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cat-mentality · 4 months

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It's funny really, how much the children have taken from their adoptive parents.

How looking at them is something akin to looking in a mirror.

Chayenne who is eerily similar to Philza with the same blue hair and blue eyes, the same nose, but whose smile is all Missa's. Who loves deeply, like them both, who likes cooking and avoids larger crowds, who has no time for people's bullshit, who likes stories, farming potatoes and training with his weapons.

Ramon whose tiny smile is a carbon copy of Fit's, something precious to be cherished like the gift it is. Who is clever and resourceful and focused on what really matters, hardworking to a fault.

Leonarda with Vegetta's purple eyes and Foolish's cheekbones and nose. Leo who is creative and protective, who will defend her loved ones with everything she has, who wants pretty things and nice buildings in her name, who enjoys the good things in life.

Dapper who is his father's copy, who proudly display the demonic traits many hide in shame, the midnight skin, the white eyes, the little horns. Dapper who is clever, who likes to play with the obscure, who collects animals, who is fiercely protective of her loved ones.

Tallulah who may as well be Wilbur's copy as well, the same curly brown hair, the same big dark eyes, whose smile is just the tiniest bit crooked, exactly like Phil's. Tallulah who loves music so very deeply, who is passionate and puts her heart into her projects.

It's tragic really, how much the children have taken from their adoptive parents.

How looking at them is something akin to looking in a mirror.

Chayenne who is the oldest. The little warrior, his father’s son in bravery and courage and protectiveness, Chayenne who has taken the role of the protector without having to be told.

Chayenne, who is his fathers’ son. Who hides his insecurity and his fear because he cannot allow himself to appear weak or scared because all the siblings are looking at him for comfort, for guidance. Chayenne who takes every single thing gone wrong as a signal of his failure, of his weakness, who fear every single day that his siblings, that his parents, are going to look at him and see the scared little boy who cannot save his siblings, who failed them so many times and just keeps on failing.

And that they will realize he is not worth their time or their love.

Chayenne who is his father’s son and cannot put those insecurities into words, who cannot talk about them because they are his burden to care, because his parents and siblings have more important things to care about, because he is the oldest and he is not suppose to give them reasons to worry, he is supposed to be strong and reliable.

He has never been taught to be honest about his fears, he has watched as his father takes on the responsibility of taking care of another child by himself without a word of protest, he has watched as he father held his emotions close to his chest and he has learned to do the same.

Chayenne like his father Missa, who believes he is not worth of their love unless he proves it with his actions, who is scared of failure as much as he is scare of trying, who struggles with what he truly wants to do, with the childish urges to just have fun, to just ask for a hug or to cry in the embrace of a loved one, and the believe of what he thinks he must do, stay strong and brave and keep his siblings safe so that they do not share his pain, so that they know they are loved and appreciated and that they are safe with him.

Leonarda who shares her pa Foolish's loneliness.

Leonarda who has so very few people she feels like she can trust, so very few people she believes would even care to look at her twice, and who has lost, on multiple occasions, those people, who has felt alone and scared too many times to count.

She hides her feelings deep inside even when it hurts, can't bear to expose them to the world because she knows how easily the world will step on them, how easily they will laugh at her or even ignore her pain because they are so very used to not thinking about her at all. Leo who clings to her loved ones with protective fierceness, even with jealousy, because she has so very few of them.

Just a child, a child like the others, yet most of the time people don't seem to take her seriously, just like they don't take her pa seriously, Leonarda who just like her pa Vegetta feels like she must step up as the protector, that she has to take charge into protecting the one person who has always seem and understood her, who will put him above everyone else because she knows that they will never be anyone's else priorities.

Lonely little girl with her lonely silly father, waiting for a ghost, surviving on memories.

Dapper who is the victim of sins that don't belong to her. Dapper, forever burdened by actions they didn't take, a child punished by the sins of the father. A child, who will gladly take the burden of pain if that means his sister and father will remain safe and unharmed.

Dapper who trusts very few people, Dapper who like her father keeps her plans to herself, who wants to fix things with his own hands, who doesn't want others to be sucked into their plans, who doesn't want anyone to ever be hurt for their sake, Dapper who loves so very deeply but who like the man who raises him do not know how to trust, how to let others help.

A child, so familiar with death. A child, so understanding that everything comes to an end, so utterly aware that her time is counted and all the implications of it. A child, like her father, so connected with death, a child who does not fear death, but rather the consequences of his passing will have on the ones he loves the most. A child, who never puts himself as a priority in his plans, a child who always thinks about the bigger picture, who hides her pain and his fears because they are not as important as getting the results.

Ramon who is so serious, so comically serious, a child who tries to behave so much older than his years. Ramon who doesn't like to be sentimental, who doesn't like to talk about mushy things, who doesn't even call Fit "dad" even if he has loved him since the beginning.

A child forced to grow up so quickly. A child with adult's fears. A child who wants to make plans for his father in case one day he wouldn't be here to take care of Fit anymore, who wants him to have other people.

Ramon who will show his love in little gestures, in short phrases he will pretend he never said after, who like Fit tackles emotions like dangerous mobs, who don't know how to tame the storm that breeds inside his chest, who doesn't know how to express the vulnerability that lays inside him, who would rather kill that part of himself. Ramon who loves, heavens, how much does he love, and he will show it in his actions, he will show it by putting himself in front of his sisters when there is danger close, he will show it by watching their favorite movies without complaining, he will show it by helping his father, he will show it in silent companionship, he will show it in tiny little smiles.

Ramon who loves so much, so deeply, Ramon who doesn't believe he has done anything to earn the same love back, Ramon who thinks he has to give and give and give to deserve the love that he has never realized is freely given. Ramon who is too much like Fit to recognize his own importance, his own worth, Ramon who, like Fit, doesn't think he could be loved simply by who he is.

Tallulah who understands her papi now.

That recognizes she was just a silly little girl when they met for the first time, who dreamed of the impossible. Stupid for ever thinking that her love alone would be enough, that she could love enough for both herself and Wilbur.

She couldn't, of course she couldn't. Wilbur didn't belong to the Island, like herself he was too big for this place, unable to lay down his roots, a leaf in the wind just passing by with no intention of ever building a home, or staying in the same place for too long.

It's not his fault, she tries to tell herself when rage builds a nest inside her heart, it's not his fault his calling is elsewhere, it's not his fault he cannot stand to be locked up, that he has the freedom everyone else dies and kills for. He tried, he warned her, but Tallulah had been alone and afraid, a silly little girl who believed in fairy tales, who believed she could be loved as fiercely as she longed to love another.

(That is something they share as well, not that Tallulah knows it- They love deeply, herself and Wilbur, they cling to love with desperation, trying to fill an unending void that lives inside their hearts, an emptiness that comes from never feeling like you are someone's priority, that comes from never fitting anywhere.)

Her love alone could not hold them together exactly how no one's love can hold her together now.

Tallulah who is her father's daughter, who is shaped not by his presence but rather by the empty spot he left in her heart, one that cannot be filled by anyone else, no matter how much they may love her.

Children, forced to grow up too fast, too quickly. Children who learned so much from their parents.

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itzz-salem · 18 days

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Can you describe more puppy playdates? Maybe with 3 pups? Oh and the owners cheering for them in the background?

I really love them

Sure! I can give it a try! :3.

Tbh that sounds so fun! Imagine being the smaller pup with two bigger and more dominant mutts. The big ol pile that would happen after a play fight of whos the strongest. Having one pin down the smaller, rutting against their puppy parts while the other holds the pups face towards their crotch. The amount of pup and dog nosies that would ensue. All the barking, whimpering, yapping ect ect, and of course all the praise and cooing from the owners that are on the sideline. Watching the show of the three pups in their playdate.

All the different positions and arrangements that can come from three pups is so fun to imagine and think about. The different dynamics of submissive and domanit. Just think!! Two submissive and one big bad mutt that'll try so hard to dominate both or even two dominates taking turns with the one submissive pup. Or don't bother with taking turns and just go all out and take the pup together.

Hope this is alright, I kinda just ramble about things I find interesting or fun. It's nowhere near polished, but I tried! ｡:ﾟ૮ ˶ˆ ﻌ ˆ˶ ა ﾟ:｡

#salem speaks #dumb puppy #petpl@y #pup rambles #puppy thoughts #pet pl4y #petpl4y #pup #puppy sub #nsft puppy #puppy play dates #ask #i tried?#i also tried to keep everything gender neutral #puppy space #bd/sm puppy #puppy time

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askthetraveller · 1 year

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Messes around with a human trav ref for NO REASON WHATSOEVER hah.

#askthetraveller #ooc #traveller arceus #pokeask #i tried?

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heygerald · 2 years

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OLD HABITS DIE HARD - Part 1

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x oc

After years away, Lt. Zoe “Buzzard” Preston is back in Miramar as a candidate for a top secret mission. She’s excited for it, ready too. Her entire career has been building up to this moment. What she’s a little less excited for is a reunion with a starry eyed, smart-mouthed pilot who had broken her heart the first time around. Maybe, just maybe, this time she’ll be able to finally put him in her rearview mirror. Or maybe she’ll be forced to face the things that she preferred to keep in the dust.

Keep reading here: ... / part 2 / part 3 / *bonus chapter* / part 4 / part 5 / *bonus chapter* / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / *say yes*

Five years. Ten months. Give or take a handful of weeks. A number of days.

A shit load of time.

And yet, very little changed at Miramar during it. Sure, The Hard Deck had gotten a new owner who brought out all the bells and whistles; model plans and mugs hung from thousands of hooks in the ceilings. A new wave of steadfast patrons had filed in since the first glimmer of sunset on the California coast. New beer on tap left the old souls searching for something hoppy but cold, delicious but traditional. The parking lot had gotten a new coat of tarmac. The beach had gotten some new nets for volleyball and an array of food trucks. The base had gotten in a new era of plans, a change in CO a few times over, and the barracks had a fresh splattering of paint on them.

But, as Lieutenant Zoe Preston stared up at the open doors with sandy feet and sunkissed skin, she could still hear the familiar crow of laughter and insults and egos that somehow managed to float above the Jukebox.

Not much had changed, she figured, not where it mattered.

A group of sailors whistled at her as she strode by. Familiar faces from her stint at Miramar half a decade earlier mixed with some unfamiliar faces that she wouldn’t care to remember come morning.

“Boys,” she winked.

One of them, a mechanic named Mason who had spent more than one weekend trying to buy her a drink, tipped his beer at her with a devious smirk.

“Back so soon, Preston?”

“You know me,” she gave a lofty glance at the blinking sign. “I could never say no to a little bit of trouble.”

“Yeah, well, trouble is already waiting for you inside. I think you’re the last to show up,” he noted.

He held the door open as she stepped inside, took a deep whiff of sandalwood and spilt beer, watched as the crowd swept around her like she was a buoy out at sea. Penny wiped down the bar top with a rag while chatting amicably with a dark haired man that looked a flicker too familiar from his side profile, but her gaze quickly moved on to the crowd at the pool table just beyond.

A crowd that she knew too well, bickering with a tone that she would never quite forget.

“I’m surprised that you made it here at all, Bradshaw.”

“Why? Didn’t think I might be in your tail wind?”

“Thought you might run out of jet fuel before you made it to the shoreline,” Hangman shot back. There was the familiar wisp of a smirk on his face as he rattled the pool balls with a swift flick of his wrist. Zoe didn’t need to know whether he was stripes or solid to know that he was winning—it was, afterall, the one thing that he did best in life.

Maybe the only thing he did well.

“You know, considering that you always burn your fuel instead of making a decision,” came the punchline of his cloying insult; barely loud enough to be heard above the crowd.

Rooster shook his head. A few sun-streaked wisps of hair bounced on his forehead, and Zoe bit back a smile as she drew closer. Time away had done him good; it had bronzed his skin and made him look a little bit more like the Bradshaw that she knew rather than the one people whispered about when they realized who his dad was.

“I don’t need you to worry about me, Bagman. I made it here all on my own.”

“That’s not entirely true, is it?” Hangman pointed his pool stick at Rooster before turning back to the table with a snicker. He smacked the cue ball once more, sending several balls into their designated pockets, before grinning at anyone who would give him their attention. Meandering—more like prancing—to the other side of the table where the cue ball laid in waiting, he tutted, “Phoenix over here was practically begging for you to show up. She needs someone to keep her tail up, afterall.”

“Fuck off, Bagman,” Phoenix clipped, arms loosely crossed over her chest.

“It’s Hangman. And it’s true. Not to worry though, you got Bob now. That should be great for your skillset. I’m sure he’s worthy of your time.”

The WSO in question—one Zoe didn’t recognize but could already tell that he might be the brunt of everyone’s humor if his stunned silence was anything to go by—twisted a little uncomfortably at the side of the group, spectacles perched on the top of his nose as he glanced between his new pilot and the man who had just taken a pool stick out of his hands. He hadn’t even put up a fight for it; just let the betrayal happen while remaining respectful to all parties involved.

Phoenix pulled her lips tight as Hangman lined up his last shot, retort coming.

Zoe, not for the first time, delighted in beating her to the punch.

“Considering that fact that Phoenix had a better run score than you did, Bagman, I thought you would have grown a little bit more appreciative of her skills after all these years.”

Phoenix spun on her heel. Hangman jerked his wrist, sending the cue ball wildly spinning into a pocket on the opposite corner of the table, missing the eight ball entirely. Yale grinned as Zoe stepped forward into the group; laughter lighting up his eyes as he looked her over.

“Holy shit,” Phoenix crowed. “Buzz! In the flesh!”

“What’d you expect?” Zoe quipped back, arms still crossed as she grinned at the room.

“I expected you to be in a metal grave by now,” Harvard taunted. Though, when she narrowed her eyes in his direction, his face loosened into the flicker of a smile. Odd friends, even odder enemies, she supposed. “Guess the name still fits, though, huh?”

“Yours doesn’t. You’re still the stupidest fucker I know.”

The ones who didn’t know Zoe watched the scene carefully. The ones that did know Zoe let her insults wash over, taking them as seriously as a grain of salt knowing that she was always quick to snarl but slow to bite. Yale snorted as he patted Harvard on the shoulder, earning a glare from the former, but then laughter, true and hearty, broke through the tension. Phoenix cut through the space the quickest to pull Zoe into a bone crushing hug. They knocked boots so hard that the pair nearly went careening down to the floor, and if it weren’t for Rooster propping her up with a warm hand to the shoulder, they might have made real asses of themselves.

“I should have known you would be here,” Phoenix muttered into her ear.

When she let go, Rooster was quick to pull her into a looser, if not warmer hug that made Zoe’s face crack open with a happy smile. It had been too long since she saw them; too long since her and Phoenix were tearing the tarmac up during Top Gun and since her and Rooster were getting drunk at the local bar.

“You think I’d miss this shitshow?”

“Shitshow?” Hangman echoed, offended almost.

His face was tight as he looked her over; green eyes scouring every inch of her. She looked the same, she knew, but different in the best of ways. Like how her hair was longer, skin was healthier, and bones were stronger. If he noticed, though, he made no indication. Just let that stupid smirk of his draw his features as he leaned onto the pool table with the cue stick in hand.

“I think we’re in trouble if that’s all this is,” he told her half-heartedly. “Though, I get it. The talent is a bit lacking.”

“Self retrospection, Seresin? How progressive of you.”

He snorted. Sorta. It was more a mix of a startled laugh and then an annoyed grunt when he realized she had gotten a laugh out of him at all. Zoe figured that was pretty on par for him, though.

The way his smile seemed to tighten at the edges, however, wasn’t.

“Always quick with the quips, Preston,” he returned to the table. Somehow, despite his mess-up upon her arrival, he was still winning. It wouldn’t take him long now to sink the eight ball into the corner if he was anything like the guy she knew. “Hopefully, you’re just as quick with the maneuvers.”

“Scared?”

“Bored and looking for a good competition.”

The group rolled their eyes in unison at that. Phoenix, maybe, the hardest. Her and Hangman had hated one another since day one when he insinuated that she shouldn’t be a pilot just because she lacked the balls (both physically and metaphorically) for the job. Of course, he had shut up about that as soon as Zoe shot him down during an exercise. Still, the wound had never fully healed over their years apart. It seemed that the distance had only left the wounded ego to fester even further.

She turned her back on him to face Rooster and Zoe.

“Were neither of you going to tell me that you were back in the states?”

They shared a look.

“You want a beer?” Rooster asked Zoe, not even attempting to seem like he was avoiding the argument at hand. She smiled back. “Yeah. I’m gonna get us some beers.”

He disappeared into the crowd. Phoenix put her hands on her hips.

“Coward!” she shouted after him.

“Big words from a little lady like yourself, P.”

“You’re such a dick,” she said, but the insult was clearly lacking malice. Instead, as the two women stared at one another, they both found themselves laughing at the idiocy of it all. Phoenix shook her head before pulling two other pilots into the conversation. “Fanboy, Payback, meet my sister from our early days at Top Gun. Zoe ‘Buzzard’ Preston. Buzz for short.”

“You two were in the same class?” Fanboy asked.

“Oh fuck yeah,” Phoenix laughed at the memory as Zoe winked at the boys in succession. “We were the best there was. Other than Bagman, of course. Buzz was almost number one, too; would have been if it wasn’t Seresin’s tendency to leave everyone else out to dry just for the sake of being an asshole.”

Payback laughed. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that vibe.”

“Just wait till you get to know him a little better,” Zoe said.

She wasn’t exactly bitter about the whole second place thing, not anymore anyways. But she still was a little hurt—no matter how much she wanted to believe that she wasn’t—that he had so carelessly tossed their relationship into the trash over such a trivial little thing as a medal. Second place was fine by her, anyways. She got a good station and a successful career to boot. One that brought her back here of all places; right alongside him.

First place couldn’t mean all that much, then, could it?

“I’d recommend never expecting him to be your wingman,” she snarked.

Perhaps, maybe, just a little bit, bitter. But who could blame her? She deserved to have a little bit of bitterness even after all this time. Hangman seemed worthy of it seeing as how his ego had yet to be reigned in after all these years.

“In a bar or in the sky?” Fanboy asked.

Phoenix laughed around the neck of her beer. “Either,” she told them.

The boys shared a look; a silent conversation passing between that could only truly exist between a pilot and his WSO. No one bothered to ask what the conversation itself was about. The girls didn’t care enough to inquire, nor did they want to have a peek into the pair’s head just hours before their first training exercise.

That could all wait till tomorrow when it really mattered.

“So, what sort of name is Buzzard, anyways?” Fanboy asked after a moment.

“I don’t know. What sort of name is Fanboy? You a Belieber or something?”

Payback guffawed into his drink, earning a hard elbow to the gut from his WSO. He winced, but didn’t apologize. Just wiped the spilt beer off his chin with a smile and said, “during flight school, he was always ending up in the nursing bay for one thing or another. We joked that it was to make his fans happy. The nurses all had heart eyes for him at one point or another.”

“You accident prone, Fanboy?”

“Just like to please the ladies when I can,” he shot back. Phoenix faked a gag while Zoe rolled her eyes humorously. Not one to let it go, though, he turned his gaze back to her to ask again. “But, seriously? What’s with all the bird names around here? First there’s Phoenix, then Rooster, now Buzzard? I mean, I know that you two are birds and all, but Rooster doesn’t exactly fit the bill.”

Payback snickered. “Well, Rooster fits it better than they do seeing as he actually has a co--oof!”

He keeled forward at the waist, moaning in dramatics from where Phoenix had sent her elbow swiftly into his stomach. A little green in the face, he held his hands up as if to offer an apology, while mumbling, “alright, geez. Sorry, Mom. It was just a joke.”

“Her name has nothing to do with her genitals,” Phoenix tutted, almost proudly.

“A weird way to defend me, but still true,” Zoe snarked at her friend. When she got the tail-end of Phoenix’s glare, however, she stepped far enough away that she wasn’t in reach of the woman’s elbows. It sent her backing up into Bob who quickly apologized—as if it was his fault in the first place—before moving to her opposite side so that Zoe had the free space next to the pool table. “How does anyone get their nickname, Fanboy? I didn’t pick it. It was given to me. Take it up with flight school, yeah?”

“There has to be some sort of meaning.”

She harrumphed, knowing damn well there was a meaning. “Well, it’s—”

“It’s because when everyone else is dead,” a smooth voice cut through the fold. The four turned to find Hangman standing over their shoulder, bent over the edge of the pool table about to take his turn. He blinked up at the group, green eyes burning a line down her face, before swiftly turning away. “She’s the only one left circling the bodies. Earned the name in the early days when she was somewhat good at training exercises. More so that she just knows how to run away without getting shot, though.”

He punctuated his statement by throwing his arm forward. The cue ball clacked against the eight ball, sending it into the corner at the far left of the table, leaving Yale and Harvard to groan about losing to him so quickly. Ego stocked, she watched Hangman stand to his full height with a smirk.

“Isn’t that right, Preston?”

There was something suave about how he spoke, a staccato that Zoe had missed in their years apart, but something burning and sharp and deadly all the same. All those years ago she had been convinced she was in love with him because of who he was beneath the moonlight when no one else was around, but years apart had made her realize that she was really just addicted to the adrenaline of him. It was no different than the job. Her hands twitched and her brow would pool sweat and her heart would thump a rhythm in her chest that made her feel more alive then she would ever know anywhere else when he fixed her with his attention.

But then just as quickly when he moved his attention elsewhere, she would return to the tarmac, her head would clear, and she would be forced to remember that who he was in the moonlight wasn’t the real him. Not really anyways. Who he was in the moonlight was just the version of him that she was attracted to; the soft side, the caring side, the side that made her feel seen.

And what good was all that when his prominent side was like this. A total dick.

“Well, you would know,” she shot back. “You were dead all those times, afterall.”

His smile twitched a little, eyes darkening, before he got his footing.

“Still got number one, though.”

Her smirk became a little less of a smile and a little more of a snarl. It was so easy to fall into this quibble with him, fall back into dangerous patterns, and if the bar was a little bit shittier and a little less packed, Zoe might have thought that no time had passed at all.

But it did.

And she was glad for it.

“Still don’t have anyone to watch your back, though. Do you?”

For the second time that night, she watched his smirk twitch a little at the side. Almost as if what she was saying actually broke through his exterior to leave a mark on the man beneath. She doubted that was the case; quickly scolded herself for thinking that he was capable of having a hurt pride at all, let alone from someone like her.

Old habits die hard, she supposed, but they do die.

Hangman cracked his mouth open to make a retort, no doubt rude and egotistical, but before he could the music from the jukebox cut off. The bar groaned, heads turning left and right to figure out what had happened, before someone started keying up the piano. Zoe heard the first notes of a familiar song, and turned to Phoenix with a knowing grin.

“Leave it to Rooster to sniff out a piano.”

“Are you complaining?” Phoenix grabbed a few of the boys; Fanboy, Payback, Coyote, and even Bob, before ushering them excitedly towards the other side of the bar. “I guess you’re not getting that beer any time soon.”

“Probably shouldn’t have expected anything less. Rooster is so cheap sometimes.”

Phoenix threw her head back with a laugh before disappearing into the crowd. The pool tables were suddenly much less crowded as the bar patrons slowly started to be pulled to where the music was. Hangman stood amidst it all, cue stick limp in hand, gaping in confusion.

“What the hell happened to the jukebox?” he asked.

Zoe snickered. He blinked at her with a small frown. She just arched a brow in retort before grabbing his beer off the side of the table to take a swig.

“Rooster might not be an egomaniac like you, but he still loves to sing,” she said as if it were a simple truth. “Besides, you have a shit taste in music.”

“I—I don’t,” he said. Then his frown deepened into a scowl as he snagged his beer back out of her hands. Despite not having qualms when she insulted him earlier, he didn’t seem to be excited about how she was jumping to Rooster’s defense so easily. “What’s with you two, anyways? You fucking or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “As if I’d ever date a pilot again.”

“Doesn’t mean that you’re not fucking.”

“Alright,” she narrowed her eyes in turn, mouth pinching a little bit at the unpleasurable turn of conversation. She forgot he could sour things so effortlessly. “No. We’re not fucking. Not that it’s any of your business if we were.”

“Then—?”

“What’s the saying, Bagman? Birds of a feather tend to stick together?” she said with a forceful loftiness, enjoying his misery a little too much for anything else.

“He’s a dickhead.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

“He can’t fly.”

“He’s here, isn’t he?”

Jake pinched his mouth tighter, gripped his beer a little harder. “He’s a total tool.”

“Careful, Seresin,” she quipped, enjoying his bad attitude even less now that the conversation was beginning to reach murky waters. Still, a smirk and sarcasm were as good as duct tape in a situation like this; able to manage today what she could worry about fixing tomorrow. “You almost sound jealous of him.”

He went stiff beside her.

“Please,” he scoffed as if the entire idea was ridiculous. Though, when his eyes darted to the crowded piano on the far side of the bar where the crowd was now raucously joining in on singing, she caught the briefest flicker of uncertainty. “I’ve heard all about Bradshaw through the rumor mill. He isn’t half the pilot he thinks he is. He’s more likely to stall out than to make a kill.”

“What? Like you?”

“I have the record for a reason.”

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” she muttered.

“Maybe if someone else here had made a kill, I would. But, I doubt that will happen anytime soon. Especially not when they select me as team leader. I make the shots; both the kill and the instructions.”

Zoe sighed.

Yeah, she thought with a brief flicker of misery, things really didn’t change.

“Glad to see that you’re still the same after all these years,” she rolled her eyes. She watched his eyes brighten, mouth quirking upwards, but before he could let the insult be taken as a compliment, she added, “You’re still an asshole who cares more about being number one than anything else. Like, you know, the fact that not everything is about being a pilot.”

The brightness froze in his eyes instantly, before he was frowning at her, eyebrows knit tightly in the middle of his forehead. It was, perhaps, the most genuine reaction he had given her yet.

“That’s not true.”

“And you’re still a shit liar, Seresin.”

He stared at her. Gaped, almost. Green eyes somehow both dark and bright as they swept over her features, looking for something, though she wasn’t sure what. She simply stared back, looking for something, though she wasn’t so sure of what that was either.

“Look, Zoe, I—”

“Jesus Christ, Buzz, what the fuck is going on here?” an amused voice cut through their staring contest like a knife through water.

Zoe turned to find Dylan ‘Stitch’ Chutsky looming over her with damp hair and glistening skin, the curl of a smile burning a line across his pale features as he glanced around the bar. It was easy for him to do given the foot of height he had on Zoe, and not for the first time, she found herself relieved in her WSO’s presence. He had a uncanny habit of showing up at the worst of times with his endless snark and pointed insults.

Right now, however, as she let out a breath of tension that she didn’t even realize she had been holding, wasn’t one of them.

Stitch arched a sharp brow with an equally sharp grin before asking, “are we on American Idol right now or is everyone in the bar just really fucking drunk already?”

She laughed, allowing her shoulders to lose a little bit of their stress.

“Rooster found a piano,” she said, as if that explained everything.

Stitch nodded as if it did. “The jukebox is out? I thought Penny would have replaced that old shit box with one that worked properly by now.”

“Something like that,” she simpered with a glance at the blonde beside her. She could tell that Hangman was trying to keep that damned smirk of his plastered in place, but as she poked a little more at Rooster’s musical talent, it flickered at the edges. “He always did like the attention, though.”

Stitch hummed. “I forgot he could do that.”

“Sing?”

“Make an entire bar of people fall in love with him because he knows how to play a few keys on a piano.”

“I wouldn’t say that they’re in love with him. He’s just playing a song that everybody knows,” Hangman argued, a little hot for the easy conversation that had been passing between the pair.

They both turned to look at him. Stitch, blinking as if he only just recognized his presence, didn’t seem all that bothered by his acrid tone. Zoe, on the other hand, felt a headache forming when she noted the way his gaze swept over Stitch condescendingly.

“Who are you?”

“Stitch.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me? I’ve never heard of you.”

Stitch let out a bark of laughter; not entirely amused, but certainly not unamused. He always did walk that fine line, enjoying a little bit of chaos in his life as if hurtling around enemy air space inside a jet wasn’t enough. “I’m her WSO, asshat,” he shot back. His tone was just as acrid, but the easy going smile on his face made it seem a little less so. “Who the hell are you?”

“Hangman.”

“You’re Hangman?”

“Heard a lot about me?” Jake stood a little straight, puffed out his chest.

It deflated almost as quickly when Stitch just belted out another mean laugh, shaking his head while sharing a look with Zoe that certainly couldn’t have been construed as complementary. “Nothing you’d want me to repeat. I got to say, though, that you’re a lot smaller than I expected. With all those rumors flying about, I would have thought your shoulders would have been bigger. Y’know, to withstand the weight of your ginormous fucking head.”

Hangman’s smile turned icy, harsh. “Why don’t you dial it back a bit, buddy. You’re not even a pilot.”

“As if I haven’t heard that one before.”

Hangman floundered for a moment at Stitch’s apparent inability to take insult no matter how insulting someone could be. Shaking his head, his eyes darted to meet Zoe’s. She tried to stifle her smile when he did so, but, if she were being honest, it was hilarious to watch Stitch ding Hangman’s vanity without even breaking a sweat.

Especially when she had spent the better part of their first two years together telling Stitch about all the different ways that Jake ‘Hangman” Seresin had broken her heart to smithereens.

“What happened to Nantucket?” Hangman asked her after a moment.

“He got reassigned,” she shrugged. They had been through a hell of a lot back at Top Gun, but almost immediately after he got himself reassigned for losing his temper one too many times. She had been sad to see her partner go after so much blood, sweat, and tears together, but Stitch had been the best replacement anyone could ask for. Now, five years after the fact, she hardly ever thought about her former WSO. “Stitch has been with me ever since.”

Hangman harrumphed. “I liked Nantucket,” he said; the implication was clear.

“Well, I’m sure you would, Nantucket never had a problem with you abandoning us during the training exercises because of his little man crush on you. Stitch has a bit more of a backbone. Makes it a lot easier to like someone when they actually have your back up in the sky.”

There was that flicker again in his eyes, the tightness of his smile.

She ignored it to nudge Stitch towards the piano.

“C’mon, let’s go sing. Rooster is gonna want to talk to you, anyways. You still owe him money from that bet, remember? Back in Miami.”

Stitch threw his head back with a groan. “Fuck! I forgot about that. You think he’d take a lap dance as payment? I have, like, ten dollars in my bank account right now. Apparently buying stock in Blockbuster isn’t as lucrative as one might have expected.”

She shoved him forward with an incredulous laugh. The things that he said were always so out of pocket that it was almost impossible not to laugh at him, but clearly he didn’t think his financial woes were as humorous as she did, and in response he flashed her a scandalized look over his shoulder.

“I’m serious, Buzz,” he huffed. “I might need to start panhandling for money soon. Or, worse, I might have to move in with you. Imagine the impact that will have on my sex life.”

“Just go,” Zoe gave him another shove, another laugh, and was about to follow when a hand circled around her wrist; gentle but firm, warm but ice cold.

“Buzz.”

Zoe turned to find Hangman staring at her with a look that she couldn’t quite place; a look that she wasn’t sure she had ever seen him wear. Was that regret? Or disgust? Longing? Or was he about to tell her to keep their former relationship to herself because he didn’t want to give the other pilots any sort of leg up on him during training?

She used to think that she knew everything about him. Every quirk, every smile.

But that wasn’t actually true. And it certainly wasn’t true anymore.

“I—” he paused, floundered a little bit, eyes darting around the packed room as he took a deep breath. She furrowed her brows at him with a glance at the hand circled around her wrist, not liking the way her skin still smoldered under his touch after all these years. He noticed her gaze, and a moment later Zoe watched as he settled back onto his heels while licking his lips, hand dropping from her wrist. “Be careful trusting Rooster up there. The kid tends to freak out when he’s under pressure.”

Zoe frowned, bewildered.

It seemed like he wanted to say something more, but he never did, and she had grown tired of waiting for something from him that would never come.

Why did she always expect so much from him?

Shaking her own head, she shot him a winning grin that was as acidic as it was bitter along the edges. “I think you’re the last person that gets to lecture me about trust, Bagman.

He frowned at the use of the nickname that everyone had shoved upon him for his behavior up in the sky. And it did hurt a little to say; hurt when she knew how much it actually bothered him. But then she reminded herself that she didn’t care—couldn’t waste her time caring, not again—and quickly started shoving her way through the crowd. Rooster had finished his song now, but there were yells for him to sing something else, and by the time she got to a free spot at the piano, he was already banging another tune onto the keys with his shoulders thrown back.

Phoenix smiled at her, then glanced over her shoulder, and asked, “you good?”

“Sure,” she shrugged.

“Hangman’s an asshole,” the brunette replied, as if that could fix everything from the past. It wouldn’t, they both knew, but it wouldn’t be the last time that Phoenix tried to remind Zoe of that fact either. “Don’t worry about him, though. Bob and I got your back. Right Bob?”

The bespectacled WSO glanced between the woman in confusion. “Uh, right. Yep. Yes ma’am. That’s the job, anyways. I got your back.”

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about, do you?” Zoe asked with a wry smile.

He hesitated.

Laughing, Zoe forgave him as soon as she threw a hand over his shoulder. “You and Stitch are gonna get along great. Maybe a little too, well, actually,” she said while rustling his hair. “In fact, don’t ever offer to do him a favor no matter how charming he might seem. You seem a little too nice to end up in the county jail for that idiot.”

Bob didn’t seem too convinced. “Sounds good to me, ma’am.”

Zoe laughed again. There was something entirely too sweet about the little man tucked beneath her arm. Something endearing that would likely get spit out if he didn’t also know how to piss people off.

Maybe Hangman could teach him a thing or two about being upfront with people.

As if knowing where her mind went, Phoenix added, “I don’t know what you ever saw in that guy, by the way. Once you get past the rakishly nice face, you see that everything else is a total shitstorm.”

“Since when do you call Hangman rakish?”

“Since I have a pair of eyes and the sunset lighting seems to make his skin glow. Plus, I saw the way you looked at each other, as if no time had actually passed,” Phoenix told her with a knowing look. Zoe scowled a little. Particularly when Bob’s gaze darted towards the blonde in question upon learning that little nugget of information. “It’s hard not to, really. I’m just trying to play along with it so that you’ll finally listen to me this time. No dick is worth that.”

“There’s nothing there, anymore, P.”

“That’s exactly what you said last time too.”

“Yeah, well, this time I mean it,” Zoe rolled her eyes. She shot Bob a scowl when he raised his brows at her from beneath his glasses, clearly not convinced despite not even knowing the majority of her story. He blushed at being caught, but didn’t apologize. Groaning at them all, she said, “I’m serious! Hangman is a has-been. I’m onto better and brighter things now.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Sure.”

“Don’t make me kick your ass, P. It’s early in the night but I will.”

Her brunette companion grinned. “As if you could.”

Zoe let out a noise of incredulity, but before she could make good on her threat, Stitch was inserting himself into the equation with a beer in each hand. Sometimes, she swore that he had a sixth sense about when to interrupt conversations. She minded a little bit less when he offered her one of his beers—half empty already, she noted, but said nothing—before he was sucking down the other with a curious glance at the trio.

“What’d I miss?” he asked.

Zoe glared at Phoenix, daring her to bring up Hangman to her WSO. Wisely, she said nothing. That left Bob to clear his throat and say, “uh… something about shots?”

Stitch didn’t even question it. Just threw his head back with a wild grin.

“Shots!” he shouted.

Phoenix laughed as she followed him to the bar, Bob in tow, leaving Zoe to shake her head after them with a hearty laugh. When she did follow, she ignored the pair of mossy green eyes that followed her towards the bar, and when she threw her shot back with a cry, she definitely didn’t think about how that has-been still tended to make her feel.

#jake hangman seresin #hangman x oc #jake seresin x oc #top gun maverick #top gun imagine #jake seresin imagine #jake hangman seresin imagine #angst #fanfiction #i tried?#more to come #old habits die hard

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dark-raven-feathers · 3 months

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He had a reputation, you see, for being a sorcerer.

As a schoolmaster though, he was alright. He never did hex us, and he taught well enough. Even managed to keep my rat of a brother on the bench ‘til noon reading Script.

Then that cow started following him. We thought it was funny at first; maybe he’d stuck some hay to his trousers or put straw in his shoes so the cow could follow him, or maybe he had a lead tied to his wrist that he’d turned invisible so we couldn’t see it. And getting lessons canceled because that cow kept trying to follow him into the school made it all the more funnier.

Then my brother noticed him going into the woods every night. Didn’t think it was too weird; he was a sorcerer after all. Maybe he went in there to dance with his cow, or something.

When the king came back after a storm though, we started thinking something was going wrong in there. We started following him in, or at least tried to. He knew the woods better than us, and we always lost him after a minute or so. The closest we got was the big root halfway down the hunter’s trail; he took a turn after that, went around that huge tree, and disappeared into thin air.

Clearly that wasn’t going to work then. We did some other research, asked around (but not the adults. Mum would have skinned us alive if she knew we were trying to catch a witch), and landed on one of the boys who only came twice a week. He didn’t want to talk at first but when I told him we’d get him pudding he agreed. Sat us down in the field and told us the sorcerer wanted to sleep with his sister, and told him to get some hairs from “Down there”. His words, not mine. That was where the cow came in; got hairs from the cow's udder instead. Had a good laugh about it.

We weren’t the ones who turned him in. Mum would have had us dropped in the lake for sneaking around a witch anyways. Some other girl found him out and got the lot of them hanged. I think the worst part was that his real name was Fian, really. Cunningham sounded better.

[@solointhesand]

(Doctor John Fian gets investigated by his students except I wrote the aftermath first in the shape of an interview because… because)

#dark raven feathers #I tried?#I think?#John Fian #POV: you think your teacher is up to something witchy #Yeah no I’m continuing this to make up for the abhorrent quality of this one I’m missing the ritual part of the ingredients #Brb after I wake up at 4pm for morning band

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nobody-writes-stuff · 10 months

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James: Just hear me out.

Sirius: No! Absolutely not!

Remus: Sirius-

Sirius: No, I don’t talk to brotherf*ckers.

James: All we did was hold hands.

Sirius: shhhhhhh no don’t even speak it. You’ve betrayed me, my best friend and baby brother.

Regulus: Merlin Sirius, you’re so dramatic

#jegulus #marauders #i tried?

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originalblondebxtch · 7 months

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@witchyfayex

The night of the full moon approached Rebekah was prowling the streets, drawn by the supernatural energy that danced in the air during the full moon. As she wandered through the dimly lit streets, Rebekah couldn't help but feel a sense of restlessness. She was used to being the centre of attention and often indulged in fleeting romances to satisfy her desires. So it came as a surprise to the blonde when a certain brunette caught her attention within the streets at such a late hour. The smell of blood filling her senses concern immediately filling her features. Along with the scent of a male. Jealousy pulsating through her. ''Should I be concerned that you smell of blood- and the musk of what can only be described as a rat?'' she quizzed tilting her head slightly as her eyes scanned the girl for any injurys.

#i tried?#rebekah ; talks #rebekah ; faye

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scientificallytrainedwitch · 1 year

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Finally went on a date with this guy I’ve been talking to for actual ages, but there’s just no spark. I feel bad but not much that can be done 🤷🏻‍♀️

Hoping he also picked up on the lack of spark and I don’t have to deal with the consequences of my actions

#dating #oops #I tried?

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0h-the-guilt · 1 year

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Sometimes people come back for a reason.

When they do, and things go right, everything that happened to separate you two doesn’t seem to matter.

When someone is supposed to be in your life, they always make their way back.

That fight, boy, falling out that separated you two, seems to be worked out.

People who come back in your life are there for a reason if you believe in it.

#idk #I haven’t written anything in a while #I tried?#personal

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ekingston · 1 year

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Not trying to mean or diss the art but I thought it was avalance for a hot second till I saw Lena’s hair 😂 (not used to Kara’s hair being up I guess)

ok?

#honestly not sure what you want me to do with that #this is a supercorp art blog? i have never drawn lot characters and i doubt i ever will?#also:#i tried?#most of us fan artists dedicate an absurd amount of time attempting to get a convincing likeness of the characters they draw #so maybe next time you feel like informing one they managed only to mimic ‘blonde female’#don’t?#anonymous

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phantasia-system · 1 year

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This is fr destructodude

Uhm hiii nice to meet ya, id like to learn more abt u n whatnot, like why ur name is destructo dude, tho im guessing u like blowing shit up and fireworks :>

I hope u all r having a good day :D

Well, I would be glad to share some stuff about myself since I’m trying to sorta come out of my shell. My name is actually Darren, which I only recently remembered, but I chose DestructoDude because of the fact I was in the military and worked with heavier weapons and explosives, and whatnot. Also it sounds cool as fuck. I’m 27, and about 6’10? I’m bisexual with a heavy female/nonbinary preference, and gender is a whole other story I have yet to get to (male for now). I love animals and anything that isn’t human :-).

#my intro kinda #I tried?#yeah #-destructodude

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goodmorrowing · 2 years

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"another photo!!! it's so amazing 🖤 i did and it was shit and i'll do another one if you guys would like to hear it because of the firstmentioned 💀"

Wouldn't say no if you want to do another one

there's some very great ones that some very great anons have left but here's yet another from your deep darks of my brain ✨ in which dani and jamie contemplate questionable halloween costumes

j: i'm not wearing that, just so you know.

d: and what's so wrong with it?

j: have you seen it? the longer we're here, the more i'm convinced you don't have eyes—

d: jamie, you're dressing up this year.

j: but do i HAVE to—

d: yes, you have to! we met at a halloween party, jamie. and do you remember what you were dressed as?

j: ......

d: a detective.

j: it was a perfectly sound costume!

d: you wore a black shirt and a pair of jeans, and you kept saying, "it's what i wore to work this morning."

j: it was!

d: ......

d: what about this one?

j: this one? this one with... with the... is this a hot dog costume?

d: i think you'd like good in it.

j: please, dani, if you're going to make me dress up, at least let me keep a shred lf dignity.

d: you know, you could....

j: could what?

d: could go as....

j: go as?

d: you know...

j: i'm not going as velma dinkley.

d: BUT SHE'S A DETECTIVE!

j: that's such a cliche!

d: I COULD BE DAPHNE?

j: absolutey not.

d: THE COSTUMES ARE RIGHT! THERE!

#detective au #i tried?#it's 2:47 i can't write angst right now please cut me some slack 😭

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heygerald · 2 years

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OLD HABITS DIE HARD - PART 5/8

Jake “Hangman” Seresin x oc

Storms totally fucking suck. But some people make them a little bit better.

Catch up here: part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / *bonus chapter* / part 4 / ... / *bonus chapter* / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / *say yes*

Wind and rain howled outside the window, smattering the tarmac with pools of puddles that the crew would have to avoid come morning if the storm really did last until then like the weather reports predicted. A few palm trees swayed in the distance, illuminated by a sparse shock of lightning every twenty minutes or so. Zoe imagined that the lawn would be extra green come sunrise. Though, knowing the California coast, it would burnt a golden brown before the weekend.

Before she would get to enjoy it.

The lamp in the corner flickered with a rumble of thunder.

She settled her head onto the couch cushion to eye it listlessly. It barely lit anything in the room up as is, and so part of her hoped that it would stay on just so she didn’t bang her shins when she finally convinced herself to get up off the couch, but part of her also selfishly wanted to be swathed in darkness so she could just sleep in the common room instead of her own bed.

Another shock of lightning, another rumble of thunder.

The lamp stayed on.

She sighed, settling deeper onto the couch cushions, eyes drifting over the memorabilia as if that would miraculously lull her to sleep. It was a pointless endeavor, she knew, but still better than admitting that she likely wouldn’t sleep at all tonight.

Zoe was too amped up to do much of anything other than stare at the ceiling in misery, wishing that the storm would pass before too long, hoping to forget about the upcoming mission but knowing that was an impossible ask given how close it was now.

Blerg.

She hated nights like this; when she was stuck with nothing but her thoughts.

As if hearing her silent cries, someone flicked on the overhead lights, startling her upright. She groaned and threw her arms over her face. Almost just as quickly the person realized that the room wasn’t empty, and shut them off.

“Oh, shit, sorry.”

Darkness swallowed them both whole, and with nothing but the dull corner lamp, Zoe had to squint to make out any features. She saw blonde hair, green eyes, and a square jawline; all she would recognize even in her sleep.

“Jake?” she asked.

“Oh,” he ambled a little closer, squinting down at her. “Zoe? What are you doing?”

“Enjoying the calming sounds of the roof being ripped off its hinges, obviously,” she quipped in a ragged, sleep deprived voice. The joke didn’t quite land like she had hoped it would, and Jake scrubbed a hand over his features as if trying to rid himself of his sleepiness. Clearing her throat, she frowned. “What are you doing? It’s, like, midnight.”

“It’s almost two am,” he gave her an odd look.

Not having expected that much time to have passed, Zoe glanced at the clock on the wall. Big, blurry red letters blinked down at her with something that felt awfully judgmental for an inanimate object. She sighed realizing he was right, before depressing back onto the stuffy couch cushion.

“Oh. I didn’t even realize that… what are you doing?”

Jake grunted. Not quite awake but not quite asleep either, and bumbled through the darkness towards the fridge. With an ineptness that she wasn’t used to seeing in him, he managed to hit his shin on the counter.

He cursed, hopping a little on his other foot, before opening the fridge.

“I was hungry,” he told her while blearily riffling through its contents. He was quick to pull out a water bottle and only after gulping down half of it, did his voice sound a little less sleep-ragged; smoother, like she was used to. “The storm woke me up. You want something?”

Her stomach twisted in knots. “No,” she told him wisely.

“There’s not anything in here, anyways,” he sighed, sounding eerily annoyed for having just woken up a few minutes earlier. Eventually, he settled on a bowl of grapes. Shutting the fridge, she could barely make out his bright eyes peering over across the room. They squinted a little, discerning, and she was suddenly happy for the darkness. “Have you slept at all yet, tonight?”

Zoe blushed, glancing out at the storm.

“Not really.”

“Oh... do you want to talk about it?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s just one of those nights, I guess.”

“Aw, c’mon, Buzz,” he said, sounding more and more like his flagrant, smug self with every minute that he was with her even though his voice still had that croaky twang to it from just waking up. He nudged her legs aside with the back of his hand before promptly plopping down onto the opposite end of the couch. Zoe didn’t even bother protest; just let him stretch out, socked feet bumping her bare knees, shoulders wiggling as he adjusted into a more comfortable position. “I know you better than you think. It’s two am and you sound exhausted. And, if I remember correctly, you like your sleep.”

“Who doesn’t like sleep?”

“You like your sleep like a mother bear likes its cubs. Aggressive enough that everyone knows not to get between you and your bed.”

“You sure do know how to flatter a girl, Seresin.”

There was a gleam of light that she figured was him rolling his eyes, before something bounced off of her forehead. Zoe plucked a grape out of her bra.

“Did you just chuck a grape at me?”

“No,” he said. Then did it again.

“Will you—stop!”

“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” he simpered, popping a handful of grapes into his mouth to punctuate the point. Zoe might have punched him if she had more energy, but being angry this early in the morning took more effort than was worth the outcome. So, instead, she rolled her eyes at him before eating the grapes she had in hand. Jake watched her for another moment before softly nudging her with his foot. “You can talk about it, if you want. That always helped back during school.”

It did.

And, in some ways, it didn’t.

Especially when she didn’t know who he was right now; didn’t know what sort of shoulder he was offering to be, if it was just a ploy to get into her pants or something more. They definitely weren’t enemies, and ever since he had apologized to her on the beach they had fallen back into old patterns from when they were friends. He would save her a seat at lunch, she would offer him some water after a hot run on the tarmac. There was laughing and jokes like there used to be, but there was also something that there didn’t used to be.

Side eyeing and gentle touches and, dare she say, almost intimate conversations where he actually seemed interested in what she had to say. But she definitely wouldn’t say that they were more than friends because he was still him and she was still her and Zoe wasn’t about to throw herself back into that situation just yet.

Not that there was a situation to begin with because Jake was quieter now, stared at her more, frowned a little bit tighter when she joked around with Rooster but he didn’t flirt or make sexual innuendoes or ask her to bed. So there wasn’t exactly anything to think about except the fact itself that she was thinking about him constantly.

Which left her feeling like her stomach was in her throat. Like she was dive bombing in her jet. Like she wanted to punch him just as much as she wanted to kiss him.

“You’re gonna get picked, you know,” he said quietly, mistaking her moment of overwhelming thoughts as hesitation. Zoe furrowed her brows at him all the same. He looked at his hands, fiddling with a stem of grapes, before continuing. “For the mission. You and Stitch are shoe-ins. I’d bet that you’re Mav’s first choice for a wingman on this thing.”

She shook her head, eyes darting to the window where she watched raindrops streak down the pane. “Phoenix and Bob did way better in the timed exercise this week.”

“He takes two teams.”

“There’s still Fanboy and Payback. They had a better record than us today.”

“Maybe,” Jake shrugged. He was wearing nothing but a loose fitting tank top and a pair of gray sweatpants, and if she didn’t know him better, she might have thought that he was the epitome of comfort right now. But his smile was small and his eyebrows were pinched in the middle. “But Payback can’t handle the G’s that it takes to climb the hill. He’s passed out once already. And Fanboy has been struggling with getting a lock on the target.”

“Hm,” she pulled her sweatshirt tighter around herself. “Maybe.”

“You will,” he reaffirmed.

It was nice to hear that he had so much confidence in her; maybe more confidence than she had in herself, and not wanting the moment to be unbalanced, she nudged him with her pink toes. “You’re gonna get picked too.”

For once in his life, Zoe would have described his smile as bashful.

“Maybe,” he said.

She smiled softly at him, liking the way that he was quiet and shy in the dark when there was no one else to see, but also not liking the way it felt so familiar to all those years ago. It had been easy to fall in love with Jake. So easy that she cursed herself for it in the time that followed, wondering why she hadn’t seen the red flag, why she hadn’t caught on, why she had been so stupid.

But here, now, she realized that she wasn’t stupid.

Jake Seresin was just someone that was easy to love, even when you knew that you shouldn’t.

Zoe turned away before she could think about it anymore, roving her gaze to the ceiling where she watched lightning streak across the shadows every couple minutes. Jake didn’t say anything else, either. In fact, he fell so silent and still that she thought he might have actually fallen back asleep. But, when she glanced at him, he was just munching on his grapes with a thoughtful look on his face.

She pulled a lip between her teeth, chewed on it, then started, “hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you—”

A clap of thunder shook the entire building to the point that Zoe wondered if the foundation hadn’t splintered in two, and she jolted upright on the couch with a mangled squeal. Luckily, it wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the storm still raging outside, but the opposite end of the couch shook from Jake’s incredulous laughter.

“Jesus,” he wheezed. “What even was that noise?”

“Shut up,” she kicked him.

“No, seriously, is your throat alright? Because I know you’re scared of storms, but I think you might have just permanently damaged a vocal chord or something, Preston.”

“Oh, shove it,” she chucked a pillow at him. It hit his face with an indelicate thud, but did nothing to wipe the smile off of his features. Huffing, Zoe wrapped her arms around herself and tried to lie back down. Though, her gaze flickered to the window before she could stop herself when another flash of lightning peeled across the stormy sky. “I’m not scared of storms. I just… don’t, you know, enjoy them. No one does.”

“I don’t mind them.”

“No one with a brain then,” she harrumphed.

“I thought you liked the rain.”

“I do,” she said. Then, momentarily paused to glance at Jake. “How do you know that?”

“Seriously? Anytime it was raining back during training you always get this cute little smile on your face. You would drag me to sit with you outside on the porch so you could listen to it. I even went running with you one day during a fucking monsoon.”

“It wasn’t a monsoon,” she rolled her eyes.

“I had a cold for, like, a week.”

Zoe frowned, considering the memory. “I forgot about that.”

Really, what she meant was, she was surprised that he had remembered that in the first place. Or the fact that she liked listening to the rain. Their relationship hadn’t ended well, and Zoe had done everything she could in her power to forget about the days they spent talking to one another about nothing, wrapped up in bed, sharing their hopes and dreams with each other. Memories like that were too painful to consider when she lingered on how Jake had broken things off between them as if it were nothing.

But, if it were nothing, would he still cling to those memories?

Deciding she didn’t want to linger on that particular thought, Zoe nudged him with her toes, amending, “oh, yeah, I do remember. You complained about it for the next month. Something about how you thought you were gonna die.”

Indignation swept the smile right off his face. “I had a fever, Preston. People die of the flu every year, you know.”

“Not in April.”

“My bones were cracking every time I moved,” he popped another grape into his mouth, chewing through it while still arguing, “I was pretty sure there was fluid in my lung. You could have killed me. Maybe that was your plan all along.”

“If I wanted to kill you, I would have by now,” she huffed.

“There’s still tomorrow.”

She almost laughed. At him, at his humor, at how easy it was to fall into an intimate atmosphere when around Jake. But another clap of thunder boomed in the sky, effectively ruining the moment before he might have said something stupid enough to ruin it himself. With wide eyes, she glanced through the window nervously.

“The storm’s passing, Zoe. It’s gonna be fine.”

“It doesn’t sound like it’s passing.”

“The thunder is getting further apart,” he pointed out, all rough voice and tired eyes as he watched her. Still, that did little to quell the queasiness in her chest. She felt his weighted stare for another, long moment. Then, Jake set his empty bowl aside before waving a hand to her with a sigh. “Alright, come on.”

She glanced away from the window, furrowing her brows at him. “What?”

“You’re practically shaking the entire damn couch.”

“Okay, well, I was here first,” she said, nose in the air, if only to help her ignore the fact that she was shaking as much as he said she was. “But, that doesn’t mean I’m gonna cuddle you. Go bug Payback if you want someone to spoon.”

“I don’t wanna spoon anyone,” he said. Then added with a look, “and if I did, it definitely wouldn’t be him. Coyote is more my kinda guy. Or Bob, maybe.”

“Seriously?”

Jake shrugged harmlessly. “What can I say? The kid’s cute. Something about the glasses I think. Maybe the accent too.”

Zoe thought about how weird that sounded coming from someone like Jake. Someone that screamed masculinity and bro-code when he was strutting down the beach with sun-kissed shoulders because he refused to use sunscreen. Then again, he was an easy going guy who liked to joke around more than anything else. And he actually cared about his friends; despite what he said that might prove the opposite.

The oddness of his comment distorted with another crack of thunder.

“Seriously, Preston,” he waved at her. Almost impatiently. Almost because his tone was soft and encouraging, rather than annoyed or bored. His eyes gleamed in the darkness with something she couldn’t quite place, but that she selfishly hoped to remember come morning. “It’s not a big deal. I cuddle my friends all the time. But it is almost three am and we both need to sleep at some point.”

“You don’t have to wait around for me,” she argued, voice weak at best. “Plus, it’ll be... weird.”

“It won’t be weird,” he stated with a sigh. There was something vulnerable in his voice, though. Tomorrow, she would wonder if he did it reflexively or if he was trying to cover up something else. “Come on.”

Zoe bit her lip and looked at the storm outside, considering how much she did want to crawl into his arms despite everything. He had always made her feel safe, his arms tight around her, his breath hot on her throat as a reminder that he was real. And with her nerves fried from weeks of training and stress, she considered the possibility that doing so might actually get her to relax.

Sighing, she relented. “Okay. Just until the storm passes, though.”

"Just until the storm passes,” he said quietly.

He smiled a little when she looked at him, but it was tight at the corners. It matched the stress ringing his eyes, the slight furrowing of his brows. An odd thought; she rarely saw Jake stressed about anything, let alone something as trivial as asking a girl to cuddle.

“Okay,” she said again, this time more to herself as she tried not to linger on the look or the sound of his voice, the couch creaking beneath her as she moved.

It was a little awkward at first; bumbling.

Zoe tried to remain as small as possible as she fell into the space between him and the back couch cushion; him trying not to move her too much as he tried to put an arm beneath her shoulders; both of them struggling to remember the last time they had done something as intimate as this.

“I told you,” she muttered. “Weird.”

“So weird,” he replied. “It’s like we’ve never seen each other naked before.”

They blinked at each other. Him almost in disbelief that he had just said that and her stunned that she didn’t really mind the joke all that much. And when Zoe shook her head with a laugh, Jake did too. Something washed over them in the next moment. Something, not quite familiar, but peaceful. Not quite understood, but wanted.

Together, their bodies seemed to mold to one another like muscle memory.

Jake pulled her a little further onto his chest. She settled a knee between his legs while draping her free arm over his torso. His fingers skimmed where her sweatshirt had ridden up, shocks of warmth tingling along her spine from the simple touch. When she hitched her hip into a more comfortable position Jake settled his other hand onto the smooth indent of her leg. And when they were finally comfortable, they let out a deep, long breath in unison.

Suddenly, the storm didn’t feel so near.

“See?” he mumbled into her hair. His tone was breathy, and lacking the normal smugness that she had grown to hate over the years. “Better, right?”

There was a crack of thunder.

Zoe held her breath until she realized that it was, in fact, getting further away, and as Jake pulled her a little tighter against his chest, she nodded.

“Yeah,” her own tone was breathy. “Better.”

They fell into a comfortable silence like that. The storm growing further and further away, their eyes adjusting to the dimness of the room, the rain playing a staccato pitter-patter on the window pane. Somewhere behind them the clock ticked away. However, for the first time that night, Zoe didn’t seem to mind.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” his chest rumbled underneath her ear. “You have that look on your face.”

“Look?” she frowned up at him.

Jake said nothing though, gave nothing away about which particular look he was talking about or how he could recognize it in such a poorly lit room. Maybe that was a question she didn’t want answered anyway.

He arched a brow and she relented.

It never did take much prompting from him. Sometimes, when it came to Jake Seresin, she wondered if there was anything that she wouldn’t give up should he ask.

“I’m thinking about how I hope it’s still raining in the morning so I can go for a run. Even if the tarmac is wet, I still like to run in the rain,” she told him, only the barest sliver of joking in her voice. She would like to go for a run in the rain. But, seeing as how they still needed to perfect their flight maneuvers, rain was not something that she wanted to deal with slowing her down. That thought alone had the humor leaching from her voice. “And… I’m thinking about the mission.”

“Are you scared?”

She frowned. Was she?

“No,” she told him after a moment had passed, shaking her head against his shoulder. His breath hitched at the movement, and she forced herself to stop, assuming that her hair was tickling him. Instead, she cleared her throat while toying with the strings on her sweatshirt. “Not for myself, anyways. I guess I’m more worried about everyone else.”

“It’s going to be okay.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” she admitted. Maybe everyone would be totally fine and they could all go out for drinks afterwards. Or maybe something would go wrong that would result in the loss of a teammate. Or maybe everything would go wrong resulting in no one making it home. “Do you think that…”

He shifted, peering down at her through the darkness. “What?”

“What do you think is gonna happen when the mission is over? I mean, everyone is gonna get new stations; we’ll all get scattered. Probably around the world. Which sucks.”

Jake’s eyes tightened for a moment before his gaze darted to the window. “Rooster will visit you anywhere, you know. He’s made that fairly clear. He never stops talking about you when you’re in a training exercise without him.”

“I know. But it’s not just him. It’s Phoenix and Bob and Yale and…”

You.

The word caught in the back of her throat. Unsaid, unspoken, but somehow still floating in the air between them before she was able to stop it. She felt Jake go stiff beneath her, and suddenly Zoe wanted to disappear into the couch cushions so that she wouldn’t have to face what was coming next.

The flirty grin or sexual innuendo. The snarky comment. The rude rejection.

Eyes shut, she didn’t notice the way that Jake’s gaze darted over every inch of her features in shock, or the way that he licked his lips nervously, or the way that his hand tightened ever so slightly on her hip.

When he finally did speak, he said none of those things.

“You and Phoenix have been friends for years. She’s pretty committed to keeping you around, so she’s not just gonna forget about you. And neither will Bob. He’s a Southern gentleman, afterall. He’s probably been raised to write thank-you letters to every person he meets. Yale is an idiot, but he’s always on his phone. And as for…” Jake paused, licking his lips once more, before settling on, “the rest of us, we’re gonna miss hanging out with you. Miss the way that you get so fucking competitive at darts or sing completely off-key during workouts or obsessively knock your hand three times on the table before leaving for good luck.”

Zoe frowned. Did she do that? She didn’t even know.

“I’ll, ahem, we’ll miss you more than you could probably even realize. It’s not gonna be the same without you around. So don’t worry, you know. We’ll keep in touch.”

“Yeah?” she blinked up at him.

“Yeah,” he smiled. Toothy, but just a little bit cautious. “Definitely. Plus, everyone comes back to see Penny a couple times a year and she’s not even a pilot. You’re definitely better than her.”

“Then Penny?” Zoe shook her head with an uncharacteristic giggle. She blamed it on the sleepless nights and the passing storm. “Not so sure about that. She gives you beer.”

“A close second then.”

She snorted. Jake winked.

They didn’t argue it any further. Perhaps the only time in their history that she had let him call her second best without Zoe really minding all that much.

And as the storm moved off into the distance, the pair found themselves enjoying each other’s company on the stuffy, common room couch more than they ever thought possible. Zoe liked that he was warm; the hothead took the nickname a little too literally, she thought, and seemed to radiate heat no matter what he was wearing. She also liked to listen to the steady beat of his heart. It played a different rhythm than the rain outside. One that was somehow more soothing to her in the darkness. And she liked the way that his hand seemed to subconsciously smooth circles on her leg.

Maybe, she thought in a lucid state, she just liked Jake.

Before she could dwell on that thought, he nudged her in the side.

“Hm?”

“The storms past,” he told her.

She didn’t see why that mattered all that much. “And?”

“You can’t fall asleep here,” he whispered. She realized that he was right and pried her eyes open—not having realized she closed them in the first place—to find him looking at her with soft eyes and an even softer smile. “Stitch will dump a bucket of water on you if he finds you in the morning.”

“He wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t he?”

Ugh. He definitely would.

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered. “I’m coming.”

“I’ve heard that before,” he laughed.

Zoe waved him off as Jake sat up. He was careful not to give her an accidental elbow to the face, and while she pawed at her heavy eyes, he put his bowl into the sink. He returned a moment later to pry her hands away from her eyes. She swore his skin was burning rings around her wrists.

“Don’t make me carry you to your room,” he said, fixing her with a mischievous look.

She batted his hand away, actually afraid that he might.

When Zoe stood, Jake was right there; firm chest pressed into hers, head tilted down as hers was tilted up, eyes gentle as they roved over her exhausted features. She had been thankful for the darkness a lot tonight; it hid her blushes and her screams and her worried looks. But right now, as they stood inches apart, Zoe wished it was a little bit brighter inside so that she might catch a glimpse of what he was thinking.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

She licked her lips, poked her cheek with her tongue, and finally decided the best thing to say was the easiest. “Thanks for… being a friend. This helped a lot.”

Something indiscernible muddled his face.

“Yeah, of course. Anything for a, uh, you know… friend,” he said, as if it had been the obvious thing to do, but his voice cracked a little at the end, and his eyes were a little too wide for him to blame it on sleep. Noticing, he cleared his throat. “Now seriously, come on, let’s get you to bed before it starts storming again.”

He made for the door.

Zoe frowned at the sudden absence of his warmth, not having even noticed how much she had been leaning towards him until he was gone. Her body almost ached at the loss; a reminder that, no matter how many times she promised herself that she was over him, there were some memories that would forever be ingrained into her muscles.

Then, she thought about what he said.

Gaze nervously flickering outside, her frown deepened, as she quickly followed.

“But… it’s not going to, though, right?”

* taglist (thanks for asking!) @luckyladycreator2 @rosiahills22 @the-winter-marvel33 @chaoticassidy @ashleyzhu0514 @fulla02 @puriini

#jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin x oc #hangman imagine #hangman x oc #top gun maverick #top gun maverick imagine #fluff #more to come #i tried?

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