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#so if my game would stop crashing that would be great

piratecaptainscaptainpirates · 6 months

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Seen some posts about how it's a good idea to watch OFMD with non-fandom people and see what they think. Watched the first three eps with my parents and they had some great takes

My mom was righteously upset that Stede isn't wearing any fun outfits. "He must be so sad!"

She was also really sad that Ed crashed a wedding. "It didn't even look like a fun wedding," I said. "Yeah," she goes, "but what if that happened at my wedding? :((("

My dad said he didn't like the first episode and seemed really anxious the whole time. Upon prompting, it's because he's the biggest Lucius/Pete fan on earth and he was just upset Lucius wasn't there. "No wonder Pete was so grumpy!"

The wedding cake toppers actually made my mom cry. We had to pause the episode.

When Lucius showed up my dad literally jumped out of his chair like he was watching a sports game. I had to spoil them getting married because he would not stop asking me if they get married this season.

The biggest and most surprising thing is how much they, two old straight people, really loved the reunion mermaid scene. I'd been prepared for them to think it was too weird since it is so unapologetically sweet and camp and just queer. They fucking loved it and wouldn't stop talking about it. Just proves that forcing queer content to be sanitized "for the straights" is a pure nonsense.

#ofmd #our flag means death

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moodriingz · 4 months

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Into Your Room | L. Hughes

Summary | Luke breaks up with the reader and they're both miserable

Pairing | Luke Hughes x reader, Jack Hughes x platonic! reader, Ethan Edwards x platonic! reader

Warning | Breakups ? and maybe three curse words ? that's about it!

Author's Note | This is my first post! I'm so excited because I love this song and all I could think about for a couple of days was this scenario. Please send requests and what you think!

Masterlist

You and Luke started dating while he was at the University of Michigan. Sure, you knew when He went to play for the Devils long-distance would be difficult because of your classes and his practices and games but you wanted to try. So it came as a shock when Luke broke up with you halfway through the summer after his NHL Debut.

“Y/N I really think we need to take a breather,” said Luke while you were both watching the sunset on the beach of the lake house.

“What?” You asked. It felt like your world came crashing down out of nowhere. You guys had barely been together a year. But you were inseparable at school and during the summers.

“Yeah, I just need to focus on hockey right now and you have your classes. I just don’t think it’s going to work out,” Luke rambled.

“But I want to make it work. I told you that before you left for New Jersey,”

“I don’t want to be held back because of some relationship,” Luke said and you stayed quiet. Your heart was shattering and he was stomping all over it.

“Ok, I’ll get all of my stuff and go back home. No point in wasting any time I guess,” You said with blurry eyes.

You packed up your bag and got ready to go. You saw Jack on the way out and gave him a hug goodbye.

“I don’t know what He’s thinking. I’m sure He’ll come around. It'll all work out,” Jack said into your hair even though it felt like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.

“It’s fine Jack, just take care of him for me,” you said and left the house and got in your car without looking back at one of your favorite places in the world.

I will run after your moving car

And I will follow you

You're my northern star

Luke was miserable for the rest of the summer. He didn’t want to admit it but he was lost without you. He wished he stopped your car as you left. He regretted everything he said. He was just scared you would find someone better than him at school now that he wasn't there.

Luke told himself that once the season started he wouldn’t have time to think about how much he missed you. Boy was he wrong.

He stalked your Instagram in his free time. He was sure he was almost always the first viewer of any story you posted and had to force himself to ignore your profile picture anytime it came up when he opened the app.

You looked like you hadn’t missed a beat once you got back to school. Always posting when you’d go out with friends or when you’d study at your favorite coffee shop.

You both had so many great memories there anytime you’d post your coffee order he could basically hear the espresso machines and the smell of coffee. He'd remember your laughter from when he had gotten foam on his top lip. Or the time you were so nervous for finals and wouldn’t look up from your computer until he got you a refill of your coffee. Your smile was so bright from such a small gesture he knew he had to do anything he could to see it.

Except he did the opposite. His last memory of you was full of tears as he watched your car pull away. He didn’t know what to do. Luke was a mess while you seemed fine. How could he ever convince you to take him back?

You don't know how much I need you

Yeah, I feel the weight

It's crushing me

You were a mess coming back to school. You missed Luke more than you thought you would. The two of you spent so much time together and when you couldn’t be with each other you would text every chance you’d get.

You missed his goofy smile and curly hair. Luke Hughes was everywhere. The memory of him was in the Library where you would have study dates, He was in your favorite bar where he couldn’t take his eyes off of you all night, He was in your classes where you would sit together and whisper random things back and forth. He was everywhere except where you needed him to be. With you.

Your friends always dragged you out even when all you wanted to do was stay in and watch your favorite TV show and wallow. They always made sure to take good photos so you could post “to make Luke know what he’s missing” they’d always say.

They basically had a schedule set of when to study with you or get coffee. You didn’t mean to make them watch over you as much as you did, but you couldn’t help how much you needed Luke.

Finally one night You convinced them that you were too busy with homework to hang out when really you were going to watch the New Jersey Devils season opener. Ethan Edwards saw right through your lies about studying because he knew you liked to finish most of your work at the beginning of the week.

He insisted on watching the game with you and you let him because he was the only one who remotely knew what you were feeling. You both watched pregame, and when the commentators showed Luke all you could notice were his eyebags and how tired he looked. Your heart shattered all over again.

You watched him get his first assist of the season and your heart clenched. If you were still together he would’ve called you after the game and told you all about it. Now you just felt like a spectator while he was all you could think about. Ethan turned to you and noticed how upset you were with tears threatening to spill over. He was tired of seeing his friends destroy themselves.

So, maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

No, I can't do without you

Jack couldn’t take Luke’s self-pity anymore. All he would do was look at his phone and play hockey. Jack could tell it was affecting Luke more than he was letting on. His eyes were almost always bloodshot and he looked like he was moving through the motions at practice.

Luke was a shell of his former self and Jack knew he had to do something. He texted Ethan because he knew that besides Luke that’s who you would talk to the most. They both started plotting to get you back together. The Devils had a game against the Red Wings right before Thanksgiving and knew there had to be some way to get you there.

Ethan practically begged on his knees for you to come to the game. He told you he was gifted the tickets and would feel horrible to not go. Everyone else had already left for Thanksgiving, leaving you as his only option.

You weren’t stupid. You knew the game was against the Devils. You had the date marked in your planner as when you would have seen Luke if you were still together. You both looked forward to the game because it was the first time you would’ve seen him play in the NHL and then you would've gone to his parent’s lake house for Thanksgiving the next day. At least that's what was supposed to happen.

You only agreed to Ethan because you felt bad no one else could go. Ethan promised no funny business, and you could leave the game the second the final buzzer went off. It felt safe and you could see Jack. You missed Luke, but you were also close with Jack. It was something Luke loved about you, how great you got along with his brothers.

Luke had no idea about the plan Jack and Ethan were brewing. He was especially miserable because he knew if he didn’t mess up the best thing in his life several months ago, you would be at the game cheering him on. He was in hell beating himself over it. All he wanted was to see you in the Jersey he gave you right before his NHL debut.

Ethan came and picked you up all giddy when he noticed you were wearing a Hughes 43 jersey.

“What? It’s the only Devils gear I have, and I’m sure as hell not going to cheer for them in a Red Wings jersey,” You said without taking a breath.

“I wasn’t even going to say anything.”

You two find your seats and you realize how close to the ice it is. You’re on the Devils side facing the bench a couple rows up from the ice. Luke is definitely going to see you because of your proximity.

“If you had told me how close we were going to be I definitely would’ve worn-” You said before getting cut off.

“Don’t even finish that sentence we’re rooting for my team tonight,” Ethan said talking over the music.

The Devils start coming out for warm up and it doesn’t take Luke more than two seconds to see you. You both lock eyes and don’t look away. He notices you’re in the jersey he gave you, and his heart flutters with hope. He just stands there looking at you until Nico pushes him to tell him has to get ready for the game. You, however, look like a deer in headlights and your heart stops. You hadn’t seen Luke since the summer. Tears start to gather in your eyes and you know you have to leave.

“Ethan I can’t do this. I can’t be here,” You say with tears starting to fall.

“Please you promised me plus he can’t even do anything he’s on the ice,” Ethan says trying to convince you knowing it won’t work.

You start to gather your things when Luke notices. He rushes across the ice and knocks on the glass to get your attention. You instantly regret looking his way, but his eyes look desperate and excited your heart flutters the tiniest bit.

You read his mouth as he begs you to stay. You just look at him and Ethan debating what to do. You decide to stay and see what happens. Ethan's right he can’t do anything while he’s on the ice, right?

I'm throwing stones at your window

To get you to notice me

Don't make me stand outside, in the pouring rain

With a freshly ripped human heart from my rib cage

And a boom-box

How pathetic, babe

It was a hard loss for the Devils, but the end of the game meant you could finally leave. Ethan was right, Luke didn’t bother you for the rest of the game besides constantly looking at you when he wasn’t on the ice or there was a faceoff right in front of your seats.

As you and Ethan are getting ready to leave you get a text.

From moosey

please don’t leave

i really want to talk

You showed Ethan and he looked at you bewildered.

“You never changed his name?”

“I never had the heart,” You say looking back down at the texts. The three bubbles show up and disappear over and over again.

“I think you should go. What's the worst that could happen, right?” Ethan asks.

“I don’t know he can rip my heart out all over again and tell me off for coming to his game,” You say, swaying on your toes to your heels.

“He won’t do that trust me,” You don’t even have the energy to ask Ethan as your anxiousness bubbles up to your throat.

To moosey

where can we meet?

From moosey

come down to the locker room i can tell security you and ethan are coming

To moosey

Luke has to stop himself from running to you when you get to the locker room. He wants to pick you up and spin you around like he used to do after his Michigan games. Instead, he walks up to you and says a simple hi.

“What did you want to talk about?” You whisper nervous about what he has to say.

“Us.” Your breath stops ready for him to tell you off for coming.

“I fucked up ending our relationship,” He says with his eyes turning red.

“Luke, why now? I was ready to fight for us but you dismissed me like I was nothing to you.”

“Because I was scared,” He admits. “I was scared you’d find someone who’d be able to give you more attention than I could. And that’s what you deserve, but God I can’t be without you. You’re the opposite of nothing, you’re my everything and I’m so lost without you. The last couple of months have been absolute hell.”

“You should’ve talked to me. I would’ve told you there’s no one better for me than you. The last couple of months have wrecked me.” You tell him.

So, don't turn away

You must know how much I need you, need you

Yeah, I can feel your pain

I hate to think how bad I treated you

But I know a place

Where the darkness can't reach us

“Please forgive me. Please can we just forget this all happened?” Luke begs you.

You just nod and launch yourself into his arms for a kiss. He deepens it by holding you in by your hair. Your heart flutters and you never want this moment to end.

“Would it be too much to ask you to spend Thanksgiving with us? I just don’t want to spend any more time away from you. But I get it-,” Luke asks nervously before you cut him off.

“No I’d love to come, I miss everybody.”

“Did I miss it? Did our plan work?” Jack comes into the hallway shouting excitedly.

“What plan?” Luke asks Ethan and Jack.

“You didn’t,” You say.

“Oh but we did, who do you think gave me the tickets?” said Ethan mischievously.

“Well I guess your plan did work, good job boys,” you say with a blush on your cheeks.

Luke kisses your cheek and tells Jack you are spending Thanksgiving with the family and you won't be going anywhere anytime soon. You finally feel like you’re back where you belong. While Luke feels the relief of finally having his world back.

No, I can't do without you, baby

Maybe, take me into your room

Without you, my soul is eternally doomed

You're the center of this universe

My sorry ass revolves around you

You— And again

#luke hughes x reader #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey #nj devils #new jersey devils #luke hughes #hughes brothers #nhl writing #nhl fluff #nhl x reader #luke hughes oneshot

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theemporium · 1 year

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okaaaaaaaaaaay i just the new dialogue prompts so prompt no. 1 with sirius but please feed us with a lovesick fool!sirius <33333

1.”Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what?”

Sirius Black loved to do anything that would piss his mother off and take her a step closer to an early grave.

Whether it was proudly sitting amongst those who weren’t purebloods or part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, or wearing his house colours with pride despite the stain it left on the Black name. Whether it was embracing muggle culture, or picking on every little fight he could when he stayed under her roof.

Sirius liked to push her buttons. He liked to poke the bear and he liked watching that vein on her forehead look as though it was seconds away from exploding. In fact, it had been another one of her fancy dinners that he attended on a whim in hopes to find a way to piss her off.

What Sirius hadn’t been expecting was to meet you. And what he certainly wasn’t expecting was to fall head over heels for the girl his mother would ship him off with before he could even blink.

He had tried to fight his feelings for as long as he could. He reminded himself that you were probably a pureblood elitist like the others in that room, that you were a Slytherin and you probably turned your nose down at people who he considered his closest friends.

But then he started noticing you around Hogwarts and quickly realised that wasn’t the case. And it became a quick—and borderline pathetic game—for Sirius to find any excuse to be near you, to be on your radar.

He made jokes whenever he knew you were in the room and eagerly sought out your reaction to see if you laughed. He would make funny comments in classes you shared together to see if you’d lift your head from your textbook to notice him. He would throw peas at you during dinner to see if you would turn around to find him in the chaos of the Great Hall.

His most recent attempt wasn’t even meant to be anything grand. Just a simple question he made up so he would have an excuse to walk over to you during potions and talk to you.

But then Snape had made a point of kicking his bookbag in Sirius’ path and the wizard didn’t have enough time to catch the movement before he was stumbling forward, crashing down on a table full of potion bottles that smashed around him.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Sirius blinked, the blaring lights above slowly being covered by your face as you stared down at him with a concerned expression, eyes glancing over him to make sure there were no physical injuries.

There was a slightly bitter, citrus-like taste on his lips that he didn’t have a chance to question before he was blurting out the first thought that came to his head when he saw your face in his line of vision.

“You are really pretty!”

You paused, glancing down at the boy with a slightly surprised expression. “What?”

“Like, genuinely one of the fittest witches I have ever seen in my life,” he kept going, unable to stop himself. “Maybe even the fittest.”

“Thank you?” you said, a little unsure by the bold statement.

“I think you might actually be the girl of my dreams but you make me nervous to talk to you and I have never had that with a girl before,” he told you, his eyes widening a little at just how easily that confession slipped from his lips.

Sirius quickly scrambled to sit up, not caring about his soaked uniform or the mess around him as he glanced down at the bottles smashed on the floor. His eyes landed on a certain label and he tried not to let out a string of curse words.

Of course out of all the potions he could have possibly accidentally consumed, it had to be a truth potion.

“You feeling okay there, Black?” you asked cautiously.

“I like the way you say my name!” Sirius blurted out before slapping a hand over his mouth. “I—uh, pretend I didn’t say…anything that I just said in the last few minutes.”

However, to his surprise, you smiled and let out a small laugh. “Anything else you like?”

“You!” Sirius said confidently, though his face and ears burned as red as his house tie. “I…fuck. Okay, maybe I have a crush on you! So what? You’re pretty and smart and you make my heart feel funny.”

“I make your heart feel funny,” you repeated, sounding amused by his confession.

“Yeah, like a good funny,” Sirius continued even if his hands were clenched into fists at his side, nails digging into his sweaty palms. “Makes me wanna kiss you.”

You raised your brows. “Yeah?”

Sirius contemplated if a sinkhole swallowing him up would be too far-fetched to occur right now. “Yeah.”

“Well, I don’t need a potion to tell you I wanna kiss you too, Black.”

His eyes widened. “You do?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think,” you told him with a grin. “But it’s cute.”

Sirius grinned back at you. “So, if I asked you out on a date, you’d say yes?”

“Ask me, Black, and then you’ll see.”

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thisapplepielife · 5 months

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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Sleeping with Spiders

Prompt Day 12: Only One Bed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: College AU, Meet-Cute, Only One Bed, First Kiss

"I think you're in my bed," a voice says, and Steve looks up from the class schedule he's studying while he lounges on his new dorm room bed.

There's a long-haired guy standing in his doorway.

“Uh, what?” Steve asks, staring at this guy.

Steve's room is a single, so this is definitely his bed. It's the only one in the room, and surely this guy can see that. It’s kinda hard to miss. The guy waves a paper at him, and steps inside, dropping his bags to the floor with a thud. He hands the paper to Steve, and Steve skims it, and sure enough, this is his room assignment, too.

Steve fetches the same paper with his name on it, and hands it over. Same room.

"They've fucked up," Steve says, comparing them, seeing the guy’s name at the top, “Edward.”

"Eddie,” he corrects, then adds, “and you don't say…”

“Steve,” Steve offers.

“They've definitely fucked up, Steve.”

They probably need to tell their RA, so this can get fixed.

Keith, the RA, is spectacularly unhelpful. His only advice was to wait until Monday to take it up with the housing department. It’s Friday night. Or, there’s an open bed in room 704, he offered. They both go look into 704 and there’s a shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lip, stomping around like he’s mad at the world. They both look at each other. Hard pass.

Steve thinks taking their chances with each other has to be better than whatever that situation would be, so he nods his head back towards their double-assigned room.

They both sit on the bed. They can make this work for the weekend.

“I can crash on the floor,” Eddie says, “since you’ve already put on all your bedding.”

Steve nods, “Maybe we can get an air mattress?”

“I’m not buying an air mattress for three nights, rich boy,” Eddie says, teasing, but Steve can tell he’s serious. "Floor's fine."

And the first night does go fine, and they spend Saturday hanging out in this single room with two occupants. Eddie's fun, Steve likes him, even if they are nothing alike.

Eddie has a guitar, so he tries to teach Steve to play, but finally gives up once he realizes it's a losing game. But Eddie plays, and their floormates stop by the door Eddie propped open.

Steve wouldn't have thought to do that, but they're meeting people, even if none of them look like anyone Eddie would want to be friends with.

"I have a band, back home. They're younger than me, so I promised my Uncle I'd at least try college, while I wait for them to graduate."

Steve nods, "That's cool."

"I'm in the music program," Eddie adds.

Steve points to himself, "Business."

"Good, that's good. That means I can call on you to be the money man, when we get rich and famous."

Steve laughs, "Sure, you do that."

That night, Steve offers to switch bed for floor, but Eddie refuses. Which was fine until Steve bolts upright, startled awake.

"Spider! On my face!" Eddie screams, and someone next door bangs on the wall. Great. This asshole is going to make his neighbors hate him before he gets gone to the right room on Monday.

"I'm coming up!" Eddie says.

"You're not coming up!" Steve hisses back.

"It's my bed!"

"I think not!"

"You can share, or you can sleep with the spiders!"

This bed is a single, a twin XL, whatever that is. There's not room for two guys in it, no way. At least not two near strangers. Steve likes Eddie, and wouldn’t be opposed to a little company from him, not at all. And Steve doesn’t need dinner first, not really, but he also doesn’t just crawl in bed to actually sleep with random dudes. No way.

But he scoots towards the wall, trying to make room for Eddie.

Steve wakes up in the morning, and Eddie has a leg slung over his thighs, teetering on the edge of the bed. Steve puts a hand on Eddie's back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck.

Eddie leans into the touch, and Steve scratches his blunt nails against the thin cotton of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s kinda nice being close to someone, even if they’re a random stranger that’s just stuck in your room, with nowhere else to go.

Steve feels when Eddie wakes up, because he tenses.

“Shit. Sorry,” Eddie says, but there really isn’t much room to escape.

Steve rubs his back, “It’s fine. Honest.”

Eddie takes him for his word, and slings his arm across Steve’s bare chest. Steve likes it. He’s probably digging himself a hole here.

What else is new?

Eddie strokes his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, before moving down to the hair leading into his shorts. That's. That's interesting. He's interested in that. Definitely.

Steve rolls onto his side, scooting towards the wall to make more room, and Eddie follows. Steve reaches forward and tucks Eddie's wild morning hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face.

"This okay?" Steve asks.

Eddie nods, so Steve leans forward to kiss him. Eddie meets him, and Steve's loving this.

Eddie kisses him like it's all he wants to do in the world, and Steve clings to him, breathing hard and heavy into his mouth. He hopes his breath isn't terrible, but if it's, neither of them seem to care.

He keeps kissing him, touching him and thinks this room mistake was the best case scenario, now.

Eddie rolls on top of him.

Steve suddenly has a thought, "Was there even a spider?"

Eddie cackles, "No."

Later, Steve poses a question, "Maybe we just don't tell anyone we were both assigned here?"

"Only if you think we can sneak a double bed in here," Eddie says, grinning.

Steve thinks that's totally doable. Robin will happily create a diversion for that to happen.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #only one bed #college au #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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cyber-clown · 11 months

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zubat is one of my favourite pokémon and, because it is one of my favourite pokémon, i've used it in every single generation i've played where it's available. this has led me to notice that you can kind of use zubat to track game freak's evolving design ethos with the pokémon series allll the way from gen 1 through to gen 9.

so if you don't know, zubat is a funny poison/flying bat pokémon. you can usually get it pretty early on in caves, usually sometime around the first gym. in gen 1 this is mt moon, gen 3 gives you zubats in granite cave right around the (mostly optional btw???) 2nd gym, gen 4 gives you them the moment you get to jubilife city, etc. it evolves into golbat at level 22, which doubles zubat's stats and lets it learn screech. golbat is a funny guy and i like him. don't know why they made him grow eyes though.

point is, they're common and you get them early, so it's a pokémon that is very easy to slot into your team as a decent flying type with better utility and defenses (being a poison type) than your average earlygame bird shitter. they're also vaguely menacing if you're insane i guess so they're evil team fodder. ok. we know what zubat is now.

GEN 1: in gen 1, zubat's design is insane. early pokémon games are shocking well put together - for the bad rep they sometimes get for having a handful of prominent glitches, it's actually a testiment to the games that they just keep trucking through these insane edge cases rather than crashing. unfortunately, the design itself is... primitive. they had a smash hit but definitely hadn't fully found their footing. let's look at zubat's moveset.

oh god! so, you would think this is a case of some kind of "first stage evolution syndrome" where zubat has a terrible, limited movepool that gets fixed when it evolves. gen 1 REALLY likes this gimmick: just off the top of my head this is the exact deal of abra and magikarp. unfortunately, no. the only damaging moves zubat learns before it evolves are leech life, a 20 base power (THIS IS LOW) move of a relatively weak offensive type, and bite. bite is fine. bite will hit most types except rock and ghost, and its power is fine. other than that, it just learns supersonic and a slightly less terrible version of supersonic.

then the insane thing: it learns wing attack at level 28. golbat learns it at level 32. it evolves at level 22. this creates an interesting dichotomy where on one hand you REALLY want to evolve zubat to golbat, given that it literally doubles its base stat total when evolving, but on the other that means you'll be waiting a full 10 levels from evolving to learn its only STAB move (in pokémon, pokémon get a 1.5x multipler to a move's damage if its the same type as that pokémon). said move only having 35 power. gen 1 is strange. i think this really shows the design philosophy of gen 1: everything is new, most things are weak, the balance is all over the place, you have to purposefully stop your funny bat from evolving for 6 levels just for it to learn a terrible flying type move that it can use for coverage. every other move it learns is either normal type or has <= 40 power. why.

GEN 2: gen 2 is the generation of "ok that was pretty good but had some pretty major flaws. let's try to fix them." gen 2 is kind of defined by how closely tied it is to gen 1. zubat is a great example of this. first of all the obvious thing: zubat gets a new evolution! if your golbat has high friendship and levels up, it will evolve into crobat. crobat gives the line about a hundred more stats (mostly to speed, with everything else getting a little peppering) and is maybe the funniest of all guys, his design being both cute, silly, and cool is maybe why i like the zubat line so much

so what changes for zubat and its family in gen 2? three things of note! 1. more TMs to learn, giving it more tools to play with, including the new steel type move steel wing. 2. bite has been changed to a dark type move, giving the noble zubat more type coverage including the ability to hit ghost types and psychic types (who are normally strong against poison types) for double damage. 3. wing attack's power has been increased to 60 (almost doubled!) and it's level to be learnt lowered to... 27. 1 level!

(from this point forward i'm not going to screenshot the TM learnset. i'll try to keep describing them, though)

also, the level requirement for bite has been moved to level 12, and it learns mean look at... level 36. ok so, yeah, not fixing the pokémon, but definitely some improvements here. you could actually reasonably recommend zubat to a friend or family member now if they particularly like its silly funny design

GEN 3: it's a new generation... literally. pokémon is now in FULL COLOUR and SYNTHESIZED SOUND on the GAMEBOY ADVANCE. pokémon is now fully establishing itself not just as a couple games and spinoffs, but a full on series that will ostensibly stick around between generations of games, generations of consoles, even generations of people.

so, yeah. this ain't your daddy's pokémon, he played pokémon red as a 7 year old but he's a full blown 13 year old now... much too cool to play these baby games. ...oh shit wait, every pokémon has an ability now? damn, nevermind, this rules! that's what i assume game companies think people will think when they do Big Spin Ups for a New Generation. i don't know if it DID convince a generation of millenium tweens that funny animal game is still cool, but the changes are appreciated anyway. steven stone is hot! i don't have anywhere else to say that. anyway, how did zubat change?

our friend zubat gets lots of changes to keep up with the crowd now. bite has been moved back up to level 16, but zubat now gets astonish - a decent ghost type move that can flinch opponents, air cutter (this used to be TM only) - a slightly weaker and less accurate flying type move than wing attack, but one with an increased critical hit ratio AND it can hit multiple opponents in new-fangled double battles, and poison fang - finally allowing zubat to unlock its poison type STAB... if you either don't let your zubat evolve for 19 levels or, more realistically, teach it to your crobat at level 49... ouch! but, the biggest of them all: your zubat can now learn wing attack before it evolves! ...1 level before it evolves, but before it evolves!

in addition, zubat's family got a new ability - inner focus: this lets them not get flinched. not that out there, but it's a welcome change! the line also gets a few more TMs unlocked, including coverage options like shadow ball, and the extremely powerful sludge bomb. you can really, finally, genuinely use zubat now! it's actually okay! it being a friendship-evolved pokémon is also ideal for one you pick up early game - you can usually evolve your zubat around the early level 30s, giving it a big stat boost earlier than a lot of other pokémon.

GEN 4: gen 4 is strange. it's a huge shift in the series, but it's also actually pretty similar to gen 3. it stays pretty true to the series roots, but also moves the ball in a way that would keep going and eventually mark what is effectively an entire change in identity for pokémon. steven stone is in heartgold and soul silver (yay!). gen 4 also cements gen 3 as the only generation of pokémon ever (so far) to be the only one on its console.

we're making good progress here! wing attack can be learned even earlier, at level 17, meaning you should get it just in time for the grass type gym leader, bite has been reverted to being learned at level 13, and air cutter / poison fang have had the time you need to hold a zubat before they can be learned significantly turned down. if you do happen to hold your zubat until level 41, poison fang's spot has been usurped by air slash, a strong special move (gen 4 split all moves into physical and special, where before they were split between the attack / special attack stats by type) that has a 30% chance of flinching an opponent. zubat's physical stats may be better than its special stats, but only by a little bit, so this is a welcome option! zubat also gets a couple more good TMs, like U-Turn, a really strong move that lets zubat deal some damage and then swap with a teammate to hopefully avoid taking retaliation! anyway that's it really, just little steps!

GEN 5: here it is, the big one… the one that changed it all… just joking! infact, zubat didn't get a single move change in Pokémon Black and White, as it wasn't available to catch at all in that game! instead, it was replaced by the spiritual successors woobat and swoobat, cute fluffy psychic / flying types with little heart shaped noses - they even keep the theme of a closed pair of eyes opening up when evolved! i like swoobat's terrible, fleshy heart tail, too!

anyway, zubat was revived in Pokémon Black 2 and White 2, whereupon it did actually receive a moveset update. it's not a very big one, but it's appreciated!

so, the pre-evolution options of astonish, bite, and wing attack have been moved a little further back, while players who wait a little bit are now able to learn the moves swift (a normal type move that never misses), and acrobatics (a move that has its damage doubled if your pokémon doesn't hold an item). cool stuff! air cutter, poison fang, and air slash have all been moved back a little bit. maybe this could be to disincentivise holding a pokémon that can evolve to learn moves, since this puts it much more in line with crobat:

who knows? anyway! the other noticeable changes are the additions of a couple more TMs like venoshock (all TMs being infinite use now, so you don't have to worry about wasting a TM anymore!), a poison type move that doubles in damage if the target is poisoned (finally, more love for zubat's poison type!) and the hidden ability of infiltrator.

what an unhelpful piece of flavour text! infiltrator is an ability that lets zubat ignore the effects of "barrier" type moves, which are moves that provide resistance or immunity to certain effects (such as physical damage, status effects, and debuffs). later on, this will be buffed to let zubats with infiltrator hit through substitutes, and even later will be buffed again to reduce wild encounters!

GEN 6: here's the real big one. gen 5 marked a distinct change in direction for pokémon as a series: a grander story, bold new characters, and a focus more on a journey that felt more like a hero's quest to prove themselves, rather than some random kid's uphill battle to get stronger. gen 6 took the new generation and made some bold decisions: now we have 3D models, and crazy plotlines, and fully arranged streamed music, and... much easier gameplay! well, easy is not the right word. pokemon games have always been kid friendly - but later games definitely try their best to streamline the experience. it feels a lot more like a power fantasy of a rise to glory, where previous games distinctly... did not. is this good or bad? well, it's all just taste! we all have our taste.

zubat received its major changes, again, in the second set of games of this generation: omega ruby and alpha sapphire. a step back to hoenn, including our good friend zubat!

woah! can you believe this is even the same friend zubat we met all the way back in 1996? i'm so proud of him... well, what major changes are there? here's an easy two: venoshock is now a move zubat learns naturally, and almost every move has been substantially reduced in level up requirement! bite at level 11? wing attack at level 13? it feels like just yesterday we had to fight tooth and nail to keep bite at level 13! poison fang down by 12 levels to level 25, and so on. the big one here is that air cutter is now a move you can learn before even evolving zubat, giving you another flying type option! what could be awaiting us next, in the sunny alola region?

GEN 7: i like gen 7 :) i also don't know what preamble to give here. well, other than: gen 6 began the trend of adding a new "gimmick" every generation. these stick around for one generation, can only be used once per game, and provide some Big Flashy Effect. mega evolution was gen 6's, but that was restricted to a few specific pokémon (mainly fan favourites, no love for great pokémon like crobat... grr...) but gen 7 changed this: now any pokémon can use a Z-Power!!! once per game, a single move can be transformed into a powerful Z-Move, that does huge damage. this means our friend zubat can join the show. will it use a poison Z-Move, or a flying Z-Move, or maybe a random coverage move, like ghost or steel?

um... what's going on here? zubat's lost leech life! well, look again. the iconic Zubat Move is still in its learnset, but it's now been QUADRUPLED in to 80 power, so it's been moved up and replaced with absorb as zubat's starting move. absorb is still stuck at 20 power. poor absorb. that's probably what it gets for being cousins with mega drain AND giga drain. crobat gets to learn cross poison on evolve now, a powerful poison type move that has an increased critical hit rate AND a chance to poison. other than these, zubat's learnset has not changed in any noticeable way. i guess that's a sign game freak has settled on a moveset to stay for our friend zubat!

GEN 8:

what on earth happened here? where is zubat's iconic wing attack? leech life at level 55? well, generation 8, you see, represents a big shakeup for the pokémon series. the series has OFFICIALLY jumped from handhelds to the home console, and so naturally that leads to a very different design philosophy - including the removal of lots of moves from the game entirely, and the barring of some pokémon from entry to the region! zubat gets to stay, though, and its reward is an entirely retooled moveset. what can we make of this?

well, first of all, supersonic has been recognised as an Iconic Zubat Move after 20 years of proud service, being officially made a move zubat gets right out of the egg. it still sucks, but that's cool! wing attack and bite have been replaced with poison fang, retooling zubat to put the early focus on its poison typing: to this day zubat and its family are actually the only poison / flying type pokémon! air cutter has been pushed back above the "evolve threshold", where it joins a bunch of other iconic Zubat Moves. bite and leech life now languish, as moves that probably nobody will ever actually hold their zubat to learn, given it's only a couple extra levels for golbat / crobat to learn them. speaking of crobat, it's worth mentioning...

crobat has a whole lot of tools to work with now! it's very clear they really wanted to play with crobat's unique role as a poison / flying type here by focusing a lot more on its Poisonous Traits - toxic, cross poison, and venoshock are all very fun tools you can play with that crobat gets access to with ease. what a treat! the number of TMs crobat can learn is also huge, with plenty of coverage across a bunch of types. now for gen 9!

GEN 9:

oh zubat! you should have known that DUI would give you consequences. well, yes. this is zubat's journey so far. but i think that i've proven my point - you can distinctly see a shift from the early game pokémon design philosophy to newer games.

personally, i would describe this as going from the games being an "uphill battle to prove yourself" to a "journey across the land with your favourites". it's clear that, over time, there have been attempts to try and make a lot of pokémon more viable, so that if zubat is your favourite too you can pick it up and have it be useful almost right away, rather than its earlier role as a pokémon that takes a long time to get going but eventually gets tools that make it a lot more usable. i think this shows pokémon's shift to being more about the pokémon themselves rather than the journey, which is a safe decision that's probably made because every pokémon is somebody's favourite.

this has no real point by the way - i personally don't actually mind the newer direction of pokémon games (aside from the EXP share always being on...) and have enjoyed plenty of relatively modern pokémon games a lot - i really rememeber loving pokémon moon when it came out! but i do also enjoy the different "vibe" and experience of older pokémon games, and i think sometimes the best way to actually describe the differences is to just lay out them out, plain to see.

anyway, i hope you enjoyed and, next time you're in a dark cave, consider holding off on the repels. you might just meet your new best friend forever!

#pokemon #pokémon #can you tell i'm autistic #also i didnt add a keep reading to this because i thought itd be funny #do you love the color of the zubat #zubat #golbat #crobat

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celestoria · 10 months

Text

Cupid’s Game

A/n: Ahhhh, my first request. Don’t worry anon I actually found this very fun to write about that i immediately made a rough draft for the moment i read the ask.

Tags: porn with plot, dirty thoughts, penetration, oral (f), fingering, penetration, implied voice fetish, against the wall, overstimulation, hickeys

Words: 1.4k

Do not interact if you are 16 or below (17+)

The little glances you give whenever Dan Heng would enter the room, the faint smile he has when you tell him good night, and the endless hours you two would spend together without a single regard for the outside world. March has witnessed it all.

It’s still a shame despite the blatantly obvious chemistry between you and Dan Heng, neither had enough courage to make a move. To March, she believes that there is no need for such complications. She had enough of this endless pining and decided to take matters into her own hands.

“Hey, why don’t we play a game of truth or dare,” she said, cutting the silence in her room as you helped her sort out her pictures.

Dan Heng hummed. “It would be a great way to entertain us since we’ve been here for a while,” he commented. You shared the same sentiments as him. There’s no harm in peaceful quality time, however, the air feels hushed and out of character considering you’re in March’s room.

You agreed. March let out a giddy squeal and started the game. After several rounds, she got a little bold as she dared you to sit on Dan Heng’s lap for the entire game.

Though you nonchalantly accepted her dare, deep down you felt like you wanted to burst. You’ve had your fair share of spending time with each other such as walking around in a city you’ve never been to before or quietly reading together in the archives. But this was a whole new level of “closeness” you’re not sure you're ready for.

You occasionally glanced back at Dan Heng to see how well he’s been holding since both of you got stuck in this situation. Oftentimes you found his cold, reserved demeanor quite impossible to read, but seeing him up close it’s pretty clear he’s feeling the same way as you.

Neither of you wanted to be caught up in such a scene but you can’t say you hate it too.

Time flew by in a flash, and eventually, the game had to come to an end with all the polaroids finally sorted out in March’s albums. That was a relief. One minute more and you were sure you could never face Dan Heng for at least a week.

For Dan Heng, you could say the same...but for other reasons.

It was so hard to get his mind out of the gutter with you sitting on his lap while you wore that little skirt of yours. Your ass was pressed on his dick for such a long time, he was sure his dick hardened under his pants. He just hoped you didn’t notice it.

Debauched thoughts filled his mind throughout the whole game. He knew it was wrong but how can he stop when he’s been wanting you for all this time?

You left March’s room and in a flurry, Dan Heng grabbed you by the wrist and led you to the archives.

“Dan Heng, what are you-“ He pinned you up against the wall and your lips crashed together. His fingers intertwined within your hair and pulled you closer for a kiss frenzied with lust and yearning.

He pulled away, trying to control himself from going any further. “Look, if you want me to stop, tell me and we’ll pretend this never happened,” he said, your mouth barely an inch away from each other. He waited for your answer yet not even a single word has been said. He smirked and picked up where you last left it off. “I knew you liked me too,” he added in between kisses while hurriedly taking off your clothes.

Your limbs snaked around his waist and his hand caressed the curvatures of your body. Rough hands brought your thigh to his hips and the space between you getting closer to the point your body pressed on each other.

He grinded himself against you, earning the moan he always wondered what it would sound like. It was addicting to hear you cry out his name; he thought he’d only hear in the figment of his imagination.

Dan Heng got on his knees and pulled down your skirt and panties. He placed your leg over his shoulder, giving him good access to your soaking cunt. Hickeys colorfully marked the inner parts of your thigh as he made his way to your wet folds. His tongue lapped on your swollen clit, so desperate for his touch, causing your pussy to clench on nothing until he inserted fingers deep inside of you. With your pussy so eager for him, it was barely a hassle for him to curl them as his fingers soaked in your wetness.

You tried to hold back your moans, knowing the thin walls behind you were the only thing separating you from potential passersby. Dan Heng looked like a man with many secrets, but you never expected him to be the type of man to take such a large risk like this.

You tugged on his hair and bucked your hips while your clit began to throb. The two of you were barely started and he already has you wrapped around his fingers after making your wet pussy cum hard with his fingers.

Dan Heng slowly rose back up, his knees sore from stooping down to eat you out. The taste of your slick lingered in his lips and his tongue swirled around your mouth while he dowdily undid his pants. The tip of his cock prodded the entrance of your hole, already enough to cause shivers to run down your spine.

Without a warning, he inserted every inch of his dick, making you feel overwhelmed with how far he’s gotten inside you with one single thrust. You were so full of him and you tried to gulp back a moan as you bit your lip.

“Don’t hold anything back,” he demanded. “I want to hear you,” his voice ridden with desire as much as every little action his body advances on you, like how one hand groped on your sore thigh and the other skillfully kneaded your perked-up breast. His lips groaned with the taste of your name, making it sound so honey-sweet than ever before.

He felt ecstatic every time you sinfully mewl his name. It’s as if you turned a word he’s so used to hearing into something so sacred, only to be heard within the four walls confining you. Only you could make him rutt so needily to the point it felt near possible to control himself.

Your legs trembled more as he pounded your insides. “Please, I can’t take it anymore,” you pleaded, tears pooling in the side of your eyes and droplets staining your cheeks.

“A little more,” he rasped. “A little more. It won’t be too hard.”

Your mind went blank with how he’s been overstimulating you and your pussy ached while it clenched around his thick girth. He was so close to breaking you by the time his dick thrust in you one last time, spasming as ecstasy coursed through his veins.

He pulled out his dick, causing you to whimper and your juices to trickle down. Your legs shook, making it difficult to stand alone. Noticing your struggle, Dan Heng scooped you up bridal style and placed you on his futon to give you the proper rest you deserve.

Carefully, he wiped up the mess he turned you into before wrapping you in his blanket, making sure you won’t end up with a cold.

“Go take a nap,” he replied. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”

Draped in the warmth of the sheets that smells like him, you were still dumbfounded that something you thought you’d only dream about late at night would turn into reality— how he would ruthlessly plow you down one second then act so considerate and caring the moment after.

All things in the archives are open for everyone, but this little escapade of yours, an aftermath of a not-so-innocent dare, will remain your dirty little secret only the two of you will ever know.

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail fanfic #dan heng #dan heng smut #dan heng x reader #roiree risque #reposting this because i accidentally deleted it

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leclerc-s · 4 months

Text

paint the town red - bonus part

series masterlist

EPISODE 10 - AN UNEXPECTED PURCHASE

charles stands with max, before their final press conference of the season, when lance approaches them. he greets both of them before turning to charles, "what happened? twitter is losing it's mind."

charles laughs, max also looks visibly confused, "oh mate, the craziest thing happened."

"STARK!" lando is heard shouting before he appears in the camera's view. he crashes into charles, gripping his shoulders, "TONY FUCKING STARK JUST BOUGHT THE TEAM?"

"what?" max questioned, "who bought what team? and what are you doing here, you're supposed to be in the media pen?"

"TONY STARK JUST BOUGHT FERRARI MAX!"

"oh," lance said, "that's why twitter is losing it."

"losing it?" lando questioned, "twitter is in shambles lance. it's not everyday a fucking avenger buys an f1 team."

"correct me if i'm wrong," daniel says, approaching the group, "but didn't tony stark get attacked at the monaco grand prix ages ago?

"you should ask fernando about that," charles told lance. the canadian looked confused before realization hit him, "right, fernando's been driving as long as oscar's been alive."

"we are completely and utterly fucked if tony stark just bought ferrari. you think the red bull dominance was bad, ferrari is about to completely annihilate us," lando complained.

daniel laughed, "well, i'm sure you guys will enjoy fighting for that p3. my tractor and i will enjoy fighting for points."

will buxton sits in front of the camera, "there's not many times when the world of formula one falls silent. in 1994, it fell silent to mourn the death of ayrton senna, then again in 2014 to mourn jules bianchi. zhou's nearly fatal crash and romain's near death experience rendered it silent for a moment before it all went back to normal. but this, this is one of those moments where it all falls silent before exploding. no one saw this coming, that's how unexpected this was. we never thought we'd hear the news that a billionaire had purchased the oldest standing team in formula one. let alone an avenger."

we now see christian horner in front of the camera, “i think i’m more so upset about the fact that ferrari will now be able to steal the championship from us. if there’s one thing i know about tony stark is that he is one competitive son of a bitch. there will be no more half-assed pit stops and strategies from ferrari, that you can count on. and with his daughter as one of the race engineers and a lead engineer, that car is going to be a rocket ship. it just means the rest of us will have up our game.”

toto wolff sits in front of the camera, replacing christian horner, “this is not the first time someone has purchased a formula one team. i do not know why they are acting like this is a first. yes, ferrari will be difficult to beat next year. they will know what they are doing, but we will not give up without a fight. next year will be an interesting year for us all.”

in front of the camera now sits tony stark, his signature blue tinted glasses sit on his face. he smiles at someone off camera, before turning to the producer, "need me to take off the glasses?"

"if you would," the producer answered, "name and title please."

tony looks at the camera, "my name is tony stark and i am the new owner of scuderia ferrari's formula one team. oh! and i am iron man!"

"mr. stark, what led you to purchase the team?"

tony clears his throat, "my mother was italian and a big tifosi, she bled rosso corsa proudly. she never got the opportunity to see michael schumacher lead the team to the greatness he did. i kept up with the team in her memory, and in recent years the team hadn't been performing as well as a fan would've liked. i knew the current drivers, charles and carlos, were championship material. that much was obvious to me when sainz became the only non red bull driver to win a race in the 2023 season. for leclerc, well, there's a reason they call him il predestinato right? he won monza his maiden year with ferrari, that alone put him into the tifosi's good books. speaking of, i knew they were furious and after austin, i knew something had to be done. and if nobody else was going to do it, i was, so i bought the team."

"how confident are you that you can restore ferrari's old glory?"

"i trust my drivers and i trust my team, i think that says enough."

in front of the camera now sits an old face. sebastian vettel smiles brightly at the producer. the last time they had seen him he was in a green shirt and he looked tired, but the time away did him some good. he's happier now and back in ferrari red, back where he had started when the show first began.

"did you ever think you'd be back here?" the producer asked him. sebastian smiled, "honestly, no. i had left this all behind and i told myself i was never going to return to this sport. but when an opportunity like this comes around, you don't say no."

"are you happy with this new position or would prefer to be back in the car?"

"i'm happy with my job now."

“do you think you can help restore ferrari to its old glory?”

“yes,” sebastian quickly answers, “in the past ferrari had been stuck dwelling too much on its history. being stuck in the past for so long leads to no results. it leads to people demanding your first driver leave the team after constantly getting screwed over. we want the championship back in maranello and we will take it back. next year ferrari will put up one hell of a fight.”

“you’ve got a great team mr. vettel.”

“i know, i don’t plan on wasting it.”

charles smiles brightly at the camera, “hello.”

“hi charles,” the producer replies, “do you mind telling us what your first thought were when you heard the team had been bought? how did you find out?”

“i found out on twitter along with everyone else,” charles replied, “my first reaction was to text carlos to see if he knew, he was just as shocked as i was. no one had informed us the team had been bought much less who it had been bought by.”

“and how did you find out the team had been bought by tony stark?”

“when there was an emergency meeting called at maranello right before abu ahabi. carlos and i walked in to the factory and it felt like a different environment, people were excited and whispering to each other. you can imagine our surprise when we walked in to that meeting to see seb sitting with tony stark of all people.”

“i imagine it was a big shock?”

“yes,” charles answered, “mr. stark explained to us what he had done and told us that we should be expecting a whole new team when we arrived back from the final race of the season. it is exciting to know that things are changing.”

"is change a good thing?"

"in this case, it is. things needed to change if ferrari wants to be a championship contender once again. and this will be good for my friendship with carlos."

"are things strained between you two?"

"the truth? yes," charles replied, "it is difficult to go online and see people saying that you don't deserve your seat or that your teammate is better simply because he won a race when you haven't been able to do that this season. it places a sort of- tension? is that the word?" he looks at someone off camera, the person must nod because he turns to face the camera again, "carlos and i are good drivers, there is a reason we are formula one drivers. but the team, it has- it pit us against each other, that was what strained our friendship."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." charles laughs.

carlos looks at someone off camera, nodding at whatever they're saying, before turning to look at the producer, "hello," carlos greeted.

"hello carlos," the producer greeted, "can you tell us what your initial reaction was to learning the team had been bought?"

"i was shocked, i did not think it was possible for someone to buy the team, it's ferrari. but i also felt a bit relieved? i hope maybe things will change and we can have a decent shot at the championship."

"relieved? i don't think i've heard that one yet."

carlos chuckled, "my friendship with charles was strained after this season. i hope that with mr. stark as an owner we are able to put aside our work and our friendship to achieve the goal we have in common. to bring the championship back to ferrari."

"is it difficult to separate work and life off the track?"

"sometimes, yes. after singapore was when our friendship truly hit rock bottom. i think it was difficult for us to accept that only one of us was the 1st driver. everyone knows that it's charles, it has been since 2021, but i think after a while it was difficult for me to accept that. he's- charles is loved by the tifosi, he's loved by everyone because he's charles leclerc. sometimes it is difficult to be his teammate knowing people will always see me as second best."

"i see."

"i love the kid, trust me, i do. i value his friendship very much, but sometimes it is difficult. with stark as the owner, and sebastian as the new team principal, i am hoping things will change. even if charles is still first driver, i hope i am not treated as second best by my own team. sometimes change is good, this time i think it is."

"what are your wishes for this upcoming season?"

"to win the championship." carlos answers.

will buxton is in front of the camera once again, "it will certainly be entertaining to see what ferrari manage to do next season. the lingering question that remains is, will the starks live up to the hype surrounding this purchase? i guess we'll just have to wait and see."

series taglist: @celesteblack08 @be-your-coffee-pot @evans-dejong @elliegrey2803 @bingewatche @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @lorarri @melanier7 @ironspdy @mypage-myfandoms @vellicora @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @enchantedthoughts @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @fulla02 @cowboylikemets1989 @six-call @embrosegraves @justtprachisblog @bionic-donut @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @raizelchrysanderoctavius @burningcupcakefire @spilled-coffee-cup @jamie-selwyn @cool-ultra-nerd @kami10471633 @int3rnetgf @fernandoswarcrimes @skynel09 @arieltwvdtohamflash @mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @chiliwhore @tygecjjd @nothaqks @nataliambc @formulaa1d @prongsvault @kaa212 @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

¡leclerc-s speaks! once again, merry christmas to those of you celebrate and a very wonderfully normal day to those of you who don't. either way, my gift to you is this bonus episode for paint the town red, i hope you enjoyed it. it is a pain figuring out how to write netflix style, it's over 1.7k words, although it may not look like it.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

#leclerc-s #paint the town red series #f1 instagram au #f1 x oc #f1 oc #f1 smau #f1 social media au #f1 #formula one #f1 fic #formula 1 fic #f1 x female oc #charles leclerc x female oc #marvel social media au #f1 x marvel crossover

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wosowrites · 11 months

Text

Kids and Katie (Katie Mccabe x Reader)

warnings: mentions of su1c1de, slight smut

a/n: longest fic i’ve written in a while and it’s based off this request here

prompt: Katie’s and you are out on short term injury so you bring Katie’s godchildren to watch the game together.

When katie twisted her ankle, she got ruled out for a month. She was pissed, but secretly a little grateful. In all honesty, she needed the break. Her friends and her godchildren were set to be in town for a week and she had been worried about not spending enough time with them due to training and games. As her best friend, you had been in charge of telling her she was a great god parent and that her friends and their kids would come to the arsenal games and that she would spend the perfect amount of time with them. But then she got injured and she was off the hook. For you though, playing without Katie felt weird. You would scan the field for her because you knew she was somehow always open and then you would remember that she was injured. That didn’t last long though, as in a game vs Reading where you were winning 5-0, their keeper got angry and scared as you started sprinting towards her with the ball on a breakaway. Katie, of course, was sitting in the stands and saw the whole thing go down. She saw their keeper run out of her box and body slam you, sending you flying backwards, body crashing into the turf and head smacking against the ground. You didn’t move for a solid ten minutes, your head throbbing horrifically and realizing that you had been knocked out.

But eventually you got up and got stretched off the field. It was nothing but a nasty concussion but that did lead you to be sitting in the stands watching Arsenal take on another opponent. Only this time, you had two boys and a girl with you. You had told Katie’s friends that they should walk around the city without their kids for a bit, and had taken the responsibility to babysit Katie’s godchildren for the day.

So, you entered the stadium through the players entrance, Katie holding the hands of the two older boys, and you carrying ten month old Aya in your arms. You specifically made it clear to the Arsenal media and photographers to not take any pictures of the kids faces, and they of course, agreed. Although you and the kids parents knew that bringing them to the stadium meant that pictures of you and their kids would be taken, they didn't seem to mind, but you did.

"Who are these little munchkins?" Leah said as she walked up to you and Katie, smiling at the two boys and the heading over to the little baby girl you were holding. "That's Aya and this is Liam and Will," Katie said, pointing to each of the kids, "they're my godchildren," she added. "Someone trusted you with their kids if they-" Viv made a quick signal of slitting her throat with her thumb, "-D-I-E" she added. "Oh shut up Vivianne!" Beth said, shoving her and smiling at Katie. "Katie would be a great mother," she said, trying to reassure the Irishwoman. "You know who else would be a great mother? Y/n." Viv added, winking before walking away. You were left blushing furiously. trying to hide your face with Aya as Beth apologized for her girlfriends behaviour. "She's not wrong though," Katie said as you made your way up the stairs of the stadium to sit at the top, hopefully away from watchful eyes. "Not wrong about what?" you asked, looking at Katie as she stopped walking up the stairs.

"You would be a good mum."

She left it there, the boys tugging on her arm and rushing her to hurry up the stairs.

You sat in your seat beside Katie, your heart pounding.

Maybe a little context was necessary.

Three months ago, you did something you never ever did, you got blackout drunk. Your sister had just committed after fighting a silent battle with mental health for years. It took you about three days to fully process that your sister was gone. She had attempted when you were 13, and again when you were 17, but you had always found her and always watched out for her. You felt as though you had failed her.

So you got drunk, super drunk. So drunk that Viv and Beth, who lived in the apartment down the hall from you got woken up by the sound of an extremely loud crashing sound. The sound in question was you breaking your glass coffee table. They had rushed over, found you lying on the couch, sobbing and bloody from the cuts the glass had given you. And in the fit of mumbling and crying, you said something about Katie. They told you the next morning that your exact words had been. "How is she so blind. I've liked Katie for two years. You guys see that, right?"

So now they knew your secret, they knew about your soft, very soft spot for the Irishwoman, and you didn't know what to do about it. And maybe it shouldn't have, but seeing how well she sealed with kids turned you on more than you could ever have admitted.

But you focused on the game. No way you could sit there, thinking things about Katie with her godchildren around. You weren't that delusional... right? Right.

Aya had soundproof headphones over her ears and she was an all around angel. The twins, however, were a bit much. Will wanted to run around and Liam just wanted to do whatever Will was doing, so the mix was not good.

In the 20th minute, Arsenal scored and the stadium went insane, which made the twins freak out. "Beth! Can you please take Aya till we get the twins to calm down because they're driving Katie insane and-" you started saying, turning to Beth who was beside you. "Yeah, yeah hand her over," Beth said quickly as she took Aya who was just chilling. You thanked her and rushed over to Will who had escaped Katie. Liam was tucked away soundly under Katie's arm, the woman unbothered by the boys kicking.

You were quick, and smart, it was a combination Katie liked about you. So it wasn't hard for you to hop over the last row of chairs and snatch Will.

"William O'Sullivan. If you calm down right now I'll give you ten bucks, a freezie and I'll let you play punching bag with Katie," you whispered in his ear, all while Katie watched you. You moved to look into his eyes. "Okay. Deal. But first you gotta kiss Katie first because mum and dad say that you two are lovers who don't know it yet and mum and dad kiss all the time and they love each other so..."

You almost choked at the little boy's words, shock growing on your face. It took you a hot second to recover from the ambush, a second in witch you looked over at the Irishwoman, who gave you a raised eyebrow before looking back at the boy. "Freezie, 10 bucks, Katie punching bag or time out," you repeated, adding the threat of a punishment. "Fine!" You grabbed his hand gently and walked him over to your seats. "Okay, we're good." you told Katie. "She wants to kiss you," Will said.

"WILLIAM!" you screeched. "Sit down right now," you said, your heart pounding.

You didn’t feel well. You were getting major flashbacks of getting outed in tenth grade. You felt sick to the stomach and when William sat down, you pushed your way passed Katie and down the stairs, away from them.

Katie watched you rush off, concern on her face, and although she was annoyed with William, he was just a kid, he didn’t know any better. "William, you can’t do that. You can’t say things like that," Katie said, disciplining him lightly. "Did I make her mad?" he said quietly. Katie smiled at him softly, brining out a side of herself she never showed. "A bit. I’ll go talk to her. Stay with Beth and Viv?" she said, addressing the ACL duo. "How did supporting our club turn into a babysitting gig?" Viv groaned as Will and Liam got settled in Viviannes lap. "I’m sorry i’ll be right back," Katie said, rushing after you.

You had a key card to the door leading to a hall leading to stairs leading to the locker rooms, so that’s where you went. You knew Katie had one too, but what you didn’t know is that she watched you. She noticed that every time you felt nervous before a game, Leah would let you sit at her cubby. You were always at Leah’s cubby, maybe because she radiated comfort. Not as much comfort as Katie did but you were scared of letting drop any indicator about your feelings for the irishwoman.

To be completely honest, there were at least thirty people who watched Katie rush after you, but for once, she didn’t care about who watched her. She just cared about getting to you. And she did.

The irishwoman opened the door leading to the changing rooms with her key card and slipped into the tunnels, making sure the door was well and locked behind her. When she was convinced it was, she turned and started hurrying towards the Arsenal changing room.

Katie opened the door swiftly and as expected, you were sitting at Leah’s cubby. You lifted your head to look at her briefly before looking back down to the floor. "Katie…" you said, exhaling in slight annoyance.

"No, please don’t Katie me. Just- what did he mean?" Katie asked, sitting across from you.

You took it as a sign that she was annoyed with you, in reality it was simply because if she sat too close, god knows where her hands would go. Under your shirt was the most likely scenario.

"You mean what did the unhinged 6 year old who I love very much but let’s be honest, causes nothing but trouble, mean when he said that I wanted to kiss you?" you asked, sitting up straight and then leaning back against the wall. "That’s exactly what I mean," Katie said softly, looking at you through her eyelashes.

You held her look for a while. You didn’t recognize Katie right now. Katie was fierce. She took things into her own hands, always. If she wanted to kiss you as well, she would be straddling you in the changing room right now.

Katie didn’t recognize you at all. You were being directed, holding eye contact and speaking clearly instead of your usual nervous reck and blushed sentences. But she wanted to respect you. If she could take her things into her own hands, she would be on top of you right then and there.

"What did he mean, y/n?" Katie asked again.

"I don’t even know! I don’t know where he got that from but- but he’s not wrong, Katie. He’s not wrong," you let out.

Katie had never been frozen before. No one had ever said something to her that took her so off guard that she just… stopped.

"Jesus just say you don’t like me back instead of watching me like a deer in front of headlights it’s humiliating," you groaned, standing up and heading towards the door.

You weren’t able to take five steps before hands wandered your waist, first softly and then harshly.

Katie pushed you up against the wall, only slightly taller than you, and attacked your lips almost violently.

It was all you had ever wanted. You let your hands roam her toned stomach as she did the same to you, your lips a tangled mess, your teeth clashing and your tongues fighting for who would come out on top.

You moaned into her mouth when her hand cupped your pussy but you quickly had to push her off.

"The kids. Emilie and Clark would murder us we need to get back to them. Like right now," you said, grabbing her hand and opening the door. She groaned almost hungrily but obeyed and followed you out.

You rushed back up to the spot the kids, Viv and Beth were sitting at, feeling guilty for leaving them.

Once you got up there, you smiled at Viv and Beth who looked a little all too knowing and took back Aya as Katie handled Will and Liam who had calmed down significantly.

Arsenal won 4-1 versus Everton, and then you all went down to the pitch. You handed Aya over to Viv who had funnily taken a liking for the dutch, and then picked up Liam and placed him on the field. He quickly went running around and you smiled, watching him run after his brother.

Katie stood beside you, only inches between you both. She was trying hard not to lace her hand around your waist and you could see that so you gently stepped to the side, trying to make her life easier.

After congratulating the team on the win and a lot of feelings of fomo from not being on the pitch, you gathered up the twins and Aya and headed out to your car. The kids were tired and slept the whole ride back to Katie’s apartment, and you and the irishwoman didn’t talk much either. You didn’t know what to say.

So, you pulled up to the apartment complex where Emilie and Clark were waiting for you guys and let them take their kids.

"Thank you so much, you have no clue how nice it was to just be alone for a bit," Emilie said, hugging you and then Katie. "Nah we get it. No worries. The offer is still up if you want to ditch the hotel and stay at the apartment," Katie said.

Emilie looked between both of you and smiled slightly. "Thank you… but you two clearly have something to talk about," the mother said.

You blushed and said goodbye to her before heading up to Katie’s apparement.

She unlocked the door and you sat on the marble counter. Katie gently came towards you, placing her hands on your knees and spreading your legs apart to stand between them.

"Can I be your girlfriend? I want to be yours," Katie said.

You smiled widely, looking down at her and cupping her face. You placed a soft kiss on her forehead and then her nose. "Yes, you can be my girlfriend."

#katie mccabe #arsenal fcw #vivianne miedema #beth mead #woso couples #this is woso #woso fic #woso x reader

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hangmanssunnies · 1 year

Text

Double Tap

House We Share: Double Tap, Sfumato, Good Comes In 3

Summary: You were hesitant when your friends told you about their other friend who needed a roommate. Living with a man, let alone a Naval aviator, isn't your ideal living situation. However, you are desperate to get out of your current house. So, you will have to suck it up and make a deal with Jake "Hangman" Seresin. Now you just wish he would stop doing things that make you fall in love with him.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman Seresin x Fem! Civilian! Reader, minor Javy "Coyote" Machado x OC

Word count: 19k

AO3 LINK

Warnings: Abuse (Implied and mentioned), confrontation with Abuser, Child abuse (mentioned), Slow burn, Implied calorie counting, routines and compulsions, Jigsaw puzzles, taxes, Neurodivergent coded! Hangman, Fiscally responsible!Hangman, Protective!Hangman. Please let me know if I missed any for this part, I know it is a long one.

Authors Note: This got so completely out of hand. It started as one scene and then grew a mind of its own. Part two is written, just not edited, I'm planning on having that done later this week. Hangman Coyote BFF supremacy. I apologize for writing the most hyper-specific!Jake you have probably ever read. 85% of his personality is just things I find attractive in men.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

You had been at your friend Marlee's house for almost an hour before she couldn't stop herself from confronting you. She had at least let you get settled and offered you a drink while pretending to be distracted by the lasagna she was making. She had spun towards you expectantly when it was in the oven, having reached her limit on waiting.

"What happened?" Marlee asks.

"It's nothing." You respond.

"It is something. I don't want to reread your texts back to you, babes."

"Marls," you sigh, briefly closing your eyes, trying to fight the exhaustion you feel.

"You can't live there anymore. We need to get you out."

"Yeah, let me just move and find a place to live. It's not that easy, Marlee."

She sighs heavily. "I know, babes, but at least stay here with Javy and me. If he touches you like that again."

"It was just a one-time thing," you quickly cut her off. But, from the pitying look in her eyes, she knows it hasn't been just this one time.

"If something happened."

"Nothing is going to happen." Marlee was too bright and too good of a friend. She knew something had already happened, and she knew things had been happening. Her frown and eyebrow raise say it all.

"I can't just crash here," you say.

"You are always, always welcome."

"You are," a voice pops up, and you both look over to the couch. You thought Marlee's husband, Javy, was thoroughly invested in the game he was playing on his Xbox, but it turns out he had an ear on your conversation.

It wasn't something that bothered you. You loved Javy, he had been an excellent partner to Marlee, and you considered him a friend. He was fun and easygoing, something you hadn't expected from a Navy man. You also weren't bothered because everyone knew they were the type of couple that told each other absolutely everything. So, Javy would have found out one way or another.

"I know that. Thanks, you two." You tell them, trying to get them off your back.

"Marlee is right. We can't have anything happening to you."

"Nothing is going to happen to me, Javy," you say, now trying to reassure them and stop this unnecessary worrying.

"You know. I have a friend who has actually been looking for a roommate." Javy says.

"You do?" you ask, surprised you hadn't heard about this sooner.

"Yeah, I mean, he can be a lot. But he is a good guy and a great roommate."

"Who ?" Marlee cuts in.

"Jake."

"Hangman?"

"Yeah, Hangman." The two of them stare at each other, and you can see that they are having one of those conversations of glances and small expressions you weren't entirely privy to understanding.

Marlee then shrugs, nodding, and looks back at you, "It would be a nice safe place."

"I mean, it's an option and would be a nicer place to stay than anything else you'll find. Plus, someone who is not a total stranger as a roommate." Javy tells you. He pulls off his headset and makes his way to the kitchen. He sets his hand on your shoulder and gives you a kind smile.

"I'm not sure about living with a man."

"If you don't want to live with Jake or you aren't interested, we will find somewhere else. Or you stay here with us, but you can't stay there anymore." The seriousness behind Javy's smile isn't lost on you. So you start to slowly nod.

"I guess I could at least chat with your friend if y'all think it's a decent option."

"Yeah, for sure," Javy said with a grin. "I'll ask him about it, then maybe y'all can meet this weekend. We are still having a big bonfire on the beach. I'm sure he will be there."

"Oh, I wasn't planning on going to the bonfire." You start to say, which makes both Javy and Marlee frown.

"Why aren't you coming to the bonfire?"

You tried to think of a valid excuse beyond that being in open public spaces was terrifying to you right now. An excuse past the fact that you knew your bruises wouldn't be gone by Saturday.

"I've just been stressed about finding a place to live, you know." You gave them both a weak smile, but neither of your friends seemed appeased.

"Well, now you have a reason to come," Marlee says.

"Yeah, exactly, and I'll talk to Jake." Javy presses a kiss to your forehead and then a lingering one to Marlee's lips. He returns to the couch, but not before looking at you seriously. "You know if you ever need anything, you call us?"

"Sir, yes sir," you tell him with a laugh, making Marlee giggle too.

Even with Javy's reassurances, you are unsure about this whole idea. However, whoever this friend Jake is, you know he had to be better than your current living situation. After dinner, Marlee and Javy both reiterate their feelings on the whole issue before you leave their house. You did your best to wave them off and tell them you would see them in a few days.

When Saturday rolls around, you head to the pin Marlee sent you for the bonfire. You are thankful it is a cooler day and will only be colder once the sun sets. It allows you to not look so out of place in your conservative clothes, ensuring all your bruises are covered.

You arrive purposefully late and park far from the beach. By the time you make it to the group of people, you have sufficiently hyped yourself up to interact with the others. You decide to ease yourself into the party. You walk around the different coolers, opening them and investigating the available drink options.

You are in the middle of shuffling through one when you hear a voice behind you.

"Anything specific I can help you find, sweetheart?" You turn around and are met with one of the most attractive men you have ever met. He is tall, with dirty blonde hair and a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose.

"I'm just browsing," You tell the man with a shrug, proud of yourself for being able to put together a sentence.

"I think I know what would be perfect for you, sweetheart.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah," He says, flashing you a grin. His smile makes something in your stomach swoop a tiny bit.

"And, what would that be?" you say, raising an eyebrow.

"Me, of course."

You can't help the shocked laugh that falls out of your throat. Which just makes his handsome smile widen.

"I was thinking something a bit stronger, actually."

"I know I look like a tall glass of water but let me tell you, I won't disappoint you."

"Well, looks certainly can be deceptive."

"That's true. Are you really as sweet as you look?"

Before you can answer, you hear Javy's voice to your right. "Oh good, you two already met."

You turn your head to see Javy jogging over. He stops next to you with a smile on his face. You process his words and feel your stomach drop. The incredibly handsome man you were trying to flirt with was Javy's friend. Javy's friend he thought you could live with.

"There haven't been any formal introductions," you say.

"Jake Seresin," he says. He sticks out his hand, waiting for you to shake it. You take his hand, give it a firm shake, and share your name. He repeated it softly, giving your hand an extra squeeze before letting go.

"Javy said you are looking to move," Jake says casually. Your voice seems stuck in your throat. You examine Jake's handsome face again and know you can't do this.

"Yeah, she is. Soon, too." Javy says after you haven't said anything leaving an awkward pause.

"I have lots of space."

"Oh well, you know." You say, trying to figure out what to say by saying nothing at all. Jake nods along with you, but his eyebrows pull close together while his eyes narrow.

"Plus, Jake is really clean," Javy adds.

"That is good to know. Maybe Jake and I can talk about it later?" You say, giving both of them a smile. You turn back to the coolers and grab the first drink you see.

"Yeah, we can talk about it later. Javy owes me a spike ball game anyways," Jake says. He flashes you another smile while grabbing a High Noon out of the cooler, gesturing for Javy to do the same. You leave them to find Marlee and chat with some other people at the party.

You are considering how to best say goodbye and leave the party while sitting next to the fire later. You stare into the flames hoping they might provide you answers.

"You would actually be doing me a huge favor by moving in, "Jake says to you casually. You are startled by his sudden presence, and you look over at him, quirking an eyebrow in response.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. I haven't had a roommate for a while, and I would prefer someone who isn't in the military. I don't want to bring work and ranks home. You know?"

"Oh yeah, sure, that makes sense," you say, following his line of logic.

"Also, rent these days is," Jake doesn't finish the sentence, instead just whistling quietly.

"Yeah, rent is expensive," you laugh. You find it much easier to talk to Jake if you don't have to look directly out at him.

"You don't have to let me know right now, but I don't have any issues with it."

"We haven't talked about it much," you tell him, surprised he had decided so quickly.

"There is this saying that beggars can't be choosers."

"I would want a roommate contract. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that would be fine by me, Sugar."

"Okay, cool, but we should think about it."

"Tonight is a party, and we are supposed to be having fun. Not doing business. So, why don't you text me, and we will hash out the details this week. Plus you can see the place, which you would probably want. Maybe you could move in next weekend if we can work it all out?"

Part of you thought you shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, so you decided to text Jake throughout the week to hash out the details. And the next thing you know, Javy, Marlee, and Jake are helping you move your stuff.

Living with Jake wasn't as hard as you worried it would be. In fact, it was much easier than you were anticipating. Jake led his life with strict regiment and routine. It was something that stretched beyond that he was in the military.

Jake would wake up in the mornings and go on a run before coming home, making breakfast, showering, and going to work. Then he would come home, change and go to the gym, come home, shower again because he needed to, and then eat dinner. Every night if you were home while he was cooking, Jake would always offer you some. That leads you to find out he is a phenomenal chef.

Then Jake would read in the large armchair in the living room and half-watch whatever you put on the TV to watch yourself. He only requested to use the TV when one of his sports teams was playing or on Wednesday nights, where he would spend an hour and a half playing Animal Crossing with his niece while they facetime.

You had told Jake that the TV was his, and he didn't have to ask you to use it. Jake just laughed and shrugged before telling you he wasn't the biggest TV guy. Jake had been telling the truth when he said that. You realized that Jake was more interested in his books. If he wasn't reading a book, he sat silently with one of his sudoku puzzles and country music playing on vinyl. Then Jake would go to bed after whatever chores he deemed he should do.

It was a strictly followed pattern, only differing on Fridays when he would sometimes go out to a bar with the guys or sometimes Saturdays. However, even on the weekends, he would follow the schedule closely. Regardless if he had gone to the bar, he would still wake up outrageously early in the morning, work out, do chores, and then go to the gym again. Sometimes Jake would venture out of the house to see his friends, but more often than not, he was reading or in the workshop in the garage with some project.

Marlee had not prepared you for how amazingly hot Jake was. When you moved in, he had been very polite, if a bit curt. Never venturing to flirt with you again like when you first met. As the weeks living with Jake passed, though, he definitely warmed up to you. But still never pushed the roommate line between you.

You worked hard to push your attraction for Jake to the side or shove it into a safe in the back of your mind. That was a challenging task to accomplish because, just like Javy said, Jake was very clean. It wasn't that he was a clean freak per se, but he was definitely an orderly and well-kept person. Everything in the house had a place it belonged.

Jake always did his dishes and tidied up after himself in your common areas. He also never leaves any of his laundry waiting around. You had watched in a mix of awe and horror the first time he pulled out clothes from the dryer within five minutes of the machine going off. Then Jake started folding, halfway through the laundry, stoping to pull out an iron and ironing board.

The sight was all so attractive that you had to excuse yourself upstairs. That was something that you often had to do. Anytime you felt heat build in you towards your roommate, you would quickly excuse yourself. You knew giving into your attraction for Jake in any shape or form would not lead anywhere good. You needed a place to live, and this place you had with Jake was way too good to risk anything.

Given his career choice, it was not entirely surprising how regimented Jake is. However, what did surprise you was when he started to incorporate you into his routines in small ways. Jake would automatically set out an extra plate for you when cooking, and picks up snacks you like from the store. One day you come home and find a second shoe rack by the door just for you. On the days you had to be up for work, you would find that Jake had already put your morning drink together for you when he returned from the gym and was making his own breakfast. You like the steady rhythm and consistency that living with Hangman provides you. It's seamless and easy to fall into step with him.

You had been living with Jake for a few months, and things were going really well, almost too well you sometimes felt like it was too good to be true. Your nightmares weren't as frequent. You get full nights sleep and feel comfortable here with Jake. The only times you don't feel content are the times that you think about how hot Jake is. Or when Jake does something that makes it hard not to try and smash your lips against his in a heated, passionate kiss.

Then one day, you get home from work, and worry suddenly sweeps over you as you glance at your phone and realize what time it is. The house is completely dark and quiet. Jake should have been home several hours ago and on his way to the gym already. In fact, right about now was when he should have been getting home from the gym.

You resist the urge to call Jake and check that he is okay. You know that action would be overstepping the roommate boundaries that exist clearly between you. You tell yourself it's silly to worry all because he wasn't following the schedule you made up for him in your head. It's not like Jake had ever written down his routine and given it to you. Maybe today was a special anniversary, or maybe he had after-work plans you didn't know about.

Your worry is eased about twenty minutes later when you hear Jake's truck pull into the driveway, followed by the garage door rumbling open. You find yourself easing further into the couch, some of the tension you weren't wholly conscious of easing out of your body.

Jake comes in, and you cut your eyes over to see him still in his flight suit. He doesn't say anything to you as he unlaces and kicks off his shoes. He passes you while walking to the stairs and manages a short but gruff hello. Then, without another word, he is gone. You stare after his back in shock. Something is definitely not right with Jake.

He left his shoes sprawled on the ground by the door. It was not a sight you had ever seen in the house, not even the times Jake had stumbled home drunk and giggly. Jake always pulled off his boots, neatly tucking the laces in and then setting them up on his small shoe rack by the door.

You get up from the couch and walk over to fix his shoes, tucking in the laces. You tell yourself it is so no one will trip over them, not for any other reason. Then you hear Jake's shower turn on, and the water runs much longer than the twenty-minute showers you are used to him taking. It all feels so odd and out of place. You decide to make some pasta for dinner, convinced Jake is planning on not eating at all with how far he is off his schedule.

You are just finishing dinner when the water in his bathroom finally shuts off. Then fifteen more minutes later, Jake comes downstairs in a pair of plaid pajama pants and a thread-bare Annapolis shirt. He appears to be looking around downstairs, almost a bit dazed and lost.

"I made dinner. How about you have some?" You call out to him from the kitchen. Jake follows your voice to the kitchen and looks at the food you have made and dishes up. Hesitantly he sits down at the table.

"If you don't mind."

"Of course not. I know this may shock you since you normally cook, but I can do it too."

"I've never thought that you couldn't cook." Jake quickly responds.

"I know, Jake. I'm just teasing you. Now eat up."

Jake follows orders and takes a bite of the pasta, letting out a small groan. "So good," he mumbles before taking another bite.

"Do you want the macros?" You ask him conversationally after eating in silence for a few minutes.

"Oh. No, thank you. I appreciate you making something and sharing. No need for you to put in extra work. I will be fine not tracking my macros for one meal," Jake says.

"Okay," you say and give him the kindest smile you can think of. You don't want to push him on why he isn't okay. However, you can't stop yourself from sliding the piece of paper you wrote the macros on across the table to him anyways.

Jake stares at the note card for a long moment and then looks up at you. It's not a look you have ever seen on your roommate's face before. You aren't entirely sure how to decipher the way his green sea-glass eyes are gleaming back at you. He folds the paper once before putting it in his pocket.

Jake clears his throat, and the edges of his lips quirk up. "Thank you."

"Of course, anytime, Jake," you say back. He puts away his plate a few minutes later after finishing his food. Then packs up the leftovers into some tupperware.

"I'm going to bed," Jake tells you. Jake doesn't even stop to grab the current book he is in the middle of from where it is placed next to his chair in the living room.

The moment Jake disappears up the stairs, you are frowning again, considering his behavior. It bugged you, something clearly was off, but you weren't in the position to ask him what it was. As you start to settle down for the evening, you notice that Jake had put it in the laundry basket next to the washer that morning. Seeing that you knew he originally had every intention of starting it before going to the gym that night something that never happened.

You briefly considered that maybe it isn't normal how you have memorized his routine, but also maybe that was just part of living with Jake. You didn't even think before you were throwing his laundry in the washer for him. You stay up to put the clothes in the dryer. Then you find yourself folding items and hanging some of them, not confident that you could iron them correctly. About halfway through the chore, you stop realizing just what you are doing but finish it out, imagining the look on Jake's face when he sees his laundry done. You are in too deep to back out at this point.

🏡🧩🏡

You knew it wasn't the best idea that morning when you had left to go pick up some of your remaining stuff and random mail from where you used to live. However, you didn't expect it to go as badly as it had. You were still shaking from the interaction you had when you got home. Every moment of the interaction repeats over and over in your head. You hazardously throw your keys into your little key bowl, not caring to notice Jake's there as well.

You were still trying to take calming breaths and push away the tears streaming down your face. Standing at the entrance to the living room frozen, you aren't sure if you are actually at home or back there with him.

You startle and jump, letting out a small shriek, hearing a sound in the kitchen. You turn slowly, shocked to see Jake staring at you dressed in his NWUs instead of his flight suit. You are equally surprised by the sight of him home in the middle of the day, in a uniform you rarely see him wear.

The adrenaline of being scared forces your brain into letting go of the nerves and panic you had barely been keeping in check. Tears spring freely from your eyes as you take gasping breaths. J ake sets down the knife he is holding and takes long strides across the room to quickly reach your side. His hands hover near you but don't actually touch.

"What's wrong?" Jake asks in a deep voice.

You just shake your head at him, unable to respond, instead focusing on getting air into your lungs.

"Can I touch you?" Jake asks then, and that does seem okay, so you jerkily nod your head yes.

First, his hands settle lightly on your shoulders. Once it seems like you are okay and comfortable with that. Jake goes a step further and wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. You press your face into the material of his shirt. Your hands come up to bunch it slightly on his chest as you find purchase to clutch him closer.

He makes gentle shushing noises but otherwise doesn't say anything while holding you. He is so warm, and his arms feel strong around you. Jake's hold on you doesn't waiver once while you cry. Only relaxing slightly when your sniffles and crying start to level out and you let go of his shirt.

You take one more deep breath of him. Jake smells of a pleasant mix of his body wash, y'all's fabric softener, and his cologne. Letting the calming effect of the smell flood your system before letting go of your hold on him completely, only then does Jake let his arms slip away.

Pulling away from the hug, you shyly look to see Jake's face. You find that he is already looking at you. For one of the first times since you met him, you don't like how Jake's face looks. There is a soft and sad demeanor that you see in his eyes. His eyebrows crease and his lips are pressed into a flat line. You feel embarrassment and shame flood you. The way that you just broke down and cried on your roommate, fully processing in your muddled tired head.

"You're home," you eventually say, trying to break the ice and put a brave face back on.

"Yeah, I'm not flying today. So, I had the time to come home for lunch."

"Sorry to interrupt." You say, looking down to examine your feet.

"You didn't interrupt anything," Jake reassures you. He goes back to the kitchen, and you watch as he continues to cut ingredients for his salad.

"Do you want me to make you anything?" He asks.

"No, thank you. "You say not feeling even a little hungry.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jake asks next.

"No, thank you," you say again and settle at the kitchen island to watch Jake cut the veggies and toss them in a big bowl.

"Okay," he says. You like that Jake doesn't push you for things. He respects the boundaries you set and doesn't even try to toe up against them.

"Am I allowed to know why you aren't flying today? I thought someone had broken in. Plus, I hardly recognize you out of a flight suit."

"You don't like these?" Jake asks, looking at the Navy camo print he is wearing as if this uniform suddenly offended him.

"I didn't say that," you tell him, giving a small laugh. Obviously, Jake could make anything look good, even things that shouldn't.

"Can't fly every day." He says with a shrug. "Also, I'm going through some maintenance stuff and checks with my sailors."

You hum, but otherwise, don't comment watching Jake wash the knife and cutting board he had been using then. Then, after he drys them and puts them away, he turns back to you.

"There isn't anything to be embarrassed about," he tries to venture lightly.

"You don't come home and cry on me," you say, frowning.

"You sure about that one?" He asks, shoving a mouthful of salad into his mouth.

"Pretty sure that I would remember such an occasion."

Jake just hums. One of those sounds that makes you feel like he doesn't actually agree. A few bites of his food later, he sets his bowl down. His green gaze is trialed on you, but then he glances at his watch, huffing in annoyance.

There is a slight caving feeling inside you. You feel bad. How much of Jake's lunch have you taken up? You had never actually seen him come home for lunch before, so he must not get a long time.

"I do all the time. Maybe just a bit less of the wet physical crying." Jake tells you, putting a container lid on his bowl.

"You could," you utter to him, a little embarrassed.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, wouldn't bother me if you ever needed to. You know. I'm here for you."

"Thank you, Darlin," Jake says. Then glances at his watch again. "I got ten minutes before I have to go. What would you like to do?"

"I'm fine," you tell him. "You should use that time to eat."

"I'll munch while I'm doing some paperwork later."

That was a lie. You knew that Jake would never eat around paperwork. However, it was the kind of lie that settles warmly. It was one of those lies born with good intentions and made to be soothing. You could never be upset that he is even trying to comfort you at his own expense.

"I don't want to talk about it, Jake." You reiterate again.

"I know, and you don't have to. I won't ask again. However, if you ever decide that you do. I'm here for you too. Always."

"Thank you, Jake. You're a really good roommate."

"I hope you can consider me a friend too?"

"Of course, we are friends too," you reassure him. Jake's lips quirk upwards, his dimples flashing upon hearing that.

"Now, I can't go back to work without seeing at least one smile."

"That's a pretty tall order."

"Well, they don't call me the best for nothing."

"Do they really call you the best or is that something you just tell people?" You ask him, mostly joking. Jake pretends to take offense, pressing his hand dramatically to his chest.

"Ma'am, you wound me," Jake says, pouting.

"I don't know. I think it is a pretty legitimate question."

"I am the best."

"And how do they determine that exactly? Who the best is."

"Well, there are a lot of ways. Many different factors to consider."

"Oh really?"

"Yup. Also sorts of stuff, but they get us all together once a year, and we have a competition."

"What kind of competition?"

"Only the elite members of the Navy participate. We all take turns sliding."

"Sliding?"

"Yup," Jake confirms, sounding one hundred percent serious. "We set up a huge slip and slide on the carrier runway. You only get three tries, and then we add them for scoring. I may have ripped off all the skin on my chest last year, but it was worth it to win."

You can't help but let out a laugh. You picture Hangman competitively sliding down a yellow tarp that doesn't have enough water on it. It's such a silly concept you aren't sure where he came up with it.

"Ahh there she is," Jake says with a broad smile.

"I never would have thought that was a skill the Navy values."

"Yes, Ma'am. It's actually the second part of the Naval academy mission," Jake tells you, still maintaining a serious tone despite his smile. Then Jake stands up straight to his full height in parade rest.

"To develop Midshipmen morally, mentally and physically and to imbue them with the highest ideals of duty, honor and loyalty in order to graduate leaders who are dedicated to a career of naval service and have potential for future development in mind and character to assume the highest responsibilities of command, citizenship and government." Jake repeats dutifully and then adds. "In addition to putting these ideals to the test by hosting the world's most competitive slip and slide competition. Weirdly, people don't talk about that second part much."

You only laugh harder, shaking your head at him. "Yeah, an absolute mystery. I can't believe that isn't common knowledge."

Jake chuckles along with you. Then you two are interrupted by a timer going off from Jake's phone. He sighs and silents it.

"I'm sorry. I've got to go, sugar. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah. I promise I'm okay. Thank you, Jake."

He bites his lip and nods at you going to put in his shoes and lace them back up. "Are you going to be home later?"

"Yeah, I'll be home."

"We could do something if you're feeling up for it. Or I can pick up takeout."

"That's sweet, Jake, but you really don't have to."

"I want to," he says with a shrug. Then checks his reflection in the mirror, making sure he is presentable to go back to work. After that, he turns back to you.

"I'll think about it." You tell him before playfully shoving him out the door so he isn't late. You try not to melt when Jake gives you another hug. You catch his hand just before he is too out of reach.

"Thank you, Jake. For making me smile."

"It's the prettiest thing I've seen all day," Jake says, squeezing your hand with his own. His words muddle your brain a little bit. You don't get to say anything else before he heads off to his truck, waving at you one more time and driving off.

You also pretend you aren't screaming on the inside when Jake comes home from work that night with your favorite food and ice cream. The night feels easy and warm, sitting and eating with Jake. The events of that morning can't cross your mind while Jake tells you all about some of the weird contraband he found in the junior sailors' barracks that day. He is no less than spellbinding.

🏡🧩🏡

Jake is sitting at the kitchen table when you get home from work. He is surrounded by neatly organized papers spread all along the table in various piles. Jake is wearing a button-down, tie, and slacks that make you do a triple-take on him.

"Welcome home," he says, glancing up from his laptop that is open in front of him. That's when you see he also has a pair of glasses on.

"Thank you," you say, slowly making your way to the kitchen but still looking at him.

"What are you working on there?" You ask.

"Oh, I'm doing my taxes," Jake says while giving you one of his winning smiles.

"Taxes?"

"Yes, Ma'am"

"I guess that makes sense," you say while looking around the kitchen for a snack.

After a few minutes of silence, you decide to ask another question. "Do you have a date later?"

You knew Jake dated. A man who looks like that has to date. However, you had yet to see him ever bring someone home, which felt odd considering everything about Jake, and the persona he liked to put on as Hangman.

"No. What makes you ask that?" Jake asks you.

"Oh. I don't know. You're dressed like you are going on a date."

"No, I'm not," he says, looking down at himself.

You laugh at him and shrug. "If you say so."

"I would never wear this on a date," Jake mutters, clearly offended.

"Well, then, why are you wearing it?"

"I'm doing taxes," he says again.

"Yeah, we have covered that. What does that have to do with your clothes?"

"I'm dressed like an accountant," Jake tells you. You can't hold back your giggles at his phrasing and bring a hand up to your mouth to try and stifle them before giving up entirely.

"What? What's so funny?"

"Two things," you say, holding up two fingers, finally biting back your giggles.

"One, the fact that you got dressed up to do your taxes. The second is that being an accountant is a euphemism for being a sex worker." Jake chuckles at your explanation but shrugs.

"Well, Mrs. Celeste said I should always dress for the day. It helps you present your best self. If you dress the part, it helps you act that part." Jake says that like a well memorized and treasured quote. A saying he clearly remembered with much fondness.

"And today is my tax day, so I am dressing like a tax professional. I will have you know. Since I started doing them myself, I have never had one problem with my taxes."

You couldn't help but chuckle more at his explanation and give him a fond smile. Sometimes the way Jake was so perfectly built and attuned for the military was endearing. Of course, a career Naval man would think a uniform was essential for each different activity.

"So, are the glasses part of your tax uniform too?"

He made a show of pushing the said glasses further up his nose. "Yes, Ma'am. They also are blue light blocking, which helps prevent migraines."

You nod along to his explanation. You finish putting together your snack and lean against the kitchen counter while munching on it. "Who is Mrs. Celeste? A teacher?"

Jake's lips flatten slightly before the expression relaxes just as quickly. "No, Mrs. Celeste is my Babula."

"Your Grandmother?" You guess.

"Yeah, sorry. My grandma, but she was strictly Mrs. Celeste growing up, only Babula occasionally."

"I don't think I've met someone who calls their grandparent by their first name."

"Well, not really her first name. You have to be respectful and throw the Miss in there with it. She is a very particular lady."

"Is it a southern thing?"

"Yeah, maybe," he says with a small laugh. The edges of his lips quirk up, and you have to look away from Jake to distract yourself. It is easy to fall into the trap of how beautiful he is, with the sparkle he can get in his eyes. Or how even the smallest of his smiles makes you want to grin back.

"So, how are the taxes?"

"Oh, it's good. I'm almost finished up."

"Awesome, congrats Jake."

"Have you done yours?" He asks you.

You shake your head and roll your eyes at the idea. "No, I definitely haven't."

"But you got your W2s in the mail last week."

"Jake, are you snooping through my mail?"

He raises both his hands up in defense. "No, I'm not! W2s just have a very particular look."

"I'm just kidding. I know you wouldn't snoop through my mail. Yeah, I got them, but I've been busy. I guess I should make a Tax Masters appointment or something."

That crease in between Jake's eyebrows appears, the one that haunts you, that you pretend you don't obsess over. Followed by a small frown.

"Tax Master?" He asks, clearly appalled. You shrug back at him, not entirely seeing the issue.

"I could do them for you," Jake says, then quickly adds on. "I mean, I can help you do them. If you have the time. I'm already dressed for it, and I won't charge you or anything."

"Oh no, Jake, that is so sweet, but I can't ask you to do that."

"No, really, I wouldn't mind. I think it would be fun. Plus, then you will have it done, and you won't have to worry about it."

"Really, thank you so much, but it's fine."

Jake's frown deepens at your answer, and he seems almost genuinely upset at your denial of his help. The warm feeling in your chest likes to flip over and grow a little bit more each time he is too sweet in moments like these.

"You know Javy warned me that you were an asshole when I was going to move in. However, you have not once lived up to that. You could stand to be less nice to me, Jake." You tell him. You mean it to come off as almost flirty and a bit of a joke. However, it doesn't seem to land with him that way.

The change that comes over Jake isn't something entirely tangible. It is almost like a shift in the air around him rather than anything physical. The way Jake looks at you just feels heavier and more charged. The confidence he always exudes seems to double with how he sits up just the smallest bit straighter but then leans back against his chair casually.

"Go get your W2s." He tells you in a perfectly level tone, but it has a demanding edge.

"Jake," you start to say and roll your eyes at him.

"Nope," Jake says, popping the p. His voice takes on a lower candace, leaving no room for arguments. "I'm not giving you a choice. We are going to do your taxes."

"No, we aren't doing my taxes."

"Yes, I am. I can't be caught not living up to my reputation. So, I'm not going to be nice and accept that you don't want to. This is one of the few situations I won't take no for an answer."

"It was just a joke."

"No, it wasn't," Jake says, giving you a small shrug. You can't tell if he is actually hurt by how he is acting, but you suspect some part of him was twinged at his best friend's description.

"It really was, Jake. Javy adores and trusts you. I'm sure he never would have suggested me moving in with you if he actually thought you were an asshole."

"I know I'm an asshole. It's fine, sugar, don't worry. I'm not going to tattle on you telling me that to Coyote."

"You aren't an ass, though. That was my whole point."

Jake just shook his head at your answer. "I am one, and I don't want that to be a surprise when you inevitably witness it."

You aren't sure how to respond to that, so you are relieved when Jake changes the topic. "Now, get your tax stuff, so it doesn't take us all night."

"Okay," you sigh, giving in to defeat. Jake gives you a mega-watt smile, and looks back at his computer screen.

As you are walking up the stairs, you hear him yell across the house. "Dress like your best accountant self!"

"I won't be doing that," you yell back.

"Please! It's important." Jake yells back.

When you are in your room getting all your stuff and paperwork pilled together. You find yourself opening your closet and pulling out an outfit that you could imagine wearing if you were an accountant.

You also spend several minutes too long wondering what would happen if you went back downstairs in the most provocative lingerie you own. After all, Jake didn't specify which type of accountant to dress up as. You wondered if it would be tempting to Jake. Could you provoke him into falling into lust with you? Tempt him enough that he took you on the dining room table on top of all the Tax paperwork? Jake has expressed attraction to women before, so there must be at least some part of him that is at least a little attracted to you.

You smash down your thirsty thoughts and try to screw your head back on straight before it can drift too much off on track. When you get back downstairs, Jake is still at the table. You dump all your stuff on an empty spot there.

Jake looks up from his computer and smiles at you, quirking an eyebrow. Then, Jake speaks to you teasingly, "And here I thought you might dress up as the other type of accountant you were telling me about."

Your brain has no choice but to start short-circuiting, and you open and close your mouth twice. Jake starts shuffling through your paperwork, looking at what you have brought him.

"I ordered us some pizza too," he says before you get out a proper response or say anything teasing back to him.

"Yum. I'm excited," you tell him sliding into a seat and opening up your own laptop.

He stops his shuffling and examination of the papers to level you with a serious look. "Thank you for indulging me, by the way."

"Anything for you, Jake," you tell him and mean it. Unfortunately, the way you feel about your roommate is rapidly spiraling out of the tight control you tried to keep it in.

"I like when we do fun things like this together," Jake says to you, grinning.

"Me too," you tell him. Then add, "Only you would find taxes fun, though, Hangman."

"I am about to show you just how fun taxes can be and how you can get a great return," Jake says, taking your words in stride.

Jake does your taxes almost entirely by himself, only asking occasional questions. He also then organizes all of your paperwork in an extra accordion binder he has. The taxes aren't fun, but spending time with Jake is.

"Thank you," you say to Jake daring to press a soft, affectionate kiss to his cheek. You linger for a moment, the prickle of his end-of-day stubble ticking your lips, but you don't mind it. When you pull back to gauge his reaction, Jake looks almost pained and upset. You worry for a moment that even just a cheek kiss could make him react this way. You briefly thank god you didn't actually try to seduce him earlier.

"Always, anytime." He finally says. However, Jake is now glaring down at his keyboard and not looking at you.

"I hope it wasn't too much trouble," you venture, confused by this mood shift.

"Sugar?"

"Yes, Jake?"

"I don't think you should pay so much rent."

"What?"

"Listen," he runs a hand through his hair, pushing it all out of sorts. "I just don't think it's fair for you to pay so much."

"Of course, it's fair. I live here," you explain.

"Yeah, but no. I get BAH, and I don't have any student loans from school. Plus, the Navy pays me plenty as an officer. I was paying for this place all alone before you moved in anyways."

"I'm not going to pay less rent because you saw my financials and feel bad." You tell Jake quietly, trying not to actively become upset.

"Please don't be so stubborn," he pleads with you.

You cross your arms over your chest, "Take your own advice."

"I'm the one being stubborn?"

"Yes! You are. You are the most stubborn man I have ever met."

Jake's frown deepens, and that sad look in his eyes at your words starts to break through to you. Then he responds, "I'm sorry. I guess I'll try and work on that."

Jake starts meticulously putting things away into different folders. He moves through each of his piles on the table and doesn't spare you a second glance. It leaves a crushing feeling in your chest.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you."

"There is no need to apologize. I'm the one who is sorry." Jake says, shrugging off your apology.

"No, you don't need to apologize. I understand why you said what you did. I know you were trying to be sweet." You start to say but are cut off.

"I wasn't trying to be sweet."

"Oh my god. Okay, fine, trying to be nice, then," you say, rolling your eyes.

Jake sets down the folder he is currently holding, and it thumps a little bit on the table. The force and loud sound make you flinch.

"I'm not sweet, nice, good, or kind. Okay? I'm not any of those things. I call things how I see them. I look at facts, figures, and numbers. Then I run calculations and act accordingly."

"And how is it mathematically possible that me paying less rent possibly works out for you, Jake? You will be losing money." As he shakes his head, he huffs at your words a little bit like they are funny.

"You could do a lot and make a lot of gains if you paid less rent, and I don't mind picking up the extra amount. You might be one of the few people I haven't hated living with. I don't want you figuring out you need to live somewhere cheaper and moving out on me. So, I'm not being nice. I'm being a selfish asshole." Jake clenches his fists hard, and you see his knuckles start to turn paler. With a deep breath, he relaxes and shrugs. Loosening the tight coil of his muscles, Jake gives you a curt tight lipped smile with a nod. "I'm just a selfish asshole, okay?"

"Please stop. Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true," he says, rolling those beautiful eyes at you.

"It's not true. Also, I would prefer if you don't use the word selfish around me, please." You say in a surprisingly steady voice. You don't really want to get triggered right now, and you could only hope that you wouldn't have to explain triggers to Jake. It takes him one moment to think and another to process before he says anything.

"Oh fuck. I'm so sorry. I won't use it again." Jake promises, no questions asked. His words blow up a balloon in your diaphragm, making it feel like your breath is about to catch. Then he adds on, "If there are any other words…" He looks around and grabs a loose pen and one of his notebooks. Jake slides them across the table to you. "Write them down. Maybe? If you can."

The warmth Jake inspires in your chest is unparalleled and drowns out anything you can think of aside from how endearing he can be and how fond you are of him. Jake doesn't take the lack of response from you well.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes again. You spring from where you had been sitting, walking slowly and deliberately toward him. You make sure to give him plenty of time to protest and say something.

Jake looks steadily back at you. However, he looks like he is preparing himself to be slapped or punished, holding perfectly still. Instead, though, you wrap Jake in a tight hug. He is stiff as a board beneath you. After a long moment, as you consider pulling away, Jake relaxes and wraps his arms around you. They are wrapped loosely at first but then tighten in small intervals until Jake is practically clinging to you.

"You are so good," you whisper to him, a little dazed. You are almost stunned by how desperately Jake tries to pretend otherwise.

"Don't say that," Jake whispers in a broken voice, hugging you a bit tighter.

"Too good." You left the words for me unsaid, but you felt them.

"I'm really not."

"It's okay if you don't see it. I see it for you. I'll make sure everyone else sees, too," you tell Jake curling your hands into a fist in his shirt.

He doesn't say anything but keeps holding you tightly. You don't know how long the two of you stay embraced like that until Jake finally eases his grip on you, and you reluctantly pull away from him as well.

He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Please stop paying so much in rent," he requests again.

"That will not be happening, Hangman."

"So stubborn." He sighs. Jake kisses your forehead again. He leaves his lips lingering, and you start to count the breaths memorizing how warm his lips are. Three breaths later, he is pulling away. Jake grabs his laptop and a stack of folders heading upstairs without another word to you.

You stare after him for a while, trying to parse out the mystery Jake presents, and coming up a bit short, just like you always did. He is one of the most outwardly confident men you have ever met. Yet, other times, Jake is the first person to make a self-deprecating comment about himself. You swallow down how much you desire more from him, wishing for more, knowing you can't and shouldn't have it.

🏡🧩🏡

You and Jake were lounging on the couch. He was scrolling on his phone, avoiding going to the gym, half-heartedly trying to convince you to go with him. You were also scrolling your phone while deflecting Jake’s offers.

That was when your doorbell rang, followed by heavy knocking. You and Jake both look up at each other. He raises his eyebrows, and you just shrug, having no idea who could be at the door. Jake looks back to his phone, clearly ready to ignore it, when the doorbell rings twice more, and the pounding on the door gets louder. Jake sighs and gets up, walking across the house towards the noise.

“Hold your horses out there!” Jake yells towards the door before opening it.

You wait for a moment, trying to hear who it is, curious about who would be so rude and what they needed. However, you don’t hear anything from where you are on the couch. So you stand and follow Jake into the entry hallway.

“Sir, I am going to have to ask you to leave.” You hear Jake say. He is standing at his full height in the door frame.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You hear from on the other side of the door.

Nervousness shoots through your whole body hearing that voice. Anxiety immediately pops up, and your stomach drops. You know that voice. You have heard it a thousand times before. Why was he here? How was he here?

“I asked you to leave, Sir.”

“Just tell that little bitch that —”

Jake steps further forward onto the front porch. “Now, we don’t speak about ladies like that where I am from. And I’m going to ask that you act accordingly while at my home, Sir.” Jake cuts him off with that well mannered southern military niceness.

“I don’t give a fuck where you are from.”

You flinch at his tone of voice, feeling bile rise up in your throat. You lean against the wall slapping your hand over your mouth, trying to prevent yourself from throwing up.

“I asked you politely to leave. I won’t ask again. I can call you a taxi or an uber. But don’t you dare take one more step on my front porch.” Jake says in a deep tone. You are hit with the sudden, horrifying realization that he is going to hurt Jake, and that is something you just won’t let happen.

You are trying to go through possibilities in your head. Anyway, this could shake out; it would be bad for Jake. Jake would either get hurt and get in trouble, or he would kick ass and gets in worse trouble. This would end badly; either way, Jake is going to get in trouble, and it would be your fault. You would be responsible because you caused this situation. Jake was going to pay the consequences all because he was trying to protect you. You were roommates, so Jake must think he has some obligation to protect you.

You feel swamped in stress knowing how easily Jake can escalate a situation and provoke someone; sometimes, all it takes for him is one well-placed smile. That stress is finally what unfreezes you, and you stumble towards the front door.

Jake’s large, broad form still mostly hides your view of the other side, but you cautiously approach and set your hand gently on the back of his shoulder. You feel how tense Jake’s muscles are under your hand and can see it in the line of the back of his neck.

“Sugar, I’m not going to tell you what to do,” Jake says in a deep voice. He doesn’t budge an inch or look back toward you. “But I would like to suggest that you go back inside. I have this handled.”

You want to cry. You want to cry for so many reasons: cry because you are in this situation, that you have to deal with this again, that you feel so small. However, you mostly want to cry because Jake “Hangman” Seresin is such a good man. It’s startling sometimes, not because it’s really unexpected, but rather that it is so completely and bluntly genuine.

Having Jake here defending you, trying to protect you from the person who has probably scared you most in your life, it feels so silly to pretend like you don’t have feelings for him, to pretend that you aren’t more in love with him than you ought to be.

The realization doesn’t really feel shocking; it is closer to acceptance. A given truth that is part of your life now. An empowering truth that swells in your bones like a swift tide, filling up the spaces that have been empty for so long.

You love Jake more than you are scared. The warmth of affection towards him is so hot it burns out the freezing ice in your veins and the numbness in your fingers. You love him, and you will be damned if you let Jake be hurt, touched, tainted, or affected by this man who has hurt you. It seems cliché that loving someone like this is enough for you to finally break through the barrier of fear you have lived your whole life in. However, now it just feels so simple.

Your heart is beating hard. The adrenaline is pumping through you so strongly that you can hear it echoing in your ears. Your hand slides up Jake’s back to his bicep, and you give him a gentle push. Jake shifts with the movement. He slides to the right so you can finally fully see the front porch. However, he doesn’t move enough that you are fully exposed. Jake’s body is still partially concealing you from view.

Then you hear your name, and your attention snaps away from its hyper-focus on Jake. You turn it forward and brace yourself. You drift your eyes to the ground, landing on the feet of your visitor, staying there for a minute before meeting his burning eyes.

“Hello, Dad.”

“Ah, so she is here,” your father says, throwing his hands up and glaring at Jake. You can smell the booze on him from the doorway. It makes your stomach turn. You resist the urge to wretch, squeezing your hand, which is still on Jake’s bicep. He flexes, and his bicep digs into his shirt as your nails also dig in. You don’t like those angry, hateful eyes on your Jake. Jake doesn’t budge an inch or react to your nails on his skin.

“What are you doing here, Dad?” You ask him. Your hold on Jake acting like an anchor point for you.

“You don’t bother to answer my texts or anyone else’s calls and texts. Just because you moved out doesn’t mean you get to be a selfish bitch” your dad spits out.

“I’ve been pretty busy,” you defend yourself in a small voice.

“Oh, I bet you have been so busy. What are you doing these days?” He growls at you. “You know it doesn’t really count as moving out if you are spreading your legs to pay for it.”

You flinch, your hand falling from Jake’s arm and balling into a tight fist at your side. You hate how easily he can make you feel small, even when you are angry.

“Watch your mouth,” Jake hisses, rejoining the conversation. You glance at him, and Hangman is shaking with contained rage. You know this is not a good situation; anytime, someone could blow up.

“You should go inside, Hangman,” you tell him gently.

“Absolutely not,” Jake responds instantly.

“So you are playing the part of a pathetic little whore wife for this pretty boy.” Your dad says, cutting in.

You grit your teeth as he continues on. “Come on. I thought you gave up pussies after our talk when you were in high school.”

With the reminder of just what he is referring to, You are overcome with anger, and you finally can’t take it anymore. You recognize his words for what they are, a direct bait at Jake and undercutting you. It makes you so angry you start shaking. Tears burst from your eyes, trying to let off some steam bubbling inside you. It boils up, so you can’t take it anymore, and you whisper, “Shut up.”

“What?” Your dad asks, clearly shocked. You take a step forward fueled by your anger.

“Shut the fuck up.” You pronounce each word slowly. Then continue on, “I’m tired of this. You don’t get to be mean to me and still expect a relationship with me. You don’t get to hit me, yell at me, and abuse me just to show up at my house on your bullshit. And you sure as fuck don’t get to say anything about Jake.” You suck in a rapid breath, the words fueling the fire in you. Your angerburning brighter with every word.

“You made me think that kind, decent men didn’t exist, Dad, but Jake is good. He isn’t a pretty boy. He is smart, sweet, strong, and kind. I will not hear you say one more thing about him. Ever.” You punctuate the sentence with a jab of your index finger at him. He looks like he might be cowed, and before you can even finish a prayer that he will be done, the fire in his eyes lits again.

“You could have at least found someone who stands up for you. A real man.” Your dad isn’t even looking at you when he says it. Instead, he is staring at Jake.

“That’s a rather rude thing to say about an active duty Naval Officer,” you hiss. Your dad takes a step back, his eyebrows raising, reexamining Jake. He shifts his weight between his feet nervously.

“You aren’t welcome at our home. So leave and crawl back into the bottle you drank before coming here. Don’t come back, Dad. I don’t want to see you.”

You try to force your body to relax, but the adrenaline is still pumping hard in your veins. So, you start to walk backward back into the house. Jake still hasn’t taken his eyes off your dad, and he makes no move to come with you back into the house.

“Jake?” You ask.

“Just give me a minute, sweetheart. I need to have a talk with your old man here and make sure that he makes it home.”

“I don’t want him near you.”

Your dad still looks blown away by this turn of events. Like he is scrambling to put words together. He keeps looking back and forth between you and Jake.

Jake breathes out heavily through his nose. He turns his head enough to glance at you. Whatever he sees on your face must break his resolve. Jake clenches his jaw, and you watch the muscle flex once, then twice. After that, he rolls his shoulders, and it’s like Hangman is physically able to just shrug the tension of the situation off.

“Get home safe, Sir. I suggest doing so soon. MAs are known to drive down our street.” Jake says it in a light, easygoing tone, border lining on cheery. Then, plastering that practiced, perfect smile on his face, Jake nods his head toward your dad and comes back into the house.

Jake closes the door but doesn’t move, staring out the frosted window on the front door. His body is tense again, standing rigidly at his full height. You are still shaking from anger. You slump against Jake’s back, letting your body weight shift into his. One of his arms bends backward a bit awkwardly, sitting on your waist. His large palm is burning hot. You can feel it through the fabric of your clothes. Then Jake’s fingers flex to give you a small squeeze of reassurance.

When Jake finally does move, it is just to turn away from the door and wrap you tightly in his arms. You enjoy the warmth of his strong embrace, feeling exhausted as the adrenaline starts to fade. Jake is still shaking, though.

“He’s gone,” Jake says into the crown of your head. You let a little sigh escape you, feeling a bit more of the tension release.

“Good,” you manage to tell him.

“I wanted to defend you. I wanted to slam his face so hard into the porch that he wouldn’t ever be able to open his mouth again. Wanted to tell him how you are—”

“I’m glad you didn’t,” you cut Jake off before he can continue. You don’t want to know what he thinks about you right now. You can’t handle whatever words could spill out of his mouth next.

“I’ll make sure he never comes back here,” Jake says, his voice dropping, and you feel the rage contained in him, the subtle shake and heat coming from how tense he is.

“I don’t want him near you. If something happened to you because of him….” you trail off. Your hands wander the expanse of Jake’s back in an almost soothing motion. However, you don’t know who it is soothing more, you or him. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”

He takes a deep breath and then releases it in a heavy sigh. “What if you just give me his full name and social security number? You wouldn’t have to know about anything else.”

“Jake,” you whisper in a tone that is almost reminiscent of amusement.

Jake sighs again. He draws back from your hug and cups your face. He swipes his thumb across your cheekbone, wiping away the tears that have been lingering.

“You are the kindest, most compassionate person I have ever met,” Jake whispers. Considering how he is looking at you with a glimmer in his eyes, it’s clear the emotions of the situation are still running rampant. That look, paired with how he is holding you, makes you think Jake might be about to kiss you.

“No, No. Stop.” You don’t know if you are trying to ask him not to kiss you or to stop talking. Either way, you feel like you might explode if this interaction isn’t over soon.

“Yes,” Jake says. “Let me, please.”

His thumb is still tracing along your cheek, and you can’t help yourself from leaning a tiny bit into his palm. An action that momentarily freezes his thumb before it picks up steadily again. Not hearing an explicit no from you again, Jake continues on.

“That man has no say over you. Who you are is so stunning. You never deserved to be treated the way you were. I am so sorry you ever had to go through that. I am so sorry he showed up here. You don’t owe him a single second of your time or attention. You are valuable. You are amazing. He is trying to make you small because he sees how good you are.”

A shudder racks through your body, hearing Jake’s words, and fresh tears start to fall unprompted from your eyes. As soon as they do, though, Jake pushes them away. “I am so proud of you for getting away from him. You are so strong and brave. It makes me awed. I’m so glad that you moved in here. You are…” Jake doesn’t finish the sentence, he seems to lose his train of thought. His mouth parts a little bit, and his eyes flash down to glance at your lips.

Jake is going to kiss you, and it might possibly be the worst thing that could happen. If he kisses you right now because of your dad, you know you might break into a million different pieces. You don’t want Jake to kiss you for any reason but pure desire and affection. You don’t want him to kiss you in comfort, or pity, or convenience, or as an outlet. You don’t want him to kiss you just because emotions are running high from the incident that just happened. Most of all, you don’t want Jake to kiss you and not mean it. You don’t want him to kiss you without the intention of kissing you again.

So, even though you are desperate to feel his lips, and memorize their shape, how they feel against yours. Desperate to discover what he tastes like, curl your fingers in his hair and take comfort in the form of his body. You know you can’t, it has the power to break you, and you already feel so broken and exhausted.

You cover the hand Jake has on your face with your own and pull it away. However, you don’t immediately let go holding his large palm. Hangman takes your hint and steps backward, giving you a little space so that he is pressed against the door again. You decide to thread your fingers with his. Jake’s skin is still almost hot to the touch in your hand.

“Thank you, Jake,” You finally say, meeting his piercing green eyes again. You squeeze the hand you are holding. He gives you a tight nod and then tips his head upwards, so he is looking at the ceiling. Jake rests his head against the door as well and closes his eyes.

You observe him for a moment, then you go to release the hand you are holding. Jake stops you, though, his hand tightening as yours loosens, and you try to pull away. You give a little tug, and he tightens his fingers even more. Jake’s head is still tipped, and you hear him sucking in a deep breath before blowing it out.

“Please don’t let go,” he begs you. Jake’s eyes flash open again, and he is looking down his nose at you. “I just, I need you.”

You inhale sharply at his phrasing, and he sighs heavily. “I might do something terrible if you let go of me. If you don’t need me here, there won’t be anything to stop me.”

“You’re not going to do anything terrible,” You say, retangling your fingers with his. Jake’s hand flexes in yours, and he takes another big breath.

“I’ll make sure he loses our address and forgets it too. Make sure he doesn’t remember anything at all anymore. I’ll—”

“You’ll stay right here, Jake.”

He lifts his head so it isn’t tilted against the door anymore and stares down at you. He looks like he is holding on to every word you are saying to keep his sanity. His skin is flushed from anger, and his palm shakes slightly in yours. You were in awe he was able to hold back this reaction so long, remaining calm and collected throughout the entire encounter.

“You will stay here with me, Jake. I need you.”

“Yeah?” He asks shakily.

“Yeah. Need your help, Jake.”

There is a low rumble in his chest, almost resembling the hum it was probably supposed to be. You step closer to Jake, once again closing the gap between you.

“Tell me what you need.” It comes out as a demand, and he seems to realize that when he adds on a small quick “Please.”

You look at him then, trying to read his face and those eyes that haunt your dreams. You examine the creases and lines his face makes with the severe angry look he has plastered on. You take the time to observe how his hair is hazardously falling out of place for how many times he has run his hand through it. You don’t really find any of the answers you are looking for. You just find Jake. And Jake is an oh-so-wondrous thing to find.

You step closer to him and tug the hold he has on your hand again. His nose scrunches for a moment, and his frown tightens. His eyes lift upwards towards the ceiling again as his jaw clenches; he lets go of your hand. Jake’s hand falls heavily back until it hits the door making a smacking sound. You flinch at the sound but take another step forward, crowding Jake against the door. You lift your hand up to trace over his neck and then settle on his face, encouraging him to adjust his gaze back to you. He follows direction and leans into your hold, just like you leaned into his earlier.

“Need you to stay with me,” you start slowly, encouraged as Jake nods his head in a small jerk.

“I need you to leave the front door.”

He considers your words for a moment, then shakes his head. “I don’t think I can do that. I’m sorry, sugar. I need to protect you.”

“There is no one in the world I feel safer with than you, Jake.” He squeezes his eyes tightly closed at those words and pulls in a ragged breath. “So, you can’t leave me alone here.”

He nods again but still has his eyes closed. “Ain’t leaving. You need me.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Can I hold you?” Jake asks, then once again remembers his manners throwing out another small, please.

“Yes, please,” you whisper. Jake doesn’t waste a moment before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you snuggly against him. The change of angle causes your hand to slip from his face, so you wrap it around his neck instead, your fingers drifting against the short hairs there. You go to wrap your other arm around his waist but instead awkwardly hit the front door. You hiss out a small breath at the momentary pain.

Jake responds to the sound. He starts walking forward, making you walk backward. Walking while he is wrapped around you proves to be difficult, and you stumble a little. That seems to be all Jake needs; he wraps his arms under your ass and lifts you.

You are terrified at the concept that Jake is going to try to carry you, and you open your mouth to protest. However, with only one small grunt that honestly sounded more like pure sex with how low and husky it is, Jake is carrying you down the hallway. You wrap your arm around his neck more securely, adding a second one for more leverage.

Jake doesn’t stop to set you on the couch like you had expected. Instead, he continues up the stairs and right into his room. He sets you on his bed gently, and you unwrap your arms from his neck, letting him pull away. Jake goes back to the door of his room, closes it, and clicks the lock into place. You raise an eyebrow at his action.

"That’s rather presumptuous, Hangman.”

“What?” He looks at you confused before he looks back at his door. “Oh no, I’m sorry. I wasn’t, I’m not.”

You shush him motioning towards yourself to try and get him to come closer again. “I know.”

Jake comes back to your side. Now that you have been given the temporary clearance to freely touch him, you cannot stop yourself. Jake sits next to you on the bed, and you are scooting closer so that your thighs are flush side by side. Jake throws an arm across your shoulder, pulling you even closer to him.

“Do you need to talk about it?” He asks you softly. You let a hollow dry laugh at his question, your laughter starts to devolve until it’s nearly hysteric giggling. Jake takes it in stride, holding you close and his thumb drawing small soothing back-and-forth shapes. After you are almost breathless and heaving, you finally start to recover.

“I don’t want to talk about it, but I definitely need to. Not with you, though, Jake.”

“Why not me?”

“Because it’s the kind of fucked you talk to a therapist about.”

“I’m a great listener.”

“I know you are, but this isn’t your baggage to pack around and deal with, Jake.”

“Baggage? Sugar, that’s why we have the attic. If that isn’t enough space, or you fill it up. I’ll build a shed in the backyard.”

“What if that’s not enough room?”

“Then we have the garage. We’ll just park in the driveway.”

“You would give up your shop?” You ask, thinking of Jake’s favorite place in the house.

“Yup,” Jake says without hesitating. “And after that, well, I’ve never been too fond of the extra guest room anyway.”

“If that’s all not enough?”

“Then we’ll move. Or we go through it until we find some we can let go of.” Jake says, his free hand crossing his body to settle warmly on your knee.

“It’s not physical baggage.”

“I know it’s not.”

The feeling of affection you feel for him grows even more. Every time you think that there is no way possible you can fall further in love with him, Jake turns around and proves you wrong. He does some kind, funny, sweet, unexpected thing that makes you fall a little harder.

You lift your head and look at him. Jake’s eyes meet your own, the severe stormy look in them a little less present. He is a bit more at ease, no longer shaking with anger. You let your eyes fall to his lips. You briefly think you love him so much it might be worth the risk to shift forward and kiss him. That maybe it wouldn’t lead to disaster like you’ve convinced yourself it would.

“What’s your favorite comfort movie?” Jake asks, breaking you from your trance. You shift a bit further away from him but not far before giving him an answer.

The two of you watch your favorite comfort movie. You are cuddled into Jake’s side the whole time. The two of you had shifted back into the bed, cuddled close while watching the wall-mounted TV in Jake’s room. Exhaustion hits you like a wall as the adrenaline leaves your system, accompanied by the heat radiating off of Jake, the way everything smells like him, and his Tempurpedic bed; you relax more than you have in a long time.

As you start to drift asleep against Jake’s chest, his heartbeat has a steady, soothing rhythm under your ear. You think out of all the times you have dreamed of falling asleep with Jake in his bed, none of those fantasies come even close to how good it actually feels. None of your dreams prepared you for how safe you would feel.

Your dreams also didn’t prepare you for sneaking back to your room at three in the morning when you woke up. Or pretending the next day that nothing had happened. After all, nothing had happened except some tense moments and Jake getting a glimpse of your past. You don’t say anything, and he doesn’t, either. You catch him watching you closer than he would typically for the next few days.

More time starts to pass, and you are thankful that nothing was risked or changed between you and Jake or has affected you as roommates. There are only the slightest moments when both of you are much more casual about physical affection. Hugging Jake was now a commonplace part of your day, and you occasionally catch yourself daydreaming about what it felt like to fall asleep in his bed.

🏡🧩🏡

You had started to pick up what the signs were when Jake wasn't okay, and something was bothering him pretty early into moving in. He had some pretty obvious tells. However, something had been really really bothering him for a while now. He didn't say anything to you, but he didn't have to; Jake's mannerisms gave him away. Jake wasn't following his routine and had started obsessively cleaning.

The other night, he knocked on your door, bursting open seconds after you told Jake he could come in. Then Hangman had all but begged you to let him deep clean your room. When you told Jake no, he gave you a look like you just insulted his Babula and stalked out of the room. Half an hour later, he was back in your doorway, asking the same question phrased slightly differently. You had finally given in after his second time double-checking. However, you insisted that you helped and supervised his cleaning. Once you agreed, Jake had done his happy dance. It was so cute it managed to cover the embarrassment that was crawling in you at letting someone else, let alone the man you loved your roommate, clean your room.

The next day Hangman decided to reorganize all the bookshelves. First by color, then by genre, and even one time by the number of pages. His last reorganization was to put them all back to by author's last name. This was only after Jake talked to you for over an hour about the pros and cons of the Dewey decimal system in modern library science.

After the books, you come home, and there is a puzzle on the table. A 2500-piece puzzle of the painting Meeting On The Turret Stairs. Jake works on it constantly. Only stopping to go to work and the gym. For three days, he doesn't read and doesn't do his sudoku. Jake doesn't sit with you in the living room at night. Instead, he just works on his puzzle, blowing past his typical bedtime every night. Then he stops going to the gym, and a day after that, he cancels his weekly call with his niece. That's when you know without a shadow of a doubt that whatever is bothering Jake must be significant.

Finally, you can't bite your tongue or try to keep your nose out of his business anymore. The concern you feel is too much to handle. You had gotten up at 3 am for some water, and Jake was still puzzling at the table.

"How's it going, Sport?"

"No, I'm Hangman," Jake answers in a quiet voice.

"What?" you ask him, confused.

"Not my callsign," Jake mumbles to you. You squint and try to piece together what he means in your still half-asleep brain.

"You know someone named Sport?"

Jake just shrugs his shoulders, engrossed in his task. "There are worse callsigns to have."

"Like Hangman?" You tease him. Jake finally looks up at you when you say that. Jake's eyes are bloodshot, and he has a hurt look. The small frown, paired with his glassy tired eyes, makes you feel like you just kicked a puppy.

"Hangman is cool," Jake protests.

"Hangman is very cool," you tell him placatingly, holding up your hands in surrender.

"You don't actually think it's cool," Jake whispers, his tired eyes falling back to his puzzle. Jake sounds so sad about it that your feet are moving before your brain, and you are sliding next to him on the bench for the long side of the table.

"Hangman is cool," You say and then nudge him affectionately with your shoulder. "You are cool."

His lips quirk upwards from his frown before falling again. “Well, I am the Hangman.”

"How is the puzzle going?"

"Fine, good. I like puzzling."

"You have done other puzzles?" You ask.

"Yeah, I have a whole box full."

You hum at his words, tiredly wiping your eyes. "You should have been Puzzleman."

Jake's eyes flash over to yours, slightly worried. "Do not ever say that around Coyote."

"Hangman, It's three AM." He looks surprised to hear the time, and you watch him turn his wrist to confirm the time on his watch.

"Go to bed," You add softly.

"I like when you call me Jake."

"Then why do you listen better when I call you Hangman?"

"Hmm, maybe because that's the name I hear most often. Maybe because it's easy to be Hangman."

"Is it hard to be Jake?" You ask him gently.

Jake is quiet for a long moment after your question. Before answering, he sets the piece he had been holding back in its color pile. All he gives you is a whispered, "Sometimes."

You aren't sure what to say, so instead, you put a hand on his shoulder and squeeze it. "It's time for bed, Jake. It'll be here in the morning."

Jake nods his head, listening to you. You get the water you initially came downstairs for and wait until Jake starts up the stairs. Following behind him, you make sure he goes into his room. You aren't really eased about the situation when he shuts the door. However, you are glad he will at least get some sleep.

Before you go back to bed, you shoot your group chat with Marlee and Javy a text.

Have you ever seen Jake do a puzzle?

You wake up to texts from Javy and Marlee, both asking all kinds of questions like: what you meant? What kind of puzzle? With how many pieces? And, how long has Jake been working on it?

From the questions alone, you gather that your worries are correct and Jake puzzling is not a good thing. Getting out of bed, you make yourself presentable enough to venture out of your room and downstairs.

In the mid-morning light, you are once again greeted with the sight of Jake hunched over his puzzle. A steaming cup of tea sitting next to him, and Chris LeDoux playing from the record player.

"Good morning," you say.

"Morning, sugar," Jake says back. You are glad to get a response, but the worry is still gnawing at you. You start putting together your own morning drink, and your eyes keep drifting back to him.

"Jake, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good." He says, not looking away from the puzzle piece he is currently studying.

You stop leaning against the counter, taking your drink with you and walk over to his side. Jake is completing this puzzle concerningly fast; you notice examining his progress this morning alone. He keeps staring at the piece in his hand, unblinking even as you approach. You watch him for a few more moments before deciding it's time for you to intervene.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You pose cautiously. His eyebrows crease, and he still doesn't look away from the puzzle.

"About the puzzle?" he asks you in a hopeful tone.

"No, Jake. About what's bothering you."

He finally does spare you a glance, and you don't like how dull his green sea glass eyes are. The normally vibrant, mischievous glint isn't present, and they are slightly bloodshot and red, even after you forced him to get some sleep.

"It's fine. I'm fine. Just work stuff. I've got to finish this puzzle." He tells you, then looks away.

You frown at Jake's answer. Puzzles are supposed to be fun, and you don't think this is actually a healthy, cathartic activity for Jake anymore. You almost preferred his book reorganization or when he went to every door and oiled the hinges, the top and bottom hinges twice but the middle ones only once. When you asked why not the middle one twice? Jake had told you something about middle children that had made you laugh.

While Jake normally released stress through organization, order, and control. The frenzy and energy he has with this puzzle is different. This wasn't like the month after you moved in, and he decided to rearrange his shop in the garage. Jake had reorganized his tools, labeling where they all went. After that, he made you a booklet of where everything in the garage was located, just in case you wanted to use something. Jake was very genuine about it, too. As if he really believed you were about to start borrowing his screwdrivers, saws, wrenches, lathe, and various other tools.

Your frown deepens, and you pull out your phone, shooting a text to your group chat with Marlee and Javy. Answering some of their questions from the morning and shooting back a request of your own.

After texting with them for a few minutes, you set your phone down on the table, taking the spot next to Jake. He gives you another short look but doesn't say anything. You take a moment to look at the piece he has been staring at for over five minutes at this point.

Taking it gently from his grasp, you examine it yourself. A moment later, you place the puzzle piece into the correct spot. Jake ghosts over the piece you just placed and taps it twice as your hand retreats.

"You got to tap it into place," he tells you softly. Then Jake is back digging through his piles, looking for the next piece.

You help Jake with his puzzle for a little bit, pleasantly surprised at the textured surface of the pieces, enjoying how tactile they are. You know this must be a very expensive and nice puzzle. Any time you place a piece, you make sure to tap it twice for Jake. Each time you do, Jake gives a small nod of approval. The one time you forget, his fingers quickly find the piece again and tap it twice with a small annoyed huff. You don't try and coax Jake into a conversation again, simply enjoying just being with him.

Y'all's work is broken a while later by the doorbell ringing. The sound startles Jake, and he jumps in his seat and his head snapping towards the door. You place a hand on his shoulder again to try and ease the sudden tension.

"It's okay," you tell him quietly, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. "I'll go get it."

"No, I can get it," Jake says, starting to stand up. You know he doesn't like you to answer the front door anymore. He hasn't ever since your dad showed up unannounced. Jake has never explicitly told you he doesn't want you to answer the door. However, you have picked up on it because he has not let you answer the door once since the incident. One time Jake had even sprinted across the house to beat you to the door.

"Don't worry. I know who it is," you say. Jake gives you a concerned look but then nods a little bit. His eyes trail after you as you make your way to the entry hall.

You open the door to Javy's tall form and are immediately wrapped in a tight warm hug. You lean into his embrace, enjoying the comfort for a moment.

"Is it really bad?" Javy asks you in a low voice when you pull away from his hug.

You shrug but then follow it up with a nod. "Yeah. I mean, I don't know. Maybe not? But it's the worst I have ever seen."

Javy gives you another reassuring squeeze before he saunters into the house towards the living area. Jake's eyes are trained on the hallway, clearly waiting for you to come back. However, when he sees Javy, he blanches, dropping his eyes back to the puzzle. Jake's shoulders hunching tight almost up to his ears.

"Hey, Hangman," Javy hums.

"Machado," Jake says gruffly, fiddling with a piece.

Javy shocks you by not immediately going over to Jake. Instead, he meanders over to your TV. He shocks you even more by opening a drawer in the entertainment center and pulling out an Xbox. Javy starts hooking up the console, and you shift your eyes to Jake again.

He is still sitting there digging through his puzzle pieces. You aren't sure what to do. If you should leave the two of them alone, join Javy in the living room, or go back to the table with Jake. So instead, you end up in a weird middle ground lingering in the hallway. Finally, when Javy has everything set up, and the Xbox booted on, he goes over to Jake. Coyote sets his hands down so hard on Jake's shoulders that it jostles the blond a bit.

"Wow, buddy, this is a nice puzzle," Javy says casually.

Jake just hums in response, placing a puzzle piece and tapping it twice. Only answering once he picks up another piece. "It's a watercolor by Frederic William Burton. He painted it in — "

"It's time for a break, Hangman," Coyote says, cutting him off mid-sentence.

"Naw, you see this section," Jake gestures generally towards the entire surface area of the puzzle. "It's almost done."

"Nope, it's break time," Javy repeats more firmly.

Jake's shoulders hang, and it looks like it takes him physical effort to stand up from the table. Jake's joints and back audibly pop from the action, and he raises his hands above his head to fully stretch.

You try to root yourself in concern, not thinking of the flash of skin you saw where Jake's shirt rode up a bit. Jake blinks a few times, and when he finishes stretching, he turns to fully look at Javy.

"How long are you staying?" Jake asks, daring to glance back down at the puzzle. Javy snaps his fingers in front of Jake's face twice and then points aggressively toward the couch.

"As long as I want to," Javy responds with an upbeat tone and a wide grin. He gives a light shove, and Jake shuffles over to the couch. Jake looks at you as he walks, and you can tell that he feels betrayed.

"I'll leave you to it," you say, ready to retreat into your room.

Jake looks away from you then, and you don't like the flash of embarrassment on his face as he does. It's been odd seeing Jake so completely out of his element and uncomfortable in his skin the last few days. Embarrassed wasn't a look that fits well on Jake. It made you want to rush in and remedy the situation.

"You don't gotta go," Jake calls to you.

"Javy came over to hang out with you, Jake." You say plainly. You want to give them space to talk and hang out.

"Yeah, bro, feeling the love," Javy says jokingly. It earns him a sharp jab to his side from Jake. The action just makes Javy laugh, though. "Don't worry so much, Hang. Marlee is coming by later with dinner, and then all four of us will kick back, but right now, it's me, you, and the Master Chief."

"You'll hang out with us later, though? Or are you doing something tonight?" Jake asks, ignoring Javy.

"There is nothing I would rather do tonight than hang out with you," you tell him. Jake's eyes snap up from where they had drifted to the left, lowered just enough not to meet yours. The burning bright color in them is startling after the dull, distant look he has supported the last few days. You can't stop the words you say next, needing to try and back peddle. It takes a long beat before you say, "and Marls and Javy. I don't know if you've ever had Marlee's green chile enchiladas, but they are to die for."

"They are so good," Jake agrees enthusiastically and looks down at the controller he is holding for the first time. Javy then shoots you a smile with a thumbs up, and you are reassured enough that you head upstairs and into your room.

You hear Javy's voice behind you, "You know Marlee only cooks for two reasons."

You close your door before hearing Jake's answer and resist the urge to eavesdrop. A few hours later, you hear loud yelling and laughter from the living room. Then get a text from Marlee to send the boys to help her get the food out of her car.

The rest of the night is mostly light, and Jake almost passes for his normal self. He jokes with Coyote, eats two helpings of Marlee's enchiladas, and with you... well, with you, he is hot and cold. One moment Jake will be flirting with you in a heavy bravado, then the next, he falls into a quiet, contemplative silence. Javy has to herd Jake away from his puzzle three separate times. It gets easier to draw Jake back in every time; the last time only took a question directed toward Jake to draw him back to you guys.

It is a good night, and everyone seems happy at the end. Jake hugs Javy and Marlee goodbye and leaves you to walk your friends out. You let out a small sigh of relief, seeing Jake walk up the stairs and not back to the dining room table.

You talk with the couple for a few more minutes on the front porch, then hug them goodbye. You are thankful for them, to have such good friends who are willing to be a support system, for you, for Jake, and for their other friends too. It warms your heart, and it feels a lot like family.

Jake's puzzling is less frenzied after that night, and he starts to reign back in. He has full conversations with you again and goes to the gym after work as well. He follows Javy's rules that had been texted to you both and doesn't puzzle by alone again.

For the next week or so, Javy and Marlee end up in your living room in the evenings. Keeping Jake from becoming too obsessed, you also notice that he won't let Javy or Marlee touch his puzzle pieces. But when Jake does work on the puzzle, and you are home, he always invites you to join him.

Jake makes an effort to converse with you while working too. The conversations you two get into range from academic to childhood memories, favorites — books, movies, foods, bands, animals— funny stories, and anything else that would pop in your heads. Of course, each puzzle piece must still be double tapped into place, and you are meticulous about following that rule.

Puzzling in the evenings with Jake surprisingly becomes one of your favorite times of the day. Sometimes you would even just sit there at the table with Jake, scrolling on your phone while he works on the puzzle.

Hangman's presence is a comforting steady grounding force, so much so that you can only hope you provide half of that for him. You knew you were roommates, and Jake may not carry the same romantic feelings you do. However, you couldn't deny the plain platonic affection that poured from him, so much you sometimes think M aybe . Maybe he does feel more.

When you enter the kitchen, you see the puzzle is finished. You go to examine it and realize two pieces are missing. You feel a bit of worry creeping up in you, not sure how Jake will react to having lost pieces and being unable to complete the puzzle.

You start to look around, checking every chair and bench to make sure a piece hasn't fallen. You shine a light under the couch in case they slipped under there. Then you are flipping up the edge of the rug in the living room and trying to think of any other feasible place the pieces could have disappeared.

"What are you doing?" you hear, and you snap your head to see Jake standing on the other side of the couch, looking at you bemused.

"Sorry, I was just looking for your missing pieces," you say, straightening up and fixing the rug.

Jake quirks an eyebrow then he follows your gaze to the table where his puzzle is. Jake's mouth drops open, lips barely parted, and a soft "Oh." falls out like he didn't even make the sound intentionally.

"No luck so far, though. I'm sorry. I'm sure they will turn up. Only so many places they could have gone," You say, making sure to project an upbeat, positive tone and attitude.

Jake looks between you and the puzzle twice before suddenly you are graced with the rarest of Jake Seresin's smiles. It is one you have only seen a handful of times. It's different than his smirk and his confident panty dropping smile. It's not the smile that he gets when he laughs, and his eyes crinkle around the edges or the mouth wide open smile. It's not his practiced perfect smile he uses for pictures.

No, this smile is closed-mouthed, those pearly whites hidden from view. It's a quirk of his lips like Jake is trying to hold it back from showing it on his face but he isn't entirely successful. His bottom lip is tucked a little bit between his teeth as if he is physically trying to bite back the expression, none of which prevents Jake's dimples from popping up.

It's a smile that always leaves you a little stunned, and this is no exception. Not that there are many things about Jake that don't leave you feeling that way. This smile, paired with the soft look in his eyes, makes you want to melt into the floor.

"I have the pieces," Jake tells you then. It takes you a few moments to process his words.

"Oh, you do?"

"Yeah, I do," he says and pulls out a ziplock baggie from his pocket with the two pieces in it.

"That's great!"

"They weren't lost. I was saving them, actually."

"Saving them for what?"

"For you. Well, for us."

You don't think you are able to hide your surprise at his words. "For us?"

"Yeah. You know, so we can finish this puzzle together. We worked on it together. So, we should finish it together. Few things match the feeling of putting the final piece of a puzzle into place."

God, you want to kiss him. You want to grab his face and smash your lips against his. You want to taste him and thread your fingers in his short dirty blonde hair. The little fantasy starting to form in your brain is cut off by Jake walking over to the table.

You follow him there, and Jake sets the last two pieces on the table, letting you pick which one you want. Once you make your selection, Jake grabs the other one.

"Okay, on three," he tells you with a grin. At his countdown, you both place the pieces of the puzzle. Automatically you double tap your piece into place. Jake was right; it is an extremely satisfying feeling finishing the puzzle and seeing it whole for the first time.

Your gaze drifts over the puzzle, and you look up to see Jake staring at you instead of the finished piece. After a moment, you realize what is wrong. Your hand reaches across and gently nudges Jake's to the side. Then you tap Jake's piece twice, realizing that for the very first time, he seemed to have missed that compulsion of his. However, you knew it would bother Jake when he realized he had forgotten, so you make sure to complete the ritual.

Jake's gaze snaps down to the piece you had tapped for him. Then his knuckles purposely brush against the back of your hand, sending shivers up your arm.

"Thank you," spills from both of your mouths at the same time, which makes you laugh.

"Jinx," Jakes says in a rushed voice, making you laugh harder. That odd tension in the air between you two disappears.

You walk into the kitchen and grab a white claw from the fridge, bringing it back for Jake, handing it to him. Jake is a strict enforcer of the jinx soda pop rule. The two of you look at the puzzle for a few more minutes. Taking in the stunning painting, the yearning and sadness of it never fails to impact you.

While the two of you had been working on the puzzle, Jake had told you many different facts about The Meeting On The Turret Stairs. How it was a watercolor painting by Frederic William Burton, the poem it was based on, the era it was painted in, and its place in Irish art.

When you asked Jake more, he surprised you by knowing hyper-specific details and answers off the top of his head. Intrigued, you learned how he had double majored at Annapolis in Aerospace Engineering and History. However, because Jake was golden boy Midshipman Seresin, he had gotten away with his final history thesis being art focused. Hangman more than understood how to be charming when he needed to be.

"What now?" You ask him.

"What do you mean?" Jake asks, confused.

"What do we do with the puzzle?" you ask. It sounds much better than what you wanted to say. What now between the two of you? What were you going to do to keep spending time together?

"We take it apart." Jake shrugs.

"No," you gasp, horrified thinking of all the time you had put into the puzzle just to undo it and throw it back in the box.

"What else would we do?" Jake asks you. You think for a moment before smiling at your own idea.

"Let's Mod Podge it, and then we can hang it up. We have some pretty bare walls in the house, and it is a stunning piece of art," you suggest.

Jake doesn't even take a moment to think it over before saying, "I love that idea."

So, you two are driving to the craft store to get cardboard and Mod Podge. A week later, the puzzle has been cemented and hung on the wall in between your and Jake's rooms upstairs. After the puzzle is finished, Jake is back into his sudoku and his various other reading books. He still lingers near you in the evenings, waiting longer than he used to before retreating to his room for bed.

One night almost a month after you two had finished the puzzle, Jake brings the subject up again. You two are lounging on the couch, he had just gotten home from watching the Army-Navy game at a bar with some of his friends, and he is definitely a little bit tipsy.

"I am going to build us a puzzle table," is the first thing he had loudly declared, walking in the door.

You were instantly worried about why Jake might want to start a new puzzle. "Is everything okay?"

Jake doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues on. "A really nice one that opens and closes with velvet or something so we don't have to worry about losing pieces, and maybe I can even make it an adjustable height?" He is talking to himself more than to you.

You watch as he grabs a notepad and pencil out of a drawer. Then he slumps on the couch. Before you know what's happening or can stop it, Jake has his head on your lap and is sketching design ideas, potential measurements, and materials.

"How are you doing?" you ask him again, staring down at his face, unable to contain your enamored smile. Jake just nods his head and keeps sketching while mumbling.

You run a hand through his soft hair tentatively. It is a bit longer than usual right now, almost out of regulation. He will need to get a haircut this week, but the strands are so soft, and you can't help but enjoy that there is a bit more there to run your fingers through. His eyes instantly close, and he hums contently at your touch.

"Hangman?" you ask him almost teasingly, halting your movements.

"Yes, sugar?"

"Are you okay?"

He blinks his eyes open and looks at you. Their gleaming sea glass green color is a little glazed over and so very soft. His mirth is open and obvious to you. "I'm so great. Navy won."

"That's great. Go Navy." A wide grin splits his face wide, and Jake's eyes actually crinkle closed, hiding their unique color from you again.

"That's right, Honey. Ooh ahh!" Jake responds automatically, making you both laugh, and maybe you had been drinking a little bit of wine before he came home; perhaps you were warm from that, or maybe Jake was the most beautiful man you had ever seen. Your eyes lock with his, and your hands pull out of his hair. You let one drift trace his face helping him relax the furrow in his eyebrows.

"Why do you want to start a new puzzle?" You ask.

"No new puzzle. A new table." He corrects you. Jake taps his pencil on the notepad pointedly.

"For a new puzzle?"

"You liked doing a puzzle with me, right? Well, after the first bit, you liked it?"

"I loved it." The words slip out of your mouth before you can amend the sentiment to come off less forward.

"Me too,"Jake says and trails off for a moment. Then he continues asking, "So you would be open to doing another one with me? Just for fun this time, not my mental health." Jake doesn't say the last sentence with any bit of shame or embarrassment, which you admire. However, the vulnerability is obvious and glaring.

"Yeah," you confirm, once again having to run your fingers over his brow to relax his face.

"Perfect. I'm building the table, then. You can pick the puzzle this time."

You can't help but let your hands slip back into Jake's hair, and he returns to sketching on his notepad. It was a moment of quiet peace you knew you didn't ever want to let go of.

"Javy said that you don't like to do puzzles with other people, and that's what helps you pull out of the pit."

Jake's eyes don't leave his notepad, and he turns the page. You watch Jake start to scrawl the pros of a dovetail joint versus a dowel joint before he starts to draw it out as well. You almost don't think he will say anything back by the time he finally does.

"You aren't other people," Jake tells you, as he starts drawing in shading, which is completely unnecessary for anything beyond aesthetic. He bends the lines from a basic blueprint to a detailed drawing of a realistic table joint. It was distracting watching the engineer in him flow into the unexpected artist.

The idea that you ever had thought his talent for art and engineering were such radically different things was a bit funny. Now that you see him dance between the lines back and forth so elegantly that you understand it wasn't two competing sides of Jake. It was just him. It was how he worked and operated.

It was how he was Hangman and also Jake. It was how he could fill out sudoku then go to bed at 9 pm and how he could shoot pool until closing with the squad. It was how he was a cowboy and a pilot. It was how you wanted to cry a little bit, knowing he enjoyed you there, knowing you weren't like other people.

And you are struck with the thought that you don't ever want Jake to do a puzzle with anyone but you. You never want to see him sitting alone at three am with bloodshot eyes putting pieces into place again. And you don't even want to consider him explaining animatedly why he believes a piece goes in one color pile and not the one it was originally sorted to anyone but you.

You want to be selfish with Jake. You want to have him, and you want to keep him close, never letting go. Surely you could convince Jake to be yours. It was a selfish act that could be forgiven if you promised to cherish him. After all, there were worse things in the world than loving someone, so entirely the fact they might not love you to the same degree didn't hurt so much.

Jake flips to the next page in the notepad and starts to sketch out the living room. As he works, the living room table starts to look significantly different than your current one.

"Oh. It's for the living room?" You ask him.

At first, he just hums in response, but when he finishes rounding out a line, Jake lifts his pencil from the paper. It pauses there, poised and frozen, as he asks, "Do you want the dining table instead?"

"No." As you continue, the pencil falls back to the page, "It just wasn't what I was originally thinking."

"I could do a dining room table too. They could even be made of the same wood." Jake says. His green eyes broke from the page to glance up at your face for the first time in a while. He searches your face trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.

"Two puzzle tables?"

"Think of all the possibilities. We could do two puzzles at once." Jake gasps. You kind of hate the excited timbre that Jake's voice picks up at the idea, but you actually mostly love it.

"Just one puzzle at a time, please." You say, giving his hair a teasing gentle tug, ignoring the sharp inhale of his breath that immediately follows. You refuse to give away the unexpected thrill sent straight through your body that settles at your core. You have to consciously make sure your words do not fall out rushed, "I think it would be nice to have out here, comfier."

"I thought the exact same thing."

"Oh really?" You ask, amused.

"Yes, Ma'am. I've got two words for you, puzzle naps."

You huff a small laugh at him and bite your lower lip. He flips back to his first page of notes, where he had a small list of wood. He adds cherry to his list after oak.

"Juniper is really pretty," you suggest. He immediately starts to write down your suggestion with a little heart next to it. When Jake starts to shade in the heart, you feel like the one in your chest might actually burst out. Something very similar to butterflies was fluttering around in you, but it is much less nervous and rather born of pure fondness.

"Sounds beautiful. I'm sure it's perfect," Jake tells you.

"Let's pick one together, though. It should be our choice."

"No," Jake says, drawing an elegant oval around juniper. Then he goes back and strikes a straight line through the other options. "No one else has ever remembered to double tap."

Jake spends a few more minutes detailing the design before his eyes start to get sleepy, and his pencil marks become light and halting. It doesn't take much from you to encourage him to go to bed, just a whispered suggestion.

He stumbles up from the couch and places a kiss on your forehead. Jake puts his notebook on the counter in the kitchen. After that, Jake circles back to press a second lingering kiss to your forehead. You watch him go all the way around the house to double check the locks, the front door, the garage, and the back door. Finally, after sending you two finger guns, Jake drags himself up the stairs, humming Anchors Aweigh.

"Until we meet once more, here's wishing you a happy voyage home!" You loudly hear him sing. You listen to Jake as he hums his fight song while randomly peppering in other lyrics. When you finally hear him close his door, your mind makes a decision on the war it's been having.

You are going to do whatever it takes for Jake Seresin to agree to be yours. Potential consequences be damned; Jake is worth the risk.

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x reader #jake seresin x you #Hangman imagine #Slow burn #Roley Coley's writing #part 1 #Double tap #Hangman x you #house we share

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nycbaby21 · 8 months

Text

date crashing w/ Quinn

prompt: Jack and Luke crash your and Quinn's date

word count: 1.901

“Hey you guys are on your own tonight for dinner,” Quinn says grabbing water from the fridge and then walking into the living room joining his brothers. “What are you talking about,” Luke asks pausing their game as Jack protest,” hey I was winning you ass.” Luke laughs as he jokes,” Yeah sure you were Jacky.” Quinn shakes his head at his younger brothers taking a sip of his drink. “Quinny is taking me out for a date night,” I smile rounding the corner and plopping down on the couch throwing my legs in my boyfriend’s lap. He subconsciously moves his hands to begin rubbing them up and down. I smile at the small gesture and lean up and kiss his cheek. “Gross stop, What did he talk about pda in shared living spaces?” I roll my eyes at Jack’s joke tossing the pillow behind me at him.

“You promised us you were making that pasta thing tonight from TikTok remember Y/n,” Luke whined turning to face me and giving his best attempt at puppy eyes. I reach over and pinch his cheek,” I’m sure Jack will feed you Lukey.” The younger boy gasps and puts a hand over his heart,” I thought you loved me.” I laugh at his dramatics, which must be a Hughes-shared trait because Quinn can be the same way. “Luke you are nineteen years either eat what Jack cooks or do it yourself,” Quinn rolls his eyes. “Great so either starve or get food poisoning from Gordan Ramsey over here,” he huffs sinking into the couch. He kind of looks like a toddler who has just been told they couldn't have ice cream after dinner. “I do love you guys,” I say looking between the two boys,” that’s why I already made the pasta and put it in the fridge. Just reheat it later. You big babies think you can do that?”

“Our children are going to be absolute brats you know that right,” Quinn squeezes my leg getting my attention. I lightly smack his chest saying,” They will not be.” He laughs,” As much as you spoil these two, I can’t even imagine how you will spoil our actual children.” I roll my eyes at him and smile slightly. Even as a little joke, Quinn thought about us having kids one day. “Unpause the game,” I say ignoring Quinn who is poking my calves. The four of us hang out for a couple more hours until it’s time for us to get ready.

As I am getting out of the shower I hear voices in the hallway. I ignore them because I have learned with this group of guys that it’s best to mind your own business. I quickly throw on one of Quinn’s shirts and shorts starting to do my makeup. “I know it does kinda suck,” I hear Jack say. “I mean I know they want time together, I really do but I just miss them so much during the year mom,” he continues on with a big sigh. My lip immediately pokes out into a pout and he has my full attention now. “I know you do baby. You just have to understand they love you guys but every once in a while they want a night to themselves,” Ellen tries to help her son understand. “Yeah, I know. It’s just it would be different if it was Luke. I see him all the time, but I miss them. I miss Y/n just as much as I miss him. Maybe a little more because she cooks better than him,” he laughs and I hear Ellen join in. After a little, they end the phone call and I hear Jack make his way down the hallway.

“Hey J could you come here for a second,” I call out already thinking of the reward I am going to have to give Quinn for what I am about to do. The brunette boy tumbles in and jumps onto the bed. “Wait is it safe to be on here,” he asks raising his eyebrows suggestively. I laugh and throw one of my makeup brushes at him. “You’re good J,” I say locking eyes with him in the mirror. “So what are you guys doing tonight,” he asks twirling the brush around in his fingers. “Top Golf. Quinn is tired of being chirped for losing games, so he said we needed practice,” he looks at me as I speak. “Yeah, he always loses because he is such a boyfriend and partners with you. I mean this in the nicest way possible but you suck Y/n,” his eyes crinkle as he laughs at bullying me. I laugh and shake my head at him.

“I was thinking maybe you and Lukey could come and keep me company? Between the two of us, Quinn gets a little intense when he is trying to teach me things. Like, remember my first winter in with the family and him trying to teach me to skate,” I shudder at the memory. “Do I remember him making you cry or do I remember dad handing him his ass while mom taught you to skate,” he smiles at the memory. “See you know what I’m talking about.” We lock eyes again in the mirror and I see his soften. “Y/n we are fine really. I know you and Quinny haven’t had any alone time since last month when Cole, Trev, and I went to those races,” he sits up and comes to lean up against the dresser next to where I am sitting on the floor doing makeup handing me my brush back.

“I know you guys would be fine. As much as I baby you, I know the two of you are fully capable adults,” I do a quick swipe of lipgloss and close it. Turning and looking up at him,” You don’t have to obviously but I don’t know I kinda miss you guys while we are back in Vancouver. I even have a little countdown til you all play each other. The devils, ducks, kings, and habs.” His eyes light up at that and he jumps up to a standing position. “You sure Q won’t mind,” he asks excitedly. “Don’t worry I handle Quinny. Go tell Luke and you guys get ready. I can talk him into you guys crashing but not if he has to wait on you,” I say rushing the boy out. He gives me a fast nod and leans down to give my head a quick kiss. “Thank you. Love you,” he rushes out of the door yelling for Luke on his way out.

I walk down the stairs to find the youngest two brothers sitting on the couch. They looked like two kids waiting for their parents to load up the car for a Disney trip or something. “You look really pretty Y/n,” Luke smiles up at me. “Why thank you. I think you look very handsome. You both do,” I reach over the couch and give each of their shoulders a small squeeze. Before we could say anything else Quinn walks back in from outside. “Okay, I have the car warming up for you. Ready to head out,” he asks walking over and giving my forehead a chaste kiss. I nod and stand on my tiptoes to give his nose a small peck. He turns to his brothers waiting for a pda comment. They both just give him a smile and he throws his head back groaning. “Y/n are you serious,” he asks finally looking at me. “C’mon Q they miss you and want to spend time with us. You always complain during the season about how much you miss them so why can’t they tag along,” my words make a small blush rise to his cheeks. “Aw does Quinny miss us while he's all alone up in big Vancouver,” Luke jokes standing and walking over to us leaning against the back of the couch.

“Do you wanna come or not,” Quinn threatens the younger defensemen. Luke quickly throws his hands up in a mock surrender. Jack walks towards the door and looks at Luke,” Shotgun.” The two boys rush off outside and to the car. I could hear cursing and assumed one of them had fallen. I turn to Quinn and give him the sweetest face I could. “They do know there is no way you aren’t riding in front with me right,” he asks wrapping his arms around my body. I laugh and I nuzzle myself into his chest. “I know you wanted tonight to just be us, but you should have heard Jack on the phone with Mama Ellen. Q he was breaking my heart,” I say into his chest. “You know what? I hope our bratty kids get your big heart,” he smiles down at me. I pinch his side,” Stop calling our kids brats Quintin.” His laughs vibrate my whole body and he mumbles a quick sorry. “You look amazing by the way,” he dips down to give my lips a sweet kiss. “About time you said something. Was thinking Luke was gonna be the only gentlemen tonight,” I joke unwrapping myself from him and walking to the door.

As the night went on the four of us had a blast. The brothers having another friendly competition while I sit back and smile snapping a couple pictures and sending them to Ellen. “Can you guys please hurry up? I’m cold and want to get a hot chocolate,” I say gaining their attention. Luke quickly sheds his jacket and gives it to me while Jack goes to the concession stand grabbing me a drink. Luke goes to take his shot when Quinn comes over and sits down beside me. “I’m glad that you invited them. As much of a pain in the ass they are I really do miss them,” he says into my neck pressing his cold nose against my skin. I let out a small squeal and tried to push him off. This only makes him grab me and nuzzle in deeper. After my hot chocolate and Jack winning, we decided to head back to the lakehouse. Some of the other guys were getting in tomorrow so we had to get their rooms ready.

Not even ten minutes into our drive home, the two New Jersey Devils players were passed out and cuddled up in the back seat. I only turn back around when Quinn places his hand on my knee. “Thank you for today. You were a very good sport Q,” I smile lacing our fingers together. “As annoying as it is sharing you with them,” he starts and quickly glances at the two sleeping beauties,” but it’s the best gift to see how easily you fit in with them and how much they all love you,” he raises my hand to his lips. I let out a small giggle because his facial hair tickled the back of my hand. “Well if that is the best gift I don’t have to worry about how I was going to reward you for letting them come,” I say squeezing his hand. “Okay now let’s not be hasty Y/n. I think I was so good I deserve a reward, don’t you,” he asks giving me a look. I roll my eyes at him smiling and give him a nod. He sped up a little trying to get back as fast as possible.

#nhl imagine #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes #jack hughes #luke hughes #vancouver canucks #nycbaby21works

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authoreetea · 5 months

Text

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐬

pairing ; conrad fisher x reader

summary ; the three summers that connected you to conrad

warning ;

note! lover inspired 😛 i tried something new and wrote it in reader's pov or your pov, hope u like it!

⎯⎯ ୨ ୧ ⎯⎯

🩷🎀

The coastal town of cousins was alive with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore while the salty sea breeze brushes through my hair, it was the beginning of summer and I wasted no time going to the beach of cousins.

I sat there on the sand, reading cheesy and cliche romance books that twelve year old me longed for such love, which was then interrupted by a group of guys laughter.

I looked up to see three boys, one with curly hair, another with black hair and pale skin. Yet all I cared about was the boy with light eyes and messy hair.

With his messy hair and sunkissed skin, and the way the sun shone in his eyes. The way he pushed his glasses up every time it kept slipping off, or the way he runs his fingers through his hair.

I was shocked when they all walked towards me. I looked up at them confused, "Hi?"

"Hi, can you join us? we were about to play catch but we're short one person, and Conrad here was too shy to ask." The one with black hair asked, receiving a nudge in his rib.

"He thinks you're pretty! What's your name?" The curly haired one exclaimed, he seemed to be slightly younger than the other two. Red rushed to my cheeks as the two bicker in front of me.

I smiled at him, my cheeks red as roses. "I'm y/n, what about you guys?"

The three boys introduced themselves, the curly headed one as Jeremiah, the dark haired one as Steven.

Conrad, as I'd come to know him, he shared the magic of Cousins beach with me on all three summers we connected.

🧸🖼️

The summer when I turned 15, unfolded like a delicate dance between Conrad and I. Underneath the starlit sky, at beach bonfires and friendly gatherings, our eyes met in fleeting glances.

Cousins beach became a place where I visited every summer, thanks to my father and his intentions to bring some fun into the family. Conrad became my best friend since then, so did his family.

It was a battle in my mind everyday as I had developed a crush on my best friend, each day at Cousins it grows. Our feelings danced around each other with each step echoing each other's unspoken thoughts.

It was a really hot day at cousins beach and you were dying to go out and buy some ice cream. Just as you were about to call Belly to buy some, your mother stepped into your room.

"Hey honey, Conrad's downstairs, I think he wants to go to the boardwalk." She says with her warm smile that always insinuates something else.

I try to pretend annoyed and roll my eyes but my red cheeks and smile gives it away. "Stop with that look, you always do that with Conrad. I swear we're just friends, mom." I say, but my mother knew better.

"I didn't say anything, sweetie!" She says, laughing at my expense. I bid my goodbye and walked downstairs to greet Conrad.

He was there, by the living room with his tousled hair and a white tee and khaki shorts. He smiled up at me, adjusting his glasses as he walked his way to where I was.

"Hi connie, you ready to lose at all the games?" I grin, teasing him. He laughs at me as he ruffles up my hair.

"You wish, sunny." he said proudly as I swatted his hand away from my head. The nickname was something he created the day we watched the sunset together as I read him my Pride and Prejudice book.

I like that he keeps the memory close to heart the same way I do. Conrad was always thoughtful, he wasn't great at communication but he showed it in ways many couldn't.

At ring toss, Conrad was determined to win. Our tongues were stained red and blue from the slushie and snow cones we've had through the afternoon.

"Congratulations! You have won a price, which one would you like?" The guy said in a monotonous voice as Conrad finally won a game of ring toss. He thinks thoroughly before choosing the cutest little bear with a pink ribbon stitched by its ear.

He walked his way to where I stood and handed me the light brown bear with its pink ribbon. He sheepishly smiles, "Here, I got it for you."

In that moment I almost melted in a puddle of admiration. "Really? Thank you, Connie!" I said gleefully

He grins at my reaction, unbeknownst to me that he was giving me such an adoring look. "It reminded me of you, you know, with the way you always have a ribbon in your hair."

That alone made me feel all warm, Conrad is observant and he recognizes everything around him, and he noticed the ribbons in my hair.

🍒 🌅

I felt that this summer would be different. I wanted to make it different.

This was the summer I would admit to my feelings and tell Conrad, my best friend, that I was in love with him. I've read books about falling for your best friend, and I hoped it wouldn't ruin our friendship.

It was the night of the fourth of July, everyone was celebrating. Susannah hosted a lovely gathering at their house, and I had planned to confess to Conrad this summer.

Conrad was the one constant in my life, he was always by my side. His presence became a steady anchor, that makes everything in my life a little bit better.

Our group, the younger people, all went to the beach and had a little get together. Secrets were spilled, so were alcohol, and laughter was shared.

Conrad was right next to me, he had his arm over my shoulder as Steven told a funny story from the country club.

"You should've seen his face!" Steven says, and everyone laughed louder. Taylor played some music and ushered everyone to dance, and of course Steven was up in a heartbeat, inviting Taylor to dance with him.

I smiled at them, winking at Taylor. Conrad stood up and grabbed me to stand up. "Hi, dove." He said, a mere whisper.

We were so close to each other that I almost threw up, luckily I did not. "Connie, do you want to dance?" I say, eyeing him with a playful smirk on my face.

He chuckles, "I wanna talk." He said, a smile playing at his face.

It was night time, 24 minutes past nine pm of July fourth, a summer I will never forget.

"What's up, Con?" I say, brushing the sand away with my feet as I waited for him to say something.

"Look up, the stars look really captivating tonight." He says, but he wasn't even looking at the stars.

looking up, I smiled. "It really does."

"Just like you."

With that, I almost gave myself whiplash when I turned to look at him with reddened cheeks and wide eyes.

Conrad chuckles, as he reaches for my hand and threads his fingers through mine. "You know, the last few summers have been something special, hasn't it?" He pauses, looking down at our hands.

I nod, a smile forming on my face as I held onto his hand.

"Each day I spent with you I felt something more different, something that I can't quite put into words." He says, slowly inching towards me. I could feel my pulse quickening.

I sheepishly smile at him, "What do you mean, Conrad?"

He smiles, his hands coming near my face to tuck the stray piece of hair on my face. "I mean... I've fallen for you." Conrad says

His ocean eyes were staring into my soul, unknowingly our bodies were getting closer and closer.

I looked up at him, my eyebrows furrowed together. He continues, "I've fallen for you head over heals, y/n/n."

I took a deep breath about to say something when colors of red, white, and blue were in the sky.

Fireworks, I smiled. I had the biggest grin on my face as I looked at Conrad again, cupping his cheeks and pulling him into a kiss.

He was shocked at first but then quickly kisses me back, his arm entangled around my waist.

"I've loved you three summers now, Connie. And I want them all."

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joshs-big-toe · 5 months

Note

do you write fics? i NEED someone to write more josh futterman fics. but like where’s he’s subby yk? i just need that man so bad 😭😭

im not great at writing, but i have been WAITING for a request to write a fic! i am not used to writing in second person so if there's an accidental "i said" or something along those lines forgive me!

cw: josh futturman, sub-josh, fem!reader, p in v, oral sex, descriptive smut, fluff in the end

1911 words

"josh!" you called from down the stairs, not getting a response from him. grumbling, you stomp up the stairs, cursing to yourself under your breath. the dumbass was addicted to this video game called Biotic Wars. at least you think that's the name of the game. it frustrated you. it felt like you haven't had a friend in months because of his obsession with this game. finally, your foot hit the top step of the second floor. "josh?" you called out again, not as loudly. you listened, hearing a soft groan come from behind his door. you hesitantly walk toward his bedroom door, stopping to listen for a moment.

"oh, shit, y/n..." you hear him whine on the other side of the door. you gasp and cover your mouth, surprised by the sudden mention of your name. slowly, you crack your door open slightly. you can't see much, but you can see his shoulder shaking and his jeans down around his ankles. your eyes widen as you feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, as well as a heat pooling between your legs.

"j-josh..." you stutter out while opening the door wider, catching a glimpse of him stroking his dick in a quick manner before his head shot toward you, panic settling into his eyes.

"s-shit!" josh jumped out of his gaming chain, causing it to roll away from him. he reached down, fumbling with his jeans and boxers, trying to pull them up quickly. he tripped, causing him to tumble onto his shelf, falling and knocking it off the wall, causing a loud crash to echo in the room. you watched the chaos unfold in front of you, holding in a laugh. "what," he paused to clear his throat. "what are you doing here?" josh stood up, turning to look at the mess of broken shelf and objects laying on the floor. his hair was messy, falling into his eyes. defeated, he turned back to look at you, his dark eyes looking nervous, chest heaving as he was trying to catch his breath.

"we um, we agreed to hang out today, remember?" a clear flush of pink was dusting my cheeks.

"is it 4:00 already?" he asked, walking over to his desk and looking at the time on his phone. he let a groan and ran his hand down his face. "im sorry," he said, barely in a whisper. you were unsure what to say at this point. you had liked josh for years, but he had never shown interest in you, but god forbid you say anything in the risk that he would actually like you back.

"don't be," you whispered back. he met your gaze, confusion filling his eyes.

"what?"

"i said don't be," you gave him a soft smile. he smiled back softly, walking over and sitting on his bed. you followed, sitting next to him, letting your knees brush against each other.

"how much did you hear?"

"i heard you say my name, but i didn't see much," you said in a very confident and teasing manner. he was looking down at his hands, his face a nice shade of crimson. "what's wrong?" you tease, moving your hand under his chin to make him meet your gaze.

"n-nothing..." he stuttered out. "i just, um," he couldn't get the words out. without thinking, you leaned forward, your lips pressing against his. you heard a small gasp escape josh, but you felt him immediately melt into the kiss. you felt his hand rest on your thigh as he tried to move closer to you. you felt his mouth gap slightly, giving you a chance to slide your tongue in, letting them dance around each other. your hands made their way up into his hair, grabbing fistfuls of it, tugging on it slightly. with that, he let out a guttural groan. "fuck," he breathed onto your lips.

"you have no idea how long i've wanted this," you mumble, adjusting your body to straddle his lap, feeling his cock rubbing on your heat. you began grinding on him softly, making him throw his head back in a stifled moan.

"m-me too," he whined out, grabbing at your ass trying to push you against him harder.

you reach down, grabbing his wrists and making him stop. "no, and be quiet." he looked up at you, a flash of desperation in his eyes. he quickly nodded.

"okay..." he whispered. you got up off of him, pointing at the bed, signaling at him to scoot up and lay down. he immediately did so, you following him to straddle him again, grinding against his confined dick. he bit his lower lip, watching you carefully trying to stifle the whines that were escaping his lips. "please," he whimpered out. you slipped off your shirt, the cold air causing goosebumps to form on your skin. josh bit his lips, eyes hungrily searching your body. you kissed his neck as you worked on the button of his jeans. you trailed kisses down his clothed chest before sliding his jeans and boxers off allowing his cock to spring free, then throwing them into a messy pile on the floor. his eyes followed your movements, hands gripping the bedsheets under him. you slowly began pumping the base of his cock as you brought your tongue down to the tip of his cock, making slow circles around him. his hips moved upward.

"be fucking still," you murmured, grabbing onto his hip with your free hand, gripping it tightly.

"i, im sorry," he whined out. "just feels s'good," his words were slurred together as his head leaned back. you bring your mouth back, wrapping your lips around him, bobbing your head up and down on his length at an agonizingly slow pace. he whined, gripping the back of your head, squirming beneath you. "mmmplease, faster," he gasped out between whines and whimpers.

"so needy," you hummed on him, quickening your speed. he arched his back, his reaction causing the heat between your legs to ache. you ran your tongue on the underneath side of his shaft, sucking on the tip harshly before taking him back into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat.

"fuck im gonna~" you pulled off of him before he had a chance to finish his sentence, not allowing him to have his release. he looked up at you, desperation in his eyes. "p-please y/n, i need to cum," he whined.

"i want to fuck you first, joshy," you grinned before sliding your own shorts and panties off. you moved your hand down to your clit, rubbing lazy circles around it before moving up to him. "I'm going to ride your face, okay? you're going to make me cum before you can," i hummed. eagerly, he moaned out an 'okay' before you straddled his face. you immediately felt his hands grab onto your thighs as his tongue flicked over your folds, causing you to let out a low groan. "fuck, you're doing so good for me," you whispered. you leaned on one hand to brace yourself on the headboard while the other lightly tugged at tufts of his hair. he moaned into your heat as you tugged at his hair. his tongue periodically flicking over your clit, causing tremors of pleasure to run thorough you. you moaned, feeling a heat building up in your core. "fuck josh don't stop," you moaned out. he moved his head back and forth, moving his tongue in and out of you before moving it up to your clit again. before you knew it, you felt your orgasm burst out of you, making your body jolt, throwing your head back in a loud moan. josh moaned underneath you as you rode out your orgasm. you get off him wrapping your hand around his cock, feeling it get impossibly harder with your touch.

"p-please fuck me now," he whined out, unable to contain himself much longer. his eyes were glazed over with pleasure.

"so fucking needy," you mumble as you line his cock up with your entrance, slowly easing yourself onto him, stretching you out. you groaned as he whined, grabbing your hips to push you onto him. this caused you to grab his wrists, pinning them above his head, his eyes not leaving yours. "you're going to be good and not touch me, right?"

"i," he cut himself off with a needy moan as you started slowly bouncing on him, his eyes screwing shut.

"fuck, so big," you said through your own pleasure. "this is better that fucking your hand, mm joshy?" he nodded, his mouth open slightly as he tried to hold it together. you leaned down to kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue. you quickened your movements, attacking his neck while you grinded on him, making him whine and moan. you let go of his hands, placing yours on his chest to brace yourself to quicken your movements even more.

"c-can i come," he breathed out, eyes still shut and brows furrowed. "please i can't hold on much longer," he groaned. you didn't answer, just leaned down to kiss him again, a much softer and intimate kiss. you felt the heat bubbling inside you again as his cock twitched, insinuating his closeness.

"be a good boy, cum inside," you whisper in his ear, you feeling yourself unfolding as your second orgasm hit, clenching around his cock. he groaned, letting out strained breaths as he reached his climax, filling you with his seed. you leaned down to kiss his forehead as he rode out his orgasm.

"s-shit, y/n.." he heaved. you looked down at him, his hair clinging to the sweat on his forehead. "thank you," he whispered. his eyes remained shut as he caught his breath. you got off of him, laying down next to him, catching your own breath. "hold on," he quietly said before getting up and leaving the room. he returned quickly with a small towel, gingerly cleaning you off before cleaning himself off. he offered you your underwear and one of his tshirts.

"thank you," you slipped them on as he pulled his boxers back on. you didn't notice at first, but they had a biotic wars pattern on them.

"you're an idiot, joshy." you smiled, looking over to him.

"what, i like the game!" he said, slightly offended. you rolled your eyes as he crawled back onto the bed, laying sideways with his head on your shoulder. he draped his arm over your stomach. "you said you've wanted to do that for a while?" he looked up to you, cocking an eyebrow at you.

"shut up," you smiled.

"what, im being serious!" you couldnt help but laugh.

"well, ive wanted to be with you since we were 15. i started wanting this when i went off to school. i missed you a lot. thought about you all the time really." you sighed out, closing your eyes. you felt him smile against your shoulder.

"ive liked you for a while too, was just scared to say anything." you didnt respond, just planted a kiss on his forehead. he sighed. "please dont tell anyone how much of a loser i am in the bedroom," he chuckled sleepily.

"aww not even my best friend?" he grumbled. "fine, fine you big baby." a comfortable silence filled the room, and soon the both of you drifted off to sleep in each others arms.

okay first fic done lol if yall made it through that and for some reason want more, send me recs! ill do 'em! thanks for reading lol

#josh hutcherson #josh futterman #josh futturman fanfic #future man #josh futturman futureman #josh futturman smut #josh futturman fic #josh futturman x reader #josh hutcherson smut

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argumentativeaxolotl · 9 months

Text

Random Human AU Cars headcanons that probably don’t make any sense before I go to bed bc I can.

Lightning McQueen:

- Has accidentally called Doc “dad” before

- Has accidentally called Strip “dad” as well

- Bro can literally not stop moving- like he will not sit still and he tries so hard

- He has the shortest attention span ever if it doesn’t have to do with his friends or racing

- He actually really enjoys American Football and plays a modified version with Mater sometimes

- He was an orphan growing up

- Bro would 100% go apeshit feral if he lost a game of Uno

- Loves carnivals

- Dog person

- Forgets he’s rich sometimes and he can make his own decisions about money

- His love language is hugs and gifts

- He bought the Hot Wheels of his car and continues to buy every variation

Chick Hicks:

- Bit other kids as a child

- Filled water guns with lemonade and shot at people’s eyes

- Daddy issues(actually this is canon isn’t it?)

- Cat person

- Frighteningly good at card games like Casino “house always wins” levels of good. Like bro will somehow know what your cards are without even looking at them

- He put rocks in snowballs

- Alcoholic

- Loves anything horror, gorey, and True Crime

- He’s notoriously bad at getting people gifts, like seriously bro is not allowed to buy anything for anyone for Christmas or their birthdays that’s how bad it is(someone usually gets it for him)

- He probably has a huge gambling problem

- His love language is giving gifts

- He gives gifts as a form of apology because he’s shit at words

- Literally the best mustache in all of cars- like he keeps that thing at top condition 101% of the time

- He never actually finished school because his dad forced him into racing as soon as he could

- Probably had rabies at one point and somehow survived

- If you somehow manage to become a good friend of his, he’ll actually be super chill w/ you

- Rich as FUCK

Strip Weathers:

- Legally adopted Cal after his parents passed away(or sumn idk)

- Has several scars on his arm from the crash during the tie-breaker race

- He, Tex, Lynda, and Cal were practically inseparable after the crash

- He and Tex are literally the bestest of buds like they are homies to the MAX

- He doesn’t hold any ill-will against Chick even if he should and is allowed to

- The “Boy Scout” of racing(think Superman or Captain America)

- He listens to “Old Town Road” by Lil Nas X while working with his horses. Cal cringes every time.

- He never swears unless he’s serious about something or is extremely upset or concerned

- He almost fainted when he met Doc for the first time, almost immediately asking for an autograph

- He has a ranch full of horses and enjoys horse racing as well as car racing

- Received an apology gift of both cologne and a miniature trophy from Chick

- He let Chick sign his cast after the crash

- He’s tried to teach Lightning and Bobby how to ride horses with Cal’s help. It did not go well

- He wanted to be a doctor for a little while before switching career paths

- Racing is literally in his blood(he comes from a very VERY long line of racers)

- Weirdly good at writing. Like for no reason.

- He heavily fanboyed over Doc when he was younger

Doc Hudson:

- He loves Lightning as his son

- He thinks of Sally as a surrogate daughter

- Unironically says “back in my day” whenever he’s telling a story

- He owns a shotgun and it’s hidden away in his house, far away from Lightning(who keeps trying to find it with no luck)

- He knows the most shit out of everyone and all their backstories. Bro hears the gossip and goes “nice”

- He loves watching fruit dissection videos on YouTube for some reason

- Bro is great at knitting. Like seriously. Give him ten seconds and you’ll have a whole ass sweater with a theme and everything

- He is an alcoholic(especially after his crash)

- Never got married or had children… until Lightning and Sally lmaooo

- He nearly started crying tears of joy when Lightning called him dad the first time

- He has several large burns and scars on his legs and lower back from the crash(like shit is really bad dude)

- His favorite movie is the original ghost busters

- He is a cat person

- He is a neat freak at heart yet gave up trying to clean out his garage because of all the bad memories

#cars 2006 #human lightning mcqueen #humanized cars #chick hicks #headcanon #lightning mcqueen headcanon #chick hicks headcanon #humanized chick hicks #doc hudson #strip weathers #humanized strip weathers #humanized doc Hudson #headcanons #humanization #I’m really tired lmao #it’s like 1 am #i’m very tired #lmaooo

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jtl-fics · 10 months

Text

Fluent Freshman - Part 30

Ichirou Moriyama had long been someone Riko had spoken about and therefore someone Kevin knew of.

First reverently as he talked about how someday his brother would come for him and how he’d watch Riko’s games. Then Ichirou never showed up once and the anger set in and mentions of his brother would result in especially bad days.

Kevin’s only saving grace at the Nest near the end was that Ichirou had been as uninterested in him as he was in Riko.

Neil was the one who had handled any communications with the new Master of the Moriyama family and Kevin was grateful for that. His stomach still twists when he found out what it would cost him to have the closest thing he would ever really have to freedom since his mom’s car accident but Kevin could hardly fault Neil since Kevin has no idea if he would have been able to even open his mouth and speak to negotiate with Ichirou. He certainly wouldn’t have thought to bargain for Neil and Jean’s lives.

So he was going to make sure the Neil had the best possible chances to get on a great team not just because he had every faith that Neil could be on the national court but also Kevin wanted him on the national court. Neil was his partner and his friend.

This was his last year that he could help as directly as this so he and Neil were still putting in the hours in their evening practices. It was also the last year that Neil could rely on him to assist in getting everyone up to snuff.

Ichirou Moriyama was going to be stopping by at some point and Kevin had decided that the best way to handle this information was to focus on something life affirming.

“I’m just saying it isn’t an unknown flavor combination.” Kevin argues.

“Kevin there is something very different about vanilla protein powder in chicken stock and Chicken and Waffles.” Aaron says from his spot behind Kevin in Wymack’s car.

“There shouldn’t be! It’s all the same flavors, just liquid!” Kevin turns in his seat to point at Aaron, “You should put on your seatbelt, what if Wymack crashes?” He says for the third time since the car ride had begun.

“That’s my problem, not yours.” Aaron says and his eyes have been locked on the roof of the car since the car ride began which was rude but Kevin had learned to expect nothing less from a Minyard.

“It will be my problem when your corpse breaks my neck as you fly forward!” Kevin hisses.

“Coach, could you do me a favor-“

“I’m not going to crash the car.” Wymack interrupts eyes on the road and hands at 10 and 2.

“God forbid you do something nice for me.” Aaron gripes crossing his arms.

Kevin decides to change his target.

“Coach-“

“Kevin, you’re not putting any protein powder into Smith’s soup. That’s final. Do you want to mess up his Grandma’s hard work to follow the Doctor’s recipe exactly?” Wymack asks.

No.

No Kevin does not wish to mess up Grandma Smith’s hard work.

He just…

A Food pyramid flashes in his mind.

…thinks he knows more than the hospital dietician.

“It’s not that Smith’s Grandma made bad soup.” Kevin says because the woman was a talent in the kitchen even if she might use a bit too much butter. He’d let her know but Nicky refused to translate and she’d smiled so warmly at him and touched his face so gently… “I think she was led astray by bad science and Nicky wouldn’t translate for me.” He says, “If she understood English she would have understood and agreed with me.” He says because he did manage to get her finely chop a bunch of carrots to put into the pasta sauce so that Neil would get some veggies.

She was a reasonable woman who understood the importance of good nutrition.

“I don’t know about that.” Coach says and Kevin wonders what he means by that.

They’re close behind Andrew’s car and Kevin can see two parking spots next to one another near the front except Andrew pulls into the spots in a way that means it is almost impossible for anyone to get into the second spot unless they owned a tiny smart car.

Andrew often parks like that to make sure no one dings the Maserati.

“That little shit.” Wymack grumbles as he continues to drive.

“Aren’t you going to let us out at the entrance?” Kevin asks.

“Who am I, your driver?” Wymack grumbles and does not slow down to let them out at the hospital entrance. “You’ve been bitching about not getting enough exercise and eating too much fat this weekend, consider this just some of the exercise you’ve been wanting.” He says.

Kevin leans back in the chair.

He does NOT pout. He merely frowns with his lips puffed out and feels as if he has been treated unfairly.

He uses this time wisely.

He thinks about Neil and Andrew’s ‘secret’ conversation.

Kevin still doesn’t know Russian, has no plans to learn it because he does not want to know 80% of what Neil and Andrew say to one another, but Kevin has always been great at understanding tone and it’s not that hard to understand that they were talking about FF when he ‘Kapitan Neil’.

He thinks about what might stress Neil out about FF (never once does he consider that FF being in the hospital with a stab wound may be the thing that stresses Neil out, not when there’s an explanation that involves Exy).

FF might choose to leave.

That would not bode well for Neil.

Kevin has already signed but Neil needs the next few years still to make sure he can follow through on his deal with Ichirou.

FF is a great defensive dealer.

Kevin still doesn’t really understand how he can seemingly just appear on the Court to intercept passes but Kevin has been informed that all of his plans to figure it out are ‘medically unethical’ and ‘likely to get him thrown in prison’.

Nicky patting his face pityingly and saying, “Your face is too pretty for prison.” had been when he stopped looking at how he could buy electrodes.

His follow-up search to find out that no prison in the United States currently had an Exy court as a facility had him drop the outline of his research into his recycle bin and right click to delete permanently.

Since Kevin cannot find a way to replicate that particular talent of FF’s then they just need FF to stay.

He also quite likes the steady freshman. He’s probably not ever going to be National Court level like he and Neil are, but he would be a solid Dealer on a good team. Kevin wouldn’t even mind playing with him professionally.

They park the car far in the back of the lot and Wymack grumbles at a different nice car that is taking up two spots. Kevin climbs out of the car and they start their way towards the hospital.

Kevin considers jogging in circles around Aaron and Wymack as they walk just to burn off more of the lunch they’d just had but decides against it.

Maybe a different nutritionist will be on staff today and will be able to back Kevin up on his plan.

***

Captain Neil and Andrew are quickly followed by Nicky and his Grandma both of whom look nervous but some of that seemed to dissipate when they saw him.

“Are you okay?” Captain Neil asks.

FF goes to open his mouth but a nurse interrupts, “He decided to go on a walk in his current condition. I thought we were quite clear that you needed to stay in bed. Stressing yourself is why you collapsed in the Cafeteria like that.” His main nurse chastises.

“Sorry, it won’t happen again.” FF promises because it won’t. He’s planning on asking for a medically induced coma to escape the consequences of his actions so leaving the bed is the last thing he’s going to do. His dad’s trust for him can have money taken out for his medical needs and there has never been a greater medical need in his entire life than right now.

“What happened?” Andrew demands stepping next to Neil.

How does one explain getting a job offer from the Yakuza (Yakuza or Mafia)?

“I wanted to go for a walk.” He answers because he had and that’s easier to explain.

“Why did you meet Ichirou Moriyama?” Andrew asks again in German.

Well dammit.

FF finds himself at a crossroads.

Does he tell the truth? That he’s an idiot and didn’t realize the man was reaching out to Captain Neil? That he went and had an entire conversation with the man who owns Captain Neil, Kevin, and Jean Moreau? That afterward he tried to stand up and fainted which is how he got taken back to his room?

He thinks he has enough lies going on between his own and his grandma’s and he needs to relay something from Ichirou Moriyama.

“Lord Moriyama wanted me to tell you that he no longer needed to speak with you Captain Neil.” He relays just like he said he would and he sees Captain Neil tense.

“Smith.” Andrew says his name.

He also doesn’t want to talk about it any further.

“I’m fine, but I don’t want to talk about it.” FF closes his eyes as he answers back in German. He feels exhausted now and wishes that he had just requested a coma earlier so that he wouldn’t be in this situation. “Captain Neil, you left your phone here and it’s been pinging. Sorry I read one of the texts.” He gestures vaguely to his side table.

None of his guests speak for the next few minutes as the nurses finish reminding him to stay still, that he’s lucky his stitches didn’t break, that he’s on thin ice. He’s tired and he’s hungry so he’s curt with them in a way he’ll regret later but right now it’s just a lot when he can still feel Captain Neil and Andrew’s eyes burning into him.

Then Nicky proves to continue to be the nicest friend he has when the nurses leave and he feels Nicky’s hand take his and squeeze. “Hey, how are you really feeling?” he asks.

FF takes a deep breath, “I have...no idea.” he says. “I’m sorry.” he adds.

Nicky squeezes his hand again, “Hey, Aras made you some soup and we kept it away from Kevin. You’re probably a lil’ cranky because you’re tired, hungry, and in pain. You don’t need to talk about it right now okay?” Nicky says.

He’s really lucky to have Nicky as his friend.

He squeezes Nicky’s hand back and valiantly does not cry. He squeezes his eyes tighter to keep them from slipping out, it’d be embarrassing to cry here like this.

“Thank you.” He says voice quiet but doesn’t open his eyes, knowing what will come out if he does.

His Grandma comes to his side again and strokes his face. Her fingers wipe away the few tears that did slip out despite his best efforts but he thinks she did it so casually that maybe no one noticed.

It hasn’t been a good day, but Grandma’s soup has always been something that makes him feel better. He just wishes he could be alone for a minute with just her to witness the next few minutes.

Nicky, bless him, must sense that because he squeezes his hand tightly before letting go, “C’mon, let’s give Smithy and Aras a moment okay?” He says.

FF doesn’t open his eyes until his Grandma whispers, “My little Rotisserie Chicken, they’ve stepped out.” She says.

“He offered me a job in the Yakuza.” He blubbers immediately. “I don’t even know if they have dental.” He spills one of his lesser concerns.

“Oh honey, let’s eat some soup.” She soothes stroking his face.

***

Neil feels bad.

FF was pale, shaking, sweaty, and despite his grandma’s best efforts Neil had seen a tear slip from his tightly closed eyes.

He looks to his side and sees Andrew’s own hands tightened into fists.

“C’mon, let’s give Smithy and Aras a moment okay?” Nicky says and drags them out of the room through the sheer force of his ire. It’s moment like this that Neil really does understand why it is that FF prefers to spend his free time with Nicky over any other of their group.

They get out of the room and down the hall before Nicky starts in. “You two are the KINGS of not talking about shit so, for now, LEAVE it.” He hisses in German in a bid to keep the conversation private from anyone walking past.

“We need to know what deal he and Ichirou came to.” Andrew says in the same language.

“You’re going to find that out from Ichirou probably once he crazy murders Romero and Jackson in the next couple days!” Nicky cries dramatically, “Smithy probably doesn’t even know the full details because he’s in a lot of pain because he’s been STABBED.” Nicky points a finger at Andrew but wisely does not poke him with it. “Do you think he ACTUALLY went on a walk? Ichirou’s men probably took him since they couldn’t find YOU Neil.” Nicky points at Neil and, again, wisely does not poke him with it.

Neil’s stomach twists.

Maybe Neil should invest in a phone clip like Wymack thought the implication that the Moriyamas came to where his phone was leaves him wanting to skip it like a stone straight into the ocean. Too bad going to a beach still makes his palms sweaty.

“So what WE are going to do,” Nicky does a quick circle to point at the three of them, “is we are going to be good friends and help Smithy because he’s stressed, in pain, and needs friends not INTERROGATORS.” Nicky waves his arms in exasperation.

“Who are Neil and Andrew interrogating?” Aaron asks and Neil looks to the side to see Aaron with Kevin being pulled along by the scruff by Wymack.

“Smithy.” Nicky says.

“Why?” Kevin asks.

“Because Ichirou came and talked to him.” Andrew explains.

Kevin goes pale. “Why? I thought he was going to talk with Neil?” Kevin asks looking at Neil.

“He probably came here following Neil’s phone, which he left. So he grabbed Smithy to talk to him.” Nicky says, “Ichirou seemed impressed and pleased with whatever they talked about but Smithy is a little fragile after all of this so,” Nicky stepped into Kevin’s space, “Leave.” He pokes Kevin’s chest once, “Him.” He pokes Kevin’s chest twice, “Alone.” He pokes Kevin’s chest a third time.

“How would he even have an understanding of who he’s talking to?” Kevin asks looking sick. “No one has mentioned anything about the whole thing with the Moriyamas right?” He looks at the rest of them and Neil knows none of them would mention it.

Nicky rolls his eyes with his entire body.

“Kevin, do you know how many languages Smithy is fluent in?” Nicky asks.

“Uh…quite a few?” Kevin responds looking thrown.

“Yeah, one of those languages is French. Which you KNOW because he’s corrected your pronunciation before.” Nicky reminds Kevin and the Son of Exy blushes slightly.

“What does that have to do with this?!” Kevin squawks.

“Kevin, how many conversations have you had RIGHT in front of Smithy in French as you talked with Jean?” Nicky asks.

“None!” Kevin hisses.

“Can you say that for sure? You know how it can be with Smithy. Aaron over here has basically almost fucked his girlfriend in front of Smithy before because he didn’t realize he was there.” He juts his thumb towards Aaron.

“Hey.” Aaron scowls not happy to be reminded of that. “He needs a damn bell.” Aaron grumbles.

“I’ve talked about it in front of him and you never told us?!” Kevin exclaims.

“It’s Smithy! He’s not going to tell anyone!” Nicky argues.

Which is very true.

FF is just not that kind of guy.

“So we are ALL going to be good, supportive friends to Smithy and hopefully he gets out of here today despite the whole shit show with Ichirou and we get him back to Abby’s where he can rest up in her guest room with his grandma.” He points at each of them with a frown.

“But-“

“Kevin, leave it for now.” Wymack finally steps in to the conversation. “How’s he looking?” He looks to Neil.

Pale, tired, pained, and trying not to cry either from pain, stress, or fear Neil does not know.

“Bad.” Neil answers.

Wymack sighs, “Stay out here. I’m going to go check.” He says.

They watch as Wymack enters into FF’s room.

Kevin is still spiraling from the realization of all the different conversations he could have possibly had in front of FF thinking French would act as a barrier.

A thought crosses Neil’s mind, “Wait, Smith doesn’t know Russian right?” He looks to Andrew because he and Andrew have said quite a few things to one another when FF was there.

“No, he said he isn’t learning it here.” Andrew shakes his head. “Even if he does learn it Smith would just leave if he was uncomfortable.” Andrew shrugs.

They have all seen a ‘Smith 180°™‘ before when he’s walked in and has seen Aaron and Katelyn or entered a room where Nicky was talking to Erik or Matt was talking to Dan. Neil has even noticed one or two when him and Andrew may have been in a less than private place.

It was nice to have someone who would just see them like that and leave it alone instead of betting on it, trying to take a picture, or gagging like it’s disgusting.

Wymack walks back out after a minute in FF’s hospital room, “Let’s give Smith and his Grandma a couple more minutes.” He says and Neil’s heart sinks.

***

Wymack wasn’t quite sure what he walked into.

Smith’s Grandma was wiping his face and feeding him soup which is about what he expected. What he hadn’t expected was what FF was saying to his Grandma.

“….didn’t even wash his hands Gran. What if none of them wash their hands? I can’t work in that kind of environment!” FF babbles as he takes another spoonful of soup from his Grandma.

Smith’s Grandma looks up and sees that it’s just him at the door before continuing in English, “Sweetie, you don’t need to accept the job offer from the Yakuza.” She soothes.

“What do I even do?! What’s the etiquette? Do I send a letter refusing the job offer? Do I email him thanking him for the interview? Was it an interview?” FF asks.

Wymack shuts the door and he’s sure FF hadn’t even noticed him.

Yeah the kid needs a couple more minutes

MASTERPOST FOR ALL PARTS OF FLUENT FRESHMAN AU

@i-have-three-feelings @blep-23 @dreamerking27 @andreilsmyreligion @belodensetdust @rainbowpineapplebottle @yarn-ace @iwouldlikesometea @lily-s-world @obscureshipsandchips @booklover242 @whataboutmyfries @sahturnos @pluto-pepsi @dreamerthinker @passinhosdetartaruga @leftunknownheart @aro-manita-muscaria @hologramsaredead @Chaoticgremlinswishtheycouldbeme @tntwme @tayspots @nick-scar @crazy-fangirl2524 @blue-jos10 @stabbyfoxandrew @splishsplashyouropinionistrash @sammichly @the-broken-pen @bitchesdoweknowu @very-small-flower @ghostlyboiii @its-a-paxycab @bisexual-genderfluid-fan @cheesecookie @theoneandonlylostsock @foxsoulcourt @blueleys @adverbialstarlight @elia-nna @can-i-just-stay-in-the-corner @nikodiangel @foxandcrow-inatrenchcoat @hallucinatedjosten @satanic-foxhole-court @vexingcosmos @chalilodimun @insectsgetcooked @angry-kid-with-no-money @queer-crows @lillyndra @themundanemudperson @readertodeath @apileofpillows @mortalsbowbeforeme @hellomynameismoo @next-level-mess @youreonlylow @interstellarfig @notprocrastinatingatalltoday @percyjacksonfan3 @queenofcrazy27 @bsmr261 @ghostlyscares @spencellio @adinthedarkroom @harpymoth @sufferingjustalilbit @anxietymoss @oddgreyhound @ohno-myhyperfixation-itsbroken @ken22789 @atiredvampire @isoldescorner @not--a--pipedream @azure-wing @bushbees @roonilwazlib-main @crumplelush @foldedaces-paperbirds @thesenseinnonsense @let-tyrants-fear @ketchupandfries @legowerewolf @deadlydodos @but-we-respect-his-craft @cariniqe @zanypersonapricotbiscuit @lesbian-blackbeard @lesbiansupernatural @silvermasquerade @thepeachfuzz @minniemariex @kazoo-the-demjin @gaypomegranate @ji-nk-ies @neilimfinejosten @omgrubelangel @itsyouitsmeorpheuseurydice @percabethotplove @cozyrosykay @foxyatlas @theoneandonlylostsock @cindersapsecrets @scornedethnographer @hugemotherfuckingnerd @givemethedamnflowers @our-king-bree

The requests to be added to the tag list keep being spread out across a few different areas. If I missed you please just ask again in the replies I promise I just missed you.

As stated before if you’re up here and I spelled it right but you didn’t get a notification there might be something switched around in your settings that won’t let me tag you properly?

#Fluent Freshman AU #FF - Pt. 30 #Can't BELIEVE there's 30 parts of this #Happy 4th of July to all my fellow Americans #Happy Tuesday to everyone else #FF be going through it a bit in this chapter #He's a silly goofy guy but also he's having a delayed reaction to realizing who he just talked to #Yes Wymack was dragging Kevin because Kevin tried to go get into another argument with the Nutritionist #Also Yes GS had Neil eat veggies without his knowledge but EVERYONE else knew #Also yes the car that was parked the same assholey way that Andrew's was is Ichirou's car #Some other things that FF is worried about with the job offer #How does one ask for a raise within organized crime?#How organized is the crime?#Do they have payroll?#Or is it commissions based?#Is there some sort of ACCOUNTANT who manages all of that?#That's gotta be stressful #If he wants to pursue other avenues of employment how does he use this on his resume?#IS Ichirou Moriyama a good reference?#Do they get paid vacation?#What are his benefits?#Does he get to request 1 free hit a year?#If hired can he push a hygiene initiative?#Like YES you are trying to kill your target #But Sepsis is such an awful way to go #What do human resources look like in a crime family?#aftg #AFTG AU #AFTG OC #Andreil

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sky-scribbles · 7 months

Text

I never thought I'd be grateful for a game crashing so hard it erased three hours of play. But right now, I am. Because pre-crash, I decided to have Gale talk to Mystra before his Outer Plane boat ride scene. Once I realoded, I had him talk to her after. And I am so glad to have seen the difference.

When Gale speaks to Mystra without you having talked to him in the Outer Planes first, his first response on returning is to launch straight into talking about the Karsite Weave. It's very similar to his reaction to emerging from the Mind Flayer colony at the end of act 2 - he doesn't stop to sit with how he's feeling about defying Mystra and choosing to live, despite these being enormous, world-shaking decisions for him; he goes straight into fixating on the potentials of the Crown of Karsus. He pulls away from your attempts to engage him in conversation about his choice. And after talking to Mystra, he does the same thing again. He gives himself no time to reflect on how he's feeling or what he's going through; nor to consider that you, his friend and possible partner, might want to check in with him and connect with him after such an important moment.

In this version of events, Gale is fixated on the potential of the Crown. He wonders if the reason he survived the orb was because the Karsite Weave chose him. He's fully on the 'ascending to godhood' train to an extent that my Tav found very unsettling - mostly because all she wanted was to just ask her partner how he's doing after this very enormous event. And crucially, he does not talk about - and there's no opportunity to ask him - whether he thinks this would make him happy.

But then my game crashed. My saves got eaten. And I decided I deserved nice things after that, so I ended the day right after starting it and experienced the boat scene. And my Tav got to tell Gale, quite simply, that he is enough. He is loved for who he is. He doesn't need to strive harder, become better, prove himself, be more special. No perfect godhood needed; all of him - the flaws, the mistakes, the brokenness - is worthy of love.

And when he got back from talking to Mystra this time? He immediately stops to check in on himself. He says that he can't believe that he saw her. He's able to sift through his emotions and even be proud of himself for facing Mystra. Far from feeling like the orb chose him, he's stunned that he ever thought he could control it. Because he doesn't need the idea of having been chosen anymore. He doesn't need that desperate validation. And my Tav got the chance to ask him that all-important question: 'Is this what you want?'

Both versions of this scene were great and telling, and there's definitely an argument to be made for doing it both ways around. But it really struck me to conpare the two and see it made so very clear: all Gale ever needed to be able to stop and see himself truly, to consider his own feelings and needs, to communicate more clearly with his partner, and to be kind to himself... was just for someone to tell him that he is enough. Just as he is.

Because that was what it was all about, wasn't it? The orb, the book, returning of that fragment of the Weave to Mystra - it was all about him trying, desperately, impossibly, to be enough for her.

It's not until he realises that he's worthy of love in all his imperfect mortality that he can even consider being enough for himself.

#so yeah i'll be putting three by sleeping at last on a gale playlist shortly i think #bg3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #mystra #bg3 spoilers #sky plays bg3 #bg3 meta #bg3 gale

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