#Fic: Afterburn

[thedonswife13]

Jake cares a whole lot, he just doesn’t always show it. Jake is head over heels for her and I love it

Afterburn – Crosswinds

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x OC/Reader

Masterlist

OC/Reader's name is Teddy/callsign 'Kodiak'

Summary: You liked him when he was like this. You liked him all the time, but especially when he gave up on trying to get the upper hand in the conversation, and just let things be. When he was a little less Hangman and a little more Jake.

Warnings: mentions of aviation crash, mostly just hangman being a simp. smoking?

Notes: Dagger Squad took one look at Teddy and Phoenix was already printing out the adoption papers lmao. this is set post TGM, and Mav has taken up an instructing position.

Masterlist

A loud burst of buoyant laughter greets your ears, the noise out of place in the otherwise quiet administrative corridor, but not totally unwelcome. You have to suppress a smile and a roll of your eyes as you tuck a stack of papers under your arm and push open the door to what you imagine is the only currently occupied room in this part of campus.

Your arrival into your own office barely grants a pause in the ongoing conversations, though several out of the seven aviators lounging about throw you a wave or a quick greeting.

Hangman, who doesn’t appear to acknowledge your presence at all, sits in the visitor chair directly opposite your workstation, with his feet nonchalantly kicked up on your desk, one of your little model jets turning in his hands. You shove his feet off as you pass and pointedly ignore the tiny twitch of his lips that threatens to break into a full-on smirk any moment. Instead, you lean in and snatch back your model F-22 Raptor, before rounding the side of the tabletop, and falling into your chair.

Hangman’s hands stay suspended in place for a few moments, but he drops them a beat later, his eyes fixated on you in taunting amusement as you return your prized desk bauble to its proper position.

This time, you ignore him, tapping your login credentials into your computer, and shuffling the papers from under your arm to the surface in front of you. Out of the corner of your eye you spot Hangman’s fingers reaching out for something else, a pen or another of your model jets most likely, and the flash of surprise that flickers across his face when you sharply slap his knuckles away is almost enough for you to mirror the self-satisfied smirk he’d been wearing only moments prior.

“I know you’re capable of looking with your eyes, Hangman, considering you like to stare so much,” you tease, using the same voice that you might with a naughty child. The man across from you relents with suspiciously little bitching, and leans back in his seat, fingers laced together.

“You know Teddy Bear, I’ve been told that women like eye contact,” Hangman’s smile only grows when you fix him with an unamused look.

“And just like everything else, Hangman, you take that too far,” Phoenix scoffs from the scant seating area right behind him, where she sits facing you with Rooster and Bob.

The green eyes still boring into yours suddenly gain a challenging glint, and he opens his mouth, turning in his seat to respond, but you cut him off.

“Now, now, children…” you say scoldingly, earning an annoyed frown from Hangman, and a shrug from Phoenix.

You go back to updating your records, and for a while the tapping of your keyboard undercuts the soft conversation that fills your office, and you happily listen to the aviators discussing today’s training. It was pleasant to have the company, as much as you pretended to be exasperated with certain people, not-so-deep down you were more than alright with the Civilian Instructors’ Staff Room becoming the new hangout for the group.

It had started several weeks back now, with Phoenix and Bob visiting you on your lunch hour. The next day they brought Fanboy and Payback, who the day after that, had convinced Rooster to come along, and naturally there was no way that Rooster would be invited to any social gathering that Hangman was excluded from, so he and Coyote had tagged along too.

Now it wasn’t just your lunch breaks that had your office full of pilots, since it was plainly obvious that you were the only current civilian instructor on base, they had started using the office as their own lay-room in place of the one used by the rest of the pilots. Coyote had made up the excuse last week that the usual rec room had too many younger aviators in it, and this week it was because you were apparently closer to the hangar. With every new excuse, you’d simply let out a huff and roll your eyes with a knowing smile.

The first time you’d actually been forced to interrogate the how’s or whys had been a week ago, after Maverick had spent the best part of an hour searching for his group and had eventually come looking for you to ask if you’d seen them. He’d found your office filled with his rowdy squad of aviators having an intense argument, split down the middle over Kong vs Godzilla. After declaring Godzilla would be the winner hands down, Mav had ordered them all out.

A bemused smile plays on Maverick’s lips, and he shakes his head. One of his hands holds open your office door, and the other ushers out his squad of aviators, all wearing matching looks of sheepishness at having been discovered.

Once the last pilot has filtered out, the older man turns to look back at you, his handsome features pulled into a concerned, almost fatherly grimace. It was an expression that you’d become rather used to since you’d begun working together.

“Teddy…” Mav begins, and he almost sounds exasperated, before he pauses, and softens his tone. “I should tell them not to bother you,” he says, but you can hear the subtle question beneath the statement. He sounds sympathetic and gentle in just about the only manner that doesn’t automatically make you retch these days.

Your eyes dip down to your hands on your desk, and you spin your pen skilfully around your pointer, ring, and third fingers. It was a trick you had picked up several years ago, confined to a hospital bed and with nothing else to occupy your mind.

When you look back up, you see Mav eying your movements, his lips pulling down in the corners. He knew as well as you did by now that it was an anxious habit.

“I don’t mind. Really, having them around is nice… everyone around here treats me like I’m made of glass, it’s nice to just… have friends,” you purse your lips and drop your pen, before reaching out and straightening the model jet that a certain pilot had been playing with earlier. Another nervous tick that doesn’t go unnoticed.

You didn’t talk about this subject with many people, if anyone, but since being introduced to Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell, you’d discovered the man’s earnest, ironically down-to-earth kindness was good at weeding the truth out of those around him.

“I think…” Mav starts but trails off, looking out into the hall quickly, and then stepping further into your office, letting the door close behind him before he continues. “I think they know that if things were different, you would have been recalled alongside them. They respect you for that,” he tells you softly.

You were never one for bragging, but you can’t deny that he was probably right. Still, you scoff out a small laugh and cross your arms over your chest.

“I think they’re just teacher’s pets,” you try to brush off his praise.

Maverick only shoves his hands in his pockets with a fond smile and shrugs.

“I’m just saying, they treat you like one of their own for a reason,” his face turns more serious then, and he drops his chin slightly. “But I understand if having them around all the time brings up some difficult feelings. Just say the word and…” he trails off again, just as someone calls for him out in the corridor.

You shake your head definitively then and smile softly, but genuinely. You were thankful that he’d even thought about that angle at all. To be honest, you were thankful in general for the oddball friendship the two of you had struck up while working together.

“Really, Mav, it’s fine. They won’t be able to sit around here forever, so it’s nice to have them back for as long as I can,” you pick up your pen again, and spin it mindlessly in your fingers. Neither of you point out that you didn’t even know half of the detachment before they’d been recalled to Miramar for their most recent assignment. You couldn’t really describe it as ‘having them back’, but you know he gets what you mean.

Maverick watches you closely for several more seconds, his eyes dropping to your spinning pen, then back to your face.

“Do me a favour while you’re up there, Cap?” you ask, leaning forward on your desk. Mav straightens up some and cocks his head.

“Shoot down everyone who argued for Kong,” you tease with a grin, and receive a laugh and a lazy salute in reply before you’re left completely alone once more.

You brush the memory aside, another train of thought crossing your mind.

You flick your eyes to Hangman’s neatly pressed tan uniform, and then to your watch for the time. Doing your best to sound nonchalant, you clear your throat, but don’t look away from your work.

“What are you guys still doing here?” you ask, referring to the late afternoon time, and the fact they’d clearly already run simulations this morning. Their duties for the day would have been finished at least an hour ago, giving them time to shower and change into their khakis.

“We’re headed to the Hard Deck after clock-off,” Coyote says, picking up an abandoned stress ball left behind on one of the desks and tosses it across the room where Phoenix easily catches it with one hand, before quickly offloading it to Rooster, who pitches it to Payback.

“You should’ve already clocked off by my count,” you say quietly, trying to sound more than only half-focused on your work.

“You’ve still got an hour,” Rooster tells you unnecessarily. You were aware now of what they were waiting for, and despite yourself, your heart grows warm.

“You know I can always just meet you there,” you say after clearing your throat once more.

“And give you the chance to skip out on shots again, Teddy Bear?” Hangman cuts in, somehow managing the feat of smirking and pouting at the same time.

“You know I don’t drink, right?” you cock your head at him with a squint, but he only shrugs.

For a moment your eyes linger on his mouth as he flicks a toothpick between his lips and tongue, having produced it from somewhere when you weren’t looking. When you lift your gaze again, he lets you know he’d spotted your shift in focus with a taunting lift of his brows, his smirk growing to near Cheshire proportions. You can only shake your head good-naturedly at his antics.

“Well, we figured we’d all just head on over together when you got done,” Coyote says, drawing your attention. You open your mouth to protest once more, not wanting them to feel obligated to stick around just for you, but you’re cut off by Phoenix.

“You get to dunk on any greens today?” she asks, a smile playing on her lips. Her question successfully distracts you and you drag your eyes away from Coyote with a matching smile and a scoff.

“There’s always one or two in a new class,” you roll your eyes.

“Do they not get that you have a pretty big say in whether or not they get their certification?” Phoenix asks rhetorically. You just shrug and absently start spinning your pen between your fingers.

“Well, if they don’t, they learn quickly or they learn the hard way,” you reply. It wasn’t in your nature to grandstand or call people out, especially in front of their peers, but you also weren’t going to allow some snot-nosed pilot to walk all over you. They tended to straighten up and shut their mouths once Warlock or Cyclone himself had a word or two with them.

The conversation easily flows on after that, and you occupy the rest of your afternoon finishing up a few tasks you needed to get done for Monday, chipping in with a comment here or there.

Your F-22 somehow finds its way back into Hangman’s clutches while you’re distracted, but this time there’s an almost child-like curiosity to him as he inspects the model exhaustively, and you find that you don’t have the heart to take it off him again.

When five o’clock ticks around at last, you pack up your desk and note with fond amusement that your model is promptly returned to the exact position you liked. Once you’ve grabbed your coat and bag, you allow yourself to be whisked away.

***

It never seemed to matter what day of the week it was, the Hard Deck was consistently busy. You suppose it helps to have the Naval base so close by, which was like having built-in regulars, as well as a stream of constant new faces.

You can still remember vividly the first time you stepped foot inside the bar, almost eight years ago now, still fresh-faced, a little wet behind the ears, and filled with the sort of energy only a twenty-two-year-old hot-shot Naval Aviator can possess. Back then you hadn’t really spent all that much time off North Island, but ever since Dagger squad had been around, you’d found yourself happy to be regularly crammed into one of the many small booths.

The sound of pool balls bouncing off one another cracks sharply and draws you back into the present. You throw a cursory glance toward the ongoing pool game, your lip quirking at the intensely competitive expressions on everyone’s faces. At this point in the night, they were all taking the game seriously still, but you know that later it would descend into thinly veiled duels over who could sink the coolest trick shot– or more entertainingly– making up some weird ‘dogfight’ version of the rules that would have generally have onlookers baffled.

Bob steps into sight then, briefly blocking your view of the game as he places two sodas down on the table between you, before somehow folding his not insignificant height into the booth opposite you. You watch fondly as he ducks forward to sweep back some hair that had uncharacteristically fallen into his eyes, looking almost like someone had ruffled it.

“Thanks!” you pull your drink towards you and take a sip, relishing in the ice-cold fizz that almost burns on its way down your throat.

“Penny said they’re on her,” he tells you, his mussed-up hair making sense now. You turn quickly to find Penny in her usual spot behind the bar, and even as she busily works to serve orders, you catch her eye, and send her a thankful wave. You hadn’t fully figured out why Penny never seemed to charge you or Bob for your drinks, but you were grateful regardless.

“So… opinions on the Spitfire and the Mustang?” you ask, watching the way Bob’s eyes light up behind his oversized glasses.

“The fuel capabilities and combat range of the Mustang outclass Spitfires by a mile,” Bob tells you, leaning forward and clasping his hands together on the table in front of him.

“But I’d be lying if I said that the Spitfire wasn’t my favourite,” he tells you almost giddily, and his smile is contagious.

“I mean, it just looks so cool!” you exclaim in agreement, glad that you were on the same page. Bob’s nose scrunches sweetly as he takes a drink from his glass, nodding all the while.

“I’m going to work on the Mk 24 this weekend,” you tell him a moment later. “The curator at the museum of Naval Aviation is letting me backstage this weekend, so I can take some reference photos of the paintjob,” you had to admit you were rather excited about the whole thing, but even still, you speak somewhat quietly, making sure you won’t be overheard.

It was silly, and you don’t really know where it comes from, but you felt shy about your weekend pass time. Maybe it was because it felt like the hobby of an elderly man, but regardless, you’d found a friend in Bob, who had expressed his fondness for miniature model building upon spying the F-22 Raptor you kept on your desk.

Phoenix had blinked between the two of you that first lunchtime they’d spent in your office, as you’d both discussed at length the model series you liked most, as well as preferred painting techniques. Bob didn’t actively build anything himself; he was too convinced he’d become completely obsessed, and in his own words he ‘didn’t need any more obstacles to getting a date’, but he’d let himself get invested in the online community back during his first deployment.

You’re about to ask if he (and likely by extension, Phoenix) would like to come along with you, but a nearby conversation makes you pause.

“Richter told me it’s cause she waited too long to pull her chute, wasn’t enough time for a clear landing,” a male voice says.

“If she was so good, how’d she mess that up?” another voice asks, scoffing back their disbelief.

“Apparently she refused to eject without WSO, but he got knocked out on first impact,” a third voice fills in, sounding far less derisive.

“I heard that she was lucky she even survived long enough for the medics to find them,” the first voice first voice returns, sounding somewhat awed.

“Guess it’s kind of fortunate she saved her WSO then, huh?” the second voice replies.

“’Fortunate’?! You’re joking, right? Kodiak has to be the unluckiest pilot the Navy has ever had!” the third speaker exclaims, a little louder this time, mirth filling his voice now.

“She got shot down right outta TOPGUN, pulled her chute so late she hit the ground hard enough to puncture both her lungs, and then she contracts some infection or whatever the hell else, wrecking her lungs to the point she’s now got goddamn lung disease!” A pause follows his frantic sounding rant, followed by the sound of an emptied beer bottle being fisted down.

“Honestly, I think I’d just have preferred to die in the crash,” the second person says, his tablemates voicing their quick agreement.

You blink at the frank coldness of the statement, and even though you try, you can’t stop yourself from taking a quick look over your shoulder in the direction of where the voices were coming from. You spy a table with three of your current students, which quickly makes you flick your head back around again before they see you.

Their discussion of your accident doesn’t bother you; you’d come to expect it these days. Whenever a new class came through it was all but inevitable that they would gossip to each other about their civilian instructor, more specifically about your unique situation. You couldn’t blame them really; it wasn’t as though they were wrong about you being incredibly unlucky. Frankly, your fragile health condition felt like an utterly sarcastic response from the universe for having the nerve to be young, driven, and extremely promising in your chosen career. Like the outcome of some Wishmaster bargain.

Back when you’d still been able to fly, you had gotten familiar with being the best. You were a damn good pilot, and it was clear to everyone around you from the moment you got in a cockpit. You never let it go to your head though, after all, it wasn’t just pure natural talent. You had worked incredibly hard to make sure you were outdoing yourself every time you got in the air, to make sure that you were constantly punching up, challenging yourself.

You certainly weren’t the youngest pilot to be invited to go to Miramar to get your TOPGUN certification, not by a long shot, but you were the youngest in over thirty years to graduate top of the class.

Putting yourself in your students’ shoes, knowing all of that, coupled with the fact that you would never again be able to fly… Well, it added up to be a perfect kind of tragedy, really. It was a cautionary tale to some, a dramatic fable to others.

As far as you were concerned, you’d made your peace with your conditions a long time ago. There was no point in dwelling on something you had no control over and couldn’t change. You chose instead to focus on what you could have control over, so you took all your potential, all of that raw talent, and channelled it down a new path.

At the end of the day, you were alive, relatively unharmed, and able to work in a field you adored. You couldn’t complain about that.

“Do you… do you want me to say something?” Bob’s voice cuts through your reverie, and you find yourself blinking back at him with wide, puzzled eyes.

“What?” you ask dopily, unsure of what exactly he meant. Your confusion is cleared up a moment later however, when he dips his chin toward the table of your students, his eyes flickering nervously between you and them. Clearly, he had overheard the conversation too.

Your face softens at that, and you shake your head gently.

“No, it’s alright. They aren’t doing anything wrong,” you wave him off, but deep down, you feel touched that Bob, who seemed to despise any kind of one-on-one confrontation, was willing to step in on your behalf. You see him purse his lips uncertainly.

“What happened to me isn’t exactly usual,” you remind him, trying to sound light and airy. “There’s always some talk surrounding it when I get a new class. They’ll get it out of their systems and move on soon enough,” you assure him, and you mean it, however it takes several more seconds of your companion studying your features before his face and posture relax, and he gives you an almost nervous little nod.

You take a sip of your drink and look away to check the current status of the ongoing pool game. A glance tells you that predictably Hangman was in the lead, but not because of the number of balls he’d sunk, but more due to his peacock-like display from the sidelines. You watch as he turns and cocks his head at Phoenix, saying something clearly taunting, his signature infuriating smirk pulled across his features.

You struggle to keep a straight face when behind Hangman’s back, Payback reaches into the nearest basket and retrieves one of the insufferable blonde’s balls and places it back on the table. You make eye contact as he steps innocently away, and you share a look of sworn secrecy. You wonder briefly how long this has been going on for already, but more than that, you wonder how long it’ll take before Hangman notices.

“How’d you save your WSO?” Bob’s question makes you snap your gaze sharply back to his, and you realise he hadn’t looked away from you yet. You stutter for a moment, before blinking away your surprise.

“I… I released the yoke and shook him awake…” you mutter. Sure, you weren’t bothered when others spoke about your accident, but you never discussed it yourself. Bob considers your words carefully, before he lifts his chin slightly, his eyes flickering between yours.

“That’s why your altitude was so low when you ejected,” it isn’t a question, it’s a missing piece of the puzzle, to him at least, and for the first time in your (admittedly short) friendship, you find yourself forced to look away.

In your efforts to look anywhere but at Bob, you accidentally make eye contact with Hangman. He’s bent over the pool table, facing directly towards you, and with no small amount of amusement behind his look, he holds your gaze and blindly takes his shot, expertly sinking the ball without even looking.

You can picture him performing the trick to impress one of the many women that often fawn over him at the Hard Deck, how the display alone would get them hook, line, and sinker.

You, on the other hand, find yourself practically staring through him as you try to banish all further thoughts of your accident from your mind. Unfortunately, your expression mustn’t be as blank as you’d thought it was, because as Hangman straightens once more to his full height, his eyebrows crease together, and his gaze abruptly flickers down, quickly taking note of how stiff and uncomfortable you are.

When he meets your eyes again, his frown has only deepened, and you watch dumbly as he cocks his head questioningly. It occurs to you then, that you don’t think you’ve ever seen him tip his head like that without a hefty helping of mockery to go alongside it. Concern isn’t exactly an emotion you’re used to from Hangman, and you aren’t really sure of how to process it properly. Instead, you tear your eyes away from him entirely, and face Bob again.

You suddenly can’t remember why this conversation had felt so daunting a moment ago.

“Hey, can we talk about something else?” you ask lightly, thankful when your booth buddy nods happily, looking up as you’re joined by Halo, who deposits a bowl of chips on the table, before squeezing in next to Bob.

You ignore looking in Hangman’s direction for the next hour or so. Normally you had all the patience in the world for Hangman’s button pushing, but right now you’re not sure you can muster up the energy to take any of it.

To be honest you found him amusing, though you were well aware that you’d never been on the receiving end of his more overtly malicious jabs, which he seemed to make less of these days anyway. Unlike most of the people around you, especially aviators, Hangman didn’t treat you as though you would break with the lightest of touches. His blatantly flippant and laissez-faire approach to your generally sensitive circumstances was more than welcome.

Still, even you had bad days, and after your questioning earlier, you didn’t really feel like joking right now. If he was really concerned, he could ask you about it later, but you’re almost certain he’ll have forgotten by tomorrow morning.

***

Just like a reflection of the Hard Deck itself, as the night wanes on, your already cramped booth steadily fills up with aviators. The scarred wooden table at the centre is scattered with empty glasses and beer bottles, and the bowl of fries Halo had brought over earlier was long devoured. The pool game had ended some time ago, the polished edges of the table now being used as extra seating, which you know Penny would hate.

You’d found it thankfully easy to put aside the heaviest aspects of your earlier tailspin, checking into the rowdy conversation happily. A few of the younger pilots, not your students, had approached the table earlier, and after they’d left again, to fill another round most likely, you’d found yourself bashfully rolling your eyes and shaking your head as the squad had heckled you over the mooning of the younger men.

It had to be nearing midnight when you at last extract yourself from the sticky seating. The air had become hot and heady now, not just within the space of your booth, but throughout the bar as a whole. It wasn’t too bad, but it did feel thick in your lungs, and you knew it could quickly grow into a large problem for you, may as well refresh yourself now.

Stepping through the door to the empty back deck of the venue, you’re amazed at how much noise the simple wood and glass doors can muffle. The night was dark, but in front of you somewhere, you can hear the lapping of the waves, and you step out closer to the railing, breathing in deeply the sea salt air.

You’re a little ashamed to say you jump at the sound of the back door opening again, the roar inside drowning out the ocean for a few seconds, and you turn back to see Hangman gently closing the door behind him.

He wears an easy expression as his eyes fall on you, and you look away to lean back against the railings as he approaches.

“Everything alright?” The lightness in his voice is easily discernible as put on, but frankly, you’re too surprised by the question to figure out why.

“Huh?” you blink up at him with a frown as he comes to lean against the rail besides you, his back toward the ocean and his arms crossed over his chest. The pose, and his proximity make him seem even larger.

“Earlier, you, uh, you looked all…” he doesn’t finish his sentence, and you note that he also doesn’t mockingly demonstrate however he thought you’d looked. You straight up a little, your frown smoothing out.

“Oh, everything is fine. Bob just… he just asked me something about my crash,” you only decide halfway through your sentence to tell him the truth, and you can tell by the ensuing pause, and the way he flicks his eyes carefully over your face that he hadn’t really been expecting you to tell him.

As if he realises his surprise has been visible, he clears his throat and looks away from you, back toward the doors.

“Huh. Wouldn’ta thought Bobby-Boy had it in him,” he says shifting his stance slightly, still not looking back at you. You can practically hear him thinking.

“Hm, you clearly don’t know him very well,” you say wryly, your smile only growing when his face whips back to yours, an almost mortified look of alarm painted over his features.

“Oh Jesus, Jake, not like that,” you reach out and shove his arm roughly, giving a scoff at his stupid man-brain.

Predictably, your shove doesn’t do too much to dislodge him, but you can at least enjoy the feeling of his hard muscle under your hand for a moment. His alarm is replaced with a derisive sort of disgust, but you can tell it's playful more than anything else.

“Good,” he says flatly, and this time doesn’t look away from you, resuming his regular routine of using his stare as some kind of powerplay. You shake your head even as you glance back to squint out at the ocean, your smile still pulling at your lips involuntarily.

“You’re so insecure,” you tease him, earning a scoff.

“Excuse me?!”

You can see his chest puffing out of the corner of your gaze.

“I take my attention off of you for one second and you’re going nutter-butter and getting all pouty about it,” you chortle, glancing briefly back up at him. Even in the dim outdoor lighting you can see the light pink wash that has coloured his ears.

He’s seemingly only able to glower down at you in response, clearly unimpressed at just how aware you were that you had him wrapped around your finger. He scoffs again, looking away, but doesn’t speak, and your grin widens.

You liked him when he was like this. You liked him all the time, but especially when he gave up on trying to get the upper hand in the conversation, and just let things be. When he was a little less Hangman and a little more Jake. It strikes you, however, that he doesn’t even attempt to argue back, the silence stretching on between you saying more than enough.

You look away and nudge him once more, using your whole shoulder this time, which seems to take him off guard, and he sways lightly at your touch.

“Besides, I only have eyes for one aviator,” you say lightly. Hangman’s shoulders square, and his lips begin to form a familiar Cheshire grin as straightens up to his full height, looking down at you almost haughtily.

“Damn straight,”

“I was talking about Rooster,” you tease, and you’re glad the playfulness has returned, his hand covering his heart as his face twists in faux pain.

“You’re cruel, you know that darlin’?”

You let out a laugh as Hangman stares down at you, the fond look in his eyes only turning sharp and annoyed when the back door opens again, and you both look up to spy an unfamiliar man stepping out of the bar.

He seems oblivious to the moment he’s interrupted, sending you both a quick nod before he moves to stand a couple of metres away from you at the railing, his hands fiddling with something. You watch as he tucks a cigarette between his lips, and lifts his lighter to the ends, cupping his free hand around the flame so the cool breeze won’t blow it out.

Before you get a chance to say anything, besides you your companion has stiffened, straightening to his full height once again and stepping away from the rail.

“You can’t smoke here,” he says loudly, catching the guy’s attention as he blows out his first puff, and shoves his lighter away. He looks around at the decking, before his eyes land back on Hangman.

“I don’t see a sign,” he says evenly.

Hangman has stepped around you completely now, almost blocking your view of the other man, who you must note, wouldn’t stand a chance against the aviator if he decided to get physical.

“Listen buddy, my friend’s got a pretty sensitive lung problem, if she breathes in any of that, she’ll get real sick, so I’m asking if you can go stand somewhere else?”

You’re surprised by his words, and despite the patient sound of them, his tone is nowhere near as restrained. You gently reach out for the arm that he’d used to gesture back at you, even as the other man blows out another smokey breath.

“Jake, it’s fine, we can go,” you say, a pit building in your stomach when he doesn’t even look back down at you, the muscle of his jaw beginning to tick.

“Yeah. You can go,” the other man smirks, and somehow, it’s even more infuriating and smug than any of Hangman’s has ever been.

Your grip on your friend’s arm tightens too late as he pulls away from you, reaching the other man in only two strides as you call out for him to stop. Ignoring you, Hangman rips the cigarette from the other man’s mouth and tosses it into the sand, where it blows out.

“Jake!” you shout, a little louder as he gets in the other guy’s face, and you realise your voice is echoed by another.

Phoenix stands in the open doorway, and behind her you can see Coyote by the booth, throwing a curious glance your way. You shake your head at him, just as Phoenix repeats her stern call. Hangman snaps out of it, and steps back from the man. By the time he’s turned back to you, his face reads nothing of the anger he’d just displayed.

“Come on, it’s getting cold, anyway,” he says flippantly. You’re only able to frown at him, but he seems to ignore it, carefully pushing past Phoenix who still stands in the doorway, fixing Jake with a firm look he subsequently brushes off.

“Guy was an asshole,” he mutters by way of explanation. She moves aside for you to follow, and you can only give her a shrug in response to the eyebrow she raises at you.

You find yourself following Jake as he leads you back towards the bar, instead of the booth, and when your senses finally come back to you, you smack his arm sharply.

“You didn’t need to do that! The last thing you need is to get cited for fighting. They’d ground you!” you scold, even as he guides you into one of the stools.

“Nah, you love it, s’why you keep me around,” he rebuffs, flagging down a bartender and relaying your drinks order. You frown at him again as he leans casually against the wooden surface and looks down at you.

“No… I keep you around because you’re my friend,” you tell him, still annoyed, though it lessens when his smirk morphs into something more like surprise.

Your drinks are pushed toward you with nary another word, and Jake taps his card without even breaking your eye contact.

“How’d you even know I can get sick from smoke?” you change the subject quickly, but his face only turns even more bashful, and he looks down at his beer and shrugs.

“Mav told us,” he says, making you blanch.

“He what?” you demand, almost angry for a moment. You didn’t like being treated like glass, you didn’t like when people worried over you unnecessarily–

“He just said we should always wash up before going to your office, the jet fumes were enough to irritate your lungs.”

Your anger subsides, and you feel a little foolish. Of course, Mav hadn’t told them out of pity. He was right, the harsh fumes lingering on their flight suits could be enough to make your respiratory system inflamed. You’d learnt the hard way after you’d started teaching.

“Just figured if traces on us were enough to make you sick, then second-hand smoke definitely would,” Jake follows up, cutting his eyes back towards you, and you can’t help but smile softly. You lean forwards, chin resting in your palm, making him cock his head down at you.

“For someone who takes pride in pissing off his friends, you really do care a lot, don’t you?” Your question makes him bluster, and he tries his best to look nonchalant and annoyed, but his quirking lips give him away.

He leans in toward you too, close enough that you almost pull back, but you steal yourself instead as he gets a hold of his face, and fixes you with an infuriating, yet fond smirk.

“Only for you, Teddy Bear.”

[hislittleraincloud]

✨💕🖤#Wenovan/#BlackBubblegum AI hug💙💕✨

[1425fivefive]

Pain or ache for wip search game, feeling brave for angst. Not really but we power through.

Congrats on finishing part one! 🥹 (Also what do you mean “after not eating fish for four years” are you joking. I’m not surviving this fic)

“Like this, yeah?” Oscar said, and Lando nodded, breathless, before tugging Oscar against him, whimpering shamelessly against Oscar’s mouth, like it cost him nothing. 

Maybe it didn’t. Lando was a world champion. Oscar had no idea what that might feel like.

The thought made Oscar’s eyes ache and he kissed Lando, hard, with an edge of sharpness, like kissing was something he could win.

[shimshamshimsham]

Welcome to my blog ! why are you here .

music acc: @galvixen

Important info !

-i am a minor

-i use she/it pronouns

-i am aro/acespec, bi and trans

-i make comic dub s on you tuber

Here's some tags ifu wanna see my original stuff:

#yt - promotion for my youtube stuff

#my art - take a wild guess

#text post - stuff that's purely text

#comic - personal comics I've made, tho there might be some reblogs in there idk

#afterburn - my original comic ! I plan to make an actual story thing someday , but fn these are just small snippets of me messing around .

Stuff I reblog ! :

-things I find funny

-queer whatevrs (trans stuff , ace stuff , other)

-fandom stuff ( eg . undertale/deltarune , homestuck , amphibia , and various other stuffs . )

-important shits (Palestine , occasional us politics , and serious transgender stuff )

my carrd:

Thanks for reading ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! enjoy my blog . or else .

donate to gazafunds btw ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !

[hislittleraincloud]

Sorry not sorry snobs, mine is from the Van Vick area of Germany 🇩🇪

...💩⛓️🍻

It’s only fanfic if it’s from the Fanfique region of France. Otherwise it’s just sparkling pornography.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Fic Rec Masterlist

As requested, here is the list of all the fics recommended for my road trip :) Thank you to everyone who sent them in!

*if I missed any, let me know*

Many of these are 18+ and please read any warnings

Jake "Hangman" Seresin:

Damn Those Dog tags - @horseshoegirl (series)

Don't Hang'em Til Noon - @sailor-aviator (series)

If You Please - @the-authoress-writes (one-shot)

This is Only Temporary - @lenafromthenordiccoven (mini-series)

The Backup - @ereardon (series; in progress)

Snowed In - @ereardon (mini-series)

Sleepy Baby - @discount-shades (series)

Contract Spouse - @discount-shades (series)

Dead or Alive - @discount-shades (series)

Fuck: The Universe - @roosterbruiser (series)

Snitches Get Stitches - @goldenseresinretriever (series)

Oh, Deer - @wkndwlff (one-shot)

She Blinded Me with Science - @wkndwlff (one-shot)

Pulled Strings - @missathlete31 (one-shot)

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw:

it's a slow build, baby, until afterburn - @callsign-madusa (series)

Terms of Endearment - @ohtobeleah (series)

The Actress and The Aviator - @greenorangevioletgrass (series)

That Summer - @ereardon (series)

Golden Hour - @ereardon (series; also with Bob; in progress)

Cruel Summer - @roosterbruiser (series; with Jake)

Cardinal Rule - @mamachasesmayhem (series; in progress)

Heavy is the Head - @mamachasesmayhem (series; in progress)

Honeyverse - @mamachasesmayhem (series)

Je te Laisserai Des Mots - @jupitercomet (series)

How You Play the Game - @roosterforme (series)

The Boyfriend Experience - @notroosterbradshaw (series)

Sunday Scaries - @wkndwlff (one-shot)

Bottoms Up - @wkndwlff (one-shot)

Ao3:

Wingmen - TheDarkSeaofSecrets

My Brother's Best Friend - Lyndun407

The Mission - Lyndun407

Recommended Masterlists:

Masterlist - @roosterforme

Masterlist - @wkndwlff

Masterlist - @bobfloydsbabe

Masterlist - @demxters

Masterlist - @hangmanssunnies

Masterlist - @top-hhun

@talkfastromance4

Masterlist - @callsign-phoenix

Masterlist - @kryptonitejelly

Masterlist - @callsigndragon

@callsignlucky

Masterlist - @jupitercomet

Masterlist - @beyondthesefourwalls

[witchy-worm]

It's posting day for my first @deancashorrorfest collab! This year was a reverse bang, @shineforthee claimed my art piece and wrote a truly incredible fic for it. Please go check it out here: Link to Fic

I wanted to do something a bit different with this one, so I started off by drawing Cas, Dean, and the basic background in Illustrator. Then I imported it into photoshop and painted in most of the details.

Special thanks to our @deancashorrorfest mod for running such a smooth and fun event! This was my first time doing horrorfest but I'll definitely be back for more.

Banner and fic info behind the cut

Author: @shineforthee | Artist: @witchy-worm

Rating: Mature

Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Grief & Loss, Ambiguous Ending, Derealization, Apocalypse, Suicidal Ideation

Summary: Dean has always known it was ending. The world, that is. He knew it when he was three, awake and screaming in the middle of the night with the image of fire leaving an afterburn behind his eyelids. He knew it while he learned to ride a bike, while he went to his first school dance, had his first kiss, tipped back his first beer with his dad. He knew it when dad left, too. When Sammy died. When it all began to crumble.

He has always known it was ending. Now he's alone in a cabin somewhere so far north and so far west that he thinks half the continent never knew it existed in the first place, and he's got the same damn nightmares, the same burn behind his eyes, and the sense that ending is a verb that goes on and on into eternity and outside of time.

[bunkoos-mole-enthusiast]

Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors:) Every Kind Of Way: Three little vignettes, three completely different experiences, same perfectly wonderful boyfriend JK. https://gukslut.tumblr.com/post/187387424476/every-kind-of-way-m-jjk Cake: Wedding night with JK. https://gukslut.tumblr.com/post/642965300830257152/cake-m-jjk House Of Balloons: Fleeing from your high-society life to defy your parents and everything you've been raised with, you find yourself at the House of Balloons. A den of darkness, allure, and chaos. And there's Jungkook, waiting to challenge your beliefs - and your very sense of self. https://www.tumblr.com/guksvault/767384374567124992/house-of-balloons-jjk

Foundation: You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? https://hamsterclaw.tumblr.com/post/670899863885627393/foundation

Soft: Jungkook doesn’t think of himself as being overly emotional. Why does everyone keep telling him he wears his heart on his sleeve? https://hamsterclaw.tumblr.com/post/673718918338199552/soft Criminal: You and your partner, Taehyung, are investigating the murder of a lawyer. Your investigation forces you to uncover truths that hit a little too close to home. https://hamsterclaw.tumblr.com/post/664691974863028224/criminal Tag: You met Jungkook years ago, when you were a rookie cop and he was brought in for defacing public property. Now he's an established artist, and a chance encounter brings you together. https://www.tumblr.com/hamsterclaw/688159803449688064/tag

Lush: Jungkook’s built his empire from nothing, and he’s damn well going to sit back and enjoy the spoils. https://hamsterclaw.tumblr.com/post/684065491693748224/lush

Politico: Jungkook and you are staffers in the office of the Secretary of State. He's cut-throat, sneaky and goddamn it, everything you love about politics in one irresistible package. https://www.tumblr.com/hamsterclaw/699971996899016704/politico?source=share Afterburner: All Jungkook's ever wanted to do is fly, and he's damned good at it. Then you turn up, and get under his skin. https://www.tumblr.com/hamsterclaw/708450617638649856/afterburner?source=share

[hislittleraincloud]

I make it a point not to read fan fic while in the process of writing my own because I don't like any of it to influence my writing, and I would rather any ideas I have come organically from thought, either deep or fleeting. However, since my Afterburn Wenclay relationship is set in its game-playing stone at the moment as I continue to work on Chapter 8 and beyond (in the beyond that was written over a year ago, Bianca is actually Wednesday's second in command for many reasons), I figured that it would be fine to read this one.

All that registered in my brain for this one is that we need more of it in this fandom. While it's got some technical issues (needs copyediting), the tone, the characterizations, the tension and angst...it's all there. Pin-pointed, with the accuracy of Bianca's foil strike.

Finally figured out what to name my fic.

Wednesday Addams has gone insane. That must be it, because why else would she stand here and accuse Bianca of using her siren song on her.

And Bianca must be insane also. Why else would she stand here and plead her case to someone who clearly didn't believe her.

[nicoleeblossom]

Multiple Characters x Reader...

main masterlist📌 | Multiple x Reader Part 2

*·˚Don’t forget to reblog, follow, like, and comment on the authors’ or artists’ pages. Show them some love!

*·˚Broken link or @? Pop a note in the comments or my ask box.

Works by @miniwheat77

Sizes. 141+Alejandro x Reader: Who has the biggest dick?

By Nature, She’s Naughty: Y/n was a wild one

Works by @mistydeyes

Hunk-o-mania Pt.1: The boys thought wrong, now they’re performing

Playboy Bunny Pheonix Edition Pt.2: The boys are very pleased with the solution

Opposite Occupations Pt.1: They realize that all the long hours are worth it

Take A Walk In My Shoes Pt.2: A day in your life

Almost Military Wives GC Pt.3: What goes on when the boys are deployed

Works by @sprout-fics

Afterburn: Just 6 dudes taking care of their girl

Poly 141 x Reader: It takes weeks, month for you all to put the place in order, and by the end of it all, you’re exhausted

Works by @loveindefinitely

Need To Listen To Me: that was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room

Lust for Life: You’re suddenly all too desperate to get back at your father and experiment a thing or two

Works by @the-californicationist

They Help You Practice: You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

The Window, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7:

Works by @charliemwrites

From SpecGru With Love

Men at Work

Works by @tojisun

Nosy Neighbours

Sugar, Spice, Everything on Ice

Keeping Him Quiet

141 + König First Word Reactions by @starstruckmiraclekitty: Reactions to their babies’ first words

Be Gentle Man Pt.1 and Be Gentle Man Pt.2 by @rileyslibrary: Etiquette training

Breeding Team by @sirenmoth: AU where reader is an omega who took suppressants

Strip Poker Pt.1 by @catsnkooks: Soap’s CO brought out some cards

Cachorrita Pt.1 and Cachorrita Pt.2 Los Vaqueros x Reader by @lxstfathier: Caught in the middle of narco violence, you are taken in

Civillian Asset by @cuckoo-on-a-string: There’s blood under your nails and a threat to your life

Sparrow by @diejager: Their tense shoulders slouched, finally knowing where you went

With Them, Who Swallowed a Star by @vellichor-of-the-solivagant: Now, he made music out of you

Home is Where You Are by @1-ker0sene-1: "Taking good care of our boys John…You always do…Making sure you all come home to me again”

Cook!reader x 141 and The Assistant by @bookbrokelibrarian:

Lift Me Off My Feet by @lovifie:

Cherry Bomb by @swordsandholly

FFS Riley Collection by @dozeydaisy

Dad!141 x Mama!Reader by @baduzzxy

Mafia!141 AU, Ext. by @ghouljams

Suite 141 by @mangowafflesss

Contractors!141 by @kyletogaz

Down the Hatch by @syoddeye

Frozen Hearts Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7 by @lushrve

Can’t Stop Thinking About Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4, Pt.5, Pt.6, Pt.7, Pt.8, Pt.9, Pt.10 by @a-b-riddle

Free Use by @bzurk

Really Good Neighbours by @dragonnarrative-writes

Whole Other Notebook by @auspicioustidings

Retired!141 x Rancher!Reader by @purple-moonbeam

Lifeline by @indigosunsetao3

Ranking by @gardenthatneversleeps

You’re Only Sixteen by @siddyyyyyyyy

On The Run by @devil-in-hiding

Hair Series by @kyletogaz

Secret Baby by @gloomwitchwrites

The Office AU by @flowerfreya

Loop by @eevee-of-eternity

Restaurant Au! 141 by @disgustingtwitches

Blue-Collar!141 x Reader by @xo-codbby

Naps to Lovers by @i-love-you-just-the-same

Y/N Being Feral for Her Future Husband by @feralgoblinqueen

Mafia!141 by @cordeliawhohung

Neglected Reader by @simonbrain

Lavender Marriage Pt.1 and Pt.2 AU by @beloveds-embrace

Services/Goods of Equivalent Value by @auspicioustidings

Mafia!141 by @vnards

Mermaid Reader, Part 2, Part 3 by @homeofthelonelywriter

Dividers by @bernardsbendystraws

[honkytonk-hangman]

Flight Risk

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: The sky beyond the baking tarmac is cloudless, and washed with deep reds and oranges, the way it always is by the time Jake lands when the monthly inter-squad training simulation has drawn to a close. Almost always.

Today, the sky had been a bright Carolina blue.

Today, Hangman had been shot down.

Warnings: cussing? jake being soppy. mentions of handsy dates, sexual referencessss

Notes: so this started as an AU for my fic Afterburn, and still technically is, however it can be read totally independently of that story as well.

Jake is perched in a casual lean against his plane, watching as the last jet in the pattern finally lands, continuing to wait patiently as the Super Hornet is guided to its designated area, just a few places down from his own. The sky beyond the baking tarmac is cloudless, and washed with deep reds and oranges, the way it always is by the time Jake lands when the monthly inter-squad training simulation has drawn to a close. Almost always.

Today, the sky had been a bright Carolina blue.

Today, Hangman had been shot down.

Jake takes a small amount of comfort in knowing that the pilot responsible for his simulated demise is also the pilot to win the day, despite that meaning his own squad losing out on the point. It wouldn’t happen again, however. He’d foolishly underestimated you, disregarded the gossip he’d overheard about Samurai squad’s newest member, choosing instead to judge for himself. Jake was a prideful son of a bitch at the best of times, and much worse at most others, but he wasn’t actually incapable of shutting the hell up and accepting his slice of humble pie.

At least, he’d accept it in his own special way, which is exactly why he waits long after the others have filtered off to the locker rooms. They’re already clocked off for the day by the time the ground crew have secured the last jet, and the pilot has climbed down. Jake shifts on his feet and gets a good look as you approach, purposefully giving you a suggestive up and down as you spot him and slow your walk.

“That was some flyin’,” he says, pushing off the side of his own jet and coming to stand before you. You blink at him, but raise an eyebrow as you manoeuvre your helmet to rest against your hip.

“I’m sorry, do we know each other?” you ask, eyes sparkling in amusement. Jake grabs at his chest, like you’ve shot him down again, and winces.

“Aw, c’mon, Kodiak” he starts, before fixing you with a piercing stare. “I don’t give out compliments that often, give it to me easy.”

“Only thing I’ll give you is my afterburner.”

Jake can’t help himself, he grins wide. He knows he should keep up the banter, you were clearly well equipped to spar with him, didn’t seem to take anything too personally so far, but all he can think as he stares at the first pilot to ever shoot him down, sweat slicking your flyaway hairs to your forehead, the sunsetting below the tarmac behind you, your cheeks a little ruddy from your time in the air, is that he’s going to marry you.

Luckily, Jake has the good sense to keep this to himself for now.

He steps forward slightly, and holds out his hand, watching as you eye it suspiciously for a moment.

“I’m Hangman,” he tells you as you relent and shake his hand.

“I know who you are, that's why I went for you first.” you reply with surprisingly little smugness in your voice, just plain truth. Jake lifts an eyebrow at you.

“Using me to raise your profile I see,” he teases. You don’t seem to notice that you’re still shaking his hand, and Jake feels slightly thankful, because he’s memorising the way it feels. You scoff at him.

“And what would you have done?” you challenge. Jake just looks your features over, and decides an evening ceremony will be perfect.

You realise then that you’re still shaking his hand, and you hurriedly pull away, moving to hold your helmet in both hands as if to stop yourself from reaching out again.

“I need to go do my post-flight checks,” you say quickly, sidestepping Jake and moving off toward the hanagar, and probably the showers. Jake turns and watches you go, his smile never faltering.

“Kodiak!” he calls out, waiting for you to stop and turn back to him before going on. “I enjoyed flying with you.” Jake tells you honestly, but musters his most serious expression so that you’ll know that too. He watches your brows furrow suspiciously for a moment, almost like you’re expecting him to laugh like it’s just a prank, but after a couple more seconds, your frown smooths into something more curious, before your face at last completely softens and you give him a small, but genuine smile.

“I enjoyed shooting you down,” you reply, your voice sincere, but your words catching him off guard and making Jake let out a surprised bark of laughter. 

Your smile widens just a little in the corners, like perhaps you had liked making him laugh, but soon enough you’re shifting your helmet in your hands again, and giving him a parting nod before once again you turn your back and walk away.

Jake stands still in place and watches as you shrink before at last disappearing entirely into the hangar. Once sure he’s alone, he places his hands on his hips and lets out a long, low whistle. He feels his heartbeat thump away rapidly in his chest, his adrenaline still spiking from just the thrill of speaking to you properly and in person for the first time, after being forced only to listen to your voice all afternoon on the radios.

It was a very nice voice, he thinks, both in person and on the radios, and it suits your very nice face very nicely. With a last whistle of approval, Jake begins making his own way inside, and even though he’d promised himself earlier that never again would he let you shoot him down, now he can’t help but think anything that brought you enjoyment was worth repeating.

Replaying your conversation over and over as he finally showers, changes, and heads home for the night, the first thing Jake does upon arriving in his apartment is reach for the pad and pen he keeps on the kitchen counter. He scribbles down the date, and writes out the highlights from your conversation as best as he remembers them. Peeling it off the pad, he folds it neatly, before placing it carefully inside the leather bound folder that held such items as his passport and birth certificate, before replacing it again in its hiding spot.

He wouldn’t need the contents of the note for a little while, he thinks, but when it came time to write the speech he’d give at your wedding, Jake wanted to know exactly where he could find it.

“Well, that was pathetic,” Javy nudges Jake in the ribs, and nods in your direction across the bar. Jake, who until now has been trying hard not to look your way, is finally given the perfect reason to do so, and swings his eyes over to you.

You’re sitting near the bar in your civvies, with a man who Jake can’t help but notice is not himself, and who is currently being awfully handsy for his liking. You don’t look completely comfortable either, but he also knows you have no trouble telling men to calm down when you aren’t feeling their advances. Neither reason adds up to exactly why Jake almost immediately chooses to abandon Javy by the pool table.

Part way across the bar, Jake realises that it’s not even a rescue attempt he’s trying for, clearly you were fine, no, this reaction from him is entirely new, spurred on by a good many things, but right now, by the abysmal looking date you were enduring. He slows his pace, and begins to move at a more natural gait, his lack of rush having no active affect on the crowds around him either way. Jake was both tall enough and wide enough that people tend to part for him as he walks regardless of asking.

He feels his chest puff out a little when you notice him coming before he even reaches you, and how even though he positions himself at the bar behind you, you seem to subconsciously turn a little to be able to look over at him anyway. Jake grins to himself when your ‘date’ seems to flounder at your seemingly captured attention, and quickly asks if you’d like another of the little cocktails you’d picked that night.  Jake can’t help but scoff internally. He’d asked you once why you drank beer with the squad, but only ordered fruit drinks when you had a date, to which you’d replied that you thought it appeared more feminine. Jake scoffs again, this time out loud.

“You’ll let this guy take you out, but not me? You don’t even like that, you’re not even drinking it!” he says quietly enough so that only you are able to hear the clipped annoyance in his words. You cock your head at him, and raise your straw to your lips either spitefully or indignantly.

“Still sour about that Jakey?” you tease. Despite the subject matter, and his frustration that these men you went out with seemingly had something Jake did not, he can’t help but feel pride pump through his veins upon seeing the way your face, especially your eyes, have lit up for the first time all night, something which he thinks should be a bare minimum when. If a man couldn’t engage you, then he just wasn’t good enough for you, was he?

Jake shrugs noncommittally in response to your question, both of you knowing full well the answer to that. Instead, he looks away from you briefly as the bartender approaches, but feels your gaze burning the side of his cheek.

“Two beers please,” he says, paying and waiting patiently for the drinks to be deposited on the bar before he looks back at you again. He nudges one in your direction, pretending as though he doesn’t care if you accept it or not, by taking a sip of his own. His faux-apathy is completely blown by the way he doesn’t take his eyes off of you, even as he drinks, waiting to see whether or not you’ll take the beer. You watch him with the barest amount of disapproval that you can muster, before almost shyly collecting up the chilled glass bottle in your hands.

“Are you forgetting something, perhaps? Oh, it’s super important, the name is on the tip of my tongue! What're they called again…?” you purse your lips and frown deeply, making an almost sincere show of recalling the information you’re after.

Jake waits as you seem to get it at last, snapping your finger and pointing it at him. “Fraternisation laws!” you exclaim overly enthusiastic for the topic at hand, contrasting with the way you stare flatly at him. Jake brushes your finger aside as he turns inward to face you fully, and cocks his head curiously down at you.

“You know I’ve already got my half of the paperwork filled out Teddy Bear, I’m just waitin’ on you.” Jake leans in toward you as he speaks, moving in near enough that one might call it risque, but he prefers intimate. For your part, you seem to be trying hard to suppress a smile, which you don’t succeed at, however you still shake your head at him anyway, and pull back, which makes Jake immediately step out of your space a little, returning to an appropriate distance for two officers.

“I bet you say that to all the pilots.” you say quietly, almost to yourself. The line is a worn cliche, he almost writes it off, except that your tone is entirely new, and entirely too put-out for your usual wave offs.

“Only the ones that keep shooting me down,” he replies after a beat watching you, not really certain how else he should reply to this development in your now storied routine of rejecting his interest, even though he knows that you like him very much. Fraternisation had been the last reason, though, nobody really took that seriously enough to not even bother navigating its murky depths of paperwork, but before that you’d listed not being hungry enough for dinner and having to video call with your model-building partner, neither serious excuses, right?

At this point Jake isn’t what one might say is desperate, but is what one might call unwilling to watch you sit through another completely inadequate date, with men who seemed to always be on the worst side of interested in you. That meant they fell somewhere firmly between sleazy and handsy, neither category of which was amongst Jake’s personal favourite reasons for liking you so much, which in no particular order included your excellence as an aviator, your sharp sense of humour, and your unbridled ambition.

Up until now, though, you’ve never once turned him away with something that sounded so much like it might be true. You’ve also never once stared up at him the way you are now, your expression significant, but unreadable to him.

Then, after thinking perhaps he had gotten somewhere real with you tonight, Jake feels a familiar twinge of disappointment as you turn back to your date, moving in closer to talk quietly with the man.

Jake looks down at his beer and lets out a sigh, ready to leave you to your fun, and return to his prior activity of pretending not to watch you from afar. When the man accompanying you noisily  steps back from the bar, the movement catches Jake’s eye, and he turns to see as the man looks briefly between you, before his eyes swing to Jake.

Jake hasn’t even caught on properly yet when your apparent former date turns on his heel and stalks darkly into the crowd, before at last disappearing entirely. Now free of your upsettingly poor choice of date, you swing your chair back around to face him, knees knocking into him with enough force to jolt Jake back to reality, where he discovers things to have played out almost exactly as he’d thought he’d been imagining them.

“Alright Seresin, you’ve got one shot at this,” you tell him, sounding like you don’t really mean it at all. Even so, Jake straightens and fixes you with his best self-assured smirk, but only because he knows you like it when he does.

“One shot is all I need,” he says proudly, before a few seconds pass and he finds himself blinking at the unintentional disclaimer he’s just given. “I mean, I’ll gladly take as many shots as you want, but–”

“Jesus, Jake! Anyone would think you haven't been laid in months!” you cut him off with a bark of laughter, your features in almost complete disbelief at such a thing. Jake pauses, hesitating with how he should respond, but eventually relaxes once more, and leans down on the bar again to fix you with his stare.

“Two months,” he informs you simply. You actually snort this time, which he finds utterly adorable, and you continue to chortle at his apparent joke, until you seem to realise he isn’t joining you. Your face falls then, and you blink at him in surprise, a flash of guilt mixing in with it, before you quickly attempt to play off your astonishment.

“Like, Seriously?” You ask, staring at him. Jake just nods, giving a short shrug, but doesn’t break your eye contact. After several more seconds pass, heavy with your bewilderment, you settle in your spot beside him one more, and let out a small huff. “Saving yourself for somebody special, then?” your eyebrows lift up as you ask, voice lilting with humour, but you don’t fully smile yet, like you’re afraid of still possibly offending him. Jake simply shrugs again, but rolls his eyes lightly. 

He’s well aware of his reputation before you, as is almost all on base who know him, or those who frequent the Navy bars scattered nearby. He thinks maybe he should have gone about distributing the updated information on him, however, because as far as Jake is concerned, he had been off the market for quite some time.

Unofficially, anyway.

“Oh, she’s very special, darlin’. Someone worth saving myself for. I think you’d like her a lot,” Jake does his best not to sound too goofy about it, but he swings almost too far the opposite way, and finds himself hoping to god that the purring quality to his voice as he speaks isn’t too much.

You stare at Jake for several seconds processing his line briefly, before at last scoffing and rolling your eyes as you turn slightly away from him to take a sip of your drink. Despite this reaction likely wounding a lesser man, Jake knows his words have resonated at least a little, because both your scoff or your eye roll half-hearted at best, both also completely undermined by the not-so-tiny smile you clearly can’t repress properly, even if you try to hide it by taking another sip.

“Answer me this, Seresin;” you start when a few minutes have passed, Jake having also taken to sipping his beer, choosing to let the subject settle between you for a bit. “I know about you, and I’m not like, slut-shaming you or anything, but how do I know all of this isn’t just the usual bullshit you parcel out? How do I know I’m not just another in a long line of others?” you ask, your voice surprisingly light for the frankness and seriousness of your words. Jake blinks at you, his brow furrowing this time, and notes the way your gaze flickers to the crease between his brows for half a second.

He places his beer down and blows out a puff of air. He doesn’t answer you right away, can’t really, because on some level he realises telling you that he’s been planning your lives together since the day you’d met won’t go down super well, but he also doesn’t want to misrepresent the level of his feelings toward you.

“Well, you don’t. I mean, you are,” he speaks carefully, already expecting the frown that appears on your face almost immediately, and quickly goes on. “But you’re the last in that line. I can promise you that.” Jake’s voice becomes involuntarily quieter as he finishes speaking, and he hates the uncertain sound the softness gives his words, but knows saying them again will only cheapen them.

You stare at one another for several heart-thumping seconds, and Jake wonders if the rest of the bar has all but disappeared for you too, or if you were still well aware of everything going on around you. For all Jake knew, the bar didn’t even exist right now. And then you move, your eyes bouncing up to blink at him slowly like a cat, before they drop to your feet in an embarrassed sort of way Jake can truthfully say he’d never have imagined of you.

“I asked Javy a few weeks ago if you were sick, or something,” you say, looking back up at him with a laugh in your voice now. “I saw you turn down, like, six different women that night, and I don’t know, I was genuinely concerned for your health.” You tell him, making a small smile pull at the corners of Jake’s lips that you’d been worried about him at all, had watched him long enough to see him turn others away.

“You know what he said? He just rolled his eyes at me and said that, no, actually, you weren’t fine at all, that you were in love with me, and if he’s honest, it wasn’t cute anymore, and had become totally insufferable,” You laugh properly this time as you relay the information, and Jake can’t help but chuckle too.

“And so you thought you’d let me stew for a few more weeks? Have I not been a good boy enough already?” Jake asks with an amused twinkle in his eyes. He knew he was getting to the end of his rope tonight, but in reality, it never mattered to him how many weeks or months you made him wait, any amount of time would have been worth it. You shrug and dip your eyes away from him to dance around the room.

“Not exactly. I mean, I didn’t totally believe Javy, but I figured there might’ve been some truth there. I mean what is this, like, the… fifth time in two months you’ve asked me out?” You question, half to yourself as you do some maths.

“Fifth times the charm,” Jake replies seriously, having no other memory anymore of how the quote is supposed to go and not entirely realising he’s said it wrong at all. You snicker at this glimpse at just how far gone he is, but he doesn’t mind.

“I’m sorry I didn’t give you a real chance before now,” you say quietly, before pulling a conciliatory expression. “But to be fair, if you were any other guy, I’d be totally right about you… I still could be,” you sound as though you’re trying to convince yourself, and trial off after biting your lower lip in a distracted sort of way. Jake nods, understanding your hesitation. You weren’t to know that he cared about you more than anyone he’d met before, more than anyone ever could, but he’s also aware that there was no point to talking the big talk when it came to things like this.

“Well now, excuse me Darlin’! I didn’t work so damned hard on my exceptionally slutty past for you to just sweep it all aside for me! It’s just plain disrespectful,” Jake blusters, playing up his accent as much as he can, but still only coming out sounding half indignant. You blink in surprise at his disapproval, and quickly try to hide the sound of your snort as it escapes through another laugh, clearly taken aback and not expecting this angle from him.

“So this is what's gonna happen instead; you’re gonna make me work just as hard for this, for you, and once you’ve made yourself an honest man outta me, then we can talk about being right or wrong,” Jake states matter-of-factly, like he isn’t simultaneously pleading you for more than this, and begging you to stand your ground at the same time.

Jake’s most frequent and recurring nightmare these past months had been the idea of getting you, then losing you. He isn’t lying about working hard to have his reputation, Jake didn’t do commitment, he didn’t do more than one night, and if he did, it was never because he wanted more. He knows relationships and intimacy are the furthest thing from his forte by choice, so if he was going to get the chance to be with you, he wanted to do it properly, to do it right.

Your laughter turns softer, pulling him from his reverie. He finds you watching him, considering his words as he’d trailed off somewhere in his head while waiting for your response. There's a small twinkle in your eyes that tells him you had no plans to take it easy on him ever, but as if you know he won’t be abated by that alone, you lean in toward him, resting your chin in your palm while blinking up at him coquettishly.

“Well, you’re already on the right track, with this whole ‘saving yourself’ business. I appreciate that, off the bat,” you say, and Jake is kind of relieved, because while it wasn’t necessarily something he had to do, you weren’t an item and had turned him down four times so feelings or no, Jake wouldn’t have been in the wrong if he’d slipped up once or twice, but he’s glad that you acknowledge your approval, at least because now he knows now and feels a gust of pride inflate his chest.

“To be clear, though, I would make you work for it regardless of your past. I know what I’m worth, what I bring to a relationship, and what I want out of one, and I know those things too well just to forget them. Not for anyone.”

Jake nods vehemently, once again in complete agreement.

“Good. That’s real good, sweetheart. I don’t,” he tells you honestly, now feeling a sense of distinctly unearned pride that you were already so intune and aware of your value. He knows that for most people, including himself, that those things are only learned once they’re older. 

Your face flashes with surprise, startled by his admission of what was probably at least some basic emotional intelligence. “I’ve never wanted to know it, it wasn’t important before…” Jake trails off, and feels a sense of hesitation and regret start to poison his tongue. Was that too much? Too callous? You were aware of his colourful sexual past, but plenty of people had those. Jake had been calculated in his endeavours, and he’s suddenly ashamed, and not sure if he wants you to know that.

For a few beats you look at one another, Jake trying his best not to break eye contact, somehow hoping it will tell you all you need to know about his intentions, but after a moment, it’s you who looks away, shifting back into your position resting both arms atop the bar, where you begin fiddling with your drinks coaster.

“You know, you don’t have to be quite that honest, you can try to like, impress me still,” you say after a couple more seconds pass, and Jake lets out a shaky, anxious breath when a sideways, wry smile accompanies your words.

“Rather you be impressed by the truth than anything else,” he responds, mimicking your lean, your arms pressed against one another now, and Jake could be mistaken, but he’s almost certain that you lean some of your weight into him.

“‘M just sayin’ you don’t have to, like, abase yourself just for me to think you’re dealing fair. I already know you’re not exactly a two rodeo pony, but if you’re trying to be, that’s all I ask.” you look up at him and catch his gaze. Jake thinks over what you’ve said, not fully being able to believe it, but he wonders now if this will be just as much about proving his worthiness to himself, just as much as it was to you.

As if  he has little screens in his eyes that relay his every thought like a teleprompter, your expression softens once again, and this time Jake is sure that you’re leaning into his side, your weight falling solidly, but comfortably onto him.

“C’mon Hangman, you’re the best, aren’t you?” you tease, even nudging him playfully. “Who says you aren’t the best at this too?” you go on to ask, raising your eyebrows challengingly. Jake feels both a thrill at the slight taunt to your voice, as well as a deep affection and reverence that you know exactly how to play him already.

He picks up what you’re putting down, and lifts his chin to look down at you, one eyebrow of his own lifting in an almost condescending manner.

“Certainly not you, that's for damn sure, sweetheart.” Jake damn-near gloats, chest puffing out and pride swelling up again substantially at the way you seem to enjoy this display.

“Well then, I can’t wait to find out!” You say, knocking into his side once more with your elbow. Jake’s smile flickers more genuine, and after a moment of brief thought, he uncrosses his arms on the bar and slings his arm casually around your shoulder. You move into him almost like you’ve been waiting for him to do this, like for the past few weeks you’ve been thinking about it and what you might do if he did.

You grin up at him and Jake smiles back, lowering his face down to yours so that when he speaks again, you’re the only one in the room who can hear him

“Just promise me one thing,” Jake asks, serious as ever now. Your features crease a little, but you nod.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Never stop shooting me down. It’s kinda sexy.”

You let out a shocked, joyful laugh, even as your eyes gain a mean little sheen to them, the contrast between your sweet chortle, and the evil look on your face only making his own grin widen. Jake makes a note to bring this up in his wedding speech.

[hislittleraincloud]

Thinking like Enid is making my brain hurt.

I mean...I love her and all, but holy Hell, she is...that girl we all knew in high school who tried too hard. 🫠💀🔥✨

I was originally going to keep it to Enid and Yoko after Enid switched rooms, but Divina is in the scene now too. Mean Girls gotta be slightly mean. 🤷🏽‍♂️ Poor Enid 😅

ETA: I don't know why I was unaware that Murray had a name, but I wasn't (LOL). I'm a little slow. 😭😭😭😭💀 But I know for sure that Kent and Divina don't have a last name, but in this story they have a last name and a mother. Their father is dead.

[thgfanfictionlibrary]

M Rated Fics Masterlist (82)

Part 1 - Part 69 / Part 70 / Part 71 / Part 72 / Part 73 / Part 74 / Part 75 / Part 76 / Part 77 / Part 78 / Part 79 / Part 80 / Part 81 /

Created: August 21st, 2024

Last Checked:------

A Change of Color-peetasbunmyoven (ff.net) Summary: She hates Peeta Mellark. From the waves on his head down to his expensive designer shoes. But life and its circumstances keep bringing him back into her life. She hates Peeta Mellark until the day she realizes she doesn't. One evening, on one broken down boat in the middle of the lake the truth comes out.  Across the Room-peetasbunmyoven (ff.net) Summary: First love. First kisses. They all start with that first look. When it comes to Katniss Everdeen… Peeta Mellark can't look away. So what happens when she looks back? afterburn-brimay (ao3) Summary: Tears glisten in Peeta's eyes, perhaps because of the smoke, perhaps because of me. He shuffles to the largest window in the hall, finally close enough to give me a glimpse of what he’s carrying. A loaf of bread. Burnt bread. Without hesitation, he tosses it outside, giving it to the roaring rain as he once gave it to me. And I know. He still loves me. I wonder if it pains him. (or: a glimpse into Katniss and Peeta's relationship after the events of our little fires.) Begin Again-everlarkism (ao3) Summary: Katniss has been in and out mental hospitals. When discharged, she thought it would be best to try and turn her life around. She moves to an entirely new state, thinking the sudden change can help her. Eventually, she meets her complete opposite: Peeta Mellark - the outgoing, compassionate baker that everyone admires - and finds out maybe they're not so different after all. Bloodsport-everlarkism (ao3) Summary: the omen of death falls in love with the wild card OR iris barlowe went along with beetee's plan, without the intention of falling for the ruthless axe wielder - johanna mason. yet here she was, digging herself a deeper grave for the both of them and the others. johanna mason x female oc [ catching fire - Mockingjay ] Body talk-Hdishebrna (ao3) Summary: -Jake Daniels (the title’s the song) As a result of winning the 74th Annual Hunger Games as a pair of star crossed lovers, Katniss and Peeta are forced to attend many fancy Capitolite parties. This time however, Katniss is nervous. They’re now eighteen and the party they’re about to attend has a different… mood, one that makes it difficult for Peeta to keep his hands off her. Bring Me Back-peetasbunmyoven (ff.net) Summary: When she was sixteen years old Katniss Everdeen nearly drowned. It changed everything. It changed her. Determined to spend her days protecting others from a fate she nearly suffered she works hard. Peeta helps. Peeta Mellark her best friend's older brother who saved her life. Who she wants more than she wants this job. If only he wanted her back Burnout-lollercakes (ao3) Summary: Peeta Mellark, Canadian wildfire firefighter turned aerial firefighter specialist, finds himself on an exchange mission to the Great Down Under during one of the busiest wildfire seasons on record. He goes for the work but winds up finding much more than that after being paired up with less-than-impressed Katniss Everdeen, a volunteer firefighter who's just trying to do right by her community and keep her family's head above water. What could possibly go wrong? Or, maybe even right? do we want to put things back to the way they used to be?-xslytherclawx (ao3) Summary: Peeta's been in love with Katniss since he was five years old. She doesn't love him back. No matter what Johanna says. Goodbye to the Boy with the Bread-lollercakes (ao3) Summary: Part of a collection of oneshots. Prompt: Katniss/Peeta, It was quick and I hope that it was painless. I still remember the day I said goodbye to the boy with the bread.

[sugaredrhubarb]

Reading with Ru: Aug/Sept Fic Recs

I know I'm certainly in need of some positivity and escapism lately, so I'm gonna try to do semi-regular fic and book recs! Starting with a retroactive what I've been reading from the past couple of months with this account! (I might go back in time and make an all-time rec list later)

COD

starting with cod because i know most of you go here

Sergeant Squeaks by @charliemwrites - (series of one-shots ghost x reader and price x reader separately) both one of my favourite reader characters and my favourite canon setting depictions of Ghost and Price. their own weird brands of showing love are wonderful; the tension leading to getting together is fantastic, and the sex is super enjoyable.

Ghost Stories by @kneelingshadowsalome - (ghost x medic!reader) I'm repeating myself, but I love Salome's writing. This is where I was first introduced to it, and I think it's really special. Ghost POV as he struggles with developing and then accepting love. felt so real and grounded. angsty and then fluffy, and you can't help but adore the reader as well.

saltwater by @ceilidho - (ghost x reader) It's pretty unlikely any of you don't know Ceil, but on the off chance you haven't given this one a read yet, it really is a must. I lump praise on her pretty regularly, but I don't know anyone who is able to portray their character's emotions as intimately as Ceil. her ghost feels really grounded in all his complexity. there is a common theme in these recs of really enjoyable reader characters, and this is not an exception; the reader feels like a full but still ambiguous character who is vulnerable and strong and really great.

don't leave me locked in your heart by @ohbo-ohno - (ghoap x reader dark!) we all know bo, we all love bo. I always love the way she depicts ghost and soap's dynamic changing and evolving to include the reader. the descent into dark territory in this is really really fun. It's also just hot and well-written! if you haven't read it before, go read it, and then go read all of bo's drabbles and asks on here. genuinely one of my favourite dark but still fun writers. I think she balances it really well.

body electric by @yeyinde and Afterburn by @sprout-fics - (141 + Los Vaqueros x reader) a classic. I've returned to these so many times. sometimes you just want to read dirty, filthy, well done, smut and then warm cozy aftercare. not to wax poetic about pure sex (except that's exactly what one should do), but I think it can be really hard to write group sex like this and still have such insightful and individual glimpses into each character and dynamic, and Lev does it wonderfully. and then it's also hard to find good aftercare fic, and Sprout's feels like literal aftercare for both the reader character and the reader.

other fandoms

tried to curate to themes i think overlap in some of the cod works! and I think most of these can be read fandom blind.

i revisited @winterrose527's fic in August, and even though she already knows how much I love her work, I won't skip a chance to repeat it. Anna writes for asoiaf and is pretty much the queen of Robb Stark/Myrcella Baratheon, but I would say the modern AUs (my favs) can be read almost completely fandom blind. Any contemporary romance enjoyer would love her work. I'm really partial to her kid/single-parent fics. I think it's so hard to get right, and I always adore reading her kid characters and how she approaches love stories when kids are involved. anna's works are always brimming with love and incredible platonic, familiar, parent-child, and romantic relationships (if kid fic isn't your thing she also has a ton of other great fics). personal favs: We Could Be a Little Something, And There They Are, All the Same

Lawless by @goldcranes - (arthur morgan x ofc) age difference, cowboy love story, essentially a romance novel. if goldcranes has no fans, I'm dead. I encourage you to explore her work; very few people write as strongly across multiple fandoms as she does, and each of her works feels like a really strong love story with special characters.

The Odyssey by @sunlightmurdock - (bradley bradshaw x reader) 1980's roman literature prof x virgin student - no need to know top gun. katie's work is another entry in the 'feels like it stands really strongly separately from the source material' category. she has multiple ongoing AU's that I really love, but this one is a favourite. i think she does complex characters really well - their actions always feel intentional, and as flawed as they are, I always love them.

Wouldn't it be Nice by allyoops - (m/f captive A/B/O) if you aren't reading original works smut on ao3 you are missing out and allyoops is a great place to start for noncon, dubcon, age gap, taboo etc. enjoyers. they have a ton of works; usually one shots with lots of really delicious dynamics and different settings and tropes.

An Intoxicating Presence by FormerlyIR - (mob a/b/o haladriel) MOB. A/B/O. HALADRIEL. picks up with Halbrand in prison thanks to undercover FBI agent (and his mate!) Galadriel. does that sound crazy and awesome? well it is. mix it with Gal's internal struggle, the added complication of omegaverse, and overall great writing. really fun and really damn good.

civitas terrena by banalityofweevil - (darklina) angel Alina on an exploration of love in immortality with fallen angel Aleks. honestly, it's just a must-read for enjoyers of writing. incredibly creative with divine (literally and figuratively) imagery. i think one of my comments was on the precision of lulu's diction and I really stand by that.

tinsel into gold by ribbonedhare - (darklina) ddlg and cnc friends, this changed me. it is so warm and soft and my god, is it good. just scrumptious.

Be My Babydoll by KittyDruthers - (darklina) ddlg dollification need I say more

check the reading with ru tag for more!

[jeonggukwritingrecs]

Completed Tumblr Fic Recommendations Part Five

@hamsterclaw

Afterburner Benny Bike Cage Castaway Criminal Double Team Foundation Legand Lush Politico Poster Boy Spin Sketchy Soft Tag

@hannieehaee

Bad Habit BFF's Brother Need to Know

@hansolmates

A Hero's Journey Angel's Trumpets Black Magic Busted in Busan Day By Day Give Me Five More Minutes Here Comes the Bride (Not) Best Friends to Lovers Off-League Popular-ish Remote Learning Distance Learning ** Sequel to Remote Learning Royal Exchange Shiver The Proposal Tingle Twitch (Un)crushed 17 Going on 27

@here2bbtstrash

Compromise Cry Baby The Spins

@hisunshiine

Bangtan Scouts Cures for Idiosycrasies Fireworks and the ER How Many Rounds Laundry Love Seven Days Something in the Heir To All the Men I Fucked Before Visiting Daddy Workout For Me

@hobidreams

Curiosity

@hobiwonder

Gym Mission Impossible

@honeytae

The Right Choice

@hoseoksluna

Practice

@httpjungkookcom

Man Eater Hunting

@hueseok

A Lover's Kiss Chewie and Choco Boy Loveship

[atelierlili]

It's time take you back to the past

to play the shitty games that suck ass.

Some besties wanted a list of Everlark fics recs where Katniss and/or Peeta are blasted to the past/alternate universe to relive the events of the games to fix it, so here we are!

Time Is Never Found Again...Or Is It? (113,000 + words) by blahblahblah1703

Katniss, after talking to Snow in his rose garden, finds herself somehow back in her childhood home. She has seven months until she enters the arena for the 74th annual Hunger Games, along with the love of her life, who when she last saw him, was still struggling not to kill her, just perfect.

The pre-game everlark that happens here is 🤌. This is part one of a larger series. The sequel (which is wonderful as well) can be found here. This is the series that got me into this rabbit hole.

Afterburn ( 104,000+ words) by BlueMaple

Katniss Everdeen-Mellark goes to the woods surrounding New Appalachia, a.k.a the former District Twelve, on the morning of the fiftieth anniversary of the final Reaping of the Hunger Games. There, she is literally waylaid by her own past, and wakes in the past, six weeks before Primrose was first Reaped. Alone, grieving, terrified, and without a clue on how she got there (and then), she realizes that it will be impossible for her- on every level- to simply live through events as they transpired in her personal future. With no way to return her to that future, she is nevertheless determined to get back to her own party - hopefully with a lot less damage and fewer crucial casualties along the way.

This is apart of the All Sorrows Less series, which is still being updated. It's filled with wonderful side characters, mindblowing twists, a baby I will kill people for and GILF Katniss, what more can I say?

Second Burn ( 127,000+ words) by carnationhes

Katniss wonders if things could be different if she got a second chance. And then she gets one. This morning she wakes up back in District 12 after Peeta's warning of the bombing on Thirteen.

Have you read Second burn? Why haven't you read it yet? You should read it. It's amazing. Literally makes my brain chemistry tingle. I think this is most accurate depiction of a Katniss being blasted to the past with no meta explanation why. It's sooo soo soo good. I'm on my knees please read it and please read the sequel Ignite as well. This series is so underated please.

over and over (lost again) (13,000+ words) by TeaBrigadier

I died in the Hunger Games. It isn’t even the first time it’s happened. I’ve died in the Hunger Games five times now

This is a very self contained time loop where Katniss continuously relieves the first games until she gets it right. I know it doesn't really fit the theme, but this one makes my feel happy feelings and i wanted to recommend something that's isn't so long so I'm adding it anyway. Deathloops are fun!

Ongoing:

Catching sparks (19k words) (Last update 26 Feb 2024) by Silver_Cleo

The time when 23 year old Katniss and Peeta get transported from their home in what had once been Victor's Village of District 12, and into the bodies of their much younger selves, who have just woken up from exiting the arena of the 74th Hunger Games.

Here Katniss and Peeta get traveled to the past to the point where they just win their games. It's a great WIP. I love Everlark working together and being cute + humanizing the 74th tributes and their family <3

I'm probably missing a few, but these are my favourite ones so far. As much as I love the trope, I know it's a monster to take on from a writing standpoint so props to the writers!

I hope you enjoy them <3 There's nothing I love more than shining a light on amazing fics new and old. If you have recs of your own, please send them my way. I love this trope so much haha

@bbrooklynbabe @nightlocked-in @waywardangel-wilds