#I didn’t know if you wanted them separate or combined so I did both! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fatuismooches · 2 years

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I was wondering for poly harbingers (except Pulcinella cuz he's like my father figure) what would it be like if like the reader fell first but obviously since everyone of them r harbingers they're terrible at feelings and reader is always trying to get them to love them but after a while they just give up and leave snezhanya and that's when the grovelling starts? Sorry u can ignore this if u want <3

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(not really a request it's more brainrot but I still wanted to send this hdjshdb) Imagine being a new recruit to the Fatui and end up becoming all of the harbingers favorite,,, like you're just a new cicin mage or agent and they all dote on you and can and will spoil you rotten,,,I just love the harbingers being soft gidigsigdsgi <3

♡ 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♡

synopsis: When you fell in love with the Harbingers, you already knew that they didn't do love, or feelings, or emotions. You knew that, but it still hurt when you kept trying your best to woo them, but to no avail. Thankfully, things turn around.

includes: all harbingers (except pulcinella) w/ gn! reader

notes: To both these anons, yes!! This is so cute! (I kinda combined two asks and sent them in as one myself. Also, this turned into my just spewing my thoughts around, so apologies if it's kinda messy.) I want them all to hug me. NOW!

Everyone joins the Fatui for different reasons. Some to become stronger, to get paid to support their families, some to faithfully serve the Tsaritsa, and some to climb the ranks. Your reason, however, had nothing to do with that. It might be stupid- no, actually it is dumb, but you joined simply because you thought all the Harbingers were handsome, gorgeous, beautiful, and everything else. (Minus Pulcinella, you daydreamed of him being your grandpa, telling you stories from long ago, and eating cookies you baked together.) Capitano? Even with the helmet, he still managed to woo you. La Signora? You admired her confidence and the long hair that flowed after her. Dottore? He’d probably kill you but you were determined. Arlecchino? Her permanent resting face was still attractive. You could go on about all the Harbingers… but the main point was that you made it your goal to gain all of their attention. (Your ambition probably rivaled Childe’s, and for the least sane reasons.)

You couldn’t bear the embarrassment of messing up in front of the Harbingers so you trained a long time before you joined the Fatui. You may not have a Vision, but you could still kick serious ass. You hoped that your skill would eventually catch the attention of at least one of the Harbingers. And what did you know - your hopes and efforts paid off. The day had come when all the new recruits would have their first training battles with each other. Everyone would be separated randomly into eleven groups with a Harbinger watching over each. Who would you get? You’d be fine with anyone really. You and the other recruits uniformly filed into the arena and there he was - Capitano. He was so well formed, dwarfing everyone else, and he was even more attractive up close, but also more intimidating up close. He didn’t notice you, of course, but nothing would stop you. You heard some relieved sighs from the others. Capitano was much more composed and didn’t have a bad temper like some of the other Harbingers. (We won’t mention names.)

Soon, you were paired with other random recruits to spar, and it was a cakewalk. You didn’t even need to use the wooden sword - you could easily trip them on their own feet by dodging their attacks. You could feel a lot of eyes on you due to all the wins you were effortlessly getting. Oh, and you could feel that especially intense gaze, belonging none other to the Harbinger. Oh, how giddy you were for him to talk to you. And he did! Not as quick as you hoped, but you were prepared to wait a long time. Since that day, the higher-ups ranking below the Harbingers saw you as someone reliable and assigned you more tasks than the average recruit, which led to your deeply desired meetings with the Harbingers.

The first Harbinger got to speak more than a couple of words first was Childe. He was always looking for a good fight, so when he heard of your abilities, he couldn’t help but seek you out and ask for a sparring match. You were ecstatic and accepted, and you lost, of course, but training with Childe had put you in a great mood. And furthermore, he complimented your abilities and urged you to keep training, so he could keep sparring with you. You could have cried tears of joy right there. Since then, the Eleventh Harbinger began to see you more and more.

As you climbed the ranks, people talked about you more and more. You didn’t care much for their attention, but you really hoped the Harbingers were hearing about you too. For some reason, you were assigned to a specific squad, and you were more running around helping each Harbinger’s division. (You didn’t complain though - you had the chance to familiarize yourself with each section.)

It had been a while since you joined, but you finally had it. You had the honor of delivering paperwork and reports directly to each Harbinger. You could finally see them up close. Scaramouche, who sneered and rolled his eyes at you for a while, but grew curious when you’d keep coming back with a smile on your face. Arlecchino who gave you the same cold look every day but was surprised to see you play with the orphans. Childe who waved you over and called you comrade. Capitano and Pierro who nodded at you politely and went back to their work. Dottore who did his usual crazy and maniacal things but grew interested when you weren’t that phased. Columbina who was usually asleep or singing to herself but began conversing with you after many meetings. La Signora who grew fond of you after all the other recruits pushed you to deliver any news to her because they were too scared. Pantalone who teases you with his velvety voice and kept offering you a job as his personal secretary. Sandrone who doesn’t say much but lets you look at her robots since you’re the only one who's not scared. And Pulcinella… the one who is being your father figure and dropping some fun facts about the other Harbingers without their knowledge.

You had worked your way up to the point that they could remember your name and face, which was amazing considering how many recruits there are. With this, you began to try and actually talk to them more. Pretty much all the recruits were terrified of saying anything more than “Yes, Lord Harbinger” to them so to hear you actually voice your thoughts was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. If it were anyone else, they’d be punished by now, but you were different, for some reason. The more friendly ones would sometimes invite you to their office during their breaks. Another would forcibly drag you from whatever you were doing to follow him around (totally not Scara.) Some would lock you up in their labs with them and order you to help them with their experiments. And sometimes, you’d find gifts in your living quarters. Soon enough, every time you appeared, you were at the side of a Harbinger. The more you were in their presence, the more and more you loved them. You had garnered that all of them had some terrible backstory and all you really wanted to do was share your feelings and make them feel warm inside.

The only thing was, no matter how hard you tried to drop any hints, or get them to engage in conversations other than work, was fruitless. Even when you got promoted to Harbinger status, your main job was to assist others in their work. So you did, but along with basic things that they forgot to do. Simple meals, each catered to their liking, coffee or tea, made how they like it best, frequently sat on their desk, made by you. That huge stack of documents? Already signed off by you. Little trinkets you thought they’d like were given. But they still didn’t catch on to how much you liked them?! You were literally doing everything besides kissing them at this point. It was starting to give you a headache.

You kind of felt stupid and sad, to put this much time and effort into this plan, only for the rest of the Harbingers to treat you mostly as their colleague. But this was incredibly stupid in the first place so you couldn’t really blame anyone. You knew they were horrible with feelings, but… damn, it was really bad. And now you were a damn Harbinger so you couldn’t exactly leave the organization. Since you were a new Harbinger, you weren’t required to leave the nation for some time, but you needed some time alone, so you directly applied to the Tsaritsa to send you out to a foreign nation for some mission. Little did you know about the switch-up that was about to happen.

For once, the Harbingers were grateful for Scaramouche’s confrontational nature. After hearing news of your possible departure from Snezhnaya, all the Harbingers were suddenly wide awake and with the same question - Why are you leaving, and why do they feel so irritated at the loss of your presence? Thankfully, they could leave the first question up to the Sixth Harbinger while they listened on from far away.

A sudden call of your name and hard, impatient footsteps behind you stopped you in your tracks. Anyone in the Fatui could easily recognize those ones. You turned around and saw a very peeved Scaramouche. Before you could greet him, he crossed his arms and spoke.

“Why are you leaving?”

“What do you mean?”

He scowled, “Why are you leaving this nation? There is no reason for you to go.” You didn’t know the news would spread so fast, and that he of all people would be the first to say something.

“I’ve just decided I need more real experience to better complete my duties,” you lied. Hell, you’d stay here forever if you could but it just hurt to see the Harbinger’s faces every day and not have your relationships progress.

“What about your duties here? You’re supposed to help us.” To be honest, Scaramouche could care less about duties and whatnot, he just had this nagging, irritating feeling of loneliness that kept popping up when he thought of you leaving for months on end.

“Well, there’s a hundred other recruits you can ask for help. From what I can remember, last time you got mad at me because your coffee wasn’t bitter enough,” you frowned back. “Everyone’s survived without me before, I think you can survive without me again.” You didn’t mean to add that much sass but you just left before the situation escalated.

Scaramouche and the other hidden Harbingers watched you leave. They didn’t mean to come off that way… they just have shitty communication skills.

I have to throw this in but- Grandpa Pulcinella who scolds the hell out of the other Harbingers for their denseness and communication. Has to actually explain to them that you’re relatively normal compared to them, so you’re expecting normal interactions in return. And that they have to start doing better before you ditch their asses. So now, the Harbingers are very out of characteristically groveling to silently convince you to stay.

Scaramouche has to physically bite down on his tongue to prevent any accidental snarkiness from coming out. It’s not that he wants to be that mean, it’s just his natural reflex to say something like that after every sentence. Orders you to accompany him to places but he just walks around randomly while you ask where exactly you’re going. Allows himself to become softer in your presence because he doesn’t want to lose you. He has been betrayed enough times, he doesn’t want to see you go.

Capitano makes an effort to frequently invite you to his office so he can just listen to you talk. Also thanks you a lot for everything. He’s very unsure about how to treat you in the best way possible. So he just listens to you talk and secretly takes notes instead of doing paperwork. Also is scared to initiate any physical contact because he’s afraid of breaking you somehow, is jealous of the other Harbingers for this reason. Also opens doors for you, I just see him as a gentleman. Doesn’t know how to tell you not to leave him, so he just comments on how quiet his office will be without you.

La Signora who invites you to go shopping with you many times. Spoils you with the best clothing, cologne/perfume, hair products, and much more. She did have a previous lover so she at least knows about love, she was just hesitant and scared because of how her last relationship ended. But she’s the one whose not afraid to touch you - will curl a lock of hair of yours around her finger and hum, or place her hands on your shoulders, silently conveying that she’d rather have you here, safe in her arms, than outside.

Dottore doesn’t know how to show genuine affection like a regular person so his idea of making you stay is appointing you as his personal assistant who gets special access to his lab, notes, and answers to any questions you want. To an average person, it seems useless, but when the genius mad scientist bestows upon you this, you better at least show your thanks. (It’s so funny to see how he thinks he’s doing good, and you’re just like hmm yea such an interesting bloody fact!) Subtly drops the fact that he can’t do his experiments without your help anymore, which would lead to problems within the Fatui, so you simply must stay.

Childe continues to spar with you, only this time he physically shows you the right form, his strong arms positioned on you. Will painfully lament about how he’ll miss these “little sparring dates.” Cooks your favorite food and coughs about how you won’t get authentic Snezhnaya cuisine anywhere else. Also brings you to his family so Teucer and the other siblings can cry to you about how much they’ll miss you.

Arlecchino is still quiet and cold as usual but makes a much bigger effort to talk more than normal. She lets herself smile now when you’re around inside of restricting it. Is secretly scared of you dying in a foreign land. Also comments about how the kids always look forward to your storytelling and visit.

Sandrone doesn’t know what to tell you in person so she makes cute little robots of your favorite animals that deliver messages to you. She takes inspiration from the notes you leave her and other Harbingers - “Make sure to eat and drink some water <3” or “Please don’t stay up until three AM doing paperwork or experimenting” Sometimes, you write “And Dottore, I don’t want to be woken up by your maniacal laughter that early in the morning. Go to sleep, please. That includes all of you.” The most important note Sandrone sends is “Don’t go.”

Pantalone just spoils you endlessly. Gifts upon gifts upon an immense sum of Mora being deposited into your account. Your whole closet is full of clothes despite the only thing you wear is literally your Harbinger clothes and a big fluffy coat. The one who calls you into his office not even to do any work, but to just to flirt with you, show you around his huge mansion, get your opinions and interests so he knows what to buy for you later on. It’s awfully lonely around here when he doesn’t have anyone to spoil, he complains.

Pierro is the one whose old and wise, yet he still has problems dealing with these feelings he always keeps sealed you. He is the Harbinger who you probably see the least, yet you always make an effort to scurry up to him and inquire about his day, because he apparently always looks tired. Pierro doesn’t say much but enjoys these sparks of brightness into his dark life. Gives you advice about anything, your troubles may seem mundane compared to his but he wants you to be stress free. He doesn’t want to intrude on your Harbinger duties, but he really will miss you bouncing around headquarters.

Columbina takes you to visit the most beautiful but unknown places in Snezhnaya, and often falls asleep on you there (you can’t say no to her.) Hums that she’ll be sad to not have anyone as her personal pillow anymore.

You’re pretty much overwhelmed by all this positive attention - you finally did it! And you deliver the news they’ve all been anxiously awaiting: you won’t leave your snowy nation anymore. And that you also have something important to tell them.

At this point, all the Harbingers know that each other has taking a strong liking to you, and all of them are quite literally, ready to fight for your love. That is, until you explain how you love all of them and want to cherish all of them equally. None of them are quite pleased with the arrangement, but they do see how happy you are with each of them, so they won’t say anything. Some of the Harbingers probably grow a bit closer to each other, just by talking about you.

“You know, when we went to Liyue together, we took a lot of pictures together. I’ve even got one of them cuddling their pillow.”

Cue nine other heads snapping in the other direction.

“You brat, don’t hog it to yourself. Give it to me.”

“Indeed, I want a copy as well.”

“I do too, for research purposes.”

“Oh, they look so cute like that!”

After everything is established and such, I can see Scaramouche who bickers with the other Harbingers, especially the lower ranking ones over your time and attention. All of them are possessive but Scaramouche hates almost everyone and has no problem voicing his biting thoughts aloud, while other Harbingers prefer to be more professional and not cause a scene. Surprisingly enough, he gets along a little bit better with Childe (if you count calling him various curses and electrocuting him every five seconds better). Even still, Scara would much rather prefer to keep you to himself, and you do too unless you want him to be scowling at another Harbinger the whole time. And you often spend time with Childe alone too, just because he’s not very close with the others. He has beef with all the women Harbingers, and he’s actually a lot more… sane than the other males, or they’re too high ranking for him to talk to. If anything, he’d love to spend time with you and Capitano just so he can admire both of you and your strength. (It’s more of a pipe dream, but if you manage to make it happen, he’ll be ecstatic.) Hell, you might even be spending time with Childe and grandpa Pulcinella because he thinks of you as his kids, lol. He gives Childe great advice on how he wooed others back in the day. Also, Childe who is arguably the sanest and romantic and is actually knowledgable about this stuff helps the other Harbingers on how to treat you. (Is my bias showing? Sorry.)

Arlecchino and Columbina who like to spend time with you together. Columbina likes to use you two as a pillow as she falls asleep, while you tell both of them about your day. Both of them are the quiet types so they go quite splendidly together with you. La Signora and Sandrone also join sometimes for sleepovers and self-care days (I like to think all the female Harbingers are secretly close with each other and respect each other a bunch <3.) They all would pamper you, all different in the areas they excel in. Columbina and Signora take on your hair, Sandrone has her robots take care of your nails, and Arlecchino helps you with anything else really (she’s at a loss with this kind of stuff so the others teach her.) They’re probably the most harmonic group here, and they don’t mind sharing you, but they tend to scoff at the other men when they’re near you. Also expect lots and LOTS of kisses all over your body with them <3. They all got to destress with you after all these Harbinger duties. Oh, and also expect tea parties with them!

Dottore who also often spends time with you alone because the other harbingers don’t like him very much due to his… you know. If anything, Pantalone or Sandrone usually join in him spending time with you. The former isn’t too scared of Dottore because he provides funding, the latter respects Dottore for his robotic knowledge and tends to actually observe his experiments sometimes. Dottore loses patience with Pantalone more quickly, due to his charming and even flirtatious nature when he’s around you. Dotty likes Sandrone a bit more due to her more subdued and quiet nature. Dottore who will drone on about the most sciency things in order to get anyone else to leave so he can be alone with you.

Capitano and Pierro who like to share you too, are both big, tall, and initially awkward men. (I like to think both of them are on good terms with each other.) Neither of them are sure of how to treat sweet, little you. But they are both so infatuated with you that they just let you take the lead for now. The two of them are more on the quiet, gentle giant (and also very much overworked) so they enjoy the calm and peaceful activities. (I don’t know why, but I imagine picnics with the two of them, where Capitano is taking up half of the blanket and sitting with his legs to his chest.)

All of your lovers fight over who gets to take you with them on their mission outside Snezhnaya. (They’re coming with me to Inazuma… no, they should come to Liyue with me… actually, they’re staying in Snezhnaya with me.) Most of them are not very fond of each other, but they can come together just a bit, if it’s for you. Also, all the Harbingers wonder if they’re truly worthy of you. They have all this blood and chaos on their hands but you still allow them to hold you and touch you. None of them voice this out loud but they know every one of them thinks the same thing. (Extra - the Tsaritsa who is amused and curious at how you managed to get all her devoted Harbingers wrapped around your finger so quickly. Pulcinella who is initially shocked at the relationship… “youngsters these days” but grows to accept it. Fatui recruits who get whiplash from seeing their cold and stoic Harbingers become nicer in your presence.)

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #fatui x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #scaramouche x reader #pierro x reader #capitano x reader #childe x reader #columbina x reader #la signora x reader #arlecchino x reader #sandrone x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui harbingers

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clarks-letterman · 9 months

Text

VHS Tape 1A - "Sleepover" | Wally Clark x Male!Reader

a/n – THIS is what sent me into a writing slump but lets hope i conquered it by finishing this

Summary – Last night, Wally invited you to a sleepover as a joke, but things turned serious by the end of the night.

warnings – drinking, sex, mentions of anal, oral (wally receiving), pre-death!Wally Clark, dirty talk, 18+, he might be a tad bit ooc!

words — 6.1k

~~~

Life was something that, to you, needed to be treated with the same level of thought and care as with anything else contained within it. You tried to be mindful of your grades at school, steered clear of any and all uses of drugs, especially the lethal ones, and kept your inner circle small for the most part. The teachers addressed you the same way you did them, on a first-name basis. You had practically secured a spot on the faculty-designated pages of the yearbook. That’s why, when Wally's constant teasing about the night you stayed over at his house started up, you almost didn’t believe him.

There was a black spot in your memory, a time when nothing existed to you, but something was there that he knew of. You tried to think back to the moments leading up to everything that had happened, things you knew for sure. It was the Friday before a huge exam that would take place on Monday of the following week, and a folded-up note was passed to you in fourth period–Psychology–from the back of the class. While the teacher was turned away, you carefully unfurled it to get to the message inside. To you, the plans for that night seemed normal enough–a sleepover study session to cram in as much information for the exam with enough booze to calm everyone’s nerves, as explained by Wally’s messy and strung-together letters on the note. It felt a little counter-intuitive, but he insisted on supplying the alcohol. He claimed that it would help encourage others in the class to show up and take their academics seriously, and you were inclined to believe his words. Who didn’t love free drinks and a jock with a nice house to get wasted in?

That was your first mistake, and the second came when he invited you over the day after the so-called sleepover. He flooded your landline with numerous calls, excitedly telling you all about how he got everything from last night on film and that he would be over to pick you up soon. The mere sight of his house from the windshield of his Cutlass jogged your memory. You remembered hesitantly walking up to his door, textbook in hand with a look of awe as you ogled at his house’s exterior. Typically middle class with a clean front exterior combining brick on the first floor and light blue paneling on the second. His house extended into a two-door garage, but both doors were closed the night you went. And the next morning, one was open as he pulled into the right side of the vacant garage. The door slid down behind you, sounding exactly how you wanted the VCR to when Wally inevitably played back last night’s events on tape. Once it shut, the only light emanated from his beamers on the front and back-ends. The light forming a clearing from the shroud of darkness in the room felt exactly like your memory. You knew where to go to learn the truth, and now, it felt like you didn’t know how to turn back.

In the passenger seat, the armrest between you and him wasn’t the only thing separating the two of you. From what Wally hinted at on the ride over, you two seemed to be on the same page last night, and he didn’t mean the textbook.

You sighed, piecing together your own path leading away from it all, “Do I really want to know what happened last night?”

“You definitely do. It was legendary!” Wally insisted.

“As long as it’s not embarrassing…”

If you went into his house, you ran the risk of remembering something you could have lived your whole life not knowing about; something you might end up wishing to forget. But the thought of what exactly happened was too tempting not to find out. How bad could it be? The only way to find out would be to watch it and see what looks like you do things you couldn’t recall.

Wally casually placed a hand on your thigh, “Hey, we were both pretty drunk. And after watching the tape this morning, I can confidently say, I would do everything on it all over again.”

“Pfft. You held the camera, I bet you’re barely in it.” His hand felt out of place, like seeing someone place their palm on an open burner on the stove. Any heat from before didn’t boil over into this morning, though, including your worries leading up to the moment you arrived at his house.

“I was basically your co-star! Here–let’s recreate it.” Wally hopped out the driver’s side of the lowrider, rounding the hood of the car and opening your door. He offered out a hand, but you didn’t take it.

His garage door didn’t stay closed for long, as he had the perfect plan to reenact the interaction that started it all.

“I’ll head in through the door in here, you go to the front door and I’ll be there to answer,” he directed. You did as he said, taking the little paved pathway to his house, picking up on the littlest of details in his front yard to see if anything rang a bell. Nothing. The same could be said as you knocked on his door–the vibrant red facing you with a gold handle and lock above it to fit a jagged-cut Clark house key. The anxious feelings you got standing at his door less than twenty-four hours ago didn’t pull your stomach into knots this time. It was like your body had lived through the feeling of resolve–maybe a forgotten rejection–but your head was still catching up to all of those feelings.

A few seconds went by and you heard the lock click out of place, followed by the door swinging open with the turn of the handle. He answered the door in the same way as he had before: an arm raised above his head, leaning against the door with it and greeting you with a wide smile. The only difference was his clothing. Last night, he donned dark-colored jeans and a forest-green jumper. Today, he wore a lighter shade of blue denim for his pants, mostly to keep it from clashing with his white tee-shirt and navy blue letterman jacket he earned from his dedication to football. On top of his head, he wore a black baseball cap, turned one-hundred and eighty degrees to face backward. There was one accessory missing that greeted you with its eye at the door as well–Wally’s camera. You remembered the video camera he had been waving around in your face when he answered the door. He claimed that it was a gift he received earlier that day and wanted to take it for a test run.

He practically used it as his way of seeing, his way of looking at you, and memorializing something as simple as studying. It felt a bit insincere the first time around like he was just doing it for the proof that he was a nice person to everyone, not just his football team. But right now, you felt more attended to, more cared for by his brown eyes not hidden behind a video camera. Even with his forgiving and welcoming nature, it couldn’t keep you from recalling the meandering conversation you had when you first arrived.

“Remember… anything?” He held the ‘er’ longer than the awkward silence lasted as he moved out of the doorframe, waiting for you to enter the lion’s den. You shook your head, “Just that your house is nice and all.”

The memories started to slowly fade in as he took you inside with him. His house let you in and welcomed you with a warm foyer, brightly lit from floor-to-ceiling windows and thin drapes pulled back to let the light seep in. The furniture, from the kitchen to the living room, looked well lived in, but it hadn’t lost that cozy feeling. There were still many more memories to make on them, but you were concerned about one in particular.

He led you to the same brown leather couch that you felt vaguely acquainted with, and you took a seat on the left end of the couch. He took the right side and left the middle cushion vacant. A mismatched, wavy-patterned chair sat turned to face the couch and the coffee table caught in the crossroads of both directions. You noticed the walls were white with pastel blue accents. Images of ships at sea and framed family photos fill the space between the windows in the room, which made it feel like Wally stared at you from every angle you could think of. Simply looking to the end table to your left brought him closer to you, and when you turned to look at the older version of the man in the photo, he had scooted over to the middle seat.

“I got the tape.” He said. Wally flashed the tape in your direction, looking proud of his creation. In those brief moments, you were able to see the word Sleepover crudely written in black Sharpie. He had already given a title to his film, and maybe you should have been happy that it wasn’t your name followed by the description of something abject.

“Well, put it in!” Your hands waved him off the couch and toward the large entertainment center. At first, it was easy to mistake it for a closet, but as Wally pulled away the two panels in the front, you knew it to house a boxy television. On the shelf below it is a VCR and it’s remote, and on the shelf below that, speakers.

While he put the tape in, you tried channeling any memory of last night from the couch, since you remembered it as the first landmark–besides his kitchen–that would mean anything to you. The note, the car, the couch, the drinks, the textbook–all things you went over and over again in your head, but couldn’t quite figure out what path they were inescapably leading towards. Spontaneity may have been your downfall here, as one unexpected factor revealed on the tape could change the direction the night had gone in. Wally reclaimed his seat on the couch, directly next to you. The tape whirred in the machine as its innards stretched and rolled around various corners to relay its evidence of last night.

The first minutes are nothing much to gawk at. Wally showed himself recording in a mirror, seemingly testing out the device until a knock played out. Holding the camera at chest height during your conversation, he answered his front door as expected. You exchanged greetings and he welcomed you inside.

“Where is everyone?” Watching the recording of yourself felt different. It wasn’t weird or confusing, but you started to notice things about yourself that you wish you could have done in a better manner.

Wally was hidden behind the camera as he spoke, keeping it focused on you. Maybe that’s why you noticed everything–because it was how he had seen it last night. His voice was louder than yours when he spoke thanks to how close the microphone on the camera was to him. “Oh, they’ll be here later. Is that good with you?”

“That’s fine. We’ll get a jump on studying.”

You wanted to cringe, is this how you really acted? Nervous and far too afraid to make a move that you sold yourself as a complete loser to compensate for it. This was a part you painfully remembered from last night but it looked better from your perspective. Looking at the observer to your right, he looked content with himself and the product he created.

You tried to hint that you wanted the jock to fast forward through this preluding embarrassment without giving away how you felt. If you were going to get embarrassed by things from last night, you might as well have seen the worst of it first. “Worst movie ever.”

“Ouch. Does that make me a bad director?” He played along.

“I think it’s just too boring, plus that one actor can’t say his lines right even if the script was in that book.” You note the textbook that you’re still holding on the screen, clutching it as if it were some kind of last-resort barrier between you and Wally. You refused to pay attention to what you were saying, so as not to feel more embarrassed. Thankfully, the director kept commentating over his home movie.

His gaze doesn’t break from the screen. “Harsh critic, I like it. Let me know what you think of the other lead, he seems pretty handsome.”

“It’s pretty bold to have the director star in his own film.”

“You’ll come around to the casting choices. There’s one scene later on that will blow your mind,” he smirked, looking over to you.

These were all things you remembered, and he didn’t seem to get the hint, so you asked him to skip ahead outright. “Mind fast-forwarding? To the good parts, I mean.”

Wally’s smirk dropped and he went back to following your command. He was supposed to be the one helping you live through your irretrievable actions, “Yeah, tell me when.”

Wally peeled himself from the couch, reaching for the remote and hitting one button on it a few times. The footage relayed across the screen became as much of a blur as it felt in your head. The speedy actions and jumps from when Wally would occasionally stop recording felt disorienting, but you noticed a brief flash of an alcohol bottle between shaky shots, “There!”

Wally’s stunning looks were on screen, and you deduced that you held the camera this time. You were in his kitchen, just one room over from his living room with a doorway connecting the two. The doorway, it was visible from your spot on the couch, located to the left of the television stand. Seeing the perspective of the camera made you think that you were standing relatively within the doorway, and Wally stood surrounded by the U-shape of his counter. The pearly white gloss of the counter reminded you of his smile–wide, perfect, everywhere.

The man with those pearly whites ducked below the counter to fetch a bottle of vodka–the sound of a small, whirring machine halting as a door opened played through the screen, suggesting that the Clarks had embellished a wine cooler into their base cabinets. Then, he reached up high to a pantry cabinet emerging from the wall, pulling out two shot glasses. The detail was fuzzy, but you could make out some various juices and zests already prepared for all the woo-woos and cold ducks two rebellious teenagers could want.

“What unit are we on again?” He asked, trying to make small talk.

You reminded him of what the teacher had written in chalk weeks ago. “Interpersonal attraction.”

“What’s that? I totally studied it, I just… forgot.” He said it as if it wasn’t his fault, and it still sounded virtuous as it re-rang in your ear from the stereo. A thought crossed your mind, that, maybe it wasn’t. He excelled at football and could get into college on that, so long as he steered clear of any injuries that would hold him back, which would mean that his grades just had to be good enough. Maybe he was simply a product of his environment, and you couldn’t really blame him for that.

“When someone only sees the positive side of things in a relationship,” you answered.

“I think this study session is going great.” He said while pouring the vodka into both shot glasses. He filled one higher than the other and rounded the counter with both in hand.

“That’s not it, and it really isn’t. We haven’t even gotten to the hard stuff yet.”

“I said I needed something to help us study. I positively think this will loosen you up a little.” Wally offered one of the shots to you, the last frame holding on his charming face.

The camera cut and the scenery around it changed again, but to something familiar. You were back in the living room you currently watched the tape in, but the table in front of you had been moved off to the side. His camera laid on top of it, capturing you and Wally sitting and facing each other, with your textbook on the ground, filling the distance between you and him. The bottle of alcohol had the cap twisted off, resting upright next to Wally, some cut-up limes scattered on a plate next to that, and your shot glasses next to them. Due to the quality of the camera, you couldn’t quite tell how much of the bottle was empty until Wally picked it up.

The angle at which he held it while decanting some into his glass answered your question. You and he must have made a dent in the bottle at that point, and your guard was likely lowered as you felt extremely comfortable around Wally. He topped off the shot glass with the clear courage. “If I get this wrong, this one’s yours.”

Expectedly, the question you fired his way was not met with an acceptable answer. Your mind was trying to think of each question like a teacher, how they would accept and consider his answer compared to other students’ responses. As you drank more due to his inability to take the class seriously, you started to slip away from that teacher mentality. This wasn’t the first time he wagered this bet, and it wasn’t the first time he lost, either. Whether it was intentional or on purpose, you held up your end of it. The video showed you preparing yourself for the shot, shaking out a smattering of salt from the castor, and readying yourself to drop the shot glass and lurch for the lime. Your hands felt almost shaky at his failure, knowing that you were bound to mess up the order of the steps.

He talked you through each step.

“Salt…” You could taste it on your tongue, even now. The same could be said for the saliva left on your hand from where you poured the salt out at.

“The shot…” The cold, thick rim of the glass felt indented into your lips. The feeling of the liquid going down your throat, burning as the dehydration set in lingered just the same.

“Then lime! Oh, yeah!” Wally cheered, looking proud of the teacher he had become to you.

You took a moment to let it sink in. Warmth on your face, soon to be everywhere. Courage building up from nothing into something that would perforate the cover of embarrassment.

Then, you looked down at the textbook. Your eyes alternated the pages beyond pages of information at your hands, having so much to pull from that you undoubtedly knew would be regurgitated on to the test, just less profoundly worded than its primary form. When you looked back up. . . had Wally always looked like that? His dark hair looked darker, and softer, like a fuzzy void to rake your fingers through. He did it just as the thought crossed your mind. No doubt he had to be feeling it, the way the buzz started to become the only voice in your head–a voice without reason, a voice known for speaking its mind.

“What three things make up the triangular theory of love?” You would have said it while halfway out the door, ready for embarrassment and tripping over your wordless apologies on the way out, but you were far too deep into his den to leave.

The answer was simple, and through the haze of last night, you still knew it–intimacy, passion, and commitment. Instead, he said, “You, me, naked.”

As you watched over yourself, you were taken aback by hearing his advances. But you were more ashamed of how you completely brushed it off less than a moment later. “Intimacy is one of them, yeah.”

“Okay, smart guy. I want to see you mess all these up.” He teased.

“You’re on.” He turned the textbook around so that it faced him, on your agreement.

“What is…” He flicked through a few pages and scanned over them briefly. “The reinforcement theory?”

“Uh, it’s when the person gets out something of equal or fair value in relation to what they put in.” You said, reciting it almost word-for-word as it was described on the page.

“Can you give me an example?”

It was hard not to utter the answer to yourself like you were watching a contestant on a game show, but even this one knew the million-dollar dinger. “An employee stays at their job because the pay–”

“A real example.” He interrupted. “Say… I kissed you. What could I get outta that?”

The confident and guided version of yourself from last night stood on their knees, almost crawling over to him as they could hardly keep themselves balanced. They looked so foreign yet so familiar–it was you without layers of fear and cowardice covering your most intimate feelings. Silence fell over the two of you as you fell into him, and then, the soft sound of kissing and pulling away played from the TV. The kiss felt straight out of a rom-com rental, but the moments following were pure and unabashed the-cashier-is-sure-to-check-your-ID-at-the- checkout pornography; you could tell when Wally’s jumper came off, and the kiss started to feel more heated than your face from the alcohol.

Next to you, you felt Wally slump forward on the couch, jutting out his hips. Your eyes stayed glued to the screen, almost entranced by what was happening, until you heard the sound of a zipper being undone. In your peripheral sights, Wally’s hands had undone his fly and the button of his jeans.

“Do you mind?” He asked. For a moment, you thought he meant the video. How he captured both of you embracing each other in a way that would be shown in Health class in the near future, likely titled Everything Not to Do In Sex. The headliner would be something along the lines of where not to touch your partner, as the actions playing out on screen were messy due to inexperience and the disorienting relaxation of being under the influence. He would probably end the viewing session by asking to smash the tape in his backyard or something along those lines, not what he had done instead.

“What–holy shit.” You turned to see his light blue denim and dark red boxers bunched further down along his thighs. He had his cock out, toying with it while it was still soft. His heavy balls sat low enough to rest on the cool leather of his brown couch, being pulled up as he tugged on his dick.

“What?” He refused to stop moving his hand. He kept going, almost at a faster pace when his eyes locked on to you in the present. Maybe you had everything all wrong. Wally wasn’t looking at this with regret, he wanted to enjoy last night. You knew he didn’t fully regret everything, as he stated earlier, but you thought he meant that he learned so much or had a fun night. Not this, and not with you of all people. What you were looking at felt like the result of a cheerleader helping the Split River Devils celebrate their big win of the night.

Your hand pointed out to the image displayed on the screen. Your eyes never once broke from his gaze as you spoke, “It’s me–it’s us–on screen.”

“I know,” he said. His voice stayed the same throughout.

You couldn’t fathom it–he liked it. “And you’re getting off to this?”

“We make a pretty good pair!” He tried to justify himself, finally breaking from the nonchalance to sound happy about it. You assumed that he must have not cared about whether or not you agreed with him, because he stood up seconds later. “Fuck, I have to make this feel better…”

You heard his footsteps grow quieter as he left the room, then returned with what sounded like a spring in his step. His dick flopped up and down as he paced around the couch and back to his proclaimed seat on the couch. In his hand is a silvery Pringles Light potato chip canister, emptied of its retail packaging and filled with two halves of a sponge to make a slit in the middle. “I’ve been blue-balling all morning since I saw this…”

And, suddenly, it became very, very real. He reached for some hand lotion on the table, squirting it into his fleshjack and then into his hand. He lathered the glob on his length, his hand finding a way to spread it along himself with only a few tugs. It was a sign that he was all for it, and you decided that you were, too. Before he could get too far into pleasuring himself, you offered him your hand. You placed it on his thigh, unsure of how far to go that would be considered too close. “I could help.”

“Really? No pressure or anything. I didn’t want you to feel like you have to do anything you, uh, see yourself doing.” He looked at the television again, and you thought that he might be right. If you felt differently about what you did last night after everything had already happened, you could leave. You could pretend that last night and the ensuing morning had never happened, and you could look at Wally the same as you always had–an unattainable crush.

“Really.” You affirmed, completely sure of doing something that you would never forget. The confidence from last night returned, your hand gravitating to his lotioned skin. It had barely sunk in, and it was slick on your hand, emitting a wet cry and earning a moan from Wally. You would have thought the lotion became astringent, as Wally’s thighs tensed and his breathing hitched.

“Are you okay?” You asked, hand freezing all movement on his warmth, but never letting go of it.

“Yeah, I’m just used to my hand doing this part.” He became familiar with it quickly, though. Your hand made haste with the motions of jerking him off. Wally tried to level himself out by slumping further down on the couch, making himself more of a flat canvas for your designs. “But I could get used to this.”

There was one feeling he couldn’t get enough of, though. As your hand skimmed up and down his shaft, it occasionally slipped up over the head of his mushroom tip and teased the sensitive surface. Every time that your hand happened to find its way to his peaking pleasure, his hips jerked up and brought your hand down his shaft, like a drop tower that wasn’t quite ready to plummet into the needy feelings of release. Wally groaned, his head rolling back on the upholstered support backing the leather backrest. His flipped cap nearly got pulled off the top of his head, a sign that could’ve been looked at as him losing his mind over how good it all felt.

You looked over at the screen, seeing things take a sharp turn as you had your legs spread over Wally’s thighs. His legs stuck out, used to the kind of stretching he found himself doing on the field for football practice, and you sat squarely on his upper thighs. One hand stayed glued to his face and slid down to his neck as you explored five percent of the surface, and your other hand journeyed into the deep blue of his jeans. The same hand cupped his growing heat; you could remember the faintest feelings of it now. When he became too big, too rigid for your hand to mold and keep from slipping through your fingers, your hand emersed from his denim confines. The motion kept flowing, though, when your ass had found a way to push him down as he presumably pushed up, an action you felt ready to mimic. His rudimentary fleshlight wouldn’t have to leave him wanting more, and you were sure to make it known.

While he was no longer new in the box, the barrier between the two of you gone and discarded in the recycling, you felt comfortable choosing to come out of yours. “I think I want you to fuck me.”

Just as you were about to step out of its confines, his words snaked around your wrists and tied you down to the box’s cardboard backing. Your motivation was restrained from where he drew the line. “Yeah, you might just want to use that sweet hand for now…”

“Why?”

“Uh, last night… we kind of did anal,” he groaned out. Suddenly, there was a cry from the TV that was unmistakably your voice, “I want you to fuck me!” Wally cleared his throat, “No, we definitely did.”

He stared down the television, entranced by its contents in a matter of seconds. The exact thing he said started to unfold. In the drunken misguidance, he had forgone lube to make the blur tinting his hindsight go a little bit faster. He carried the camera along his body until he held it in front of his face like he had when he first greeted you at the door. There was a slow, disorienting rise as he stood, showing just how tall he was. It was like the peak of the drop tower, when your stomach would twist into knots from knowing what was about to happen. You moved into frame, rubbing the bulge in his jeans as your hands rounded the waistband around to his backside, pulling his denim down.

From the view of its eye, it peered down at his torso wrapped in green knits, his cock quickly springing out and sharing the stage with your face right next to it. It was clear that your box had been perforated, and he was the cause of it.

“Oh, oh fuck. This is my favorite part–too bad my dick looks so fucking small. The TV just doesn’t do it justice, I mean come on! Look at how big it is!”

He must have been referring to the lingering shot of his dick. The camera was still panned down from Wally’s perspective to show his cock at full fuckable potential. He got up and stood next to the image of his dick, comparing the two. Just the sight of the one on his TV made you nervous, but shifting your gaze slightly reminded you that he was painfully bigger than he looked on camera. Eight millimeters of a film reel was such a small space to capture such a big thing on screen, and his twenty-six-inch TV could only do so much to blow up the image.

The picture went dark, and black filled the screen. Wally covered the camera and gave you stage directions on the tape. “Get on the couch, all fours. No. Yeah, yeah–like that.”

You felt a warmth press into your side, Wally rejoining you on the couch again. He held his hands up in the air like he was guilty of a charge you weren’t pressing, “Sorry, not my best work, I know.”

His hand pulled away from the lens. The quality was hazy, indiscernible in some things that it captured as the kitchen light behind Wally blocked his face. But you’re on full display, arching into his touch.

Wally tugged on his cock a few times before seizing all movement, “I could take you up on a handy–fuck, maybe a beej?”

“It might not feel as good as, you know.” You said, quickly averting your eyes from the television by fully shifting your body around and onto the floor. His legs were spread by habit but were now parted by necessity as you kneeled between them.

“A hole’s a hole, I won’t complain.”

His gaze only rested on you for a second, to line himself up at the sweet spot. The point of entry, a familiar place for his dick–your body–but a new place to explore–your mouth. He made sure you were on track to take him all the way down without teeth or a gag reflex getting in the way. One trip down to the base of his cock and he was already looking away, continuing the motion with a more forceful pace to make up for what he was missing.

He looked head-on at the sex tape, seeing the view of the camera as he tried to evoke as much of the feelings from last night from its point of view. Wally imagined the wet, shlurking mouth in front of him was your hole, ready to give the same abuse he gave to your ass last night. Kind words echoed from the TV. He was talking you through the pain and happily giving you pleasure when you started bouncing on his cock. He planned to mimic it at the moment, spouting on about ‘how good you took him’ and praises alike.

Then, he saw himself slamming his hips into you on the screen, your ass smacking against his hips in a way that really demonstrated just how fast he was going. Coupling it with your cries to go ‘harder!’ as you took him, he did it from your past command. You couldn’t speak with a mouthful of him, but he treated it as something you wanted now. Wally shot up from the couch, standing and taking you with him.

His eyes were trained on the screen, moaning as his hands took over from your control. In your peripheral vision, he had propped a leg up on the coffee table to fuck, not just guide you down his length. He would have done the same with his fleshlight and your hole–bending them over the table and fucking them senseless. Your mouth, and now as he reached it, your throat, were treated like those two. His hiked leg flexed and he jutted his hips forward, his pubes bristling your nose and his swinging balls plapping against your chin. Soon, as he plowed your mouth, the sound of him face-fucking you overtook the sex on the screen.

It wasn’t until the sound of you blowing a load of hot white over his chest as he did the same inside of you did he feel fully immersed in last night’s acts. He buried himself deep in your throat one final time and made you swallow what you could, taking a minute to register that he wasn’t fucking your ass.

His hands let go of your head and you pulled off, his come running down your chin and dripping onto him and the carpet. “Jesus, that was a lot…”

Wally handed you some tissues that he must have been expecting to use after watching this tape–since this wasn’t a film worth crying over–and patted the spot on the couch next to him. “How do you feel? Sorry if that was too rough.”

“You’re good, just throw in a warning next time?” You took a few tissues out of the box and cleaned up what you could. Wally filled his expected place on the couch, redressing himself quickly. He leaned towards the table he had just finished using as leverage to fuck your mouth with to get the remote. Silence filled the room as he paused the last few minutes of the tape.

“Deal,” he agreed. You took a seat in his lap this time after cleaning up, “So, is the ending gonna ruin the whole thing?”

“I, I wouldn’t recommend watching it.”

“Seriously? We basically watched the whole thing, let’s see it!” You took the remote from him, hitting the button shaped like a triangle to let it play.

Wally started speaking almost right after the sex on-camera was over, “How do you feel? Owned? Like a good boy–”

Wally lifted the neck of his letterman, burying his face into it as he heard himself say those words. It was good to know he wasn’t happy about everything from last night, but you kind of liked hearing him say it. At least you had proof to get him to do it again.

You were quick to cut him off, though. “Like I’m gonna hurl.”

You swiped the remote from the table, pausing it just as you walked out of frame. “I left because I puked?” “Motion sickness. My fault, some people just can’t handle a long ride.”

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thewulf · 11 months

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Just Keep Swimming || Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Summary: Hi there! If it's not too much trouble can I ask for a hangman x fem!reader kinda enemy to lover fic? There's a new squadron coming to top gun and there is some tension between the two squadron... Read Rest Here

A/N: Another long one! Little bit of made of squadron stuff to make the story flow/work better. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Y/N

Word Count: 9.4k +

“Dory!” Your head snapped up from the manual you were staring at, hopelessly lost in thought, “Are you paying attention, Lieutenant?” Your captain, Kasper, stepped forward eyeing you. He knew you were gone, lost in your head. You didn’t garner your callsign from just any Dory. Too often you’d be lost in thought almost ignoring anything your leadership was trying to teach you. It drove them mad. But it was just you. It helped that you were a damn good pilot. A really good pilot, exceptional even. Best in your squadron. You’d worked hard to be in that position. Putting in more flight hours than anybody around you almost combined. If you wanted to be the best, you had to beat the best. You always knew that.

“Yes Cap.” Nodding your head with the smallest smile spread across your lips you waited for his reaction.

Shaking his head as he stepped forward, he stopped in front of you table, “What did I say about calling me that? Care to share what I was just saying?” He asked glaring right at you. Although he couldn’t hide the hint of a smile that to his lips. You just drew that reaction out of him.

“The enemy will have fighter jets far superior to ours.” Ignoring his first question you paused flashing him the grin you always did when you won the little battle you were having with him, “Which begs the question, what’s our military spending all that money with?” Leaning back in the seat you watched for his reaction intently. This is what you loved to do, flip it around and put the heat on him.

You’d earned a few snickers from your fellow pilots. You’d always been the firecracker of the group. Sort of a loose cannon. You’d argued that it was because you were the only female in the squadron. You had to be a little tougher. A little snarkier. It worked for you though. When you’d finally landed in your squadron, you’d gelled with almost everybody

“That’s a good question. Take it up with the admiral next time you see him.” He sighed knowing better than to challenge you. Even when it didn’t look like you were paying attention you were always listening. You always had to be on. It wasn’t an option for you. If you weren’t on that’d be an excuse to remove you from the group. You’d never be the reason.

You nodded your head taking in what he said, “You know Kasper, I just might. That’s a really good idea.” You grinned seeing the slightly horrified expression. You really just might. You hadn’t a problem taking anything up with your captain. Why not try a little higher?

“Alright, onto the news. We’ll be traveling to Miramar for the next month.” He broke the news so casually it earned confused glances from everybody in the classroom. Miramar meant Top Gun. What in the absolute hell were you being called back to Top Gun for?

“Top Gun?” Cairo, another pilot, asked after registering what he really meant.

His smirk grew to a smile as he remembered his time there. He seemed equally as thrilled as the guys as soon as they realized, “We’re all getting called back to Top Gun. Joining the Dagger Squadron on a mission in Russia.”

Leaning back in the seat you decided to simply listen. Listening as the men erupted in both happiness and confusion. A few with annoyed looks knowing they’d be far away from family for a while. You didn’t know how to feel. It’s probably something dangerous. The last mission you went on being very short of successful it was hard to comprehend going in and doing something even harder.

The Navy employs four separate groups of elite pilots with the best rising pilots as the elder pilots aged out and promoted up. The squadrons consisted of the Dagger Squad stationed at Top Gun in Miramar. Your squad, the Red Rippers out of Virginia. The Wolves down in Texas and the Ace Squad in Nevada.

You’d been stationed in Virginia for the last four years. With the Rippers Squad for the last three. It had been a while since your Squadron flew something incredibly dangerous. The last mission just consisted of you and Red. They didn’t have the semi-fear that you felt hearing that statement.

You’d listened as all the men around you turned from confusion to cheering in glee. Most of them craved the danger. Danger made you nervous. You had to hide your fears as you feigned a smile. Playing into the cheers.

“A joint training for four weeks followed by a week-long deployment. Captain Mitchell, Maverick, will have more details when we arrive.”

You’d never been on a joint mission between two squads. You’d heard it happen before, but it wasn’t very common. Whatever the hell the mission was must’ve been serious though. Joint trainings were serious business that the Navy spent lots of money on. You knew you had to impress. You needed to redeem yourself. Fly a successful mission. Whatever the hell it took.

“Ten pilots. Five wizzo’s. Will be dropping ten successive bombs over a large intelligence base off the coast of Russia. It’s gone nearly undetected for almost five years. They don’t have a clue we’re onto them though. One pilot to one wingman with a wizzo. Each pair will drop two long range laser guided bomb over a designated part of the facility. The wizzo will guide both bombs in. We’ll be practicing heavily on the drop. There’s hardly any security and we’re planning a Tomahawk attack on the runway.” Mav paused making sure each student was listening. He didn’t know your squadron at all, but he sure had everybody’s attention. You looked around counting everybody. Twenty pilots and ten weapons systems officers gave Mav their full attention.

“You’re a shoe-in.” Jax, one of your very best friends leaned over while poking your side. He never let you forget just how good you actually were.

You shook your head, “You don’t know that. You don’t know how good they are. Didn’t they just like blow up a Uranium plant last year? Living legends.”

He rolled his eyes, “You beat Kasper yesterday Y/N.” It wasn’t often that he was beat, but it always seemed to be at your hands. Still, he got you a majority of the time. For every ten times he beat you, you beat him once in the midst.

“The place must be huge if it needs ten bombs to level it.” Steering the conversation away from topic of you and back onto the mission you didn’t love bragging about yourself. The confidence you exuded was entirely manufactured for visuals

“Five million square feet. Two bombs per million square feet. Rapid succession within twenty seconds of each other. We can’t give them enough time for their defense to scramble. The good news is they’ve never had to worry about any attacks. So, they’ll be a little rusty. We’re going to be testing that. We’ll be dealing with SAM’s. Potentially drones. Recon’s doing more research on the base and its defenses now to confirm. Any questions?” Maverick continued bulldozing through the small side conversations that erupted at each pair at a table.

You nodded your head. You liked him. To the point and simple. He reminded you a lot of your captain, Kasper. He continued as he answered other aviator’s questions. You went into your own head imagining the mission. It didn’t sound overly complicated. Get in, get out and get home.

“Alright, planes up in fifteen.” Mav ordered bringing you right back to the present, “We’ll have Hangman against Dory first. Coyote and Berlin after.”

“Oh, this oughta be easy.” The blonde one laughed patting his partner’s shoulder.

His comment piqued your interest more than you wanted to admit. You didn’t really want to start a fight this early, but he was the one that spoke out first, “Why do you say that?” You turned around asking the man in row in front of you. You really should’ve just walked away. You were sure your first impression of the cocky guy was about to reign true, an utter asshole.

“Honey, you’re walking onto our base. No offense.” He smirked seeing the anger grow slightly on your face. He just loved getting a rise out of anybody that he possibly could, “But if you really have to know sweetheart. We’re the best of the best. Each one of us is better than each one of you.”

You hummed a little amused by the whole situation. This man was cockier than ever. Even finishing his comment with a dazzling smile, you were sure always worked for him. God, you’ve dealt with hundreds of these dickheads too many times before.

Taking a peek behind you, you noticed almost the entirely of your squadron paused turning to this guy. You didn’t like the expression on any of their faces. It seemed like Hangman had already pissed half his squadron off already too, “I wasn’t aware the air is magically different here. We don’t believe in home field advantage.” You laughed softly looking over at Jax who was nodding his head in agreement. The entirety of the squad had your back. Making sure you were good before they went to go get changed.

“We’ll see about that. In the air.” He paused eyeing you. Giving you a once over. Seemingly not used to getting talked back to. It made you smile. You loved taking people out of their comfort zone. It’s how you got to where you were.

You nodded beginning to walk out, “We sure will Hangman. Can’t wait to see you up there.” You’d noticed his last name was Seresin from his name plate. Connecting the dots, you put two and two together. This guy was the one with the second most live air kills, behind Maverick. It was no wonder he was such an arrogant asshole. You wondered how you’d fair in a dogfight had you been given the chance to try. All the missions you flew on were long range missile drops. You hardly encountered any air-to-air combat in your time.

You got the last word as you made a beeline towards the locker room changing for the training session. This was the worst. When your anxiety got the best of you. Nerves so deep it felt like you were choking on them. Luckily your thoughts were interrupted as you heard footsteps come from the entrance of the locker room, “Ignore him. He’s an asshole.” She walked closer holding her hand out, “Natasha, Phoenix.”

Taking it in yours you smiled, “We’ve both dealt with hundreds of him by now, I’m sure. What’s another?”

Her soft snicker could have been taken as innocent, “Hangman is… a very special breed. One of a kind I’m afraid.”

You nodded zipping the front of the suit all the way up. Checking your hair repositioned a few bobby pins making sure no hairs were out of place, “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind. Y/N. Dory.”

“I’ve heard good things.”

You smiled, “Likewise. So, what’s his deal?”

She shrugged, “We call him Bagman for a reason. He’ll leave you high and dry for a shot any day. He’ll play by the rules though. Watch your back.”

You nodded along adjusting your helmet to better fit, “Noted. Watch out for the dickhead.”

That earned a laugh from your fellow pilot, “To say the very least. Good luck out there and please, kick his sorry ass. He needs a good humbling.”

You grinned, “You got it.” Walking out of the locker room you felt that surge of confidence you always felt when you walked to your plane. Man did you love your job.

Being in the air was like nothing else. It came so naturally to you. You flew closely behind Kasper while Hangman flew closely behind Maverick.

“Alright. No going below the hard deck. Hard deck is 2000 feet. No other rules. Fight how you see fit.” Maverick’s voice broke you from the daydream you were in. No rules and a hard deck that low? This was about to be so much fun.

“Mav and I will be in the air to monitor.” Kasper spoke quickly after Mav wrapped it up. You nodded along, easy enough. You’d done these training exercises hundreds of times with the guys in your squad. How much harder could it be with Hangman really?

“What’s the punishment for Dory when she loses?” Hangman chided in before Mav could give you the green light. All you could do was laugh. This fella sure was cocky.

“250 sit-ups for the loser.” You wouldn’t dare let him get the last word in. Plus, you knew how fucking hard sit-ups were for the men in your squadron. They always started crying at 150 while you flew through them, they were cake for you. Just another day of training really.

“That’s a hell of a punishment.” Kasper spoke up. You knew he was shaking his head in that cockpit. He was always shaking his head with a smile on his face. You never ceased to surprise him.

“I like it.” Mav agreed with you, “250 sit-ups for the first person to get shot down. It’s going to be a dogfight. On my command. Go.”

You dove immediately. Your plan was to lose him low in the mountains. They gave you a 20 square mile range to fly in, which wasn’t a lot. The closer you got to the hard deck the harder it would be for him to detect you. You didn’t have time to pay attention to what he was doing. That might’ve been a mistake as he found you easily and was on your tail immediately. You heard your radar beeping as he tried to lock onto to you.

Well shit, he might’ve been better than you were planning to give him credit for. Eyes narrowing you pushed it a little faster to get into the mountains. It was so much easier to dodge lock when you were constantly moving side to side.

“Darling, this is too easy.” He nearly locked on to your jet before you dove even further. He followed relentlessly as you dodged and swerved through the canyons and valleys of the mountain.

“Where are you off too?” He questioned as you pushed him to his limits. It’s a known fact that shorter women pilots were able to take the g-forces far better than their much taller counterparts. But he was handling this well. You just had to hit all those turns just a little bit harder.

You couldn’t seem to shake him as he kept pace with you. It wasn’t easy and you were making it absolutely impossible to get a lock on which was beginning to piss him off. Usually, it only took him a few minutes to take someone out. You were much, much smarter than the guys in his unit. He should’ve known as the only person that could beat him was Natasha. The women had the brains, and he knew it. And you seemed to be even more strategic than Phoenix as you kept diving and rising just to throw him off even further.

And those brains paid off. You knew you couldn’t do this forever. Kasper and Mav would come in and shoot the both of you down. It wasn’t supposed to be a game of cat and mouse but a dogfight instead. Checking out the map you found a straightaway that would let you go up and over without risk of hitting the mountain side.

Hangman was giddy when he saw where you were heading. This was his only literal shot he could get on you. What he certainly didn’t expect was for you begin pulling some Maverick moves. Moves that not even Kasper dared to try. Moves that made even Hangman a little leery to try. Kasper always claimed he loved his life too much to pull the ‘shit that you do’ off.

You pulled up. Before Hangman could follow, he watched as your wings turned down almost stopping you in mid-air nearly halting your speed down to zero knots. Hangman darted right past you. ‘Gotcha’ you whispered to yourself as you hit the stick forward beginning to chase him down.

“Easy my ass.” You giggled speeding right back up hightailing it behind him.

“Fucking serious?” Hangman grumbled as he realized he was now being chased, the mouse. This simply didn’t happen to him. He tried to think fast but you were faster.

“As a damn heart attack, sweetheart.” You locked on before shooting him down.

“Fuck.” Hangman sighed hitting his head against the stick.

“Damn. Good work Dory. That’s a kill.” Maverick chimed back in, “Go ahead and land. Jake, you got 250. Don’t short them.”

“Oh, don’t you worry. I’ll be counting.” You chimed in. Hearing Kasper’s hearty laugh. You knew you made him oh so proud. He defended you until his face was blue. You had to repay him by backing up your mouth that often ran a too far. You hadn’t let him down though. You backed it right on up.

“There’s really no need for that.” Hangman grumbled as you followed him back down to the runway. Both Mav and Kasper were staying up so long as they had fuel guiding the next groups up.

“There really is.” You countered knowing you were slowly driving him up a wall.

“Has anybody ever told you that you were annoying?” You could hear the frustration dripping through his responses. The laugh that followed was sincere.

“All the damn time. In fact, Jax told me that I was this morning.”

“Christ.” He sighed descending down to the landing strip. Coyote and Berlin were lined up ready to take off once the two of you landed.

“Did I just hear a good old Christian country boy take the lords name in vain?” You gasped knowing exactly how to press his buttons. He sure was special but you knew exactly what to do to keep that bark back inside him.

“I’m not responding anymore.” He grumbled. Somehow you knew he had a stupid little smile on his face. You had a big ass smile on your face as you hopped out of the cockpit of your jet once you landed.

Hangman stood by his jet holding his helmet looking pissed at himself. You nearly skipped over thrilled you got the upper hand so easily against him.

“Good job up there.” He grumbled as you approached.

“Is that a compliment?”

He nodded, “One and only.”

You grinned, “I’m honored. Thanks Jake. Now get to it.”

The two of you chatted causally back and forth. The front that he had in front of the other guys nearly vanishing as you started talking. The conversation surprisingly coming very easily between the two of you. Something you hardly expected at the beginning of the day. You wished you knew how rare of an occurrence this was.

“You guys coming to the Hard Deck tonight?” He asked as he finished up the 250. Naturally he did it with ease and didn’t even complain to you once. You had to admit that Phoenix was right. There was something so different about this man.

“That depends. Are we allowed?” You smirked sensing the tension between the two groups of nearly all men early on in the day. You and Natasha got along easily enough the boys should’ve been able to do the same. Naturally, the Dagger Squad wasn’t too thrilled about your groups appearance, especially on their base. There was bound to be undeniable tension. You thought they’d get over it. But no, they could never. They were like dogs marking their territory everywhere.

“You graduated from Top Gun, right?” Jake was full of Jokes. Every class in Top Gun seemed to make their way to the Hard Deck. It was right around the corner from the base, and it was easy going, The two things pilots needed.

Rolling your eyes you nodded, “We’ll be there.”

“I’ll buy you a beer.”

You shook your head while standing up, “No need.”

“Why? Got yourself a man back home?” He smirked wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“I don’t. I can pay for my own drinks. Nothing good happens when a guy buys you a drink.” You hummed beginning your walk back to the locker room. He followed like a little golden retriever puppy right behind you.

“I’d disagree with that.”

“You have your opinions, I have mine.” You shrugged trying your best to keep him behind you. Unlucky for you his stride was much longer than yours, catching up to you like it was nothing.

“Come on sweetheart. Just one?”

“Why are you so adamant Hangman?” You returned his question with one of your own.

“You kicked my ass up there. I think that deserves a drink.” Was he trying to make the peace with you?

“Will it shut you up if I give in?” You didn’t really want to give in, but man was he persistent. Sure, he would’ve kept pestering you all night if you kept the game going.

“You know it darling.” He stopped in front of the door that led to the women’s locker room smirking right down at you.

“Then you can buy me exactly one drink.” You hated giving in but you had a feeling the man you’d simply never stop.

He nodded, “That’s what I like to hear.” He stepped aside heading to change just like you. You took your time putting your regular military khakis back on. Not entirely eager to go sit in a room full of hyped-up men ready to go fly. That was the one downside of going first. Waiting for everybody else to go.

You walked back into the classroom taking a seat at the empty desk. Jax must’ve been coming up since you didn’t see him in the room. You didn’t really feel like listening to the radio, no matter how entertaining.

Hangman’s loud voice pulled you out of the manual you were going through. You suppressed the eye roll when you heard him tell the other guys about how lucky you got up there and that he had you the next time, no problem.

Again, you didn’t want to approach him, but he really didn’t leave you with a choice. You couldn’t let him just sit there and run his mouth.

“Luck?” You laughed behind him as he talked to the guys around him, “That’s not what you said twenty minutes ago, Hangman. Might I repeat what you said? Something about me kicking your ass?”

He turned with wide eyes completely unaware you stood behind him, arms crossed over your chest with an unimpressed look. He kept underestimating you. He needed to knock that off or his reputation would be as good as gone by the time the mission rolled around.

“Yeah,” The one with a mustache behind him agreed with you, “Didn’t sound like much luck on the radio Hangman.” He tipped his head at you as if to thank you. It seemed as though Hangman was a touchy subject even within his own squadron.

He sighed knowing you got the better of him, “Luck and skill.”

“Or just skill. Not all of us need luck to be successful.” You were officially annoyed with this version of Jake. Not the guy who you were chatting with thirty minutes prior. That guy had a personality that was somewhat redeeming. This guy was insufferable.

The one behind him started laughing, “We all get beat Hangman. It’s okay to admit defeat.” He egged him on. You officially liked the dark-haired moustache man. He seemed to find immense enjoyment out of antagonizing the guy. Almost as much as you.

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll see who’s the real winner after the next few weeks.” He couldn’t seem to back down. Not willing to admit defeat just yet.

“We sure will. Can’t wait to find out.” You walked away right back to your seat waiting for the rest of the class to go through their training for the day. Luckily the latest version of the F-18 manual had come out giving you something to scour through as you waited.

Walking into the Hard Deck with Jax had never felt so good. It’d been far too long. The two of you made it over to where the rest of the two squadrons were mingling. The tensions were still a little too high for comfort. Hopefully the alcohol would lower everybody’s hostility not heighten it.

You took a seat next to Berlin and Bob. You’d taken a quick liking to the gentle naturedness of Bob. He sat behind you in class asking you a few questions as the two of you scoured through the new manuals. The only two not actively listening to the radio comms. Quickly you spotted Jake sitting at the bar with Javy. Javy had been one of the few Dagger Squad members to introduce themselves to you. The rest seemingly put off by the extra squad at their base.

Who you didn’t spot was your old partner in the skies, Red, sitting right next to them. He sat next to them in his civilian clothes being as discreet as possible. It’s not that he wanted to hide from you. He just didn’t know what to say to you. It was difficult. The two of you thought you were untouchable in the skies. Until you weren’t.

“Lieutenants.” Red held his beer up to Jake and Javy. You’d turned back to conversation with both Bob and Berlin. The two biggest nerds keeping you enthralled with whatever they kept going on about. It’s not like you understood the physics they kept going on about.

Jake gave him the up and down, unable to figure out who and the hell was talking to them, “Lieutenant?” He questioned back as if to ask who he was.

He nodded, “I once was. Had to retire. My wingman and I took a few nasty hits on our mission months ago. I got stabbed in the eye on my decent down. My wingman almost bled to death. Needless to say, you can’t fly with one eye. Call sign’s Red. Just took a job as a Chief Warrant Officer though.” He held his beer up to the pilots.

“Cheers.” Jake held his beer up. The three of them drinking in silence until Jake couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re wingman. Does he still fly?” He didn’t know why he was so curious but he was.

Jake missed the quick glance he threw you through the crowd, “She does.”

Jake took a long sip of his beer contemplating his next move. Did he really want to know? He did, “What happened then?”

Red sighed leaning his back against the barstool, “Recon didn’t do their job. We got ambushed right in the middle of the mission. It was supposed to be a few long-range bomb drops. No big deal. We’d done it hundreds of times before. This was different though…” He paused looking down like he had failed you, “There were so many SAM’s that we couldn’t shake. She went down defending me. I didn’t last much longer. Got stabbed in the eye by a tree, I think. I don’t really remember. Doctor said I was lucky that’s all that happened. My wingman though. She took the brunt of it. Found her lying in the snow shivering half conscious. When I rolled her over there was a 10-inch cut running right next to her spine. Doctor was amazed she even survived. Said she should’ve died from the blood loss. She got lucky the cut didn’t hit anything crucial. Doc said whatever it was that cut her missed her spine by inches. Miracle really. She made a full recovery in a few months. She’s flying right now.”

“Is she good?” Javy asked, curious as ever.

“Good?” Red laughed thinking of all the stunts you’d pulled over the years, “She’s the best damn pilot I’ve ever gotten the privilege to fly with. She put her life on the line for me and would do it again in a heartbeat. I’d do anything to go fly with her again. But when you lose an entire eye it’s hard to convince the Navy.” The three of them chuckled at his joke around the subject. He was trying to lighten the drawn down mood.

“What’s her name?” Jake asked.

He shook his head, “She wouldn’t want me to say. It’s between the two of us and her squad. She’s not looking for any points.”

That’s when Jake heard your laugh. He turned towards you with a warm smile on his face, “Got it.” Jake failed to turn back towards Red as he collected another beer from Penny for you, “I’m sorry. Not be rude but I told Dory I’d buy her a drink.”

Red laughed unironically and nodded, “Go on. I’m sure she needs it.” The three of them laughed as Jake walked over to you. Javy kept the conversation going with the retired Pilot who was returning as a CWO. He’d gotten fast tracked with the aviation department after the unfortunate incident. That’s why he was here after all. Kasper invited him out to help out with the mission and he jumped at the opportunity. He just hadn’t had the courage to tell you just yet.

Red simply smiled as he watched your face scrunch up as the pilot walked over to you. That was the same damn face you’d make at him for years as the two of you trained together. As much as the two of you got on each other’s nerves you loved the other harder. Red finished the glass that Penny poured him and headed out. Tomorrow. That’s when he’d tell you he was back.

To say the next few weeks were anything but challenging would be a vast understatement. You’d put a target right on your back after handing Hangman that first defeat. Not only was he, but everybody in his damn squadron had it out for you. They had to beat Dory. But you didn’t let them. You had to hand it to everybody though, they were making you the best pilot you could be. Having to be so technically sound and anticipating in the air wasn’t an easy task.

Jake managed to beat you a few times in all the trainings. But you still had the edge. Every two times you beat him, he beat you once. Natasha was right, Hangman was a very special kind of guy. He made you so irate one moment and then had you giggling like a middle school girl with a fiery crush the next.

Just as much as he drove you mad you did the exact same to Jake. He’d never met anybody like you. You were nothing like Natasha but every bit as confident, if not more than the girl. You never seemed to let any comment bring you down only drive you further. He knew what to say to get under your skin. You knew what to say to get under his.

It all hit a breaking point when you and Hangman were against each other again in another dogfight training. Mav and Kasper just seemed to love to pair the two of you up. Neither one of you wanted to give it up in this training session which led to Maverick and Kasper yelling at the both of you on comms to let up, both of you ignoring him, you almost running into Jake and narrowly avoiding the side of the mountain and Jake completely fucking the frame up of his F-18, bending it so it was unflyable as he tried to shoot you down.

To say Maverick gave you an earful was the understatement of the year. Kasper simply stood there and watched as he berated the both of you. Threatening Court Martial and all. Truly, you’d never been so frightened by a leader in the military. Kasper must have noticed the expression on your face as he simply shook his head once Maverick was done tearing into the side of both of you. You felt lucky you weren’t having to go see the Vice Admiral on base, Cyclone. Now that was a terrifying man.

Both you and Jake stood there in silence. Both too afraid to speak or move. You’d surely done it now. Your chances of getting picked for the mission were slim to none now. It was so quiet you were sure that was Jake’s heart you could hear hammering in his chest, or yours.

“That could’ve gone better.” You whispered. It almost sounded like you were yelling it was so quiet in the hanger. The rest of the class was surely in the classroom waiting on you. They definitely heard everything on the radio. You were sure one of them heard the nice ass chewing that just commenced.

“Fuck.” He ran his hands across his face through his hair. You watched as the emotions crossed his face and ended in anger, directed right at you, “What the fuck was that?”

Was he really blaming you? “What was what? We were training.”

“You wouldn’t stop.” He frowned.

“Neither would you!” You mimicked him with a frown right on your face.

“Because you wouldn’t!” He could never be wrong, could he? It’d always be your fucking fault. He was so exhausting. You didn’t know how much more of him you could realistically take. While the highs were very high with the man, the lows were just as low. It was a roller coaster ride you suddenly wanted off of.

“Oh my god. Are you serious right now?” Eyes wide you walked away from him, quickly.

He followed quickly, “What is that you say? As a heart attack.”

You stopped so quickly he almost ran right into you, “Has anybody every told you how insufferable you are?”

The smirk that crossed his face almost made you want to slap him. That’d give him far too much satisfaction though, “All the time.”

Your face saddened just enough to get to him for a second, “I didn’t really think you were Hangman. I thought that was just a front. That’s so… disappointing.” Walking away slowly this time he didn’t dare follow. You hit him right where it hurt. You really thought he was an asshole. All that work he did put in was shattered in an instant. He had to admit he was being a bit of a dick.

Once he made it back to the classroom you were already sitting with Jax. Not daring to take a single look in his direction. Jake saw the comforting squeeze Jax gave you. He knew it was because of him.

Mav went on and on about how we weren’t clicking as a team. You had a sneaking suspicion it was because of the tension between you and Jake. Almost everybody seemed fine besides the two of you. You could only look at your notebook in shame, not daring to look towards the front like you always did.

“Alright. Go to lunch. I don’t want you reporting here after. Get to the Hard Deck. We’ll be playing some good old fashioned dogfight football to get you all gelling just a little bit better.” Mav walked out of the room followed by Kasper.

“The hell is dogfight football?” You asked Jax who looked just as confused as you were.

Bob so kindly explained as best he could. You just knew you were in for a hell of time. After changing and riding to the beach with Jax you both made it out to where most of the squadron already stood. You looked over to Phoenix and Halo noticing they were both in just sports bras and shorts. The t-shirt was already clinging to the sweat on your skin. You really should’ve thought this one through. You pulled on Jax giving him the help me face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked once the two of you were out of ear shot.

“Please tell me you have a tank in your car? I’m too hot in this t-shirt.” Your expression must not have given off how panicked you felt.

He shrugged, “Take it off then?”

You sighed, “What about the big ass scar down my back Jax?”

Scrunching his face, he thought for a second before responding, “Just take it off. Nobody will even notice. It’s a bunch of jacked up dudes ready to go.”

“Really?” You looked at him skeptically.

“Yes, Y/N. You’re fine.”

Rolling your eyes, you slid the shirt off. Back facing the rest of the group. Jax would’ve been right if Jake wasn’t already staring right at you. His eyes crinkled as he took in the sight before him. An almost footlong scar racing down your back had his eyes nearly bugging. That pilot at the bar wasn’t lying. It was you? You should’ve died before Jake was ever going to meet you? That realization just wasn’t okay with him.

His heart started racing as he watched you walk back down the beach towards them with Jax. It hit him that he absolutely loved training with you. There was a world where you probably didn’t make it out of that crash alive and he had to do this without you. That also wasn’t okay with him.

The whole situation wasn’t sitting quite right with him. He was beginning to realize how much he enjoyed having you entangled in his life. How much he loved riling you up. How much he adored seeing you smile at his expense. He loved that smart ass mouth that always seemed to put him in his place. He cherished your presence. You.

He knew he had a whole lot of work to do to change your mind. He was going to have to do the most un-Hangman like things to win you back over. He was going to be himself. That’s when you smiled the most around him. He could do it.

He lined up opposite you on the line, “Hey pretty lady.” He smiled warmly. It turned into a frown when he saw you roll your eyes.

“Really, Hangman?” You spoke his call sign with so much disdain it made the comment sting that much worse.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out, “For earlier, for now. For everything I’ve put you through.” He spoke quickly before the ball was snapped. You gave him a funny look before running off for the play. Was he being serious?

When you lined back up with the next play, he just looked at you, waiting for you to respond, “You’re not joking?”

“No! I’m sorry, I… I have no excuse.” He sighed almost forgetting you were in the middle of a game before you took off again. You were loving this game right now. These runs gave you a chance to think. Not that you’d come up with a good response. You weren’t very good when it came to this stuff. Talking about feelings.

“Okay.” You nodded gaining the courage to look up at him.

His concentration on you broke as he smiled hearing that response. It wasn’t great but it certainly wasn’t bad. You weren’t all out rejecting him at this point, “Okay. Yeah?” He nodded hoping to get something else out of you.

“Yeah. Yeah okay. Sure.” You weren’t sure why any words were coming to your brain.

He laughed at that, “What’s your favorite color?” He asked changing the subject.

You raised an eyebrow before darting off. This time you caught the football scoring one for your team. Jax was right, nobody seemed to give a shit about that red scar. Even if they did, they did a good job hiding it. That or your squad mates threatened them. It certainly wasn’t out of the question.

Both you and Jake were tapped out. He sat next to you again, waiting patiently for your answers, “Sometimes it’s blue, the color of the sky on a bright sunny summer day blue. Sometimes it’s green. Like when you find that perfect Christmas tree on a cool winter day. And sometimes it’s orange. The orange of the sunset when you’re at the beach on a crisp fall night. There’s nothing like it really.” You weren’t lying. Your favorite color rotated just like the seasons seemed too.

“Wow. I was just going to say green.” He coolly scratched the back of his head suddenly feeling terribly less than. How could he keep up with you if that’s how you thought? He knew you were smart not downright brilliant.

You smiled looking up to him, “Nothing wrong with that. You can like green. There doesn’t need to be a reason.”

He shook his head, “And here you are comforting me.” He was at a loss for words as he studied you expression. Suddenly he didn’t give a shit if Bradley or Javy walked over and watched. He didn’t seem to care. It was about you. How could he have been so damn blind not to see it?

You shrugged, “It’s the truth, so.” Playing it off as nothing more you tuned your head towards the setting sun outlining your squad and the dagger squad playing football.

He smiled seeing you so coy. He’d found a weakness. Something he wasn’t planning to exploit, “Do you have any siblings?”

You nodded thinking of your past life. A life so innocent compared to this one, “I do. A younger brother. What about you?”

“A couple of sisters. A few older and one younger.”

You grinned, “Lucky you. Sisters are a blessing.”

“So are brothers.” He countered knowing it’d get a rise out of you.

Raising your eyebrows you continued, “I didn’t say they weren’t.”

He sighed knowing he had to let the ego drop, “They are a blessing. Each one of them. They’d be horrified at how I’ve been treating ya sweetheart.” The term of endearment tumbled out so easily it almost slipped by you.

You prayed your foundation was heavy enough to hide the blush. Having a sneaking suspicion, it wasn’t you continued talking trying to distract him, “If you could only eat one type of cuisine for the rest of your life what would it be?”

He grinned, “I was supposed to be asking you the questions. But to answer yours, it’d have to be Tex-mex. I could eat it all day every day.”

You nodded smiling wide not saying a word.

“What?” His smile was unlike one you’d seen on him. It seemed so genuine and sincere. Like he was smiling at you for this first time.

“That’s the most Texas answer you could’ve given me.” Your grin only widened seeing his smile turn to shock then guffaw.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Can I tell you something?” He asked once his laughter died down. Nodding your head, you watched the game unfold before you. Smiling as you saw Berlin tackle Jax out of the corner of your eye. The boys were having a hell of time.

“Shoot.”

“I find you fascinating.” He stopped before he went on. He knew a big confession was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t yet. Not until you trusted him. He’d started to burn the bridge and he was desperately trying to put that fire out before the bridge snapped.

Shaking your head slightly in disbelief you had a hard time believing him, “What?”

“Absolutely fascinating. And incredibly beautiful. One of the best pilots I’ve flown with. The most unafraid person I’ve worked with… I could go on…”

You stopped him, “Don’t. Thank you.” You smiled to yourself gleefully. How this man could make you feel such things in such a short amount of time.

“Anytime sweetheart.” His goofy grin was noticed by almost everybody playing in front of them. Jax wanted to slap it right off his face. What was more concerning was your face. You looked utterly taken by him. A look he’d quite literally never seen on it before. He wanted so desperately to disapprove but he knew it was bound to happen. The way one moment you complained and the next you had nothing but good things to say gave him whiplash.

Eyes moving up to the handsome man you had to wonder where all of this was coming from? Did your words actually mean something to him? You’d only known him for three fucking weeks, but it felt like three years at this rate. The intensity between the two of you was bubbling up and hitting a head, “Where’s all this coming from Jake?” You had to ask. As fun as it was to play twenty questions with the man you needed to know.

Did he want to tell you he knew? How much your words from earlier already affected him and seeing that fresh scar running down the right side of your spine pushed him over the edge of realization. He liked you. Maybe even more than liked you. He’d never admit that out loud though. He’d never met a woman so sure of herself. It all made sense now. Why he wanted to be around you. Why he found enjoyment poking fun at you. How it hurt him when you were hurt from Mav’s words and his. He realized he never wanted to be the cause of your anguish. Only the root of all your happiness.

“I met a pilot friend of yours at the bar a few weeks ago, Red.” He stated so causally.

Giving him a quizzical look, you had to wonder how in the hell had he known Red? Your guy. Your partner in the sky, “He didn’t tell you…” You paused not sure what the hell you wanted to say. It was never easy admitting when you went down. Nonetheless shouldn’t have survived. It was awkward to talk about. Like you weren’t good enough at your job.

Jake shook his head quickly, “He didn’t say who, he just told Javy and I what happened.”

“How did you know…” Again, it suddenly clicked. The fucking scar that dragged along your back. Nobody noticed it except for Jake, “The scar.” You stated continuing to look ahead letting out the breath you had been holding in.

“He didn’t realize we’d be playing football when he told us the story.” Jake laughed trying to ease your discomfort. He wouldn’t lie about it. That was no way.

“Yeah.” You smiled softly, “I don’t blame him. I’m just glad he’s back. He was talking about retiring for good.” He wasn’t here. He was with Hondo training a few new guys all the ins and outs of the F-18.

“And you?” Jake asked.

You hadn’t really been asked that in the six months since the accident. It was assumed that once the Doctor said you’d make a full recovery you’d be right back on track. That’s what you did. Not even sure if you’d properly processed all the trauma you went through just months prior, “It wasn’t even a thought.”

“Well, I’m glad.” Jake smiled down at you even though you were so intent on staring straight ahead, “I’m happy you’re here.”

“Are you?” You hadn’t a clue where that came from. It’s not like Jake was the worst person you’d come across, but he certainly had shown you a side you weren’t particularly fond of. Even if he had been complimenting you moments before. Finding some courage, you looked back up at him curiously.

He took a second to come up with the right words, “I’m so happy you’re here. You’ve made me a better pilot. A better person. I know how I’ve come off to you and it wasn’t right. It wasn’t fair. When I saw that scar along your back, just like Red was describing I realized a few things. There was a chance that you could’ve never had made it here. You could’ve died before I even got the chance to meet you. It made me realize just how important you are to me. I… I can only apologize for the way I’ve treated you before, but I promise you I won’t do it again.”

Placing your palms behind you in the sand you leaned back taking in every word. Jake was a whole lot of things, but a liar wasn’t one of them, “Okay.”

“Okay.” He continued smiling knowing you weren’t terribly good at words when it came to stuff like this. The dichotomy between your personality, a spit fire in the sky yet too shy to say a word when it came to emotions, “Would you be willing to give me a second shot? I won’t disappoint you this time.”

You nodded, “Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice and I’ll find somebody to kick your ass.”

A hearty laugh escaped his lips, “I’ll let you kick it, how does that sound darling?”

Grinning and nodding it felt good to talk to the man you’ve been harboring a crush on, “That sounds amazing. You better not mess it up again or I’m coming for it.”

“You know, I completely believe you.”

“Good.” You giggled feeling all the tension finally leave your body. It felt so damn good letting it all out in front of him.

He sighed. Looking at him fully you could see there was something bothering him. Like he wanted to keep going but was holding back his tongue.

“Spit it out Jake.” You wanted to roll your eyes, but he was trying. Having battles in his head on how to best handle the situation.

“Are you okay? He said you should’ve died. That… that can’t be easy.”

Were you okay? You still loved being up in the air. You loved everything about flying. In fact, the accident made you only want to become a better one. But were you okay personally? You thought you were. You’d been to a couple of military required therapy sessions that didn’t do a whole lot for you.

“I think so. Haven’t really thought about it much.” Admitting that to him was hard. You were a sure person. Think wasn’t in your vernacular, you knew. But you didn’t know if you were okay. You thought you were, but could you really be?

“Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, “Not anymore. I’ll be honest with you. I don’t remember much. I blacked out.” You took a moment before continuing, “I ejected to late. It’s my own fault but they were going to kill him. I should’ve pulled the handle sooner. I don’t know what happened. I was too close to the ground…” You paused not really wanting to think too much into it, “I think the cockpit cut me on the way out. I was spinning out. I don’t remember. It just hurt.” You blinked back a few tears that flooded your eyes just thinking about it. You were not okay. You weren’t a crier in the first place, so this was odd for you. Sitting back up you used the back of your hand to wipe away the few that fell. Fuck.

He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder giving it a comforting squeeze, “Hey, you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But I just want you to know that I think you’re insanely strong for being able to fly the way you do after going through that. I don’t think I could.”

Wiping away the remaining tears you shook your head, “Bull. You’d be right back up in the air. You’re too much like me. Can’t let it go. Not yet anyway.”

The two of you were so immersed in the conversation both of you missed Mav calling you back into the huddle. Your eyes were trained on him as his eyes were on you. It was only Jax’s whistle that tore you from the gaze.

“Come on.” He gave you a hand once he stood up, “Better go join the group or we’ll get another ass chewing from Mav.”

Placing your hand in his felt so right, so natural, “I’d rather not go through that again.” He pulled you up. Walking back over he broke towards his squad as you nestled yourself in between Berlin and Jax.

“I don’t like the way he keeps looking at you Dory.” Jax spoke far too loudly. Berlin, Cairo, and a few others snickered knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Shut up Jax.” Giving him the look your turned your attention back towards Mav.

Berlin decided he wanted in on the conversation, “Were you not just complaining about him, oh I don’t know… yesterday?”

You punched his arm playfully, “Yeah, so?”

“It means we don’t like the way he’s looking at you.” Cairo chimed in from in front of you.

Raising your eyebrows, you looked at them all skeptically, “You’re all so nosy.”

“And I don’t like the way you’re looking at him!” Jax gave you a wide-eyed look like you’d failed to tell him something.

“Shut up.” You pushed him.

“Oh? Does Y/N have a crush?” Berlin quipped earning the laughs of everyone around you both. Including some of the Dagger Squad.

Rolling your eyes, you resigned to flipping him off instead not daring to disagree.

“Well boys we lost her. She’s not fighting back.” Jax started cracking up.

“If it’s any consolation, he won’t shut up about you. Pretty sure he feels the same way.” Rooster leaned in smirking with that damn mustache on his face.

You put your hand over your face avoiding everybody’s gaze. The random burst of Oh’s made Jake turn towards the group you were by with that same genuine smile. You’d deal with all the teasing in the world if it meant you got to see that smile again.

“Y/N! Wait up!” Jake’s voice broke your stride as you turned towards him.

Jax continued walking not waiting up on you, “Be good Y/N.” He snickered as he walked back towards his car.

“Let me give you a ride back to base?” He was practically begging for some more time alone with you. No matter how short of a ride it was.

“Sure.” You followed him to his truck. Jake being the newfound gentleman he really was rushed over to open the door and close it for you.

“Thank you.” You couldn’t help but to smile up at him as he slid into his seat.

Nodding his head he turned the key, “Anytime sweetheart. Really. Anytime.”

He pulled out driving back to base, “I heard what your friends said earlier.”

“You did?” The blush that coated your cheeks was probably immaculate. He was so forward with everything it made you want to scream. He put you right on the spot with that one. You’d normally dance around the emotions rather than full on confront them.

“Mhmm. I might have a crush on you too.” He said so nonchalantly it made you double take.

“Really?” You were sure your voice was three octaves higher as your eyes widened in realization. How could he be so cool about it?

He nodded taking his eyes off the road for just a second to reassure you, “What’s not to love? Beautiful, kind, tough, smart as hell, the whole package.”

“Wow. Are you sure?” You didn’t know

He chuckled taking your hand in his, “I’m so positive about this. I know we’re stationed across the country, but we can figure it out. Moves can be made. Promotions can be had. I want to try this with you. If you’d let me?”

The smile that burst onto your face felt incredible, “Hell yeah. Let’s do it.” You answered before you could really process it. But your brain knew before you did because you were thrilled.

He squeezed your hand tight as he parked the truck. Seemingly the last group to make it back. Surely the rest of the squadron was waiting on the two of you, “Yeah?”

You nodded looking so happily up at him, “Yes! Yeah, who knows what’ll happen? Plus, you know I have a whole squadron ready to hunt you down if you fuck it up.”

“Trust me, I’m not messing this one up.”

Taglist: @dempy @djs8891 @senjoritanana @thataviationlovingchick @alldaysdreamers @krismdavis @fangirlvibez @shelbycillian @trolostodos @iprettymuchsimpforeveryone @queerqueenlynn @peacelilyplants @hellobroadwaydreamer @themusicalweirdo

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dozing-marshmallow · 9 months

Text

BAKING WITH TOTAL DRAMA CHARACTERS SCENARIOS

(Photos aren’t mine by the way!)

BAKING WITH LINDSAY

(AS A BIRTHDAY SURPRISE)

You were surprised when she told you she didn’t have a mani-pedi appointment today. As if the day couldn’t be more convenient.

In Lindsay’s world, there was no such thing as baking unless it was done for her. And she was no expert in cooking either, which is why she was hesitant to bake.

“I don’t get it... Why am I putting four eggs in when five is my lucky number?”

Yep. As long as she was in the kitchen you could not let your guard down.

“What are you saying? What’s with all this flour? And this butter? Is that supposed to help me remember it?”

Alright, you both definitely didn’t have the same image in mind,“Remember what, Lindsay? We’re baking.”

“Ohh bake!” See? “I thought you meant pake, you know like password authenticated blah blah... Oh I’m soooo happy that wasn’t the case, you really aren’t complicated in that way, (Y/M)!”

She still messes your name up sometimes. But on the bright side, her motivation and inner child was found.

She loved pouring the sprinkles into the batter and tried her best to not break any when mixing.

You strictly put yourself in charge of dividing the batter evenly between each tin and swapping them around fifteen minutes within oven baking.

In the meantime, Lindsay managed to get started on the icing- not without constant confirmation that she was doing it right. Seems like she learnt a lot already.

All was looking well, until you noticed something out of place in the bowl. Feeling icky, you carefully extract it,”Lindsay... Is this your hair?”

“Oops...”

You fixed her hair into various styles until the timer went off.

She was gasping in amazement to how solid and fragrant they came out, asking if she could just eat them like that, and you don’t blame her.

Fast forward to icing the layer in between the combined cake and it as a whole, you were about done preparing the piping bag from a separate bowl of icing when she suddenly pleaded to do it.

Anxious, you handed it over to her. Your worry about any mistake she could make was short lived when remembering that even if it did come out slobbery, you know that her intentions were pure and it’s not like anyone else was going to eat the cake anyway. Until watching her actually pipe made you realise she was no amateur:

She was way better at it than you expected.

Seriously, her flowering and swirls were so high in symmetry, it was practically perfect!

“Duhhh! I do makeup! Hair and makeup! I’m like basically holding a curler, ooo I wonder if I could use this bag to style my hair instead? This has to be Victoria’s Secret to smelling so good!”

Logic never went well with Lindsay’s talents. And that was fine with you.

“Taa-da!” She cheers out,”Ohh it’s so pretty... I almost don’t wanna eat it!”

You congratulated Lindsay for her fruitful efforts and asked if she knew why you wanted to bake a cake with her specifically on that day.

“Because you like like me?” Her response after her time of self complimenting over the finish product was done.

“Yes, and also...” This is it.

You grabbed your 1 candle and 7 candle, placing them next to each other on top of the cake.

She watched as you lit them up in seconds, and without warning, the occasion hit her.

“Ohh right! Now I know why my Facebook’s blowing up like crazy today! It’s today!” As though the piped cursive writing of her name on top of the cake didn’t tell her too, but when she started clapping her hands together with that big smile on her shiny lips, it made up for it,”Yaaay! Seventy one today! Can’t believe how long it’s been since I first picked up a magazine. And was born, can’t forget about that, duh. Uh oh. Does that mean I’ll get frail and wrinkles now? Aww I don’t wanna give up tanning! Not yet!”

“You don’t need to worry about that for now, Lindsay, because it actually says seventeen. You’re seventeen today, and for another three hundred and sixty five days. Happy birthday, baby.” ⟡

BAKING WITH GWEN

(HELPING HER OUT)

“A pie, huh? Which flavour you thinking, apple, blueber-“

“Blackcurrant. We’ll be making a blackcurrant pie... that okay with you?”

When Gwen told you that her clique were hosting a get together party, you were almost as enthusiastic as she was.

But...

Because this was Gwen’s first time going to a party, she never thought she would have to worry about oven temperatures and accurate measurements up until now where the group agreed to whip up something individually that everyone could all share and eat.

That’s why she came to you with this dilemma! Her one and only.

Definitely not so she could simultaneously spend time with you.

You believed the thought process behind her choice of baking a blackcurrant pie was genius: the lattice crust on top could mimic a spiderweb and the colour behind itself was the real thing that appealed to the goth eye.

At the start, Gwen was nervous. She never did this kind of stuff before and didn’t want to screw it up, especially if her friends were going to eat it.

That’s why you suggested: I’ll make the crust, you can make the blackcurrant filling.

Oh how she loved crushing the blackcurrants,“Just imagining it’s Heather’s head right now.” She said with a smile.

Isn’t she so cute!

After pouring the sauce in the base, Gwen’s ambition really skyrocketed- you couldn’t deny how happy you felt when she insisted on making the perpendicular crust for the top, and that was just one example.

Even with all the red on her hands, she really was an artist.

“This is fun! It’s really like painting! Only with dough and fruit.”

Now, all the pie needed was no more than thirty minutes in the oven. To pass the time, you guys decided to do some drawing in her bedroom.

And it came out beautifully! The crust was golden brown and the blackcurrant juices were steaming with sweet flavour. Delicious... You can tell by Gwen’s eyes that she can’t wait to sink her teeth into a slice of it.

But her craving was quickly replaced by annoyance, upon realising how messy the countertop and floor was.

You cheekily remind her that she could’ve just bought something and passed it off as hers if she didn’t want to go through the trouble of cleaning everything up.

“Y-You think I would do something like that just so I wouldn’t need to clean? Jeez, I’m not that bad! I couldn’t handle the dreading guilt of doing that to them. Besides, I made it with you. That alone already tops off any other pie I could have bought instead.” <3

BAKING WITH ALEJANDRO

(IN CELEBRATION OF A SPANISH FESTIVITY)

“It would be an utmost honour, mi tesoro.”

In light of his Spanish roots, you were going to be baking “Pan de Cea” which was some kind of bread that’s traditionally made in favour of this summer festival called “festa de exaltación”.

You couldn’t wait! However, because you weren’t so familiar with bread baking, you were naturally amazed by Alejandro having known the entire recipe off by heart.

“No need to be ashamed. Unlike my love for you, this recipe will be very easy for you to understand.”

And what would be a day with Alejandro without his charming lines?

You loved and hated the warm effect they had on you, even more so when they escalated to a physical level.

He loves to stand right behind you, with his hand being on yours when you were mixing the yeast, the flour, the salt, the olive oil together...

He’d pour the water so majestically into the bowl and took over when your arm got tired of stirring.

After the dough was hard, he claimed that you’d have to leave it in the bowl under plastic wrap for a day,“I know I’d feel safe if you stayed here all day with this dough, your beauty is the perfect thing to maintain a high temperature.”

Pretending you weren’t flustered, he laughed and invited you to get churros with him to make up for the spare time- it was only fitting.

Timeskip to the next day where the dough was hard, just how it needed to be on the parchment paper. Two minutes of watching Alejandro rub the dough in olive oil felt like two hours with the frequent looks he shoots at you.

Once he’s done, he pampers you by also literally massaging you during the hour needed for the bread to rise. Guess he thought you got jealous of it.

Jealous was a stretch, but you didn’t think you’d groan when it was time to take the loaf out. At least it smelt as pleasant as it looked.

As you were about take a piece, Alejandro stopped your hand with his to take it for you instead. This was nothing out of the ordinary, Alejandro just enjoyed having the liberty to feed you like that.

“Delicious... You did so well...”

“Don’t hold yourself at such low standards, mi amor! We did very well. Words alone aren’t enough to describe how proud I am of you. Feliz festa de exaltación.”

“Happy exaltation party!”

For the first time in your relationship with him, he was the one caught off guard,”Did I say it in English before?”

¡Era canela fina! ///

BAKING WITH CHRIS

(JUST WANTING TO SPEND TIME WITH HIM)

Initially, he would accuse the activity something only for “peasants” to do so you quickly reminded him that it was an insensitive thing to say and it wasn’t always about material things; sometimes it’s just about wanting to spend time with him outside Total Drama.

Once he’s gotten over his pride, he joins you, on the condition that you made cookies- since, according to him, it requires the less mental strength.

This probably won’t be surprising, but he made you do most of the work (at first). Claimed that his hands would be “soiled” if he touched the “filthy” ingredients for too long.

In the beginning, he was mean spirited as Chris enjoys to be i.e pouring a handful of flour down your clothes, forcing your face down the sink with the tap on, general shoving.

You wouldn’t have minded if you could’ve also had a laugh whenever you tried to recite the treatment.

Yeah he would be seriously insulted if you tried even doing something as little as rubbing a chocolate chip against his cheek.

It wasn’t until you threw an egg at his head out of anger and watched the yolk oil down his hair where he took accountability that he went overboard. Sure, he was laughing while he did.

But his hair was ruined for the rest of the baking process so you were too.

Afterwards, there was less “joking” and more compassion. Somehow now that he temporarily moved past his sadist ways, Chris began to involve himself a lot more in the whisking and licking your finger and vice versa of leftover batter.

The rolling of dough into a collection of spheres was arguably the best part.

“Look Chris! I made one that looks just like you!” You held up a cookie circle, obvious that those two lines of dough were purposely added to be on top to mimic his hair.

“Oh? What a coincidence! I made one that looks just like you too!” He declared, revealing a sticky slob of dough in his hand right after he said that.

“Oi...” You smile helplessly,”That’s not a nice thing to say to your spouse.”

But hey, if he didn’t tease at all, was that really Chris?

Post setting them on the tray and into the oven, Chris immediately rushes to the shower, and by the time he’s done, you were on your fifth cookie.

He whined at you for not waiting for him, but you’re quick to hand the one you’re on to him.

He finishes it, not without reminding you that you were the only exception to treating him like a “regular” person. Which in his books, was a deadly sin.

Needless to say, he’s impressed; despite him letting on so little, you’ve been with this man long enough to know otherwise. You could only smirk when he makes dismissive claims that they would’ve came out better if it was just him making them as he took spontaneous sips of his glass of milk.

By the end, he’s really glad you had this time together. He won’t stop thinking about it for a while. Heck, he’s more excited about baking with you again than you are.

Even if he won’t admit it.

Yet. :)

#total drama #total drama island #total drama scenarios #td lindsay #td chris #tdi #td gwen #td alejandro #baking scenarios #romance #fluff #x reader #tdi x reader

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nicksbestie · 2 months

Note

can you pleaseeee write a agere reader x Johnnie Guilbert? Where they go to a party with Jake and the reader regresses and Jake and Johnnie help. LMAO this is my first time requesting something so this might not make sense 💀💀 also I liveee your fics 🖤🖤🖤

Overwhelmed - Jake and Johnnie

Summary : A night out partying causes you to freak out, but luckily your best friends are there to help.

Pairing : Johnnie Guilbert/Reader (platonic), Jake Webber/Reader (platonic)

Warnings : Mentions of partying, alcohol consumption

Word Count : 1477

A/N : This is an age regression fic, which is purely safe for work and innocent. Any hate/disrespect towards me, my work, or readers, will not be tolerated.

You loved your friends, and you loved going out with them. You couldn’t deny the fact that you and your friends were definitely in the partying scene, which just came with your jobs, and that was often what you were up to on the weekends. However, that didn’t mean that it wasn’t exhausting at times. There were many separate instances where you left parties early, having just shown up to not completely flake on people, but being too tired to stay too long. There were other nights where you were there to help drive your friends home, still enjoying your time, but not going all out. Tonight was one of those nights, where you were hanging out with your friends, but you weren’t partying hard.

Honestly, you’d rather not be there at all tonight, being absolutely exhausted, and wanting nothing more than to just curl up in bed with a movie and comfortable pajamas, but you loved your friends and you always wanted to be there for them, and you also knew that they would need someone to potentially drive them home after the party. So, you stuck it out today just for them. You’d later joke about winning a friend of the year award for the amount of times you went somewhere you didn’t want to go just because it made them happy to have you there. You were flattered by that, honestly, but right now, you desperately wanted to go home.

The flashing lights were beginning to grate on your nerves, and that, combined with the loud noises and the consistent strong smell of alcohol was causing you to feel the beginning of a migraine coming on. You tried to push the thoughts away, knowing that it was still quite early in the night, and that nobody wasn’t going to want to leave so early, so despite wanting to leave, you were determined to stick it out. You really didn’t want to be that friend who had to make everyone leave early, and you did not want to be known as a killjoy to anyone who didn’t understand you or weren’t as close to you as your friends.

It wasn’t until someone dropped something on you that you began to feel like you could not handle being there anymore. Someone was carrying a bottle with something in it, probably alcohol considering the surrounding environment, and they had bumped into the counter you were leaning against, and subsequently dropped it on your foot. Trying to contain the pain in your gaze, you simply muttered an “it’s fine” to the person’s half hearted apology, ignoring the tears building in your eyes. It really hadn’t hurt you that badly, but the pain in your foot combined with the pain in your head and the general overwhelming scenario you were in made you want to just cry.

You managed to hold it together until you got alcohol spilled down the front of your shirt, and that was the straw that broke the camel’s back. You quickly found your way to an unoccupied bathroom, sobbing over the sink at just how overwhelmed you were. You really didn’t think you could handle much more of the situation you were currently in, but checking the time and seeing that it was just barely past midnight, you knew you would have to, because your friends never went home this early, and you were not about to just leave them without a designated driver.

Unbeknownst to you, both of your closest friends had seen the spill, and had immediately realized, based on your reaction, that it was more than just the spill that had caused you to disappear into the bathroom. Not that the spill wasn’t an excusable reason, but they had seen the look on your face, and they both knew it was more than that. Due to this fact, they were currently standing outside of the bathroom door, hesitating on whether to knock or not. They never wanted to invade your privacy, but they were seriously concerned about whether you were okay or not, and after multiple more minutes went by, they decided it was worth the possibility of annoying you to make sure that you were doing alright. They immediately knew they had made the right choice when Jake knocked on the door, and you shouted back “occupied!”

They could hear the wobble in your voice, and they knew it was because you were crying. The three of you were best friends, after all, and they had seen and heard you crying more times than you would like to admit. They recognized the tone, and made sure that they kept their tone gentle before speaking. Jake was the first one to talk, luckily, the outside environment was loud enough that nobody else had noticed what was going on.

“Hey, it’s us. Are you okay?”

He didn’t receive a response to that one, and it did nothing but make the two of them even more anxious, terrified of the possibilities behind the locked door. You could be physically hurt, and Johnnie tried to ask a question again after the lack of the response.

“Can we come in?”

Neither of them thought that they were going to receive an answer, and were more worried when the deafening silence stretched on for multiple minutes, until the lock on the door clicked, and it opened just a crack. Both of them immediately slipped behind the door, hearts nearly shattering in their chest when they saw you staring blankly into the mirror, tear stained face obvious, eyes red. As soon as you noticed that they were staring back at you, you immediately moved to wipe the tears with tissues, putting on a fake smile and turning around to look at them. Jake was once again the first to speak, always good at knowing exactly what to say, but this time, it was just a question.

“What happened?”

You sighed, trying not to let more tears come out as you relayed the events of the night leading up to this point.

“I’m exhausted, my head hurts from the noise and the smell and the lights, and then someone spilled a drink down my shirt and I really just could not take it anymore.”

Johnnie immediately wrapped you in a hug, sad at the way he could feel your shoulders shaking from sobs.

“We’re going home.”

Both of them hadn’t drank much, only one or two, and it had been an hour or so since they had. They were perfectly alert to drive, and due to this, they were fine with leaving. It wasn’t until you didn’t really respond that they realized something had changed. Johnnie gave Jake a specific look, gesturing to the fact that you hadn’t pulled out of his hug, something you would’ve normally done by now. Jake turned around from opening the door, catching Johnnie’s eyes and gently shutting the door again.

“Babe, can you look at me?”

None of you were in any romantic relationship with any other one, but pet names were common in your friendship. Slowly looking up at Jake, you could tell that he immediately realized what was happening. The emotional turmoil that you’d gone through during the night, and then the crying and the hug, had pushed you right into your headspace, which explained why you stayed clinging to Johnnie instead of letting go in your average time. Jake’s gaze immediately softened, and Johnnie’s arms tightened a little bit around you, protective as always.

“Hi, honey! It’s okay, darling, we’re gonna go home, okay?”

He didn’t receive much in response except for a tentative nod, but that was normal for you. When upset, you were a very quiet little, unless you were crying, and both of them knew that. Johnnie made sure to keep an arm protectively wrapped around your shoulder as you made your way to the car, Jake saying goodbye to everyone for you. Jake had agreed to drive, knowing that you weren’t likely to let go of Johnnie anytime soon. He sat in the back with you while Jake drove you all home, making sure to be quick but extra careful.

These were your most trusted people, the only people you would let see you in such a vulnerable state, and something in your subconscious mind knew you had picked the best people to trust with such information when they immediately jumped into action, helping you change into fresh clothes and getting you something to eat and drink, before curling up with you on the couch, a part of your usual routine when you were home and regressed. They turned on a simple movie for you, keeping you wrapped up in their arms for the rest of the evening, and gently helping you into bed when you had fallen asleep. Overall, your night had ended well.

~ taglist : @jake-and-johnnies-slut @gvf23 @elliem505 @ilydeaky @maryx2xx @oobleoob @aemrsy @blahbel668

~ if you'd like to be added to my johnnie and jake taglist, click here!

~ my inbox is open, come chat!! <3

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themusicsweetly · 11 months

Note

Thank you for posting videos, pictures, and the Tribeca panel commentary on twitter. It is much appreciated. 🙏🏻

[ Anonymous #2 asked ]: Sarah, would you mind writing a S701 review since you were at the premiere last night? Don't mind spoilers and you can warn others if they don't want to read. Loved it when you did it before. Thanks!

Hello Anons! Thanks so much for both your asks! I hope you don't mind me combining both your asks.

You're so welcome, Anon #1! I so glad so many people enjoyed my posts about it! I'm very grateful that I've been able to go to these events for several years now. I know that so many of you don't get that opportunity, so I try to do what I can to bring it to you all even if only virtually. Things are always so much more fun when they're shared, anyway. After all, that's what fandom should be about! 💜

For anyone who missed it, you can check out my Twitter page for my full coverage of 92Y and the Tribeca Festival. But here's some GIF spam from my favorite of the videos I was able to capture this week!

Anon #2, yes of course I'll write up a summary of my thoughts. I know you said you don't mind them, but I will try my very best to not include any spoilers in it as I know it really does ruin it for some. But just in case:

~~~POSSIBLE SPOILERS FOR OUTLANDER 7x01 BELOW~~~ ~~~SERIOUSLY, DON’T @ ME THAT I DIDN’T WARN YOU~~~

Outlander 7x01, "A Life Well Lost"

As Caitriona + Sam have mentioned previously in interviews, 7x01 picks up right where 6x08 left off. No time jump or anything, which I was really glad for. The opening scene was SHOCKING and used something that I thought was really clever and really rude all at the same time lol. I can tell you that the audience gasped because of it. I feel this bit was extremely effectively done. Caitriona's micro-expressions really made it for me.

One thing that surprised me — and perhaps it shouldn't simply because Outlander has always been full of this — was that there were so many small moments of humor in this episode, despite the obvious dire situation Claire and Jamie are in (but really, when aren't they lol). There's a new small side character that both Claire and Jamie get to interact with that provides much needed comedic breaks. Even Jamie's menacing looks add to this. Claire especially, I feel, gets to use her biting wit (or just straight up cursing) to add some humor to the tenseness. There's one particularly funny scene that takes place on a boat and involves an interrupting officer that I so loved! The entire audience burst out laughing when we saw it.

While Caitriona + Sam were obviously amazing, I'll say the surprising standout actor in this episode wasn't them. I won't say who, but it's someone we're well acquainted with. There are moments straight out of the book that this actor just fully nails. We're so lucky to have such strong actors filling these side character roles and s/he is just fantastic. Their sincerity and conviction sold me completely.

As book readers can probably guess from the title and from where we are in the timeline, we know basically what will happen in this episode — and they to stick pretty well to it. Even so, it is still so satisfying to get to see it played out on screen. Claire's despair, hope, and heartbreak. Jamie's torment, anger, and determination. The relief of it all. It's all played so, so well across Caitriona + Sam's faces and in their line delivery. Sam said during the Tribeca panel that Jamie is perhaps "more frail" in this episode, and I think that can be said for both of them. Despite them being well versed in separation, I think every subsequent one after their 20 year split wears on them more and more. And they both play that so expertly, making the time that we do see them together just that much sweeter. I don't think it's too spoilery to say that yes, they do share several scenes together this episode so dinna fash!

As for Brianna and R*ger, their scenes are pretty well separate from the Jamie x Claire scenes. I don't really have much to say about them, except that they move certain other storylines that will become more important later on in the season forward. And only just so. While it was important to do so, honestly it felt a bit filler-like. That said, I am actually pretty excited for certain arcs for Brianna and Jemmy later on (while also hoping they don't include that storyline for R*ger... sorry, not sorry) and this brought them maybe half a step closer to it.

Other than the moment on the boat I had mentioned earlier, there are two scenes toward the end which I really loved. One was such a sweet moment straight out of the book with some really great book lines that I had very much wanted to hear. it is Classic™ Jamie x Claire, so you know Caitriona + Sam knocked it out of the park. The second is not a book scene (I believe?? I don't remember it anyway), but was a great one for Sam / Jamie. It's how the episode ends and I told a new friend I had met in the Tribeca line that the final moment of the episode reminded me of Batman's cape swooshing over the camera turning everything black. Lol take from that what you will!

Some other random thoughts:

Jamie x Claire are SO. SOFT. They say separation makes the heart grow fonder? Really, it makes those two grandparents softer AND I LOVE IT.

I LOVED seeing Caitriona + Sam's names appear as Executive Producers! The entire audience was singing along to The Skye Boat song and then burst out cheering when that came up.

I really hope Major MacDonald's wig gets snatched by Adso at some point because F him lol

Overall, I'd say I enjoyed the episode. Some might say it's a bit slow, which I wouldn't disagree with. But knowing that 1) they had to get this part over with the tie up the Season 6 cliffhanger; and 2) this is really going to be a jam packed season of action and emotion, I think I'm okay with that. I've heard it from more than one source that 7x02 is even better than 7x01 so I'm really excited! I'm also really excited to meet our newer cast members, as none of them featured in the premiere episode. The Hunters especially will be so much fun to watch!

Hearing Caitriona + Sam speak about not only this season, but their journey with Outlander overall makes me so grateful that the quality is still there after seven seasons. They're clearly still so passionate about these characters and are determined to do them justice in every way to the very end. And I think that most definitely shows up in their scenes. I'm super curious to see if there's anything noticeably different or better now that they've been promoted to Executive Producers. And of course, to see Caitriona's first foray into directing!! Until then, I'm looking forward to you all seeing the first episode for yourselves 💜

#outlander #outlanderedit #outlander 7x01 #sam heughan #caitriona balfe #outlander season 7 #season 7 promo #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #my edit #92Y #tribeca #tribeca film festival #outlander premiere #a life well lost

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pronoun-checks · 1 year

Note

Hello! Could I get a pronoun check for he/him + muse/muse/muses/museself?

Sure thing!

He/muse

Oh look! There he is! He’s the one walking over there by himself. Have you met him before? You just missed him. Wait a second, I think muse left muses bag behind! Quick, let’s try to give it to muse��oh muse is already gone. We’ll have to return his bag the next time we see him, I suppose.

—

He/him

Oh look! There he is! He’s the one walking over there by himself. Have you met him before? You just missed him. Wait a second, I think he left his bag behind! Quick, let’s try to give it to him—oh he’s already gone. We’ll have to return his bag the next time we see him, I suppose.

—

Muse/muses

Oh look! There muse is! Muse’s the one walking over there by museself. Have you met muse before? You just missed muse. Wait a second, I think muse left muses bag behind! Quick, let’s try to give it to muse—oh muse is already gone. We’ll have to return muses bag the next time we see muse, I suppose.

#You didn’t leave a name #if you wanted me to use a name send in an ask and I’ll change it!#I also didn’t know if you wanted them separately or combined so I did both #he/muse #he/him #muse/muses #muse/muse/muses/museself #pronoun check #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #pronoun checks #pronouns #anon #anonymous #neopronouns #nounself pronouns

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imababblekat · 1 year

Text

Worth Promises?

**WARNINGS**: reader is not dead! i promise! but there is alluding to serious injuries and mentions of blood

~~~~~~~~

Anon Request,“May I request more Spiderman reader with the tmnt brothers??? Maybe Readers mask somehow comes off by being torn off by a villain or its heavily damaged from saving people”

~xXx~

Donnie paced back and forth, every now and then stopping to glance up at the raggedy old curtain that separated the infirmary from the rest of the base. Beside him Mikey sat, his face hidden in his folded arms over his legs, one bouncing anxiously. The two were not alone in their worry, Raphael and Leo also standing nearby, but the former was glaring daggers at the other. Feeling a hole burning into the side of his face by his brothers scowl, Leo snapped his voice.

“Go on, Raph. Spit it out already.”

Donnie and Mikey quickly looked toward the two, already sensing the oncoming argument that would ensue. Just as predicted, Raph pushed himself off the sewer wall with irritation to his tone.

“What are we doin’ just standin’ around?! We should be in there doin somethin.”

A red banded hand flung towards the direction of the infirmary, Leo’s gaze following to where their master had retreated moments prior, before returning with a matching glare back towards Raphael.

“You don’t trust Master Splinter’s skills?”

The buffer brother gritted his teeth, clenched fists falling to his stiff sides.

“You know it’s not that.”

“We did what we could.”

“Snipping already cut parts of their suit just enough to slap a bandaid on ain’t enough.”

“If you think slapping a bandaid on is the same as stitching multiple open cuts closed, then you and I have very different ideas on what that is.”

“Stop dodging the obvious, Leo. We should be in there! Helping Master Splinter finish up!”

“And you would risk breaking the one promise we swore by to do so?!”

“Yeah, I would! Cuz unlike you, Mr Righteous, I care more about whether or not they live than some stupid oath!”

Leonardo and Raphael were already deep in the others space, chest and shoulders squared and ready to go, but at the notion that he didn’t care about the teams mysterious, but very close friend, had a fire ignite in the leaders glaring eyes.

“Both of you! Enough!”

Out of nowhere, and with a strength and tone rarely used, Donnie had pushed the two apart, effectively sticking himself in between. His tone was riddled with shame for the two, not sparing either brother a strong look of disappointment that shot straight to their souls.

“Is now really the time for this? Now, when (s,p) needs us together the most?”

Turning to Raphael, Donnie’s gaze and tone turned gentle, sympathetic.

“Raph, you know how much each one of us want to be in there right now, but we also all made a promise. If we can stand by that we have to, for them. That’s why Master Splinter is in there and not us. He’s the best option we have to keep their secret. You know that as well as any of us.”

The red ninja turtle released a heavy breath through flared nostrils, visibly upset at the fact his tallest brother was right in all this. With a click of his tongue, Raph shoved past Donnie, not sparing anyone a glance and instead making way to his room, but not before frustratingly slamming his fist into a nearby wall.

Leo made to go talk with the angered brother, when a calm hand landed on his shoulder to stop him. Surprisingly it wasn’t Donnie, but Mikey who offered him a small lopsided smile.

“I’ll go talk to him. Just come get us if (s,p) wakes up ‘kay?”

Leo and Donnie watched as the youngest quickly trotted off to go talk some sense into Ralph, and while many would be shocked to see Mikey of all of them go, the two knew how particularly close him and Raph were. Once said turtle was out of sight after grabbing an orange crush as a peace offering, Leo heaved a heavy sigh, pinching the skin between his furrowed brows. Everything that had happened was starting to catch up with him, and combined with this latest fude with Raphael, a migraine was quickly forming.

“He didn’t mean it.”

Leo shook his head, looking to Donnie with a matching frown.

“I know. I just. . .what if he’s right? I know we all promised to never, under any circumstance, reveal their true identity, but does that really matter after what happened?”

He hated that part of him agreed with his hard headed brother, but from the difficulty won battle that occurred only a few hours earlier, Leo could not help the feeling. They had barely succeeded in the fight against rouge foot soldiers turned mutants, even with the help of their friendly neighborhood (s,p). When they did win though, it was like a huge weight off their shoulders, each brother giving the other high threes or chest bumps in celebration. However, the victory was short lived when they’d all turned to share in revelry with their super hero teammate, only to watch them collapse to the hard floor, breathless and bleeding.

The memory had Leo starting to feel sick to his stomach again like it had in that moment, and Donnie carefully lead him over to sit against some railing. The purple clad turtle offered his brother a reassuring pat, trying to not let his own memory of the event get the best of him as well.

“If we didn’t have Master Splinter, than yeah, it wouldn’t matter. But we had another option, and honestly, it’s a really good one. You know Splinter would never tell a soul or give any kind of give away at who they are. Plus, he rarely ever goes to the surface, so chances of him being in any danger for knowing their secret, or heck, even vice-versa, is like. . . zero point zero percent!”

A light chuckle came from Leo, his brothers analytical personality helping to make things feel a bit lighter. He reached to swing an arm around to rest on Donnie as well, the two now wearing tired smiles on their scaled faces.

“Thanks, Don.”

“Of course!”

He knew it was very unlikely, but Leo hoped that perhaps one day, his family wouldn’t have to worry about so much evil in the world. And maybe then, no one would have to hide any secrets, especially (s,p), who had managed to find a way into his heart right next to one of their closest human friends, (y,n). At the thought of the ninja brothers goober of a bestie, Leo was about to ask Donnie if he’d heard from you since the battle had occurred, when the shuffling of the infirmary's curtain had quickly caught their attention. The two brothers shot to their feet, seeing their father walk out with some dirtied towels and other discarded medical supplies.

Leo was quick to walk up to Master Splinter, Donnie right behind him, and greatly resisted the urge to peak through the slight gap between the curtain and the entrance.

“How are they?! Will they be okay?!”

“Was it as serious as it looked?! Were the supplies I had enough?!”

Master Splinter raised a hand, his long sleeve flowing with, and both sons stopped in their rapid talking. Lowering his hand to stroke at his long beard, Master Splinter simply nodded to the boys.

“Your friend will be just fine. Let them rest.”

Two very relieved sighs came simultaneously from each brother. Just as predicted, Master Splinter gave no inclination about now knowing the very famous (s,p) true identity, a seemingly familiar indifference of sorts the ninja turtles were used to.

“Thank you, Master. Don and I will tell the others, they’ll be so relieved.”, Leo grinned.

Master Splinter merely nodded, turning to dispose of the medical waste, his ears listening to his retreating sons, hands shaking with a deep sadness when he heard Leo question Donnie if he’d heard from you lately.

~xXx~

#bayverse tmnt x reader #bayverse tmnt #bayverse raphael x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse leonardo x reader #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse donatello x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse michelangelo x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #tmnt x reader #aged up tmnt #tmnt spiderman au #spiderman reader #angst #injury #blood #anon request #imababblekat's writing

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 8 months

Text

heya, i have to wake up in three hours but! here's another lil human au snippet! ft. lightly implied Laughingstock! disclaimer i am so so tired so don't come at me for typos or strangely worded sentences or missing info <3

Before heading home, Eddie swings by a charming little store he’s been to once or twice before. He usually goes to the chain store by his house, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the hustle and bustle and the endless aisles. This little store is quiet, nice, and strangely has everything anyone could need.

The lot is mostly empty at this hour, so Eddie claims a spot right at the front. As with the other times, the windows are littered with displays and stickers - half off on this, sale on that. Eddie enters Howdy’s Place with the chime of the door’s shopkeeper’s bell. He’ll get what he needs and get out, quick and easy and peacefu-

Boisterous laughter slams into Eddie like a hammer, so sudden that he jumps in place. An employee stocking cans nearby glances weirdly at him. Eddie clears his throat and hurries into the nearest aisle as the laughter tapers off. The silence barely lasts a second before loud chatter starts up. It’s too fast and muffled for Eddie to understand, but he can pick out two distinct voices - one deep, one less so but still decidedly masculine.

Eddie tries to tune it out as he gathers what he needs. Toothpaste, some paper towels, shampoo. For the hell of it, he nabs a box of classic bran muffins from the spacious food section. He lingers for a moment, enjoying how far-away the conversation seems at the other corner of the store. Unfortunately, theft is illegal, so Eddie is forced to move towards the noise.

A strange thing about the store - it’s a combination general store, antique shop, and diner, complete with a miniature gift shop separating the two. One long checkout counter stretches from the open store area, behind the gift shop, and into the diner, where the conversation is coming from. An interesting setup, but an understandable one. It allows anyone behind the counter to move fluidly between customers and sections.

As Eddie approaches, the conversation becomes slightly clearer.

“-said, no wonder you didn’t get her number!” the deeper voice barks, and the two dissolve into that almost-too-loud laughter again.

As it tapers off, the other voice says, “Sounds like a real charmer! But really, you oughta be careful, Barn. One of these days someone’s gonna throw a right hook at ya.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A transatlantic accent? He hasn’t heard that anywhere outside of real old movies and a queen he once knew. It sounds natural too, like the man was born to sound like he belongs on a 1920s radio show. It nudges something in the back of Eddie’s mind. He’s started to get really sick of that nudge.

“Oh, this guy did.”

“No kidding? I don’t see a shiner.”

“Well, yeah. I went left.”

Both of them laugh again, and Eddie feels a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth. That wasn’t funny enough to garner an actual laugh in his opinion, but it wasn’t unfunny.

Eddie steps up to the counter and quietly puts his acquired items on it, not wanting to interrupt. He chances a glance to the side - walking space in front of the counter’s length lets him see right down into the diner.

A large man with dyed-blue hair and an interesting fashion sense is at the bar, talking to an employee leaning against the other side. The employee doesn’t really catch Eddie’s gaze, but the other man… Eddie swears he’s seen him before. He studies him from the corner of his eye, not wanting to be rude but unable to mind his business.

“Our bouncer didn’t even get a chance at the action - the idiot knocked himself out tryin’ a second swing!” The customer says. His deep voice, wavering with humor, only adds to the sense of familiarity. Metal glints in his right ear. Eddie knows this man from somewhere.

The employee shakes his head, tutting. His busy hands polish a vintage pitcher. “I swear, you get all the crazies.”

“Makes for a good story, though.” The customer takes a sip from his tall milkshake and scoffs. “Though if it wasn’t all well-ending, amusing bull, I doubt I’d be so tolerant.”

Minutes drag by as the two keep talking. Eddie goes from patiently waiting to awkwardly trying to get the employees attention. If only there was someone else behind the counter, but the only other staff member is elsewhere, likely still stocking shelves.

The two men are too absorbed in their little world, even though both are facing Eddie’s way. The customer has both elbows on the counter, one of them bent to prop up his chin. The employee has his hip leaned against the edge as they chat. They’re obviously very familiar with each other, and clearly deeply enjoy each other's company.

Still - and Eddie is sorry to say, but it’s bad customer service. He’s not in a rush, but he’d still like to be on his way home. He could be fishing out the complex keys right now. He checks his phone - he’s been here for nearly fifteen minutes. Picking out the items took less than five.

Eddie sighs, staring at the various cigarette packs displayed behind the counter. He’s never seen the appeal in smoking, but as the laughter starts up again, he almost wishes he did. He’s going to treat himself to a very long shower once he gets home.

The store’s other employee walks behind the counter, carrying a box. Eddie lights up. Finally - she pointedly clears her throat and heads into the back.

The constant conversation stalls for the barest moment, and he looks over. The customer grins at him for a second - lord he’s handsome - before turning that grin towards his friend.

“You’re losin’ your touch, Howds,” he teases, bringing his shake straw to his lips.

“I resent that statement. You’re just distracting.”

“Lil’ me? Distracting? C’mon, you can just tell me I’m pretty to my face. I’ll take it like a champ, I swear!”

“Ha, good try.” The employee sets the pitcher down and starts to mosey in Eddie’s direction. “Your ego is big enough for the both of us as is. One more compliment and your head’ll pop like a balloon.”

“Well, given that most balloons don’t really pop, they just kinda deflate slowly-”

“Sorry for the wait!” the employee says loudly in a glaringly obvious customer service tone. He stops in front of Eddie with a cardboard smile. At the other end of the counter, the familiar man snickers and hides his grin behind his drink. “I trust you found everything you did - and didn’t! - need.”

Eddie just stares up at him for a moment. At six-one, Eddie hasn’t felt small in a very long time. He usually stands at least a full inch above other people. This employee - Howdy, his name tag states - has several more on him.

“Uh, y-yes, I uh, I did,” Eddie stammers, glancing at his items.

“Wonderful! And again, my sincerest apologies for the delay. My friend makes a game out of keeping me from my job.” Howdy shoots his ‘friend’ a glare with enough heat in it to make an ice cube sweat.

“No worries.”

Howdy scans the items at an almost frightening speed. Beep, into a paper bag. Beep, in. Beep, beep - “Oh, no.”

“What?” Eddie says, dread plucking at his ribs as Howdy holds the bran muffins and shakes his head. “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

“Indeed there is! You’re making a mistake with these. They’re absolutely horrible, I tell ya - and bad for you, too!” Howdy tuts and puts the box to the side. “No, no, you don’t want those.”

“I… don’t?”

“Not if you knew better! Lucky for you, I’m here to set you straight. What you need is-” he snaps his fingers, “Barnaby, be a pal and-”

“Already on it,” ‘Barnaby’ says, appearing next to Eddie.

If Eddie weren’t already paralyzed, he’d jump right out of his skin from how Barnaby towers over him. He has to be a scant inch or so shorter than Howdy, but he still makes Eddie feel tiny. Unfortunately, Barnaby is even more handsome up close.

“Here ya go.” Barnaby hands a plastic container to Howdy and taps it, smiling lazily down at Eddie. “I’d take his advice on this one. Those bran-named muffins may sound fancy, but they’re pretty crumby! You want muffins of quality. Real breadwinners!

Eddie can’t help a soft laugh. “Breadwinners, heh, that’s a good one.”

“Are you selling these or am I?” Howdy says, raising a bushy eyebrow.

“Hey, I’m just doin’ what you asked! I’m bein’ a pal.”

“And I - I’m sorry," Eddie interjects, "but you’re awfully familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Eh, I’ve been around, but uh… you ever been to [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE]?”

Howdy clears his throat. “I’m trying to make a sale here, Barn. You can flirt on your own dime when you’re not costing me mine.”

“Didja know your nose gets redder when you’re jealous?”

Howdy rolls his eyes and shoves Barnaby in the diner’s direction. Barnaby goes with a hearty snicker. Despite the joke, Eddie thinks it has some merit as Howdy scans the final item and rings him up, considerably frostier than before.

Belatedly, Eddie realizes that he didn’t actually agree to the different muffins. Too late now. “Say, what kind of muffins are those?”

“Poppyseed-lemon.”

Eddie relaxes - that is a lot better than boring bran. “Y’know, my mother loved poppyseed-lemon muffins.”

“Did she now,” Howdy drawls.

“Like you wouldn’t believe! If baking was so much as mentioned, she’d jump right on houndin’ us to whip some up for her, or send us to go buy some. We’d never even get a taste! They’d be gone the moment they hit the air, I tell ya.” Eddie chuckles. “Took me a while to understand what all the fuss is about, but man was she right. They are good!”

“Uh-huh. Well, we have a fresh batch delivered every morning. They’re not the same type every time, mind you, but I can promise that they’re all of the highest quality.”

“Breadwinners, right?” Eddie jokes. Howdy doesn’t blink, but Barnaby snorts. He’ll take it. “I might have to come by more often, if that’s the case! Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Mhm, have a good day.” Howdy hands him the bag and strides away without a glance. The dismissal is clear as day. “Say, Barn, did you hear about the racket one of those cult crackpots stirred up at our dear friend’s tearoom?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the tail-end of the sentence as he hurries away, but he frowns. Cult? What cult? There’s a cult? He certainly didn’t hear of one before moving here, and none of his background checks had turned up anything of the sort. He hopes it was just a figure of speech.

The door chimes again as Eddie leaves. It isn’t until he’s in his car that the embarrassment of that whole exchange catches up with him. If he had a nickel for every time he’d made a fool of himself in front of a gorgeous, strangely familiar man, he’d have three nickels. At the rate he’s going, he’ll either be rich, or he’ll have to move.

Eddie subtly tries to peek around the store’s window displays from the safety of his car. He catches a scant glimpse of blue hair - come to think of it, it’s a similar shade to Wally’s. But where Wally’s had, to Eddie’s memory, been uniformly dyed right down to his eyebrows, Barnaby’s rich brown roots were obvious. His beard and eyebrows weren’t dyed, either.

As Eddie relaxes back into his seat, he re-reads at the store’s name. The color drains from his face and he barely restrains himself from slamming his forehead against the steering wheel.

Oh, of course. Of course he made a fool of himself in front of the owner. Eddie can never come back here again. And it was such a nice store…

#wait wym this is almost 2k words what the Fuck!#ok! the writing gods blessed me tonight i guess!#anyway slight context -#in my mind there's a whole Plot and stuff for this au #where it starts off with eddie running into The Group™️ and meeting them mostly separately #before they all meet up and go 'hey yeah you guys ran into eddie from high school too? cool. he's ours now'#and forcibly drag eddie into their little Circle #wh modern human au #snippets from the bog #also sorry about the [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE] lmfao i cant come up with one atm #i want it to be wh-related and Clever #but i am not very clever on a good day and this has been a bad one! and again! im tired!#i. dont know how to tag this. whatever! if you see it you see it!#ok im going to sleep. for a whopping three hours before my alarm goes off. *less than three. Sigh.#i always do this! its like 'oh i have to wake up early tomorrow! lets not sleep at all! im feeling so creative!'#gonna go think about this au's laughingstock as i drift to sleep #FOR THREE. HOURS.#have i mentioned the three hours????

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