s nice to meet you too. Do you play softball?” She nodded, smiling, “I do. I play left field.” “Really? I guess you catch a lot of balls, huh?”

Paisley groaned, “Oh my word, you did NOT just say that!?” Jake’s tanned face tinged pink as he stumbled over an apology.

“Don’t apologize. I've heard, and definitely said, worse. It’s fine,” Sarah said, shrugging the innuendo off as she began working on organizing her desk. Jake sighed in relief, but Paisley narrowed her eyes at him.

They all began to do their own thing, Paisley and Jake’s parents coming in to help her get everything set up. They made small talk here and there, talking about majors and other things like that.

“So Sarah?” Jack, their father, asked as he and Jake raised Paisley’s bed. “Yes sir?” She responded, glancing over her shoulder at the older man from the set up of her bookshelf. “Is this your first year here?” She shook her head, “No, I’m actually a junior.” Delilah, their mother, tilted her head, “I’m sorry if this comes off a little harsh, but if you’re a junior, couldn’t you live off campus? Why are you in a dorm?”

Sarah smiled a little shyly, “Well, I know how scary it was for me when I came here. I mean I’ve lived in Arkansas my whole life and I grew up two hours from here in a small town, but I barely knew anyone here. I can’t imagine what it would be like for someone to move here from a whole ‘nother state. Our coach asked the upperclassmen if any of them wanted to bunk with the freshman and help make them feel welcome and I jumped on the opportunity.”

Jake felt his heart speed up. This complete stranger was willing to live in a cramped dorm suite, when she didn’t have to, to help his little sister feel welcome and give her a friend.

“That’s real sweet of you Sarah,” Delilah smiled and patted the girl on the shoulder. She smiled and continued to organize her books.

*********

Jake couldn’t stop looking at her.

Jack stopped mid-sentence, realizing his son had not been listening. “Son, did you hear a thing I just said?” Jack’s voice held humor as he followed his son’s green gaze. “She’s pretty, sweet, can handle your smartass. You should ask for her number.” 

Jake’s head whipped to look at his dad, “What? No.” “Why not? You’re obviously interested in her, you look at her the way I look at your mother.” “Dad, she’s studying to be a teacher, I’m a fighter pilot.” “Okay? And that affects things, how?” “I don’t want to have her wait for me, just to not come home. I couldn’t put anyone through that.” Jake went back to assembling a shoe rack in silence.

Jack shook his head. Damn it Jake and your inability to just live and let yourself be happy.

*****

Once both sides of the room were finished -decorations, bed adjustments, etc- the Seresin’s were starving.

Jack stretched his back, “Sarah, do you have any recommendations for supper?” She sat up in her bed, “Depends on what you’re looking to eat?” He looked at his family, and they just shrugged. He rolled his eyes, “Y’all are no help. I was thinkin’ a burger or steak or somethin’.” Sarah nodded, “Oh, there’s this good place on College Avenue. It’s called Big Whiskey’s, it’s really good.” 

He arched a brow in question at his family, who all nodded. He clapped his hands, “Alright let’s go.” 

The Seresins left and Sarah relaxed on her bed, smiling to herself.

“Hey,” Jake’s smooth drawl caught her attention. “You comin’?” She sat up, head tilted in confusion. He just dramatically waved for her to hurry up and follow him. 

She simply nodded and slipped on her shoes, grabbing her purse and keys.

*******

It had been months since their first meeting, but neither one of them could stop thinking about the other.

Jake had gone out on another deployment and Sarah was practicing and studying.

Sarah wasn’t sure what it was she liked about the cocky pilot. Maybe it was his confidence in himself or the way he made sure to tell his sister how proud he was of her and that he loved her at the end of every video call they had. Maybe it was the fact he made sure to say ‘hi’ to her if she was in the background.

But one thing she was sure of was that she was falling for her roommate's brother

*******

Jake knew the moment Sarah came into the Seresin’s lives, she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Paisley had told him, just after the first few weeks of being roommates, Sarah invited her to come home with her for the weekend. She didn’t like the idea of Paisley being alone on campus until she was sure she could get around safely.

Jake wasn’t exactly sure what to do about his feelings for his sister’s roommate. He could just shove the feelings away, maybe distract himself with random girls. But every time he saw her, even through the grainy quality of his computer, the feelings resurfaced. So that only left telling her about them, and he was pretty sure she felt the same way. However, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her behind if he were to burn in, so he suffered.

*******

It went on like that for a year.

The blushing and the asking constantly about the other, which evolved into them both talking on their own. Paisley was tired of it, she needed to get them both together.

“Sarah, just ask him out. He likes you too. And I know you talk outside of just my weekly video calls. Not to mention the fact I told you he was in Top Gun and you immediately texted him to ask why you heard it from me and not him.” Paisley said as they sat their bags down and went into the batting cages. “P, he’s got a career that he loves and is extremely devoted to. I’m gonna be a high school teacher and coach, I’d only hold him back.”

She scoffed, “That’s bullshit and you know it.” She tossed a ball for Sarah to hit. “Paisely-” She hit the ball. “Even if it was. I’m pretty sure Jake sees me as a sister.” The blonde threw her hands up, “That’s also bullshit! Sarah, he has a photo of you in his plane.”

Sarah wiffed the next ball, “What?”

*****

Paisley pinched the bridge of her nose. “Jake, I’ve had this conversation with you too many times.” She tossed her keys on the table. “Just tell her! You’re gonna be staying with us in this condo for the next few days, what are you gonna do- ignore her?” “Yes!” Paisley just blinked, “You’re ridiculous. I’m gonna get ready, the game starts at one.”

Jake looked at the clock, it was 8:30. “What no breakfast?”

The other bedroom door opened, “Breakfast?” He looked over to see Sarah mid braid, still in her pajamas.

The last time he saw her in person was on his birthday back in October, and he wasn’t sure how she got prettier.

“Hey, Jake!” She smiled and tied off the braid. He smiled back and opened his arms, “Hey Sarah!” They shared a quick hug- well what was supposed to be a quick hug.

Paisley smiled, but cleared her throat because Sarah needed to finish getting ready.

They jumped apart. “Sorry it’s a mess, I got caught up and totally forgot to clean,” Sarah apologized, running a hand through the unbraided half of her hair. Jake shrugged it off, “Don’t worry about it.” She nodded, smiling a little bit. “Let me finish my hair and I can start breakfast.” “I asked Tyler to bring by breakfast. You just get ready,” Paisley said as she left to her room. “I guess that settles that then.”

Sarah gestured to the couch as she left to her room to get ready, “Make yourself at home.” He nodded and sat down, grabbing the remote to flip through channels.

Jake came across NCIS and picked that, scrolling through his phone as the characters talked in the background.

Suddenly, the classic intro of Foghat’s Slow Ride drifted out of Sarah’s room.

He smiled to himself. He had told her once that it had been one of his favorite songs since he was a teenager. It usually helped hype him up before a game and even now it hyped him up to get into his plane everyday.

Jake hoped that maybe it achieved the same effect for her.

******

Sarah started to hum along, weaving the three locks of hair over her shoulder.

She tied the braid off and grabbed her black Razorback headband, mumbling lyrics to herself as she secured it on her head.

Going into her room from her en suite bathroom, she stripped her pajamas and grabbed her uniform. She got dressed, adjusting the sleeves of her white undershirt and the buckle of her belt as she walked out.

“Great playlist by the way,” Jake said from his spot on the couch. Sarah smiled, “Thanks, helps to get me pumped up.” Jake nodded and smiled, “Those are the best playlists.” She giggled and nodded, but the environment became a little awkward.

Jake cursed himself, he usually always had a line ready, some smartass or funny remark to make. But around Sarah he found himself struggling. He didn’t want to ruin any sliver of a chance he had with her, even though he probably would never make a move.

A knock broke the silence.

“That’s Tyler!” Paisley shouted from her room.

Sarah gasped, grinning as she slid in her socks to the door, “Food!” Jake chuckled, smiling and shaking his head as he moved over to the table.

*********

It was game time and Jake sat above the dugout next to Tyler, on the phone with his dad.

“Dad, I’m wearing a Razorback shirt. I feel like I’m committing treason.” Both Tyler and Jack laughed. “You’re supporting your sister, and someone I’m pretty sure is the love of your life.” “Dad, she’s not-” “Jake Thomas, quit lying to yourself. Her photo is in your damn cockpit. Not a photo of her and Paisley or you, her and Paisely- it’s just her! You’re just scared to tell her, because you know, just like we all know, that once you tell her there’s no going back.”

Jake pinched his nose, “Dad, I can’t put her through what I’ve seen other families go through when their loved ones don’t come home. I won’t.” “Son, that’s her decision to make. She understands what you do is dangerous. Stop torturing yourself with what if’s and just let yourself be happy.” With that bit of advice, Jack hung up, leaving his son to think about his words.

*********

It was Sarah’s turn to bat and she was sliding her gloves on.

“Hey, she’s pitching outside corner a lot, be ready for that,” her teammate, Autumn, told her as she slid her gloves off and rolled her shoulders. Sarah nodded and patted her shoulder, “Thanks.”

She went into the circle and took her practice swings timing it with the pitcher.

“Strike Three!” The ump shouted, closed fist in the air. The batter that was up to bat rolled her shoulders and walked past Sarah. “She’s slower than we thought, might want to be in B, maybe even A.” She nodded, “Got it. Thanks.”

The announcer came over. “Alright, we’ve got two outs and three runners on base.” Sarah’s walk out song started.

*******

Jake’s ears perked up at the song coming through the speakers. A grin split his face and a blush warmed up his cheeks and ears.

He watched Sarah roll her right wrist, the bat emphasizing the circle. “Slow Ride… Take it Easy!” He swore he could see a smirk on her face as she looked at her wrist band.

Jake chuckled and shook his head in amusement.

When she stepped into the batter’s box, she looked in her element. Jake loved it. She had this air about her when she was on the field. Kinda like when he was in his plane.

The first two pitches were balls; one outside and one too high for her to hit. The next was a close call but the ump called it inside.

Sarah’s coach grabbed her attention. “Hey, only swing if it’s perfect!” She gave her a thumbs up and adjusted her stance.

“Let’s go, Sarah!” Paisley and Jake shouted at the same time. “It’s gotta be your pitch. If you don’t like it, don't swing!” Jake added, getting on the edge of his seat.

*********

Sarah smiled at his voice, and shifted her weight.

The pitcher launched the ball and she swung. It was on the outside corner of the plate, but still in the strike zone.

She ran towards first base, just to hear the ump yell that the ball had landed foul. She took a deep breath and jogged back to the plate and picked up her bat.

“Hey, Sarah?” “Yeah, coach?” “Where was that?” Her coach wasn’t upset that she swung, Sarah had made contact, she just wanted to know how to fix the mistake. “Outside corner of the plate, I thought I had it. Came in a little faster than I thought it would.” The coach nodded, “Okay. You know what to do?” Sarah nodded and her coach patted her helmet.

Before she got back in the box, she shook out her hands, relieving the tension in her fingers.

“Just straighten it out, Sarah! You got this!” Jake’s voice cutting over everyone else in the crowd made her smile as she hit the dirt out of her cleats with her bat.

She stepped back in the box and adjusted her stance, that way she could be prepared for anything. Shifting her weight back on her right hip, she lifted the bat off her shoulder.

The pitcher threw a change up, something Sarah expected from watching the signals from the past inning. Usually the other team's pitcher threw a change up when the count was 3-1 or a full count.

Sarah waited and swung just as the ball got to the plate, making perfect contact.

Without even watching it, she took off running, as did the other runners.

But she didn’t need to see to know that the ball had gone over the fence, the cheers from both her team and the crowd were enough to know.

After she crossed the plate and celebrated the Grand Slam with her teammates, Sarah glanced into the stands and saw Jake on his feet pumping his fist in the air and clapping. He noticed and smiled at her proudly. She gave him a proud smile back and went into the dugout.

*******

After the game all three of them went back to the condo, both girls taking a quick shower and Jake relaxing on the couch.

When Sarah stepped out of her room about two and half hours later, she was wearing flare jeans, brown cowboy boots, and a silk button up shirt that was half tucked in. Her hair was half up/half down and her curtain bangs framed her face. Her makeup was natural, but bold enough to accentuate her features.

Jake had to do a double take. “Wow,” the statement was muttered under his breath, so Sarah didn’t hear it.

She turned to him. “How do I look? And be honest.” “You look great, Sarah.” Jake really wanted to say ‘beautiful’, ‘gorgeous’, ‘breathtaking’- anything of the like. But he refrained, just to keep his feelings to himself for a little longer. “Really?”

The smile she gave him would have sent him to his knees if he wasn’t already sitting on the couch. He didn’t miss the way her eyes lit up as the smile showed her teeth.

“I wouldn’t lie to you sweetheart,” the term of endearment just slipped off his tongue without him really thinking about it. But he loved the blush that spread across her cheeks.

Paisley walked out of her room.

“Damn girl! Lookin’ fine. Kyle is gonna be drooling over more than just steak,” she commented, wiggling her eyebrows.

Jake’s heart nearly stopped. Who the fuck is Kyle?

He swallowed and looked at the coffee table. “You’re going on a date?” He felt Sarah’s eyes on him. “Oh yeah, he’s in one of my sports administration classes, he's on the track team.” Jake nodded, pulling out his phone. “Have fun. Be safe.”

He knew his short response seemed a little cold shouldered, but how else was he supposed to feel? He was too late, someone had got to her first.

It was for the best… wasn’t it?

***

Sarah frowned a little, but she nodded, “I will, I’m not sure when I’ll be home, so you don’t have to stay up for me.”

Paisley frowned at her brother’s sudden coldness, “Um, where are you going?” “Going to Texas Roadhouse in Fort Smith, it’s about an hour drive.” “Are you guys meeting there?” Sarah nodded, “Yeah.” Paisley hugged her, “Text me when you get there. And let me know if y’all go anywhere else, okay? I just need to know my bestie is safe.” Sarah smiled, “You got it Paise.”

The brunette left, grabbing her purse and keys on her way out. The blonde glanced at her brother, rolling her eyes to see that he hadn’t physically responded.

“Hey, Sarah, I think I left something in your truck, can I get it real quick?” Paisley asked, walking toward the door. Sarah stopped halfway from closing the door, “Oh, yeah sure.”

They went out to her truck.

“What did you forget?” Paisley sighed, hands on her hips, “That my brother’s an idiot.” Sarah rolled her eyes, “P, it’s fine. I mean I know this date was supposed to kick his ass into gear, but he doesn’t seem phased. It’s fine.” “Except it’s not!” “Paisley, look I thought he liked me too. That’s why we did this because I was scared of the rejection in case we read the signals wrong,” her voice trailed off at the end as she picked at her nails.

Paisley frowned when Sarah sniffled a little and pulled her hands apart to hold them. “I’m gonna talk to him.” Sarah shook her head, “Please don’t… It’s gonna be super embarrassing in the morning if you do.” She climbed in her vehicle, “I’ll text you when I get there.”

The Seresin girl huffed, hands on her hips as she watched her friend drive off to go on a date with a guy that she doesn’t even like.

She stormed back inside, “Jake Thomas Seresin!”

The pilot straightened at the use of his full name. “What’d I do?” Paisley threw her hand toward the door, “What the hell was that?!” “What the hell was what?” “Seriously?” Jake just raised his eyebrows, wanting her to elaborate. She just scoffed and shook her head, “God, Jake, you’re an idiot for just letting her walk out like that. She thinks she was wrong about your feelings for her. That’s why she’s going on this whole date, so you can throw yourself in gear and ask her out!”

Jake sighed, “You know I can’t do that…” Paisley nodded, “Right, cause you’re scared. Fine, be scared, but she won’t wait around forever.” She huffed off to her room and slammed the door.

**********

Sarah closed the door quietly so as to not wake anyone and hung her purse up while tossing her keys in the dish.

It was only about 10:30, but Paisley always tried to go to bed at 10 o’clock, popping melatonin if she had to. And Jake would be sleeping on the couch, so she wanted to avoid the awkward conversation that was bound to happen if he was awake.

She sat her bag of rolls down on the bar and moved to her room to clean her face and go to bed to forget the awful night she just had.

But when she passed the living room couch, Jake wasn’t there.

At first she thought maybe he was just in the bathroom, but she saw that the patio light was on.

She made her way towards the door, slowly opening it so she didn’t startle him.

Jake was sitting back, fist to his mouth as he intently stared at the bush in front of him. “Hey, everything okay?” Sarah asked gently. His head whipped up and his brows pulled together, “You’re home.” She nodded, chuckling awkwardly, “That I am. Could you not sleep?” Jake rubbed the back of his neck, “Not exactly.” Her eyes widened slightly in realization, “Were you gonna stay up until I got home?” Jake nodded, interlocking his fingers. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did. I had to make sure you got back safe.”

She was shocked into silence for a second, but he cut her off when she went to speak. “Can we go for a drive?” She didn’t hesitate to say yes. She could see that something was bothering him and if a drive helped him, she would tag along.

****

They drove aimlessly for a bit, neither saying a word to each other.

Jake’s fingers drummed on the console while he racked his brain for the words he wanted to say to the girl next to him. His other hand was trying not to grip the steering wheel too tightly.

Sarah played with her fingers to keep from reaching out to hold his hand in an attempt to calm them both. Her eyes were glued to her lap, scared she would just spill everything if she looked at him.

They came to a stop light and Jake turned down the music, “What happened?”

Sarah kept her eyes down, “How can you be so sure something happened?” “Because from the way you were talkin’, you’d be out later than 10 o’clock. So tell me what happened.”

She shook her head, “It’s not a big deal.” “It is to me.”

Throwing her head against the headrest, she swallowed and closed her eyes. “Where do you want me to start?” “The very beginning.”

She laughed humorlessly, “Well first, he was an hour late-” Jake scoffed, pressing on the gas when the light turned green again. “Then we had to wait 30 minutes to get a table. We talked for a little bit and we seemed to get over the hiccup at the beginning, then I reached for like my second roll and he had the nerve to say ‘you really think you need that?’” Jake gripped the steering wheel with both hands, this guy was an absolute dickwad.

“I said ‘need ain’t got anythin’ to do with it’ and I happily ate my roll.” That made Jake smile, “Atta girl.” “But then when the waitress could finally take our order because he took a break from looking at my chest to glance at the menu, he tried to order me just a salad and that's when I asked the waitress for a to-go box of rolls and I paid for them and left.” She began to play with her fingers again, mumbling out, “Not like I wanted to be on the date.”

Jake pretended like he didn’t hear that last bit. “So you didn’t eat?” She shook her head, “But it’s fine. I was gonna have some leftover Mexican food that's in the fridge.” He bit his lip, “Let’s get pizza.” “Jake, it’s nearly 11:30,” she said, arching a brow. “I may not live here but I know there’s a 24 hour pizza place literally up the road.” He looked over at her to see the ghost of a smile on her lips as she played with her hands.

His hand twitched to pull one of her hands up to his lips.

“I’ll call them, cheese okay?” He nodded, “Cheese is perfect.”

She placed the order, looking out the windshield when she was done. “Give ‘em about 30 minutes.” Jake nodded and decided it was now or never.

He pulled into the restaurant's parking lot but left the engine running so the music could calm his nerves.

Sarah finally looked over at him. He looked nervous or worried about something.

She made the first move and unbuckled to grab his hand, “Is everything okay, Jake? You seem worried.” He sighed, eyebrows pulled together as he contemplated spilling his guts to her.

He kept his eyes on their connected hands, “Paisley told me why you went on the date with Kyle…”

He missed the contact as soon as she pulled her hand away, moving too fast for him to register she was leaving. His eyes cut to her, watching her cover her face in embarrassment as she leaned against the door. “Fuck, I told her not to say anything. I’m sorry if that made you uncomfortable. I was perfectly fine being wrong in secret.”

Jake’s fingers wrapped around her wrists and pulled her hands down. “Sarah, look at me. Please.” Her brown eyes met his green ones, and Jake felt his heart in his throat. “You weren’t wrong.”

The confused look that came over her face Jake thought was adorable. “But then why-” “Because I figured it was for the best.”

She leaned closer to him, “Jake, what do you mean ‘for the best’?”

His hands moved to the side of her neck, his calloused thumbs rubbing back and forth on her jaw.

The feeling of his large warm hands on her skin made her sharply inhale and melt all at the same time.

“I’m in love with you, Sarah. So in love with you that it's dangerous.” She pouted a little bit and Jake had to refrain from kissing her, “Why haven’t you said anything? I think everyone knows I’m in love with you too.”

He avoided her concerned gaze, eyes turning to the radio. But her soft hand on his cheek made his eyes meet hers again and she felt him relax into her palm.

“Talk to me, Jake.”

Her voice was no louder than a whisper, hoping to give the air of privacy and that he was in a safe place to talk about his feelings.

“I’m scared, Sarah. I’m so fucking scared.”

He felt her pulse quicken under his thumbs. “You’re scared of loving me?” He shook his head and pressed his forehead on hers, “Not in the way that you think.” “Then what are you scared of?”

Jake took a deep breath, closing his eyes.

“I’m scared of leaving you. I’m terrified that I’m not gonna come home to you. I love you too much to put you through that. I’ve seen spouses fall to the ground and heard their screams from the inside of my truck. The idea that that could be you, could be our kids- it scares the shit out of me.”

Tears were in both of their eyes as Sarah ran a hand through his short hair and pulled back to really look at him.

“And you don’t think that scares me? We aren’t even together and whenever you're out there on some carrier in the middle of the damn ocean, I’m holding my breath until I hear from you again.” He shook his head, “I can’t put you through that.” She held his head still, “That’s my decision, Jake. I would do it a hundred times over, because I love you. And our fears are valid, but we can’t let ourselves suffer because of them.”

Jake’s exhale was shaky and tears finally spilled over, being caught by Sarah’s thumbs. When he didn’t speak she continued. “If you’re scared of leaving me or our family behind, you do everything in your power to get home. Your fear is your drive, but don’t let it consume you.”

Without speaking, he surged forward and kissed her. One hand weaving into her hair to get her closer. Her hand slipped from his face and wrapped itself in his shirt, the other staying in his hair.

When they pulled away, to catch their breath, the all too familiar tune played through the speakers.

Jake chuckled, “I love this song.”

Bonus:

Paisley rubbed her eyes as she walked out of her room, yawning as she stretched.

She had noticed Sarah’s purse and figured that she was probably still asleep, but wanted to let her know that their game was canceled because of the persistent rain that started late last night.

When she opened the door, she was stunned to see both Sarah and Jake in the bed, snuggled up together with an empty pizza box on the floor and Resident Evil 7 on the tv.

Paisley smirked to herself and closed the door. “Atta kid JT.”

*************

thank you so much for reading!! i hope this was enjoyable!

I do have a pinterest board set up for this, just to help me get into the vibe (one is to help with future parts, one is only for the current parts)

SO

if you want to check it out and get more of a feel for the dynamic going on---- you can click right --->   here

Like mentioned in the last one, feedback is greatly appreciated!

and my asks are open, feel free to request what you would like to see next while i’m working on the next part!

<3 <3 <3

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x fem!oc #jake seresin x plus size! fem!oc #prequel #top gun fic #fears #smart cookie #the promotion #roosterscockpit #his little girl bradley bradshaw x reader

[justabigassnerd]

Bad Decisions

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 2,325

Warnings - alcohol, drugs, feeling uncomfortable, slight bullying

Summary - when a gathering with friends goes wrong, you call one of the most trusted people in your life to help you get out

A/N - whoa not only did I finish and submit my dissertation today. I uploaded a whole ass instalment of the Hangman junior universe?? I thought this would be a nice 'I've returned' gift for y'all! this was a lovely idea sent in by @weloveds and of course, I had to write it! I won't ramble anymore but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

Being in high school meant that sometimes you made bad choices. You had prided yourself on being someone who didn’t make those kind of choices. Your dad had raised you to know your own worth and to not make friends with people who treated you badly.

Yet somehow you found yourself surrounded by the exact people your dad warned you about.

Living near a Navy base meant there were a lot of transfer students going in and out of your school, the kids following wherever the Navy sends their parents. Some people who came were nice and you got on well with them, and others would people you steered clear of. When your friend Mary moved away because her mum got posted elsewhere you started to stick to yourself. You were outgoing enough to make friends, you just lost interest in doing so when Mary moved away. You figured that if people were going to be coming and going you didn’t want to run the risk of being attached to them. Your dad and Bradley had noticed that you had become more withdrawn and didn’t spend Friday evenings with your friends, finding yourself hanging out with the Daggers more and more, which nobody minded, they were just concerned. Bradley and Jake had double and triple-checked with you that no one was bullying you and once they had the confirmation you were just scared to make friends and then lose them, they encouraged you to try and let someone in. They told you that you didn’t need to be best friends with them, they just wanted you to have someone to lean on when you were at school.

You eventually got invited to join a group that had recently formed after a new load of Navy kids moved in. At first, they were kind and welcoming, letting you join in on their plans and never once making you feel unwanted.

But then they started to show their true colours.

Over time you noticed that they’d whisper a lot amongst themselves and when you asked what was going on they’d brush it off, saying it was an inside thing you wouldn’t understand. They also had a tendency to skip class and be disruptive when you were trying to work. You figured that’s how they were, but you didn’t know what they also did with their evenings. One day they decided to talk to you over lunch.

“Hey, y/n. Do you want to hang out in the park with us tonight? It’s Friday night so most of us have late curfews or none at all. I’m sure you’re in the same boat.” Lucy says, stabbing her fork into her meal as she glances over at you.

“I mean usually I hang out with my dad and Bradley, sometimes the other Daggers too.” You argue weakly, wanting to spend more time with your friends but also not wanting to bail on your dad.

“Oh come on. Friday nights as a group are so fun and you’ve never been there! I’m sure your dad won’t miss you for one night.” Jared scoffs as he takes a swig from his water. He wasn’t wrong. You had missed out on the Friday night meet-ups because of wanting to spend time with your dad and Bradley.

“Okay, I’ll come.” You say with a small smile as the group celebrates happily. You texted your dad just before your next class started and told him that you’d probably be out when he got home from work. He was quick to respond, telling you to stay safe and to contact him or Bradley if you needed anything.

You went home after planning a time and place to meet up with your friends and unsurprisingly the house was empty, giving you the freedom to blast your music as you showered and changed and once you were ready, you went to the park and quickly located your friends who waved you over.

“Hey, y/n! We gotta head to the corner store real quick to grab some snacks. Come on.” Jared says, leading you and the rest of the group to the small corner shop and while you went to look for snacks, the others went to the aisles containing alcohol.

“Hey y/n, distract the owner while we snag some of these will you?” Henry says, inspecting the alcohol in front of him.

“What? No. We’re not stealing.” You hiss lowly, not wanting to get everyone caught by your shocked words.

“Oh don’t be a wuss. Just buy some snacks, talk to him, and buy us time to sneak out.” Lucy whispers harshly as she picks up a six-pack of beers.

“No! If my dad found out about this, he’d-”

“Jeez, do you do everything daddy tells you to do?” Jared scoffs.

“Why’d we invite the daddy’s girl?” Henry says as he rolls his eyes. Narrowing your eyes you leave to stand outside the shop, refusing to get involved in their shoplifting endeavours. But you didn’t want to leave just yet, despite their comments you figured they could redeem themselves somehow. It took them about five minutes to emerge from the shop, bottles shoved in jackets as they tried to discreetly leave without being noticed.

“Thanks for nothing Seresin.” They hiss as they walk past you, but no one tried to stop you when you followed along behind them. When they found a secluded place in the park and got out the alcohol you started to get more uncomfortable than you already were. It got worse when other people showed up. People older than you and your group and it increased more than you already thought possible when they started pulling out bags of weed and began rolling blunts. With your uncomfortableness reaching an all-time high, you quietly slipped away while everyone was busy smoking and drinking and once you were far enough away, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. Your thumb hovered over your dad's contact for a minute as you quietly debated whether it was worth him knowing about what just happened before you moved to click on Bradley’s contact, lifting your phone up to your ear as the phone began to ring.

“y/n? Is everything okay?” Just hearing Bradley’s voice helped calm you but only slightly as you took a shuddering breath.

“Can you come and get me?” You manage to say, leaning up against a tree as a cool evening breeze makes its way past.

“Are you hurt? Should I tell Jake?” Bradley immediately asks, leaping up from where he was sitting on the sofa and rushing to grab his keys and put his shoes on.

“No. Don’t tell dad. I don’t want to ruin his night with Uncle Javy. I just want you to pick me up.” You say hurriedly, eyes darting around like anyone from the group could appear at any second.

“Okay, I won’t tell your dad. Tell me where you are, sweetheart and I’ll come and get you.” Bradley says, keeping his voice steady and calm as he could hear the obvious panic and stress in your voice. You relay your location to Bradley, and he promises to get to you as quickly as he can before getting into the Bronco and driving to where you were. He stays on the phone with you the entire time to make sure you were calm, telling you to keep talking to him and to tell him when you can see the Bronco so he can find you.

“I can see the Bronco.” You say when you catch sight of the familiar blue vehicle.

“Good, I can see you too. I’m going to hang up now, okay? I’ll pull up once I’ve hung up.” Bradley says softly, hanging up once you’ve acknowledged him and then pulling up alongside where you were. He barely turned the engine off and pulled the keys out of the ignition before he was leaping out of the car, immediately holding you by the shoulders and checking you over for any injuries.

“Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?” He asks, his eyes swimming with concern as he searches you over. Instead of responding, you wrap your arms around Bradley’s middle and hug him tight, taking him aback by the force of the hug but once he recovered, he was quick to reciprocate the hug.

“Woah, what’s up kid?” Bradley questioned worriedly as you continue to cling to him.

“Can we just go home?” You ask, your voice muffled as you spoke, but Bradley heard you nonetheless.

“Okay, let’s get in the car.” Bradley says softly, guiding you to the passenger side of the car and opening the door for you, waiting for you to get settled in your seat before closing the door and rounding the car to get behind the wheel. He begins the drive back to the house in silence, with only the radio playing quietly in the background.

“I think I made a bad decision today.” Your small voice makes Bradley raise an eyebrow as he briefly glances over at you.

“Why do you think that?” He questions, focusing back on the road as you stare out the window.

“I made some new friends at school not too long ago and at first, they seemed nice. I hadn’t made any friends since Mary left so it was nice to have people to talk to at school. But then they invited me out with them for the first time tonight and they weren’t at all what I thought they were like. They wanted me to help them shoplift some alcohol and then they invited other people from outside the group and they brought weed and I got really uncomfortable and that’s when I left and called you.” You ramble, your focus on the world passing you by in the window.

“Well did you help them shoplift? Did you smoke or drink?” Bradley asks, glancing at you briefly once more as you shake your head.

“No, of course not.” You say, glancing over at Bradley who nods at your words.

“Then I don’t think you made a bad decision today. You just wanted to have an evening hanging out with your friends. They’re the ones making bad decisions. You did the right thing by calling me. I’m proud of you for not feeling obligated to stay just because they were your friends. You’re better off without them anyway.” Bradley says, and you remain silent, processing what he said.

“I made a lot of bad decisions when I was younger. When it became obvious to me that my mum wasn’t getting better, I started doing dumb things to forget about everything that was going on at home. The things I thought would help, didn’t and after a chat with Mav I realised that what I was doing was wrong and that I needed to spend time with my mum. You didn’t make a bad decision today. Even if you did, it would be a learning moment for you. Not every bad decision is the end of the world. You’ll be okay, kid.” Bradley says as he turns the Bronco onto the road your house is on and soon pulls the Bronco into the driveway of your house. Jake’s truck was still absent, a clear indicator he was still at Coyote’s. As Bradley turns the engine off you turn to face him.

“Bradley. Could we keep this between us? Dad already worries about me enough and I’d rather he not know about everything that just went on between me and the group.” You ask timidly, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you avert eye contact. Bradley remains quiet for a moment before exhaling softly and nodding.

“Okay, y/n/n, I won’t tell Jake.” He says, watching as you lift your gaze to meet his as you smile lightly.

“Thanks, Bradley.” You say, turning to climb out of the car with Bradley mirroring your actions. When you get in the house and head to the stairs after taking your shoes off, Bradley calls you back to where he was standing in the hall, and you approach him.

“I just want to promise you something before you disappear off upstairs. I just want you to know that so long as you feel that you can come to me whenever you need help, I won’t get mad or tell Jake if you don’t want me to. However, if I think you’re hiding something and you don’t tell us anything, I will voice any concerns to Jake but only because I care about you.” Bradley says gently, watching you carefully as you nod, taking in every word he says. When he finishes speaking, you give Bradley another hug, with him reciprocating quickly.

“Thank you, Bradley. I love you.” You whisper, squeezing him tighter as you speak, smiling when you hear a breathy chuckle escape his lips.

“I love you too, y/n. Now, how about you go and chill in your room? You’ve had a long evening so it’s probably best you get some rest.” Bradley says after pressing a kiss to the top of your head and releasing you from the hug. Once you’ve been released from the hug you grin up at Bradley before turning and heading upstairs to relax in your room. Once you had left Bradley’s line of sight, he headed into the living room and flopped across the length of the sofa and switched the tv on. He crossed his arms behind his head to act as a makeshift pillow as he mindlessly watched whatever came on the tv. His focus was hardly on the tv, all he could think about was how you trusted him to come and pick you up from the situation you had found yourself in. And he vowed to himself that he’d always be there when you needed him. You’d always be protected with him and Jake around.

taglist (comment or ask to be added):

@zbeez-outlet @kaceywithak @tsnelf7 @starkleila @cassadilasworld @shanimallina87 @madstxo @chaoticassidy

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #hangman junior #hangman junior universe #top gun #top gun maverick #top gun fic #top gun maverick fic #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x daughter!reader #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x daughter!reader #jake 'hangman' seresin #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x daughter!reader #jake hangman seresin #x daughter!reader #hangman x rooster #jake seresin x bradley bradshaw

[justabigassnerd]

Arguments

Pairing - Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x daughter!reader, Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw

Word count - 3,743

Warnings - broken bones, injuries, inaccurate medical scenes, idk hospital stuff, arguing, yelling, swearing, angst, Jake's a bit of an ass in this

Summary - you get injured while out with Bradley, which kicks Jake into 'dad mode' and causes an argument

A/N - hey y'all! sorry it's been a hot minute since I last uploaded a fic! I have been finishing up uni so it's been a bit all over the place. anyway I won't keep you long with this A/N, it's a new part of Hangman junior and as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

Jake and Bradley had never been a couple to argue. They had a ‘let’s agree to disagree’ mindset when it came to anything the two could potentially make a spat out of. When kids at your school complained about their parents arguing you couldn’t help but feel bad for them because your dad and Bradley never argued. You knew arguing was commonplace between most couples and you were sure that your dad and Bradley would argue at least once during their relationship and all you could hope was that you wouldn’t bear witness to it.

One day, while Jake was out with Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy, you and Bradley decided to head to the nearest park and have a walk around to enjoy the warm spring weekend. The park was bustling with parents and children, couples, and the elderly. It seemed as if everyone had the same idea as you and Bradley, not that you’d complain about it, it made you happy to see so many people out and about. You watched as parents swung their children in between them as their child shrieked with laughter, you saw couples having picnics, tossing grapes at each other to see if they could catch them in their mouths, and you saw elderly people sat together by the pond, tossing grain out for the ducks who greedily darted to the food as they quacked noisily.

“Did you ever do stuff like this with your parents? Go to the park?” You ask curiously, looking up at Bradley to gauge his reaction, worried you might have upset him with the words you didn’t think about before they left your mouth.

“Parks, very rarely, I was more of a beach guy, my parents too. According to my mum, my dad had to drag me almost kicking and screaming from the beach when it was time to go home.” Bradley chuckles, reminiscing on the faint memories he had with his parents.

“Your parents sound like they were lovely people. I wish I could’ve met them.” You say, smiling softly at Bradley who lifts his hand and ruffles your hair with a smile of his own.

“Oh, they would’ve loved you. My mum especially.” Bradley says as he surveys the park, watching a dog bounding across the park as its owner tosses a ball across the grass. He had always wanted a dog growing up, maybe he’d speak to Jake about adding a pet to the family.

“I bet I would’ve loved them too.” You reply, your smile not fading as you look back across the park. You and Bradley continue your walk, admiring the sights and the birds flying overhead. As you walk through the park, you begin to head down some steps to walk along a lower path of the park but just as you near the bottom of the stairs, your ankle rolls and you tumble down the remaining stairs, hearing a crack from your right arm as it shot out to try and stop your fall.

“y/n! Are you hurt?” Bradley said worriedly, darting to your side and crouching alongside you as you cradled your arm and blinked back tears.

“My arm hurts, I heard it crack. I think it’s broken” You say, fighting to keep your voice from wobbling at the pain. Bradley pulls his hoodie off, using it to make a makeshift sling to keep your arm still, apologising quickly when you wince in pain.

“Just your arm? Nothing else? You didn’t hit your head or anything?” Bradley asks, avoiding touching your arm as he scans you over for any other injuries.

“My ankle hurts a little, but my arm is the worst.” You admit, leaning against Bradley as he eases you up onto your feet. Glancing around you see concerned onlookers who glance away the second you make eye contact with them and continue on their way.

“Can you walk? We should get you to the hospital and the Bronco is almost a five-minute walk away.” Bradley asks softly, watching you wince as you accidentally jog your arm.

“Yeah, I can walk. I’ll be fine.” You say, trying to assure Bradley that you’ll be okay. With a slight nod, Bradley leads you to the Bronco, carefully helping you into the front passenger seat and helping you plug in your seat belt before rounding the car to get in the driver’s seat.

“I’ll call your dad when you’re getting treated. I don’t want him to worry too much.” Bradley says as he begins driving to the hospital, fighting the urge to speed the whole way there. He was silently dreading Jake’s reaction to this. You were the most precious thing in the world to Jake and he’d shoot into overprotective dad mode whenever you were in a situation where you could get hurt. Bradley also knew how Jake reacted when you were hurt.

“It’s dad. He will worry no matter what.” You say with a weak smile as you glance over at Bradley who shakes his head with a soft laugh, trying to alleviate his concerns.

It didn’t take Bradley long to drive to the hospital, helping you out once he parked and leading you into the building. He approaches the receptionist and explains what happened and the receptionist simply hands him some paperwork and a pen and tells him to fill it out in the waiting room. Bradley heads with you into the waiting room and sits down in one of the uncomfortable seats and stares at the paperwork in front of him. You provide him with the answers he needs and not long after finishing the paperwork, a nurse enters the waiting room and calls your name.

“You go on ahead, kid. I’ll call Jake.” Bradley whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before you get up and follow the nurse. The second you leave his eyesight, Bradley pulls his phone out of his pocket and calls Jake, the call rings through to answerphone so Bradley waits for the beep so he can leave a voice message.

“Hey, Jake, I just wanted to call and let you know that y/n had a fall while we were in the park, and I reckon she broke her arm. We’re at the hospital now and they’ve taken her off to I assume get an x-ray and sort her out. Just give me a call when you get this. Love you.” Bradley says into the phone before hanging up and letting out a small sigh. Bradley remains sat in the waiting room, anxiously bouncing his leg, and fighting back memories of stuffy hospital waiting rooms he often spent time in during his youth. After what felt like hours, a nurse stuck her head into the room and called Bradley’s name, making him leap out of his seat instinctively.

“y/n is just fine. Her arm is broken but it’s being put in a cast as we speak. We just needed to grab you so the doctor can go through medications and care with you.” The nurse explains as she leads Bradley through various corridors to the room you were in, arm outstretched as the staff tended to it, putting it into a plaster cast.

“You okay, y/n/n?” Bradley asks, easing down into a chair next to you and studying you carefully.

“Yeah. They’ve given me some pain meds, so my arm doesn’t hurt as much.” You say, looking over at Bradley who nods with a soft smile. When the doctor finishes putting your arm in a cast, she turns to look at Bradley as she grabs her clipboard.

“You must be y/n’s father, correct?” The doctor asks, looking at Bradley who glances at you nervously.

“Yeah, he’s my dad.” You answer for Bradley, smiling up at him before looking at the doctor who nods.

“Okay, we just need to talk to you about caring for the injury. We’ve prescribed some medication and we have a care leaflet here about making sure her arm heals well and the cast remains undamaged. If y/n experiences any pain that isn’t being combated by the pain medication come back and we’ll see what we can do.” The doctor explains, handing Bradley a leaflet as you get up from the chair. Bradley thanks the doctor and signs some extra paperwork that needs signing before being allowed to take you back home. As you pick up your medication, Bradley checks his phone and fights back a frown at not a single notification from Jake. He figured Jake would’ve listened to his voicemail by now and would’ve either texted him or called him back. Bradley sent another message through to Jake as the two of you exit the hospital, letting him know that you were heading home. Bradley helps you into the Bronco and drives back home. As you enter the house, you kick your shoes off and turn to face Bradley in the hallway.

“Can I go for a nap? These painkillers are wiping me out.” You admit with a slight yawn.

“Of course, y/n/n. Just make sure you prop your arm up on a pillow or something. I don’t want an army of angry doctors coming my way on the first day.” Bradley chuckles as you roll your eyes but nod regardless. Bradley watches you head upstairs before heading into the living room where he sat down, and his leg began bouncing rapidly at the lack of response from Jake. He tried to put the tv on to distract himself and after almost half an hour his phone pinged with a message from Jake.

‘I’m on my way home.’

The message was blunt and to the point and Bradley immediately knew that he may be in trouble. Bradley knew that Jake was probably speeding the whole way home right now and that he would be envisioning the absolute worst. Before too long, Bradley heard the tell-tale sign of Jake’s truck pulling into the driveway and then not long after, Jake came barrelling into the house, making Bradley leap up from where he was sitting.

“Where is she?” Jake asks, panic evident in his voice as Bradley approaches him.

“She’s up in her room having a nap. She’s fine so we should just leave her be for a moment.” Bradley says as Jake barges past him, heading up the stairs with Bradley hot on his heels. The second Jake reaches your room he opens your door and sticks his head in your room, seeing you lying fast asleep on your bed. Relieved to see you okay, he closes the door before rounding on Bradley.

“How did this happen? Penny lets me and the others use her boat one time, and my daughter gets hurt and I don’t find out until I’m back on land.” He asks harshly, glaring at Bradley whose eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“I told you in the voicemail. She fell down a couple of steps and broke her arm when she tried to break her fall.” Bradley explains.

“And you didn’t try to stop her from falling?” Jake says angrily, his glare intensifying.

“It happened so fast, Jake! By the time I realised she was falling, she had hit the floor. I did what I could. I took her to the hospital and got her the treatment she needed. There was nothing else I could’ve done.” Bradley retorts, defending himself from Jake’s anger.

“Bradley, in letting you in my life all I ask is you look after my kid, and you couldn’t even do that!” Jake said, his anger reaching an all-time high.

“Jake, that’s not fair. I did everything I could have done in that situation. y/n is fine. Yes, she has a broken arm, but she was smiling and talkative before she went up to bed. Nothing has happened to her apart from an injured arm. It’s still your kid in there.” Bradley says, fighting the urge to raise his voice.

“I can’t be doing this with you. I don’t think I can even look at you right now.” Jake scoffs, making Bradley’s heart ache at the harsh words.

“I see. Well, if you need me, I’ll be at Phoenix’s.” Bradley says, moving around Jake and heading downstairs, grabbing his keys, and jumping into the Bronco while Jake remains rooted in place. After taking a couple of deep breaths, Jake enters your room and perches himself on the edge of your bed as you blink your eyes open.

“Hey, dad.” You say with a small smile which Jake couldn’t help but return.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay?” He asks softly as you nod.

“The pain meds are doing their job. Where’s Bradley?” You suddenly ask, propping yourself up on your good arm and glancing behind your dad as if Bradley would pop out of nowhere.

“He’s downstairs.” Jake lies, reaching out to brush a stray hair from your face.

“Don’t lie to me dad. I heard the two of you arguing outside. What did you say to him?” You ask, glaring at him in a way that Jake could only assume was the way he was looking at Bradley just moments prior.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Jake says dismissively, not wanting to tell you about what happened.

“I bet I would. Now tell me what happened.” You demand, making Jake fall silent before he sighs heavily.

“Bradley let you get hurt so-”

“So you yelled at him? Dad, are you serious?” You cut in, your glare intensifying as you process what happened.

“y/n, in being part of our life he should be looking after you.” Jake attempts to justify his anger.

“He did look after me. He took me straight to the hospital and was there the whole time. He has all the details about my medication and how to care for my cast and injury. Do you? I guess not because the first thing you did when you walked through the door was yell at him.” You spit, angrier than you’ve ever been before at your dad. Jake remains silent at your outburst, giving you time to speak once more.

“Put yourself in Bradley’s shoes for a second, dad. Imagine I was Bradley’s daughter, and I was out with you, and I fell and hurt myself. How would you feel?” You ask, watching as Jake processes your words.

“I’d feel bad. Like I could’ve stopped you from hurting yourself if I was quick enough.” Jake replies, looking down at your duvet.

“Okay, now imagine you were feeling like that and then the second Bradley got home he yelled at you and made you feel even worse. Because that’s probably how you made Bradley feel.” You say, making Jake feel awful for the way he had treated Bradley.

“Dad, I know you were worried about me and that’s okay. But you can’t treat Bradley like that for something that wasn’t his fault. I know you love Bradley, and he loves you too. Don’t let this argument ruin your relationship.” You say, wiping your eyes quickly so your dad doesn’t see your tears, but Jake sees them.

“Oh, sweetheart. This argument won’t ruin our relationship. Yes, I was angry at Bradley, but I won’t be divorcing him over this.” Jake says reassuringly, helping you sit up properly before sitting alongside you, wrapping an arm around you carefully and pulling you into his side as you fight back more tears.

“You promise?” You ask through tears, looking up at your dad as he runs a hand up and down your back.

“I promise y/n/n.” Jake promises. He had learnt in raising you that he shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep. But his relationship with Bradley was important to him, and he knew he’d be an idiot if he let Bradley go after one silly argument. Jake knew he was in the wrong, that he let his protectiveness get too much and he took it out on someone who didn’t deserve it. Someone who took his daughter in like his own and cared for her when Jake wasn’t around.

“You just relax up here, okay? I’m going to call Bradley and see if I can talk to him. Then I’ll cook us up something to eat.” Jake says once you’ve calmed down enough to form coherent thoughts. He watches as you wipe your eyes once more and nod, allowing Jake to detangle himself from you. As Jake stands up, he presses a kiss to the top of your head before he heads downstairs to call Bradley. Once Jake reaches the living room, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it and finds Bradley’s contact, staring at it for a minute before pressing the number and holding the phone up to his ear. The phone rang for what felt like forever, Jake could imagine Bradley sitting watching the phone ring while Phoenix told him to ignore the call. He couldn’t even be mad if that was the case, he knew he deserved it.

“Hello?” Jake was taken aback to hear Bradley’s voice, having fully convinced himself that Bradley would let him go to voicemail.

“Bradley, hi.” Jake breathes, failing to come up with anything else.

“Can I help you?” Bradley replies, a clear exasperation in his voice as he speaks.

“Can I talk to you?” Jake asks, biting his bottom lip as he awaits a response. He hears Bradley move away from the phone, mumbling to Phoenix before returning to the phone.

“Okay.” Bradley says simply.

“What?” Jake says, not expecting Bradley to just talk over the phone.

“You wanted me to talk to you so I’m talking to you.” Bradley replies and Jake could only imagine him sitting back against the sofa with that cocky eyebrow raise of his.

“I mean, come home. I want to talk to you face to face.” Jake says, hoping that Bradley agrees. Jake hears Phoenix whispering to Bradley before the phone clearly gets handed over.

“Listen here, Bagman, you better clean up this act of yours. I get that y/n got hurt but it was out of everyone’s control. If I ever find out that you’ve spoken to Bradley like that again I’m going to fuck you up so bad, you’ll never be able to fly again.” Phoenix threatens, making a shiver crawl up Jake’s back at the intensity of her words. He knew Phoenix’s threats weren’t empty. He knew how close Phoenix and Bradley were and how fiercely protective they were of one another.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less Phoenix.” Jake manages to reply, grabbing the tv remote and turning the tv off when he finally registers that it’s been left on all this time. Jake hears shuffling on the other end of the line and the jangling of keys.

“He’ll be over soon.” Phoenix says quickly before hanging up, leaving Jake pulling the phone away from his ear and staring at it as he held it limply in his lap. Jake sat in silence as he waited to hear the familiar sound of the Bronco pulling up outside. When he heard the rumble of the all-familiar vehicle, Jake shot to his feet, his phone clattering to the floor at the sudden movement as he wrings his hands nervously. Bradley enters the house and locks eyes with Jake who has moved to stand in the living room doorway, his eyes red-rimmed, a clear signal he’d been holding back tears.

“Bradley, I am so sorry for what I said. I was scared and I took it out on you, which I should not have done. You looked after y/n and got her the treatment she needed. You’re a perfect parent for y/n and we’re both so lucky to have you. Now I don’t expect you to forgive me straight away, y/n needs you and she ripped me a new one when she found out what we were arguing about. I know I don’t deserve you Bradley, but I’d be a fool to let you go.” Jake says, clearing his throat slightly after speaking to try and hide the emotions. Bradley remained silent for but a moment before he took a step forward and took Jake’s hand in his.

“Jake, I’m not going anywhere. I don’t appreciate the way you spoke to me, yes, but I know your anger came from a place of worry. y/n’s the most important thing in your life and I get that. Just, if there’s a next time, I’m with y/n and something happens, please trust I’ve taken care of her as best I can. I love that kid so much and I’d move heaven and earth to keep her safe so please don’t assume I don’t care about her because I do.” Bradley says, letting Jake know how he feels about everything. Jake nods slightly, blinking back more threatening tears.

“I know you love her, and I was so stupid to even think you didn’t. y/n was so worried when she learnt about the argument. You mean the world to her, and you mean the world to me too. We can’t lose you.” Jake says as Bradley tugs him ever so closer.

“You Seresin’s are stuck with me.” Bradley says softly, his small, yet loving smile crossing his face.

“Aren’t we lucky to be stuck with you, Bradshaw?” Jake teases, smirking in response as Bradley tugs him into a kiss, the two men relishing in each other’s embrace.

“Are you two okay now?” The two men jump apart at the sound of your voice where they see you standing on the stairs, a cocky smile on your face as you look at them.

“Yes, we’re okay now.” Bradley says, both him and Jake extending an arm out towards you so they could bring you into a group hug. After hugging for a moment, Jake pulls away, clapping his hands together and looking between you and Bradley.

“Alright, I’ll cook us up some food. I did promise, didn’t I, y/n?” Jake says looking at you as you nod, eager to have some of your dad’s homecooked food. Jake then heads to the kitchen with you and Bradley following. As you and your dads occupy the kitchen, you watch with a smile as Bradley turns on the radio, serenading your dad in his soft voice as Jake prepares what he needs to make a meal. You watch the two men with a smile, grateful that you had both of them in your life.

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