#Self-Aware Iceman

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Anime Convention (feat. someone real). Part I

Self-Aware! Flags x GN! Reader

Description: In small towns rumours spread like a wildlife. Especially in an age of Internet .

BSD Cast's presence in your life changed, how other people saw you. Not for the best.

Fears and anxiety eats you up. You are terrified of loosing your new friends, but also feel, that one day, you will be alone again.

After you loose your job, in combine attempt of cheering you up, learning more about real world and came in terms with having fans, Fitzgerald bought all of you a tickets to Anime Expo.

BSD Cast are existed and confused. They want to know, what are you afraid of.

You're nervous and excited. You afraid, that any moment you will make a fool of yourself and they will leave.

You simply hope, that everything will be fine.

Part I Description:

You are trying to get through work day, ignoring rude comments, coming from your co-workers.

Flags don't understand, what is happening to you, and why you allow others to harass you. Either way, they won't allow anyone to upset you.

Warnings: OOC. English is my second language. Forced loneliness in a crowd. (Reader want to have friends, but have troubles with making them). Insecurities (Reader are afraid of being laughed at). Low self-esteem (Reader are sure, that people will think, that they are boring and stupid).

Warnings for Part I: Harassment on a workplace. Fights. Being fired from job. Everyone think, that Reader pay BSD Cast for their help with their body.

| Interlude I| >

___________

Albatross's motorcycle dissapeared around the corner when you opened a café's door.

A familiar jingle of the bells greeted you, when you opened the Sunset Café's door.

Time for work.

You greeted your co-workers. As usual, they have ignored you. And send nasty and disgusted glares towards you, when you passed them.

You went straight to "Employee Only" room. As usual, you had to threw away nasty notes your co-workers put in your locker.

You, now in your uniform, stand behind the counter. As usual, you ignored the whispering, that was coming from your co-workers.

Job sweet job...

_______

You knew, that your new roommates would turn, how people saw you.

You always were a quiet student and co-worker.

Like many other students, you were renting a small apartment, were going to the university and had a part-time job. As many other students, you were quiet one. You study and do your job, and spent your free time in your apartment, enjoying your hobbies.

Your parents always told you, how fun university life was for them. About parties, bar hopping and many other social gatherings.

You tried to attend few parties. You did not like them. They were loud, and, after few drinks, people became too against personal space. You did not have any fun. So, not to torture yourself and not to sour the mood, you stopped attending parties.

You still wanted to make friends. You are not social butterfly, but you are not are dead set on being a loner.

You tried to make friends with other students. At first, it worked. You discussed latest news and everyday problems. You dive in your friends’ hobbies, so you can discuss them. However, with time, you have noticed, that they did not try to know you a little more. Each time you wanted to say even a word about last movie you watched or a book your read, you were being shut down, and “friends” already started a new discussion. And, when you tried to say your opinion on something they were discussing, they ignored you.

They did not noticed, that you stopped hanging out with them.

You tried again.

They were better. They didn't ignore you. They let you talk about your hobbies and listen to your opinion.

And then you learned, that they were laughing at you behind your back.

You stopped trying. You didn't want to be ignored again. You didn't want to be laughed at.

Still, you didn't want to be alone...

But, what next group will laugh at you again?

You choose to listen to your anxiety.

And, once again, as back at school, you became

IGNORED

“Quiet-Nerd-What–was-their-name?”

No one expected you to do anything drastic.

Until, one day, BSD Cast appeared in your living room.

And people remembered, that you existed.

-------------------------

It first, it wasn't too bad.

After Albatross got all documents he needs and finally bought a new motorcycle, he volunteered to constantly give you a ride to the university. It takes you time, before you agreed to his proposal. You were fine going by feet, or taking a bus. But, the new house was further from the university, than your previous apartment, so, to safe time, you agreed to Albatross's proposal.

Now you have more time to sleep and still can get to the university earlier, to prepare for lectures.

You weren't worried about questions, that fellow students would ask. For them, you were practically invisible. They won't pay attention to you, right?

Perhaps, it would be the case. But, you failed to get one thing in consideration.

Sunset Café

Relatively popular place among students. Not only because of delicious pastries, hot beverages and low prices. Mostly, because of owners' willingness to employ students and giving them a normal paycheck. Not enough to buy everything you need, but enough to pay rent and buy a present for yourself twice a year. Besides, employees were allowed to drink beverages and take few pastries. So, free dinner/lunch. Saved money!

So, of course, you were one of the many employees in Sunset Café. And, sometimes, you shared shift with your "classmates". If you were lucky, you could even say a few words to them, and they would react to them.

You didn't quit your job after BSD Cast appeared in your life. Mori, Fitzgerald, Poe and even Mitchell with Steinbeck tried to convince you to quit it. They assured you, that you don't need this job anymore. They have more than enough money to pay for everything you need or want. Everyone told you, that they won't hold it against you, if you quit your job and focus on your studies.

Your decision didn't change. You will work. Not only because you will feel bad for not contributing.

Because you need money for that... And you will feel terrible, taking money from BSD Cast to do it...

BSD Cast accepted it. They only asked you to tell them when your shifts are and text, when you will go home.

You were fine with sharing this with them.

A week passed. Albatross gave you a ride to university. Then, after lessons were over, you will go by foot to Sunset Café and after work take a bus to get home. Everything was fine. Even if other students noticed your "driver", they didn't ask questions. They get used to ignoring you.

And then, one day, after university, you saw Albatross on the parking lot.

_____

"Hey, [Y/N]! How university was, Racing Star?" Albatross waved his hand, smiling brightly. You tilted your head and quickly approach him.

you felt other students gazes on you... since when someone, except professors, knew your name? and since when, you have a person, who will have a nickname for you?

You lean towards him, whispering.

"Albatross? What are you doing here?" You quickly released, that you were rude. "I mean, hello. University was good."

stupid stupid he will think that you are a rude idiot

Albatross smiles at you warmly and took (yours) helmet from his motorcycle.

"Great! I am here to pick you up. Since today, I will also give you a ride to your workplace! And from workplace to home!" He held the helmet towards you.

You took it and put it on.

Albatross mirrored your actions and get on motorcycle.

"Hop on, Raising Star!"

You sat behind him, on your own proper seat, with your feet on your own foot pegs.

You put your arms around Albatross torso.

The motorcycle moved.

many people looked after you two. in a few hours all your co-workers knew about Albatross and you

_______

Questions came.

"Who is this handsome man?"

"Is he single?"

"You get a boyfriend?! You?!"

"Why he is giving you a ride?!"

You shrugged their questions of.

"Just a new roommate. We met online, talked about some anime and manga for a bit (rolled eyes and whispers of 'useless nerd'). And about few other things. He wanted to move over from his city to this town and wanted us to be roommates. He volunteered to gave me rides."

(whispers of 'And how you are paying for the rides?' you ignored them)

------

A shove in the side interrupted your thought chain.

"Wake up, cheap strumpet! Or are you thinking about all this 'rides' the blonde one gave you? The one in sunglasses." John's gaze was full of disgust. It was clearly visible, that your co-worker, and student from your class, want to spit in your face really badly. Thankfully, he decided against it.

"We will have clients soon. Reminder, not clients, that you are used to. So get back to normal, respected work."

He growled and left to the kitchen.

You wanted to protest, that it was summer. University was over. Most students left, and the Café wasn't that popular among other town's residents.

no clients means more trouble for you

But you stay silent.

You didn't want to lose your job. You need it.

🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️

Albatross parked his motorcycle not far from Sunset Café. He returned to the Café on his own foot. There was a restaurant on the opposite side of the street. And, because they didn't serve any deserts and only could offer Earl Grey and espresso, it wasn't a competitor with Sunset Café.

From said restaurant you can clearly view Sunset Café, and see, what was happened inside.

Albatross choose the closest table to the window. He sat down, ordered a sandwich and start observing. His friends will join him soon. For now, he must look after you.

He clenched his teeth, when he saw, how that man shoved you. Albatross gad no idea, what he was telling you, but you looked uncomfortable. And silent. You didn't try to protect yourself.

Albatross doesn't understand. Why you were so silent and don't protect yourself? Why you don't ask them for help?

Albatross doesn't have answers yet. But, he promised, that today he will protect you.

And other Flags will help him.

🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️🏍️

The interest in you and Albatross quickly died. Well, in you the interest died. Albatross still was discussed. Handsome man, dressed in leather jacket and rugged pants, who can ride a motorcycle, tend to get people's attention.

Life became normal again, aside from people, who would beg you to give them Albatross's number.

But then, another "new" appeared in your life.

Homemade meals.

"I knew, that you can have cake with coffee, but it is not a meal, [Y/N]. It is a snack or a treat. So, hush, and take your bento." Yosano wasn't listening to your protest, putting a lunch container into your bag.

Lunches became a norm for you.

If people saw you eating your own food, they didn't question it. Perhaps, they assumed, that after getting a roommate, you start having more money, enough for not to worry about constant saving and searching for low prices. Or, maybe, some people thought, that Albatross was also cooking for you.

But one day, you forgot your lunch at home.

___________

You were working on filling coffee machine, when John called for you.

"Um... Person, who are filling coffee machine... [Y/N], right?"

You nodded.

you were used for people forgetting your name

"[Y/N]... there is some kind of freak with IV looking for you!" John sounded confused.

IV? Doc?

You walked past confused John. He still looked confused. You could bet, that it was equally, because of Doc's appearance and, because there was another non-professor, who knew your name.

he and other of your co-workers were listening on yours and Doc's meeting

Doc does look interesting. Mostly because of IV and jagged teeth. But, you can quickly get used to said looks.

Doc flashed a toothy grin at you.

it made your co-workers took a step back

Doc raised a hand, and you saw, that he was holding a wrapped up bento.

Your lunch, that you forgot.

"[Y/N], silly little Kindly Care, you forgot your lunch."

You nodded, taking it from him.

"Hello, Doc. Thank you..."

idiot. your stupidity made him walk all the way here to give you food. apologize. Maybe, he won't hate you and would simply despise

"I am so sorry for all troubles I..." You didn't get to finish. Doc chuckled and pet your shoulder. His gaze was warm. He didn't look angry. Only happy.

"Don't worry this pretty little head of yours. It wasn't trouble at all. Hey, how soon your shift will end? Maybe, I can wait for you, and then Albatross, you and I can hang out?"

you can felt burning gazes of your co-workers on your back

You wanted to say 'yes, let's hang out'. But, your shift was far from over. He could probably go home. He will go home.

you aren't worse waiting for...

"I will be free in three hours, Doc... Maybe, you should..." Doc's grin became even bigger.

"Neat. I will wait for you."

Doc sat on the table in far away corner.

And you go back to your co-workers.

_________

They literally pressed you against the wall, trying to get answers.

"Who is this creep?"

"You have another friend?"

"Another roommate?"

"How big the flat is?"

"Is he the one, who is cooking you food?"

"Are you three dating?"

It was difficult, but you escaped from the encirclement. You ignored half of the questions.

"Yes, another roommate. No, we aren't dating. I won't answer any more questions. My personal life is none of your concern."

maybe, if you say something else... this situation would be solved...

(Kasey, another co-worker, whispered 'what they saw in you? What you give them in return for their help?' you ignored her)

Albatross, Doc and you got ice cream after your shift was done.

_____

You were re-filling coffee machine, when you heard steps coming from behind.

Only your reflexes saved you from having coffee spilled all over you. Kasey's voice was dripping with venom.

"What the matter? Aren't you already dirty?"

She left, stepping on your foot in a process.

You bit your tongue.

Just keep it cool. You need this job.

You need your own money.

🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️

Doc, this time, without his IV, stepped into the restaurant. Albatross waved his hand, without looking away from the Café. Doc sat near his friend.

"Did something bad happened?" asked Doc. Albatross huffed.

"Some guy... John, I think, shoved them. And, yell at them, I guess. [Y/N] looked scared and nervous."

Doc rubbed his temples. He hated all this people, who hurt you.

He saw it. Bruises on your arms.

You assured him, that you were clumsy.

But, doctor and mafioso (especially doctor-mafioso) can see, what bruises came from being clumsy and what was left from being hit.

He didn't blame you for being quiet. In no way it is your fault. But, it was his and others responsibility to protect you.

Because, you are their dear friend.

But, for an hour or two, he still had to wait. He and Albatross need more people to help them.

🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️🧑‍⚕️

People started whispering.

About you, Albatross and Doc.

Some rumors were tossed around.

Still, it wasn't too bad. Albatross, Doc and almost everyone from BSD Cast wasn't too sociable, for now. So, your co-workers and other students can't get more information from them, and you simply refused to talk.

you are too grumpy... you will never have friends... you will always be alone...

But, loneliness can't last forever.

if you are not talking about yourself, of course

BSD Cast wanted to have jobs.

Lippmann was one of the first, who got it.

New actor in a local theater. A new start. New celebrity. Videos with him became viral.

And said start preferred to spend time with a shy, timid student, worker of Sunset Café.

________

Kasey squeaked, when Lippmann, a new celebrity, walked into the Café.

"Y-you..." she looked at him in adoration. Lippmann sent a smile in her direction.

Simple, polite smile.

He read her badge.

"Yes, me. Miss Kasey, can you, please, tell me, where... [Y/N]!" He noticed you, walking with a tray, full of dirty dishes.

Lippmann smiles at you.

Genuine, warm smile. Smile, that was reserved strictly for you.

You tried your best to stay polite and not to lose balance.

"Hello, Lippmann. Good to see you..."

Lippmann immediately was near you, taking away the tray. You didn't even make a sound, when he brought the tray to the kitchen. He returned to you, smiling.

"Well, Star Performer, ready to have lunch together?"

You mentally scolded yourself. Today you had a short day, and would leave the job earlier, than usual. This morning, Lippmann suggested eating lunch together. You were sure, that he was playing a prank on you. But it would be rude to say no. You agreed.

you hopped, that he will show up

you don't deserve them. someone as bad as you should stay from normal people

You nodded. Lippmann grinned.

"Good. I will wait for you to get ready."

"Thanks. I will be ready in a minute." you went to "Employee Only" room to get your bag and change.

_______

Co-workers gathered their courage to talk to Lippmann.

"Do you know them?"

"Do you know two others, that hang out with them?"

"What are they to you?"

Lippmann's answers were empty.

"[Y/N], few other people and I are roommates. I also see [Y/N] as someone close. Please, stop bothering me. I want to pick up my friend and spend the rest of the day with them."

When you returned, Lippmann took your hand and lead you towards the exit, ignoring your co-workers.

They glared at door, that closed behind you two.

If people could do physical damage with their gazes, you would be stabbed multiple times by their gazes.

(Today, all of them took a dive on social media. Trying to find more people, who knew you. They started with Lippmann socials.)

It was the point of no return

__________

You only wanted to have lunch.

You choose an empty table and was ready to dig in into red bean chazuke (thank you, Mori), when someone slammed a hand on the table before you.

Max, baker, were glaring at you. They were older than you, and not a student anymore. But, they were a star student, back there, and still honored the university traditions.

And they were furious at you.

Because of what people thought you were doing.

"You have no idea, how you disgust me. You are a disgrace to the university." they spit. They grabbed your lunch box and threw it down. Food spilled on the ground. You cowered in fear.

Max spit on the floor.

"Clean it up. Or eat it right from the floor. Livestock aren't allowed to eat as normal humans."

You blinked away your tears.

Hold on...

Just hold on...

You need money...

To pay rent...

🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Doc and Albatross had to hold down Lippmann (and themselves) from marching down to the Café and do something really nasty to the bastard.

Lippmann breathed in and out.

"Why... Why they are hurting [Y/N]? For what sick entertainment?" mumbles Lippmann, tapping fingers against the table. Albatross and Doc didn't answer. They don't need to.

Lippmann closed his eyes. He hated not doing anything.

But, he needs to wait for a bit more. To get more evidence.

He remembered about some of the messages he received on his socials.

About how good you are in... "under the table" job. How much will it cost. If he is disgusted by you.

He simply thought, that it was trolls or haters, who just saw your photos on his page.

But, what if this people knew you and him in real life?

Lippmann breathed in again.

You were the only good part of the Real World. Other real people were huge bastards. He must protect you.

His precious Star Performer.

🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

They found photos.

Photos with you and BSD Cast.

With all of them calling you a great friend and roommate.

There were some videos.

About you being happy to get a gift or hanging out with them.

Fellow students and co-workers don't understand.

How a quiet, timid, shy nerd could get so much attention? Especially from new big businessmen and businesswoman?

They drew the only "logical" conclusion.

You were selling your body.

Now you weren't nameless anymore.

No, now you have many names.

Cheap, livestock, thing, toy... To call the least explicit.

And harassment came.

They didn't harass you on The Internet or tried to cross the line.

Thay said, that dirt wasn't worth to get in jail or any legal troubles. But they left notes, were rude, yelled at you, shoved you. Some people send complaints to the university.

They didn't want to be near you.

Professors didn't do anything. You were grown-ups, can deal with your own problems. But they asked all of you to be quiet. So you won't ruin the university's image of a prestigious, place with good students.

you were ruining not only BSD's Cast reputation. you are ruining university's reputation

Café's manager didn't do anything. Deal with it on your own. But he demand, that you deal with it not in front of the clients. And promised to fire you, if you start a scandal.

You tried to fight. You tried to explain. Show some of your messages with Oda, Mori, Nikolai, Fukuzawa and Fitzgerald.

But there was no way for you to prove, that you and BSD Cast were just friends.

"You have a second phone, where the evidence are!"

"I don't know, what is more disgusting. The number of your 'roommares'.or their ages."

"Don't come near. You are a freak without any morals."

was it your fault?did you deserve it? if you had friends in university, maybe you would...

there was no use in crying over spilled milk

you simply must move on

summer is soon

after holidays, they will forget about you

_______

You and Piano Man were feeding ducks in local park. Both of you were silent.

Silence was comfortable.

And then Piano Man spoke.

"[Y/N]... Rare Coin, can I ask you something?" his tone was gentle. You threw more seeds into the lake, before answering.

"Ask away." You smiled shyly. It's been three months since BSD Cast appeared in this world, in your life.

It felt good to have friendly conversations.

it was nice to have friends

Piano Man licked his lips, before speaking.

"[Y/N], are you alright? You looked... sad for the last few days. Did something happen? Can we help you?"

You froze.

they will hate you. you are ruining their reputation. LIE

"Everything is fine! I just worried about my finals!" a fake smile appeared on your face. Piano Man crooked an eyebrow.

"Kunikida said, that you are doing great. Or are you afraid of getting Not "100 points" but "99.99 points"?"

You nervously nodded.

"I always worried about my finals..."

Piano Man still didn't look convinced.

"And how your relationship with other students and co-workers?"

You swallow. You felt, iike a rock fall down your stomach.

"It's fine. They not really interested in me. I am just another student."

Piano Man looked at you for few moments. He clearly wanted to ask more questions, but decided to drop the subject.

"Fine. I will believe you. But, please, if you have troubles, talk to us. We care about you. We will help you."

You mumble something under your breath.

they will hate you for lying. idiot. go back to your books

Piano Man threw remaining seeds to the ducks. He held his hand towards you.

"Let's go and buy some groceries. Goncharov promised to cook stew for dinner."

_________

You had a headache. You just wanted this day to be over. You wanted to go home. To stay far away from the Café and University. From students.

They were glaring at you. They hated you.

Duncan, your manager, was towering over you. He bared his teeth and hissed.

"I promise you, you won't stay here for tool long. I will make sure, that you will be fired. Who knew, what diseases you are carrying around. I don't want to have my life ruined because of your debauchery."

You close your eyes. You are hated, because of stupid rumors.

And you can't ask anyone for help.

you aren't important enough to be a burden

to ask for help

you want to cry

you fight the urge

don't show weakness

you need this job

to pay rent

to keep your old apartment

The Café door was opened.

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

Piano Man didn't walk into the restaurant. He simply stopped before restaurant window and waved his hand, showing Albatross, Doc and Lippmann, that it was time.

Piano Man kept looking at the Café. At place, where you were working. At place, where you were harassed.

He clenched his fists.

He remembered, how you were acting during last finals. They still were in their world, but they could tell, that you weren't panicking or having a meltdown...

And about students.

There was one thing, that concern not only Piano Man, but all members of BSD Cast.

How empty your list of messages were.

Chat with parents. Chat for your group of students. Chat for all university students (only reading, where students can't post). Chat for Sunset Café workers.

And you hardly interacted with any if the chats.

It would be a good thing, if your parents write even one in a month.

Students in a chat ignored you, if you try to ask something, making you send the message multiple times.

Workers in a café left you on read for a good chunk of time, answering the last moment.

And even after they appeared in this world, they didn't see you hanging with someone else, exept them.

Were you bullied? No, not a correct term.

Piano Man remembered bruises. Bruises, that, according to you, came from falling down.

You were harrassed.

How dare they hurt you?

"[Y/N], don't worry, dear, we will protect you."

You were shy, kind, clever and adorable. Yet, some bastards thought, that they can hurt you. They were wrong.

And Flags will show them, how wrong they were.

"Ready?" asked his friends.

Three "Ready" were his answers.

Ice Man just walked into the café. Piano Man moved forward. Doc, Albatross and Lippmann followed after him.

🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹🎹

Duncan was too absorbed in scoffing at you. He didn't notice, how Iceman walked into a café.

Your other co-workers, however, saw his. And tried to stay as far away as they can.

Iceman was a good man. Soft-spoken and kind. He often invites you to drink coffee together, while listening to some of his records.

But he does have an overwhelming presence. With a scar running down his right eye and emotionless face, tall /hit/ man didn't look like an embodiment of friendship.

Duncan continues to spit insults at you.

"You are everything, that is wrong with your generation. You have no honor or any idea, how normal human beings should behave in society!"

You turned away and tried not to pay attention. You failed. Duncan's yells were loud.

Shouts of approval were heard from different parts of the café. Iceman may have looked scary, but people can't pass up the chance to rub your face in your 'inappropriate' behavior.

With a corner of your eye you saw, how Iceman picked up one of the vases, that was standing on each table and had flowers put in it. With vase in hand, Iceman continue walking to Duncan and you.

You shake your head, trying to stop Iceman from doing what he wanted to do.

you don't need troubles at work!

Door opened again.

The Rest of the Flags walked inside. You have a bad feeling about this.

Duncan's loud howls were interrupted by a soft ringing sound. The fiery speaker fell and hit his face against the floor.

Behind him was Iceman with the most repentant expression on his face. But a sly smile was ruining the image.

"I'm so clumsy!" Iceman “apologized,” pointing with his hand at the glass shards of the vase and the scattered flowers, that were lying on the floor.

“But, honestly, he is such a disgusting guy. It was time for him to shut up.”

Your co-workers realized, what happened just at the end of the speech, and the last words Iceman spoke crouching. A tray of dirty dishes, which Max threw from the kitchen door, passed over his head. The tray flew further and landed on John's head, who tried to escape at the wrong time.

The dishes' life came to an end.

The joyful cry “Get them!” that came from Albatross, announced that the calm day was ruined completely, irrevocably and for everyone at once.

Iceman, with a confident, clearly practiced movement, grabbed surprised you, and threw you behind the counter.

In the café, meanwhile, Piano Man was steadily dipping Max into a bucket of dirty water, Doc was methodically beating John with a rolling pin. Iceman jumped over the tables, running from Steve, the only guard who was already out of breath. Lippmann, who had stolen a frying pan from the kitchen in the midst of a fight, was reprimanding something to the conscious Duncan, reinforcing his words with blows from the frying pan. Albatross throw Kasey onto the counter, and, grabbing her by the collar, began dragging her back and forth.

You didn't know what to do. You were never in a fight before, and, if you stand up, you could become an easy target, putting Flags in disadvantage.

Albatross dragged Kasey away from the counter, so he can deal with another waiter at the same time, and you take a better look at what was going on.

Right that moment, Iceman and Steve ran past the counter, and Steve was close to catching Iceman.

You can't let him hurt your friend!

You grabbed a bottle of vanilla syrup and hit Steve with it.

The guard was now cowered in sticky substance.

And owner finally decided to check on what was going on.

_________

You were standing outside Sunset Café, holding your bag.

Flags brought enough money to pay for all the damage they caused. Owner agreed not to press charges.

But you were fired. You were the reason for a fight. Flags didn't hide, that they saw you being harassed by your former co-workers, and they simply can't let them continue that.

Flags said, that they have proofs. And thanks for that, Max, Duncan, Kasey, John, Steve and others won't press charges.

it is your fault your fault you almost get Flags in trouble

You didn't know what to feel.

You won't be harassed anymore.

But you lose a job. And other places in this town aren't interested in hiring students.

And you need the job

You need money

To keep your old apartment

So you will have...

"[Y/N]? Are you okay? " Iceman's soft voice sounded right above your ear. You looked up at him at the rest of the Flags, who were standing behind him. All of them looked guilty. Iceman spoke again.

"[Y/N], we are sorry, that you have lost your job. But, please, understand, that we couldn't just let some idiots harassed you. We wanted to protect you."

Flags nodded in agreement.

You open your mouth and said the truth.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it. And don't worry about my job. I will find another one"

you wanted this. friends, that will protect you. someone, you can protect

Albatross jumped closer to you and put his arm around your shoulders.

"That's the spirit! So, want to grab a bite, before going home?"

Without waiting for your answer, he led you away from Sunset Café. Flags followed after you two.

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

Iceman walked behind you. And he was observing. He was glad, that you were safe now. But your attitude... What was going on? Why you let others walked over you?

Right now, you looked happy. But, what if one day... Because of other students...

Iceman whispered.

"We need to discuss it with others. Something is still wrong with Snowflake."

Piano Man, the only one, who heard him, nodded in agreement.

Iceman continue observing you. Albatross was recalling the best moments of the fight, and how cool you were, hitting the guard with a bottle.

You looked embarrassed, but you also participate in conversation.

For now, everything was good.

🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊🧊

You were half-way to the diner, Flags have chosen to grab a bite.

Your last paycheck felt heavy in your pocket.

Last money you earned.

You will spend them on a rent.

On your old apartment, that BSD Cast thought you left permanently.

Because you need this apartment.

Because, after BSD Cast will see, how boring and stupid you are, they will leave. And you will need a place to return to.

But for now, you will simply enjoy your lunch with Flags.

[vannral]

ice & mav

(anne sexton, a self-portrait in letters // alice oseman, radio silence)

[took-my-breath-away]

Hello! I just wanted to check in!! How are you and if you're up for it, how do you think ice copes with his ptsd? (I see the fandom talking about Maverick a lot but gooses death was technically Icemans fault)

Write an essay if you'd like!! We'd love to read it!!

🦆

hello!! i've been a busy bee, currently working on some 3d stuff while i let my drawing muse recover lmao. went at it a bit hard lately... now, regarding ice and how he coped after goose's death... honestly, i'm not convinced he actually had ptsd. the films never really suggest that he struggled with trauma on that level. it always seemed like ice's way of handling things was to push forward, to stay focused and in control. that said, i do think guilt played a huge part in his journey.

he never showed overt signs of remorse apart from the brief apology to mav in the locker room, and even then, it felt more like a polite acknowledgment—"sorry for your loss"—than a deep, sincere apology for his own role in the events. i think his pride prevented him from fully taking responsibility at the time, and he might have rationalized it as part of the job. assuming he grew more self-aware later, that lingering guilt would have weighed on him, perhaps more than he ever let on.

ice and mav's transition from rivals to trusted friends—by the time of tgm—had to come from a place of reconciliation. their earlier personas were marked by pride and impulsiveness, traits that mellowed over time. i imagine it would have taken years of subtle conversations, moments of vulnerability, and the slow settling of scores for ice to truly make peace with what happened. it's hard to admit guilt, especially when you're someone like ice, who built a career on confidence and authority. but i think that, for them to reach the camaraderie they show in tgm, ice must have worked through those feelings—maybe not with dramatic confessions, but with small, meaningful actions that eventually bridged the gap between him and mav.

I wrote more on blame between ice and mav but might save that for another time haha

hope that answers your thoughts ducky anon!

[misanderousmisfit]

Imagine Iceman confessing that next to Maverick, Chipper is probably the cutest of their Top Gun class, Then Maverick disagrees and says that next to Ice, Wolfman is the hottest.

Goose just sits there and wonders if they are self aware enough to notice they both have A TYPE.

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

listen don't look at my bucket list of things to write that's only growing but i'm thinkingggg

girl!luca and the vr46 academy. she's one of the boys she's too pretty and too girly (have you seen luca marini???) to be one of the boys she has way too many people trying to control her career (sickeningly aware that girls who aren't valentino rossi's little sister aren't going very far. selfishly grateful and going for that chance like someone has a knife to her throat)

analytical self-assured kinda lowkey girl!luca. hard-eyed at ice princess but laughs along at iceman. only cries once that she receives more modeling proposals than contracts then vows to know bikes better than any of them

and the vr46 ritual of getting a horrible, horrible crush on her that they vow to hide from her because she already deals with way too much bullshit from all other riders

(everyone gets over it unless you're pecco bagnaia who's made to suffer)

like. franky had a normal ass crush on girl!luca that lasted like. two months. he's a go with the flow, very mercurial kind of person. celin's was horrible and humiliating and awkward as fuck and everyone was on his ass about it but he was never quite sure if he just thought girl!luca was really cool or having an actual crush. bez is half in love with all his friends. pecco is. going through the Horrors about it

[h-c-u]

Eye of the storm pt 1

Summary: You can't cope with your grief and Beau is there for you.

Pairing: Beau "Cyclone" Simpson x fem!reader (Iceman's daughter)

W/C: 8k

Rating: PG, age gap, canon character's death (Tom Kazansky)

TWs: Grief, unnamed ED, Panic attacks.

A/N: It's going to be long and slow. And there is a lot of feelings. Is it healthy...? Wellll.... What in life truly is healthy...? Also - the next chapter is almost ready, and will be most likely posted on Sunday.

Part 2 | Part 3 Masterlist | List of tags | Eye of the storm playlist

Personal note: I am aware that grief is a very heavy topic for some people, and if you're not in the right mindset, please skip this story. A lot of what I described here is based on my personal experiences, so if you could, please don't comment on the amount of sleeping, crying and panic attacks. From the outside perspective, I know that there are a lot of them, and that it might even sound unrealistic for someone who was able to deal with loss in a more healthy way than I did. Everyone deals with it differently and I wish none of you, my dear readers, will experience what I did. Love,  G.

The last few weeks were rough for you... Mostly because you just couldn't process your dad's death properly, and you were having terrible nightmares every night and panic attacks when you were awake. And yet, you were afraid to go back to therapy; you just... weren't ready yet, because actually going there and talking about it somehow made it more... true. And because acknowledging that would break you even more. 

You couldn't spend more than a few minutes at home, because everywhere you looked you were expecting to see him, to hear him... Every time you looked at your phone you were expecting to see a text from him... Every time you looked at your driveway you expected to see him getting out of the car... But none of those things happened, and every time you realized that the won't happen ever again, it was crushing you over and over. 

You cling to his clothes, desperately seeking the remains of his scent... You re-read his journals every day, hoping that somehow the last unfinished sentence magically fills in with his neat handwriting the next time you get to that page... You were obsessively listening to the recording of My Funny Valentine he made for your mother a few years ago when he still had his voice... 

You knew that none of those things was healthy. And yet, you just couldn't let them go, making yourself re-live the pain of realizing that he's truly gone multiple times every day... 

To say that you were close with your dad would be a severe understatement. You told him everything, and he told you even more than he was sharing with your mother. You were almost inseparable, especially during the last couple of years. You learned sign language with him and you were with him in every unofficial meeting, translating, because it was much faster than writing on a computer. You were with him at every doctor’s appointment and every round of chemo, talked him through every panic attack and moment of self-doubt, when your mother just couldn't handle it anymore. 

And you missed him with every breath you took and with every heartbeat...

But ever since the funeral... you just couldn't handle it. And you had no one to help you, so you hid in the place where you could weirdly still feel his presence... 

You never got into military; you knew you weren't built for that life. You craved personal freedom too much and the strict routine would kill you. And yet you found yourself seeking the comfort of that, even if only by existing in the same space as it was happening. 

To be honest, you assumed that getting on base would be much harder, considering that you weren't even in the academy, but almost everyone you came in contact with got sudden amnesia and selective blindness when they saw you entering the base or walking the corridors... You usually just sat on the floor somewhere, tucked in the corner of the hangar, or in the furthest part of a cafeteria, being completely quiet and re-reading one of your dad's journals. It was the only place where you didn't feel like dying...

You were extremely careful not to accidentally stumble upon something you weren't supposed to see or hear, that's why it took you so long to get into your fathers office; because you assumed it was reassigned and you didn't want to be confronted by the new occupant... 

But you finally gathered the courage to open the familiar door and enter even more familiar room. You've spent a lot of hours here... Sure, all the personal belongings were packed and sent to your mother's house, but you could still see the marks he made there... 

The worn place on the edge of his desk, where he rubbed his thumb over and over, when someone was saying something extremely stupid during meetings. Blinds were still in the 2/3s of the window, just as he liked. The place in the carpet where he liked to keep his right foot perpendicularly to the floor, resting it on his toe was still visible. And many, many little things that gave unimaginable comfort when you saw them again. He was still here... Maybe not alive, but he was still here, and that took that heavy weight from your chest and shoulders, even if just for a moment. 

You couldn't force yourself to sit in his chair, it felt almost sacrilegious... Instead, you opted on curling up on the couch you helped choose, just for few minutes... To catch a breath from the constant grieving, even if for a moment... You didn't even notice when you fell asleep, and for the first time in weeks, there were no nightmares haunting your dreams... 

- Cyclone...? - he heard a familiar voice, and he instantly turned around. - Are you ok, buddy? - Warlock looked a little bit concerned but got curious when his friend put his finger on his lips, shushing him, and closing the door to his office a bit more. 

- I'm fine... - he lied smoothly, trying to position himself in front of his door in such a way, that his friend wouldn't see inside, but he failed. 

- What the...!? - to say that Solomon was surprised and confused would be an understatement, when he caught sight of the young women sleeping on the couch in his friend's office. 

- Shush. - Cyclone pulled his friend by the elbow further into the corridor, so their conversation wouldn't be so loud. 

- Why the hell she's in your office, and more importantly, why the hell were you watching her sleep? - Warlock crossed his arms on his chest evidently judging, and Beau's shoulders slumped as he looked at the floor. 

- Because she thinks this office is still unoccupied... And it's the only place where she doesn't have nightmares when she sleeps... - he bluntly avoided answering the second question, because if he did, he would actually have to admit few things out loud, and he definitely didn't want to do that in front of his friend. 

- And you know that because...? - Solomon dug deeper and Cyclone sighed heavily. 

- Because I overheard her conversation with her mother after I caught her for the first time...

- Jesus Christ, Beau...

- I know, believe me. - he was evidentially ashamed of what he did, and Sol didn't even know the half of it. 

- How often is she here? - Warlock sighed again and let his arms fall to his sides. 

- Every day... - even though Beau was much higher than his friend, right now he felt much, much shorter. 

- Every...!? Cyclone, what the actual fuck!? - vice-admiral wanted nothing more than for the ground beneath him to open and swallow him whole. - Wait... If she's in your office every day... Where have you been working from? - the judgement disappeared for a moment, replaced by curiosity. 

- From a conference room on the 3rd floor... - compared to the previous things, this one was easy to admit, and now Solomon just laughed quietly... 

- Shit, you're in deep, aren't you... Working from that shoebox just so she can catch some sleep... For how long exactly? - usually very sure in himself and confident Beau Simpson was currently folding onto himself in front of his best friend. 

- Almost two months... - he mumbled under his breath, readying for the next wave of laughter. 

- Have you even talked to her? - Cyclone didn't have to reply for Solomon to know the answer. - Why? 

- She's very obviously grieving. And she's Iceman's very young daughter and he would... - he couldn't even finish that sentence. 

- He would what... kill you? A bit late for that, isn't it...? - if looks could kill, Solomon would be dead then and there. - And I didn't mean it like that... Everyone treats her either as a ghost or like an egg which could break any second. Just treat her as a human being, not as a daughter of a dead father. Talk to her. And don't creepily watch her sleep ever again, because you won’t have to wait for Kazansky to kill you, I'll do it for him, I'm serious. - his expression told Beau that indeed, he wasn't joking. 

Cyclone sighed heavily and straightened himself, trying to put on his usual expression of confidence and nonchalance, which came surprisingly easy. 

- Could you...? - he asked before they went their separate ways. 

- Yeah, yeah... Your creepy little secret is safe with me... - he just shook his head when his friend's face showed nothing but relief for a short moment. - But seriously, she's a human being first, just remember that. - Cyclone only nodded, straightened himself and readjusted the flies and laptop he was holding in his hands. - Atta boy. - older man couldn't help but laugh and patted his friend on the shoulder. 

But when Beau was passing his door, he couldn't help but take one last look at the sleeping girl in his office... She looked so innocent and peaceful, curled up in a tiny ball on only one couch cushion, desperately trying to occupy as little space as possible. Her breathing was steady, and he could see her chest slowly raising and coming down, even from that far. He didn't have time to study the light freckles on her cheeks that were glistening like gold in the rays of morning sunshine. He took this sight one last time and gently closed the door, leaving her completely alone, which was much more true than he realized at the moment. 

Next time he saw you was on the balcony of the hangar. He was looking for a quiet space to eat, because he hated eating in the canteen with a passion. Someone was always either staring at him, or trying to talk to him, and he wasn't sure which was worse. He also didn't want to eat in his office, because he honestly thought, you were still there and he didn't want to disturb you. So, he was a bit surprised when he saw you in one of the biggest hangars, where the lights were off and the only sound that could be heard was planes landing and taking off on the tarmac. 

He didn't say anything, just sat about a meter away from you, took a smoothie from his lunch bag and placed it right next to you, wordlessly giving it to you, and started to eat his sandwich in silence. He didn't ask any questions, didn't make any remarks, just... kept you company, while you couldn't stop staring at the glass bottle, he presented you with. You eventually placed your dad's notebook on the ground and cautiously took the glass bottle into one hand. Even though the intention was obvious, you still weren't entirely sure if it wasn't happening in your imagination. 

- Peanuts...? - you asked quietly, without even looking at him. Your voice hoarse and rough from all the crying and screaming. You honestly weren't sure exactly when was the last time you spoke to anyone. Even your mother wasn't calling you that often, tired of your constant grief; you didn't blame her though. Cyclone only shook his head for no, which you caught with a corner of your eye. 

- Cashews, apples, kiwis, coconut milk and fresh, young nettle. - he said after he swallowed the bite of his sandwich. You still held the glass bottle as if it was about to explode any moment, but eventually you opened it and took a sniff before you put it to your lips and took a sip. It was... good. Tasty. 

- Thank you... - you whispered and started slowly sipping on the smoothie while he continued eating his breakfast. He only nodded once in response, letting you know that there’s nothing to thank for. 

You of course knew him... For the last couple of years, you were interpreting your dad's words in the meetings with him at least couple of times a week. You didn't know much about his personal life though. But right now, he was the right person in the right place, at the right time. His mere presence brought you weird comfort, taking you back to simpler times. 

He finished the meal first, but he didn't go, just reclined a bit, seeking support in the wall behind. He wasn't rushing you and didn't even give you impression that he was in a hurry, so you continue to take small sips of something that had actual sustenance, instead of tea or a single fruit that you could barely stomach. You knew you should be eating more, because you started to see bones through your skin that you weren't able to see before the funeral. The clothes were secondary, because you were mostly wearing your dad's old t-shirts and jackets, which were already much too big for you, but they brought you comfort, and you held to that small piece of support with all your might. but because of that, you haven't noticed how much weight you actually lost. 

So, you were extremely grateful for that smoothie, because you just didn't have the energy to even think about the food, you just didn't know how to show it or say it, so a simple "thank you" had to suffice, at least for now. 

You weren't sure how much time had passed until you finally finished the drink and closed the bottle, but it was at least half an hour, maybe even closer to an hour. You suspected that he had other things to do, yet he was sitting on the cold, metal floor of a balcony with you, as if you were kids who just met in the kindergarten. And if you had to be completely honest, you didn't mind that. Because he didn't do or say anything that was supposed to make you feel better. You were just two people. Eating breakfast. And for the first time in weeks, you smiled... 

He joined you later that day again; you were still sitting on the same balcony, so you weren't exactly hard to find. This time he brought you a wrap with smoked salmon, avocado, sunflower seeds and Philadelphia cheese. He had sushi... And you sat in complete silence again, not even one word between you this time, because even simple "thank you" seemed too heavy for you.

You didn't know why he was doing that, but deep inside, you were grateful. It was your second meal of the day since forever, and he stayed with you till you ate it whole, which took at least thirty minutes, because the bites you were taking were small and far apart. And yet he didn't say a word, didn't complain, didn't rush you... Just sat there and ate his sushi, and after he finished, he leaned again on the wall behind him. It wasn't easy for you to relax, but you at least didn't find his presence overbearing, which was progress. 

Small, yet somehow significant. But Rome wasn't built in a day.

After you finished eating, he took the wrapping from you to throw away and left you alone again, saying goodbye with a simple smile.

In the afternoon he brought you hot black tea, a caramel cookie and a blanket, which you let him drape over your body while you were holding thermal mug in your hands. He was really careful and made sure not to actually touch you, because in his mind it was a line, he wasn't ready to cross just yet. He again sat with you while you were slowly nibbling on the cookie and sipping tea. You suspected that the mug he brought the tea in was his personal one, because you seriously doubted that navy had yeti mugs just laying around, but you didn't say a word. Commenting on that would require much more energy than you had left in your batteries for today. Maybe tomorrow... 

This time he didn't bring anything for himself, so he was just sitting next to you with his eyes closed. He was breathing slow and steady, and that quiet, rhythmic sound somehow managed to ground you enough that you finally looked at him. The sun was slowly setting over the horizon and shined its rays on both of you... He looked... tired. But at the same time calm and content. You could tell that he wasn't in any hurry to get anywhere, and if he had any worries on his mind, there weren't reaching him this high up. You could see his chest slowly rising with every breath... Unknowingly, you focused on the same things he noticed about you, when he was looking at you sleeping. 

You eventually looked forward again and went back to slowly sipping from a giant mug of tea. You were surprised to learn that it was your favorite - earl grey with bluebottle flowers, with a little bit of honey. You doubted that it was an accident, but you honestly didn't care right now; it didn't matter.

Only after you finished your tea, you realized that he wasn't just sitting there... He fell asleep, and that made you smile for the second time today. You placed an empty mug on his left side, and moved a bit closer to him. The metal floor was getting colder this late in the day, and he was bound to get cold sooner rather than later, so you unfolded the blanket he draped over you, and put it around him as well. If he was tired enough to fall asleep here, he definitely deserved to get some rest. The blanket was big enough that it covered both of you, without forcing you to touch, so you could go back to re-reading your dad's journal in the last rays of sun for the day. 

At first you didn't notice his scent, because the detergent on the blanket was so strong, but it finally got to you, after few minutes of sitting in such close proximity. He smelled faintly of either pine or spruce, and a hint of very good quality soap. At first it distracted you, but it didn't take long for you to stop consciously noticing it. It still surrounded you though... 

You weren't sure what was the exact reason... If it was the heat radiating of the body next to you, his calm and steady breath, the fact that you actually ate today, or maybe the combination of all three, but you eventually joined him and fell asleep, sitting under one blanket with vice-admiral Beau Simpson. 

When he woke up, he didn't know where he was at first. His back and ass were cold, but the front of his body was pleasantly warm. It was dark all around him and he had trouble identifying anything. But finally his train of thoughts caught up with reality, and he realized what, or rather who, was responsible for the additional weight on his thighs. 

He gave his eyes few minutes to adjust to the darkness and he was finally able to see the familiar outline of your head, which made him smile. He still couldn't say what exactly possessed you to lay on him and, but the realization finally got to him, based on the blanket placement. You must have fell in your sleep, without even realizing it, and it made him chuckle a little. He couldn't help but move your hair from your forehead and you took a deeper breath when he did that. He didn't want to wake you up, but at the same time, he knew that it wasn't the best place for you to sleep, mostly because of the temperature, and he didn't want you to get sick. 

But he selfishly didn't move for few more minutes, just taking in your presence. He was watching you from afar for so long, that actually being so close to you seemed... surreal, almost like a dream. Especially in the moonlight that was coming through the giant windows above you. In his eyes, you looked as if you stepped straight out of a fairy-tale to bless him with your company. 

You looked so peaceful and he hated that he had to disturb that, but to his surprise, when he touched your arm and gently shook it, you didn't wake up... You didn't even react in the slightest. 

At first, he wanted to try to call your name, to shake you a bit stronger, but another, admittingly more creepy plan won in his head. 

Very gently he hooked your arm on his neck, turned towards you, and grabbed you under your knees and your back. You weighed almost nothing in his arms, and he could feel your shoulder blades even through the jacket you were wearing. Your head moved forward and rested on his chest, instead of lulling back, following the gravity. He left his mug on the balcony, making a mental note to come back for it later, when you'll be out of his arms. 

He walked slowly and carefully, trying his best not to wake you up. There wasn't a lot of people in the corridors this late, and those who were, suddenly went quiet and found something else to look at. At first, he wanted to get you to his office, but he selfishly didn't want to leave you there alone, and sleeping on the rough carpet didn't sound that appealing... Instead, he took you to the quarters that were assigned to him. It was a small room, with almost no decoration. There was a bunk bed built into the wall, even though he was the only one assigned to this room, a small desk, a wardrobe, armchair in the corner. 

He didn't spend a lot of time here, preferring his house off the base, but this room was still available to him if needed. And today definitely qualified under "if needed". He didn't even turn the lights on because he knew how harsh they were, and he was afraid that you would wake up. 

He gently placed you on the lower bed.

He was torn about what to do next, but he eventually unlaced your shoes, took them off, and placed them under the bed. Not creepy at all. At last, he slowly moved the duvet from under you and covered you with it, even though you were still wrapped in a blanket. But when he was covering your shoulders, you desperately grabbed his wrist in your sleep and pulled it closer to your chest. He tried to gently pry your fingers away, so he could climb into the top bed and fall asleep, but you didn't want to let go.

He honestly considered climbing in the bed with you for a moment, but Solomon's voice slapped him over the head and instead he sighed heavily. Without moving too much, he grabbed a cushion from the armchair and placed it on the floor next to the bed. he also grabbed a pillow from the top bunk and did his best to find the most comfortable position while sitting on the floor. He eventually unbuttoned and loosened his collar. In the ideal world, he would be able to take his shirt of completely without waking you up, leaving only his t-shirt... That was a lie... In the ideal world, he wouldn't have to worry so much about you because you wouldn't be grieving... He also took his shoes off and put a pillow on the shoulder that you were currently trying to pull closer, and rested his head on it, trying to find the best angle, so the edge of the bed wouldn't be stabbing his ribs.

He looked at you one last time before closing his eyes and focused on your breathing for a moment.

It was calm and steady, which told him that even though you were clutching his arms like a lifebuoy, you didn't have a nightmare; at least that's what he was hoping for...

You woke up in an unfamiliar place, yet somehow you felt calmer than you felt in weeks. At first you didn't even want to open your eyes, in fear that if you did, that bubble of serenity would disappear in a blink of an eye. So, you laid there without even moving a finger, allowing yourself absorb every second of that bliss. 

Only after good five minutes you realized that you were holding someone's hand and your eyes shot open in a slight panic, which only grew when you realized your current position. 

Vice-admiral Beau Simpson was sitting on the floor, draped over the edge of the bed in which you were currently laying. Your heartrate immediately jumped, and your brain slowly started to fill in the blanks with the most rational possibility. You fell asleep. He took you to this room so you could sleep in the bed. But you didn't let him go... 

So, he slept next to you. On the floor. In a very uncomfortable position. 

It must have been very early, because the sun wasn't fully over the horizon yet, painting the sky with a muted orange color, that filled the room almost completely. 

You took a closer look at his sleeping face for the second time during last twenty-four hours; the calmness of if somehow rubbed off on you, and you weren't panicking anymore... You couldn't place exactly why you were reacting that way to his presence, but you did... And now it was your turn to do something creepy and stupid... 

Without letting him go, you gently cupped his cheek with your free hand and his eyes immediately shot open, but he calmed down when he saw you. You didn't say anything... Instead, you pulled him towards you, and moved closer to the wall, making space for him under heavy duvet in the very narrow bed, and he followed... Like a puppy on a leash... He climbed into bed with you, ignoring all the sirens in his head.

You let go of his hand and he pulled the covers over both of you, and just as he was beginning to feel unsure about what to do with his limbs, you took his arm again and guided it around your body, letting it rest on the top part of your stomach, and covered it with your own. After that his other hand easily found a place under your pillow and his left ankle rested on top of your right. 

At this moment in time, this was the only thing you needed from life... 

You didn't even realize how quickly your breaths synchronized, lulling both of you back to sleep. 

When you woke up for the second time, the sun was high up, and he was gone... You couldn't help feeling a bit sad. You knew that he had to work, and there were total of... 12 words exchanged between you two. But to your surprise, that sadness had a different taste than the one you felt constantly for the last two months... But you knew that if you started analyzing and dissecting it, you would spiral again. 

When you turned around and looked around the room, you noticed your bag resting on the floor next to the desk, your dad's journal on the desk, and a another glass bottle with a short "no peanuts" scribbled on a post-it note stuck to the side of it. But... you didn't want to get out of bed just yet. Your rational brain was screaming at you that you definitely should, because you were already abusing vice-admiral's hospitality. Not to mention that you used his body... Well, not in the most obvious way, but still... On the other hand, he wasn't exactly yelling at you and protesting. 

So, staying in bed it was... 

But first you took your jacket off and hung it over the ladders edge. You also took of your jeans and socks because it was extremely warm under the duvet. It definitely wasn't navy issued and even only in your underwear and your dad's much too big for you t-shirt, you were hot. But it was pleasant, because for the longest time you were always cold... It was partially to the fact that you weren’t eating enough, and partially because you were... well... depressed. So, you welcomed that warmness with your whole heart, covering even your head, leaving only a small gap for the oxygen to come in. 

It wasn't long before you fell asleep again, surrounded by a very subtle pine or spruce smell. 

Next time you didn't wake up on your own... Vice-Admiral Simpson was kneeling next to the bed and gently moving your hair from your forehead. 

- You need to eat something... - he whispered quietly. He didn't want to wake you up, but when he came back with lunch and saw that you didn't even touch your breakfast, he got a little bit worried. You wanted to shake your head for no, because you already ate so much yesterday, and you were still full from that... Sleep sounded much better than eating. But instead of refusing you ended up following his nods. - Just a quick small meal, and you can go back to sleep, ok...? - he asked, but it wasn't a request. You propped yourself on the wall behind you and took a glass bottle you saw earlier from his hands. 

It took you a good minute to hype yourself up to actually take a sip, but when you saw relief on his face... Well... It helped with every sip that followed the first one. 

He stayed with you until you finished the whole smoothie and gave you a gentle smile when he took the empty bottle from your hands. You moved your pinky just by few millimeters, so you could touch his hand. You weren't entirely sure if you did that consciously or subconsciously, but he didn't pull away for few more seconds, allowing the touch to linger. 

He wanted nothing more than to climb to bed with you again and protect you from both the outside world and what was happening in your mind, and you were so naively allowing him to do so... He couldn't help but feel like he was taking advantage of you, but you were a fully grown woman... Much, much younger than him, but still.

He wanted to tell you how much of a good girl you were for drinking the whole smoothie, and how proud and happy he was that you were finally getting enough sleep, but that would cross so many lines, that he wasn't even sure if he could count that high. 

You were so obviously depressed and grieving, that even an idiot would have noticed, and instead of getting you professional help, he was selfishly keeping you in his room, feeding you food he prepared and occasionally climbing in the bed with you... 

He clenched his jaw and finally pulled away, breaking this small point of contact between your bodies. And everything would have been fine, if you didn't follow his movements, and kneeled on his bed, and cupped his face with your right hand, forcing him to look you in the eyes. He almost immediately looked away, afraid of what you could possible find there, but you followed his gaze and intercepted it again. 

- Thank you... - your voice barely a whisper, because you couldn’t make it any stronger... Not yet... He only nodded in response and moved away from your hand by finally standing up.

- I will leave the lunch on the desk... It's a crab sushi roll, please try to eat it when you'll wake up next time, ok...? - he pleaded and you simply couldn't say no to that, so you nodded - Also, there is grape juice... - "your favorite..." he wanted to add, but he didn't want to explain exactly how he knew that. But your soft smile told him everything he needed to know. - Do you... want a book? - he asked with one hand on the door handle, and you considered your response for a moment, but eventually shook your head for no. You didn't think you had enough in you to process anything new. He gave you one last, soft smile and you were alone again. 

Usually, it would the prime time for a panic attack, but you stayed calm, grounded by the subtle scent vice-admiral left behind. 

You laid back in bed, and closed your eyes, even though it was the middle of the day, and harsh rays of sunshine would make it extremely hard for a regular person to fall asleep. But you had 2 months of catching up to do. And you were going to squeeze everything you possible could from that bubble of calmness, because you honestly didn't know how long it would last.

Next time you woke up, it was still bright outside, and nothing in the room changed, so you assumed that no one visited you while you slept. At first you wanted to go back to sleep immediately, but you remembered that you promised Beau that you would at least try to eat... With a heavy sigh, you got out of bed; but before you got to the food, you opened a window, to let some fresh air in. What you didn't predict was, that the fresh air was cold. So, you took your lunch and grape juice, sat in the armchair, curled your legs under you and pulled a t-shirt over them. 

It took you good five minutes before you actually took a first bite, and even longer to take the second one... But you kept at it, slowly but surely eating the lunch that Beau prepared for you. And you were sure that he made it because you knew canteen menu well enough to know that they didn't have sushi. If you weren't so cut from reality, you would be wondering what all that meant, but at this specific moment you could find the energy only for slowly eating. And with every bite it was easier to take and swallow the next one. It wasn't a big portion, and yet you still weren't able to eat more than half. 

And this time you didn't go straight back to sleep after eating... Instead, you grabbed the journal and continued reading where you left off yesterday. 

That's how vice-admiral Simpson found you... Curled up in his chair, completely hidden in a tent made from your dad's t-shirt, so even your toes weren't visible, with a very old journal in your hands. One look at the desk told him that you did your best to follow his request, and then was that feeling again... The one that demanded that he tell you how proud and happy he was, but he squashed it before it grew any bigger. 

- I brought you some towels, a toothbrush and a change of clothes. You don't have to do anything, they will just be here, in case you'd want them... - he placed the small bundle on the edge of the desk. He also brought with him a thermal mug full of tea. "I'm sorry I can't stay..." he wanted to apologize while holding you closely in his arms and showering you with gentle kisses all over your neck and chest. Instead, he just put a yeti mug on the desk close to you, and was gone before you even managed to thank him. 

For a few more minutes you tried to focus on your father's handwriting, but your eyes kept wondering to the bundle he left for you. You didn't have to, he said it himself... But you were curious enough to stand up from the armchair and take a closer look. Towel was nothing special... Well, at the first glance. Another thing that might have looked like it was military issued but wasn't. The one you were currently holding in your hands was much, much bigger, and softer than the ones issued in the common area. Inside the towel there was a plain white t-shirt, soft grey shorts, plain black underwear and... fluffy dark-green socks. To say that you were surprised would be an understatement. Not only underwear was in your size, but you couldn't help but wonder where he got the socks from. You gently run your fingers through the soft material, and you couldn't help but smile. 

Now you definitely had to take that shower. 

You correctly assumed that the second door indeed led to a very tiny bathroom. You took your clothes off, folded them neatly and stepped into the shower. Both the water pressure and the temperature were perfect, and you spent much more time in the bathroom than you initially planned. It was spruce, not pine... you realized when you saw the shampoo on the small shelf. He was using a natural, spruce scented shampoo... And now you will smell like him... 

You dried yourself with a towel and put on the clothes he gave you. Both shorts and t-shirt were too big for you, but you honestly didn't mind. You did your best to dry your hair, but they were still very damp when you left the bathroom. You hang the towel on the radiator, so it would dry faster, and finally put on the fluffy socks. It was such a small thing, and yet it brought you so much joy. Not only they were extremely soft, but they were also in your favorite color. You settled back in the armchair and looked first at the journal and then at the unfinished roll... You sighed heavily and reached for the latter. 

It took you more time than taking a shower to finish your lunch, but you finally did, after which you got up again to wash your teeth. You noticed that he gave you the same toothbrush as the one that was in the cup on the sink, and since you didn't want them to mix up, you just placed yours on shelf next to the mirror, which you avoided more than a plague. 

All that food and hot temperature started to knock you out and you climbed back to bed, hid under the covers and almost immediately dozed off. 

When Cyclone came back to his temporary quarters, he felt that nagging feeling again... You not only ate everything he left for you, but also found enough energy to take a shower, which he knew must have been huge, ever since you stopped running on that harmful autopilot and had to actually think about what you were doing. He took one look at you and the warmth spilled inside his chest... You were laying in his bed, wearing his clothes, smelling like him... He couldn't help that feeling of possessiveness that crept in and demanded that he marks you in so many more ways, but he squashed it again. Now was not the time... And he was better than his basic instincts. 

So instead, he went to the bathroom and took a quick cold shower. He noticed with a soft smile that you kept your toothbrush separated from his; he should have thought about it earlier and bring you one that didn't look like his, but still... A very small thing, yet it left a mark that you were there. 

You didn't wake up to the quiet hum of the water, or when he took a fresh set of clothes from the wardrobe to wear to bed. And before he climbed up to the top bunk, he took one look at you, only now noticing that you were shivering. He quickly closed the window and put the duvet over you. He wanted to kiss your forehead so badly... but he didn't, settling on tucking your hair behind your ear, so he could see your face better. You looked... a bit more like you today, than you did yesterday. 

He sighed softly and finally climbed in the top bed. 

You knew that something was wrong before you even woke up. Your heart was pounding, your hands and legs were shaking, your cheeks were completely soaked with silent tears, and when you finally woke up, you couldn't catch your breath. You tried to stay as quiet as you could, while attempting to take gasp after gasp of air, but your lungs just weren't cooperating. You knew what it was, you knew how to deal with it in theory. Yet when it came to actually calming down... You were desperate... 

You got out of your bed and as gently as you could, put your cold fingers on Beau's shoulder, which jolted him awake. And when he saw in what state you were in, you didn't even register how he got down; you just felt his arms pulling you to his chest and surrounding you from every angle. His embrace was strong enough to ground you in reality, and his scent only amplified that. You were openly sobbing into his shirt, not really caring about the potential consequences. You didn't register when exactly he sat on the lover bunk, and pulled you with him, letting you curl up in his lap, with his arms still tightly wrapped around you. He pressed his cheek you your forehead and was whispering something you didn't understand in your current state, but his voice alone was enough to pulled you out of that spiral and try to match his breathing, even if that hurt your lungs in the short term. You knew from experience that it was the best option to pull you out of that self-loathing spiral. He realized what you were trying to do and started breathing a bit quicker so it would be easier for you to match that tempo, and only after you did that, he slowed down again... 

Only now you started to process what he was saying to you... How well you were doing, what a good girl you were, how brave you were, how he was proud that you started to calm down... You weren't even sure if he realized what he was saying, because as soon as you went stiff in his arms, he immediately stopped, as if it hit him too. 

The rational part of your brain was screaming at you that it wasn't normal and that you should get out, but everything else was telling you to stay near him at all costs. You weren't sure if you were getting addicted to him or what any of it meant... You just knew you felt safe, and for now... That was more than you could have said about your own home. At this specific moment, you didn't give a shit if he was using you, or if you were using him, because it just felt so good... not to feel numb.

- I'm sorry... - you mumbled against his skin, still clinging to his shirt with one hand, as if you were afraid that if you let go, all of this would disappear, and you would be alone again. 

- Shhhhh... It's ok, it's ok... - he started to gently rub your back and pulled you even closer, which you thought was impossible... - What do you need, babygirl…? - a pet name left his mouth before he even realized that it started forming on his tongue, and when it reached your ears, it was already too late. For both of you... 

- Just... Don't leave... Please... - you finally whispered, and he could swear you would be able to hear his heart break for you... You needed so much more than he felt he was able to give you and it broke him, but heavens and hells be damned, if he didn't at least try. 

- I'm here, I'm not going anywhere... - he whispered against the top of your head. - Just let it all go, I'm here to catch you... - he said and that was enough for you to start sobbing again, but this time not because of the panic attack... 

After two months of suppressing everything you possibly could, you finally felt safe enough to actually let some of those things go. It was stupid and small, but you were slowly accepting one small thing after another... You will never get a message from your dad wishing you a good day. You will never wave him goodbye from your childhood bedroom when he'd be leaving to DC or somewhere else... You will never clean up after his botched breakfast... You will never sneak into his workshop to scare him. Never fight with him about your non-existing parking skills. Never watch him start a fire in the fireplace. Never get a handwritten letter from him on your birthday. Never bicker with him about the correct way to store chopped wood. Never sing another Christmas song with him...

So many small things that clumped together into one giant monstrosity that consumed every aspect of your life, and letting it go in one move was simply impossible. So, you slowly chipped away one thing after another, spent a short moment holding it close to your heart for the last time and finally let it go...

You couldn't stop crying, but a moment came when you run out of tears, so you ended up quietly sobbing into Beau's shirt, clinging to him, as if he was the last thing on Earth.

And he didn't lie... He was there to catch you when you were falling. Every time you started sobbing harder, he gently soothed your back, started whispering sweet nothings straight into your ear, and what was most important, he didn't let you go, not even for a second. 

Both of you were lost in time, holding each other to give and receive comfort you both so desperately needed, just for entirely different reasons. 

It took him a moment to realize that you passed out from exhaustion, because after a while, you started to sob without making any sounds, only shaking against him from time to time... He dried your wet cheeks with his thumb and just looked at you for a long moment. The sun was getting ready to raise up again and started creeping into the room but wasn't reaching the bed just yet. He no longer gave a fuck about what was proper and what was not... Not when you broke in his arms, and he couldn't do anything more than just not let you go... He laid you down and he couldn't believe how peaceful you looked after what just happened. 

Before he joined you, he lowered the blinds and shot a quick message to Solomon, so he'd be able to keep his promise to you. It was dangerously easy for him to slip into bed next to you and find the perfect position to wrap you in his arms and pull you as close to him as humanly possible. In your sleep you grabbed the front of his shirt and tightened your fingers around it, and he didn't mind that in the slightest. He rested his face in your hair and was content with just being surrounded with your scent, which was dangerously close to his own now. He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head and felt your fingers relaxing a bit, but he didn't do that again, afraid of what he could do if he'd start moving that line further and further away. 

He wasn't able to fall asleep for the longest time, because he was afraid that you might wake up in the middle of another breakdown, so he just laid there with his eyes closed, listening to your breathing mixed with familiar sounds of a military base waking up... Somehow this tiny room became its own microcosm in the last 24 hours, and it felt like it was disconnected from anything else, despite being so close to, well... everything. He could hear the laughter of young pilots, running water somewhere far away, people complaining about the breakfast. And yet, all of that felt at least few universes away, when you were in his arms. But finally, this part of the base became quiet with everyone getting to their duties, and only now he was able to doze off... 

Part 2

A/N 2: Please don't feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. But I would really appreciated if you commented :) Love, G.

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :) Love, G.

[callsign-jinx]

A Rebel in my Soul [2023 ver.] | Ch.1 New friends and old enemies

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x fem!pilot!reader (Call sign: Rebel)

Word count: 3k-4k

Warnings: mention of Goose and Carole’s death, mentions of death, Jake being an asshole, mentions of drinks, Fanboy being a literal sunshine, you know the deal.

A/N: WELL WELL WELL. do i have self control? no. am i uploading this bc it is fun to sit and read my first series and think ‘i should’ve done this differently’ and changing loooots of things? yes. it is easier than just write a new fic? yep. And i’m loving every second of it. There’s gonna be major changes, i’ll be showing more rebel x dagger squad interactions and maybe this version will have more chapters than the original one.

A/N 2: reuploading this bc i realized MORE MISTAKES ugh

Tagging the usual people, if you want to be added, comment down below!

Masterlist

"Rebel shouldn’t be here."

Those were Maverick’s first words when he saw your face among the profile pictures of the aviators assigned to the mission. He was well aware that the odds of survival on this one were slim—that’s why they’d called him in. He was the expert at defying the impossible.

And that was just one of the many things you both shared.

“Any particular reason why, Captain?” Cyclone asked, already regretting he’d followed Iceman’s advice to bring Mitchell in.

“You know who she is.”

Cyclone tapped a few times on his tablet, making your picture fill the screen. “That’s exactly why she’s here, Mitchell. She’s every bit as good as you, but without the tendency to break the rules.”

“You know where her call sign comes from, right?” Maverick asked, unsure if Cyclone truly understood the meaning of ‘Rebel.’

“It’s not about you, Maverick. She never told anyone about her father,” Cyclone explained wearily, clearly wanting to wrap up the meeting. “Look, you don’t have a choice. You either take this mission, or you kiss your military career goodbye.”

How was he supposed to turn down the mission? Not just because of his daughter, but because Goose’s son, Rooster, was on the team. He couldn’t bear the thought of risking the life of his best friend’s son. He had promised Carole before she passed away that he would look after her kid. He’d tried to honor that promise, but all it had gotten him was the loss of the only Bradshaw left in his life—and his own daughter.

Maverick knew he was in no position to request that Rooster and Rebel be pulled from the mission, but he couldn’t help but wish he could. No. That was a terrible idea. He’d interfered in their careers too many times already. If he ever wanted any chance at a relationship with either of them again, he couldn’t make that mistake twice. He’d learned that the hard way.

Rebel was just a few years younger than Rooster, and, as if he hadn’t learned from his past mistakes, Maverick had tried to pull his daughter’s papers. He couldn’t bear the thought of her becoming a pilot, risking her life every time she took to the skies. When she found out, Rebel swore she would never speak to him again.

Maverick knew he had no choice but to take on this mission as an instructor, to train the two of you—his kids—and pray that nothing went wrong when the time came.

This would be Maverick’s toughest mission yet.

It had been a while since you’d been to the Hard Deck—at least two years. From what you’d heard, Penny was now the owner of the bar. She was an old friend of yours, someone who had once been in a complicated relationship with your father. As a little girl, you’d dreamed that she might one day become your mom. Little Rebel had been a very innocent girl back then.

Scanning the bar for familiar faces, you spot Coyote and Hangman playing pool. Their presence here could only mean two things: one, the mission is serious, and they need the best aviators available. Hangman was the only aviator you knew with a confirmed air-to-air kill. And two, Rooster would be here too.

"Rebel?" A surprised voice calls from behind you.

You recognize that voice instantly, and when you turn around to see the smile on Nat’s face, you can’t help but grin. "Phoenix? Oh my god, it’s so good to see you! Are you here for the super-secret mission?" you say, stepping forward to hug her.

“You thought they could call the best of the best and leave me out of it?” Phoenix asks with a smirk.

“Fair point,” you agree, pulling her in for another hug. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too.” She steps back, gesturing to the two tall men standing behind her. “Hey, let me introduce you to my friends. Rebel, these are Reuben Fitch, call sign Payback, and Mickey Garcia, call sign Fanboy.”

“Fanboy?” you ask, raising an eyebrow. “Quite the call sign.”

“Guess that’s what happens when you’ve got a bit of taste,” Fanboy shrugs with a grin.

“Hmm... which fandom?” you tease.

“Trek,” he says proudly, his smile widening.

“Trek is the best,” you say, nodding in approval.

“Look at that, my new best friend,” Fanboy declares, throwing an arm around your shoulder and shooting a playful look at Payback. “See? Someone with taste.”

“You’re not getting rid of him now,” Payback warns, half-joking, half-serious.

“What would I want to get rid of him for?” you laugh, glancing between the two men. "Seems like he’s got the best taste."

Mickey hugs you closer, almost choking you in his embrace. “Oh my, I found my soulmate.” 

Phoenix scans the bar until her eyes land on Hangman. She sighs, rolling her eyes. “They really need to be desperate to bring an asshole like him.”  

“Nat, he’s an asshole, but he’s a talented asshole. He’s really good.” 

“Please, don’t talk like him,” Phoenix groans, pretending to gag. “I’ll throw up.”

Fanboy and Payback burst into laughter at Phoenix’s antics. “Come on,” she adds with a mischievous grin. “Let’s mess with the cowboy a little.”

You and your new friends approach the pool table, and Hangman looks up as you get closer. His eyes flicker with recognition before a smug grin spreads across his face. “What do we have here? If it ain’t Phoenix! Oh, well, well, good little Rebel is also in the building! And here I thought we were special, Coyote.”

“Special like you? No thanks, I’ll pass,” you retort with a smirk, earning another round of laughter from Fanboy and Payback.

“Fellas, this here’s Bag Man,” Phoenix says, standing right in front of the blonde aviator.

“Hangman,” he corrects her, his usual cocky smirk in place.

“Whatever,” Phoenix shrugs. “You’re looking at the only Naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill.”

You glance at her, wondering why she’s praising him now. Wasn’t she just planning to mess with him?

“Stop,” Hangman responds, clearly basking in his own inflated ego.

“Mind you,” Phoenix continues, her tone suddenly playful, “the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War.”

There it is. Phoenix is roasting the hell out of Hangman, and you can’t help but grin. That’s your girl.

“Cold War,” Coyote adds, as if that makes Hangman look any cooler. There’s something about their friendship that never quite made sense to you. Coyote is a better person than Hangman could ever hope to be—so why the hell is he always attached to an idiot like him?

“Different wars, same century,” Payback chimes in with a smirk.

“Not this one,” Fanboy adds, throwing in his own punch. You’re starting to really like these two.

The look on Hangman’s face is priceless—clearly a mix of irritation and confusion. He doesn’t like being the butt of the joke, and you can’t say you blame him. But honestly, Hangman had a way of getting under your skin every time you were in the same room with him. Phoenix, though, was always ready to mop the floor with him—because “nobody messes with my girl.” She’d always been like the sister you never had.

And by the looks of it, Payback and Fanboy were quickly warming up to their new role in Hangman’s personal roasting squad. You couldn’t wait to see how far this would go.

“Who are your friends?” Coyote asks, clearly trying to shift the focus away from Hangman, always the loyal defender.

“Payback,” the pilot answers with a grin.

“Fanboy,” adds Mickey with a wink.

You turn toward Coyote and offer a casual, “Hey, Coyote.”

“Hey,” he replies, his tone easygoing.

You nod toward the blond-haired man who’s been quietly eating in the corner. “Who’s he?”

“Who’s who?” Coyote asks, genuinely puzzled.

Your little group turns to look at the man, who seems to have just noticed the sudden attention. He raises his head, blinking in surprise. And then you realize—he’s cute.

“When did you get in?” Coyote asks, finally noticing him for the first time.

“Oh, I’ve been here the whole time,” the man answers with a warm smile. His voice is calm, friendly—a stark contrast to the usual cocky arrogance of most pilots.

You study him for a moment. He can’t be a pilot. Pilots are cocky little shitheads. This guy, though, he’s the kind of guy who would bring your daughter home an hour before curfew just to earn her father’s approval. There’s something endearing about him, and you can’t quite place why.

“The man’s a stealth pilot,” Hangman jokes, always eager to be the center of attention.

“Literally,” you add, deadpan.

“WSO, actually,” the blond man clarifies. A Wizzo, of course. He definitely has that vibe.

“With no sense of humor,” Hangman quips, tossing the pool stick to Phoenix before walking off.

“I’ll get us something to drink,” you say, heading toward the bar. Of course, Hangman seems to have had the same idea.

"Penny, my dear. I’ll have four more on the old timer," you hear him call out, giving the poor bartender a look that probably signals trouble. Your stomach flips when you spot the familiar face across the bar.

Why is he here? What the hell is he doing at Top Gun? Is he coming back as an instructor? You can already feel the knot in your stomach tightening. It didn’t work the first time he tried to return. Maverick didn’t have the freedom he needed back then, and he certainly couldn’t play by the rules in the way he always did.

Penny catches your gaze, her lips forming a small, sympathetic pout. She knows exactly what this situation is doing to you. You don’t need to say a word for her to understand that seeing your father again—especially here—stirs up more than just old memories.

You don’t make eye contact with your father. Instead, you focus on Hangman, trying to ignore the tension in your chest. "Need help with those?"

He glances over at you with a raised eyebrow. "What, you’re afraid I’ll let them fall?"

"No, I was just offering," you mutter, mentally kicking yourself for even trying to be nice to him. Why did you do that?

Hangman looks at you like you’ve suddenly sprouted a second head.

"What?" you grumble, genuinely confused by the look on his face.

"...You okay?"

Wait. Is he joking? Is he actually concerned, or is he just messing with you again? You hesitate for a moment, then decide to just go along with it. "Yes? Why?"

"Because you’re being nice to me," he says flatly, as if it’s the most bizarre thing he’s ever encountered.

You blink, unsure how to respond. Being nice to him isn’t exactly part of the plan, but it’s not like you had any intention of picking a fight, either.

Before you can answer Hangman, you see Rooster walk through the doors of the Hard Deck. He’s wearing a Hawaiian shirt and aviator sunglasses, looking tanner than usual. The moment his eyes land on Maverick, you know hell is going to break loose. You have to avoid that confrontation. At least for now.

"Roos!" you call, sprinting toward him.

He grins wide and catches you in his arms, pulling you into a tight hug. "Look at that, my favorite Rebel! Did they call you too? You didn’t tell me."

“Well, it is a secret mission,” you tease, swiping his aviators and putting them on. “How was I supposed to say anything?”

“Fair enough,” he laughs, setting you down gently. “The others are here too?”

“Yeah,” you nod, keeping the mood light. “Even your best friend.”

Rooster raises an eyebrow, and you can already feel the tension in the air as he realizes who you're talking about. But he doesn’t say anything—yet.

“Phoenix?” Rooster asks, a grin spreading across his face.

“Bag Man,” you reply, rolling your eyes as he pats your shoulder affectionately. “Let’s go with the rest,” you say, starting to move away from the entrance. You can feel your father’s eyes on you, but you ignore the weight of his stare, focusing on keeping things light.

As you and Rooster walk further into the bar, Phoenix calls out, “Bradshaw, is that you?”

You both stop and turn toward her as she walks up. “This is how I find out you’re stateside?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d surprise you,” Rooster replies, the grin still on his face.

Phoenix leans against the pool table, lining up her shot. But then, just as she pulls back the cue stick, she deliberately swings it the wrong way and smacks Rooster right in the gut. He bends over in pain, and you can’t help but burst out laughing. It’s like old times.

Rooster looks up at Phoenix, a smile breaking through his pain. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you too,” she replies with a wink, clearly enjoying the moment just as much as you are.

Hangman strolls back from the bar, beers in hand, his eyes locking directly with Rooster. He hands one to everyone at the table—except you and Bob. Fantastic. Now you’ll have to make another trip to the bar.

“Bradshaw. As I live and breathe,” Hangman says, grinning like the cocky bastard he is, as he swipes the pool stick from Bob’s hands.

“Hangman, you look... good,” Rooster says, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Well, I am good, Rooster,” Hangman replies, casually sinking a ball with perfect precision. “In fact, I’m too good to be true.”

The rest of the aviators exchange exasperated looks, shaking their heads in disbelief. Fanboy glances at you, mouthing ‘what the fuck?’ You just shake your head in response. Yeah, you stopped being surprised by Hangman’s ego long ago.

“So, does anybody know what this special detachment is all about?” Payback asks, clearly trying to get some real answers.

Before anyone can respond, Hangman cuts in, his voice dripping with self-importance. “No, mission’s a mission. They don’t confront me.”

You roll your eyes, suppressing the urge to tell him off. Sometimes, you really wish someone would just knock some sense into him—preferably in the face.

“As if he can care about anything else that’s not himself,” you whisper to Rooster, your eyes flicking over to Hangman.

Rooster smirks, shaking his head. “What I’m curious about is who will be the team leader. And which one of y’all has what it takes to follow me?”

You laugh, snatching Rooster’s aviators off your face and slipping them on your hair. “Oh, I can already hear the news: ‘Team leader Hangman leaves everyone behind.’”

You lock eyes with Hangman, the challenge in your gaze clear as day. It's almost like a battle of wills, and you're not backing down. You can almost feel his ego swelling in response, but you don't care.

“Hangman, the only place you’ll lead anyone is an early grave,” you shoot back, your tone sharp, just the way you like it.

“Whoo!” Fanboy exclaims from behind you, taking a long sip of his beer. You hear Payback snicker as well. The tension in the air is thick, but the laughter around you makes it feel a little lighter.

Hangman narrows his eyes, clearly not expecting you to come back at him like that. He’s good at his job, sure, but you don’t need to make him feel like the center of the universe.

Hangman approaches with that trademark smirk of his, mischief flickering in his eyes like he knows something you don’t. It’s the same look he gets when he’s about to stir the pot, always looking for an opening to get under someone’s skin.

You can feel the tension in the air—he’s probably about to make some snide remark, something cocky or mocking. He’s good at that. Too good. And the worst part? He somehow always gets away with it. But not today. You’ve had enough of his games for one night.

"Well, anyone who follows you two is either gonna run out of fuel," Hangman says, his eyes locking on Rooster. "Or get themselves kicked off the team." He shifts his gaze to you, finishing with that same smug look you’ve come to expect.

You can feel your jaw tighten, but you don't let it show. It’s true—you’re not one for following rules to the letter. Rebel was your call sign for a reason. Your father used to say, “Sometimes, you need to stop thinking and just start doing.” You took that to heart, living it every day since. It’s what got you into trouble more than once, but it’s also what made you the fastest in your class.

Even Hangman had trouble keeping up with you when you were in the air. That’s something he doesn’t like to admit, but you know it’s true. You were the one to break the rules and come out on top.

Iceman told you once that you were just like your father. 

You really hope it’s not true.  

“But that’s just you, ain’t it, Rooster? You’re snug on that perch, waiting for just the right moment that never comes. At least she has more balls than you.”  

The room falls into a tense silence, Hangman’s words lingering in the air like a bad taste. Some of the aviators avert their gaze, staring down at the floor as if it might swallow them up. What the hell is his problem? You take a step forward, your jaw set, and lift your chin, locking eyes with him.

“Well, at least we’ve got people who actually want to follow us. Have you looked around? No one here would trust you as team leader,” you say, your tone cool and unflinching. Not even Coyote tries to back him up—he knows you’re spot on.

If looks could kill, you would probably be dead by now. He leans over you, his face so close that you can feel his breath on your cheek. Green eyes piercing your own. If this guy were a bit less of an asshole, you wouldn’t mind having something with him. But hell would freeze over before you’d willingly spend more than ten minutes in his company.

"I would never follow someone like you," he says again, his tone as condescending as ever.

"Funny, I don't remember asking for your opinion," you reply, stepping past him and swiping the pool cue out of his hands before handing it off to Bob.

Hangman just shrugs and makes his way over to Coyote. Phoenix moves in closer to you and Rooster, her eyes narrowing as she watches Hangman.

"Well, he hasn't changed," she mutters with a smirk.

“Nope,” Rooster adds, agreeing with Nat. “Sure hasn’t.” 

“You know, everyone’s entitled to act like an asshole once in a while, but he sure does abuse the privilege.” Phoenix’s laugh is a sharp, amused sound, and you can’t help but grin as Fanboy snickers beside you.

As the laughter fades, Phoenix crosses her arms, eyes scanning the new arrivals. "Look at them," she continues, voice dropping lower. "Some of the best pilots in the world."

Fanboy follows her gaze, nodding slowly as he takes a sip of his drink. "What the hell kind of mission is this?"

Phoenix doesn’t hesitate before replying, her eyes still locked on the door where the aviators continue to file in. "That’s not the question we should be asking. The question is... why are we here?" Her voice is full of quiet confidence. "Everyone in this room is the best there is."

You take a long breath, watching the others mingle. She’s right. These are the elite. Top-tier pilots with skills that are nearly impossible to match. Hell, even Hangman—despite his ego the size of a fighter jet—is one of them. And that’s the thing that nags at you. You know your own skillset—fast, unpredictable, and aggressive in the air. You’re good. Fast as hell, faster than most, but Hangman? He’s got aiming down to a science. The man can hit a target from miles away, practically at will.

So, if you’ve been brought here... to learn from them, or with them... what the hell kind of mission is this, really?

“Who the hell are they gonna bring to teach us?” Phoenix asks, and you know she’s been wondering the same thing you have. You’ve been trained by the best—hell, you are the best, in your own right. Who could possibly have more to offer you than what you’ve already learned?

And then, it hits you like a lightning strike.

“Oh shit,” you mutter under your breath, feeling a sudden wave of realization.

The person who’s going to teach you—the one who’s going to push you to the next level—isn’t some faceless instructor, isn’t some new face with more experience than you. No. The man who's going to be running this operation, the one who's going to make you push your limits...

It’s the same old man who’s standing at the bar, looking grumpy as he pays for your round of beers.

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell.

@xoxabs88xox

@pono-pura-vida

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

[streetsweepershenanigans]

Here Lies Iceman's Personal Space (An Icemav Fic)

Thank you so much to everyone who voted on my poll! I plan on hosting more polls in the future regarding fics, varying from what you'd like to see released next, to what genres of fics you'd be interested in seeing.

Cross posted on A03

 Maybe it was the close, cramped quarters they shared on the aircraft characters. Or perhaps it was the time spent in the enclosed cockpits of their aircraft. Either way, Pete "Maverick" had absolutely no concept of personal space. Ice made this discovery rather quickly. 

The first time Ice noticed Maverick’s lack of awareness of his proximity to others, the shorter man had slid up into the booth next to him and seemed to settle in quite comfortably, and, nearly on top of Ice. Maverick was in no way pressed up against him, but he was close enough that Ice could feel the heat radiating off of him from beside him. Lifting his beer to his lips, Ice shook his head affectionately; at least Maverick was on his left side leaving his right-hand free room enough to not elbow the other man as he drank. Maverick was beginning to grow on him, Ice almost couldn’t understand how he’d hated the other man before.  

Maverick tossed his head back and laughed at something Slider had said, his head falling to the side as his whole body followed coming to crash into Ice’s side. Ice could only watch as Maverick turned his face into his shoulder, still laughing. And when he’d finished, Maverick sat right back up as if nothing had happened. It was enough to perplex Ice. 

The second time that came to mind was the time they’d been out for a walk down the pier on a particularly nice Sunday afternoon. They had been walking side by side down the boarded walkway, Ice taking care to measure his steps so that the shorter man could keep up. Maverick himself was practically plastered to Ice’s side, their shoulders knocking against each other and elbows rubbing as they walked. Maverick had managed to catch the heel of Ice’s shoe multiple times with the toe of his own. Ice frowned as the heel of his shoe was once again pulled down by Maverick’s toe catching at his Achilles and causing Ice to stumble. 

“Mav!” Ice called out as he shuffled his shoe back on. 

“Sorry!” Maverick rushed to catch back up with him. 

“Listen,” Ice caught Maverick by the shoulder and lifted a finger to point at him, “flat-tire me one more time and you’re going overboard.” He stuck his thumb in the direction of the railing behind them and leveled him with a look of mock seriousness. Maverick’s smile only grew at the threat. He laughed and slipped up under the arm that Ice had been using to hold him back, winding his arm over and around Ice’s back and shoulder, practically hanging off of Ice with their height difference. Ice couldn’t help but lean down, trying to be considerate of Maverick’s smaller stature.  

The third time Ice had fallen victim to Maverick’s clinginess, so to speak, had been a quiet evening spent looking over the never-ending-ever-growing stack of paperwork Ice had brought home with him from the week spent teaching at TOPGUN. 

“What’s that?” Ice felt Maverick before he heard him. Maverick had draped himself over Ice’s back and was peering over his shoulder, their faces parallel with one another. Reaching around him like some mutant octopus, Maverick picked up the paper Ice had been going over. 

“Same soup, just reheated,” Ice pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. 

“Couldn’t this wait till Monday?” Maverick asked, breath warm against Ice’s cheek. 

“‘Fraid not,” Ice sighed again. Maverick only hummed and settled in against his cheek, prepared to stay there, leaning over Ice’s back for as long as it took him to get through his self-assigned homework. 

“Thought you were off to bed,” Ice stole a glance at Maverick from the corner of his eye. 

“Yeah well, bed’s conveniently empty.” Maverick wound his arms around Ice’s torso, hugging him from behind. “So, I have an excuse to stay up now. What do you want to do first?” 

“Finish this paperwork?” Ice raised a brow. Maverick’s only response was to turn his face into Ice’s neck and mutter something against his skin. “What?” Ice tried to look at the other man but it was as hopeless as trying to see your own face without a mirror. Maverick had all but melded with him. 

“I said,” Maverick pulled back enough to speak, “‘Nerd’”. With that, Maverick went back to his attempt at completing reverse mitosis between the two of them. 

All of these times and more led up to the point where Ice had finally given up and relinquished any form of personal space he’d had before meeting Maverick. Steam from the shower had settled heavily on the bathroom and Ice was basking in the hot spray. It wasn’t often he allowed himself these little pleasures, the hot water rolling off his shoulders and washing away the day's sweat and stress equally. 

Footsteps tramping down the hall alerted Ice to the fact that Maverick was home. Ice turned his attention back to the stream of water, closing his eyes again and drifting back off into the relaxed state he’d been in. Everything felt… calm, Ice decided. Like a warm summer’s afternoon rain. 

Ice had just reached over for his body wash when his quiet bubble of serenity was burst by the bathroom door abruptly opening and closing, blowing in a quick draft of cool air that chased away the steam.

“Hey Ice,” Maverick’s voice filtered over from the other side of the shower curtain, completely and totally nonchalant. Ice didn’t know quite how to respond to the abrupt interruption. “You will not believe the shit that-” Maverick started before Ice found his voice. 

“Maverick? I’m in the shower?” It came out as more of a question than he had meant it to. 

“Yeah, cool stuff. Anyway, so this little fucker-” Maverick continues and Ice can hear him moving around in the small space, opening and closing cabinet doors. Doing what? Ice has no clue. 

“Mav. I’m like, naked? In the shower. Bathing.” Ice doesn’t know how else to put it more bluntly than that. Wasn't showering supposed to be a private thing? 

“Well, I don’t know about showering in your clothes, but generally speaking, that’s how you take showers. Naked. Anyway,” And there Maverick goes, babbling on about his day and the little shithead, Common, Mav, that’s not nice, Ice supplies, still confused as the what exactly is happening. He’s showering and Maverick is in the bathroom too. Not in the shower with him, which Ice isn’t totally opposed to, but just on the other side of the curtain, fully dressed and conversing with him as if this was a totally normal space to talk about your day in. 

“Hey,” Maverick says after a quick second, “Ima be right back, don’t go anywhere.” 

Where would he go, Ice wants to ask. Instead, he simply leaves a tentative “Okay?” to hand in the air. Once again he is left in blissful peace and solitude as the bathroom door sweeps closed again. 

True to his word, and barely a minute and a half later, the door opens once again, the hinges reminding Ice that they need oil. 

“Here ya go,” Ice hears Maverick’s voice, and before he can react there is a hand holding a towel around the shower curtain and hanging it on the bar mounted to the wall. 

“Thank you?” Ice finishes rinsing the soap off his shoulders before cutting the water and reaching for the towel. The downy fabric is warm to the touch and Ice stops for a second. Had Maverick stuck a towel in the dryer for him? It’s… considerate. Way more so than Ice would’ve thought Maverick could be when he’d first met the cocky sonovabitch. Suddenly, Ice doesn’t mind the idiot on the other side of the shower curtain, now sitting on the closed toilet seat in the direction of his voice is anything to go off of. 

“So then this guy- you’ll never guess what he does next- this jack wagon absolutely-” Maverick’s voice carries through the bathroom as Ice pulls the shower curtain open with a soft smile, the warm towel tied snuggly around his hips. 

“No shit?” Ice asks, smile growing wider as Maverick nods before continuing on animatedly throwing his hands about. 

Ice doesn’t even stop to think as he puts his hand on Maverick’s shoulder and leans down giving him a quick peck on the lips. Of course, this only works to shut Maverick up for the duration of the time that Ice’s lips are on his, totaling to a second at most. The smile stays tugging at Ice’s lips as he leaves the bathroom and crosses over to their room, sifting through his drawer for a tee, the constant and comforting babble following him as Maverick does, and through it all, not once does Ice wish for silence, or privacy, or personal space. If any of those things were present, then surely Maverick would not be. And without Maverick, Ice doesn’t know where he’d be.

[marvelizehq]

★ congratulations  to  the following !  you have been accepted !

zane  phillips,  gay,  trans  man  +  he/him  →  attention  !  we  have  report  of  stuart  'stu'  storm-richards,  otherwise  known  as  mr.  invisible  has  been  spotted  within  the  area.  we  have  reason  to  believe  they  have  the  power  of  invisibility  +  force  field  generation.  they  are  known  to  be  intelligent  +  astute  but  also  can  be  stubborn  +  temperamental,  so  please  proceed  with  caution  when  approaching  them.  S.H.I.E.L.D.  has  reported  that  they’re  of  a  comics  variant,  so  be  warned  ! 

shawn  ashmore,  homosexual/homoromantic,  cismale  +  he/him  →  attention  !  we  have  report  of  bobby  drake,  otherwise  known  as  iceman  has  been  spotted  within  the  area.  we  have  reason  to  believe  they  have  the  power  of  cryokinesis,  water  manipulation,  and  organic  ice  form.  they  are  known  to  be  romantic  and  determined  but  also  can  be  self-isolating  and  anxious,  so  please  proceed  with  caution  when  approaching  them.  S.H.I.E.L.D.  has  reported  that  they’re  of  a  cinema  offshoot  with  comic  inspiration  variant,  so  be  warned  ! 

brett  goldstein,  panromantic  pansexual,  cis  male  +  he/him/his  →  attention  !  we  have  report  of  hercules  panhellenios,  otherwise  known  as  hercules,  has  been  spotted  within  the  area.  we  have  reason  to  believe  they  have  the  power  of  olympian  physiology,  cosmic  awareness,  and  master  combatant.  they  are  known  to  be  boisterous  &  loyal  but  also  can  be  cocky  &  reckless,  so  please  proceed  with  caution  when  approaching  them.  S.H.I.E.L.D.  has  reported  that  they’re  of  a  comics-leaning  variant,  so  be  warned  ! 

please look to the  after acceptances procedures and submit your blog in the next  48 hours    !

[positivelybeastly]

Silent Scream (bobby, wanna chance to yell at bobby Hank? if you're still doing this? c:)

"You see, your essential problem, Iceman, is that you are so incredibly, definitively, awe inspiringly stupid."

It's not an out of character line from the Director of X-Force, but considering the fact that they're within earshot of the world's best and brightest, within earshot of press and Avengers and celebrities, it is still - unexpected, to be sure. After the mess with the Terra Verdean delegation was sorted out, it appears, judging by the slight whiff of alcohol about him, that Beast has elected to avail himself of the bar.

Not that he needs alcohol to be unpleasant, of course, but it does help.

"And you see, it's always been that way. I would almost have to admire your commitment to the bit, if said bit wasn't one of the most irksome, unpleasant, and tiring performances I've ever seen in my entire life. Your ice form - not even your idea. That was Cyclops' suggestion, decades ago. Your ability to control both temperature and moisture - something that had to be pointed out to you by the Professor.

And, of course, the big one, the one that you had to have spelled out for you by our esteemed Marvel Girl. That must have been embarrassing for you. In fact, they all must have been just so very embarrassing for you. So obvious in hindsight, and yet you were completely blind, content to stumble on in your milquetoast mediocrity like a particularly uninspiring zombie until someone took you by the nose and forced you to think."

The Beast swirls his glass, a kind of animation in his eyes and voice and manner that's rare to see in him ever since he took on the task of protecting Krakoa from all who would harm it. He knocks back the whiskey before he all but discards the crystal glass on the nearest surface, only good, solid craftsmanship stopping it from shattering.

"Yet here you stand. Unashamed. Unashamed of your stupidity. Unashamed of the fact that everything special about you was gifted to you by either your genetics, or by someone else. None of it as a result of hard work, or application of self, or actual intelligence. Were it not for your luck to be a mutant, you would be living the kind of braindead, thoroughly unremarkable life that most of the human sheep are content to live.

I mean, accountancy? Really?"

His laugh is singularly cruel, singularly unpleasant, and Bobby might well be vaguely aware that Sage and Logan are slowly creeping a little closer, just in case the furry mutant takes another turn. But they needn't worry.

He's nearly done.

"Some of us are content to be led to what is great about us, Iceman. Others seize it. Others embrace it. Others . . ."

He brings up his massive blue hands and puts them on Bobby's shoulders, his fingers twitching like he wants to wrap them around his throat, and off in the distance, Scott, Warren and Jean all tense.

"Others wake up on their own, without having to be told. I can't believe I ever let you hold me back. Every moment I ever spent with you was a waste of time, and this is all you'll ever get from me, ever again."

He pushes Bobby away, turns on his heel, and leaves, intent on stalking back to his habitat alone.

One less distraction, now.

[uwmspeccoll]

It’s Fine Press Friday!

Death of a Salesman: Certain Private Conversations in two Acts and a Requiem, a tragedy by American playwright, screenwriter, and essayist Arthur Miller (1915-2005) is here published, with five etchings by American graphic artist, Leonard Baskin (1922-2000), by the Limited Editions Club (LEC) in a limited edition of 1500 copies signed by the playwright and the artist in 1984. 

The play, Death of a Salesman, first opened on February 10, 1949. It was incredibly popular, and is considered by some critics to be one of the best American plays. It has since been revived on Broadway five times and adapted to film ten times, and has won numerous awards. Salesman is a fine example of one of Arthur Miller’s dominant themes,the importance of the father-son relationship. It is somewhat inspired by Miller's short time working for his father. His biographer wrote:

Arthur particularly loathed the vulgarity and aggressiveness of the buyers, who treated his father and the salesmen with arrogant contempt, and he became acutely aware of the meaning of self-respect when he saw how cruelly it was abused.

The play is about the unrealistic expectations we have for ourselves and others, expectations that cause us to lose sight of what really matters even to the point of falling out of touch with reality. In this case it is the expectations a father has for his children. 

This edition marks Leonard Baskin’s third time illustrating for the Limited Editions Club. Other tiles he has worked on include, Eugene O'Neill’s The Iceman Cometh, 1982 and Aristotle’s Poetics & Politics, 1964, both of which we may feature at a later date.. The striking etched portraits are very characteristic of Baskin’s work. Baskin often works in themes of death. His etchings richly portray the mental degradation that the main character, Willy Loman, suffers from. 

This book was designed by book designer Benjamin Shiff, son of LEC owner Sydney Shiff. He selected American and English Monotype Bulmer fonts, which were set in type by Dan Carr and Julia Ferrarie at Golgonooza Letter Foundry. The text was printed at the Wild Carrot Letterpress by Daniel Keleher and the etchings were printed at The Heron Press by Bruce Chandler. The paper was made by Cartiere Enrico Magnani and the book was bound by Gray Parrot Incorporated. Our copy was a gift from our friend Jerry Buff. 

View more Limited Edition Club posts.

View more Fine Press Friday posts.

– Teddy, Special Collections Graduate Intern

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Hello, I really enjoy your bungo self aware series. It has really helped me cope with everything. I was not sure where to put it and I was afraid to request. Because I sent one in your messages. About the port mafia flags taking care of the reader that experiences painful flashbacks from ptsd. To the point where it's hard for them to function with basic things. And goes into their head that they could've done this or that to prevent further harm and scrutiny.

Few words

Self-Aware! Platonic! Flags x Fem! Teen! Reader

Description: Few words made your mind wonder. Flags are here to make sure, that you are fine.

Warning: English is my second language. Mentions of abuse and scumming.

_______

You have been feeling groggy since morning. While, you don't have nightmares that night, the dream you had was unpleasant. It worsens your mood quite a bit. You tried to keep a smile on your face, but others quickly saw through your efforts.

The moment you sat down at the dinner table, Chuuya put a plate with double portion of a breakfast, Albatross was telling jokes, while driving you and BSD Teens and Kids at school, and during lunch break, Teruko was telling stories about Hunting Dogs missions, that you liked so much.

You could swear, that you started feeling better. You were sure, that at the evening you won't feel the shroud of morning sadness.

Well, as Fyodor liked to say "Не говори гоп, пока не перепрыгнешь"(1)

_______________

Today you supposed to go home early. Your class won a competition, and, as reward, you got a short day. Just few minutes before you can go home. Just last few encouraging words from your teacher.

"I never doubted you. After all, students from our school supposed to be perfect!" smile on their face was genuine. They believed, in what they were saying.

"Enjoy your weekends, kids! And, don't tell anyone, that I let you go earlier. It will be our little secret."

Your classmates started to pack their bags. You, on the other hand, froze.

'supposed to be perfect' 'don't tell anyone' 'little secret'

...this word...

"[Y/N], are you okay?" Karma looked concerned. "You have been staring before you, hardly blinking."

You nodded, and quickly put textbooks in your bag.

"We... we should go."

You mumble. You want to go home. You need to focus on going home. On today.

You, Karma and the rest of your housemates/friends/siblings leave the school.

You, Karma and the rest of your housemates/friends/siblings get into the van, saying 'hello' to Albatross, who was driving today.

You tried to focus on current moment.

But 'supposed to be perfect' and 'don't tell anyone' echoed in your head.

And you were silent all the way home.

______________________

Albatross can't help, but sneaking glances at you in the back view mirror.

You were quiet. Your gaze was dull. You looked tense. You looked much worse, than you looked in the morning.

And Albatross knew, what was going on with you.

He and others should prepare.

He managed to send a message to the rest of the Flags, when van got in a small traffic jam.

Today you will need them.

And you will need to be reminded, that you are safe.

And that you are loved.

He and the rest of BSD Cast loved you. You were their daughter/granddaughter/niece/sister.

He and the rest of BSD Cast were neutral about other people.

He and the rest of BSD Cast despised that creatures, that did that to you.

______________________

When you came home, you ignored others and immediately get into your room. You wanted to lay down, to spend some time alone.

Until that annoying echoes of 'supposed to be perfect' and 'don't tell anyone' stop ringing in your ears.

Meanwhile, Flags was preparing. They brought everything they need and were waiting outside your room.

They value your privacy. Sometimes, you need just some solitude and silence.

But they can't let you be always alone. When you were like this, you tend to ignore yourself. Skipped breakfast, lunches, do half job in brushing your hair or teeth. You need people, who took care of you and supports you.

Doing the job, that they failed to do. Who willingly choose to abandon their work.

And, while you have your doubts, you were s strong person. Flags knew that.

But, even strongest people need help. Need love. Need cheering up.

But, for now, they will wait.

____________

You didn't get any sleep.

Your head hurts.

Your hair was a mess.

You slowly stand up from the bed. On stiff legs, you approached your dressing table. You plopped on the chair before it.

You grab hairbrush.

And looked in a mirror.

Messed up hair. Bags under eyes.

And yells of 'You were supposed to be perfect! Why can't you be a normal child?! Why are you so terrible?! Useless! Helpless!'

Your grip on the hairbrush was too strong, your knuckles became white.

sounds of hits rang in your ears

'You were supposed to braid your hair! It is not a braid!'

your scalp was on fire. with every tug of your hair, pain became stronger and stronger. they don't care, that you didn't know, how to do it. you were supposed to be perfect. perfection supped to knew everything without people teaching them 'how'. perfection supposed to know better and not believe scammers. only perfect thing you can do was staying silent and not telling anyone about your home life. or you would face consequences.

You sobbed. And that sob let you return to reality.

You felt, that you weren't alone in the room.

But you can't focus on that someone.

You felt, like you were surrounded by a thick, hard as stone darkness. You tried to focus on something else. On a carpet under your feet, on a chair you were sitting on, on the air, that was surrounding you. On anything, that will freeze you, let you stay there, and not let your mind flow further down the memory river.

Yet, you can't focus on anything. It was hard. Extremely hard. But you tried again and again.

Something warm touched your hands, making you let go of the brush. Warm hands gave your palms another soft squeeze. After this soft gesture, the darkness moved back. Someone started making circling motions with his thumb, giving your hands a little massage. With every circle, darkness creeps away from you.

You finally could focus on the person, who was holding your hands. The sight of the familiar warm smile on Lippmann's face makes darkness moved back again.

"There, Dear, everything is fine. You are safe." Lippmann's voice was soft and warm. "Nothing bad will happen to you."

You continue staring at your hands, while Lippmann squeezed them again.

"You are safe. No one will ever hurt you." His words make you felt like you were covered with a warm blanket. Another pair of hands was put on the top of your head, and fingers started to go through your hair, untangling knots. Pianoman whispered, while gently untangling the knots.

"Let us take care of you, dear. Don't worry about anything, young lady."

You stay silent. You don't know what to say.

You saw Doc with the corner of your eye. He was pouring water from the bottle in a cup.

Soon, he stands next to Lippmann, holding a cup towards you. There was a straw in the cup.

"Here, drink this, [Y/N]" Doc's eyes were warm and full of concern.

You started to drink through the straw

Lippmann's hands were still squeezing yours.

Pianoman, who picked up the hairbrush from the floor, was now brushing your hair.

Doc was still holding the cup with one hand. He put a second hand on your shoulder.

"Here. Here. Don't rush. Small sips. Good. You are doing great. Now, breath in. Hold it. Breathe out. In. Hold it. Out. In. Hold. Out. You are doing great. You are doing great."

Water was drunken. Your breathing calmed down. You felt empty, but, at least, nothing was howling in your head and darkness wasn't circling around you.

The door of the ensuite bathroom opened. Iceman and Albatross stepped into the room.

"Bath is ready, [Y/N]. Do you want to take it now?"

You slowly nodded. Iceman asked the next question.

"Need help?" You shook your head. You were sure, that you can take a bath on your own.

Flags quickly left the room, giving you privacy. You took a change of clothes and went to the bathroom.

___________

Scented oils in the warm water, bubbles, a cup of your favorite beverage did a good job in making tension go away. You just focused on the scent and warmth, not thinking about anything.

After you finished with your bath, you put on your pajamas, a fluffy bathrobe, that Albatross put there earlier, put a towel over your wet hair, and return to your room.

__________

Flags wasn't done with taking care of you yet.

You were sitting on Iceman's lap with your legs in a big bowl full of warm water. Doc was kneeling before you, giving you a foot massage.

Lippmann and Pianoman were sitting on the floor, on the left from Doc, while Albatross was sitting on his right.

The room was silent. Until Albatross spoke.

"Hey, [Y/N], want to hear about the dream I had?" He waited until you nodded, and continue. "Let me tell you, I had a crazy dream last night! I was swimming in an ocean of orange soda!"

Albatross sighed, before grinning.

"Do bad, that it was just a Fanta sea."

You quietly huffed. You don't know if it was a good pun, or so bad it's good pun. Albatross continues.

"Also, earlier today, some aquatic mammals at the zoo escaped! It was otter chaos!"

You giggled. A small smile appeared on your face. Albatross, encouraged, continue telling you puns.

At the end, you and Albatross were laughing. When you two calmed down, you felt courage, that you need to speak.

"I... I am sorry for being a mess today. I am sorry for making you took care of me. I just... I just want someone to care..." You bit your lip. "If only I spoke sooner... You won't get such a mess that I am. I won't be a burden."

You didn't have a chance to react, before you got in a middle of a group hug.

"Don't apologize. You didn't do anything wrong. You are our dear niece. You are our family. You aren't a burden." Pianoman carefully pat your head.

"Don't be ashamed of your emotions. They are valid. You deserve to be heard. You deserve to be loved." Doc squeeze your right shoulder.

"Came to us even with the smallest things to ask for. We will take care of you." Albatross squeezed your right hand.

"We will move forward together. We will take as many small steps as you need and want. You won't be alone. You will never be on your own." Lippmann squeezed your left shoulder.

"You have power. You can choose. We will support you." Iceman carefully squeezed your left hand.

"We love you, our dear niece."

_______

You went to sleep with happy tears on your cheeks. You asked, and they listened. Flags stayed in your room. To make sure, that you don't have nightmares.

No matter what awaits their family, Flags were sure in one thing.

________

All of them will be here for you.

(1)Rus. Idiom. Similar meaning to "don't halloo till you are out of the woods"

(2) Puns were found there

[wordsonamission]

New fic alert!

Ice has worked hard to keep his sexuality under wraps. He can't risk rumors that might get him dishonorably discharged. But then Maverick flirts with him at the Officer's Club, and Iceman is tempted to give in. He's fascinated by the spirited aviator and just might risk it all by taking him up on the offer. Maverick, as usual, is happy to take the lead and push Ice into letting go.

I had a lot of fun with the idea for this fic, though it took me a while to get the scenes to flow right. Ice is deeply aware of the risk that his sexuality poses for his career aspirations, so he is very careful to avoid situations where someone might figure out that he's not the straight man that he pretends to be. Maverick is much less careful, as bold and brash in his interpersonal dealings as he is when flying. He makes a pass at Ice and Ice rebuffs him.

But Goose, who knows about Ice's true feelings (and the sincerity of Maverick's) and has known about Ice's sexuality since their Academy days, has a talk with Ice to sort things out. Goose reminds Ice that he's known about the sexual assault that Ice endured during their first year and has never used that knowledge against him. It's still a risk, but Ice is more receptive to Maverick's approach the second time around. Maybe it's time for Ice to really trust the men around him with his true self, as a friend and as a lover.

I can't wait to hear what you think!

[rabbitcruiser]

National Piercing Day

Celebrated yearly on May 16, National Piercing Day is a fun observance that focuses on the art of piercings and its intriguing history. Are you a fan of body piercings? Maybe reading more about the day will convince you to get another one!

History of National Piercing Day

The art of piercings has existed for centuries and was not always used as a fashion statement. In fact, piercings have a different meaning for people belonging to varying cultures across the globe. This is why National Piercing Day was formed — to bring the history and importance of piercings to the forefront, as well as to spread awareness regarding the numerous forms and styles of body piercings across different cultural traditions.

For example, piercings were an essential part of the Native American religion where the act was performed during the Sun Dance ceremony to encourage powerful spiritual visions. Piercings are also said to have Ayurvedic benefits and were often done to cure ailments.

It is believed that National Piercing Day originated in 2007 when a group of individuals with an interest in body piercings joined forces and declared May 16 a day where the art of piercing is to be celebrated. While the day is still not officially recognized, it is gaining popularity yearly and is celebrated by piercing lovers across the U.S. Apart from promoting the cultural value of piercings and the history attached to the practice, National Piercing Day also celebrates piercing as an art form in today’s time and the essence of it as a medium of self-expression. Numerous piercing stores and boutiques around the country also offer discounts to customers on this day.

National Piercing Day timeline

3300 B.C. Pierced Iceman

The ears of Ötzi, a natural mummy found in the Austro-Italian Alps, are pierced 7–11 mm in diameter.

49–44 B.C. Do as the Romans Do

Julius Caesar brings piercings into fashion.

16th century The Elizabethan Era

A single ear piercing is seen as a sign of wealth and nobility.

1960s and 1970s The Nonconformists

Nose piercings become a part of the punk movement in the West.

National Piercing Day FAQs

What is the most popular body piercing?

The list includes ear-, nose-, and belly-button piercings.

What is the safest piercing to do yourself?

Earlobes are the safest area for piercing.

Can an 18-year-old sign off for a piercing?

Yes, but no one under 18 can be pierced without the consent of a legal guardian.

How to Celebrate National Piercing Day

Get a piercing

Read up on piercings in different cultures

Promote safe piercing

There’s no better way to celebrate the day than by getting a new piercing. Lucky for you, numerous piercing stores offer discounts on May 16!

There’s so much more to the art of piercing than we are aware of. Why not dedicate the day to finding out more about different piercing styles and stories from various cultures across the globe?

Make flyers regarding piercing safety and distribute them around your town. Numerous young people get unsafe piercings, therefore it is essential to educate them.

5 Interesting Facts You Didn’t Know About Piercings

The Guinness record for piercings

The Masai from Kenya

Earlobe piercing is common

It can cause infection

Piercing complications

Elaine Davidson has 9,000 piercings.

Adults from the tribe have lower lip piercings that are more than 6 inches big.

80% of American women have pierced ears.

Lip and tongue piercings can cause oral infections including gum disease.

A 1998 study revealed that 35% of piercings have complications.

Why We Love Piercings

We can adorn our bodies

They are trendy

Its an expression of body art

Piercings give us an opportunity to decorate our bodies with different accessories. In fact, a simple outfit can be uplifted by wearing the right earrings.

If done in the right places, piercings can be super fashionable and can add an edginess to your overall appearance.

For many people, piercings are a form of self-expression and art. Different areas of the body are pierced to showcase people’s individuality.

Source

[lannisterdaddyissues]

For the otp ask thing

3, 9, 16 and 31 with slimav :)

AHHHHHH SLIMAV MY BELOVED YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW VALIDATING IT WAS TO RECEIVE THIS ASK BESTIE THANK UUUUU 🥹🙏🧎‍♀️

anyway im. im so sorry this is 2 months late things got out of hand but here i am delivering the slimav goodies now <3

3. Who hogs the cover / Who loves to cuddle? who hogs the cover: oh sli 100%. he runs hot so he really doesn’t even need them, and instead of using them to keep warm they just end up in a tangled heap on the floor next to him LOL. as a result mav usually ends up sticking to him like glue at some point in the middle of the night to soak up his body heat bc even if he was aware enough to steal back the blanket in the middle of the night, he would never win against sli’s 6’5” ass 😔 who loves to cuddle: um both of them next question. have u SEEN them they are literally the teddy bearest of all teddy bears. thank u for an actually serious answer tho they both love to cuddle!!! 🥹 they just have one of those perfect size differences where it doesn’t make sense NOT to cuddle when they fit perfectly together yknow… they take up less space that way and they get to cuddle so its a win-win! 🥺 they’re also both super tactile bc mav is most definitely touch starved and sli is obv very touchy feely with his friends, like him hugging ice and giving him a friendly wiggle at the graduation lives rent free in my head forever that shit was so FUCKING cute ok

9. Who makes the coffee (or tea)? mav! he’s an early bird, there’s almost always a full cup already waiting for sli by the time he makes it to the kitchen because he takes so long in the bathroom in the mornings (no he’s not shitting 💀 he just has to shower and shave because mans grows hair like no tomorrow and he stinks)

funnily enough, mav actually never drank coffee before coming to topgun, but now that he is constantly plagued by the horrors a cup of coffee does wonders for him throughout the day. however he is not allowed to have more than one cup per day or there will be consequences per the wrath of one iceman kazansky

16. Who is scared of thunderstorms? i don’t think either of them are scared of thunderstorms per se, but sometimes when mav dreams about hop 31 the nightmares fuck him up pretty bad… he’s flown through a lot worse though.

also i personally think the fandom hc that mav is afraid of ghosts is infinitely funnier bc he would be so ridiculous about it 😭 (also slider is afraid of clowns you can’t change my mind on this)

31. Who is more affectionate? ice: you guys its not a competition slider & mav, aggressively cuddling on the couch: YES IT IS!!!!!!!!!!!!

but if id have to say its gonna be slider bc that man is such a fucking teddy bear he has no shame or self-consciousness when it comes to being a sucker for mav both in public and in private meanwhile mav is more shy and reserved so hes most affectionate in private :’)

[cypress-punk]

There should be a Spider-Man show that's entirely about early career Peter Parker going through his usual struggles as Spider-Man but also very focused on messy teen romance drama he gets into with all the people he's usually shipped with, Gwen Stacy, Mary Jane Watson, Black Cat, Human Torch, Kitty Pryde, Iceman, etc. Just a terrible bisexual mess. Then as contrast we introduce Miles Morales midway through the season as a second Spider-Man and Miles just has a much easier times with things because he's essentially less of a hopeless romantic/horn dog. And he's always giving Pete shit for his antics.

Importantly most of this romantic drama should be self inflicted on Peter's part. He can't help himself but be smitten with all these people and is always trying to flirt but is just awful at balancing multiple crushes and relationships especially since some of them are only aware of the Peter Parker identity and some of them are only aware of the Spider-Man identity.

This is mostly played for slapstick as his relationship drama comes back to bite him in various ways. Kitty finds out he's also flirting with Iceman and Collossus gets so mad at him for breaking her heart that he literally throws him out of the Xavier Institute. He has some kind of kerfuffle with Johnny Storm and later when Peter is fighting some villain and needs help Johnny rolls up and just kinda pouts at him from the sky while he's getting his ass beat. Gwen gets spider powers and ends up joining him and Miles as crime fighters, Peter tries to rekindle their relationship but shes just totally moved on and this puts him in funk cause hes extremely not moved on. Mary Jane finds out he's bisexual and asks if he's into Flash and this causes Peter to have a psychological spiral as he realizes he IS into Flash despite hating the guy. Venom constantly teases him about his various failed romances. Just roasts him mercilessly. Ben Grimm finds out he's dating Johnny and takes him aside to give him one of those fatherly "don't break my kid's heart" talks but also ends with "and if Johnny breaks your heart let me know, I'll clobber him for ya". J. Jonah Jameson has to cut back on running Spider-Man stories because he's turning the Daily Bugle into a celebrity relationship gossip rag by accident. Peter accidentally ruins at least one relationship by selling JJ a roll of film he forgot had photos of him macking on someone. Harry Osborne has genuine feelings for Peter but is somehow the only person Peter doesn't show any romantic interest in. Norman Osborne tries to give Pete a talk about safe sex on Aunt May's behalf and its exceedingly awkward for the obvious reasons and because Peter found confirmation that Norman is the Green Goblin moments before. Black Cat insists it isn't cheating so long as he never takes off his mask. You know. The works.