#care fic
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dreamskis · 9 months ago
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Every Version of Us
pairing: dream/george
explicit - 2.3k - oneshot
in which dream is an unreliable narrator (and also a bit of an idiot)
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notrobinsomethingworse · 9 days ago
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Dick (Nightwing) and Jason (Robin) stare at Bruce. One sports pleading eyes, the other a shit eating grin. There’s a child between them with black hair and blue eyes.
Bruce, he doesn’t know what’s happening but he doesn’t like it: No.
Dick, grinning: He’s our younger brother now.
Jason, nodding seriously: You’re not gonna take him from us.
Tim, got kidnapped while taking photos of patrol, just happy to be there: Where’s the Batcave?
Bruce: what.
Dick, grinning wider: He’s ours now.
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frownyalfred · 7 months ago
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Jason and Bruce are out late one night in Gotham as civilians. They get cornered by a mugger and Jason nearly pisses himself, he’s so amused. He teases the would-be mugger about their hand placement, even tries to goad the mugger into a fight because he’s Red Hood. He can disarm anyone in seconds. It doesn’t matter if you have a gun — he has two.
He’s Red Hood, and he has the literal Bat of Gotham standing behind him like a wall of muscle. They’re as close to invincible as humans get, in this town. And that kind of confidence scares off their would-be mugger.
But then Jason turns around, a smile stretching across his face, and Bruce is white. Bone white and so so quiet, eyes wide and trained on where the mugger had been standing.
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soldrawss · 1 month ago
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Something something 16yo 2k12 Mikey gets sucked into a portal and sent into the RISE universe and ends up helping raise the RISE kiddos AU
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iamanartichoke · 1 year ago
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I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -
I am fine with "the audience" -
downloading my fics
printing my fics
copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics
sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3
making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss
doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc
I am not fine with "the audience"
doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity
feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever
Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.
Enjoy the fandom things.
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essayofthoughts · 1 month ago
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Genuinely, I think one of the most fun and crunchy things about any character is
How far they will go for things they want
What they will do to get things they want
Things they won't do, no matter how much they want what they'd get in exchange
Because these things tell you some very important things about the character, namely their limits, their price, and their absolute No's. (And it lets you create some really REALLY crunchy conflict)
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keferon · 6 months ago
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......So originally I wanted to make just a sketch of the hug scene but mhmgkhllgkh here we are haha
Based on Mistakes on mistakes until
+ close ups of their eyes because I sprinkled them with the tiny extra details
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radiance1 · 8 months ago
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Danny has been reincarnated.
Which was an odd thing to realize, it wasn't even a slow one he just... snapped into it one day. One moment he was staring at a wall out of boredom the next, well, he was staring for an entirely different reason.
It was a task for his now young -he thinks around three years old?- mind to work its way through the memories, but it wasn't like he had much else to do honestly. So, what does he know?
His name is Danny, like, his actual name and not just a moniker. He was once a halfa and he already knows he's going to be missing invisibility and intangibility. He, well, died. For like, a second time which actually makes sense because reincarnation-
Anyways.
He was a clone of two people from this thing called the Justice League which, weird name but probably some government or activist group. Wonder Woman and Superman. Which were pretty weird names to name your kids but eh.
He doesn't really remember much besides that from this life, or the one from before but he's an adult! He'll figure things out once he gets out of this containment tube thing.
Did he mention he was in a test tube? He's a tube baby now. He thinks? Or maybe it's more like he's being contained.
Whatever.
So he breaks out. Thank you apparent superstrength that he has no idea why he has but he's not going to complain! He then wandered around all of the other test tubes, able to remember just enough of English to see that yea, they're dead.
He probably was too, before he had memories zapped into him. Or a vegetable.
He then finds this really big container, checks it out, then opens it because the clone inside isn't dead!
'Project Match' it said. He'll just call him Match.
Was he thanked for helping him? Nope. You would think that he would be thanked or at least somewhat respected for saving this guy but nope!
He was, quite literally, held up by his leg and dangled in the air. Who dangles a three-year-old?! Well, he was technically and adult but still! The next few things were a blur but after pulling off the old Fenton charm he found him and Match outside as he tried to stop him from attacking random people.
Luckily the charms and privilege of the youngest (he's assuming he's the youngest, because he's physically three) was more than enough to get through to him. Sure, the guy couldn't form words, really aggressive for literally no reason, really weird but also absolutely cool looking eyes. But he worked around the first issue by developing their own personal language from like grunts and stuff, the second he once again used his youngest privilege to boss him around and the third a pair of sunglasses easily fixed.
He just had to steer Match clear of those random S crest mark thingies. Which was a weird thing to hate but hey, he's not there to judge.
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bamsara · 3 months ago
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If you're stressing out about a part of the writing process for fanfic to the point where it's not fun anymore, just don't do that part
Post that fanfic with 1000 grammar and spelling errors. Make your characters OOC and give it a Mary Sue. It is a hobby you're sharing not a literature assignment you have to turn in by midnight
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bethsvrse · 10 months ago
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when I find a brilliant, jaw dropping, amazing x reader fic but suddenly I’ve been given a first name, last name, hair colour and eye colour
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dindjarindiaries · 28 days ago
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Clueless
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character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)
prompts: “Are you flirting with me?” “Have been for years, but thanks for noticing.”
main masterlist • prompt masterlist
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You tapped around the usual controls you could reach from the chair behind Din's as the cockpit of the Razor Crest groaned to life around you. "How's the hyperdrive looking?"
Din kept moving his gloved hands along the main console as he answered. "It's online." He gave his helmet a quick tilt as he pushed one more button above his head. "For now."
Din exhaled a heavy breath and wrapped his hands around the joysticks, giving them a squeeze before he maneuvered the gunship off the ground. The breath you let out was one of relief; the two of you had certainly been trapped on worse planets before, but you were glad to see the sight of it fading below you.
"Glad you're confident in your work." You failed to hide your growing smile as you relaxed and let Din take care of the rest.
"This isn't a confidence problem." Din spared a look at you over his shoulder before he lifted his hands to grasp the hyperspace levers. "The Crest just manages to surprise me from time to time."
With that, Din pulled back, and the stars stretched out before you. They then burst into the familiar plethora of blue and white swirling lights, beginning yet another long journey through hyperspace.
Hopefully one that you wouldn't get forcefully pulled out of. Again.
But you were still stuck on what Din had said: This isn't a confidence problem. That drew a pleased hum from you, one that you didn't bother to keep hidden from him. It wasn't like he'd get it, anyway. Not if he hadn't the other countless times you'd done it.
"I like that."
Din, now leaning back in his chair, swiveled in his seat to face you. His helmet was tilted in genuine confusion. "Like what?"
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you instead gestured to him with your chin. "The confidence."
Din shrugged. "Comes from experience."
You smirked and kept your arms crossed over your chest. "I'd like to see what kind of experience."
Din didn't move, but his tone spelled out all the confusion you likely would have seen on his face if it wasn't covered by his helmet. "Was getting pulled out of hyperspace hours ago not enough experience for you?"
That time, you really did let yourself roll your eyes as you laughed and stood to your feet. Honestly, the tally of your advances versus Din's own cluelessness was getting difficult to keep track of. "Fair point."
You stepped over to Din and set a hand on his armored shoulder.
"It's been a long day. I'd say it's time for some beauty sleep, but you've already got the first part covered." You gave his pauldron a squeeze and turned around. "And no, rest isn't an option this time."
You could only get a few steps away, however, when you suddenly heard Din stand up behind you. "Wait."
You froze in place and looked at him over your shoulder, lifting your brow as you awaited him to retaliate with some kind of meaningless yet humorous joke.
Instead, you saw him nervously shifting his weight between his feet. Even his gloved hands were pulling tight into fists before he asked a question you never thought you'd hear.
"Are you flirting with me?"
As surprised as you were to hear the words, you didn't miss a beat with your response. "Have been for years, but thanks for noticing." You flashed him a wink and started walking forward again, letting your sudden adrenaline carry you. "See you in a few hours."
You had only just started to cross the cockpit's threshold when Din found his voice again. "What?"
You laughed to yourself but didn't stop your stride as you stepped over the ladder towards the storage space you had claimed as your own private bunk. The door slid open for you, but before it could close, something—or someone—stood in the way.
"Hold on."
Din sounded out of breath, and when you turned around, you saw him leaning against the metal material of the storage room's threshold. His body was still rigid, the same way it looked when he was preparing to leap into battle.
"You can't just... after you..." Din gestured absently behind himself, to the open cockpit.
You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest again as you fully faced him. "I know this incredibly obvious revelation is somehow news to you, but it's not to me, and I'd really like to get some sleep."
Din just shook his helmet in pure disbelief. His modulated voice was lower than usual when he spoke again. "All this time?"
You huffed and looked down at your boots. "What did you think I was doing?"
Din's tone with thick with embarrassment. "Being nice."
You laughed again. You couldn't help it. "Of course you did." You reached forward and tapped your knuckles against his helmet. "Your skull must be as thick as your beskar."
You stood back where you were before and watched Din carefully. His visor was focused on the floor, and his gloved fingertips were fluttering thoughtfully on the hand he had propped up by his head.
You closed your eyes and sighed. His cluelessness was even worse than you thought it was.
"Listen, Din, you clearly need some rest. Just... go to sleep and we can talk about this later. Okay?"
Din's helmet snapped back up to you at that. "No. I'm sorry, let me just..."
He leaned off the threshold but continued to stand in it, keeping the door open for himself. His gloved hand palmed his helmet as his chest rose and fell with a frustrated breath.
"Kriff."
You chuckled and shook your head at him. "Din, it's really not that big of a deal."
Din stared at you before his armored shoulders deflated. "It isn't?"
You let out a softer breath as your chest squeezed. "I didn't mean..." Now you were the one palming your face. "Not like that. I just meant that I'm not offended or anything."
Din tilted his helmet. "Offended by what?"
You shrugged, too overcome by your newfound embarrassment to look at him as your stare returned to your boots. "You not reciprocating."
Din let out a sigh so heavy that you had no choice but to look up at him again. He had changed his position so that his hands were set on his hips as he shook his helmet.
"That's the thing." His visor found your gaze before he nodded. "I've been trying to."
Now, it was really your turn to be shocked. You blinked at him a few times as your heart somersaulted in your chest. All this time, you thought your flirting was just a vain effort to get the attention of a man who would never be open to you or what you had to offer. You were starting to wonder if you had somehow managed to miss something.
You found your voice, but it was only a squeak. "What?"
Din gestured with a gloved hand behind you. "I'm not good with words, so I tried to do things. Like helping you set up this room. And cleaning your weapons." The next part was a mumble you nearly missed. "And making you that blanket."
You whipped around, spotting the blanket—your favorite, by the way—that had just shown up one day on your makeshift bunk. You huffed in disbelief and turned back around to face him. "That was you?"
"Who else?"
It was Din's turn to laugh, though it was only a raspy chuckle for him. He even turned your own question back on you.
"What did you think I was doing?"
And your answer was nothing different. "Being nice."
Din let out the biggest sigh you'd ever heard from him, and you couldn't even blame him.
Oh, the irony of it all. Maybe you were actually the clueless one.
"So..." You clasped your hands behind your back and rocked on your heels. " What now?"
Din shrugged. "Hell if I know." He gestured with his helmet behind him. "I think I just proved I'm not the most qualified in this area."
You spared another glance at the blanket. "Clearly, I'm not much better."
Din looked off to the side the way he always did when he was planning something. After a few heartbeats, he nodded to himself and looked at you again. "I might have an idea."
You lifted your brow. "Yeah?"
Din nodded again. "We should switch."
"Switch what?"
Din shifted his weight and used his finger to gesture between the two of you. "Techniques?" The suggestion came out as a question. "I'll try words, and you try actions."
You hummed in consideration before ultimately nodding. "Okay, yeah. I like that idea." You smirked at him. "You first."
Din, for once in his life, stammered. "What? I—Well, I can't just..."
"You can." You took a step closer to him. "You have something to say to me. I know you do."
It was then that something overcame Din, and you could see it in the way his posture relaxed into something much more familiar and comfortable. His visor gave you a steady once-over as he took a smaller step closer to you.
"I have a lot of things I want to say to you."
You let yourself embrace the flustered feeling even as you let out an impressed whistle. "That was good, Djarin! You're learning." You gave his armored shoulder a pat.
Din gave his helmet a soft tilt. "Your turn."
You grinned, letting your hand fall from his shoulder to instead grasp his arm. You other hand rose to meet it, and gently, you pulled him further into the room, causing the door to slide shut behind him. Din looked back at it in surprise, but when he looked at you again, he didn't seem displeased.
"I'm offering you my bunk." You gestured back towards it. "Because I want you here, but also because I don't want you sleeping on that sorry excuse for a bed down in the hold anymore."
Din chuckled at that, the sound thick with both amusement and admiration as he nodded. "Fair enough."
You helped him get settled into the bunk with you, draping the blanket he had apparently made over both of you as the final touch. Your face was the closest it had ever been to his visor as you laid beside him. Surprisingly, he was the one to break the brief silence.
"This is a good start."
You smiled, humming once more before getting close enough to rest your face against his cowl. "I agree."
The gloved hand you felt on your back was enough evidence of the fact that he was just as comfortable, now, and not as clueless as you had thought him to be.
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to0-many-headcanons · 14 days ago
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I love the idea of Danny’s obsession being showing love and care to people
For the longest time he thought it was protecting people after all that’s what he did for 3 years but during those years he realized it wasn’t protection, he still protected town but it wasn’t his obsession
Then he thought it was space, he had been obsessed with it for years and had originally wanted to become an astronaut or at least work for NASA in some way, but that wasn’t it either although it took longer for him to realize
When he first came to Gotham, on the run from his parents with the help of Clockwork, he got some forged documents made it look like he was really born in this universe and everything, he went to school for aerospace engineering so he could work for NASA
He had to work a job, he originally started at a cafe and realized he loved when people complimented his baked goods or his brews. He felt better when he helped street kids, after all living near Crime Alley meant there were plenty of kids who need even just food. He slowly realized his obsession was caring for and showing love to other people, the love he sorely lacked, sure Jazz tried she really did but she was only a child too, she couldn’t provide what Danny needed no matter how hard she tried because she needed it too and never got it
He finished school after picking up degrees to start a business, he then started his cafe, Phantom Zone, a little on the nose but he liked it and it drew ghost like crazy
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frownyalfred · 6 months ago
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Batfamily/Superfamily angst fic where one of the Supes (Jon? Kon?) takes off too quickly/recklessly next to one of the Batkids and accidentally ruptures their eardrum and Bruce goes on the warpath for Clark about it.
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marvelwitchergilmore · 1 month ago
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Medical Emergency
Summary: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fe!Reader -> When Jake gets a call asking to pick you up from the hospital, it's safe to say he's confused. Especially considering neither of you were known for getting along with the other.
Disclaimer: Enemies to lovers, brother's best friend, descriptions of being ill (nothing fully specified, just fainting a lot, low blood sugar and hormones), swearing, fluff, steamy moments, he takes care of you. This has been in my w.i.p for a while now so it's kinda a long one. Not Proof Read.
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It was safe to say Jake was confused to find out he was your emergency contact. 
It was known to most people in the town that you and Jake weren’t exactly the best of friends. The hatred started all back when he was brought into Top Gun the first time round. Before he suddenly became the best, of the best of the best. And each year he came back, it only got worse. 
Neither of you would be surprised if everyone in San Diego knew about how much you and Jake didn’t get along. 
So, yeah. Getting a call from a Nurse called Emma telling him he needed to come and pick you up from the hospital…he was confused. 
He’d spent most of the day training the new recruits at Top Gun. He was on base when he got the call, but twenty minutes later, he was parked outside the hospital and was being shown to your room. 
“She’s to take two of these every six hours for the next three days. If she has any drastic changes; dizziness, nausea, vomiting, etc. Bring her back. But she should be okay.”
He hadn’t even been told what had happened. 
Then he saw you. 
On a typical day, your hair was either up or down. You typically wore bright colours since the kids in your class like to point them out and name them. And even at the end of the week when you’d walk into the Hard Deck, Penny already having your drink waiting for you, and you’d look tired and ready to go to bed, you were still…bright. Put together. 
But from where he was standing, you were dressed in grey sweats and a Top-Gun hoodie. Most likely, you thought it was your brother’s. But from the worn hole around the edge of it let Jake know it was his. One your brother had never returned to him. 
You looked…like you needed to be comforted. 
Your hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail at the base of your skull. Any hints of make-up had been long washed away. Your nail polish was chipped, if not already peeled from your nails. 
Finally slipping your shoes on, you stood slowly. You looked like you needed to sleep for a year, and maybe take another nap for eight months. 
“Just sign here and here and then you’re free to go.”
Jake watched as the nurse’s words just about registered in your ears before you slowly picked the pen up from her hand and signed your name at the bottom of the paper. 
Reaching to grab the rest of your stuff, Jake almost swooped forwards. “I’ve got it.”
You just nodded. “Thanks.”
Any other day, you would have told him you could do it yourself and tell him to fuck off. 
He picked up your overnight bag and, with a hand at the bottom of your back, led you out of the hospital. 
“This way.”
You followed him back to his car and once he knew you were safe inside the passenger seat, he rounded the car and got into his seat. 
“I did tell them just to call me a cab. You can just drop me off down the road. You don’t need to-”
“I’m not letting you walk home.” He told you. “What’s your address?”
Part of Jake wished you’d fight him more about walking home. At least that way he’d know you were actually okay. He still would have driven you home, but…he wanted you back. 
Typing your address into his phone, he followed the sat-nav. 
By the time he pulled up outside your house, you were asleep. He waited for five minutes, letting you sleep whilst he researched and read the prescription you’d been given. 
Then he looked up at your house. You had to have a spare key. 
Carefully, he left his car and walked up your path. He looked in all the typical places until he found a small patch of wood from your porch coming loose. Inside was your key. 
So, opening your door and carrying your things inside, he came back for you. 
Unbuckling your seatbelt, he placed one of your arms around his neck before placing his own arms around your back and under your legs. 
“It’s okay. Go back to sleep.”
And you did. 
Shutting the door to his car with his back, he carried you into your house, shutting your front door with his foot before taking you into your bedroom and laying you on top of your sheets. Looking around, he found a basket of blankets just under your window. 
However, as he covered you up, he checked your temp with the back of his hand. You seemed okay. 
Then you reached for him. 
It was only for a few seconds, but you held his hand before your body fell back to sleep. 
Before he left your room, Jake got you a glass of water and left your window on a latch. And then he stayed. 
Kicking off his boots by the door, he locked everything up around your home before laying down on top of the guest bed with a million and one questions circling around his head. 
Why was he your emergency contact? What had happened? Why didn’t anyone else tell him you were in the hospital for, clearly, more than a couple of hours? 
You spent the next two days in and out of consciousness. The hospital told Jake not to worry and that it was a good sign you were sleeping. He’d wake you every couple of hours and give you your tablets. 
And each time, you’d wake up with the same confusion of how and why he was in your house. And then you’d remember. And apologise. And thank him. Before he’d tell you to lay back down and get some rest. 
By the time you came round, you woke up to texts pinging on your phone. 
How could you not tell me you were dating someone?
We SERIOUSLY need to catch up about this when you’re back in. 
Your boyfriend called the school. Why is this how I’m finding out you’re sick?
Get better soon, honey xoxo
Also, don’t worry about the kids. I’ve got your class covered. 
One of your fellow-teacher best friends. You and her had joined the school as teachers in the same year. She had been away on a cruise for the last two weeks. 
Slowly, everything that had happened over the last two days came flooding back to you. They had called Jake. He had come to get you at the hospital. He kept waking you up. Had he stayed that whole time? Was he the one to call your school?
Pulling yourself from your bed and heading to the bathroom, you caught a look of yourself in the mirror. You looked…rough. And also the exact same as you had when you’d left the hospital. Maybe there was a little more colour in your cheeks. 
And you did feel better. 
The room felt still and you didn’t feel like throwing up all your insides out, despite being unable to do so. 
Drying your hands on the towel, you made your way through your home. Things were…tidy. Militarily so. The last time your place, although tidy, had looked militarily tidy had been when your brother had visited you before he got deployed again. 
So, either, he was here now. Jake was still here. Or you had a ghost haunting your house that just so happened to be in the Navy. 
Walking down the stairs, you found a pair of boots at the bottom of your stairs. They definitely weren’t yours. 
Then you heard someone in the kitchen. The smell of fresh bread and chicken noodle soup wafted through your home. 
It was a minute or two before Jake spotted you. It felt like a fever dream, watching him in your kitchen, dressed normally, a towel slung over his shoulder as he slid the bread buns from the tray to a cooling rack. 
“Oh, hey. You’re awake.”
You nodded. “Did you cook?”
��How are you feeling?” Jake made his way over to you, his hand coming to touch your forehead and cheeks. You swatted his hands away. You could have sworn you saw him smile after you did it. 
“Get off me, I’m fine.”
Jake smiled as he watched you make your way to sit down on the opposite side of the kitchen island. You looked way better than you had done when he saw you in the hospital. 
“What day is it?”
“Tuesday.” He told you, continuing to slide all but one of the bread buns onto the cooling back. The final one, he dropped onto a plate before dishing out a bowl of the soup. 
“Eat up. You’re gonna need your strength.”
You looked at the food in front of you. “You made this?”
“I made it.”
You looked at him sceptically. “Is this how you plan to kill me? She was weak, your honour. I just wanted to help her.”
“Why would I take care of you for three days and then kill you? It’d be easier if I did it in three days.”
“So you did think about it.”
Jake rolled his eyes and handed you a fork. “Just eat.”
You couldn’t lie, it was one of the best meal’s you’d had in a long time. And as you ate, you looked around your home. Your books had been tidied away and back onto your shelves. All except two. One you were part way through reading and one that was…almost finished. But not by you. 
You didn’t notice as Jake watched you take everything in. Your books, your pots of pens. You dish towels, your spices and other baking ingredients. Some had even been put into the jars you had been meaning to fill back up. Then you noticed the smaller things. Like how he’d put up the wooden signs in your kitchen you’d been planning to do for months, and how he’d cleaned…everything. 
It looked like he’d done a complete renovation of your place whilst you’d been knocked out. 
Then you noticed the pile of papers on your kitchen counter. 
The English and maths tests you’d given to your class a few weeks ago. You hadn’t finished marking them. 
But Jake had. 
You took the top paper and looked it over. 
“Did you mark these?” You flipped through the pages. Not only were they marked, but they were marked correctly. They even had a sticker on each of “well done” or “great stuff”. 
You heard Jake chuckle. “I am a teacher, too, you know.”
“You’re a…Top Gun instructor. Not a third-grade teacher.”
“I do suppose I am over qualified to help but-”
You shook your head. You hadn’t meant for it to sound so insulting.
“No, I-I mean, thank you. But you didn’t have to do this. Any of this.” You gestured around your home. “You already did enough bringing me home.”
“I wanted to ask you about that. Why was it me that brought you home? Surely you have people who you actually like, to be your emergency contact?”
Tyler watched as you fell silent and searched for the words to tell him. 
“You’re…not.” Taking a breath, you looked up at him. “They…they tried a couple of people. They couldn’t make it. One of the nurses knows Penny so called and asked if she had anyone’s number who I knew. I did try and tell them to just call me a cab.”
He let your words settle over him. 
“Who?”
“What?”
“Who else did you call? Who didn’t pick up?”
You listed them off. Most were people in your family and a couple of friends. 
“I would have fought them on it but-”
“I’m glad you called me.” Jake admitted you. And it struck you. “Give me your phone.”
You slid it over to him. And he called his number from your phone. 
“If anything like that happens again, I want you to call me.”
“Jake-”
He shook his head. “You’re not fighting me on this. Fight me on everything else. Anything else. But not this. Call me.”
So you just nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. And eat up, too.”
You did. “You say that as if we’ve got some place to be.”
“We do.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.”
Twenty minutes later he practically shoved you into your bathroom en-suit telling you to shower and get changed. 
“I thought my nurse was meant to be kind.”
“I am kind!” He said. “And I’m not a nurse. And I’m a friend.”
You laughed a little at that one. 
“I’ve seen the inside of your junk drawer. I’m your friend. I have to be, or else I don’t have a word for it.”
He did have a point on that. Your junk drawer…even you hadn’t seen the inside of that thing in at least a year. 
So, after getting dressed, taking the last of your antibiotic and forcing some kind of health smoothie Hangman had made you with the blender he found at the back of your cupboard, you found yourself back in the passenger seat of his car. 
“Where are we going?”
He said nothing, just smiled and pulled the aviators from his collar and put them on before starting his engine and for a moment you wondered if that was what he did when he got into his jet. Flash his million-dollar smile before starting his jet engine and taking off into the sky. For a moment you wondered what it would be like to watch him land and look over at you just like he did. 
But then you forced yourself back to reality. 
This was Jake Seresin, aka Hangman. Given that name because he hangs his team out to dry. 
But he didn’t leave you. 
In fact, he was the only one to show up. 
And the first to stay. 
You read the road signs as best as you could until you realised where he was taking you. 
“You know there is a beach like ten minutes from my house.”
He nodded. “I know. But you’re there all the time. You’ve seen that patch a thousand times. This is different.”
“How? Isn’t all sand the same?”
He shrugged, still smiling. “Maybe. But they always say the beach can work a thousand miracles. Come on.”
It was a five minute walk to the bottom. 
“Is it usually this empty?”
He looked around. “There’s usually a couple more people, but yeah. This is usually it. Not many people drive this far down. They think it’s not the best but to me…couldn’t be more perfect.”
“Huh.”
“What?” Jake asked, looking at you. 
You continued looking out to the water. You shook your head. “No, nothing. Just…never thought you’d be the sentimental type.”
“Well…I’m not.” 
You looked at him. 
“To most people.”
It was at that moment you felt a small crackle. Either in your chest or your gut, something crackled. And you felt the blanket of hatred you had for Jake Seresin start to fade. 
His call sign might be ‘Hangman’, but you had a strong feeling that when it came to those he cared about…he tried his best to stick around. And even if he couldn’t, he’d make a memory of them to last a lifetime. 
 For the rest of the day, you spent most of your time lying on the beach watching the waves or reading your book, which he had packed. And it was…one of the best days you’d had in a long time. 
“Why are you doing this?”
“What?” Moving the book from his face, Jake looked at you from beneath his shades as you lay on your stomach beside him. 
“This? Less than a week ago I’m pretty sure people would have made money on you and I killing each other. Why are you helping me?”
“Because you need it. And I’m pretty sure anyone else would believe you when you say that you don’t.”
“And you don’t believe me?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I know you.”
You scoffed. “What do you mean you know me?”
You watched as he smiled and tried to kill the butterflies in your stomach. 
“Y/n.”
You were still getting used to the fact he was using your first name. Usually it was your last, or some sweet nickname like ‘Sweetheart’ that would grate through your entire body. 
“You spend most of your time making sure everyone feels okay and is doing okay. The only time you actually let your feelings know is when you’re taking shit to me. You deserve a break. You deserve to take one before your body forces you to have one.”
Hearing his words as he spoke, you slowly sat up until your back was to the water and you were fully facing him. 
“Plus, your brother asked me to look out for you. And I’d rather not suffer his wrath again.”
Okay, that had to be complete bull. Your brother’s wrath when it came to protecting you, that was true. But why ask Jake of all people given he knew your history and track record with him. 
And what did he mean by again?
You barely had time to ask all of your questions before you watched him stand up, throwing his book closed to the ground. You mentally scolded yourself for letting your eyes wander all over him. 
You weren’t blind to the fact Hangman looked, well, like him. A daring smile, enough charm to charm even the most sourest of people and the body to go with it. But before today, you had been immune. At least, you considered yourself immune since the blanket of hatred that you held for him seemed to block plenty out. 
Worst of all, he caught you. 
You knew he caught you because of the smirk on his face and the chuckle that escaped his broad chest. 
“Shut up.” You groaned, forcing yourself to stand. “I’ve been in the hospital. My immune system is temporarily weakened.”
“It isn’t the first time I’ve caught you, Sweetheart.” Seresin drawled just as you looked at him both annoyed and confused. And maybe slightly offended that he thought you had, before today, purposefully checked him out. 
But he just laughed. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
“But what about our stuff?”
“It’ll be safe. I know most of the people on this beach, they’ll make sure nothing happens to it.”
Taking your hand in his, he led you down the beach, under a small cove and through to the otherside where some rocks were covered in seaweed and sand. 
And for a while, you and Jake explored the place. You’d never been this far down the beach so finding out it existed was a bonus. Finding seaweed to pop and watching the crabs crawl across some of the rocks was fun. 
You’d never stop to take a break. Straight out of college, you’d begun teaching. It had been in your home town until your brother got accepted into Top Gun. And, with an internalised fear of losing him, you moved out to San Diego. You knew after a while he’d be stationed somewhere else, but you’d managed to find a home there. And when your brother was stationed not too far from his Top Gun base, the rest of your family moved closer. 
Since then, it has been helping them get settled, tutoring their children after spending all day teaching. It was sleepless nights spent alone at home, living off the quickest food you could make because you simply didn’t have time to cook. It was running yourself so far into the ground that the one person who you never thought would even step foot into your home was the only one to show up and give you enough space to actually relax. 
So watching crabs walk along the rocks was fun. 
And hearing your name, and calling out his name above the waves, without hatred or malice behind it, was fun, too. 
“Come and look at this.”
Carefully, you made your way over the rocks, trying your best not to slip and hit your head. And you did so, until the last rock before you joined him. 
Letting out a small yell as you reached out to try and catch yourself, he threw out his hand and caught you. 
“You okay?”
“Fine.”
“Can you stand?”
You lowered yourself to a lower rock, still holding onto his arms before letting go and allowing yourself to take his hand and help you up the rest of the way. 
“What am I looking at?”
It was a starfish. 
The rest of the day, you and Jake explored the shore, skipped rocks on the calming water, sunbathed and even took a swim in the water. 
By the time the sun had set, you found yourself sitting with him on the hood of his car, a pizza box between you both, watching the planes fly from the airport. 
A week ago, if anyone had told you that you would have done any of this, especially with Hangman, you would never have believed them. 
“Thank you, for your help.” You blurted out as you watched another plane fly into the sky. 
“You don’t have to thank me.”
“Yes, I do.” You wanted him to listen to you. “Given our track record for being nice to each other, I wouldn’t have been surprised if you didn’t turn up at the hospital to bring me home. But you did. And you made sure I didn’t fall into some kind of coma after it. And today you gave me the first day, I think, ever, where I’ve not done a thousand things for somebody else and enjoyed what I was doing. So, I do need to thank you for that.”
“Are you saying…you…like me?”
You couldn’t stop the smile on your face, but you tried to force it away. “Okay.”
“No, no. I mean, this is a miracle.”
“You’re tolerable.” You corrected him. 
Smiling, he took another slice of pizza. “You like me.”
“No, I don’t.”
“You like me. I am now your friend. We are now friends.”
You shook your head, holding in a laugh. “Just shut up and eat your pizza.”
It was safe to say after that, that everyone was shocked at the dynamic between both you and Hangman. 
They had all gotten so used to the insults and borderline flirty comments you’d both sling each other's way, it had become like white noise. So, when it was gone and replaced with laughter and smiling, it gave everyone a terrified feeling. 
“I’m guessing they’re not here yet.”
Penny shook her head as she poured another pint. With a smile, she nodded over to the other end of the bar. “They’re over there.”
Twenty minutes later, it had become like a social study for everyone in the bar to watch you and Jake. 
“Do you think they fucked? Got all that pent up energy out?”
Coyote shook his head. “No, he would have told me. How long have they been like this? Maybe they’ve been hypnotised into liking each other?”
Rooster shook his head. “The hypnotist left like three months ago. Maybe they’re…faking it. Do you think they heard us talking about them last week? About who would kill who first? Maybe they’re teaming up so nobody wins?”
Penny shook her head as she wiped down the bar. “Well, whatever it is, it’s a nice change. She looks a lot happier. They both do. Who knows, maybe next we’ll be holding a wedding here.”
“Not their wedding?” Rooster seemed shocked. “Penny, they were about three insults away from killing each other three weeks ago.”
“Love is blind, as they say.”
For the rest of the night, people watched you and Jake sat together. Seresin and Y/l/n. Hangman and Sweetheart. 
And then they watched as you walked home. 
Together. 
It was safe to say everyone was shocked to their core. For the first time ever, there had been a night where both you and Jake had not only been in the bar at the same time but had also sat together for the whole night, and not once killed each other. 
Verbally or otherwise. 
“You know, you’re not as big of a dick as I thought you were Seresin. Tonight was a nice change.”
“I have been known to be kind once in a while.”
“Keep this up, you might be fit to see another day.”
“So might you.” Jake replied as he watched you climb the steps of your front porch. “I meant what I said, about taking a break. You deserve one, Y/n.”
You took in what he said with a small nod before adding. “You know, it’s still freaking me out, you even know my first name.”
“If it helps, the nurse had to tell me.” He said. “Guess I’ve called you by your last name so much, I forgot your first.”
“Is that why you keep saying it? So you don’t forget?”
He shrugged, a slight smirk on his face. “Maybe. Maybe not.”
“You know, it is okay if you forget it once in a while.”
Jake smiled a little at that. “How could I forget the name of the woman who once dumped three shots of tabasco sauce into my drink?”
“Hey, you can’t prove that was me.”
“Hey, the bottle was in your hand.”
You unlocked your door. “I still plead not guilty.”
“Whatever you say, Sweetheart. Sure you’re okay on your own?”
You nodded. “I’ll be fine. Besides, don’t you have an early start in the morning?”
He nodded. “Even so. Call me.”
“Goodnight, Jake.”
“Night, Sweetheart.”
He waited for you to lock your doors before he got into his car and drove back home. 
The following weeks continued the same way. If anybody who was anybody saw you and Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin together, in the same room, talking. They would stop and watch. 
Never in a million years did anyone expect you and Jake to talk, never mind actually become friends. 
Each Friday, you met each other at the bar. You both have a drink. You’d both sit and talk. Maybe some of your old ways were still there with each other, but there was less “25 to life” about it and more “affection” in the words you both said. 
However, it nearly gave people an aneurysm when they thought you were both actually dating. 
Two people who were thirty seconds away from physically fighting each other every day had gone from, well, that, to…to…to dating?
It couldn’t be…could it?
And the rumours that had been spread by one of the bar regulars, after she’d spotted both of you grocery shopping together before spotting Jake’s car leave from the top of your road hours later, were only fueled when they heard about what happened at the school. 
It had been months since you fainted and you had been getting better. You felt better, you felt like you had more energy. And with Jake’s help you started to feel like a person again. A person who wasn’t wholly consumed by their work constantly, whether they were ten miles from the building or not. 
Except, one morning, you woke up and felt…off. 
Something wasn’t right. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but something didn’t feel right. Maybe your period was coming early. It has been doing that lately. Surprising you when you least expected or wanted it. 
Just a few weeks ago, it had arrived early once again. And the pain you’d felt in the days before nearly floored you. And when you hadn’t showed up at the bar like you’d agreed to with Jake, he came looking for you. That night he’d taken a quick trip to the grocery store after you told him what happened. He looked after you. Made sure you were okay. The next day, he drove you back to the store and you stocked up on supplies and snacks. 
It was also later that night when he surprised you by making dinner. 
Opening up your fridge, you took one of the healthy smoothies that Jake had left you the last time he’d come round, before packing it into your bag and heading to work. 
Your queasy feelings only got worse. And then…you felt it. 
Sticking on a documentary for your class, you took your phone and slowly made your way towards the teachers bathroom, stopping off at the next class. 
“Can you keep an eye on them for a couple of minutes?” 
Your best friend nodded. “Course’ honey.” Before asking her TA to go next door. 
“You okay?”
You tried your best to look okay, despite everything you were feeling inside. 
“Yeah. Yeah. I will be.”
As the TA headed next door, you made your way towards the bathroom, then dialled his number. 
“Hey,” Jake said as he answered. “Just about to call you. They’ve got a showing of The Wizard of Oz tonight at the theatre, if you wanted to go-”
“Jake.”
“Are you okay? What’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it your brother-”
“Every…” You swallowed thickly before carefully lowering yourself onto the floor with your back against the wall, and unlocking the door. “Everything’s okay, it’s just…”
Jake had a strong feeling he knew what was happening. “I’m on my way. Where are you?”
“School bathroom. Teacher’s.”
“Okay.” You could hear him leaving his office and getting into his car. “Is the door unlocked?”
You didn’t answer. 
“Y/n.”
“I’m here.”
Jake breathed. “Y/n, Sweetheart. Is the door unlocked to the bathroom?”
“Yes.”
“Does anyone else know you’re there?”
You explained what happened as best as you could. 
“Just, please get here soon?”
“I will, Sweetheart. I promise. I’m almost there.”
You didn’t know how long had passed but it wasn’t long before you heard your name being called out by Jake. 
Pulling the door open a little from the floor, Jake ran towards it and peeked inside. There you were, sat with your knees close to your chest, against the wall. 
He stepped inside before crouching down. 
“I-I’m sorry I called. I just-”
Checking you over, Jake cupped your face. “Hey, no. No. I’m glad you called me. You can always call me. How are you feeling?”
“Dizzy. It’s better now but still like the room is spinning. And I’m not harnessed in.”
“Okay. Do you think you can stand?”
You gave a small nod. “Maybe.”
Helping you up, Jake took your hands in his and you stood up. 
“Come on, we’re getting you checked out at the ER.”
You would have fought him on it but considering the last time it happened they kept you in overnight, you went willingly. 
Thankfully, you didn’t pass out even when the dizziness and the nausea felt like they were getting worse. 
By the time the doctor saw you, she did all of the routine checks before turning and looking at Jake and back to you. 
“Is there a possibility you could be pregnant? I’ve seen a lot of couples come in here with similar symptoms and-”
Oh shit. 
“Oh, no. I-I’m not. And he’s not-”
“We’re- We’re not together.”
A few more awkward moments like that filled the next couple of hours until both yourself and Jake seemed to give up on correcting people. 
By the time they discharged you, they told you your blood sugar levels had dropped and your hormones were beginning to change with your cycle. Along with the advice to try and reduce stress. 
Driving you home that night, Jake made a detour. Towards the diner and then towards the beach along The Hard Deck. 
It was quiet for a Tuesday evening, but yourself and Jake just sat and ate dinner whilst watching the water push in and pull out constantly across the sand until eventually, laying your head on his shoulder, he placed his arm around your own. 
“Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me.”
“Thank you for calling me. Are you feeling any better?”
You nodded, gratefully. “Just a little tired, that's all.”
“I’ll drop you off at home, soon, if you’d like.”
You nodded then looked at him. And before you could stop yourself, you asked him; “Would you stay with me? Tonight? If you can’t- or if you don’t want to-”
“I’ll stay.”
“A-are you…sure?”
Jake nodded, a faint smile on his lips. “I’ll stay with you.”
You didn’t know what else to say other than thank you, so pressing a light kiss to his cheek, you said as much. “Thank you.”
You could have sworn you saw him blush as he smiled and looked down. “Anytime.”
It was odd really, laying beside the man you thought you’d be telling your kids about when you were older. About how much you hated him and how much he hated you, and why neither of you could sit next to each other at the Thanksgiving table every year. 
Jake had decided to stay in your guest bedroom, but the minute you heard him lay down in his bed, you felt…awake. Not wide awake. You were still tired. But you weren’t settled. Something inside of you wanted to be closer to him. 
So, after an hour of laying on your back, staring at your ceiling and listening to the distant shore line, with the odd rumble of a car’s engine running up and down the road every now and again, you got up. 
Jake had left his door open. If you shouted for him, or needed him, he would be able to hear you. Usually, he’d be out like a light, waking up at the smallest of noises. But this time, he couldn’t sleep. 
Instead, his mind was going over the fact you had called him when you were at work. And the fact that he enjoyed it when you were with him. That he was the one you chose to lean on. And the fact that he wished he was down the hall with you at that moment, then lay alone in the dark in your guest bedroom. 
Then he heard you. 
From the dim, moonlit hallway, he saw you. 
“Hey, everything-”
“Can I stay with you?”
Already half way up, Jake paused for a second. Then nodded. “‘Course. Come ‘ere.”
Walking over, Jake pulled the covers back and you climbed under them before feeling his arm wrap around you. And your arms came around him, one over his shoulder and round his neck, the other by his side. 
Instinctively, he pulled one of your legs across him and held it there whilst his other arm remained securely around your back, holding you to him. 
“Is this okay?”
He felt you nod and he nervously swallowed. 
“Are you okay, Sweetheart?”
In a quiet voice, your breath against his neck, you answered. “Better now.”
Pressing a kiss to your head, you nuzzled into each other. 
“Good.”
Not too long after that, you both fell asleep. 
And when you both woke up, neither of you wanted to move. 
If this had somehow happened six months ago, you probably would have thrown each other to the other side of the room. But it wasn’t six months ago. And you’d come to know Jake as…Jake. Who took care of his friends, and made sure everyone was okay and was kind and caring and…a lot of other things you didn’t want to think about at six o’clock in the morning. 
And the way he was looking at you at that moment made you think about other things that you didn’t want to think about. 
“What are you thinking about?” Jake asked after a few moments of watching you study him. 
“That you need to stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you…like me.”
Jake smiled. “I do like you, Sweetheart.”
“Jake.”
Then, for a moment, everything felt…serious. His tired smile dropped a little from his lips as he looked at you. 
“Do you trust me?”
You felt your heartbeat pick up in your chest and for a moment, you wondered if he could hear it. 
“Yes.”
Tucking your hair behind your ear, you felt him cup your cheek. “Y/n…”
He seemed nervous. 
“Can I kiss you?”
If you had let yourself think about it long enough, you never would have guessed Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, who went after whatever, and usually whoever he wanted, would ask if he could kiss. You’d always assumed that he was so confident in life and with women that he’d know. That he’d see the small signals. Or even the loud ones. And just…kiss a girl. 
But no. 
He asked. 
And something in your gut jumped. 
So you answered; “Yes.”
Nervously, he licked his lips before he leaned in. And kissing him felt…weird. Because it felt…normal. Unlike anything else you’d felt in your life. 
You managed to pull him closer, until he was leaning above you. “Is this okay?”
“Yes.”
From there, the softer, searching kisses slowly faded away and turned into something more. More wanting, more needing. Feeling his hands move down your body before he gripped your hips, and pulled you closer to him and carefully slid them back up until the fabric of your t-shirt began to bunch together. 
Feeling him press into your thigh, you let out a small noise that was only swallowed by his kiss. Swiftly, he pulled you across him, your legs straddling his lap before he sat up. Once more, he pushed the hair from your face and took you in, in the rising daylight. 
No words were spoken out loud, but everything was said. 
Leaning down, you kissed him again before letting your own hands move down his chest and towards the hem of his t-shirt. Except, just as he pulled you closer by your waist, his hips rocking into you, you both jolted at the sound of his alarm. 
“Sorry.” Jake quickly turned and switched it off. You were both going to be late for work. 
“If we don’t get ready now, we’re gonna be late.”
Looking at him, you didn’t know fully what to say. It had just been the hottest make out session of your life, with a guy six months ago people would have bet money on you killing. And you’d both been cock-blocked by his alarm. 
“I’ll meet you here, after work?”
That made you smile. “Okay.”
Then he did, too. “Okay.” Before throwing his phone to the side and pulling you down to kiss him. But as you pulled away, he groaned, trying to pull you back to continue but you walked a good three feet away from the bed. 
“Can’t be late, Hangman. You’ve got pilots to teach.”
With a coy smile, he was standing in front of you within seconds before lifting you onto the dresser behind you. This time, it was you trying to pull him back when he stopped kissing you. But he just stood back and let out a small chuckle. 
“We’ve both got students to teach, Sweetheart. We stay here any longer, they’re both gonna miss us.”
One final kiss to your lips, he stood back and practically ran away before you could grab hold of him. 
Twenty minutes later, he was showered and dressed for the day and had poured you a coffee to-go as well as packed you another smoothie and grabbed your lunch for you before you’d come downstairs, dressed and began loading the last of the exam papers into your bags. 
He dropped you back off at work, however, when you realised he was waiting in the parking lot for you to enter, you left your bags by the pillar and walked back. With his window already being down, you leaned in and kissed him, feeling his hand cup the back of your head. 
“See you tonight?”
“See you tonight.”
The day for either of you couldn’t have felt longer. And by the time Jake came walking through your back door, dropping his bag onto one of the pantry hooks, he couldn’t have been more relieved to see you. 
And for a moment, he just watched you as you sat on the sofa with crossed legs, flipping through a textbook and making notes. Softly, he approached you from behind before wrapping his arms around your shoulders. 
You smiled. 
“Hey, Sweetheart.”
“You’re back.”
You felt him relax against you. “Finally.”
“There’s some food. I made you a plate in the oven.”
He pressed a kiss to your head before walking towards the kitchen. “I would have cooked.”
“I know, but I needed the distraction.”
Waltzing back inside holding onto the warm plate, he smirked as he popped a fork-full of veg into his mouth. You could already feel your cheeks heating and from the look on his face, he could see it clear as day. 
“Distraction from what?”
“Nothing in particular.”
“Nothing, huh?”
At some point, he put down his plate and rounded back to the sofa, standing behind you before pressing soft kisses into the side of your neck. 
“Jake.”
The way you said his name went straight to his dick. 
As he moved your hair, you leaned to grant him more access. A satisfied smirk came to his lips as he watched your legs move to straighten out. 
“I’ve been thinking about you all day, Sweetheart.”
Eventually, you felt Jake move away but he appeared again, lowering himself in front of you. Taking the textbooks and notes from you and placing them on the coffee table behind him, he leaned forward and pulled you in to kiss him. 
“Have you been thinking about me?”
Feeling his hand move up your thigh and towards your shorts, you leaned in closer. “Have you, Sweetheart?”
“Yes,” your voice came out breathy. 
“Is this okay?”
You nodded. 
“I need words, darlin’.”
“Yes. Yes, it’s okay.”
As time passed, the small part of you that was still able to function started to ask questions. Like why you had hated him so much in the first place? And how you almost missed…him. 
And by the time you woke up in the morning, Jake practically wrapped around you like a boa constrictor, you had come to a new conclusion. 
You didn’t hate him anymore. 
You hadn’t hated him for a long time. 
All opinions you had of him, especially after a night of mindblowing sex, had been shot out of the water. 
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was no longer the man you thought he was. The man you had come to know and lo- 
The man you had come to know was a man that showed up. And stayed. He was someone that took care of the people he cared about. He was someone that would fix things in your home without you asking. He was someone that cooked meals, even if it was almost one o’clock in the morning and you were craving a grilled cheese. He was someone that, even after sex, took care of you in a way nobody had ever even thought about doing before. He was someone that you could trust and respect, and did so. 
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was a man that had proved your theories wrong and he was a man that you realised you were falling for. 
And in some ways, that scared you. And in some ways, it didn’t. 
Because, for as much as he could be so sure of himself. So bold. So confident, it bordered on cocky. You were also sure of him. Sure that, if he was feeling the same things you felt, that he wouldn’t let you hurt yourself when you fell, but rather he’d catch you. 
And it, surprisingly, didn’t take him very long. 
By the time you woke up in the morning and headed downstairs, freshly dressed in a worn Top Gun hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts, you started making breakfast. However, as you stood at the stove, flipping the bacon, you felt a newly familiar pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind. 
Dropping his chin to your shoulder, Jake pulled you close to his chest. 
“Good morning.”
“Morning’.” He drawled. “Whatcha’ cookin’?”
“Bacon and eggs. There’s also toast in the toaster.”
With a smile, Jake pressed a kiss to your exposed collar which caused you to let out a small giggle before quickly turning the stove off. 
“You’ve gotta be careful, Hangman. You’ll make me burn breakfast.”
He hummed a response. “I had a couple other meals in mind.”
“Oh really? Like what?”
With his hands on your hips and his lips on your neck where you suspected he’d just left another hickey, he slowly turned you around. “I can think of one.”
Finally facing him, he kissed you as you fumbled with the last temperature gauge and turned it off. Picking you up, he carried you away from the counter near the stove to the one complete opposite. 
“You’re driving me insane dressed like this.” He mumbled against your kiss. “Wearing my shirt.”
“Your shirt?” You asked as his lips moved to your neck. 
Looking at you for a moment, half drunk on your kiss, he nodded. “Didn’t you know, Sweetheart? This here is mine.” Pinching some of the fabric between his fingers he shook it as he told you so. 
You laughed. “No it’s not.”
He nodded. “God's honest truth. Your brother stayed at mine one night after he’d gone out drinking. Lost his shirt, don’t ask me how. Stole one of my hoodies. Never got it back.”
“How do you know this is yours?”
With a smile, Jake showed you the small hole that you’d made a little bigger over the years from when you’d get nervous. “This right here. Loose thread got caught in a cabinet I was fixing in my room. Pulled at it too hard. And…”
Jake watched as your expression changed a little, hungry for more of his touches, as he pushed his hand slowly up the inside of your- his hoodie. 
A slight smirk, he pulled at the side tag and showed you. And it baffled you how you’d never noticed before. 
J.H.S
“See. But, I have to say, Sweetheart. It looks better on you than it ever did me.”
And as he was looking at you, he asked you something else. “Let me take you out on a date. A real one. You know, seeing you like this…I never want to see anyone else like this but you.”
“Jake…”
“I’m being serious. Sweetheart, I want you. And not just temporarily.” Then he looked away as he said the next part. “I’d get it…if you didn’t want that. God knows you and I don’t have the best history when it comes to even getting along but-”
“I want to date you.”
He looked up at you. 
“I want to date you,” you repeated. “Believe me, half of the time I don’t get it myself. How we’ve gone from one extreme to the other, but I know…I know I want you around.”
“I want you around, too.”
“So, yes.”
Jake smiled. “Yes?”
You smiled back. “Yes. Take me out on a date, Jake Seresin.”
Leaning forwards, he kissed you. And before long, your hands started to feel for the hem of his shirt before pulling it over his head. 
It was safe to say, when you and Jake walked into The Hard Deck in the evening after your official first date, hand in hand before he pressed a kiss to your lips, a lot of people were shocked. 
And lost a lot of money. 
But Penny won it all. 
She knew the minute Jake saw you, and your brother scolded him, that something would happen. After all, Hangman was known for going after what he wanted. She just never expected to have to be the one to force you to be in the same room and for that room to be a hospital.
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sp0o0kylights · 3 months ago
Text
“Dustin isn’t coming.”
“What?” Eddie says, all frantic and jovial movements freezing instantly.
His eyes narrow on Lucas--the bearer of bad news. “Why?” 
“Family emergency.” 
Mike makes a face. “I saw his mom yesterday and she was fine, so is this a…?” 
He makes a gesture that is entirely incomprehensible to anyone who isn’t Sinclair and his terrifying girlfriend.
(At least, Eddie thinks Max is Lucas’s girlfriend this week. It got a little hard to keep up after the third break-up-make-up marathon, and he frankly, stopped bothering to try.
It helped that she barely spoke--The only time notable being when Eddie had mockingly asked Sinclair if he needed a cheerleader when she’d first sat in, upon which she’d asked Eddie if he needed new kneecaps with a look in her eye that said she was serious.)
Wheeler Jr.’s gesture however, made her put her book down.
“You think he’s having migraines again?” She not so much asked as demanded, which had Mike shrugging. 
“Dunno." Lucas says. "Dustin didn’t say.” 
“Gotta be, if he called Dustin.” Mike mutters, Lucas shuffling his papers about as he begins to set up for Hellfire. He was the last in the room, practically late, which Eddie had planned on harassing him for had he not announced Henderson’s absence. 
(Fucking freshmen. They just weren’t terrified of Eddie like they used to be.) 
 “Robin must be sick or something, otherwise he’d call her.”  Lucas finishes as he finally sits down. 
“Didn’t the Marching Band go on some trip?” Mike turns to address the rest of the table, and gets nods from Jeff and Gareth both. 
“Yeah they’re marching in some parade in Indianapolis.” Jeff confirms. 
“So his last resort was Dustin?” Max is getting that tone in her voice, the one that makes everyone at Hellfire very uncomfortable. “Typical.” 
She pushes away from the table, making a show of gathering up her things before rising easily to her feet.
Eddie trades looks with the elder Hellfire members as she makes her exit--the kind that says they’re all going to be talking about this later. 
They knew their freshmen had some weird obsession with the former King, of course, but Mayfield too?
What the hell was up with that guy?
At least Eddie thinks, right before things are once again shot to shit, they can go back to playing the game.
He can make it work this early into things, and if Henderson isn't’ a fan of what he’s about to do to the kid’s character in his absence, well. 
Maybe he shouldn’t be fucking absent then. 
“So what, Max, you're gonna go over there and make it worse?” Mike snorts. 
Fatal mistake.
Eddie almost strangles him for it, if only because it prolongs this entire unnecessary conversation. 
Max performs a military perfect heel turn, coming straight back for Wheeler Jr., which makes him right about fall out of his seat in panic. 
“What was that, Wheeler?” 
“I’m just saying--!” 
“We don’t know Steve’s having migraines.” Lucas reiterates, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Maybe it’s something else.” 
“Does Steve get migraines a lot?” Grant asks, because despite all appearances he’s a terrible gossip and gets sucked in far too easily.
Eddie throws a pencil at him for it. 
“Hel-looo, we have a game!?” He thunders, but unfortunately for him, precious Stevie-Weavies headache now has everyone’s attention. 
“Yeah, though he’s really good at pretending he doesn’t.” Lucas answers with a put upon sigh. 
“There’s a whole pattern--he ignores it until it gets super bad, then he has to call Robin or Dustin to come get him when he inevitably gets stranded at work or the like, grocery store.” 
“Well who else do you think he’d call?” Mike scoffs again. He does a lot of that, when discussing Harrington. “It’s not like his parents are--Ow, Max!” 
“Close your mouth before I close it for you.” She hisses and Mike, shockingly, does just that. 
To Eddie, she says; 
“Your ass isn’t any better, or did you forget I live across from you?” 
Eddie--who had an insult primed and ready--promptly shuts his mouth.
(Fucking! Asshole! Freshmen!) 
“Maybe I should go too.” Lucas says, hedging a look between his girlfriend and his DM. 
“No.” She snaps, pointing a finger at him.
 “If you go, then this idiot,” she flicks her finger to  Mike, “will go and then we really will make it worse. Stay here before your bichon frise has a fit about all his sheep abandoning him.”
Then she’s turning on her heel again, storming out. 
“What the hell’s a bichon frisé?” Gareth asks in the aftermath, frowning. 
“It’s a type of ahhhh--” Jeff clearly thinks better of the explanation, eyes sliding to Eddie.
Who’s scowling.
“I know what a bichon frisé is, Jeff.” He snaps. 
“I don’t.” Grant loudly complains. 
Jeff attempts to both calm Eddie and explain while Mike and Lucas spend far too many minutes looking after Max. 
“Enough!” Eddie howls, temper finally getting the best of him. “Are we playing or do you also need to go sit by the King’s bedside?”  
“Thank you,” Mike says, like he wasn’t a third of the entire problem. “Let’s play!”
They make it about ten entire minutes before getting knocked off track again. 
In fairness, not that Eddie would ever admit it--the second meltdown is his own fault.
xXx
Hellfire is Eddie’s domain. 
It’s one of the few places where he could relax without getting harassed or hounded, and having his freshmen--his!--abandon him for King Fucking Steve had set him off. 
So he’d made a few comments about it.
Maybe introduced an NPC who sounded suspiciously similar to Harrington, only to instantly kill him off. 
Made another couple of nasty comments. 
Who cares? It worked him through his snit rather nicely, and his boys all knew to leave him be.
Except, apparently, for Lucas. 
“Dude, would you lay off?”  The kid finally snaps, pencil slamming down on the table. 
Which is the most backbone-like thing anyone has ever heard Sinclair say, and he gets far more whistles for it than he should.
Eddie pins him in place with a glare. 
“What was that Sinclair?” He snarls, voice as menacing as he can make it.
(It’s pretty terrifying, he’s practiced quite a bit with it.) 
Sinclair flinches, but doesn’t back down. 
“I said lay off. Steve has migraines because of--” He stops, before seeming to come to a decision. “Because of me. He took a hit for me, and I owe him a life debt for it.” 
To Eddie, he says; “You get what those are, right?” 
Mike rolls his eyes. “It wasn’t just for you--”
“That time with Billy was!” Lucas is quick to snarl. “But you know what Mike, you’re right. It wasn’t just for me. He T-boned a car for all of us!” 
Sinclaire is on his feet now, which is the unfortunate moment that Eddie realizes he has once again lost control of the room. 
A situation he firmly blames on Steve Harrington, because he’s petty. 
“Or did you forget that part? That’s you, me, Will, Nancy and Jonathan right there! Nevermind the tunnel. Or the junkyard! 
“We had the junkyard handled--”
Lucas scoffs. 
“We absolutely did not.” 
“I don’t get why you’re all making such a big deal out of this. He’s the fighter. That’s what he does. That’s why we brought him to the tunnel.”
“You recall what happened at Starcourt, right?” Lucas challenges, furious. “You did see him after, right?” 
This, finally, seems to shut Mike up. 
“Shouldn’t you be mad at him for that?” He says after a moment, and the rest of Hellfire has completely put aside all actual gaming to watch this play out with a morbid sort of fascination. 
Eddie allows it, only because he’s trying to breathe the way Wayne taught him to before he loses it entirely and throws both of the idiot kids out of the drama room. 
“He pulled your sister into it.”
“Have you met Erica!? You can’t pull her into shit!” Lucas spits furiously. “That wasn’t D&D, Mike. It was the Upsi--real life.” 
Lucas is quick to correct himself, even in the heat of the moment--as all the kids are, like the entire school hasn’t clocked that they have some weird ass secret they’re terrible at hiding.
“And if we’re playing those games, then who pulled him into the tunnels? Who made him come to the junkyard?”
“Dustin.” Mike says snidely. 
“You don’t get to blame Dustin when Steve was the only person around.” 
“There were people around! They just weren’t people who--weren’t--who couldn’t--”
“Finish that sentence.” Lucas demands 
“Be trusted.” Mike spits out, like it hurts him. 
“Exactly.” 
“El went through way more than Steve ever has! El--”
“El was using her po--doing mage things! And also, she shouldn’t have had to go through all this shit either! We can’t rely on her to save the day every single time, Mike--and look at how hurt she gets!”
“She--”
“She hides it from you, you know. How bad she hurts. Cause she wants to put your feelings first.” 
“I--”
“Will does too.”  Is Lucas’s parting shot. His backpack is in his hands in a blink, papers and character figure shoved wildly into it, before he’s storming out the door in a poor mimicry of Mayfield.
“Harrington T-Boned a car?” Grant says, in the resounding silence. 
“That BMW of his hasn’t had a scratch on it--” Jeff says, with an inquisitive tilt to his head. 
“He didn’t use the Beamer.” Mike interrupts, angry and sulking. “Are we playing or not?”
“I’m gonna say not, given we are down two players.’ Eddie tells him through clenched teeth. 
“I’m going to be so mad if Steve doesn’t have a migraine.” Mike grumbles, as he begins packing up his stuff. 
The rest of Hellfire follow his lead, after one look at Eddie’s face convince the lot of them that it’s best to flee now, before Eddie unleashes all his pent up rage. 
“Not as mad as I’ll be, Wheeler.” Eddie promises darkly.
And it is a promise--because now, he’s going to follow all his stupid (sans Mike, who isn’t in his good graces either but at least stayed) freshmen--and go visit one fallen King.
If Harrington doesn’t have a headache now, he will when Eddie’s done with him.
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vivid-vices · 2 months ago
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the way chuuya immediately looks down at his shoe with that curiously hopeful look on his face is the cutest thing in the world. "i don't care about dazai at all" chuuya, my guy, you want his approval of your fucking shoes
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