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the-kr8tor · 1 month

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Sink or Swim II

Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist

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CHAPTER 13 II >>> CHAPTER 14

The air gets warmer as Collette giggles next to you. Arm in arm, John leads the way with a pout from the teasing his sister is throwing at him. Literally, she throws hazelnut shells at him. It sticks in his curls, he shakes his head as shavings of browns fall off like snowflakes.

“I am about to say a rude word,” he says through annoyance.

“Say it!” Collette giggles again, ragging on her brother.

“You f—” John pauses, the three of you stop right in front of the manor. “What's all this?”

A dozen or so carriages are parked up front, filled to the brim with flowers and crates upon crates of ingredients. The smell of saffron and citrus hits your senses. The staff busy themselves with unloading the supplies, frantic feet skedaddling in and out of the manor.

“Are we having a party?” you ask, tilting your head at a peculiar yellow spiky fruit.

“Guess so.” John scratches his head, “why didn't they take the back entrance?”

“Maybe they're in a hurry?” Co utters next to you, already leading you inside as you stare curiously at the weird fruit.

“It’s a pineapple, dear cousin. Come on, you'll miss breakfast.”

“Whatever this party is for, mother and father are going all out.” John sighs out, following close, dodging a staff member holding a tray with hundreds of plates stacked on it.

You have an idea on what this party is for, or who it's for. But you wish that's not the case.

Entering the dining room, your uncle sits at the head of the table, hands cradling his heavy head, groaning loudly at the noises just outside the room. Your aunt seems unbothered, eating her plate of fruit silently.

They don't look up when their children greet them both. They only nod in their seats, not even bothering to look at them. You feel bad for the siblings but they don't seem to be concerned by it at all.

“Sit next to me please!” Collette chirpily says, patting the seat next to her.

The dining room is huge, fitting well with the rest of the manor. Narra floors and numerous paintings adorn the old walls. The table is the longest one you've ever seen, strong mahogany standing the test of time.

As you sit down on the plush seat, your aunt spares you a pointed look. More than what she gave her own children.

“Where's Miguel?” You bravely ask above the silence. “And Lyla?”

Frederick rubs harshly at his face before staring you down with his hungover eyes. “Miguel went out on a walk. And who's the other one?”

“Nevermind.” You take a breath.

A man dressed impeccably in a fancy suit, stands next to you. He clears his throat, looking at you through his nose.

“How do you like your eggs…” he thinks for a moment. “...my lady?”

“Oh,” you're suddenly nervous as the whole table waits for your answer with bated breath. “What are my options?”

“Everything.” He flatly says, hands tucked behind his back.

John looks at you across the table, mouthing something. You don't understand what he's trying to say to you, it looks like he's trying to say ‘collette’ or ‘goblet’ by the looks of it.

You shake your head and say, “I'll have an omelette.”

“Very good, my lady.” He says as he walks out with measured steps.

John subtly gives you a thumbs up, and you have no idea why.

Frederick chokes on nothing. You think he's about to get sick but he chugs water before he can. He blinks rapidly like he's trying to wake himself up.

“Oh,” he says, only now noticing his own children in the room. “Where did you two go off to?”

“The birds, with Y/N.” John monotonously says while he stabs his egg.

“That time of the year huh? I haven't noticed.” Frederick’s words falter.

Collette clears her throat. “Y/N told us about her time at sea! She's very brave.”

“She got shot.” John continues for her with a proud smile.

In truth, you told them just the tip of the iceberg. Not even half of it, you spared all the important details of it, names of people and places, the cruelest parts of it and the crew you've come to see as family and him. You excluded him in the story because you promised to him a long time ago that you'll keep his and the crew's secrets. You intend to honour it until you're in the grave.

“Oh I've heard,” your aunt says in a stiff tone.

“You know I've once encountered pirates.” Frederick says whilst he picks at his fruit. “While I was sailing the hazelside ship, they were a rowdy lot. Rowdier than I am!” He exclaims, “in the end, father didn't pay for my ransom so they just brought me back to the docks after three weeks.” Chuckling, his face falls at the memory. “Well anyway, we have a ship gathering dust in the capital’s docks. She's a beut! You might appreciate her more, dear niece.”

You inhale sharply, tucking the information in the back of your mind. “What is she called?”

“The Osprey.”

“We've only been aboard once, and we didn't even sail!” Collette recalls. “Maybe you can sail it with us!”

John grins excitedly, “yes! That would be amazing!”

“No.” Their mother says before you could say anything. “It’s too dangerous. The waters are plagued by pirates and god knows what.” Her daughter’s face falls. “No.” she says for emphasis.

Your omelette arrives, the butler gives you a nod and your eyes almost bulge out of its sockets at how appetizing it is. The egg is fluffy, cooked to perfection with cheese melting inside. Vegetables and meat are tucked aplenty, you can't help but dig in immediately.

As you gorge yourself, the conversation has ceased. The noble family are eating quietly, no words exchanged, not even an awkward one. Not when their mother dearest glares at her pomegranate.

You finish off your omelette, and a bowl of pomegranate seeds is laid in front of you, replacing the finished plate. Remembering the last time you ate it, and how the juice ran down your arm as he ate next to you, as his warmth spread through you.

Now you're the one frowning at the fruit.

So instead of eating it, you rekindle the conversation. “Are we having a party?”

With your question, Frederick perks up at the mere mention of it. As if he's not suffering from a hangover, he claps his hands together, a grin spreading across his lips.

“Yes! The party, oh I almost forgot!” He beams at you. “It's for you, remember? Back at the palace?”

“I didn't know you were serious.” You chuckle nervously. A party full of aristocrats is the last thing you want or need.

“Oh, I'm at my most serious when I'm drunk!” He guffaws loudly, “we're introducing you to society! It has to be huge—!” Your uncle pauses, his eyes look behind you, his smile faltering slightly, mouth clamping shut.

“What's this about a party?” Miguel stands behind you, freshly pressed dress shirt tucked neatly inside his pants, hair damp and eyes fully rested. He's the exact opposite of you who hasn't rested a wink. Nodding a greeting at you, he places his hand on the back of your chair. “Sleep well?” He asks like he can't see the tiredness under your eyes.

“Mm-hmm.” You nod.

“Liar.” He winks at you teasingly. Turning towards your uncle, his face turns flat. “Frederick, what party?”

“Just a little get together, O’Hara, nothing fancy don't worry.” he chuckles, hiding from Miguel's stare behind his cup of tea.

Miguel grumbles, chest rumbling at the thought of you surrounded by strangers. Leaning down, he asks you politely. “May I speak with you?”

Looking at him in the corner of your eyes, you speak with a tone that Miguel could only describe as annoyance and with the exact same tone as an angry teenager who didn't get what she wanted.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Always, Y/N.”

“Hmm, of course I do.” You mockingly say. Standing up, you leave the table and the uneaten pomegranate. There's eyes on your back, it's better than knives.

Miguel leads you outside and into an empty sitting room. The entire room is purple, lilacs spread around the room from the settee to the curtains.

“What is it?” You swivel on your feet to turn to him with your arms crossed on your chest.

“A party?” He asks, exasperated.

“Hey, I'm not the one who planned this, Miguel.”

“I know you didn't.” Sighing, he plops himself down on the fluffy settee. “It's just bad timing. I can't be there tonight and the next day.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. “What? You can't leave me here. I just got here, and you promised.”

He's leaving you in the vultures’ den. Granted, your cousins are nicer than you thought they'd be, but you can't say for sure for your aunt and uncle; moreso for all the strangers that will visit tonight. Wrong timing is an understatement.

“I haven't been home in years, Y/N.” Miguel avoids your eyes, he doesn't see the fear in them. “I promised my staff that I'll be home for a couple of days to settle my estate and affairs. I haven't seen to any family matters in a long time. I haven't visited my daughter.”

You sit across from him on the coffee table. Elbows on your knees, ducking down to look at his downturned face.

“You'll be back?” You clearly distrust the man to a point, but he's the only person you know well enough in the entire estate. You don't want him to leave because what if he doesn't come back? What if the nobility eats you alive tonight?

He lifts his face to give you a soft smile, understanding your fear underneath your words. “I'll be back, I promise. I'll only be thirty minutes away, so if you really need to see me you can always get on horseback and come visit me within fifteen.” That eases you a bit. “Besides, I'm leaving Lyla with you, just in case. Mudwood manor is always open to you, Y/N.”

“Alright…just— what do I do? Tonight I mean?”

“Just smile and tell your stories. Feed them bullshit if you want to, just don't let their pompous asses get to you, hm?” He pats your bicep. “Can you survive a couple of days without me?”

“Yes, I think so.” You shrug shakily. “I’ll just tell them the story of how I almost got eaten by a sea monster. I'm sure that's interesting enough.”

Miguel laughs from the belly, the sound bouncing off the purple walls. “That's the kind of bullshit they'd eat up.”

“...sure, bullshit.” You clam up. “Just come back?”

“I'll be back, I promise. I'm not leaving you here alone. Your mother will haunt me to death if I do.” Smiling at you, he pats your head before standing back up. He walks towards the door, he turns back, grinning ear to ear. “I left a present for you in your room. I heard you didn't like the color last time. See you in a couple of days, Y/N.”

With a wave goodbye, he leaves the room. You groan audibly, putting your head in your hands, rubbing the heels of your palms on your eyes until little specks of dust appear in your vision.

You need sleep, maybe it's best that you do before you attend the shit show tonight.

—

Even with your protest, the handmaidens assigned to you scour you clean in the opulent tub. They scrub and scrub until you feel like your skin is about to fall off the bone.

Now clean and free of any grime, you smell like any rich noble could be— strong flowery scent from the numerous spritz of perfume and heavy citrus from the soap they used.

The stockings itches, the corset pinches, making you want to run and get naked in the woods instead. But after seeing the beautiful ruby red gown Miguel gifted you, you feel all the ache from the intense scrubbing fade away. Just a tiny bit anyway.

As you stand in front of the large mirror, you finally see your whole self. All lace and silver ribbons. All elegance and none of the person you once were. You suddenly feel like you're staring at a different person. Drowning in red, and jewels that would have fed you during the times you starved on the road.

“I look like a very large apple.” You say out loud. Your handmaidens stifle a giggle. The dress is so wide that you have to place your hands above it. If you sat down, the dress could probably eat you up.

The women bow at you, stopping them halfway with a frantic wave of your hands, they still do it. You don't blame them for it.

As they leave you alone in your room that makes you feel small, you admire the silver bangle in your arm. The accessory is in the shape of a bird, wings stretched around your wrist, face facing you, beak poking your skin slightly.

You suddenly have an idea when you feel for the pearl that you hid inside your corset. Fishing for it like you hid money down your bust, you take out the dark pearl. It still shines in the low light of the oil lamps. Taking a red thread your handmaids used to fix the fit of the sleeves better, and a pair of scissors, you craft a necklace made from the thread and the pearl.

Tying the thread around the dark pearl using the same knot that James and Hobie taught you, you finish it off by doing it twice around the pearl to secure it properly. Tugging and testing the strength of the three threads woven together, you gingerly tie it around your neck.

It sits prettily atop your clavicle next to your mother's golden necklace. You think it fits well together.

With a soft smile and a sob rising above your chest and a deep inhale, you close your eyes while patting the necklaces in one hand, and in the other, you feel for the dagger hidden inside your stockings.

You could cry but there's a sudden knock at your door. Lyla comes inside the room with a curious look. She whistles, ogling your form.

“I knew you look better in red, because christ, I think I'm falling for you, your grace.”

“Stop,” you look at her through the mirror. She wears a dark blue dress, lace adorning her front and sleeves. Silver stars placed around her neck and ears. “I could say the same for you, Lyla.” You tease back.

“Oho!” She saunters over to you, heels clacking on the polished floors. Placing her cool hands atop your bare shoulders, she coos, “our duchess knows how to flirt back. Guess you do learn everything from the streets.”

You roll your eyes, “I didn't learn that in the streets, Lyla.” Scoffing, you shove her hands off. “You just remind me of someone.”

“Aww,” she pouts. “And here I thought we had something.” Giving you her arm, she smiles genuinely at you. “Ready to wow them, Y/N?”

“God no.” You still take her arm.

—

There's a lot of people, a sea of finely dressed nobles clamoring to talk to you. Amidst the crowd gathering around you, there's a few of them who sneer and turn their heads away from you. They hold their drinks like it's about to shatter in their hands, grips strong and clearly annoyed at the newcomer, who in their minds is trespassing in their small circle of nobility.

You turn down numerous drinks since you want to be ready in case something happens. Or someone doing something they might regret once they see the steel of your dagger.

Miguel was right, entertaining them with stories gets their attention away from questioning you with unsavoury queries. After the sixth crowd hearing the ‘fake’ story of the sea monster, they've dwindled out, finding something else to entertain themselves with.

Lyla filters through the people who want to dance with you. She turns down every person she deems unworthy of your hand. Which is most of the people in the entire ballroom.

Underneath all the stuffiness of the event, the gorgeous ballroom is a pleasant surprise. The ancient walls are decorated with lit candles that dance with the music. There's flowers in every table and corner, it helps mask the scent of cigars filtering through the air. The music crescendos as the dancers in the middle finish off with a twirl and a hop. Their dresses whoosh and flap as they bounce, tulles swishing and heels clacking.

You sip at your glass of water, letting the ice inside cool you down. With the amount of people inside the ballroom, it's getting hard to breathe. You're glad that you planted yourself near the balcony where the breeze outside helps you from passing out from the warm air.

Shaking your now empty glass, the ice clinking inside, you huff. Lyla notices the sound and she promptly takes it from your hand before the condensation drips on your expensive dress.

“Be right back, don't move.” She says, wagging her finger at you.

“Wasn't planning on it.” you say above the loud chatter of the crowd and the music from the orchestra, but not loud enough for the people to notice you unattended.

But someone does notice, he comes walking towards you with wide strides and with a wide smile. He bares a striking resemblance to the king, ash blond hair perfectly coiffed, suit perfectly fitted to his broad form.

You don't notice him at first because you have been watching Colette dance circles around the crowd. Her lilac dress dances with her, the flowers in her hair adds to her beauty. John secretly keeps a watch on her too, he stands near the dessert table, mouth full of macaroons, hand occupied with a flute of champagne.

The stranger escapes your attention. With a tap on your elbow, you almost unsheathe your dagger at the man.

“I'm sorry,” he smiles politely. “Didn't mean to scare you, my lady.”

“Who are you?” You feel for the dagger with your hand above your dress.

“Viscount Eugene Thompson, my lady.” He takes your hand, pressing a kiss above your knuckles. Staring up at you through his lashes, lips still near your hand, he smiles, a smile that could make anyone fall to their knees. But you've seen better. “It's a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Thank you?” You nervously glance towards Lyla who's currently eating an entire plate of cream puffs. “How may I help you, viscount?”

“A dance, perhaps?” Leaning away, Eugene waits for your answer. “You haven't been dancing and I've seen you watch the dancefloor with longing. I'm here to remedy that. If you'd do me the honour.”

“Uh… I have a bad leg that is currently not for dancing.”

“I'll help you,” Eugene squeezes your hand softly. “You can stand on my shoes and I'll dance for you. It's bad enough that you can't dance in your own party.”

No one comes to your rescue, meanwhile Lyla is scarfing down all the pastries on the dessert table.

With a deep inhale, you smile politely. “Sure, why not.”

Eugene beams at you like he won first place at a pony show. Guiding you towards the dance floor, you once again feel eyes on you.

“Take my hand, put your feet up on mine, and I'll do the rest.” He whispers softly to you.

With a nod of encouragement from (surprisingly) your aunt, you take his hand and the other placed behind his neck. Carefully and blindly feeling for his shoes, you stand on top of the leather that squishes under your weight. Chest to chest, he looks down at you with his sparkling eyes. Did you have a choice in this? Or did he back you into a corner? You guess you'd never know as he glides around the dancefloor whilst you let him carry you around effortlessly.

There are worse partners to be had in this situation.

“So, duchess—”

“My life at sea was tumultuous but rewarding and I learned a lot of lessons from it.” You recite the script you prepared for yourself.

“Not what I meant, my lady.” Eugene chuckles, “I was going to ask how you're faring in all of this. It must be…a lot.”

“Oh,” you suddenly feel embarrassed in front of the charismatic stranger. “It’s a lot, but I'll get used to it, viscount, don't worry about me.”

“Please call me Eugene or even Thompson, just don't call me viscount. It makes me sound old.” He laughs, it's light and honest. The sound fills you with ease.

You smile, “just don't call me duchess or my lady and I'll do just that.”

“As you wish, my la— Y/N,” he tests your name on his tongue. “I can't help but worry, you know. I just inherited my title so I know how it feels. Granted it's not exactly the same but I'm here if you need someone.”

“That’s— thank you, Eugene.” You smile genuinely, he squeezes your hands once, the act flinging memories back into your mind.

“Are you alright?” He asks, concerned. “You look like you're about to cry, is it your leg?” Stopping right in the middle of the room, he flits his eyes all over your face and twitching eye.

“No— I…”

“May I have this dance?” A familiar voice asks, and you feel like you're dreaming, suddenly floating through the clouds as your ears perk up from his voice.

Slowly, you crane your neck to look at him. You swear your heart stopped beating but the mere sight of him brought it back to life.

Hobie gives you the smile he reserves just for you, soft and endearing, all love and affection under the grey eyes you've come to love.

“I think she's done for the night—” Eugene tries to finish but you cut him off once you see Hobie's outstretched hand.

“Yes,” you say quickly. “Yes, you may.” Stepping off Eugene's shoes, you take Hobie's hand without sparing the other man a glance.

In your peripheral vision, you see Eugene smile through his annoyance. But your entire attention goes to the man whose hand you're currently holding, whose hand fits perfectly in your grasp.

“What are you doing here?” You say tearfully, voice breaking. The music hides your cracking voice and the crowd hides your unshed tears.

His calloused hands holding you aren't but a memory anymore.

“‘m sorry, I know you told me not to follow but—”

Laughing, you finally feel whole again. “Captain,” you say it with your whole heart. “Is it bad that I'm glad you did?”

“No,” Hobie lifts you up by your waist to place you atop his own shoes. His hand never left your waist as he dances with you. Letting your warmth fill his entire being, he resists the urge to take you away from the prying crowd. “It's not bad. Did you miss me, scuttlebutt?”

“Aye, I did.” You mumble, but you say the words truthfully. “Why are you here, Hobie?” Uttering his name audibly fills you with glee. “Not like I don't want you to be but—” you finally now notice his fine garb.

With a once over, you ogle him. The suit looks like it's tailored for him, cinching his waist perfectly. Even his shiny leather shoes fit him right. The red waistcoat matches your dress. The dress jacket covers his arms, you silently wish it didn't. A rose is pinned on his lapel, he smells of burgundy and sea salt. Home, you thought. You do miss the leather though. A well placed tophat on his head helps conceal his recognizable hair. You wish to see it again.

You haven't seen him dress like this the entire time you've known him. And based on his stories, he has never worn anything like it either.

He looks good, incredibly good in it, but you know him. And you know that he doesn't feel good in it.

Hobie admires you whilst you do the same. He feels like the fishbone stuck in his throat has finally gone away now that he can finally see you close, touch you and talk to you like he used to. Underneath all the silver and frills, he still sees the real you. But he's prepared to love both.

“You're ogling.” You beat him to it. “Where'd you get the clothes? The hat doesn't do you any favours.”

“A lord something something found himself unconscious after accidentally chugging down absinthe that he thought was gin. In his defense it was dark. He was lucky that I was there to catch him, eh?”

“What?” You giggle, hand kneading at the back of his neck. He missed that.

“It wasn't me though.”

“Sure.” You dress glides as he twists the both of you. Gasping, you hold on to him tighter. “Where'd you learn how to dance?”

“We all have our secrets, love.” Love, oh how you missed that.

“It was Finn, right?”

He sighs, smile still on his lips. “...yes.”

You laugh, placing your head on his chest, hearing his heartbeat wash over you. “I can't imagine.”

“I think it's better that you don’t.” He whispers. “Wanna get out of here?”

Lifting your head up lightning fast, you grin widely. “Please.”

“I'm walking out of here in five minutes, join me after three. And tell your bodyguard that you're just going to bed, yeah?”

“Are you finally going to kill me?” You joke, wishing that you could meld closer to him.

“Yes, I've got a pocket of pomegranate seeds at the ready.”

“Alright, wait for me?”

Hobie stops right where you two began. He helps you off with his hands on your waist. His touch lingers there for a second, a second more and it would've caused a scandal.

“Always, love. As long as you're comin'” He leans down, hand holding your own. Kissing your knuckles like a gentleman, his eyes never left yours, eyes crinkling the corners into a subtle smile. “I'll see you outside.”

“Yes.” You say breathlessly.

Hobie leaves, resisting the urge to look back at you.

As you watch his retreating back, your aunt suddenly appears by your side, making your skin jump.

“What—?”

“Who was that?” She commands.

“Lord…” You see a bee buzzing over an apple near the tables. “Applebees. Yes, lord applebees.”

“Huh,” She narrows her eyes, but accepts it as truth anyway. “Never heard of him. Do you know him?”

“Nope.” You act innocently. “Just met him.”

“Hmm, carry on.” Victoria finally leaves you alone.

Weaving through the crowd, avoiding Eugene and other people, you make your way towards Lyla with an excuse that you don't feel so well.

“I can escort you—”

“No need, I've basically memorized the manor now.” A big fat lie on your end. “Enjoy the rest of the party though.” You leave quickly, leaving her to her cream puffs.

—

The night air kisses your cheeks the moment you step outside. Scanning the field and behind the fountain, you see Hobie slink away towards the hedge maze, the top hat discarded just at the entrance. The greenery adds to your excitement.

“Little shit.” You say to yourself as you make your way towards the maze.

Hands lifting up your skirt, the fabric is silky soft and heavy. Yet you practically sprint towards the entrance with a smile despite the cold and spiky grass grazing along your feet. The full moon shines brightly, bronze braziers are placed along the maze, helping you find your way. The smell of dew and grass greets you.

Entering the thicket, you whisper yell for him. “Hobie!”

You jump when he answers somewhere inside the dim maze. “Place your right hand on the right wall, follow it and you'll find me, trouble.” You can hear his smirk through his words.

“You are such an ass!” You say with a giggle, following his instructions. The hedge is rough and pointy under your palm, your other hand is lifting up your dress so you could run faster.

Your leg aches but you don't care enough to notice.

“Hurry so you can beat the shit out of me then!” You now hear him a lot closer now. “Getting warmer, love!”

Huffing, puffs of smoke escape your cool lips. “Oh I'll fucking smack you upside the head.” You hear him laugh loudly at your words. Following the sound of home, you finally make it to the center.

Hobie yanks you immediately, pulling you close to his chest, laughs rumbling his chest as you screech. With a well placed hand on your mouth, you lick at his palm, earning a yelp from the man. Yet he doesn't let you go, instead he hugs you tighter against his chest.

After the laughter subsides and the sound of crickets permeates the air once again, you look up at him, back placed on his steady chest, arms around your torso. You stare at an upside down Hobie. He smiles, breath fanning across your heated face.

“Hello.” Your heart beats louder than a drum with the simple greeting.

“Hi, come here often?” You beam up at him, feeling his muscles relax at the sight of your smile.

“I come here every autumn, how about you?” Hobie pinches your sides, but you barely felt it through the thick corset

“Oh well I kinda live here now.”

“Really? Do I get a discount now?”

“Better, you get to stay here for free.” You stand on your tippy toes to lean further up until the top of your head is perfectly leveled to his lips. Just as planned, he places a feather light kiss that makes you shiver.

Eyes closed, his lips linger atop your skin.

“Are you alright?” Hobie asks, voice muffled by your skin.

“I am now.” You open your eyes to heaven.

He grins, “good,” taking a long breath, he feels like it's the first time he has breathed into you. “That's good.”

“Are you?” Your eyes flashes with worry.

Hobie pushes the thought of the crew leaving him in the void of his mind. “I'm fine, don't worry about me, scuttlebutt.” he turns you in his arms, concerned for the crick in your neck.

Hands splayed over his chest, you feel his heart beating faster. “The crew? Are they alright? No one got caught?”

He nods, cradling your face, noting every difference on your face since he saw you last. Eyes staying on your lips, he resists the temptation.

“Not our first escape. They're nearby and they're alright.”

You exhale, hands sliding up and down, blindly feeling for his skin under all the expensive cloth. It's still him underneath it all, and you're glad.

The dam breaks, thumping your head on his chest, you let out a sob. “I miss them. I miss you.”

“And I, you, love. You have no idea.” As he holds you in his arms, you tell him everything. From how Jessica found you, to how there's a conspiracy against your family.

“Mathias did the deed, Hobie.” He visibly stiffens at the sound of the navy captain's name. “He killed them under the behest of someone more powerful.”

“I know,” you lean away with a raised brow. “I was following you. I'm sorry, I had to know that he wasn't leading you towards your death.” Hobie expects you to yell and get mad at him. Instead you slap his chest weakly with a chuckle.

“Stalker.” You lay his wrinkled dress shirt down gently. “You could've let me know, I can keep a secret.”

“I tried, but I couldn't find an opportunity. You're popular now innit?” He stops your hand, placing his own atop it.

“Just a little bit.”

“I got close once but when I entered your room, you weren't there anymore.”

“I think that's when my cousins called for me—wait, how'd you get in?” Hobie finds your scrunched up face endearing.

“Employee tunnels, there's hundreds of them that connect to each room.” Before you could ask how he knew about them, he beat you to it. “Bribed a handmaiden with one of my necklaces.”

You stare at him with wonderment. “Let me pay you back then.” Untying the necklace you recently made, you place it in his open palm. You intend for him to keep it, in case your reunion is short lived.

Hobie takes it without question. He admires the dark pearl in his hand, the memory of your face after finding it is engraved in his mind.

“Help me tie it?”

You nod with a shy smile, pulse rapidly increasing. “Turn around, cap'n.” He obliges, mirroring your smile. With gentle and tender hands, you tie the red thread around his neck. He turns back around to face you, the pearl shines atop his skin brilliantly.

“Beautiful,” you whisper just to him, his own flustered face is reflected in your shining eyes.

A comfortable silence hangs above the both of you as his hands are placed on your waist, laying there politely. You do the same with your hands around his elbows. The two of you look like you're about to dance with the sound of the crickets as your choice of music.

You expect him to ask you to come with him. To run away and leave the manor, your family's legacy behind. But Hobie doesn't, cannot do that to you, now that you both have the same goal— kill Mathias.

“I’ll help you find whoever killed them, then…” you blink in surprise, heart pounding at his next words. “Come back with me to the mermaid's head? We can find a decent crew there. Then we can avenge them, every single one. After that we can sail wherever you want, see the real world.” His words are genuine, no lie or false hope in his tone. He believes that you and him can do it, do anything as long as you're with him. Gwen and the others are right, he needs to think things through more, and this is his chance to do so.

“You'll stay with me until then?” He nods, eyes serious but full of affection. Breath stuck in your throat, “With what ship?” You ask with a growing smile. Happy that someone finally wants to know the truth with you. Stay with you after so many people have left you.

“We'll find a way, we always do, right?” Hobie squeezes your waist softly. “Or after everything, if you want to stay somewhere, settle somewhere, we can.”

Oh.

“You've convinced me, you had me at ‘wherever I want’” You say, still in disbelief that he wants to stay with you.

You both feel it, the static in the air like lightning is about to strike where you and Hobie stood. He smiles sweetly and you give in.

Leaning in, hands wrapped around the back of his neck, you're prepared to seal the deal with a kiss. Hobie meets you halfway, his lips briefly brushes along yours and it's enough to send electricity through you from his skin alone.

His breath hitches in his throat, chest tightening, affection flowing freely from his fingertips. But before he could properly kiss you, a loud voice calls for you just outside the maze.

You both moved away quickly, flustered faces hiding the giddy smiles you and him both sport. His skin burns while his heart aches. Meanwhile, you can't stop thinking about his lips grazing yours. It'll keep you awake throughout the night.

Lyla yells like someone took her coin. Hobie quickly grabs you by the elbow, pulling you close and then whispering in your ear. His lips brush along the shell of your ear and you shiver from the touch.

“I'm staying at the barn.” Hobie kneads softly at the small of your back, eyes keeping watch at the entrance of the maze. “If you need to see me, there's a tapestry of a unicorn in your room. Flip it away and you'll see the doorway into the tunnels. There will be a fork in the path, take a right and it'll take you outside.” With every word he utters, you melt.

He subtly invites you, and you silently accept with a slow nod.

Backing away when he hears rustling outside, his warm hand remains a second on your heated skin. With a lopsided smile, he turns away.

Fading inside the maze, he disappears into view just as Lyla gets to the center.

“Christ!” She flicks a branch off her hair. “What are you doing here? You said you'd be in bed!”

“I went out for a walk.” Your tone is wobbly. “It's a lovely night for it.”

“Sure sure, you can walk anywhere you want. But come on, not in the ‘murder maze’ Y/N! Miguel's gonna cut my pay if I let you die on my watch!”

“And here I thought you really cared for me, Lyla.” You pout, you're in a good mood. But it could've been better if Lyla didn't show up at the wrong time.

“Pssh, come on, let's get you to bed. It's fucking freezing out here.” She beckons you over, grumbling about being a babysitter.

—

You lay on the soft bed, eyes wide open, arms spread across the large mattress. The blue canopy above you reminds you of the waves on your island. The windows are closed, while the fireplace illuminates the room. Shadows dance in your vision, and you wonder if he's cold.

With a shake of your head, you sit up, gathering enough confidence to visit him. After a minute of slapping your face awake and telling yourself to not be a coward, you finally stand up.

You're in your linen slip, frilly collar and sleeves, white roses adorning the almost see through fabric. It doesn't help much with the cold so you take your robe and hastily put it on. Gathering the thick blanket in your arms, you don't even bother folding it properly as you haul it out of bed to drag the heavy material across the room and into the tunnel entrance.

Stopping by the unicorn tapestry, you flip it open with your foot. A breeze passes by, peeking into the dark tunnel, you bravely walk inside.

You do the same thing like you did in the maze, right hand sliding across the right wall, following it to the exit. Your eyes adjust to the dark, soon after that you can see outlines of the chipped walls. You reach the fork in the path, and just as Hobie instructed, you head towards the right tunnel.

After walking the cool tunnel, you finally make it to a wooden door. It has seen better days, looking like it's about to collapse any second. With a creak, you push it open with your shoulder.

Finally making it outside, you beeline towards the barn. You remember passing it on your way towards the lake, so you strain your ears to hear the sounds of animals, using it as your guide whilst the moon shines a path for you.

The large doors loom above you, it's dark inside based from the crack on the door, a cow moos inside while a horse neighs. With your heart in your throat, you push open the door.

But Hobie flings it open before you could even touch the wood. His eyes are wide, mouth agape, hand trembling on the door. His surprise quickly turns into happiness.

“Can't sleep?” He asks like his legs aren't shaking, threatening to buckle under his nervous self.

“No, I thought you'd be cold.” A lie, in truth, you haven't slept well since you parted ways. “Don't just stand there like a tree branch, help with this.” You practically throw the heavy blanket in his arms. He catches it with an ‘oof’ but his smile stays on his lips. You remember how soft it was.

Hobie pats down the top of the cloth to get a good look at you, he wishes he hadn't for he thinks he died and gone to purgatory.

Your linen slip doesn't hide much as the moonlight perfectly aligns on your back, shining behind you, showing him every curve and dip of your body. The robe doesn't help as it's made from the same cloth, it just adds to his racing heart and rushing blood.

He swears the hay underneath his feet has burst into flames.

“Why are you sweating? It's freezing!” To add to your clueless cruelty, you step closer to him to wipe at the sweat streaming down his temple. “Yuck, Hobie!” You joke with a giggle.

“Are you trying to kill me?” He breathlessly asks, clutching the blanket tighter in his arms.

Your eyebrows knit adorably. “No? I left the dagger under my pillow.”

He clears his throat and his mind, “A-alright. D’you want to come inside?”

“O-oh.” It's your turn to be flustered. He looks beautiful in the low light, it illuminates his best features, which is every part of him in your opinion. “Are your friends alright with you receiving guests?” You tease to hide your current state.

Hobie looks over his shoulder with a laugh. The animals look back at him with blank faces.

“I think they're alright with it, as long as you pick up after yourself.”

“I can do that. I've heard I'm a wonderful guest.” You saunter towards the pen, Hobie’s eyes avoid your backside. “Hi, gorgeous.”

“Gorgeous? That one's new.”

“I'm talking about the horse, Hobie.” He finally looks at you petting the dark horse as the animal snorts in your hand. You giggle, cooing at the docile horse.

“I'm fucking done for.” He whispers lowly, a deep rumble under his chest. Closing the barn door, he tightly closes his eyes with a giddy grin.

“What was that?” You twist around to face him, the horse nudges you, asking for your attention.

“Nothin’” he saves face. “That there is Bernard,” he says while he places the blanket on top of a hay bail. “He's here at the barn instead of the stables because he won't let anyone ride him without bucking them off.”

“How'd you even know that?” You chuckle.

“The stable hand and I are best friends now. He's lettin’ me stay here as long as I stay quiet.”

“Best friends huh? Miles wouldn't like that.” You poke his bicep.

“He'd be devastated.” He jokes back, taking your finger right before you retract it back. Uncurling your fingers, he laces your hand together with his own. Your pulse quickens under his touch.

“Mm-hmm,” you could only say while he looks at you like you found a treasure chest just for him. It's the best you can do really.

“That one is Butter,” He gestures towards the cow staring intently at you like you're made of grass. “Don't try to pet her, she bites.”

“Noted.”

“The goat in the corner eating a shoe is Jack, he likes to ram people.”

“I already like him,” you say through a yawn.

“You can sleep here if you want.”

“As long as I don't share the bed with Butter.”

“Worse, you'll share it with me.”

“Oh that is definitely worse.” You giggle, squeezing his hand. “You drool in your sleep.”

“C’mon, up at the hayloft.” He guides you towards the ladder, grabbing the blanket on the way. “Careful, the second step is loose.”

“I can handle it, expert climber, remember?” Climbing up, you miss the way he averts his eyes.

Finally making it up, you roam your eyes at the small space covered in hay bales. There's a single circular window in the middle of the wall, the light filters through it, shining directly down at the laid out blanket on the floor.

“Nice, you're living in luxury, Hobie.”

He flings the blanket at your feet whilst he still climbs the remaining steps. “Cover yourself up, you'll catch a cold.”

“I’m fine,” your skin is on fire from where he touched you.

Hobie hums, avoiding flitting his eyes over to you where the moon shines a spotlight on you. He feels like he's not gonna survive the night, and you think so too.

Sitting down with a groan, he lays his head on the makeshift pillow filled with hay. It doesn't smell as much as you thought it would be, you wonder if these were fresh hay.

“How'd you get to stay here?” You ask, while you sit next to him. He scooches away to make space for you.

“The bloke knew who I was—”

“What?! What if he—”

“We're good, love. He won't tell anyone, he said I've helped his family once, I barely remember it but he was happy to keep everything quiet. Lie down?”

“Are you sure?” His hand guides you down on the blanket, hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you down. And you let him without apprehension on your end.

“‘m sure, you're not the only popular one. Don't worry about it, yeah?” Hobie grabs the blanket from your arms to lay it on top of you both. “This is nice, just like in the island eh?” He pats your arm.

“Only this time there's no sand in our knickers, just hay.” You lay on your side to face him, he does the same. “Hi.”

“Hello,” he smiles, hand splayed over your bicep. “This is a five star accommodation compared to the island.”

You bravely close the small distance, he's so close to you that you could hear his heartbeat.

With trepidation, you can't hold it in any longer, lest you regret never telling him.

“I love you, Hobie.” Staring at his swirling eyes, you feel yourself shudder. “And I know you only love the part of me that reminds you of her. And I'm alright with that.”

He swallows thickly, hands clammy.

“Don't worry, I've come to terms with it.” You choke back, smiling, accepting.

“I love you anyway.” He whispered in wonderment.

You can't believe his words. Eyes glossy, you shake your head. “Don't pity me—”

“I don't pity you, I love you. I-I may have liked you at first because of the similarities. But that phase has passed, the feeling is still there, it's stronger now.” He says truthfully, hands grasping your own, kissing your knuckles softly as tears flow out of your eyes. “Because I know you, Y/N, your hands are gentle when you sew me close. You give the same softness when you do it to my crew. Your eye twitches when you're annoyed. Your ankle never fully recovered after you twisted it, you talk to me like you fuckin' hate me but you smile at me like you loved me from the start.”

He holds you close, grey eyes calm, tears pooling in the corners. “I love the parts of you too. Similarities or not, I would have fallen for you either way.” With a nervous chuckle, he continues.

“I love you as you, not as MJ.”

With his confession, you sit up and then immediately pressed your lips against his own. He gasps, pleasantly surprised. You brace yourself on his shoulders, whilst he holds you in place by your waist. Lips moving in tandem, teeth clacking, breaths heaving above the sounds of the animals below—everything seems to fix itself.

Hobie holds you like how you hold rain in your hands— gentle and cradling the water like you would seep through his fingers.

You feel him smile through the kiss, it makes you snog him deeper. His fingers grasps at your slip, balling it in his fist, a proof that this is real and not a dream his lovesick mind concocted. Sliding his hand above your nape, he pulls you in closer, deeper and deeper the kiss goes, the less air he has in his lungs.

Reluctantly pulling you off with his hand lifting your chin away, you chase his lips before surrendering. “Fuckin' hell, let me breathe.” He chuckles out.

“Sorry.” You stare at his kiss bitten lips, and the sheer your lips left. “I got carried away.”

“Nah, don't be. I've wanted to do that for a while, you just beat me to it.”

Eyes downturned, nose kissing the tip of his own, you exhale like it's the first time you've breathed. “I'm not trying to replace her, I don't want that. I know she will always stay with you. So, let me ask you this— Are you sure? There'll be consequences.”

“I can handle the consequences. I'll fight the consequences.”

You smile. “We'll fight the consequences. Together.”

Hobie chuckles deeply, chest bobbing up and down, lifting you up and down on top of him. Your heart beats sync, grey eyes staring up at you with reverence, a whirlpool of affection swirling inside.

“I think I've got enough air now, do it again?” He asks like he's asking for a second heaping of lunch.

You nod with a grin, and you dig in.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you liked it! ❤️

148 notes · View notes

sunnysidevans · 2 years

Text

If You Only Knew - J.Seresin

Synopsis: Everyone has a highschool sweetheart, Jake Seresin had his Top Gun sweetheart, the woman he was gonna marry. A night of anger pushes the two of you apart. If you only knew Jake just wanted three things, love, a family and you.

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Mitchell!Reader // Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Mitchell!Reader (plationic)

Warnings: 18+ , angst, mentions of death,mentions of miscarriage, mentions of violence, mentions of depression , soft Bradley & eventually soft Jake, fluff. Top gun spoilers(kinda).

authors notes: I just want to say, please read the warnings for this fic as there are mentions of things that could possibly be triggering. I also just hope everyone enjoys this as I have put alot into this fic. Happy Reading.

italics are flashbacks. - bold are text messages.

Friday night.

The day where everyone reflects on the week and try to forget about it. The Hard Deck swarmed with people wanting to unwind from their week whether it was good, bad or ugly. Friday nights also meant the bar swarmed with Naval Aviators.

They followed one another easily, it filled quickly. By the time you clocked in for your shift, the bar was now filled with all khakis. “Get your butt over here!” Penny yells with a grin, serving the man in front of her with a kind smile.

“Comin I’m comin!” you chuckle, pushing behind the bar with a smile. Turning in your spot, stopping at the man smiling at you.

“Dad?” he laughs, looking you over.

“Don’t look so surprised to see your father” he smirks, watching the smile that makes it's way onto your face. Turning back around, you reach down and grab a glass, filling it with his usual.

“I thought you were in the desert” you say, watching the foam in the glass. Setting down infront of him, he shrugs.

“Top gun calls, I answer” smirking with a shake of your head. “Uncle Ice calls, you answer” you chuckle as he nods. He watches Penny move around the bar. “Say something would you,” you laugh watching as he rolls his eyes, Penny making her way over to him. As the door continued opening with Aviators. None of them meant a thing.

As the two of them flirted back and forth, you sighed. Aviators always flirted, sending winks your way and extra tips to go the extra mile. None of them were him. Two years of you denying winks and throwing away napkins with phone numbers.

You hated that you let yourself fall under his spell. It was easy to, he was blonde, green eyed and smooth talking. You tried to fault yourself as it was something you grew up around. It would be obvious for you to go out with one, almost marry him.

“(Y/N)” looking up at the sound of your name, smiling over your shoulder at your father. Moving to stand beside Penny, she smirks. “Get him another beer would ya” she sends him a wink, walking to the other side of the bar. You smile, taking his glass. “You look lost” he says, watching your face as you shrug. “I feel lost,” you say, smiling at him and setting the glass in front of him.

“You saved yourself as your mother would say, never marry an aviator” you shrug. “But Aunt Carol and Uncle Goose were happy” he sighs, nodding. “I know, you had a better role model in them than us” he sighs, resting his hand on top of yours.

“It’s okay to be upset, but I also want you to know, it’s okay to move on” he nods. What your father wasn't saying was he knew that he was gonna be strolling in the door and your life anytime now. That he was also called back to Top Gun, along with your best friend. Looking up at the sound of the door opening, your breath catches in your throat.

Bradley Bradshaw stood in all his glory standing at the door aviators resting on his nose with the Hawaiian shirt loose on his body. “One second dad” you send him a smile, moving around the bar.

“Bradley!” he looks over at the sound of his name, a smile making its way on his face.

“Hey you” you're running to him, colliding with his body as he catches you. “Oh my god” you whisper, more to yourself than him as he grins. Bradley Bradshaw was the one man you could count on, minus your father.

“I missed you so much" you are hugging him tighter as he laughs. “I missed you too Dove” he squeezes your arms, pulling apart from you. “Wait” you say looking up at him. “Are you back at Top Gun?” you ask, hands resting on his arms. He nods, smiling at you. “I got called back just a few hours ago” he says.

There was never romantic feelings between the two of you. Just sibling love, you spent all your summers at the Bradshaw home while Goose and your father were on deployments.

“You are staying with me, no ifs ands or buts" you say with a smile. He laughs, nodding. “Okay, I’ll be over in a few hours'" you nod, looking him over. “Let me get you a beer'' He follows you to the bar, avoiding eye contact with your father completely. You never knew what happened between the two of them but chose to never intervene.

“A beer for you Lieutenant” you smile, setting the beer infront of him. “Go have fun” you shoo him off towards his friends. “Bradshaw, Is that you?” the female voice yells as you smile.

“Go” you encourage him. You missed the rest of the group coming in. You look over at your dad with a sad smile. His focus is back on Penny, who is smirking at him. Within seconds the bell is ringing and the bar is full of cheers. “Oh god” you laugh, looking at Penny and then back at him. “So, did you disrespect the Navy or put your phone” you look down at the phone in front of him “on the bar”.

He shakes his head with a smile, sipping from the beer he had in front of him quietly. Moving around the bar, you handed drinks out as quickly as they came once the bell rang, everyone came for refills.

“Penny my dear, I’ll have four more on the old timer”

Your blood ran cold. You knew that voice instantly. You kept your back turned, head down and out of his eyesight. “Sure Hangman” she smiles grabbing the four beers. She sees the tension in your shoulders choosing to ignore it as she sets the beers in front of him. “Thanks pops” he winks.

Jake Seresin knew exactly what he was doing. It was almost three years ago they sat at the same bar discussing the ring that sat against his chest.

“You want to marry my daughter?” Maverick asks, looking at the blonde aviator beside him. “I do” he nods his hands around his beer bottle, eyes focused on the condensation as it rolled down onto his palms. “Why?” he asks, watching the man's shoulders slouch.

“She’s the only woman who’s-who’s put up with my shit” he chuckles, looking over at him. Maverick smiles, “because she’s had to put up with mine for so long, she understands” he nods, reaching over to give his shoulder a squeeze.

“You love her?” Jake nods eagerly, looking over at the man beside him. “I love her so much sir” his voice is soft but your father hears him loud and clear. “Okay, then you can marry her” Jake can’t help the smile that makes its way to his lips. “Really?” Maverick laughs, “Really”.

“Penny, I-I’ll be back” your voice is soft, tossing the towel on to the bar. Pushing through the sea of people and through the kitchen doors. Bradley watches from his side of the bar, furrowing his brows.

“I’ll be right back” he cuts Phoenix off as he sets his pool stick in Bob’s hands. “Dove?” his voice is soft when he pushes through the doors, looking around the kitchen. “Bradley you can not be back here” your voice is soft, strained. He hears you sniffle.

Jake nods in Mavericks direction as a silent thank you, the two may not like the other but he was raised to be respectful. He makes his way back to his friends, Coyote notices his shift. “What is it?” he asks his best friend, taking the beer from his awaiting hands.

“Maverick is at the bar, bought our beers” he says, sipping his drink. “Like as in (Y/N)’s father?” he inquires, Jake nods. “Is she here?” Coyote asks, watching his best friend. “I think so, she loves this place” he says over the rim of his beer.

“Dove” Bradley whispers, looking down at you with his brown puppy dog eyes. “Why are you crying?” he asks, hands resting on your arms as he stands in front of you. Holding back another round of tears, you squeeze his arm gently.

“It’s nothing,” he shakes his head. “I saw the way your body reacted and the way you can’t even talk to me without crying” he reaches up, catching the stream of tears with his thumb. “It’s Hangman, what is he doing here?” you whisper, looking up at him. He nods, his mind going back to the last two years.

“I know, I swear I had no idea he would be here” you nod, looking at your best friend. He pulls you into his chest, giving your body an additional squeeze.

“Overboard, Overboard!” the bar crowd yelled, pulling you from Bradley’s arms. "Oh god” you sigh, pushing out the swinging kitchen doors. Jake hooks one arm under Mavericks armpits, Javy on the other. Watching the two of them with your hands on your hips and a shake of your head.

“Jake Seresin, get your hands off my father!” you yell over the chants.

It took a lot to strike fear in Jake Seresin but there were two people in the world who can make the hairs on his neck stand. His mother and you.

He turns around at the sound of your voice, arm dropping from Maverick's arm, “You too Javy,”. Making your way to the bar, looking at your dad. “Go home please” you whisper, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He nods, standing slowly.

“Come back and pay Penny tomorrow” you say as he is walking out the front door. Turning around, you face both men who stare at you dumbfounded. “Hi” Javy speaks first, looking at you with a side smile.

You had to admit, he was the nicer one of the pair. “Hi Javy'' you nod, sending him a soft smile. “What are you still doing here?” Jake asks, looking you over. You looked just as beautiful as you did when he left. “I work here dipshit” you look over at him, hands on your hips.

He nods, watching your face. “I-I expected you move on, somewhere far from Fightertown" he says. Javy takes that as his que to leave and makes his way back to the pool tables. “It’s nice to see you,” Jake says, looking at you with a smile. “I want to say the same Jake, I do”. He nods slowly, watching you. “Is it not?” he asks as he leans against the bar, you sigh. “No, it hurts me more to see you than it does to wish you weren’t here” you say, turning back to the bar with Penny.

The bar had finally cleared out , the last gentleman paying the last of his hefty bill. It left you and Penny in the empty bar. You tried to tell her you could close all on your own but she insisted. “Was it weird seeing him?” you ask, looking at her over your shoulder.

She has her back to you as she stacks chairs onto tables. “You know how I feel about your father (y/n)” you nod, biting your lip.

“I know, I just got a little worried I guess” you admit, setting the glass down and moving onto the next. “Why?” hands on her hips, she turns to face you. “I thought if seeing my dad again you’d let me go” you shrug, back still to her.

“Oh my gosh (y/n)” she’s moving to stand infront of you. “I love you and I love having you here so no, I’d never let my feelings for your dad dictate that” you nod, sending her a sad smile.

Her mother instincts kick in then, looking over your face. Still tear stained from the tears you tried so hard to hide from her. “What happened tonight?” she whispers, looking over your face.

“Jake Seresin happened” she furrows her brows, thinking back to the night. “Hangman is my ex-fiance” you say, looking back down at the glass, shining the same spot over and over. “What?” she asks, looking at you with wide eyes. “Jake and I were engaged about two years ago” her brain thinks back, nodding.

“I remember, he went overseas right?” you nod.

“I mean there was of course more to it but that was our breaking point” you say. “Seeing him brought back all those things again” you say, biting back the tears that made their way into your lash line. “Hey” she reaches over, hand resting on yours.

“If fate wanted it this way, then fate wanted it to be this way” she grins, giving your hand a squeeze. “I can’t get rid of your dad so I mean, that’s fate for us” you can’t help the smile that makes its way onto your face. “I know” nodding, you set the glass down.

The bar door opens and Penny turns to yell at whoever it was. Jake stands there with his hands at his sides, a shy smile on his lips. “Hangman, we’re closed” she puts a hand on her hip. “I know, I uh-” he rubs the back of his neck, biting his lip. He was nervous.

“I wanted to talk to (y/n)” he says. She looks over at you, a knowing look on her face as you shake your head. “I won't be far” she whispers, walking back to the kitchen. Jake makes his way to the bar, sitting in front of you. He watches as you continue shining the glass, avoiding his eye.

“Please look at me” his voice is soft, almost pleading. You look up from the glass, sighing. “What is it?” you ask, setting the glass down , resting your hands on your hips. “It really is nice to see you,” he says, looking over your face.

It’s then he notices the tear stains, as well as the way you continued to avoid his eye. “You look good” you say with a sad smile, looking over his face. You notice the crinkle in his eyes as his signature smirk makes itself known. “I know,” he admits, causing a soft chuckle to fall from your lips. “What do you want to talk about?” you ask. “I want to catch up,'' he adjusts on the stool.

“Maybe take you out to dinner?” he asks hesitantly as you sigh. “I don’t know Jake..” you whisper. “Please?” his eyes are pleading. If you only knew this was something he longed for.

The chance to see you again. The homecomings of everyone else getting to see their wives, remembering that it was almost the two of you.

He always kept your first homecoming in the back of his mind, everytime he flew.

You stood in the airport with a big neon pink sign. You knew it was cheesy and far from something your boyfriend wanted but you had to go big for him and his best friend’s return.

“WELCOME HOME LIEUTENANT’S!” The two men laugh as they come down the escalator. “That’s your girl” Javy whispers to his best friend as he laughs, nodding. “She is, I can’t say I’d trade her for the world” he smiles. Making their way to you, smiling. Dropping his bag, Jake catches your body as it collides with his, hugging him tightly as a koala would stick to a human.

With your legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck, he can hear your sobs. “Sweetheart” his voice is soft, reserved for you and you only. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” you mumble as you're pulling away from his neck with a wide teary-eyed smile.

“God you look as good as you did when I sent you off” you grin, cupping his cheek. Javy scoffs beside him, shaking his head.

“Hi” you grin as Jake sets you to your feet, hugging Javy just as tightly. “Hi” he chuckles. Jake and Javy always knew you’d be there with awaiting arms to greet the both of them.

“Okay” your voice pulls him from his thoughts, looking back up at you. “I’ll text you?” he asks, biting his lip. “Sure” you nod, sending him a soft smile. He was shocked his number wasn’t deleted and blocked. “Are you gonna make it home safe?” he asks, standing from the stool. You nod, looking at him, “I will, Bradley is gonna pick me up” he nods slowly.

Bradley Bradshaw was a man of many things and he always managed to get under his skin. “Okay, let me know when you make it?” he asks in almost a whisper. You smile, Jake was a knight in shining armor, he wore his gear proudly to protect the ones he loved, you included. “I will Jake” he smiles, walking to the door, turning to face you one last time.

“Goodnight sweetheart" he smiles at the soft blush on your cheeks.

“Goodnight Jake” you send him a soft smile.

It was a week before you found out the reason they were brought back to Fightertown. They were pulled back to Top Gun for a special mission, a dangerous detachment that none of the pilots in your life could talk about.

You only knew the basics that it was dangerous and that someone could possibly not come back alive. Bradley sat across from you at the bar, a sad smile on his lips.

“He’s insufferable, how could you have possibly almost married him?” he asks, eyes landing on Hangman from over your shoulder. “He was very charming, '' you say, setting the new full beer bottle in front of him. “He’s gonna get someone killed if not himself” you nod, his words falling on deaf ears.

Jake Seresin held himself to a high standard, as soon as he joined the Navy he swore to himself that no one to ever see his flaws and to never let them see him fail.

“Sweetheart” you look up at the sound of his voice, looking at him over your shoulder with raised brows. He sends you the same smile that he always reserved for you, soft and full of love.

“What is a gorgeous thing like you doin back there servin beers?” Jake smiles at you, leaning his elbows on the bar. You turn to him with a raised brow, chuckling.

“Because some of us don’t fly planes for a living, '' you say with a chuckle, setting the fresh beer in front of him. His smile was wide and somehow soft. “How did you know I fly planes for a living?” he asks, his head tilting slightly.

You chuckle with a shake of your head, “I know your type plus I know what a pilot looks like '' looking him up and down you sigh. “And you fit the part,” you grin.

He stood in his civilian clothes, a pair of dark wash wrangler jeans and a simple dark green polo. “I’m at the Fighter Weapons School here on base” he says with a smirk, you laugh. “You are a Top Gun pilot?” you ask, his brows raise.

“You know about Top Gun?” he asks, your laugh continues. “My father graduated from Top Gun '' you say proudly. “My uncle runs the school” his eyes widened, “Iceman is your uncle?”. You nod, looking him up and down.

Jake Seresin knew at that moment, he’d marry the woman behind the bar.

“Same as always?” you ask. He nods, watching Rooster over your shoulder. The two men shared a similar look, both ready to pounce if one said the wrong thing. “Can you two not kill each other?” you ask, looking between the two of them. Setting the beer in front of Jake, you smile. “Here” his grin grows. “Thanks sweetheart” he winks, the blush makes its way to your cheeks.

You were his sweetheart, people had their highschool sweethearts, college sweethearts, you were Jake Seresin’s Top Gun sweetheart.

“Gross'' Bradley whispers more to himself as he sips his beer. You let out a heavy sigh. “He’s just being nice Brad” he rolls his eyes. “He wants you back, don't you know?” he says, looking at you.

“He’s gonna leave again Bradley and I’m not putting my heart through that. I’m here for when he returns to North Island and nothing more” you say with more bite behind your bark.

He holds his hands up in defense, “I’m sorry”. You shake your head, looking at him, “I know you don’t know exactly what happened but trust me, my heart can’t take that” he nods, watching the look on your face.

He didn’t miss the look of sadness that you quickly covered with a smile.

Locking the door behind yourself, you sigh. The Hard Deck never fails to tire you out but you wouldn't trade it for the world.

“Need a ride?” you jump, looking over your shoulder at the voice. Jake stood at the end of the Hard Deck stairs, leaning on the post. You sigh, shoving the keys back into your purse. “I can walk" you say, shoving your hands into your pockets.

“I just want to talk (y/n)” he says, looking you over. “I know, but I-I don’t know if I’m ready for that” it felt weird voicing your thoughts out loud. Jake nods, hands in his pockets. “I never meant for this to be how we turned out, '' he says.

The rain poured heavily outside. It continued to slam against the windows. “I am heading to Germany in literally two days time, are you serious?” his voice was sharp,his eyes even sharper as he looked at you. “Yes” you are looking up at the man infront of you.

“Yes Jake, I’m sorry that you are going to Germany and could possibly have a child by the time you come back! Whenever that could be!” you yell, standing your ground. A late period starting the whole argument.

“I can’t have a child (y/n), I can’t possibly go to Germany and know that's happening here!” he defends, hands on his hips. “Jake, I understand that but what about me?! You are leaving me here!” you defend as he shakes his head. “You know how I feel about children, how could you let this happen?” you scoff, looking at him.

“Me?! You are the one who can’t keep his hands to himself!” you yell back. The thunder outside was no louder than your thoughts. “Jake, it’s me, we're gonna get married and start a family” he scoffs.

“Did you cheat on me?” The silence could be cut with a dull knife.

“Excuse me?” you ask, looking him up and down. “Did you cheat on me? There's no way that it could possibly be mine” you laugh. You laugh in his face. “I can’t believe you” you shake your head and begin pacing the kitchen. He sighs, hands on his hips.

“I don’t think we should get married,” he says in a whisper.

“I mean, my career is taking off, I could land a captain spot anyday and I don’t think I need this tying me down” he doesn’t miss the softness in your voice. You nod, pulling the engagement ring off of your finger and shoving it in his hands.

“Get out” you shove past him, ignoring him and the thunder that boomed outside of your once loving home.

Within three days you were sitting empty on the bathroom floor, the pink stick held tightly in your hands as you saw the lines that confirmed your biggest fear.

You were pregnant.

The pouring rain felt good on your burning skin, you went to the once place you knew you could. Pounding on the door, you ignore the ache in your chest as you hold the stick tightly in your hands. “Oh my god” Sarah’s voice is soft as she takes you in.

Tears now running with the rain as you stood soaked on her doorstep. “I-Is uncle Ice here?” you're whimpering as she’s pulling you out of the cold. “Tom!” she yells for her husband who worked at his desk upstairs. “What is it sweetheart?” he stops at the top of the stairs as he takes in your state.

In the days of Tom Kazansky raising his own children, you meant as much to him as his oldest daugher. “(y/n)” he’s rushing down the steps, wrapping you in his arms. You sob into his hard chest as he nods to Sarah, “get me a towel”.

He ignores the pink stick in your hand, he ignores the voice in his head that urges him to call your father. Even though he was off on a detachment that sent him to a different side of the world.

“I’ve got you honey” he’s kissing your forehead gently, swaying your shaking body.

“Sweetheart, you with me?” his voice pulls you from your thoughts, looking up at him.

“Why didn’t you want a family with me?” you ask with a shakyness. “Why was I not enough to hold onto in Germany?” you're crying now. He’s taking the steps two at a time, making his way to you. “I should’ve never said those things to you” he says, stopping infront of you.

“I should have been honest with you and told you I didn’t think I was ready to be a father, a husband” he takes your hand. You shake your head, pulling your hand from his.

“I suffered alot while you were in Germany, I should not have gone through that alone and I did Jake '' you say, voice shaking. Stepping away from him, his face turns to confusion. “I took a test about three days after you left,” you say, hugging yourself as you turn away from him.

“It was positive,” you whisper. “I carried our babyboy for about two months, then I had a miscarriage” your voice shakes. “I suffered that loss with no one, not even my dad” you sigh, wiping your cheeks. “So I can’t just forgive you so easily Jake” turning to face him, his own tears began rolling down his cheeks.

"I had no idea if you were even alive” you say.

“I kept everything” he says, looking from your face to his shoes.

“What?” you ask, looking at him with furrowed brows. “If you only knew that I kept your letters, I kept your ring” he pulled the chain from his shirt, looking at you as the ring sat tucked between his dog tags.

“If you only knew that I couldn’t sleep for months on the carrier, Rooster had to listen to me toss and turn for days” he says, watching your face. “The only thing that got me through Germany was you” he looks away, letting his tears fall freely.

“You never mentioned our son in your letters” he says with his own voice breaking. “I know, I didn’t think you cared” the admission hit him harder than he wanted to admit.

“I did, I cared about you for so many years (y/n), I still care about you”.

The sound of gravel pulls the two of your eyes away from each other. Bradley climbed out of the Bronco, hands on his hips. “Hangman” his tone was defensive. “(y/n), you okay?” he asks, climbing the stairs.

“I’m okay Brad, I promise” you say with a smile. “I think we should talk about this another time” you say, looking at Hangman. “You have an important mission coming up, you gotta be on your game” walking past him, you pat his shoulder in support.

“(y/n)” his voice is pleading, looking at you. “I love you” shaking your head, you sigh. “Good luck Jake” you make your way down the steps and to the Bronco.

Jake can’t help the chill that runs down his spine at the daggers Rooster sent his way. He knew Bradley loved hard and if you hurt someone he loved, he came with a vengeance.

Bradley ignored the tears stained on your cheeks as he started the car, driving towards your shared apartment.

The apartment was a mess. Bradley couldn’t ignore the nag in the back of his mind, this wasn’t you. “Dove?” he asks through the apartment. He had no idea if you were even here. “Roos?” you try to stand from the bathroom floor, wiping your mouth with a towel.

He catches you before you can make it off the floor, looking you over. “Hi” your voice is hoarse from the last twenty minutes of vomiting.

You are sniffling as his brown eyes soften. “I-I’m sorry I wasn’t there-” he cuts you off, shaking his head. “What is going on?” he asks, moving into the bathroom dropping all of his bags at the door.

Shaking your head and holding your arms out to him, he helps you off the cold floor. “I missed you” you whisper, hugging him tightly. “I missed you too, now tell me what’s going on, are you sick?” he asks with worry in his voice. It’s then he notices the small bump.

“You're pregnant?” he asks as you nod slowly,looking up at him as the tears begin to cascade down your cheeks like a river.

“Dove?” you look over at the sound of Bradley's voice. “You okay?” he’s whispering, the Bronco now parked in the apartment parking lot. “No,” you admit, looking at him.

His eyes soften, he takes your state in then. “I told him” your voice breaks as you admit it, looking away from him as if he'd be disappointed in you. “I told him I lost our baby and-” its then a sob falls from your lips.

“Hey” he’s reaching over, taking your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay” he’s smiling sadly at you. “He told me he kept all my letters and-" you're hyperventilating now, looking at him.

“Why did he keep them if he didn’t love me enough to stay Roos?”

You ask and his heart breaks for you. “Let’s get you inside” he’s climbing out of the driver side, making his way to the passanger side. Your body falls into him as he helps you out. Scooping you up in his arms, he carries your body up five flights of stairs to the apartment the two of you were sharing.

By the time he makes his way to the front door, he notices your body had relaxed and your sobs quieted down, you had fallen asleep.

“Goodnight dove,” he lays you down and tucks the covers around your body, leaning down kissing your forehead gently.

He will be having a long conversation with Hangman tomorrow.

The California sun was hot. Beating down on the pilots as they dripped with sweat. Standing on the deck beside Penny, you grin. “Are you having fun eye-fucking my father?” you ask, startling her.

She drops the pen she was holding, looking up at you with a smile. Your face was swollen, she chose to ignore it.

“Maybe” she grins, looking back out at the game. Following her gaze, you smile at the pilots, missing the way the altercation on the sand looked nothing more than a simple game of football.

Rooster pushes Hangman as they both go for the ball, not missing the way he’s being a bit aggressive for a game of football.

“What the fuck Bradshaw!” he’s yelling, standing from the sand, looking at the mustached man. “Really?!” he throws his hands up. “How does it feel to be pushed around Hagman!” He points at Jake, standing taller than the blonde aviator.

“Excuse me?” Jake tries sizing him up, looking up at Rooster.

“You came back here and broke her heart all over again, Hangman” he pushes Jake's chest. The man stumbled slightly, and then he laughs, Jake Seresin laughs in his face.

“That has nothing to do with you” Rooster shakes his head, his own sinister laugh. “It does when I’ve picked up the pieces more times than you have! You know what she asked me? She asked me why you didn’t love her enough to stay and truly I think we’re all waiting for that answer!” he yells, and before he knows it, his fist is connecting with Jake’s jaw.

“That’s for my sister you fucker!” he yells as Maverick is between the two of them, pushing their chests away from the other.

“What is going on?!” Maverick yells, looking between the two panting men. “Hangman is a worthless excuse for a man” he pants, seething as Phoenix holds him back.

“What is he talking about?” he asks the blonde. You stand on the steps watching them, quickly making your way down the sand. as soon as you noticed Rooster swing. “What is going on?” you ask, standing behind the group.

“Jake was finally gonna tell us what happened” Rooster pants, his hand gripping phoenix's comfortingly. “How he got you pregnant and left you picking up the pieces all alone” he spits “living up to your call-sign aren't ya?”.

Maverick looks between the pilots, then back at you. The color in your face is gone.

“Is that true?” Maverick asks, looking between you and then back at Jake. His green eyes meet yours, then looking back at your fathers. “Yes” his voice is hoarse. His jaw is sore but he knows it doesn’t compare to the pain you've felt.

“That’s how our engagement ended, but Bradley” you look over at him, his eyes softening. “There was no need for you to air out Jake and I’s dirty laundry” you snarl. You meet your dad’s softening eyes, “you are all dismissed” he says.

He makes his way beside you, wrapping you in his arms. “When did this happen?” he whispers as the group makes their way up to The Hard Deck.

“You were in the desert, about two years ago, I went to Uncle Ice” you whisper, hugging him just as tight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” he admits. You shake your head against his chest, squeezing him. "It's not your fault dad” he kisses the top of your head, mumbling against your hairline. “I will make him do extra training,extra push ups if I don’t kill him first” he smiles as you chuckle.

“I’ll have a beer Penny” Jake’s voice is soft as she sends him a glare. She never was one to discriminate against a customer but she knew your pain. She went through almost the same pain with your father. “I should kick you out of my bar” she seeths, setting the bottle down in front of him, “but I won't because I know that’s not what she would want” he nods with a sigh.

“I really do love her Penny” he looks up at the woman, who shakes her head. “You need to prove it, Hangman” she makes her way over to Bradley with a smile.

“I’m sorry for causing a scene” he apologies to Penny as she shakes her head. “You are just being a big brother, I understand” she smiles giving him the opened beer.

“What the hell man?” Coyote sits beside his best friend, looking over his face. “I know” he admits, setting the bottle down, letting the amber liquid run down his throat. “I’m not proud of it,” he says, looking over at Coyote. “I told her I didn’t want a family, I-I accused her of cheating on me. I told her my career was more impaortant than a family” he scoffs at himself, “sick”. He sips the beer again.

“You need to fix this man,” he says to his best friend. Jake nods, looking out at the beach at you and Maverick, talking and hugging. He knew the rocky relationship the two of you had. “I know”.

Maverick stood at the door, he hated having to do this. He watched as you and Penny danced around the other, Bradley stood beside him. You stood at the bar standing beside Penny,looking between your father and Bradley, they stood dressed in their whites.

“The mission got moved up” Maverick says, his eyes falling to Penny with sympathy. “Go” you whisper to her, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze as the two of them go outside.

“Dove” looking up at the sound of Rooster’s voice. You tried to wrap your head around the timing.

A week ago, Jake was walking back into your life as well as Bradley and your father, now they were leaving again. Four days ago you finally told the love of your life the two years of hell you went through without him.

Now, they are leaving. “I think you should talk to Hangman” your eyes snap up to his brown ones, they held sympathy. “Why?” you ask, looking him up and down. He looked just like his father.

“We may not come back from this,” he says. “You better come back from this Bradshaw” you didn’t mean for it to come out so mean. He laughs with a nod, he knows you didn't mean it. “I will do my best, I got my girls to think about” he smiles at the smile on your face. He meets you halfway around the bar, wrapping you in a tight hug.

“I love you, Dove” he whispers as you squeeze him tighter. “I love you too, Rooster”. After a tearful goodbye with your father between both you and Penny, you reach for your phone.

Jake's phone pulls him from his thoughts, looking down at the message across the screen.

Sweetheart: I need to see you.

His heart sank as another followed,

Sweetheart: meet me at the hard deck in 15?.

You were nervous, chewing on your lip as you looked at Penny. “Bradley is right, you need to talk to him” she smiles as you nod, looking down at your phone.

Read: 9:45pm.

You scoff, shoving the phone back into your pocket. Twenty minutes later you find yourself sitting on the sand. Penny shoved you out the door to take a break. “I thought I’d find you out here” turning around, you meet Jake dressed in his whites, hat in hand. You stand, looking him over, he smiles shyly.

“I need to say a few things” you say, looking over his face as he nods. “Go ahead” he says, moving to stand in front of you. “I-I still love you, I know seeing you has brought these things to the surface that I thought I could avoid” you avoid his eye as you continue.

“The things you said to me two years ago and then the way you act now, I-I want to forgive you” you look up at him, his eyes sharing a similar hopefulness. "I don't want to love another human being as much as I love you." Your voice shakes as you continue, "I don't want to give my heart to a stranger all over again" looking over his face, his eyes were so full of love, love you hadn't seen in years.

“I don’t want you to go on the mission thinking about me and your mistakes and-” he cuts you off then, his lips meeting yours for the first time in three years. It takes you a minute to catch up and when you do, you are pulling him by his jacket closer to you.

“I think about you every time I fly, I have since the day I walked into that bar” he whispers against your lips, nudging your nose with his. “But since the day I went overseas, I’ve held you closer to my heart” he admits. “If you only knew how much I love you” he says as his breath fans over your face.

“If you only knew that I kept everything, every photo, every text message, every letter and your goddamn ring, I kept the key to the apartment” he rambles, hand falling to yours.

“It’s always going to be you (y/n) Mitchell” he looks over your face.

“I can’t sleep without you, my bed is cold, I don't think I've had a good night’s sleep in two years” he chuckles as you sniffle.

“Make it back to me in one piece okay?” you whisper, looking up at him with tears in your eyes. He cups your cheeks, his calloused thumb catches the tears, a teary smile on both of your faces.

“Sweetheart, I would swim oceans and crawl through fire to get back to you, you breathe life into me” he smiles at the small smile on your lips.

“Go in open minded, don’t think about me, don’t think about the past, don’t think about anything but protecting yourself” he nods, smiling down at you. “Maverick and Rooster too” he adds with a wink.

You knew deep down they were all fond of the other, they would never admit it though. “I want you waiting for me” he grins, leaning down to connect your lips again.

“You got it” you agree, kissing him as if he’d slip from your fingers and you’d wake up from this dream.

Jake made his way on the tarmac to the two people he dreaded having to talk to. Phoenix, Bradley and Maverick stood around the plane, stopping their conversation at the sight of the blonde.

He gulps, looking between them all. “Rooster” he nods, looking him up and down as Bradley excuses himself from the two.

“What is it Hangman?” he asks, adjusting the aviators on his nose.

“Thank you” Roosters furrows his brows as he looks the man up and down. He never expected Hangman to be thanking him. “You showed me I was not worthy of a woman like (y/n)." He looks over Bradleys face as he continues.

"I know that now and I now am gonna strive to be the man she deserves, the one she was gonna marry those years ago” he nods, Bradley can’t help but puff out his chest. He was protective of you.

“And thank you for convincing her to talk to me, I don’t think I could fly this mission with the thought of never seeing her again” his voice is soft as he makes the admission to the one person he never expected.

“Lastly” he looks up at Rooster with his signature Hangman smirk, “give em hell”.

It had been two days. You heard radio silence from every party. Checking in with Penny to see if she heard nothing, she was as in the dark as you were. No one knew if the mission was a success.

You threw yourself into work to keep your mind off it. “Penny!” you yell, pushing out of the kitchen doors with a case of beers in your arms.

“I mean I’m not penny but, will I surfice?” you turn at the sound of your fathers voice, gasping. “Dad!” you shove the case onto the table running into his awaiting open arms. “Hi sweetheart” he smiles, giving you a squeeze. “Are you okay?” you gasp, pulling away from his chest to look him over. He chuckles, looking down at you with a smile.

“I’m fine” he grins, rubbing your back. “C’mon I have something to show you” he smiles, leading you out the front door of the Hard Deck. He couldn’t believe the boys put him up to this.

The blue Bronco came speeding down the road.

The speakers loudly played Take My Breath Away as the cheers of the Aviators could be heard miles away. Standing on the back of the Bronco stood Jake Seresin still dressed in his flight suit, singing loudly as he got closer to the hard deck.

“My Love, Take My Breath Away!” he grins, watching the smile on your face.

Bradley smirks as he parks the bronco. You laugh, running down the steps quickly. Jake jumped from the back of the Bronco, catching your body as it collides with his.

“Sweetheart” he laughs, hugging you tight. Just like when he came home from his first deployment, you clung to him like a koala, sobbing into his shoulder.

Jake Seresin was a simple man, he wanted three things in life, love, a wife and a family.

And here he was holding his world in his arms again, building his family piece by piece.

“I’m here” he whispers, fingers tangling in your hair as you sob. “Oh my god you idiot” you laugh between sobs, pulling away to kiss him as if he’d fade away from your arms. The kiss was sloppy but full of love.

“If you only knew how much I love you” he whispers once the two of you part, you sniffle with a smile.

“I may have a little bit of an idea” you laugh, kissing him again.

if you enjoyed this fic, you can find all of my other work in the library, here <-

if you would like to listen to the song this fic is based on, you can find that here <-

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unforth · 3 months

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We are one Iowa caucus into the absolute shitshow that is going to be the US 2024 elections, and I'm already sick of seeing takes downplaying the risk that Trump and his fascist followers represent.

Look. Around 1900, my mother's grandparents immigrated to the Lower East Side of New York City. They brought with them children born in Europe (Poland? Ukraine? which country they were in depends on what year we're talking about) - we're not 100% sure they were THEIR children, even, but there were three, and they were young, and they came. But my great-grandparents had siblings, parents, cousins, uncles, aunts, huge families. And while my understanding is that an attempt was made to convince those folks to move to the US, none of them ultimately opted to.

They all kept in touch as they were able, exchanging letters and pictures, but through World War 1, through the 20s, through the Great Depression, through the worsening situation in Europe in the 1930s, my entire extended family who chose not to immigrate...continued to stay.

I think we all know how this story ends.

I have an entire family photo album of people whose names I will never know, because after every single one of them died in the Holocaust, my great-grandparents and grandparents couldn't bear to even label them. And they were PEOPLE, poor, vibrant, eager to maintain connections with their loved ones abroad. One was a Klezmer musician, and we have photos of him with all the different instruments he played. They're so real on the page, and they all ended in ashes.

And you know how that started? Fascism started with every inch allowed, with every well-intentioned moderate who tried to maintain a middle position even as the whole ground shifted right beneath their feet and even "middle" became extreme, every "no that change isn't coming fast enough, I want instant full improvement NOW" liberal who felt that doing nothing was better than accepting a slower improvement in the (truly awful!) post-World War 1 living situation in Germany.

Most of the members of my extended family also downplayed the risks. They never imagined that the worst could happen to them. They never fathomed how bad things could become.

And now I have their example always before me to know and to scream:

I KNOW HOW BAD THINGS CAN BECOME. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MY FAMILY THEN.

I WILL NOT LET THAT HAPPEN TO MY FAMILY NOW.

People look at me like I'm crazy when I say I've got our passports ready (and have had since before the 2020 election).

Look. I don't know what will happen if Trump is elected, but there's a very real possibility he will, and he's been extremely clear about saying what he'll do. He did a lot of the things he said he'd do last time. I expect he'll continue to do the things he says he'll do. And the things he say he'll do will lead to the deaths of more people than we can imagine - in the US, in Palestine, throughout the world.

Don't tell me there's a middle ground here. Don't tell me I'm over-reacting. Don't tell me the worst won't happen. Don't tell me the risk is mild. Don't tell me we're safe.

We. Are. Not. Safe.

The lives of dozens, hundreds, of members of family were lost in the 1940s amid the horrifying statistic "6,000,000 dead Jews."

I will not let my life (as a Jew), my wife's life (as a disabled woman), my son's life (as a biracial boy), my daughter's life (as a biracial trans girl), be part of the statistics that come from our a second Trump presidency.

If you won't vote like YOUR life depends on it, vote like someone ELSE'S life depends on it, because IT DOES.

And if you can't even do that much, at least shut the fuck up and stop spreading your poison around. You're wrong. The danger is real. Downplaying it now won't make your conscience feel any clearer when it actually happens, and comforting everyone else downplaying it will just make you that much more complicit.

#unforth rambles #politics #us politics #genocide #genocide tw #i don't know how to tag this #i wish the album was here instead of at my mom's #i want every one of you who think this doesn't matter #to stare at the smiling faces of my long-dead relatives #and see these people who were shot and stabbed and burned and raped and destroyed #who died in rebellion or despair in hopelessness or desperation #no matter how much or how little they fought #they're all ashes now and nothing will bring them back #i have no family in europe #not a single person survived #i won't let my family be the ones who stay too long because we don't take it seriously #and neither should you

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lady-targaryens-world · 9 months

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The only Daughter: Prolog

Note: It is my first story and i hope you like the Prolog….. ik it is very short!

English is not my native language!

Pairing: ? x Fem! Targaryen reader

Please like, comment and share 🫶

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You're the first born child of Rhaenyra Targaryen and Laenor Velaryon

You are the only child of Rhaenyra who has Valyrian silver hair and purple eyes or better said, you have a purple eye and a green eye like Alyssa Targaryen, the mother of your grandfather Viserys and his brother Daemon the rogue prince.

Your eyes were also the reason why your grandfather cried when he held you in his arms for the first time, because after all those years he saw his mother in your beautiful eyes again.

You were the only grandchild of Viserys where he wanted to choose the name too.

Rhaenyra and Viserys thought about to name you after the late Queen Aemma or after Viserys mother Alyssa. But your father Laenor wanted a name for you which no Targaryen or Velaryon had yet.

Rhaenyra and Viserys agreed that you need an exceptional name, one that nobody will ever forget. And so they decided to name you

y/n Velaryon.

A few weeks after your birth, there were many rumors about you and your mother. Many believed you were the true-born daughter to Prince Daemon Targaryen with Princess Rhaenyra. Viserys didn’t want to hear any of these rumours, for him you were his true-born granddaughter.

After you were born in King’s Landing, your parents made a big feast in celebration. Many lords and ladies from everywhere of the realm have arrived to see you and to be able to be there at your feast.

Your mother and father received many congratulations for your birth and many gifts were brought for you. You also received a gift from your aunt Lady Laena. After she heard about your birth, she went to the nest of her she-dragon Vhagar and chosed a black egg with red stripes for you.

That evening you were also named as the heiress of the iron throne. Both your mother and grandfather adhered to the tradition that the first-born child, whether boy or girl should inherit the throne.

But for many Lords of the realm and most of all for the Hightowers, it was bad enough that your mother Princess Rhaenyra was named as heiress of the iron throne.

But when you another princess were named as the next heiress, the protests among the lords became more, for them neither you or your mother were the rightful heirs but Aegon Targaryen your uncle and the firstborn son of the King.

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targayrenss · 9 months

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A Dance With Dragons (I) -Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon Oc

pairing:Daemon Targaryen x Velaryon Oc

Content: Incest, Age-Gap,Angst

Jocelyn had never met her father's sister, but according to him, they were both very alike.

After her uncomfortable funeral, Jocelyn decided to go to the beach to soak her feet a bit, that was the excuse she gave her mother to get out of that uncomfortable place.

Looking at the sea she thought about how nice it would be to have a funeral like her aunt's, they were born from the sea and in her death they would return to hers, Jocelyn always thought of her as more Velaryon than Targaryen.

She loved her mother's house, she loved her dragon, star, she and her dragon shared a very special bond, Jocelyn loved everything about her dragon, from her star-like white eyes to her sea-blue scales.

She knew that one day it would be the dragon of one of her future children that would burn her body, she would rather become another fish in the sea than be reduced to ashes.

"I see your father didn't lie when he said you're the spitting image of him." Jocelyn tilted her head to see the owner of that voice.

Daemon Targaryen, Jocelyn had never met her uncle nor was she interested in doing so, and apparently her mother had no interest in her meeting him either.

—Uncle, I am very sorry for your loss, I would have loved to meet my aunt, my father always tells me the stories of his childhood shared with his sister

Daemon didn't answer but smiled at her, Jocelyn thought that was it so she turned her gaze back to the sea.

The prince took a seat on the sand next to her—It's beautiful, isn't it? I've never been so interested in the sea but now I can see how beautiful it is.

Jocelyn just nodded.

As she watched the sea, Daemon looked at her.

Jocelyn doubted if what she was going to ask was appropriate, she was comfortable and she was afraid that her question would ruin everything.

—Do you think I'll be a good queen?

-Who are they?

—Everyone! Everyone will hate me, they minimized my reign, the mother says that I will get married soon, the people will see my husband as their king, not as a king consort.

Smart girl, she was right in everything she said but at least she knows the truth, not like her mother who is completely blind to people's opinions.

—Whether they hate you or not, they will have to accept you as their queen, and if they don't, don't hesitate to burn them to ashes.

Jocelyn and Daemon looked at each other, both smiling at each other.

"My prince! Princess! His presence is requested in the throne room." The guard looked quite agitated.

Daemon took Jocelyn's shoulder and led them both into the living room.

The closer they got they could hear the screams coming from inside, Jocelyn hurried on until she flung open the door.

Everyone's attention fell on the young princess and the Daemon prince.

“Luke! Jace! What happened?” Jocelyn knelt down to her smallest brother's level, “Come on, show your sister.

“They attacked me!” Jocelyn looked from her to Aemond, the poor man mutilated.

Jocelyn shared a look with Daemon which did not go unnoticed by Rhaenyra.

She didn't know when or how, but the queen had thrown herself at her mother with a knife in her hand, managing to make a big cut on her arm.

"Enough, we can't go on like this! We're family!" Viserys yelled at everyone, "I'm not going to allow this family to separate anymore."

Jocelyn felt the king's gaze on her.

"My granddaughter, Jocelyn, and my son Aegon will marry, they will both inherit Dragonstone, and when their time comes, they will both reign together."

"Father." Rhaenyra tried to convince her father that this was a bad idea.

—It's an order! My granddaughter has already bled but she will be until she is sixteen days old when they should get married.

Jocelyn couldn't believe that she would have to marry Aegon, it was the compensation prize for a fight neither of them were involved in.

She went to sleep thinking that everything would improve but she did not, when she woke up she went directly to her father's funeral.

When her father's ashes were thrown into the sea, she Jocelyn headed to the beach hoping that if she went into the sea she would feel her father one last time.

Lost in her thoughts, she did not hear the footsteps that followed her.

"Sorry for your loss, niece."

Jocelyn was slow to answer, once again wondering if what was about to come out of her mouth was for the best, but she did.

I need you to do something for me, man.

Jocelyn turned back, seeing her uncle, he had more than thirty days of his name, he was taller than her, Jocelyn thought that even if she wasn't a girl he would still be taller than her, his eyes are the darkest violet she has ever seen.

"Take me to Dragonstone and make me your wife."

#daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x targaryen reader #Daemon targayen x oc #Daemon targaryen x velaryon oc #Daemon x you #daemon targaryen smut #hotd fanfic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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AITA for refusing to let my mom's cat in from the catio at night?

I (F19) live with my mom (F49) in two bedroom house. We live together because neither of us could afford to live alone, and I have really bad anxiety and don't want to try and find a stranger to be my roommate. My mom's room is at the back of the house and mine is at the front. I have plenty of privacy and time alone, and me and my mom both work so we hardly ever see each other or fight about anything at all except her cat.

Our front porch is a sunroom fully enclosed by windows, and my mom likes to let her cat out there to soak in the sun and watch cars and birds go by. The cat is not outside and can't get outside, and she has water and food and two litter boxes and a cat tree out there. It's basically her paradise, and she never wants to come in. But my mom doesn't like her staying out there at night because she's afraid someone could see her through the window and come in and steal her.

So because my room is right by the front door and hers is down the hall, every night my mom blows up my phone telling me to go let her baby in. If I ignore it she gets up and comes to my door to tell me to let the cat in, even though she's now up and could do it herself.

I tried to talk to her about it, because I get home later than her (around 6pm) and always bring the cat in me when I get home, but then she puts the cat back out and wants me to let her in around 9 or 10pm when I'm either playing games, talking to friends, or getting ready for bed. She says she lets the cat out there because she wants back out and will cry if she doesn't. I say ok, then since she's your cat and you're letting her out why can't you let her back in? She doesn't see why it's a big deal, why do I hate her cat, why am I being so lazy, why do I turn everything into an argument, etc etc.

The other night she texted me to let the cat in and I said "I didn't let her out so I'm not bringing her in," she called my phone and started yelling about how she didn't LET the cat out, the cat RAN out. I'm honestly so annoyed so I said something like "yeah because you have no arms and legs and don't know how to catch a cat," and she yells some more and hangs up on me. Later I see she made a Facebook post talking about how I'm so argumentative over every little thing, and my aunts and uncles are commenting that I should just listen to my mother. But I don't think I'm in the wrong here. Am I?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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judgementdaysunshine · 4 months

Text

Still have a family

Pairing: Damian Priest x Fem reader x Rhea Ripley

Description: You're family disowned you for being bisexual leading both your partners families becoming your own

Tears brim in your eyes seeing a picture of your family that was posted by your aunt with the caption "Our wonderful family" as Damian sits beside you watching you turn your phone off and trying to keep the tears in. He gently tilts your face as the tears finally pour down your face bursting into quiet sobs pulling you into his arms as Rhea walks back in the room from showering immediately caressing your face as your body shook and heartbreaking cries echoed throughout the room slowly opening up about why you didn't have any contact with your family "I came out when I was fifteen and...let's just say things went into chaos leading me to live with my uncle who accepted me other than my siblings, nephews, and my friends" they knew that you were out but didn't not know the real reaction of most of your family until now after finding out that you would be spending the next few weeks with rhea's family then damian's after feeling bad that they had reopened your old wounds. A week later the three of you go to Australia and spend the month with her family immediately becoming inseparable with her Nonna who adored you sweetly becoming a nonna to you as well, the rest of her family also welcomed you and loved you immensely feeling like you had known them for years even though this was the first time you officially met them leaving rhea a puddle on the floor whenever she would see you and her mom in the garden, cooking with her nonna, joking and helping her dad with the internet, and giving advice to her little sister when she couldn't watching with a big smile whenever she would walk in on a moment between you and any of her family until the three of you left and went to Puerto Rico to stay the next month with damian's family, his mom and sister immediately loved you always taking you with them when they would go out even to the small vendors you'd be with them and his dad also loved you always showing you off as if you were his daughter and always calling you his baby girl which made your heart swell and damian only fall for you even more seeing you with three people he lived most other than you and rhea. By the time the three of you came home you had started calling damian's parents mamá and papá while you called rhea's parents ma and dad even spending weeks with one of their parents while they were on the road when you couldn't travel with them leading to you slowly opening up to both families who love you more and made you feel not only accepted but that you had something better than your family and that was two small families blended together and making it bigger spending holidays and birthdays with everyone, spending mother's day with both moms and nonna then father's day with both dads always being showered in unconditional love more than you ever had been loved your whole life intertwining your handa with your two dads as they walk you down the aisle giving you away to your partners on the happiest day of your life other than meeting and knowing your newfound family.

#rhea ripley #damian priest x reader #wwe #rhea ripley x reader #damian priest #damian priest x reader x rhea ripley #wwe x reader #rhea ripley x reader x damian priest

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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

you wanna talk about it?

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 1,874

warnings: swearing, anxiety, anxious habits (lip picking), mentions of blood, reader has family struggles to work through, insecurities (brief mention of weight/looks), vulnerability, mentions of alcohol drinking, fluff

a/n: hi! this is meant to be some holiday season comfort. i know that spending time with family can be hard, or stressful, or annoying, and i'm struggling with it, so i wanted to *hopefully* provide you with some support if you're feeling any of this!! this was very self-indulgent, but i hope that maybe you'll like it. i love you all. <333 (also please come back to this gif when you're done. i imagine this is how he's looking at you.)

————

"What's the matter?"

Billy's hand slid into yours, palm warm and audibly rough. He was sat on the couch next to you, where you hadn't realized he was paying you any attention.

Your leg was bouncing up a storm, a constant shake. On top of that, your middle finger and thumb were picking at the skin of your bottom lip.

He was sure you'd drawn blood by now, considering the way your eyes fluttered shut when you ran your tongue along the fragile skin.

You were no stranger to these feelings, shit, they'd become all you knew. And Billy wasn't either. He'd been anxious his whole life, so he knew when you were feeling that way too, no matter how much you tried to keep it to yourself.

You looked down at his hand in yours before pulling your fingers away from your lips and sitting on them. Busted.

"Just really don't wanna see them today."

"I know, baby."

He squeezed your hand.

Your home life hadn't been anything like Billy's, and while you were grateful that it hadn't been that hard, that's not to say it wasn't at all. Not to say your parents hadn't made you feel less than sometimes, hadn't listened to you, or hadn't made you feel like a burden.

Billy understood what that felt like. "Shared trauma" and all that.

Outside a few visits with Susan, mainly because he loved Max, and Max did have a present mother (even if she wasn't the best), unlike himself, that was it for Billy's "family" interactions. He didn't see Neil anymore at all. You and Max were the extent of his real family, and he liked it that way.

So when you had to see your family, your parents and aunts and uncles and all that extended bullshit, the few times you couldn't get away with—like during the holidays—he tried to be there for you. He wanted to be there for you.

Billy let go of your hand, moved away from you. You watched as he settled against the arm of the couch, stretching his legs out and spreading them wide. He held his arms aloft. "C'mere."

You did, wiggling into the space he'd left for you, back to his chest, arms resting on his thick thighs. He closed his legs a little, trapping you in his space, keeping you safe. That's how it felt when you sat like this. Like nothing bad could happen since he was right there.

Billy's chin came to rest on the top of your head, hands rubbing at your shoulders, gently messing with your hair. "You wanna talk about it? What exactly it is that's buggin' you about seeing them?"

You slid down further in his lap, and Billy wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you from completely escaping him.

"It's just that...they've always got something to say. About my weight, or my hair, or what I'm wearing, or i-if i talk too loud."

That one struck a nerve for Billy. He knew that when you got excited about something, you tended to get a little louder. It was a side effect of you being happy. He loved it and it had never bothered him. Knowing that you'd been shutting those things off because of your family hurt him.

"If I don't talk enough, if I'm too quiet," you continued.

Billy hummed in acknowledgment, signaling to you to keep going. His hands rubbed at the soft skin of your tummy, kneading at the fat there, comforting you.

"And they ask me these surface level questions, you know? Like fucking small talk, like we aren't family and they don't know me. It'd just be nice to have them ask about my real life, especially when I have to listen to them blab about their endeavors all the time."

"What are you studying? How are you feeling? What are you into? Anything would be nice. I just feel like a stranger when I'm there. And half the time it's like they forget I'm even there. Sometimes I think that genuinely no one would notice if I was there or not. I really don't think it makes a difference whether or not I show."

After that, you took a deep breath, and quieted. Billy didn't say anything for a moment, processing.

"Would it be okay if I talked shit about your family for a moment?"

Billy had been around them a good bit after having been with you for so long, enough to know when they said things that upset you, to see how they interacted with each other and then with you.

Your family hadn't always been like that. So standoffish.

It was as you got older, and got to know them as people, grew into your own, that you realized they were kind of assholes sometimes.

And it felt like you didn't fit in anymore. Like maybe you hadn't turned out like they'd wanted. And even if that wasn't the case, that's how they made you feel because you were different.

Quiet. Hardworking. You had dreams and ambitions and didn't want to live in the same place forever like they had, send your kids to the same schools they'd gone to. Hell, you didn't even want children.

And you had Billy. It was the two of you against the world. This boy with long hair and an earring and a growing collection of leather accoutrements.

Billy was determined to make you feel seen as you'd done for him. And recently you were trying to open up about these feelings to your family, slowly, but surely. It was a process.

"Yeah, go ahead," you laughed a little, "I really don't mind."

You snuggled further into Billy's chest, and he squeezed you. He smelled like his woody cologne, of his shampoo, and of cinnamon from the apple pie he'd made earlier. He smelled like home.

"I really fuckin' hate that they've made you feel this way. Like you're an outcast in your own family just because you're not an asshole who likes to talk about everyone else's bullshit. I mean, last time we were there, your cousins talked out of their asses about their friends. What the hell is that about? If they don't like 'em, I really don't know why they're friends at all."

"And I hate that they talk over you, and make jokes when you're loud like the whole neighborhood can't hear them blabbing anyways."

"I just want you to know that I'm here and I see you and I love all the little things about you that they might not." He planted a kiss on your forehead, lips warm and a little chapped because of the weather.

"It kills me that you think no one would notice if you were gone. I know you mean them, obviously, but I can't do this without you, you know."

You could feel his nose rubbing across your scalp, breathing you in.

"And I'll play spoons with you tonight even if no one else wants to and it's not technically supposed to be a two person game. Though I can't promise it won't get violent."

You sat up, and he let you move until you were straddling his legs, both hands firmly settled on his cheeks. You didn't say anything for a little while, squishing his face up with your hands, making him grumpier by the minute.

Though he didn't push you off, because he secretly liked it. You stared at Billy, running the pad of your thumb over the tips of his eyelashes, through the slit in his eyebrow, over the freckles at the tops of his cheeks.

"You are very aggressive at spoons. But it's worth it to see you wrestle over one with my sister. And better when you win."

Billy's cheeks flushed pink and you giggled. He always said you were the only person who'd ever been able to fluster him so easily.

You thought about his other words for a second. "So that means you like it when I squish up your pretty face like this?" He grinned and pried a hand away from his temple to kiss your palm.

"No. I fucking hate it."

You smiled at him, admiring the way he was looking at you. "Thank you for saying all that. Also I'm going to be sincere with you if you need to take a deep breath."

You watched as he dramatically inhaled, and then you dropped your hands to his lap, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"I really appreciate that you notice all of the little things and that you support me and everything. I can't do this without you either. I love you, Billy."

He lifted your chin up to make you meet his eyes. "I love you too, Y/N."

When Billy kissed you, it wasn't urgent or rough. It was sweet, and he took his time, pressing all of his feelings and admiration for you directly against your mouth. And it took your breath away.

————

That night, your family asked questions about what you wanted to do after college, what you hoped to do. They asked the same of Billy. You blushed at the idea of him being a mechanic, of having his own shop.

You were thinking about Billy written in little red letters on a gray uniform, him having his hair tied up, when the very same boy set apple pie down in front of you. He'd been simultaneously fixing pie and talking, ever the charmer.

He clocked your flustered look, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he sat next to you.

"Proud of you. Being so strong."

You could've melted. Become one with the wooden chair beneath your ass.

Your grandmother, who you'd talked to about your feelings, and you thought maybe Billy had too, noticed when you hadn't said much and would ask you something or just talk to you.

After dessert, a cousin asked if you wanted to play spoons. It ended up being a whole group game, and unnecessarily aggressive.

At the end, it was down to you and Billy. You watched him shuffle the cards, silver rings glinting under the overhead light. He smirked at you while separating out your cards.

"Good luck, baby."

"Fuck you, Hargrove."

Billy laughed loudly, tossing his head back in glee at your competitive streak.

Table strewn with reds and blues, kings and queens, you had three sevens. Your heart was pounding as you watch not only Billy's hands, but the cards he was practically launching across the wooden surface at you. Your family watched from either side of the two of you, biting their nails or taking shots.

Queen, three, three, five, seven.

You almost screamed. You tucked the card in your hand and reached, snatching the metal spoon off of the table and slamming your cards down as you did.

You laughed maniacally. "Suck my dick, Hargrove!"

You'd never won against him before. This was groundbreaking.

Billy stood up. "You fucker. You little shit." There was no venom in his words though, as he was smiling the whole time.

He pulled you into him, smacking a kiss on your lips. "Congratulations, baby. We're going again though."

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x gn!reader #billy hargrove comfort #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove one shot #christmas fic #holiday fic #billy hargrove christmas fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy stranger things #savannah’s fics

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