#august maverick

[carousel-crows]

i would write more icemav, but it's finals week, so here are some headcanons:

ice gives the best hugs. slider basically taught him how to hug, and since slider is the resident teddy bear, ice is a master

mav definitely doesn't mind this after he accepts that he's touchstarved

chipper, hollywood, wolfman, and merlin specifically make sure that mav eats vegetables when ice and slider are away

speaking of food, ice's slavic background (specifically russian and polish) is often very helpful when showing pete his past. He sticks to kosher (he's jewish), and shows mav pierogi. 

Mav absolutely loves home cooked meals. He got taste of all sorts of cultures and religion while in the system, and there were a few recipes he took with him, but there isn't anyone to teach him to cook. 

ice and mav take bradley on outings all the time. the zoo, the park, carnivals and cinemas. Carole loves that they spend time with him, and she loves that it gives her time to still have friends and time to herself.

tom gives forehead, hand, and nose kisses. Pete gives cheek, shoulder, and chest kisses. 

they started out as angry hookups to "blow off steam", but they very quickly realized that they were a lot more complicated than that. it took them way too long to confess, but they grew softer and sweeter much sooner than their peers had expected

that's all i got tonight, folks, but i hope you enjoyed it. if you have any headcanons to share/expand on, feel free to send an ask or dm me!

[marisatomay]

The girls today don’t know that back in August 2015 Glen Powell made a whole on-the-grid instagram post wishing the movie character Maverick from Top Gun a happy birthday

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

dear august (bradley bradshaw pt. 4)

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five

Summary: You and Bradley have been best friends since college and when he was stationed in North Island, you were thrilled that he would be back in your life. When things start to sour with Bradley’s girlfriend and she breaks things off, Bradley comes to you for drunken comfort. What happens when an accidental hookup brings along an unexpected positive pregnancy test threatens the state of your friendship?

Tropes: friends to lovers, unexpected pregnancy, unrequited feelings

Word Count: 1500

Over the next days, you were able to stay distracted as you finished up the school year. Filling your days with snotty little shits and final projects, it was an easy way to keep your mind from the lack of texts from your best friend. Your best friend of which, you’d slept with in a drunken stupor after his girlfriend had broken up with him.

You hadn’t heard much from Bradley in the days after you slept together other than invitations to join the group at the Hard Deck after the school day ended. You were too concerned by what that meant, to return to the place when you two had fallen into each other’s arms and so you stayed away. He didn’t come looking for you, didn’t show up in the parking lot to drag you to join him so you’d figured it was a simmering effect.

He was, however, scheduled to come in on the last day of the school year to deliver some ice cream on behalf of the Navy and read a few stories but when you glanced up at the knock on the classroom door only to find Bob smiling sheepishly, you figured that something was wrong. Bob read and scooped out ice cream with you while he shared what had occurred for Bradley’s disappearance.

“He wanted to come,” Bob tries to share between scoops of ice cream and spurts of whipped cream for each kid. “Got stuck doing some extra maintenance on his plane ahead of our mission next week.”

“Mission next week?” you asked, eyes flittering up from your position of sprinkles duty. A frown fixated on your lips as you took in the information. You hadn’t heard about any mission, not from Jake or Bradley for that matter. And Jake had been keeping you company after everything that had happened.

“It’s a short two month stint,” Bob drops the scooper into the water and wipes his hands on his khakis. “Rooster didn’t tell you?”

“No…”

“I’m sure he was planning to,” Bob offers, glancing over at the giggling kids lost in their own world. What it must feel like to be them again, careless and without understanding of the world yet. “Why don’t you come with me to the Hard Deck after for our bonfire. I’m sure Bradley would love to see you.”

You weren’t sure you felt entirely welcomed or that Bradley would want you there after the radio silence on his part, but you went regardless. Wrapped up in a denim jacket and floral dress, you looked beautiful as you final roll up to the lot. Tugging your jacket closer to yourself, you grab the beach blanket from the back of your car and making your way over to where your friends were setting up the large pile of wood along the skirts of sand.

            “Dukes,” Jake shouts, looking up with a wide grin when he sees you crossing the spans of the beach. You smile back, moving more quickly as he pulls you into his arms tightly. “How was last day?” he asks as he places you back onto the pale sands and tugging you the rest of the way to the bonfire.

            “It was great Jakey,” you share, eyes locking with Bradley’s as he looks up from dropping another bundle down onto the pit. “Bob came for the ice cream social. Heard about this big mission coming up…” you trailed off, glancing back at Jake as Bradley adjusted his sunglasses atop his head and starting to move toward you.

            “Oh Dukes, I’m not…”

            “Dais, what are you doing here?” Bradley’s voice rasps as he finally makes it to where you are standing. Your shoulders sink slightly, a twisted look crossing your features.

            “Bob invited me,” you share, arm staying snug around Jake’s waist as you clear your throat, “After the Ice Cream Social today.” Bradley’s face falls at your words and you feel vindicated somehow. How was he going to ask what you were doing here after all this time? After the time that you spent getting to know each other’s bodies in a drunken haze? Like you were long lost strangers.

            “I’m,” he wipes a hand over his face and sighs, “I’m so sorry for that. I got caught up with my jet ahead of this thing and-,”

            “Yeah, Bob told me about that,” you nod, feeling suddenly exposed out on the beach in front of someone you’d known your whole life. “You two must’ve let it slip your minds.” Jake’s fingertips brush along your hipbone in comfort.

            “I won’t be on that mission actually Dukes,” Jake murmurs, “Just Rooster here.” You turn back to Rooster at Jake’s words and nod slightly. He stares back at you, an unreadable look on his face as his mouth lines tightly. You don’t end up spending most of the evening with Rooster, sticking to Jake’s side while laughing and taking sips of beer with Phoenix.

            “He’s been totally a mess since the two of them broke up, you know,” Nat shares as you both stare across the fire at Bradley playing football along the lapping waves of water with Fanboy.

            “I wouldn’t know,” you reply, taking another sip again of your beer as you settle down further into the sand, sliding your foot through the grains and then scooping it up with your toes. “It’s not like he’s even messaged me since we-,” you stop yourself, scoffing before placing your bottle down onto the ground. “Whatever.”

            “It’s not whatever,” Nat shakes her head, her hand coming up to wrap around your shoulder. “He’s just being an idiot right now.” You nod slowly, watching your best friend laughing and joking around as the sun starts to set in the distance. At some point, you grow tired both from the long day of keeping the kids at bay until Summer arrived and of Bradley ignoring your existence.

            Jake, at some point during the evening, had settled down beside you and had been humming along to the country music blaring from the radio. “I think I’m going to get going,” you told Jake lightly, placing your tempt along his shoulder as a yawn rolled through you.

            “Oh, come on,” Jake grumbles as you stretch and stand. “Stay a little longer.” Across the way, you catch eyes with Bradley and stand slowly.

            “Have a good night, everyone,” you call, hugging Nat, Bob and then Jake before catching eyes with Bradley one last time. He does nothing to rise up and say goodbye, so you nod and turn to head back to your car. You’re just at the steps to the parking lot when you hear a deep voice behind you.

            “Need a ride?” you turn around, staring down at your best friend for the top step. It’s the first time in a long time that you feel like you can look at him. His hair is tousled, perfect blond under the bright parking lot lights. Fuck him for looking so good. He’s pouting, his full lips flush under his mustache. “Please? I feel like I barely got a chance to catch up.”

            “And whose fault is that?” you sass, eyebrow raised as you roll your eyes. Your hip rests against the railing of the stairs as he climbs them to meet you. Bradley holds his hands up in defeat.

            “It’s fully mine,” he stifles a laugh and glances down at his feet. “But lemme make it up to you, please?”

            You take a slow breath, wrapping your arms around your elbows and pursing your lips. “Fine.” The ride home is quiet, peaceful. It’s something you haven’t felt in quite a few weeks, finally happy to feel a bit normal with Bradley again. You make small talk together, talking about each other’s days while he pulls up to the front of your house.

            “Well, thank you for the ride,” you say in the quiet of the bronco as he pulls to a stop. You unbuckle your seatbelt slowly before grabbing your purse and pulling the door open. “Stay safe on your trip alright?” you lean over and press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

            “Goodnight, Dais,” he murmurs and watches as you leave.

            It’s only three weeks later he leaves for his secret mission that you start to get sick. Your stomach turns at the slightest thing…a waft of salty sea through the windows of the Hard Deck while you’re having lunch with Penny or fried Haddock while going to dinner with Jake one night on the pier. At the drop of a dime, you lose your lunch and empty the contents of your stomach into the closest bin.

            “I’m worried about you,” Jake mumbles, rubbing your back on one early morning as you lose your breakfast from the smell of cooked eggs. “Should we go to the ER?” An eery thought washes through you, the sudden realization of a horror.

            “Jake…I think we might need to run to the closest CVS,” you mumble, whipping your mouth and leaning back against the wall. “I think I need to buy a pregnancy test.”

Taglist:

@briseisgone

@emma8895eb

@rachkon

@senjoritanana

@shanimallina87

@luckyladycreator2

@ceilingfann

@rosiahills22

@child-of-sunshine

@callsign-scully

@hopefulinlove

@cevans-winchester

@double-j

@blue-aconite

@callsign-hummingbird

@romanoff13-blog-BLOG

@rosiahills22

@kajjaka

@sylviaes99

@chaoticassidy

@child-of-of-the-sunshine

@memoriesat30

@seresinsweetie

@genius2050

@shanimallina87

@abaker74

@comfortzonequeen

@arctic-writes

@itsmeimback

@loving-and-dreaming

@mavrellover91

@avengers-fixation

@kmc1989

@mavrellover91

@vabeachazn

comfortzonequeen

[libraryofantiquitea]

𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲.

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. you and jake "hangman" seresin begin casually dating while he's training for a top secret mission at miramar. both of you are content on simply fooling around until he leaves, but the more time that you spend together, the more it becomes apparent that his departure will be difficult for you both.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. explicit, minors do not interact! warnings across all parts in the series include: dirty talk, face sitting, grinding, groping, hand jobs, oral sex (both f + m receiving), vaginal fingering, and unprotected p in v sex.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭. 14.9k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. this series contains the first fic i ever wrote for the top gun fandom! special thanks to @wildbornsiren for the betas, for bringing me into the tgm fandom, and the rest of the creator coven for their support.

these fics are little more than a vessel for some smut with some plot that accidentally happened. the first three parts have already been completed, with the final two hopefully coming soon!

◊ - angst | △ - smut | ♡ - fluff

‟ pt. i | tell me my name △ ↳ you and jake go out for a drink after meeting at the hard deck the night before. you aren’t at the bar for long.

‟pt. ii | tokyo summer ◊△ ↳ you and jake go out on a second date. it ends as well as the first.

‟ pt. iii | whiskey mouth ◊△ ↳ jake visits you at the gallery where you work after he’s done training for the day. it becomes very apparent that you’ve both caught feelings.

‟ pt. iv | cassiopeia [coming soon] ‟ pt. v | letters from the sky [coming soon]

[ever-changing-fandom-bomb]

I bring more and one of them a a full on mashup hope you guys like it

[compacflt]

wip wednesday: ice & mav figuring some stuff out

[jungle-angel]

Take your Shot

Summary: Natasha does something for her nephew/godson that eventually finds its way back to Bob and (Y/n)

Tagging: @dancer73333​  babes, it’s finally here!!!! I promised I’d deliver and here it is!!!! (lol)

Natasha waited at the bar, adjusting the cheater glasses that rested on her nose, still in disbelief at the stripe of grey that was along the side of her head, almost like a streak of lightning. The Hard Deck was as busy as ever, the jukebox going in the corner and patrons dancing, playing pool and chattering away with one another as she messaged Cole, her now husband of twenty seven years and the recipient of not one, not two, but three silver stars. 

The doors opened and in walked August, her godson and nephew, the spitting image of Bob as the jukebox began playing Otis Redding’s “Tramp” as he walked in wearing his Navy khakis, silently mouthing the words. 

“You’re late,” Nat chuckled, placing her hands on her skinny hips. 

“A pilot’s never late Aunt Tasha,” Auggie chuckled. “I think everybody else is just early.” 

Phoenix caught him in a tight hug. It had felt like yesterday, Auggie was just a tiny little baby all nested in his incubator, his head fitting perfectly in the palm of his father, grandfather and uncles’ hands, his tiny little form snuggled into Bob’s chest. Now Auggie had graduated Top Gun, just like his father, a pilot in his own right along with Natasha and Cole’s son Gabe, who had become Auggie’s front-seater. 

“So where are you and Mister Potato Head going for deployment?” Nat asked him as they both sat at the bar. 

“Heading for Hawaii,” Auggie said cheerfully. “USS John Paul Jones.” 

“I see, I see,” Nat responded knowingly. “Is Kaiulani still out that way?” 

“Yeah, we FaceTimed the other night,” Auggie answered. “Her brother, Junior’s getting ready to do Cobra Gold in Thailand.” 

“Well,” Natasha said. “I’m proud of you Tater Tot. I feel bad we can’t do much to celebrate but....” 

“C’mon Aunt Tasha,” Auggie said. “I’d be just as happy with a bonfire and a mason jar full of Papa’s moonshine.”

Natasha laughed before she ordered a round of tequila, the bartender surprising Auggie with a small cupcake, the candle already lit and the vanilla frosting covered in red, white and blue sprinkles. 

“Happy Birthday Tater Tot,” she chuckled. 

Auggie laughed as he blew out the candle and did his first shot with his aunt. 

********************

Bob lay asleep, snoring away in the hammock with you by his side, listening to the roar of the ocean, when his phone on the splintering deck table suddenly lit up and began vibrating. 

“Babe?” you mumbled. 

“I’ve got it,” he yawned. 

Bob pawed the table for his glasses and looked at the screen, a single text message from Phoenix splayed across the screen along with something else. 

Look what your son just did...... 

Bob opened the message which took him straight to a video of Auggie and a bunch of other sailors, pilots and servicemen all gathered around a piano where Auggie had begun to jam out “Great Balls of Fire”, playing and singing just like his Uncle Rooster. 

“Everything ok?” you asked sleepily, kissing your husband’s chest. 

“Somebody once posed the question, ‘what do you do with a bunch of drunken sailors?’“ Bob said. “I think our son just answered that.” 

You laughed as Bob replayed the video. “God bless our kids,” you chuckled. “They’re gonna need it.” 

Bob laughed before he kissed your forehead, the two of you drifting back off to sleep in each other’s arms. 

[itskaitsart]

you can be my wingman anytime

[indynerdgirl]

I saw the Blue Angels documentary last night (the one produced by Glen Powell & JJ Abrams) and it was amazing! Several of the shots of them flying really made me feel like I was right there in the cockpit. And let me tell you, there is a HUGE difference in reading that they fly 18 inches apart and actually seeing them fly that close. The skill these pilots have is just incredible. And a heads up, that if you were like me and thought it was going to be narrated by Glen or have him in it at any point, you will be slightly disappointed. It's not a narrated documentary and you only see Glen for a few moments when he's talking about the Blue Angels Foundation charity right before the movie starts. Despite that, it was still a fantastic documentary and now I need someone to make one about the Air Force Thunderbirds! 😄 Also, do yourself a favor and try to see it in true IMAX if possible and not that faux digital IMAX places like AMC has. Blue Angels deserves to been seen in all of it's 70mm glory.

[pilvimarja]

[polar-equinoxx]

Playing with the boys🌟🌅

(Version 2)

[carousel-crows]

heya, if you don't mind i would love it if you could expand the headcannon of tom giving forehead, hand, and nose kisses & pete giving cheek, shoulder, and chest kisses - that was such a cute thought♡ (i feel like pete would blush like crazy, wouldn't he? 😆)

also i love your page sm!:-D one of my favs on tumblr

thank you so much!

kisses:

the nose kisses started in the cold. They had been visiting one of tom's siblings in Idaho for shore leave. Pete was not used to the cold, and hated how he needed so many layers while tom barely needed a jacket. Tom had just laughed and asked if he wanted something warm to sip on. Pete complained that his nose was so cold it would fall off. So Tom gave it a kiss. Multiple, to warm it up a bit. To this day, Pete swears it was the cold that made him flush.

pete gives cheek kisses for the most simple reasons. If tom makes him coffee in the morning, if he holds the door open, if he brings cookies home. They're just his way of saying thank you. He gives them to carole and bradley, too. tom loves it.

Tom's forehead kisses are rarer. They're reserved for sickness comfort. when he draws Pete in for a hug after a nightmare, when bradley scrapes his knees. Pete cherishes them, and he knows they're comforting and loving.

Chest kisses are reverent. Pete kisses the scars he finds, left from a crash, an accident, or a fight. He admires his lover's beauty and how he takes care of himself. Sometimes Tom walks around shirtless just so he can get this special kind of affection.

Hand kisses sprouted from a joke. they had gone to the cinema with carole to see a new romance/action film. there was a dramatic ballroom scene where the main loverboy kissed a lady's hand dramatically. after the film, as they were walking back to the car, tom recreated the scene. Pete was so flushed, tom was worried he was angry. but when pete started giggling, he learned that pete enjoyed displays of affection. the hand kisses weren't often as dramatic as the film, just when they were holding hands or when tom was feeling snuggly, but pete loves them just the same.

shoulder kisses began when tom dislocated his shoulder during a particularly rough crash. He'd just press a peck to the shoulder whenever he could, as if it would help it heal faster. Now he does it out of habit. Pete's also a little (a lot) shorter than Tom, and Pete has perfect to shoulders almost all the time. So he kisses the shoulder.

——

in case you didn't notice, i really like nonsexual intimacy. i don't mind sexual intimacy and stuff, but i'm ace, so i don't really feel the same things, yknow?

anyway i hope you enjoyed reading! as always, if you have any headcanons to share/expand on, send me an ask or dm me!

[justmwahstruly]

while i

Lego Yoda death sound

heheheheagjhedjbh @thatthirstyweirdo it’s ur fella ^^

[magnolia-among-the-stars]

dear august (bradley bradshaw pt. 3)

part one / part two / part three / part four / part five

Summary: You and Bradley have been best friends since college and when he was stationed in North Island, you were thrilled that he would be back in your life. When things start to sour with Bradley’s girlfriend and she breaks things off, Bradley comes to you for drunken comfort. What happens when an accidental hookup brings along an unexpected positive pregnancy test threatens the state of your friendship?

Tropes: friends to lovers, unexpected pregnancy, unrequited feelings

Word Count: 1600+

A/N: I promise more is coming out this week for this and Jake's Whatever This Is story! I'm at residency this week and have a lot of free time where all I'm doing is focusing on writing so get excited <3

Your alarm rings loudly from somewhere across the room, startling you awake. Head pounding, the cool breeze of the AC washes over your skin and sends rough goosebumps rising along your body. A grunt escapes you as you roll over onto the crisp sheets of your mattress. The silky-smooth texture feels buttery and it’s in that moment that your eyes fly open.  

Naked....I'm naked. Your heart drops in your stomach as your wide-eyed gaze searches over a broad and strong freckled back, the memories crashing over you in a way that makes you wish you’d kept your first-grade inhaler. You take a shaky breath, shudder out an exhale and fail to keep a steady and relaxed composure.  

Holy shit. Holy shit. You’d slept with your best friend. You begin a long string of swears quietly as you rise unsteadily onto your feet, clutching the nearest article of clothing and swinging it onto your shoulders. Your fingertips shake as you try to button the top up, calling it quits once there are two tiny buttons holding the shirt closed while you scamper down the hallway into the kitchen. The safety of the countertop gives you time to think, time to process all the mess made down the hallway in the warzone.  

“What the fuck,” you grunt to yourself as glance down to see the blaring pineapple design on your shirt. His shirt. You nearly rip the buttons as you struggle to shed the material, actions freezing when you hear your name being called out from your bedroom.  

“Dais?” Bradley’s morning voice sends electric tingles down your spine and into your tummy. It travels with a hum to your core. It’s deep, deeper than usual and guttural as his heavy footsteps pad down the hallway. His chest is bare. That’s the first thing you noticed is his naked hipbone, though you’re doing everything in your power to avoid direct eye contact with his lower half.  

“Hi,” you cough, “Hey...” Somehow, hands are clutching onto his stupid shirt and tugging it more snuggly to your body, highlighting your figure. You take a moment then to stare at each other. You search his face for the meaning of his tone, finding only a pouty mouth beneath his mustache and flushed cheeks. His sun-bleached brows furrow at the site of you.  

“What a wild night,” he finally puffs out. You are nodding, though each bounce of your chin is a eulogie to your mental health.  

“That’s one way to put it,” you push out a chuckle and wince slightly at the unnatural noise. Awkward was never a word you would use to describe your relationship with Bradley. Any type of response you typically could’ve had falls flat in the air, a deflated balloon crashing back to the ground.  

“So, I’ve got to head back to the Hard Deck to get my car,” he shares, finally breaking the silence.  

“Right, right,” you nod along, glancing at the fridge. “Do you want something to eat? I can make us breakfast sandwiches.” 

“That’s okay Dais,” he offers before saddling up to the countertop separating the two of you. He points at your frame, and you shrink the moment he says, “Can I just get my," he makes a smooth gesture, mimicking the sides of his shirt. Your face feels five times hotter. 

“Right,” you repeat, clumsily tugging the material off your shoulders before remembering once again you are butt ass naked. “Shit, hold on,” your voice is weak as you round the table and speed passed him to your bedroom. Your hands are shaking as you try to undo the fastened button, taking slow breaths as you try to rid your body of the tropical fabric.  

“Hey, hey,” Bradley’s voice soothes as he steps into your space. You weren’t sure when he had gotten there, jumping slightly at the deep rasp in his voice. Large hands encompassed yours as he unbuttons the material himself, hands gliding over your shoulders to push the material away. He reaches behind you, grabbing a large tee shirt and sliding it over your head, messing up your tangled hair in the first place.  

Fully clothed, you can finally look him in the eye. Your best friend, your everything. You can’t help it, the words bubble up your throat as you ask meekly, “Are we okay?” 

Bradley slides the silky material over his bulging biceps as he stares hard at you. “Of course, we’re okay.” His words are reassuring but the higher tone of his voice screams hypocrisy. His warm brown eyes are frantic as they search your face, search for answers to the new lingering question in both of your heads. What the hell happened and where do we go from here? 

He leaves shortly after that and you don’t hesitate to peel your phone from your jeans, dialing a familiar number as you rest your forehead against the cool surface of the counter.  

“Yellow?” the thick accent rings out as he answers the phone. 

“Jake? I need a ride and coffee...stat.”  

It’s only fifteen minutes before the Texan struts through the door, crisp and clean. A wide comparison to Rooster’s state when he left this morning – Jake is freshly shaven and he’s wearing a Navy crew neck with some khakis. He’s also wearing a shit eating grin. “Morning Dukes,” he greets as he swings the door open, sunshine washing over the living room with an eager intensity.  

“Jake, seriously?” you cover your eyes, moaning at the blazing light.  

“What? Did Bradshaw fuck your brains out and ruin your vision?” Jake’s joke hits low and a frown tugs at the corners of your mouth. As soon as Bradley was out the door, you jumped into the shower and flip your hair up into a low bun that you secured with a large clip. After his reaction this morning, you wanted to rub your skin raw in hopes that you would remove the lingering sensations of his touch. Nothing worked.  

He notices immediately because Jakob ‘Hangman’ Seresin notices everything. “What did he do? I’ll kill him Dukes,” he reaches for you. His hands secure your cheeks gently, searching each inch in hopes to find no damage done.  

“He did nothing Jake,” you share, voice hitching slightly at the confession. “I guess that’s the problem...he did nothing. He left this morning without even really talking about everything.” You don’t even notice the tears streaming down your face until Jake’s thumb is swiping them away at each moment, collecting you into his arms to rock you slowly. 

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” his voice is quiet, soft murmurs into your hair. “I’ll shoot him down in our next exercise this week.” His promise is so convincing that you’re pushing him slightly, his chest vibrating with a chuckle. When he glances down to see you smiling, even just a little, he starts to feel a bit more at ease. But the cracks in your heart are still radiating from you and Jake doesn’t know how to heal that. 

“I just feel,” you take a shaky breath and search for the right words. Jake’s own heart shatters as he hears you say, “I feel so used.” The confession isn’t something you thought you would ever admit, and you don’t even believe that Bradley is capable of that malice. But there were too many lingering touches and too few reassuring affirmations for you to feel differently.  

“God Y/N,” Jake tugs you down onto your couch, his large hands rubbing up and down on your arms in a way that feels like he too is trying to wash Bradley’s presence from your skin. It doesn’t help. “How can I help?” The use of your real name brings a new wave of tears to your eyes, washing away the old ones at the severity of the use of it.  

“I think I’m a lost cause if I’m honest,” you tell him. “You might want to cut your losses.”  

“Impossible Dukes,” he mumbles, holding you tightly to him. “I’ll never give up on you.”  

Taglist:

@briseisgone

@emma8895eb

@rachkon

@senjoritanana

@shanimallina87

@luckyladycreator2

@ceilingfann

@rosiahills22

@child-of-sunshine

@callsign-scully

@hopefulinlove

@cevans-winchester

@double-j

@blue-aconite

@callsign-hummingbird

@romanoff13-blog-BLOG

@rosiahills22

@kajjaka

@sylviaes99

@chaoticassidy

@child-of-of-the-sunshine

@memoriesat30

@seresinsweetie

@genius2050

[libraryofantiquitea]

𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡.

pairing: jake "hangman" seresin x civilian female reader

summary: jake visits you at the gallery where you work after he's done training for the day. it becomes very apparent that you've both caught feelings.

warnings: explicit, minors do not interact! oh look, it's smut again! but this time there is [drumroll] some plot! unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (female receiving), jake being turned on by his own callsign.

word count: 5.1k

author's notes: no beta, we die like goose. mainly because i didn't want to subject anyone to how long this part is!

i hadn't intended for this to become a series, but this is the third part in august slipped away.

previous: pt. i | tell me my name pt. ii | tokyo summer

likes / comments / reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for reading! ♥

There was a small art gallery just outside of Miramar; if you wanted to wander around for hours you’d need to make your way into the city proper to go to the San Diego Museum of Art, but if you just wanted to browse some more local art and perhaps purchase a painting or piece of artwork, Evergreen Brush was there for all of your artsy needs.

And that was where you worked as a curator, helping select the pieces and artists that you featured, and turning on your charm to sell artwork to sailors and aviators who might not know the first thing about artwork but wanted a little piece of San Diego to bring home with them.

Jake had texted you early in the morning, he was training pretty much all day but would come and pick you up after you closed the gallery and take you out. For what, he didn’t say, but you didn’t really give a damn where you went, you just wanted to spend time with him.

You had just flipped the sign on the door over to CLOSED for the evening as the familiar sound of fighter jets passed overhead, and you idly wondered if Jake was in one of them.

Fidgeting with some of the everyday rings you wore on your fingers, you wandered further into the gallery to do your “end of day” tasks. It had been a few weeks since you’d met Jake at The Hard Deck, a few weeks since you’d begun this situationship with him. You had promised yourself a very long time ago that you’d never get involved with another military man, but then had realized that if you were going to live in Fightertown that you really didn’t have much of a choice if you wanted to date ever again.

Jake was the type you should’ve run away from, but you had been powerless then to say no to his invitation out for a drink. He was definitely the type you’d normally go out with once, bring back to your home for the night, and that would be that. But there was something incredibly disarming about him that you hadn’t anticipated, a wall that he knocked down everytime you were in his presence.

You got the feeling that wasn’t something that he did often, and wondered what made you so special.

That first night, Jake had told you that he didn’t know how long he would be around. He couldn’t tell you much about what he was doing, it was very hush hush, but you got the impression that the mission was perilous enough that he might not return. And even if he did, this wasn’t where he would be posted long term. Whenever he left that would be it.

You’d had relationships, flings, with expiration dates before, but this was different. With the unknown “best before” date looming over your head, you tried your hardest not to catch feelings. It was fucking impossible with the likes of Jake Seresin.

Sighing, setting some invoices down on the counter, you raised your head and looked across the room to a series of abstract paintings, hoping they would put your mind at ease, quell the noise that would just not shut up.

There was no future with Jake, so it was best to just have a good time while you had him.

Convincing yourself of that was easier said than done.

In the employee lounge, the owner kept all kinds of liquor. Wine, whiskey, beer, anything a customer making a big purchase, an artist making a big sale, or a stressed out curator might crave. You made your way back there and grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two glasses, knowing that it was Jake’s favourite. You didn’t know if he’d want to stick around, or what manner of plans he had for you both when he inevitably arrived, but there was no way you were going to have a drink and not offer him some.

-

You were just wrapping up recording sales for the day when there was a knock on the door. Glass of whiskey lifted halfway to your lips,  you looked over to see Jake at the front door, hands in his pockets, smiling broadly when you made eye contact.

You giggled, feeling like a teenager being picked up for a school dance.

Somehow you managed to keep yourself from running to the door, though you moved as quickly as your feet and self respect could take you. From the other side of the door, Jake held your gaze as you unlocked it, before swinging it open and allowing him access.

“Hey darlin’,” he said brightly, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in close for a kiss.

“Hey,” you murmured, returning his kiss and draping your arms over his shoulder. “Gimmie a sec and I’ll lock the door.”

You mournfully pulled yourself from Jake’s embrace and moved to lock the door, while he stepped further into the gallery. “I never knew this place existed until you told me about it,” he said, looking around at some of the paintings.

“I don’t think it’s in the pamphlets they give you when you arrive at TOPGUN about sights to see while you’re here,” you teased, locking up and turning around. “I found a bottle of whiskey in the break room. Would you like some?”

“Baby girl,” Jake said, tilting his head slightly and raising his eyebrows as he turned to look at you. “C’mon.”

You grinned so brightly that your face hurt, and you walked over to the counter to pour a glass for Jake and another one for yourself. 

“Very different work environment from mine,” Jake teased, taking a glass and then clinking it against yours. “Cheers.”

“Cheers,” you repeated, watching him for a moment before taking a sip from your glass.

You couldn’t stop watching him; the way his Adam's apple bobbed as the alcohol slid down his throat, the way his green eyes practically twinkled in the low light, the closeness of him when he truly did not have to be that close at all.

It had been a few days since you’d seen him, and all you could think about was the last time you had seen him. Your face felt warm, and whether it was from Jake’s presence or the liquor you would never truly know.

“I just need to finish some paperwork, and then I’m all yours for the night,” you said, shuffling some papers and clearing your throat. More for your own benefit than Jake’s. “Feel free to have a browse.”

Jake smiled at you, before slowly pacing over to the wall of paintings. “I think I will, darlin’.”

Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to look down to finish what you had been working on, even if your eyes wanted to follow Jake through the gallery, watch the way his hand clutched at the glass of whiskey, the broad span of his shoulders, his perfect ass.

You told yourself the sooner you got done with paperwork, the sooner your hands could busy themselves with something else.

It was just as you were finishing up that you heard Jake say, “Could you tell me more about this one?”

Smiling, you moved from behind the counter, grabbing your drink along the way and sauntering over to where Jake was standing. When you realized exactly which painting he was talking about, something in your stomach began to flutter.

It was one of yours.

“Well,” you began, as you stood next to Jake, “this is a contemporary figurative painting. The artist specializes in the genres of portraiture and landscape. But, with this painting she has found a way to … sort of combine the two.” You looked out the corner of your eye to observe Jake, to find that he was hanging on your every word, and seemed genuinely interested. “The landscape in question is the artist’s own body.”

“Hmm,” Jake hummed, before looking closely. “She’s laying down, right? The curves of her body look like rolling hills.”

“That was precisely her intent,” you continued, looking over at Jake. “She isn’t always her body’s biggest fan, and society as a whole still has a problem with bodies that don’t fit the typical beauty standard. So, she is subverting their judgemental gaze by focusing on just a small part of her body, at an angle that most people would not see her in.”

Jake inhaled sharply, as if processing, and you briefly wondered if you’d made yourself too vulnerable, put too much on the table. Of course you and Jake had enjoyed some deeper discussions since meeting, and you’d talked about your art with him, but this was different than all of that. This was opening up in a way that you didn’t with even people you’d known for quite a long time. He’d be right to be put off by it.

“I think it’s stunning,” Jake said quietly, before polishing off what remained of his whiskey and then letting his arm hang loosely at his side, holding the glass by the rim. “And I’ve seen this body from this angle. It’s one of the most gorgeous and magnetic things I’ve ever seen.”

“Jake,” you whispered, shaking your head slightly. You were alternately touched and thought that he was putting on quite the show.

“What?” he asked, turning his attention from the painting to look over at you, eyebrow raised quizzically.

“You don’t have to flatter me so much,” you said, reaching for the empty glass and offering him a smile. “You already have me.”

“Darlin’,” Jake began, his voice dropping into that low register that drove you wild, “I’m not … saying that to try and butter you up. This is gorgeous.” He gestured to the painting. “I don’t know much about art, but I think I know what I like.” He paused, simply looking into your eyes for a moment. “I want to buy it.”

“Jake,” you began, biting at your bottom lip and shaking your head slightly. “C’mon. You don’t really want to buy a painting of my back curving into my ass. There are so many better paintings here. If you want some art I’d be happy to -”

“I’m not playing at something,” Jake insisted, brow furrowing as you turned toward the breakroom. He reached out and grabbed your wrist. “Hey. I like you. We wouldn’t be doing … this, if I didn’t. I like your art. I want to buy some.”

You’d whirled around, facing him, and swallowed hard. God, he was going to make you talk about all of this, wasn’t he?

“I can make you some art. Some better art. You don’t want that one,” you insisted. “Besides, it costs far too much money.”

“So give me a discount then,” Jake said, smiling at you. You set the empty glasses down on a nearby shelf. “I don’t understand. Why don’t you want me to have this?”

“Do you really want a painting of a part of my naked body?” you asked incredulously, raising your eyebrows. “I have so much better work than that. Something that will actually look nice hanging in your home. Something that people won’t ask you questions about.”

“Yes, I want a painting of a part of your naked body,” Jake insisted, reaching for your hand. “I really like your naked body. I really like you. Besides it would be nice to have something -”

“Don’t.”

“- to remember you.”

Even though you had desperately wanted to have this conversation, even though your heart threatened to beat out of the space behind your rib cage every time you thought of him, the last thing that you wanted to talk about was the after. Aside from a couple of slip ups, you’d generally done pretty well about ignoring the fact that this was all going to end.

Somehow, Jake acknowledging it made the whole thing real, and worse, stating that he wanted to remember you felt like a dagger to your heart.

“We agreed not to talk about it,” you said simply, trying to turn away from him, but he was still holding on tightly to your wrist.

Jake pulled you toward him, against his chest, and held you close. “I know,” he said, a kindness in his voice as he relinquished his hold on your wrist to brush your hair away from his face. “I know we did. But, as we’ve established, I like you, want to remember you after I leave. What’s so wrong with that?”

“Because we agreed that when this was over, whenever that might be, that we wouldn’t,” you said sternly, trying desperately to act like your heart wasn’t cracking open like a ship against the rocks. But in a good way. You didn’t want to hold back what you felt, but you did it because of what you’d both agreed to. “And now you’re trying to change the rules. That’s not fair.”

Jake pursed his lips together. “You’re right, it’s not.” You puffed your chest out, having felt like you’d won a little victory. “But I never said I was fair.” He held you a little closer, and you could feel the heat radiating off of his body. “I like you. A lot. More than I was anticipating. I don’t want to act like you don’t mean anything to me. You do. I’m not going to forget you when this is over. How could I?”

“I don’t want to talk about the expiration date,” you murmured, a little breathless. Jake was leaning in closer to you, his nose bumping against yours. “We have right now. We’ll worry about later when we get there.”

It was easy enough to say. You had been worrying about later since yours and Jake’s first date, when he’d left your home and headed back to the base, while you had sat on the floor, his come dripping down your thighs.

You wouldn’t have changed what the two of you had for anything in the world. Even if it would inevitably be painful in a matter of weeks.

“Right now,” Jake murmured in agreement. God, he was so close. You tried to close the space between you and he pulled back a little, smirking at you with a flash of perfect, white teeth, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Fuck, you hated him in that moment. “I kind of want to bend you over something and fuck you.”

“Jake.”

“Dress hiked up over your hips,” he continued, his hands moving down along your sides before settling on your aforementioned hips.

“Jake,” you repeated, wrapping an arm around his neck and trying to haul him closer. He still wouldn’t kiss you, and you decided that you were done playing fair. With your free hand you reached down between Jake’s legs, and grabbed his stiffening cock through his pants.

“Fuck,” he growled, hips canting forward toward your touch.

“Hike my dress up over my hips then,” you breathed, squeezing him gently through his jeans, your lips brushing against the shell of his ear. “Raw me.”

He said nothing, and instead gave you that kiss that you had so been craving. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t gentle, and there was the very real possibility that your teeth knocking together would result in a trip to the dentist for one of you. But you didn’t care. It was so passionate, so incredibly raw, and you lived for the intensity that he put into every kiss that he bestowed upon your waiting and eager lips.

You found yourself crowded against a wall, between two contemporary impressionist paintings, and visions of your first time together flooded back in your mind. Not one to reminisce while in the process of being ravished, you turned your attention back to what was happening in the then and now, Jake’s teeth scraping along the column of your throat. You tangled a hand in his hair, loving the feeling of the soft tendrils wrapping around your fingers, where his hair was a little longer. 

During a moment of respite, where you both needed to come up for air, you held Jake’s gaze as you hiked your dress up slowly, hooking your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and shoving them down your legs. Jake didn’t tear his eyes away from yours, but you could tell from the shift in his breathing that he wanted to. Your underwear off, you relinquished your hold on the hem of your dress and reached forward, palming Jake’s hardening cock through his jeans.

“Do you want me, love?” you rasped, and only regretted calling him love a little bit. It was a term of endearment that you used with many people, but it seemed like such a loaded word with him.

“Yes,” he gasped, still rapt as he looked into your eyes, nodding his head slowly as you began to undo his belt.

“Do you want to split my pussy open on your thick cock?” you purred, pulling the belt from its loops and tossing it onto the floor.

Jake leaned forward slightly, bracing one hand against the wall, the other against your throat. You gasped, tipping your head back slightly as he applied just the slightest bit of pressure. “Yes,” he growled, that southern drawl making your cunt pulse around nothing, his thumb smoothing over the delicate skin along the column of your throat.

Your hands trembling, you shoved the waistband of his shorts down just enough to free him. Your hand circled around his length, stroking him slowly, and you marvelled at how wet he was already, how eager he was. Whenever you were together you never doubted how much he wanted you. It was always quite apparent.

The angle was all wrong - he had several inches on you height-wise. Jake dipped his head down, claiming your mouth in one final brutal kiss, before he reluctantly pulled himself away. You whimpered, but didn’t have long to look at him questioningly, or look at him at all. He grabbed you roughly and turned you around, slamming your front against the wall. Your hands automatically went out to brace yourself, and you let out a satisfied groan.

“Not too rough?” he asked you.

“No,” you replied breathlessly. “Fuckin’ perfect …”

The only downside was that you couldn’t see him, and you loved looking at him, his face, watching as every emotion he felt, everything he thought passed over his features. At least with you. You looked back over your shoulder to find him stroking himself, and you let out a low moan, wriggling against the wall in anticipation. He must’ve felt your eyes on him, because he looked up and regarded you for a moment before reaching for the hem of your dress and pushing it up over your hips, just as he said that he wanted to.

“God, look at you,” Jake rumbled.

You let out a soft noise that died on your lips when he drew his hand back and cracked it hard against your exposed ass. “Oh!” you cried, forehead dropping against the wall. “Holy shit …”

“Okay?” he asked with some trepidation.

You appreciated him asking, but it took you a few moments to find the words. “Yes,” you finally replied. “I’ll - you can do whatever you want to me. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”

Those had apparently been the magic words, because you heard him groan, heard the slick sound of his hand moving over his cock before he smacked your ass hard again. He hit you with such force that you felt your entire body jostle from it, could feel the ache that lingered between your legs permeating through your entire core. You pushed away from the wall, pushed back against him, cock moving between your cheeks.

“Oh my god,” he murmured, hips jerking forward, his hands settling on your hips. “Baby girl -”

“Jake, please,” you whined, wriggling against him. “Don’t - don’t make me wait.”

That was apparently the last thing that he wanted to do. One of his hands relinquished its hold on you, reaching between them to grab at the base of his cock. He shifted it so that it was nestled between your thighs, letting out a shuddering breath as it dragged against your clit, your lips.

“Fuck me,” you gasped desperately, reaching behind yourself and curling an arm around his neck, drawing them closer. His mouth immediately sought out your throat, and he nudged the collar of your jean jacket to the side with his fingers. “Hangman, give me your cock.”

You’d never called him by his callsign before, and he let out the most pathetic, devastatingly sexy sound you’d ever heard. 

He didn’t make you wait any longer, pressing his fingers along his length and guiding it into your wet and waiting cunt. You both gasped, relieved, and seemingly melted against one another as he began to press inside. Jake’s hands sought your breasts, squeezing them gently through the fabric of your dress, your bra, a low moan echoing off the walls of the art gallery as he sunk deeper inside of you.

“Fuck. Fuck,” he moaned as you pressed back against him. “Baby girl … oh my god.”

You, in that moment, felt so incredibly powerful. You felt used, like a plaything for little more than his pleasure. But the way that he filled you, worshipped your body with every touch, every kiss, every shift of his hips let you know the truth - you were cherished, you were ultimately the one in control. You could bend him to your every whim, and he would go willingly. 

You whined and gasped as he filled you, and when his hips met your ass and he couldn’t move any deeper inside of you, you made a small, frustrated sound. You would’ve gladly taken more of him if there were more to take - and he certainly wasn’t lacking.

Swaying your hips, you tipped your head back against his shoulder, your own hands settling over his, encouraging him to grab your breasts harder. “Hangman,” you murmured breathlessly. “Fuck me. Split me open, love.”

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he moaned, peppering your face and throat with desperate, messy kisses.

“Why would I do that?” you asked with a breathless smile, turning your head slightly so that you could get one of those kisses on your lips. 

After taking a moment to get accustomed to the feeling of being inside you, of finding the position that made you cry out the most, Jake began to move. Slowly at first, but then in earnest, his hands coming to settle on your hips once more. He guided you along him as he moved, his hips snapping forward and meeting your ass again and again, the deliciously improper smacking sound filling the gallery.

Christ, how you wanted to see him.

“Jake,” you whimpered as he fucked you with abandon. “Love, I can’t - let me - I want to see you.”

He seemed only too happy to oblige, and though he reluctantly pulled out of you (you both let out mournful sounds), he quickly rectified it by manhandling you until you were facing him. Your eyes wide and startled, you barely had a moment to react, to adjust, before he was swooping in and kissing you, pushing you back against the wall. You lifted a leg, hooking it over his hip, and he groaned something against your mouth about you being so flexible, and you smiled. You ground your hips against him, and he bucked against you, growling as his tongue delved into your mouth.

“Put it - put it back in,” you whimpered, arching against him, draping your arms over his shoulders. The angle was still all wrong, and for the first time in a very long while you hated how short you were compared to him. “Jake,” you whined, frustrated, head thumping back against the wall.

You had no idea what had gotten into you that night, but you felt all manner of things all at once. You could scarcely remember a time when you had wanted anyone but Jake, despite the fact that he’d only come into your life a few weeks previous. Your heart ached from how strongly that you felt for him, and from the inevitable end of your relationship. You were so overjoyed, while simultaneously being absolutely gutted.

“Sweetheart,” Jake murmured, pressing his mouth along the curve of your jaw. “It’s okay. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

One of his hands moved under the thigh of the leg you had up over his hip, while the other traced idle patterns on your other leg. You whimpered quietly, looking into his green eyes as he searched your face for a moment. You didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was you wanted to give it to him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, as if he’d never said it to you before. He had, that night of your first date, but your heart felt full from hearing it again.

“So are you,” you responded in kind, and Jake smiled and bit at his lip.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he murmured. “A little tighter than you already are.” You did as instructed, looking at him quizzically. “Hold on.”

You didn’t have the time to ask him what he was doing. He hooked his arm under the back of your knee against his hip, and then crouched down, doing the same with the other leg, hoisting you up off the floor. You let out a startled noise and held onto him tighter, your hand fisted the collar of his shirt in your hand.

“Jake,” you gasped.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, pressing his face against your throat for a moment.

Jake pushed you back up against the wall, using that as leverage to hoist you a little higher. You untangled one of your arms from being wrapped around him and reached down between the two of you, grabbing his cock and guiding the tip inside of yourself. Gravity took care of the rest.

“Oh, fuck,” you whined, eyebrows furrowing as you looked down to watch Jake’s cock slipping inside. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

At that point, Jake seemed to be beyond even four letter, single syllable words, and simply pressed his mouth against your throat, alternating between breathing harshly and moaning, delicious sounds coming from that you hadn’t been aware he was capable of making.

You wriggled, attempting to move yourself up and down along Jake’s cock, using his shoulders as leverage. You were able to move slightly, but mostly it was left up to gravity, and Jake’s arms lifting you. He was so strong, but you were sure that he couldn’t keep that up for long. Thankfully, the angle was fucking perfect and he wouldn’t have to.

“Jake,” you gasped, tangling one hand in his hair and tugging. He moved shallowly, the base of his shaft rubbing against your clit. You wouldn’t last. “Jake!”

He gasped your name in turn, tongue darting out to taste your skin, covered in a fine sheen of sweat. “I’m - I’m coming. Come with me. Sweetheart, please -”

You didn’t need to be asked twice, his pleas and the way he stretched you open, hit all of the sweetest spots inside you ensuring that you came tumbling along with him. Jake was inelegant as he came - grunting and gasping and twitching against you, and it only spurred your own orgasm on further, your entire body trembling with the force of it. It rocked you to your core so hard that when you closed your eyes for a moment you saw the brightest of stars.

Gingerly, you attempted to lower your legs, but your feet still didn’t touch the floor. You could feel his entire body quaking against you, and he crouched slightly to pull his cock out of you, ease you onto the floor, still breathing hard, still making soft sounds against your skin. He seemed reluctant to pull away from the warmth of your throat.

“Fuck,” you gasped, tipping your head back against the wall, your fingers gently scratching at his scalp. “Jake …”

You had said little else for several minutes. They seemed to be the best two words, at least for the moment. They were good words. They were undoubtedly your favourites.

Jake leaned his forehead against yours, and you traded ragged breaths as you attempted to regain any semblance of composure. You didn’t know how the rest of the evening was likely to shake out, but you hoped that it didn’t include being upright for any length of time, as you felt you were barely capable then of standing without assistance.

He pulled away from you, and you were about to tighten your grip on his hair, not wanting him to go anywhere, but he began to slowly sink to his knees. There was a question that died on your lips as he lifted the hem of your dress, which you took a hold of in your hands and hiked up over your thighs as you watched him. Hands settling on your thighs, Jake leaned in and licked the sensitive bundle of nerves at your center. You cried out, relinquishing your hold on your dress with at least one hand, which you tangled into his soft, mused hair once more.

Without a word, he tilted his head to the side and began to lick into you and it was through a haze that you realized that he was licking his own come out of you. 

You may have come again from the sheer knowledge of that alone.

“Oh,” you gasped, watching him intently. “Oh god. Fuckin’ ... Jake.”

He moaned against you like it was the sweetest thing that he’d ever tasted, his own release mixed with yours. And you didn't doubt for a moment that he thought just that. Jake ate your pussy like it was a goddamn honour.

“You … holy fuck,” you purred, fingers carding gently through his hair.

You spread your legs a little wider, Jake’s tongue probing your cunt, as if he didn’t want to lose a single drop. He was positively filthy, and looked so incredibly debauched on his knees in front of you, neck craned, brow furrowed in concentration. He opened his eyes to look up at you, and you shuddered under the heat and intensity of his gaze. When Jake deemed you sufficiently clean, he drew back, licking at his lips and smoothing a hand over his face, his eyes still locked with yours.

“I …” You found that you couldn’t speak, and instead let go of your dress, letting it tumble over your thighs. Your now free hand joined the other in Jake’s hair, the both of them sweeping down over his face, thumbs brushing over his cheeks. “Wow.”

Jake chuckled, turning his head and pressing a kiss to one of your palms. “Yes, darlin’. Wow.”

/end.

[ever-changing-fandom-bomb]

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