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waitimcomingtoo · 3 months

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Come See About Me

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Synopsis: Tom realizes he got you all wrong and slowly falls as he learns more about you during the press tour

Masterlist

“Oh shoot. I’m press with Y/n all week.” Tom said as he read an email from his team.

“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked him.

“Not necessarily. I just don’t really know her that well. She was super reserved on set for the few days I shot with her. I wonder why they paired me with her.”

“Well, you’re the same age, right? The movie team probably just want to start romance rumors for publicity.”

“I don’t think that will happen. I barely got to know her during filming. I doubt anyone will see chemistry between us.” Tom replied. He started pacing around his hotel room and felt uncharacteristically nervous for the day ahead.

“Well for your sake, let’s hope you don’t see chemistry between you either.” Harry snorted.

“How do you mean?” Tom frowned.

“You know how messy relationships in the public eye can be. Just don’t go falling in love with this girl, okay? I do not want to watch you pine after your dark and mysterious costar.” Harry warned him.

“Psh. I won’t fall in love with her. That would never happen.” Tom scoffed and continued scrolling through his phone. He ended up on Instagram and saw that you had recently posted a photo. It was just a simple selfie in your hotel room which was probably just a few doors down from Tom’s. He found himself smiling and gave the photo a like. He may not have gotten to know you on set, but there’s no reason he couldn’t get to know you now.

“But if I did, why would that be bad?” Tom asked as he deep stalked your Instagram.

“The way I see it, there are two outcomes if you choose to pursue her. Option one is you get swept up in the excitement of promoting the movie and start reading into every little interaction between the two of you because that’s what the public is doing. So you convince yourself you’re in love with her and maybe she’ll even convince herself of the same thing. But once the press tour is over and you get to be with each other without any reason or purpose, you realize you never actually liked each other. And that’ll just end up breaking both your hearts. Even worse if only one of you realizes you never actually liked the other. God. That would be a nightmare.” Harry shivered.

“Okay.” Tom said slowly. “That was oddly specific. So what’s the other outcome?”

“You fall in love with her on this press tour and then it ends before you get a chance to tell her. So she flies off to film another movie and you’re stuck kicking yourself for not being honest with her sooner. And I’m stuck watching you whine about it.” Harry said simply.

“Or, hear me out, secret third option.” Tom proposed. “I fall for her and she falls for me and we have a great relationship. And maybe it lasts and maybe it doesn’t. But at least we gave it a shot. That could happen, right?”

“Maybe. But either way, she’s getting on a plane at the end of this press tour. And you can’t fall in love with someone who’s worlds away. Remember that.” Harry reminded him.

“I’m not gonna fall in love with her.” Tom insisted.

“Promise?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Promise.” Tom said weakly. He looked at your picture one more time before shutting his phone off.

The next morning, Tom got into a black van that was going to take the cast to the building where the interviews were taking place. You got into the car shortly after with a huge smile on your face that Tom had never seen before. You were in a nice dress and full glam already, unintentionally earning yourself Tom’s full attention.

“Good morning.” You said enthusiastically as you sat in the seat beside him. He was slightly taken aback by how friendly you were being since he had only ever seen you being quiet and reserved.

“Oh, hello.” He smiled in surprise. “Good morning to you too, darling. How are you doing?”

“I’m really excited for today.” You admitted. “I haven’t done a big press tour like this before. I know they can be a little boring and repetitive but I can’t wait.”

“Yeah. These tours are pretty crazy. You get to see a lot of amazing places which is really cool. But you also get to answer the same question 100 times a day for a month straight. You’ll learn the highs and the lows pretty soon.”

“I’m ready for it all. But thanks for the warning. I appreciate any tips I can get.” You chuckled.

“You’re welcome. And don’t worry. You’ll get used to waking up at the crack of dawn and having a bunch of people you’ve never met poke you with makeup and hair stuff.”

“When?” You asked through a yawn. “Because I have a full face of makeup on before my brain is fully awake and it feels so very, very wrong.”

“Not soon enough.” He sighed. “I’ve learned to stay half asleep while the nice ladies apply my concealer.”

“Oh, so this complexion isn’t natural?” You teased and pointed to his face.

“Nope. You’re not the only one in full glam right now, darling.” He humored you, making you laugh.

“Careful. You don’t know if you can’t trust me yet. I might sell that piece of bad boy information to a news site and get you exposed.” You warned. It was Tom’s turn to laugh and he felt amazed that he had never seen this side of your personality before.

“I hope you don’t. I was just about to say that I’m glad I can share your first big press tour with you but now I feel we may have begun an enemies arch.”

“No. We can’t be enemies.” You whined playfully. “Because I was gonna say that I’m glad you’re here too. You always seem so relaxed and funny in interviews. I’m really hoping I don’t come off as nervous as I feel today.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t. It’ll feel just like a conversation.” He assured you. He was pleased to know you were a watcher of his interviews and wondered what else he’d uncover about you that day.

“Thank. I really appreciate you helping me with all this.”You said sincerely.

“It’s no trouble. If you have any other questions, just ask. I’ll help wherever I can.” He told you.

“Thanks, Tom.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and suddenly remembered what Harry had said the night before about not falling in love with you. Tom was just one conversation in and already struggling to keep his promise.

Once the van arrived at the building, you and Tom had makeup touch ups and were then sent into the junket room.

“Wow. I haven’t seen the poster yet.” You gasped and touched the poster with gentle fingertips. Tom watched you admiring it and smiled when he saw how proud you looked.

“You look good up there. I hope to see you on more posters.” He said and nudged you slightly.

“Like in Playboy?” You asked and looked insulted.

“What?” Tom gulped. “No, no, no. I didn’t-“

“I’m just messing with you.” You cut him off and nudged him back. He felt his hearts too racing and cracked a smile.

“You really had me for a second there, darling. I didn’t realize you had such a sense of humor. I guess I never heard you say much on set.”

“Thats because I found it hard to shake my character after filming all day. I guess I’m not used to separating that yet. I loved my character and all but I’m so glad to be done shooting her. She’s so dark and dramatic. It really affected my mood on set.” You told him as you both sat down in your chairs.

“Oh, wow. So you’re not quiet? You were just in character?”

“Quiet? I’ve never been described as quiet.” You laughed. “I was just in my emo phase on set because the material I was shooting was so dark. It bummed me out all day.”

“But you’re not bummed out today?” He asked with a coy smile.

“Fuck no. I’m ready to party.” You whispered to him just as the journalist came in. He burst out laughing at the unexpected expletive and earned himself a look from the journalist.

“Well alright then.” He chuckled.

That was the first of many times you made Tom laugh that day. The more interviews you did together, the more he learned about you and your personality. He paid attention to every anecdote and personal story you shared and was more and more fascinated each time.

When it came time for day two of the press tour, he could not wait to get back in there with you. The interviews were in the hotel that day and Tom got to the junket room first. When you got there, you handed him a hot cup of tea.

“For you.” You smiled and sat beside him. Tom looked at you curiously and you gestured for him to sip it. He took a sip and widened his eyes when he tasted it.

“This is exactly how I take my tea.” He said incredulous.

“I know. I was listening when you ordered at breakfast yesterday.” You said proudly.

“Thank you, darling. I really appreciate that.” He smiled fondly at you before taking another sip.

“Well I wanted to thank you for all your help yesterday.” You smiled shyly. “I was really nervous yesterday until we talked in the car. You made my first press day really memorable. So I did the normal courtesy of eavesdropping on you and brought you your favorite tea.”

“That was very kind of you. And you made my day yesterday a lot better than I was expecting so I should be thanking you too.”

“Then I’ll loudly tell someone else my favorite way to drink tea so that you can eavesdrop and surprise me.” You joked as the journalist walked in.

“How are you guys doing today?” The journalist asked to start the interview.

“I’m doing really well now that Y/n brought me tea.” Tom answered and took another sip.

“I’m also doing really well but because Tom didn’t bring me tea.” You said and looked at Tom to see if he found it funny.

“Why would that make you happy?” He laughed.

“Because I hate tea.” You shrugged.

“What? Don’t you know that is the worst thing you can say to an English person? And you just told me you had a favorite tea.”

“That was a joke. I actually hate tea.” You admitted.

“How can anyone hate tea?” Tom asked in exasperation.

“It’s just like hot, flavored water. I don’t understand what’s good about it. I hate soup too.“

“Soup too?” Tom gasped and pretended to clutch his petals.

“I think soup is so nasty. Why would I ever want to eat hot blended food?”

“If you hate soup and you hate tea, then what do you do when you’re sick?”

“I watch Fantastic Mr. Fox under my covers like a normal person.” You answered, making him laugh.

“This is very disturbing information to learn so early in the morning. You’ve surprised me, darling.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” You shrugged with a laugh.

The next day, Tom was pleased to see you already waiting in your chair for the interview to start. You were texting on your phone but looked up when he came into the room. Your makeup artists was touching up your lipstick so you couldn’t smile at him and opted for a wink. He found himself blushing at the wink and sat beside you.

“Morning, darling.”

“Good morning. No tea today?” You teased.

“I’ve already had my tea, for your information. I chugged it while I got my makeup done.”

You laughed but he wasn’t actually kidding about getting his makeup done. He was just happy that it made you laugh. Your makeup artists finished up and you checked your makeup in your phone camera.

“You look pretty.” Tom said before he could stop himself. You looked over at him in surprise before smiling.

“Why, thanks. So do you.” You said and shot him another wink. He blushed and looked down at his lap at the compliment.

“God, I’m gonna be thinking about lunch this entire interview.” You whispered to him.

“You didn’t eat at the craft service table?”

“I can’t eat that early in the morning.” You waved your hand. “It makes me nauseous. Now I’m wishing I did though. My kingdom for a cheese stick.”

“I hate cheese.” Tom grimaced.

“What? Even in stick form?” You asked him.

“Even in stick form.” He humored you. “And you can’t judge me because you hate the two most comforting foods on earth.”

“I’m judging you so hard right now.” You mumbled. Tom laughed as an idea came to him.

Before your next interview, Tom made a quick stop at the bakery across the street. You were already in the room waiting to start by the time he got back. He quickly fixed his hair before holding out a little brown paper bag.

“For you.” He said with a bashful smile.

“What is this?” You asked as you took the bag.

“Open it.” He said as he sat beside you. You gave him a curious look before opening the bag.

“Scone?” You gasped and looked up at him.

“Scone!” He smiled proudly.

“You got me a scone? Why?” You wondered and took the stone out of the bag.

“Because it was easier to find than a cheese stick.” He chuckled.

“I love you.” You cupped his chin before taking a bite of the scone. Tom froze and felt his face turn bright red at your words. You realized he had gone quiet and looked over at him.

“Sorry. Was it too soon to say that?” You asked with a mouthful of scone.

“I think so. Aren’t you supposed to wait three months?” He chuckled and touched a cold hand to his burning face.

“Too bad. The introduction of the scone sped up our relationship and now we’re in love.” You shrugged and took another bite. Tom laughed again and looked down at his laugh.

“So, uh, speaking of our relationship. Have you seen the way fans have been shipping us since our last few interviews hit the Internet? How weird is that?” He said and forced a laugh. He didn’t actually find it weird, he just wanted it see how you felt about the possibility of a relationship.

“I was actually deep into the fan edits last night to be perfectly honest with you.” You said through a laugh.

“Were you?” He asked in surprise.

“I was. And I heard that we’ve been secretly dating since May. Did you know that?”

“I did. I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry, darling. It must’ve slipped my mind.” He played along.

“That’s okay. I can’t be mad at you since you blessed me with a scone.”

The journalist came in once you had finished your scone and the interview began. Tom was barely paying attention to the questions and only focused on hearing your answers. He loved that he wasn’t getting to learn new things about you that he was too shy to ask.

“Unpopular opinion?” The journalist asked.

“A lot of people think cats are girls and dogs are boys but the real take here is that all seagulls are boys.”

“Woah, what? What makes all seagulls boys?” Tom asked you.

“A girl would never act like that.” You said simply, making Tom laugh.

“My unpopular opinion is that Y/n’s best movie is Look Mom, No Hands.” Tom said, making you burst out laughing.

“I know you did not just bring up my Disney Chanel original movie from when I was 11.”

“Yes I did. Because I watched it last night and I cried when you made the winning goal even after your glasses broke from the soccer ball hitting you in the face.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “The drama.”

“It was! The opposing team totally kicked it into your face on purpose because they knew you were the underdog. But nevertheless, she persisted. You made the winning goal and your team won the championship.”

“Wow. Way to spoil my movie from 15 years ago. And why were you even watching that?”

“Because I needed to know who I was working with everyday. It’s a part of your lore. Now that I know you’ve starred in a DCOM, I know I can trust you.”

“I was not the star. Bridget Mendler was the star. I was just the quirky best friend.” You reminded him, making Tom laugh.

“Well you were the only one I was looking at, okay darling? You were the star for me.” He said as he looked over at you. You smiled at his answer and nodded your head.

“Good answer. Favorite snack?” The journalist asked.

“Oh no. You’re gonna think I’m weird.” You smiled sheepishly.

“What? I could never, darling. What is it?” Tom asked and turned in his chair to face you.

“I put mustard on popcorn.” You grimaced.

“What the hell?” Tom’s nose scrunched in disgust.

“See! I knew you’d think I was a little freak.”

“Mustard? On popcorn? Why would anyone do that?”

“You’re thinking it’s worse than it is. Yellow mustard on lightly salted popcorn is really good, okay? Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“You’re gonna have to make it for me. Because I cannot imagine it’s good.” Tom shook his head.

“If I can get my hands on some mustard during this press tour, I will be at your door in a heartbeat.”

“It’s a date.”Tom replied, making you smile.

“It better be.” You answered, and he returned the smile.

Tom was fully in it now. Every second that he wasn’t with you, you were the only thing on his mind. You started spending your evenings together and grabbed dinner every night after your interviews. He was falling fast and getting worse and worse at hiding it. He posted a photo of the two of you that the paparazzi had taken while you were out to dinner and captioned it “I’d wait out in the cold all night just to take pictures of her too”. He tagged you and it wasn’t long before you were in his comments saying “he’s so obsessed with me it’s honestly embarrassing”. He smiled at the comment and wrote back “yes, and?” before going to bed.

The press tour was coming to an end and on the last day, Tom walked into the junket room to find only one chair in the room.

“Oh. No Y/n?” Tom asked his manager.

“Nope. Solo interviews today.” They replied. Tom faked a smile and sat in his chair. He hoped his disappointment wasn’t as obvious as it felt as he gave the interview alone. He did a few more solo interviews throughout the day and eventually got to his last one. It wasn’t long before the door opened up and you walked into the room with Tom’s water bottle.

“Hi. I’m crashing. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and walked into the room.

“That’s quite all right. Do you want a chair?” The journalist asked you.

“I’m good.” You smiled politely and sat on Tom’s knee. He immediately blushed and looked up at you.

“What are you doing here, darling?” Tom grinned.

“I finished early so I brought you juice.” You said and handed him the water bottle.

“What? No way.” He smiled in appreciation and opened up the water bottle to see apple juice inside.

“Juice!” You cheered.

“Juice!” He echoed. “Thank you, darling. What a nice surprise.”

“Well I had to get you back for the scone.“ You told him.

“So Tom, I have to ask about your Instagram post from yesterday. You tagged Y/n in an interesting place, Tom. Care to comment on that?” The journalist asked now that you had joined the interview.

“He tagged me there because it’s where you can usually find me.” You chuckled.

“Wait, I’m lost? Where did I tag her?” Tom asked. You and the journalist exchanged a look before you pulled out your phone to show Tom his own post from the night before. He had accidentally tagged you right on his crotch, making him turn red when he saw his mistake. And when he pieced together what you meant by what you had just said, he turned even redder.

“Oh my God. I swear, I’m just Instagram stupid. I didn’t mean to tag her there.” Tom explained.

“Yes he did. He tagged me in my location. Because that’s where I am.” You kept up the joke just to tease him.

“Where?” The journalist laughed.

“On Tom’s dick.” You shrugged. Tom covered his red face with his hands as you and the journalist laughed.

“People know that about me. If they can’t find me, they don’t ask “hey where’s Y/n?” because they already know where I am. It’s my happy place. My sanctuary. My home away from home.” You continued.

“No. No more. My mum watched these.” He playfully scolded you.

“Hey, you started this.” You reminded him.

“And I’m ending it.”

“Actually, I’m the one who has to end it. That’s all the time we have. Thanks guys.” The journalist said. The last interview was done, meaning the press tour was officially over. You stood up and adjusted your skirt before looking at Tom. He smiled softly but felt his disappointment return. The tour was over which meant today was his last day with you. He knew you’d keep in touch, but it would never be like this again, and that’s made him sad.

Instead of wallowing in his sadness, Tom did something about it. He stopped by the corner store before making his way to your hotel room. In his way there, he ran into his brother Harry. Harry took one look at the bag of popcorn in his hands and knew what was happening.

“You fell in love with her, didn’t you?” Harry snorted.

“Shut up.” Tom groaned. “I can still fire you.”

“You did the one thing you said you wouldn’t do. Now look at you. One your way to eat the most American combination of foods I have ever seen. You’re a disgrace to your homeland.”

“I couldn’t help it, okay? She made me fall for her. It’s all her fault, really. Now leave me alone. I have a girl to surprise with a disgusting snack.” Tom said and went on his way. He took a deep breath before knocking on your door. You opened your door for him and he held up his bag of supplies.

“Hey, you. What’s this?”You raised an eyebrow.

“Mustard and popcorn. You little freak.” He said with a teasing smile. Your lips curved into a smile as you stared at him.

“Get in here.” You instructed.

He went into your room and shut the door behind him as you poured the bag popcorn into two bowls. He did his best to hide his disgust as you squirt mustard over them both.

“Here. You’re gonna love this.” You said as you handed him his bowl.

“It smells like mustard.” He grimaced.

“Well, that’s 50% of the ingredients.”

“Okay. I’m doing it. I’m eating one.” He said and popped a mustard covered piece of popcorn into his mouth. You watched him as he chewed it and could tell he hated it.

“Well?” You asked.

“I’m gonna throw up.” He answered.

“Spit it out.” You laughed.

“No. You like this so I’m gonna force myself to like it too.” He said a begrudgingly swallowed the popcorn. You laughed at him but your smile slowly faded and you looked a little upset.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling kinda down tonight.” You told him.

“You are? What’s bothering you?”

“I guess I’m just sad the tours over. I don’t like when things end.” You admitted with a sad smile.

“I’m sad it’s over too. They usually exhaust me but I don’t know. I particularly enjoyed this one.” Tom replied sheepishly without meeting your eyes.

“You did?” You asked as you ate your popcorn.

“I did. Mostly because I enjoyed getting to know you.” He admitted and finally looked up at you. You smiled in surprise and scooted closer to him. Tom gulped and looked down at his lap. The tour was officially over so if he didn’t want you to get on a plane without ever knowing how he felt, he was gonna have to speak now.

“You know, before the tour started, my brother made me promise that I wasn’t gonna fall for you.” Tom admitted.

“What?” You laughed softly. “Why would he make you promise that?”

“I don’t know. He said it would only end in two ways.” Tom said and looked into your eyes with a sheepish smile.

“Which were?” You wondered.

“We get caught up in the excitement of the movie so we start a fling and then breakup when the tour ends.”

“Well that didn’t happen. So what was the other option?”

“I fall for you and never tell you. And the tour ends and you get on a plane and I regret it for the rest of my life. But I guess that option didn’t happen either since I told you.” He said as he never dropped your gaze. You stared into his eyes for a moment as you processed what he had just admitted.

“Well, what if there was a secret third option?”

“Secret third option?” Tom asked with intrigue.

“I mean, just because the tour is ending that doesn’t mean it has to be the end of you and me, does it?” You said and leaned in even closer.

“It doesn’t?” He gulped at your close proximity.

“I don’t think so. And look. You bought me food. That makes this is our first date.” You explained as you held up your bowl of popcorn.

“Well I’m happy to hear that but don’t expect a kiss with your mustard breath.” Tom mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“What was that?” You played along.

“I said you’re so pretty and I have a giant crush on you and want us to be together.” He said quickly.

“Much better.” You smiled and popped some popcorn into your mouth.

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823 notes · View notes

damianbugs · 7 months

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with all this gotham war stuff (most recently the comic sc you posted on your twt with jason and bruce), can u explain what is actually going on? like, i’m not that far so i haven’t read it, but… like is it actually bruce saying all that stuff about the kids? or is it this zur person people keep talking about?

oh my friend, it's crazy around here, but i will try my best to explain it!

A GUIDE TO UNDERSTANDING WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING TO BATMAN IN GOTHAM WAR:

firstly, the comic reading list to catch up with gotham war is: as of 01/10/23 (the ones in italics are core issues to the story)

for some background on what happens leading up to gotham war:

Batman (2016) #125-136

(Optional) Knight Terrors: Batman

(Optional) Knight Terrors: Catwoman

and then the actual gotham war story:

Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Battle Lines

Batman (2016) #137

Catwoman (2018) #57

Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Red Hood #1

this is everything that is out right now, but from the third of october to halloween we will also be getting: Batman #138, Catwoman #58, Gotham War: Red Hood #2, Batman/Catwoman: The Gotham War - Scorched Earth.

secondly... who is Zur En Arrh.

Zur En Arrh taking over Bruce, Batman (2016) #126

zur en arrh, in the simplest way of explaining, is this alter ego/personality (it's unclear) bruce created for himself should batman (bruce wayne) ever be psychologically compromised or brainwashed. it's not him, but a more sadistic and crueler person that is the "ultimate batman" who doesn't care about anyone or anything but getting the mission done.

during Batman #125-130, zur takes over the role of batman because bruce was losing very badly to the robot Failsafe (which is zur's own creation, that bruce has no memory of making). after getting vaporised by failsafe and sent travelling through dozens of alternate universes, losing his hand and fighting a flying shark (Batman #131-135), bruce returns to gotham incredibly mentally unstable.

During a peaceful dinner with his family, Bruce suddenly imagines the entire world on fire, Batman (2016) #136.

during everything, bruce managed to mentally fight back and kind of... merge their ideals together in order to survive and win in the moment.

and then successfully trapping failsafe back into his mind where he can no longer take over!

Bruce uses some sort of mental technique to lock Zur away in his mind, Batman (2016) #136.

except he didn't succeed! at all!

you see, when travelling through all those universes, bruce somehow brought back every single version of zur en arrh with him. now all of then combined, plus his already deteriorating and weak mental health from the last few years, bruce is currently operating under the impression that he's locked zur away, when he actually hasn't.

zur is the one partly, or even entirely, in control. right now, he's just pretending to stay locked away so bruce continues to do what he thinks is 'right' despite them being incredibly out of character for the run.

During his eight week coma, Bruce sees Zur 'locked away' and he is, apparently, not alone, Gotham War: Battle Lines (2023)

an example is when zur referred to robin as batman's solider, bruce mentally fought back to make it clear that tim was his son. but then, a few issues later, bruce refers to his children as his soldiers and that they've all betrayed him, implying that zur has always had control and isn't locked away.

Bruce and Zur get into a fight inside his mind about Robin [Tim Drake], Batman (2016) #127

so yeah, zur is not bruce! they're both batman, but zur en arrh is like his somehow unimaginably even worse twin. if you're interested more in him, i would suggest giving his character history a read! be warned it gets changed A LOT and is definitely not everyone's cup of tea (personally i hate him and need him shelved for another forty years).

now that that's all done and explained, the current state of gotham war is Bruce (thinks he's okay) fighting everyone else (except Damian) because in his (Zur's) point of view, they're all against the mission and therefore are now his enemies (he's lost his mind). totally not convoluted.

to answer your original question, yes, this is all bruce saying and doing these things but he is being HEAVILY influenced by Zur. we can't tell for certain how much of this is bruce and how much is zur, but we can definitely prove zur is partially or completely controlling him again.

even jason points it out after bruce implants that fear toxin chip into him in Batman (2016) #138:

like we can see the intention is to keep jason out of this, because compared to everyone else, jason was the most directly opposed to bruce. but zur is twisting how this concern gets expressed, since forcing jason into feeling fear everytime he gets an adrenaline rush is hardly the reformation bruce is usually encouraging. the other batfam members also talk about how uncharacteristically violent bruce is being.

"He's out of control." / "He's gone [In more ways than one.]" Batman (2016) #137

as the story progresses we see more and more of zur replace bruce, but because he can't have bruce trying to stop him again, zur is playing along and convincing bruce he's locked away. so really, bruce is at war with not only his entire family, but also his own mind. just another average tuesday for batman. he's being tricked and is unknowingly doing exactly what he was trying to prevent.

to understand what the actual war in gotham war is, give the comics listed above a read! if you find the story boring/ridiculous/stupid, don't worry, it is! the social commentary leaves a lot to be desired, as does most of the characters writings (especially selina's).

bruce and his one sided battle with zur is sort of an overarching story happening alongside it (along with a bunch of other ongoings. i don't even understand how detective comics and batman and robin are going to tie into this once it starts up again).

sorry the answer isn't a simple one, but unfortunately nothing is ever simple with bruce. also apologies in advance if any of the future gotham war comics come out and completely debunk all of this! who knows what will happen in this dramatic family drama.

#bruce wayne #gotham war #dc meta #saki anons #saki comic talks #i have such a toxic relationship with this run #i have nothing but complaints and hate for it #but its so terrible i cant wait to see how it all crash and burns #the most “it gets worse before it gets better” storyline for batman i have EVER seen

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theehoneeybee · 6 months

Text

Talking In Your Sleep. Chapter 1.

Talking in Your Sleep - Blue Monday

The new security hire doesn't realise he's in deep. There's more than just abandoned arcade games and dusty decorations at Freddy Fazbears Pizza.

Mike Schmidt x fem!reader

Word count: 2.2k

a/n: I haven't written in like a year but the fnaf movie altered by brain chemistry. this series is cross posted on my ao3. lmk what you think!

series m.list

next part >

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

The halogen lights flickered, lighting up the black grey room, it's peeling walls covered in fake-motivational posters. Dream Big! Work Hard! What bullshit. Mike bounced his leg anxiously. Yet another job gone because of his temper. That was the third one this month. At this point, he had spent more time at the career councillors office than at an actual job.

"Number 27," the receptionist called out drearily.

Mike grabbed his jacket and made his way to the councillors office, already dreading the outcome. This councillor wasn't one he had met before. He swivelled around in his chair, skimming through Mike's file with a less than pleased expression plastered on his face. Amongst his cluttered desk strewn with paperwork from the hundreds of others looking for work was a black and gold name tag. Steve Raglan.

"What is your deal Mike?" he asked, gaze not lifting from the manila folder. "What are you, some kind of headcase?"

Steve reads aloud the incident which landed Mike in his office. It was all a misunderstanding. Mike had seen a confused, lost young boy wandering through the shopping centre, so when a strange man dragged him away, he couldn't sit idle. Of course, he should have talked to the man first instead of immediately brutalising him and traumatising his poor son in the process. He knew that. But at the time, all he could think about was protecting the boy. The loss of Garrett eats away at him. Steve lists out his past jobs. One week. Terminated. Two weeks. Insubordination, terminated.

"It's like you're not even trying, yet you sit before me asking for help," Steve sounded almost amused. "I'm just trying to figure out who you are, Mr Michael Sch-"

Steve's expression changed. He rereads the last name printed on the page, glances up at Mike, staring at him with an unreadable expression. He gets up to pour himself a cup of coffee with shaky hands and a furrowed brow.

"I'm going to be brutally honest with you here Mike. Given your track record, your options are gonna be extremely limited."

"I'll take anything. Any job you've got," Mike bargains but Steve insists it's not that easy. Defeated, Mike gets up to leave before Steve quickly speaks again.

"I have a job for you." Mike sits back down. "It's a security gig. Full disclosure: it's not great. But you only have to worry about one thing, keeping people out. And well, keeping the place tidy but-"

"That's two things," Mike interrupts.

Steve shrugs. "Do you want the job or not?"

"How's the pay?"

"Not great, but the hours are worse," Steve explained with a smile.

Mike's expression fell, rubbing the back of his neck. He muttered out, "I can't do nights."

Steve chuckled. "That's such a shame." As Mike got up to leave, thanking him, Steve gave him his card.

"In case you change your mind."

The roads were always empty at this time of the night. Your car hummed quietly as you made your way to work. 11:48pm, the clock read. These night shifts had really messed up your sleep schedule. You yawned, pulling into the parking lot and stepping outside. The icy breeze ran straight through you, the cheap security vest doing little in the way of warmth. You hugged it tighter to yourself, eager to get inside and escape the cold. Immediately you were hit with the smell of dust and rot, something you had become familiar to over the past weeks. You navigated through the pizzeria, kicking broken glass from the many break-ins out of your way. Even with the curtains drawn shut, as you passed the animatronic show stage you could feel eyes burning into you. The whole place gave off an unsettling vibe. When you had gotten the job, they explained to you the owner was sentimental which is why he kept the place up, rather than demolishing it. You couldn't understand why. As you entered the security office, you grabbed a chair and wedged it under the door handle. It had become routine. Doors would randomly open and more nights than not, footsteps could be heard down the hallway. Yet, you never saw anyone there. You sat down in the cracked leather chair, booting up the monitors to begin yet another long shift.

You swivelled around in your chair, trying to entertain yourself. Every room in the pizzeria was decked head to toe in cheap Freddy Fazbear merchandise. It left a sour taste in your mouth. As a child, you had spent countless hours in the pizzeria against your will. Instead of paying for childcare, or taking time off work, your parents would just dump you at the pizzeria. After school, weekends, whenever. From open to close. On more than one occasion, you had tried running home only to find the house locked. It was only once you started getting older they gave up on the pizzeria, leaving you at home instead. It was almost ironic that you chose this job after all the time you had spent here, but money is money. On the plus side, you never had to deal with annoying co-workers or rude customers. One by one, the hours slowly ticked by. Tonight was quiet. No sounds of footsteps or random clanging. Everyone was right in their place. Some nights you could've swore you had seen Foxy move. The curtains to Pirate's Cove didn't close properly, allowing you to see inside. Maybe you were just sleep deprived, but one night, about a week ago, it looked like foxy had moved and was staring directly down the camera. It was like they knew you were there. But after you had rubbed your eyes, he was back to normal. The second the clock struck six you were out, avoiding staring at the show stage as you rushed out the door.

Mike stared at the phone, idly toying with the business card Steve had given him the day before. He couldn't work nights, that hadn't changed, but he was at a point were that was his only choice. Aunt Jane was trying to take custody of Abby, citing Mike's inability to care for his younger sister and lack of employment. As right as she was, Aunt Jane was a bitch, and there is no way Mike was letting her take custody of Abby. Mike turned around to look at Abby who was sat in front of the TV, drawing as always. Abby didn't talk to Mike much, too absorbed in her drawings and conversations with her imaginary friends. He sighed and dialled in the number, holding the phone up to his ear as he waited for Steve.

"Hello?" The crackled voice through the phone answered.

"Hi Mr Raglan, it's Mike."

"Mr 'I can't work nights'." Mike could hear Steve's smirk through the phone.

"Right. I was just wondering if that job is still available?"

"Oh, it absolutely is. Why? Have you had a change of heart?"

Mike turns around again to look at Abby. "How soon can I start?"

As you were getting ready for work, the phone rings. You answer it, holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder as you struggled to lace up your shoes. "Hello?" you asked.

"Hi, it's Steve Raglan," the man replies. Shocked, you grab the phone properly and sit up.

"Oh, Mr Raglan. What can I do for you?" You prayed to every God in existence that he wasn't firing you. As little as the job paid, you needed every cent.

Almost like he was reading your mind, Steve replied, "Don't worry, you're not in trouble. But, we are making some changes to the job." You listened anxiously. "We've hired another security guard. Given how big the place is we thought you could use an extra set of hands. He's starting tonight so you'll have to train him but I'm sure you guys are gonna have no problem." Before you could protest, Steve wishes you a good night and hands up. You groan, leaning back in the chair. The solitude was one of the very few things you enjoyed about this job and now that was taken away from you. You snatched your keys and left, slamming the door behind you.

As you drove the the pizzeria, you wonder what kind of person was desperate enough to take this job. Well, you, but who else? You arrived in the parking lot at the same time as your new co-worker. As soon as he stepped out of the car, you noticed how tired he looked. His dark hair was messy and bags hung heavy under his eyes. He definitely didn't want to be here. The two of you walked silently to the door. You glanced at him and introduced yourself as you unlocked the doors.

"I'm Mike," he replied, barely looking at you. Okay, rude.

You let him inside and began to give him a rundown of the job. "It's not that hard," you explained. "Ninety percent of the time you're just sitting around watching the monitors. Occasionally I'll clean stuff up or go investigate a noise, but there haven't been any break-ins so far."

As you walk past the show stage, Mike peeks behind the curtains. You smirk and decide to give him a fright. You press the big, red Showtime! button next to the stage. Immediately, colourful lights illuminate the room and loud 80's music plays as the curtains draw back. Mike steps back in shock, watching as the animatronics on stage start to sing and move about. He shoots you a look of annoyance for scaring him. The show is cut short by the fuse box tripping, the lights flicker off and the curtain draws.

"Amazing, right?" you say sarcastically. "The power here is pretty shitty. If it goes off, there's a breaker. Just flip it off and on and it should work again."

Mike stayed silent as he followed you to the security office. He watched you curiously as you wedged a chair under the door.

"It's just for safe measure," you explain. He gives you a half-hearted nod and investigates the office. You sighed. It was going to be a long night if this is what he was like.

You turned on the monitors and showed Mike how to use them. The technology was old and half of the buttons were jammed and caked in dust. It didn't take Mike long to figure out how it worked.

"I'm gonna do a check of all the rooms. Just keep and eye on the cameras and give me call if you see anything," you said. Mike gave you a quite okay, keeping his eyes on the screens. You left and wandered through the abandoned pizzeria. As bad as it sounded, you didn't think he would last. Why was he so unfriendly? Nothing you had said or done was mean yet he was so standoff-ish. The building groaned and the old lights flickered. From down the hallway, you heard a hum. It sounded like someone singing. You stopped in your tracks, pointing the flashlight down the hall. You never heard anyone come in, but something about the song didn't sound human. It was familiar, something you had heard before. You slowly walked away and snuck back into the security room.

"You okay?" Mike asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah..." you trailed off. "Yeah I'm fine. Did you see anything on the cameras?"

Mike shook his head. You sighed and slumped down into the chair. You must just be tired.

It was only 3am. You looked over to Mike who was barely awake. "You can sleep," you offered. "You look really tired."

"I'm fine," Mike insisted but you narrowed your eyes.

"These shifts will ruin your sleep schedule. Try get some while you can."

Mike chuckled. "It's ruined enough thanks."

Your eyes caught onto the book on the table. Dream Theory. Curious, you picked it up and skimmed through the pages. You looked up at Mike with a slight smile. "I didn't expect you to be into this stuff." Mike looked embarrassed.

"Apparently, everything you ever hear or see is stored somewhere in your mind," Mike began to explain. "You can access them through your dreams when you use familiar sights and sounds," he paused. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"

That was the most Mike has said all night. You shook your head. "I think it's cool. I don't really get it, but it's cool." He looked surprised by your response.

Slowly, your shift came to an end. The sun was slowly starting to rise. You were ready to crawl into bed and sleep for the rest of the day. Mike looked like he felt the same. He intrigued you. yes, he was closed off and honestly a bit rude, but there was definitely more to him than he lets on. The metal of the gate was freezing against your hands as you locked up the pizzeria, your breath visible the the cold morning air. Mike tucked his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, squinting as the bright morning sun beams into his eyes. As your make your way to your car, you give Mike a small wave.

"I'll see you tomorrow night."

He nods and you think you almost see him smile. "See you tomorrow."

#mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #abby schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #william afton

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midnightarcheress · 28 days

Text

and they said speak now

it's no use, i just love you. pairing: simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader cw: nsfw bits. angst (with comfort?). sad yearning simon. sad yearning reader (in denial). enemies to... something. reader is part of tf141. no use of y/n. part 1 | part 2

Simon hasn’t heard from you since that catastrophic day.

the day he turned your life upside down. the one in which he ruined your wedding, blurted out a hushed love confession, and broke your heart by spilling the truth about your ex-fiancé. the day he watched you walk away in a tear-stained wedding dress, without the certainty that you would ever come back.

how much time does someone need to process all of that?

the following weeks felt like years. the days were unbearable, drowning in paperwork in a frantic attempt to keep his mind from sulking on his actions, possible by the strange lack of assignments during the period. did the terrorists take a break? his other option - admittedly the one he would spend most of his time doing - was staring at the ceiling of his quarters for hours as his body created a permanent indent on the mattress, a perfect tailored grave for his crestfallen soul.

the nights were even worse. he kept dreaming about you. sometimes it was warm, you snuggled in his arms, back pressed firmly against his chest while you fidgeted with the fingers interlaced with yours and he planted kisses on your shoulder, your neck, your cheek. sometimes it was ugly, your eyes shooting daggers to his heart and your enraged voice piercing through his eardrum in another daily fight, taking a toll on his mind like a frightful PTSD flashback.

sometimes it was erotic, his eyes savoring the view of your bouncing tits and beautiful flushed face whilst he pounded every inch of his cock in your tight cunt, filling the room with your pretty moans and pleas as he guided you to your third orgasm. sometimes it was horrifying, hearing your agonizing screams and watching you being repeatedly shot while he tried to rush to your position, without ever actually moving his feet, only adding your body to the long list of people he had failed to save.

no matter the scenario, it would always end with Ghost jolting awake to heart palpitations and heavy breathing, struggling to get a hold of himself. as much as your presence would drive him to madness, your absence managed to make his brain spiral. went down an endless rabbit hole and missed every chance to grasp the flimsy rope of reality.

he thought about calling. almost did a few times, glaring at your name on his contact list but never pressing the button, especially after nights out in the pub with Soap. “what ye gonna do about it, Lt? think the lass is gonna give ye a chance?” but in truthfulness, he didn’t know what to say; no words were enough to describe how guilty he felt and how sorry he was. he just needed to hear your voice. know that you were okay, or at least, alive and breathing.

no one really knew how you were, where you were, or when you’d be back; Price only stated that you extended your honeymoon leave for an indefinite amount of time. despite being your captain, he wasn’t going to question your necessity for serenity, after all, he was there when your life crumbled apart - one minute Simon was quiet on his seat, the next he was standing in the middle of the church, twisting the team’s perception of your strained relationship and leaving their jaws in agape.

while Simon deteriorated in remorse, already grieving the lost possibility of you ever being his, you made use of the no-refund policy of your honeymoon trip. a week in an all-inclusive resort by the beach, enjoying the crystal clear waters and the too-many-to-count cocktails to numb your achy heart that almost made you wake up in different rooms a few nights.

still, the only thing the hotel didn’t include on the menus was peace. as much as you tried, your mind kept reliving the wedding over, and over, and over. the memory of Ghost standing up and daring to violate your sacred moment, the sight of his wide eyes when he confirmed your doubts about your then-partner, the troublesome twinge in your chest as he begged for a chance to love you - a relentless feel you’ve been carrying everyday.

seven days at an alleged paradise were not enough to cleanse your spirit. the light waves of the ocean cradling your body couldn’t soothe your distress, as the deep end seemed to have a higher draw on you, luring you to a darker place where you could wallow without shame. misery loves company, i guess.

despite your best efforts, the following weeks were equally bleak. while you managed to maintain your focus out of your own life during the day, the dark blues of the nightfall outlining the nature’s silhouettes seen from your flat’s balcony only brought back the daunting awareness of duty. you couldn’t hide forever. it was time to be back.

your footsteps echoed in the base hallways as you made your way to the conference room, anxiety pooling on your insides and almost making you empty your stomach right there and then. in a way, it was nice to finally be back at work, fingers itching due to the need to hold a rifle and unload an entire cartridge at the first target that comes into sight. in another, you were dreading the idea of coming face to face with your friends after that disastrous day and, more importantly, dreading the inevitable confrontation with Ghost.

your frame on the doorway interrupted Price’s speech during a long awaited briefing for the team’s next mission. the atmosphere in the room suddenly got heavy, crisp air filling your lungs as four pairs of eyes glanced in your direction, taking your unforeseen arrival with the same shock as if you were a mythical creature.

“good to have you back.” the captain said, gesturing to you to join the reunion.

with a silent greeting, your legs made their way to a seat around the table, avoiding the prying looks as much as possible but ultimately failing. their watchful gaze dawned on you like cars slowing down next to an accident site, everybody stopping to see the wreckage and pity the poor life stuck in the rubbish.

but there was one set of eyes in particular that never shifted. without even facing him, you could feel Simon’s glare boring into your figure, urging you to turn your head in his direction, pleading for an ounce of awareness. his heart was beating rapidly for the first time in weeks, your presence being enough to send him to an overdrive and to turn Price’s words into white noise in the background.

in the milliseconds in which Simon looked away, you were gone. the briefing didn't last long and you decided not to linger around after it ended, fleeing the room in a hurry to avert any conversation. he was hoping for an opportunity to check on you, to talk, to explain. to pour out his feelings once again, without the pressure of trying to stop you from getting married, wishing that the time you spent apart was enough to earn at least some compassion from you.

running away from him again almost made you feel like a coward. you had always been able to stand toe to toe with Ghost, rebutting each of his snarky statements with even more venomous remarks, not caring if it would ever truly affect him. he didn’t act like it did. but in that moment, you couldn’t shake the anxiety that dominated your senses.

after years doing it, you knew that working out was a great stress-reliever and you didn’t hesitate on heading to the training room. focusing on a repetitive task that exerted your body to maximum was the easy way out of the teetering breakdown crawling its way to the surface. the sound of dull blows on the punching bag ricocheted in the empty area as you cleared your brain of any thoughts regarding him. it had been a while since you exercised, but instead of getting tired, each punch only gave you more energy, the sting on your fists only fueling your anger to the brim.

“careful there.” the gruff voice filled the nearly silent room and made you startle, quickly snapping your head towards the entrance. Ghost’s tall frame was leaning on the doorway, eyes carefully watching you as you furrowed your brows at him.

he takes a few steps in your direction, easing his way into your eyesight like a stray puppy who just wants a home. you simply choose to ignore him and go back to the punching bag, pushing aside the desperate need to ignite that fire again, to feel the fireworks bursting your chest the same way it did when his warm tongue swirled around yours.

“can we talk?” he asks, searching your eyes for even a hint of compassion but being met with nothing but a cold silence, “please?”

“no.”

your tone is harsh, grating his ears as you keep your stance, landing countless jabs in the sack. Simon is quiet, observing the intensity of your moves and how you don’t flinch despite having sore knuckles at this point. probably imagining it’s my face, he thinks, glancing around the room until his gaze falls on the sparring mat, getting the gears of his brain turning.

“let’s fight then.”

that stumps you and makes you raise your eyes. “what?”

“if you don’t wanna talk, let’s fight. we’re good at that.” he says, already stepping on the mat and stretching his arms, preparing himself for the match.

“i’m not gonna fight you, Ghost.” your eyes roll at the proposition.

“scared of getting your arse beat?” he teases, reminiscing the way he’s used to treating you. he knows you never back off from a challenge, especially coming from him, no matter how insane it sounds. you’re aware of his size and how easily it’d be for him to break you, even with your skills in single combat, but you can’t prevent your blood from boiling at the mocking undertone of his question.

without another second of doubt, you follow him to the mat, making small jumps to get your limbs loose and your blood circulating. his attentive gaze never leaves you, happily taking in your rage over the recent apathy with a pleased grin plastered on his face, the first genuine smile he has in days. at least it’s something.

the first move is his, throwing a quick blow at your head, which you swiftly avoid by stepping back. you’re determined to not let him win, your competitive side always overruling your better judgment. but you are even more determined to not allow him to let you win.

grunts and thuds fill the air as you exchange blows, each strike hitting harder than the previous. “i’ve missed you.” he says, lunging forward to kick your side. you roll your eyes in annoyance, but it’s truly exciting to finally have an adrenaline release in your organism, even if it means confronting the emotional turmoil threatening to spill out of your throat.

“when?” you ask, retaliating his kick with a jab in his midsection.

“when what?” his head tilts to the side, not understanding your question for a second.

his ears perk up as the sound of your screams muffles the gunfire around him. you had managed to disarm the soldier on top of you after being stabbed in the stomach, but the gushing laceration in your abdomen was getting the best of you, blood pressure dropping as a bullet pierced through the man’s skull.

Simon rushes to your side as soon as the lifeless body hits the ground, seeing your blood pooling on the concrete. “bloody hell.” he mutters, quickly applying pressure on the punctured point. your eyes roll as the pain increases, making you struggle to stay awake.

“don’t you fuckin’ dare die on me! keep your eyes open, come on,” he urges, gently tapping your cheeks to keep you conscious while he blasts the comms requesting an urgent medevac, “yeah, just like that, you’re doin’ so good for me,” he coos as your blood stains his ungloved hands, “no no no, come on, please, stay with me, you can’t-”

you use his moment of distraction at your advantage, landing an intense punch on his jaw. he stumbles back a couple steps, already sensing the metallic taste on his tongue. at that, the suppressed anger he’s been keeping under covers during your missing weeks comes to top, hot magma erupting like an exploding volcano. he aims for your stomach. your legs. block your arms. you dodge it barely, but he keeps going.

“the time you almost died in my arms,” he finally answers, gritting his teeth. he’s an enraged man, tackling you to the ground and firmly gripping your hands, pinning you to the mat. you grunt at the movement, heavy breathing hitting his neck as he leans even closer to your face. “you can’t tell me that you don’t feel it too. it’s there. everytime we’re together.”

Ghost’s masked face hovers over yours as you struggle to breathe. you don’t hear the shots around you anymore, only Price’s voice in the comms telling him that evac is two minutes out. you glance at your surroundings, barely processing the sight before falling unconscious again.

your brain shuts down, but somehow you still feel his touch. despite the adrenaline and his familiar roughness, the hand stroking your cheek carries a tranquilizing softness you didn’t expect. a light at the end of the tunnel that guides your way back to the living plane.

your eyes flutter open in the medbay, after feeling a sharp pain on your ribs. Ghost is sitting on the chair near the bed, unaware of your awaken state, looking out the window. his face is still covered, but you catch the slight twitch in the corner of his eyes - you’ve noticed it always happens when he’s too focused on something. you wonder what goes through his mind at the moment. yours can only recall the cracks in his voice as he held you in his trembling arms and pleaded you to stay awake.

“i don’t,” you lie, glaring at his hazel eyes. of course you feel it. the fucking fire that scarred you from the minute you had your first fight. the flame that etched his initials on your chest and marked you forever as his, even if you can’t fathom the idea of belonging to a man like him, “get off me!”

your restless squirms help you free yourself from his grasp, pushing his bulky figure to the side while simultaneously striking multiple punches on his chest. and he just takes it. he indulges your wrath, blissfully accepting your blows with nothing but tenderness. your vision gets blurry as you break the remains of his armor, stripping him of the faint defenses still guarding his heart.

he feels the power of your hits weaken when a teardrop rolls from your cheek and falls on his face. not enough to put out the wildfire devouring his soul whenever you’re near, but enough to turn it into a peaceful bonfire, whose cracks soothe your aches like a lullaby. he takes your wrists in one hand while the other reaches for your face; loving eyes, once so cryptic, gaze at the storm behind yours, signaling that it’s okay. it’s okay to feel it.

you sink into his burly arms, bathing in the heat radiating from him. for the first time, you don’t see Ghost, the shadow that haunts your nightmares and the shell of a broken man, you see Simon. the faceless man in your dreams, the one who understands you by one look, the one that fuels your deepest desires - it being a hunger for love or for lust - and still inflames all of your anger.

“come on, love,” he says, pulling up to his feet and extending his hand in your direction.

your knuckles are hurting, partially from the blows on the punching bag from earlier, partially from your rampage against his body. you take his hand and he guides you out of the mat, sitting you on top of a table. furrowed brows meet his half smile, as he positions himself on a chair in front of you and starts tending your bruises.

“i guess it has always been there,” he says, delicately holding your hands and cleaning the drying blood from it, “the feeling. buried way underneath. i didn’t understand it in the beginning, you’d drive me so insane i couldn’t even look at your face.”

you recall your first encounter with Ghost, feeling the tension of his icy glare penetrating your bones, freezing you on the spot. but somehow also feeling your chest filling with a warmth you’ve never had before. the missing puzzle piece finally returning to its place.

“i know you feel something. the intensity is there, in each bloody fight, everytime we're together, in or out of the field. i’m electrified whenever your hand brushes against mine. i’ve been dull for so many years of my life, and then you came-”

“Simon.”

your sudden interruption makes him stop talking. he raises his eyes from your sore hands to your irises, seeking for a hint of recognition. “this could never work,” you say, letting out an exhausted sigh “you know that.”

yes, he knows that. but he is also not one to evade conflict, especially with you. he doesn’t care how much trouble it’d be to make a relationship with you work. doesn’t care if you wanna change everything about him, put him in a tiny little mold where he obeys your wishes and barks at your command. hell, he’d gladly wear a collar if it meant having you as the one pulling the leash. he’s tired of concealing his emotions behind the persona. he wants you to see him for what he is underneath the pain, the trauma, the rage. only Simon.

the man who craves your proximity, your presence by his side as he lays down to sleep and every morning when he wakes. your sweet scent, your soft skin, your sparkling eyes. the one who craves your touch, reaching for every inch of his body and bringing him closer to the heaven gates in a way that no religion could. the image that feeds his most terrible nightmares and his brightest - and most obscene - dreams.

“we clash all the fucking time. as much as i hate to say it, we’re too alike, too stubborn, we’d repel each other like magnets, we-”

“yes,” he interjects, leaning closer to your face, “we are too alike. that’s what makes us good. tell me i’m not crazy. you irritate me so much because you always know what i’m thinking. what i’m feeling. my weaknesses are all at your display even when i don’t show it. you know exactly which buttons to push and which to leave alone.”

the skull balaclava covers most of his face, but you don’t mind, his eyes are the most important part. they’re familiar. you know every crease at its corners, the place of every single one of his lashes, the nuances of the color. you’ve studied them several times, trying to decipher the enigma of Ghost. you’ve gotten good at it, so his words are true. you know him. know him too much to consider the idea of being together, because the mere possibility of losing him would maim you forever.

“we're too similar because we’re two sides of the same coin. each side with its singularity, markings, engravings, but still part of the same thing, destined to be together, intertwined. two flames meant to combine, to heat each other, become one,” the faltering in his voice surprises you, but you don’t see it as a sign of bad faith. his vulnerability is a breath of fresh air after years of unbreakable security, “can’t you understand it?”

silence.

Simon senses his defeat with your hesitance. there’s no use. he goes back to patching up your hand, finishing the bandages as if it’d seal the wounds he opened on you with his actions. years of pent-up aggression planting the doubt of his true affection for you, and there’s no one else to blame but him. is there really no use at this point? the muscle inside your chest is beating loudly, threatening to burst out of your chest, but the logical part of your mind is still screaming to take back control. it’s a worthless tug of war. the brain may be astute, but it can never outsmart the strength of the heart.

“Simon.” he doesn’t dare to gaze at you, even with your saccharine voice tempting his eyes, too adamant to give more of himself in a seemingly hopeless situation. your hands move from your lap to cup his jaw, forcing his head upwards to meet the smile on your lips. it’s small, timid, soft. laced with something he’d never seen on your face but filled with the confidence you always exhibit. love.

“so,” you breathe deeply, “what now?”

took me so long omg but i think i'm finally happy with it. hope you like it. was listening to 'no use i just do' by hayley williams when i got to the end and i feel like it sums up a bit of the feelings.

also, if you see an error, no you didn't. my brain is all mush now.

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thesoftboiledegg · 4 months

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"Fear No Mort" was constant whiplash. In fact, I struggled to evaluate this episode at first because it was one twist after another. Throughout the episode, I had flashbacks to "M. Night Shaym-Aliens!" (the rap scene might've been a direct reference) and the Rickbot reveal in "Ricktional Mortpoon's Rickmas Mortcation."

For better or worse, season seven's had a lot of callbacks and episodes that mirrored previous ones: "That's Amorte" played out like "Mortynight Run"; "Air Force Wong" brought together Dr. Wong, the president and Unity; "Rise of the Numbericons: The Movie" was a "Get Schwifty" sequel.

Seasons six and seven have also piled on the fanservice. The first four seasons stubbornly refused to give us what we want, dangling fan theories or a gentler Rick in our faces before yanking it away. Rick started to change in season five, but it's another ten episodes before you get Rick in a suit and tie, Rick announcing that Rickcest is canon, Rick regularly going to therapy, Space Beth joining the family and other content that's floated around the fandom since 2017.

And let's not forget the big one: C-137 Rick and Morty, Prime Rick and Evil Morty in one episode, fighting and teaming up after we saw Evil Morty's once-forbidden backstory.

Some call it cheap thrills, but I call it a gift to the fandom that's patiently waited for the fakeouts to end. And now that I've said that: "Fear No Mort" was one giant fakeout.

But was it, though?

This is the most unpopular opinion in the world, but I'm not invested in Rick and Diane's relationship. As a gay woman, I just don't connect with opposite-gender couples. Also, I dislike the trope of the idolized dead wife that the audience only learns about through her widower. She's not her own character, just an extension of the male protagonist.

When the fake Rick and Diane reconnected, I thought "Oh boy, this is getting cheesy." They're falling for each other again: check. Rick feels guilty about her death: check. We see how similar they are: check. Rick doesn't want to leave: aaaand, check.

I'm also a little lost after the ending. Morty was the only one in the hole, so why did we see all these scenes from fake Rick's perspective? Was an NPC really that busy?

How much we learned about Diane is debatable, too, since Morty never met her. I guess his ideas came from whatever Rick's told him and maybe the ship's voice since she's based on Diane.

I did like how the episode kept reminding us that Morty's still in the Fear Hole. I mean, we didn't know that, but we knew that. No "Are they in the Fear Hole or not??" until all the twists in the third act.

Aside from that, I don't want the show to revisit the past too much because Rick needs to let go. If you're a Marvel fan, you saw the backlash to Steve Rogers traveling back in time to spend a lifetime with Peggy in "Endgame." He had a life in the present, but he refused to move on.

Nostalgia makes us yearn for earlier years, but if Rick abandoned his family to live with Diane in another reality, I wouldn't call that a sweet ending. I'd call that a disappointment and a waste of his character.

Turns out, Rick never had that option at all.

Well...in a way, he did. And when Morty told him what he saw in the Fear Hole, Rick ran back to the restroom. He looked into the hole. He thought about it. And then he did what I wanted him to do, which was walk away. In this moment, he chose the present.

Admittedly, Morty's fear came true: Rick didn't jump in the hole after him, he did just sit there and watch, and he didn't want to say that Morty's irreplaceable out loud. Plus, Rick was bewildered when Morty hugged him. But for the first time, instead of standing stiffly or gently pushing him away, Rick started to hug him back.

We also saw what Morty didn't: Rick smiling to himself after hanging up the picture of Morty that he kept in his wallet. He had the chance to wallow in shadows of the past, but he didn't take it. Rick chose him.

"Fear No Mort" could've ended with Rick just saying "Let's go" and leaving, but it didn't. Seasons one and two Rick would've bitched and moaned about Morty taking so long. Season three Rick would've left him there for a while to torment him. Season four Rick would've found a way to take advantage of this.

But seasons five, six, seven? That's real character development. That's what all the Twitter users saying "Wow, Rick and Morty is actually good" have been missing out on.

And for the first time in the series, a season didn't end with Rick relapsing or getting a (well-deserved) ass kicking. Is Morty going to get the grandfather that he deserves? Or will he move on, too, now that Rick's releasing his iron grip? Speculating is fun, but for now, let's focus on today.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #diane sanchez #fear no mort #season seven #review

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decolonize-the-left · 9 months

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I hate democrats with all my very heart but I can't in good faith advise to vote 3rd party in these hell years when they would see every trans person hang and be off hormones. When the transphobia is not at its height (Eg, like. a few years ago) I would 100% agree with you, but the stakes are too high. If the states falls to transphobia, even more countries will follow it. I think it's harmful to consider not voting D this upcoming election. Once they got off tihs current bend, I could get behind where you are coming from.

"this is helpful and not lacking critical analysis at all"

"if the states fall to transphobia"

Where have you been?

GA & VA are blue states this year btw. It's gotten worse since May and and April, too. The mid terms didn't save anyone.

Also if you, the person reading this, have considered voting 3rd party pls know it's not nearly as unpopular or as unlikely of a win as Democrats want you to think it is.

People would vote for a good 3rd party candidate, actually.

Dems convincing you its a long shot is absolutely a self-preserving psyop hoping to convince you otherwise. Its a half-assed theory that blatantly denies what we learned from 2016 and can still see in polls.

And that's 3rd party candidates stand a shot of they can get in the primaries for the general election. People want progressives. People were pissed and turned to voting for Trump when Sanders fell out- not Clinton.

They need and want another option and it's not a long shot or unlikely. They just need to make it to the primaries.

Enter Cornel West

Cornel West is not running as a Democrat and thus does not need to battle Biden for a spot on the general ballot in November of 2024....

✨ Which gives you and all your friends plenty of time to learn about him ✨

So here are some of his policies and also his campaign site

I'm a decolonial anarchist that hates the state and sees voting as nothing as upholding the state. I make no room for Democrats because Democrats lack the ambition to challenge anything about it.

But unless Cornel West drops out or ends up being some awful closeted abused... Im going to vote for him.

A lot of his politics and campaign goals align with my politics. I wouldn't feel like I was settling if I voted for him.

And a lot of this stuff isn't unreasonable or unrealistic either. Like I just made a post about how the NDAA budget proposal for 2024 is being increased with enough money to solve clean water, homelessness, and implement free college tuition for the whole USA. And Republicans are fighting for more.

And that's just the budget for two years, it'll probably be increased by another hundred billion in a couple years. Nobody blinks when the military budget is swelling like that.

But we should when we can be using that kind of money to solve real problems that real people are having and face and would change lives literally overnight. They just throw that money at the military where most of us never see it again.

But this stuff can be real.

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riacte · 4 months

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🥁 Welcome to the first ever "Choose an unhinged Renchanting moment" ✨ALL STARS EDITION✨!!! 🥁

In which winners of the previous nine (!!) polls and the Last Life burning tower scene will battle it out for ULTIMATE UNHINGED RENCHANTING MOMENT!! Deliberately made to cross over from 2023 to 2024 to wish for a new year full of Renchanting <3

If you don't want to read my lengthy and dramatic sports guy commentary you can skip to the poll right at the end.

Now, let's introduce our beloved competitors! With some clips sponsored by @ani-craft, thank you as always <3

Starting from Round 1, the OG, the beginning of this series in Feb 2023— congrats to "Ren calling Maidtyn "very very sexy" completely unprovoked"!. Now, fellow Tumblr users, this is a historical moment because the Maidtyn trend was the Tumblr response to Martyn being active on Tumblr, and it snowballed into the Mint Mistletoes of MCC19 wearing skins of maid dresses (and a butler suit). This is the tangible impact of the Tumblr fan community on MCC. And of course it's about maid dresses.

Round 1 was quickly followed up by Round 2, and narrowly winning by FOUR votes is... [drumroll] "r/place (2022) when Martyn helped place a pixel of blush on RK Ren"!. Truly a chaotic moment that somehow became a highlight even in the overall chaos of those few days.

But the numbers really peaked in Round 3, aka. the Limited Life edition when Martyn's lore stream repeatedly dropped bombs on us. 100% of these moments are from Martyn, by the way. But which unhinged moment was the most unhinged? Which moment will win like Martyn? Unsurprisingly, the most popular option are those two words that basically sum it up— "UNGUIDED HAND". An unhinged moment that won with a whopping 404 out of 1913 votes.

Things did not calm down after Limited Life. Some might say the moments only became more unhinged. 2.5 months after LimLife ended, Round 4 began. Most of these moments are also from Martyn. Most unhinged of all: "Martyn declaring in a low voice: 'Third Life never ended for me'." Yeah it sure didn't, buddy.

Fast forward to September 2023. Treebark Week 2023! Surely the perfect moment for a poll! Also, I need to add that I was so excited about Round 5 that I posted it before TBW ended and... let's say it immediately got worse the day after I posted the poll. My hubris for assuming it was the end... Anyways, Martyn's Tumblr shenanigans kick in once again. Congrats to "Martyn saying nothing about an ask that claims his character is in love with Ren", which also ended up being a significant post to Scurvyblr. For reasons.

Two months after TBW, the pining gets exponentially worse. And I do mean exponentially. Enter Round 6, which has a lot of insane moments, but there was one clear winner, a moment that swept with 32% of the votes— everybody clap and cheer for "Martyn's 50 word 3L AU drabble - "Luck be with ye.... Hand"!! At the time of writing, that post has 4.1k notes. Martyn's just like us. He's writing fanfiction and that's so real of him.

Merely ten days later, fires are crackling, demons are giggling— it's the Decked Out open day! And we got a Renchanting feast! Round 7 emerged from That Iconic Burning Stone Box and was dedicated to moments the stream day. With 39% of the votes, the unhinged moment that swept was "Ren to Martyn: You have very fine lips there and a wonderful neck for kissing". Honorable mentions go to Martyn's Twitch chat (for surviving), Martyn's viewers (for clipping it with varying degrees of "what did he just say??"), and of course, False (for locking them in and kickstarting whatever the improv demon roleplay was).

A few weeks later, the flames have died down— or have they? Round 8 enters with a steel chair and Ren has more unhinged moments now. Martyn's Tumblr takes home another win with "Martyn reblogging a post that calls Ren his “Minecraft boyfriend”!! This is the third win that's from Martyn's Tumblr blog. You love to see it.

Last but not the least, Round 9 from last week! It's finally Ren's turn to dominate. Our winner is.... "Ren mentions going to sleep and dreaming of Martyn’s 'beautiful, beautiful eyes'"!! Appropriately clipped with the caption "Insane".

But that's not all! In Round 1 + 2, I purposefully excluded the altar scene and the burning tower scene because I felt those two would sweep. Now, I think the altar scene is still untouchable but the burning tower seems almost normal now. (As normal as an unhinged moment could be.)

A new unhinged moment has appeared! Challenger approaching! Last Life Ren purposefully sets his tower on fire after knowing Martyn is watching him and Martyn runs to save him while screaming "Ren, what are you doing to yourself! Stop burning yourself!".

Okay, okay, my dramatic commentary is done. Hey, I'm not a Renchanting fan for nothing. Here's the poll. Have fun :D

Much love to all of you <3 here's to another year of unhinged Renchanting moments!

(Also sorry the r/place should be in 2022 not 2021)

#renchanting #treebark #polls #rendog #inthelittlewood #trafficblr #life series #traffic series #i spent like 40 mins writing the commentary lmao #im dramatic it runs in my blood #also i genuinely have no idea what to vote for #so focused on making this poll i forgot i have to vote #RENCHANTING SWEEP!!!!! bc it's all renchanting anyway!!!

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italianpersonwithashippersheart · 2 months

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You know what pisses me off about this all PheeJin stuff. It's taken over.

No matter what happens having TaCopper be such a huge part of the anticipation, them being promoted so heavily as a ship with this series was a mistake.

About 50% of all the comments under the BTS videos and reddit posts are about PheeJin.

Either that they love the ship, or the actors, or they are mad the writers "ruined" Jin by confirming he was the one that leaked the video.

Side note: Everyone seems to be pretty much treating the confession as confirmation. So do I. It would be a stupid as fuck writing decision to have Jin be not the person that realeased the video and confess to it anyway.

Instead of focusing on the show's themes like this excellent post outlines by @syrena-del-mar or even the topics of sex and voyerism like this post by @shannankle or another post I can't find discussing the way the show subverts the tipical way sex is punished in horror. EDIT: @shannankle found the post and linked it in the notes it was from @brifrischu with addition from @lurkingshan. Or even just enjoying the theorizing like this post by @mikuni14 or this one by @tbhimnoteasyonmyself. Most of the fans (again other places I am not looking at the tag here on tumblr) are mostly discussing Jin, PheeJin and whining that Tan is a killer and lost his mind.

Also not saying anything about the Jin fans on Tumblr I am not going in the tag for a reasons. But a lot of PheeJin shippers and Jin fans on other sites are using words I fucking hate to describing New and it's starting to low-key piss me off. All the: he lost his mind, he is derenged (i also saw lost his mind like his brother - which you know ew) it's getting on my last nerve and I would appriciate if we could be a little lighter with that kind of language please.

It sucks that such a great show now wrote itself into this conrner where it only has two options: Stick to the genre and revenge plot, have team masked killer win (and kill Jin and Phee if he is indeed a traitor); everyone is dead, depressing ending no one is happy; or Phee and Jin succed in bringing down "crazy" killer New, we get some nice violence is not the answear after school message and Phee and Jin live happly ever after.

The first two will make the fans crazy, and we know the BOC shipper fans are on all other level of insane. And the third will leave the rest of us with a show that detroyed his own message for the sake of a ship, AGAIN (might I add, ofts fans will know the struggle). Leaving the show bad reviews and claim outrage because TaCopper wasn't endgame and they got ruined.

And let me very clear, If I have too see the well-off/rich character all alive while the poor characters all die and get called crazy because they dared take revenge and be angry at their mistreatment. I will actually consider this the worse BL ending ever. That will piss me off more then the Last Twilight ending ever did.

#txt #dead friend forever #typed this just to get this out of my head #i will not be entertaining the notion that the Jin confession was fake or a lie or that he only believes he did it #because it would make no sense and it would be a such a colossally bad writing decision I can't even thinking about it #hope nobody minds getting tagged in this rant post #if you do i will take it off #no problem

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wolken-himmel · 2 years

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In which Ruggie saves (Y/n) from trouble with a few aggressive students by distracting them with his unique magic.

What does (Y/n) owe him now?

Request by anon.

"Hey, you can't just take food off my plate, raccoon!"

An annoyed frown grew on your face upon realising that the cat monster beside you was missing, and there was only one student that students would call raccoon. The commotion in the cafeteria was growing louder, forcing you to drop your spoon into your soup and turn around to see what was going on.

Much to your horror, Grim stood on the table, yes on the table, of a group of Savanaclaw students. Even worse, he seemed to hold a steak in his hands; he was the reason for the chaos, and it made you shrink into your seat in frustration.

"I'm not a raccoon!" Grim exclaimed and cackled loudly. "And I can do whatever I want!"

When the shouting became unbearably loud, you saw yourself forced to get up and intervene before someone landed in the infirmary. Your stride was heavy, and your hands were clenched into fists when you arrived at the table in question.

"Grim— what did you do again..."

The Savanaclaw student that fell victim to your friend's crime let out a low grumble, then turned his attention to you. The glare he shot you made you wince in fear. "Your little pet stole the tuna right off my plate without even trying to hide it. And now, he doesn't even want to give it back!" the victim yelled with his chest rising and falling visibly.

As you were about to turn to Grim to demand he return his stolen goods, he merely jumped off the table and zipped away. "Catch me if you can!" was the last thing he shouted before he disappeared through the exit door of the cafeteria.

Your heart dropped when you were forced to turn your attention to the angry Savanaclaw student and his friends again, now left to clean up the cat's mess all by yourself.

A tired sigh escaped your lips, and you shot them an apologetic look. "I'm so sorry... Grim hasn't been himself lately."

"That ain't a good apology!" the victim yelled and rose to his feet to tower over you. "I need my protein... so give me your food, prefect."

His request drew an immediate snort from you, and your whole attitude seemed to have changed upon being made responsible for this mess. You crossed your arms and shook your head vigorously, exclaiming, "No! I need my food, too. It's not my fault that Grim took off with your tuna—"

"I want my tuna," he interrupted you lowly, "one way or another."

"I'm not gonna give my food away!" you cried out desperately, especially when his friends rose from their seats as well and began approaching you condescendingly. You were left no other option than to slowly back away, knowing that you were too slow to outrun them and too weak to fight them.

You had lost.

Yet, as you had your eyes squinted close and your arms raised defensively, prepared for being struck or at least grabbed, nothing came.

"Hey, what was that for?" the theft-victim cried out.

The lack of pain led you to open your eyes in confusion. Your frightened gaze snapped to the scene in front of you, where the group of Savanaclaw students had stopped in their tracks. For a moment, all of them seemed to have forgotten your existence, too busy discussing an issue amongst themselves.

"Why did you punch me?" one of them repeated angrily.

The accused simply raised his hands into the air innocently. "I-I don't know! My muscles just spasmed—"

"What a bad excuse, idiot."

"Let's not fight amongst each other!" a third exclaimed and pushed them away from each other. "Over there is the enemy — the prefect."

Yet, his friends wouldn't listen, and instead began throwing punches and kicks left and right. The two agitators involved their third friend, and soon, the three were brawling on the ground, fighting for dominance.

"I'm gonna teach you a lesson, idiot !"

At first, you stood in your place, frozen, unable to believe the miracle that you would make it out in one piece today. And really, they were so busy punching and biting that they had all forgotten about you and the original issue. This was your chance to slip away unnoticed, and of course you took it without batting an eyelash.

When you had turned around to sneak away from the scene, nobody noticed due to the crowd of spectators that had formed around the three students. You had become one with the masses, especially once you had left the cafeteria. With most of the students inside to witness the brawl, you seemed to be alone outside, much to your luck. The quietness allowed you to take a deep breath and calm your shaky nerves.

"Well, you shouldn't provoke other students, dearie. Especially not Savanaclaw guys."

You would have screamed if it weren't for your own hand that clasped itself over your open mouth. The person who had snuck up on you had done such a good job that you only noticed them after a few seconds of frantically looking around.

A sigh of utter relief escaped your lips when you recognised the student. "Oh Ruggie... it's just you." Your tense muscles relaxed upon hearing his signature snickering, and a smile grew on your lips, too. "That was dire back there..." you muttered under your breath and wiped the sweat off your forehead.

Ruggie nodded along vigorously. "And it would have been even worse without me."

Although you were confused at first, especially since he wouldn't elaborate further, you soon were able to decipher the mischievous gleam in his eyes. The hyena beastman began laughing when you crossed your arms and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "So that 'muscle spasm' was your doing—" you whispered quietly in amazement. He confirmed your theory with a nod, causing you to exhale in gratitude. "You know what, I really owe you."

"Yes, you do." The grin on his lips grew. "Big time, now."

"Fine, how about a donut every day?"

"You're generous, (Y/n)," Ruggie drawled and traipsied around on his toes. "But that's not enough."

The greedy tone in his voice earned him a roll of your eyes. "What do you want more?" you grumbled under your breath, waving him off. "Two donuts a day will give you diabetes..."

"One donut," he began smoothly, "and half an hour of your time a day."

You opened your mouth, about to reject his conditions — but then your mind had comprehended the request completely, and you were left surprised at its simplicity. "...That's it?" you asked while suspiciously looking him up and down.

Your reaction made him laugh uncontrollably. "Yes, really!" He even slapped his thigh, that's how funny he found the flabbergasted expression on your face. But, his laughter soon ceased to be when he noticed more and more students streaming out of the cafeteria again. With a cough into his fist, he traipsied away again. "I gotta go though, now. Leona wants his steak— so, toodles!"

You were left behind, still confused. But, as the confusion subsided, a smile blossomed on your face. "A-Alright? Thanks again, I guess," you yelled after him and waved.

Ruggie, with his hands behind his head, simply strutted away proudly. "I aim to please, shishishi."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x you #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst ruggie #twst ruggie bucchi x reader #twst ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland ruggie #gender neutral reader

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missathlete31 · 1 year

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Someone In Your Corner

Summary: Hangman, struggling to deal with his nightmares after the mission, goes for a run in the California heat. When he gets himself into trouble he finds a surprising ally on his side.

Aka if Maverick is MavDad meet DaggerMom

Hey look, yet another Jake Seresin Whump/Angst fic….. also known as the only thing I know how to write lol! Enjoy!

Two week after the Uranium mission and Jake "Hangman" Seresin was struggling. The Navy had given them all a month's worth of leave, a ridiculously long time in Jake's opinion but extremely sought after for all the others. There was a mandatory week of debriefs and discussions, most of which Jake hovered in the back and only answered when he was addressed directly, but then they were free to go. The whole squadron seemed to have gotten plane tickets to head back home, the suicide mission making a lot of them place things in new perspective. Jake of course would rather perform ten suicide missions than even think about going home to Texas. Javy had invited him back to New Orleans with him and his family but Jake declined. He loved the Machados; he spent enough holidays over there to think of them as the closest thing he'd ever get to a real family, but he knew Javy was still shaken up from his G-Loc incident and the mission in general. He deserved a chance to decompress with his loved ones instead of trying to entertain Jake.

So Jake waved his best friend off at the airport on the third day after the start of their official leave and went back to the barracks to find a notice on his door. It seemed that the temporary living quarters they were supplied for training was being revoked now that everything was over. Jake had vaguely heard one of the others talking about it at the bar but he didn't realize it applied to those that weren't going home as well. He assumed he would be allowed to hang around base, maybe convince Admiral Simpson (or at least the more agreeable Admiral Bates) to let him jump into a few hops to keep his skills sharp. Those plans were scrapped though as both Admirals informed him in no uncertain terms that none of the Daggers would be allowed back in the air until they were given the all clear from both medical and psych. Jake was already cleared on the medical end but all psych evals were to be conducted after the team returned from leave. He wanted to push to get his moved up but Cyclone only gave him that un-amused look that he usually reserved for Maverick, and Jake figured it wasn't worth the fight (he was still on shaky ground for disobeying direct orders on the carrier that day- and for getting the rest of the flight crew to go along with him).

So now not only was Jake alone on North Island, he was also forced to find new housing. With no real other options, he checked into a random motel that was far from luxurious with its outdated decor and questionable activities for it's by the hour patrons. Jake found he didn't mind though as long as he used his own sheets. Also besides a few quick visitors a few doors down, Jake was virtually on his own in his section. This was a huge benefit for the blonde pilot as he found himself dealing with an added difficulty now that the mission was over: debilitating nightmares.

It was embarrassing for him to admit but Jake had always struggled with nightmares. As a child in an abusive household he was always so tense and on edge, especially at night after his father had had a couple of drinks in him, that he found his dreams were filled with running away from monsters that looked vaguely like his parents until he woke up screaming. After receiving punishments for waking anyone up with his pathetic cries, Jake learned to muffle his terror to much quieter levels, though the nightmares always held a grip on him for those formable years. As he got older and into his teen years, Jake's real world seemed to be worse than any dream ever could be and sadly that was what quashed his night terrors for a few years at least. When he left home and joined the Navy he felt freer than he ever had in the world and he finally learned what the term 'sleep like a baby' really meant.

It didn't last for long though because after his first confirmed kill, Jake's nightmares came back. He was forever dreaming of being back in his plane, sometimes shooting down the Bogey, other times the Bogey catching him first. He had nightmares where he shot his wingman down instead, his whole squadron condemning him for the action. Other times it would be his squad shot him down because they were protecting themselves from Hangman leaving them like his call-sign dictated. These dreams circled through Jake's sleep cycle for weeks until Javy caught on before he was sent to ship out again and noticed the dark bags under his best friend's eyes. Though Javy knew better than to push Jake towards any sort of professional therapy from the Navy that could ultimately keep him grounded, he did force his best friend to talk to him more about what was troubling him and to find healthy outlets for his anxiety, fear, and guilt. Jake's favorite method became running.

Jake already enjoyed running from when he was a kid and needed an escape at home so using it to relax from work stress as well came fairly easy. He took to jogging around bases in the morning, night or whenever he just felt a little overwhelmed. Javy would join him if he was able, though normally he cut out about half the miles while jokingly calling Jake a robot for being able to run so much. It was therapeutic and it worked, especially when he ran at night, as Jake felt his body become so tired he went off to sleep without any dreams at all.

But then this mission happened.

First it was Coyote's G-loc; the sounds of Maverick trying to stir his best friend back to consciousness before he crashed into a mountain staying with Jake even during waking hours. In dreams it was worse, Maverick never getting tone in time, Coyote's scream over the radio before he burned up in his jet. Jake would wake up each time with tears in his eyes and would struggle to not call his best friend right there and then. Jake also dreamed of the bird strike. Though he pretended to be indifferent, he really did care about Phoenix, she was one of his oldest friends, dating back to his Flight School days. That nightmarish day, after being so close to losing Javy, to then hear her and Bob forced to eject, it broke something in Jake. His dreams featured the two not ejecting in time, or sometimes different pilots were up there but with the same results. The worst nightmare was when Jake was in the air with them and he listened to Phoenix scream at him that because he left them hanging, the birds hit their plane instead of his. Both Bob and Phoenix's last words were wishing it was Jake instead. Maverick would share the sentiment on the radio as the two planes watched the other go down. When Jake woke from that particular dream, he usually felt so gutted all he could do was sit up in silence.

There were moments from the actual mission that attributed to his night terrors as well of course. First it was Dagger one going down, the others blaming Jake for not being good enough that Maverick had to take the spot of team leader to ensure the others survived and therefore sacrificed himself. Then he would hear Dagger Two going down and there was the guilt of having Bradshaw die after all the mean things Jake had said and done to him. But the worst was Jake's rescue of Maverick and Rooster. Jake couldn't count the times he would close his eyes (both awake and asleep) and see the damn missile that was headed right for that old F-14. He never told anyone outside of his debriefs with the Admirals but that missile was shot and deployed and not even seconds away from killing both Captain Mitchell and Bradshaw. He had had no time to spare.

Every night during the week of debriefs Jake would dream of being too late, of watching that missile kill his CO and his wingman in a fiery blaze as bright as the sun. Jake would be forced to call on the radio that he hadn’t reached them in time, would land on the carrier not to celebration and hugs but dirty looks and tears. One night the nightmare was so bad, felt so real, that Jake actually called Rooster just to hear his voice. The groggy other pilot thought it was some kind of joke and didn't respond incredibly kind but Jake hung up the phone with tears of relief in his eyes anyway. He would take a sarcastic Rooster over a dead one any day.

Last night Jake dreamed of the man he shot down. His second confirmed kill but it wasn't any easier. He dreamed of the man's family, his children growing up fatherless like Rooster did. A whole family lineage cursing him for taking away the man they loved most. When he woke up Jake only had a few seconds before he was puking in his toilet, no chance of falling back to sleep again. His count of hours slept in the week at a sickening level. He knew he should be worried, knew that he should address his problems with someone but everyone else was dealing and he didn’t understand how he couldn’t. He wasn’t one of the Daggers, he wasn’t the one completing the suicide course. He didn’t go into G-Loc or get hit with a bird strike. He wasn’t shot down and he wasn’t stuck behind enemy lines and scrambling to get home. Jake was just the spare; sure he had a lucky shot, but he did nothing more. He didn’t deserve to bother anyone with his lack of sleeping. He would get it sorted, just like he always did.

As the day progressed and Jake's lids got heavier he thought about his techniques to combat his nightmares in the past and looked for his running gear. He hoped to kill two birds with one stone, run enough to clear his mind but also to make himself so exhausted he would fall asleep right away. The pilot put on his sneakers and reached for headphones before heading out the door. He knew it was going to be hot but the minute he was outside he felt like a wall of humidity was surrounding him. It wasn't the ideal running conditions but Jake grew up in Texas where heat was a part of everyday life. He threw off his shirt knowing it would be soaked in a second and headed out.

—————————————————————————-

Penny Benjamin wiped another hand across her brow as she turned to another box. She knew she shouldn't have chosen Tuesday to do inventory especially when the weather forecasts all called for the height of the heat wave to hit, yet here she was sweating in the back rooms of the Hard Deck anyway. She wished Maverick was around to help, though he was abnormally chaotic in a tight setting, at least the man could have helped with the lifting. Pete however, had taken Bradley for a 'getting re-acquainted trip' aka a 'get our crap together' trip up in Northern California. Penny was so happy to see the two trying to make things right and she knew it meant the world to Pete.

It did leave her alone though and with all the other pilots of the squadron gone on leave and Amelia visiting her father, Penny hated the quiet. Even doing normal chores around the bar made her ache for the loud and boisterous group she had grown to love. She hoped they were at least all trying to heal like Maverick and Rooster. She wasn't given all the details from the mission but she knew there were a lot of close calls and that for everyone to return was lucky, bordering on miraculous. Penny felt lucky herself every time she got to see Pete's smile again.

As the morning progressed and the heat got too much Penny opted to go over some sales numbers and to save the inventory for later. Grabbing her books, she headed for her usual table outside, the umbrella giving only the most miniscule relief from the heat.

She looked up as she watched a man run on the beach. He looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't until he was a bit closer that Penny realized it was Hangman. She had been surprised this morning when she saw the man arrive at the beach to run. She had assumed Hangman like all the others had gone away for leave. Clearly this wasn’t the case as the pilot putt his ear pods in and started his jog just as she first opened up to do inventory. Penny glanced at her watch and saw it was close to an hour later then since she had first arrived, and yet Hangman was still running. A hint of worry bubbled in her stomach but she learned that Top Gun pilots tended to be work-out fanatics, Hangman no exception.

As the man neared, Penny raised her hand, "Hangman!" she called but she wasn't surprised when the man kept running, no doubt lost in his music and training. She watched him for a minute, not immune to admit that the sight of the muscular shirtless blonde running along the beach wasn't the worst thing she's laid her eyes on. She shook her head at her silliness and turned back to her sales book figuring she would chastise the man for ignoring her later when he came in for some beers tonight.

Thirty minutes later the same figured appeared for the third time since she sat outside and Penny's brow furrowed. She knew Hangman liked to run but this was getting a bit excessive. She was familiar with his two mile loop, she had walked it with Amelia many times herself, but never this many times, nor in this kind of heat. When she included the time she was in the basement, she knew Jake was running much more than was normal or healthy on a day like today. It was nearing noon, the heat for the day was at its worse and she had heard an air quality alert on the news this morning. Jake ran with no water bottle, no shirt and if she had to guess no sunscreen. He just ran, and ran, and ran.

Perhaps it was the mother in her or perhaps it was just the concern for a pilot she had grown to care about over the years, but Penny refused to let Hangman run past again without at least taking a little respite. She stood herself up from the table and headed towards the sand, waving a bit to not startle the runner. As she got closer she noticed Hangman's gait was off, he seemed to be listing to the side with each step. Her concern mounting, Penny hurried forward a little faster, her heart dropping when she noticed Jake had started to stagger. "Hangman you alright?" the barmaid hollered, but instead of a verbal response Jake fell to one knee. "Jake!" Penny called as she watched the blonde collapse complete to the ground. He landed face first in the sand and the older woman felt herself fall next to him, a gentle hand reaching for his shoulder to help roll him over.

The man lying before her looked so far from the Hangman she knew that Penny gasped. Jake's normally lively green eyes were closed, his skin pale and his breath raspy. She gently nudged his face, trying to stir some kind of reaction and felt her heart relax a fraction when Jake gave a low groan and took a wobbling hand to brush hers away.

"Hey Hangman you with me?" she tapped his cheek again, worry increasing when she felt how warm his body was and yet she didn't notice much sweat on his body. Familiar with signs of overheating but in no way a doctor, Penny looked back towards the Hard Deck and hoped to see someone around that could help her. Unfortunately it seemed they were alone. She turned back to the blonde and saw his eyes were still closed though his body seemed to want to move. “Jake honey, can you hear me?” she asked again.

“P-Penny?” Jake murmured and finally those green eyes were open if barely past slits. He seemed to take a good look at the woman leaning over him before all the rest of the color in Hangman’s face disappeared and he rolled over to his side. As he retched out what Penny disgustingly assumed was his breakfast, she tried to run a soothing hand over his back but again she faltered at how hot his body temperature seemed to be. She reached to pull him back to face her carefully, allowing his back to land back in a clean portion of sand before trying to meet his eyes, “Jake, you with me? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah” he didn’t sound convincing, “’ll good.”

“I think you’re overheated, I need to get you inside.”

“No-“ he shook his head weakly, his voice low and gravelly, “-m fine…. Just-… just overdid it a bit. ”

Penny moved to brush back his damp hair from where it was plastered with sand to his forehead, “You really over did it, okay” she tried to give a reassuring smile but her concern was too great and it became more of a grimace, “you need to get out of this sun and get some water in you. You think you can stand?”

It didn’t look like Jake would be moving any time soon but when Penny gave him a small pull the pilot managed to follow the momentum enough to get himself standing. It wasn’t pretty and Hangman looked ready to puke again at least three different times, but he held it in and allowed Penny to throw his arm around her shoulders. The two took a moment to gain their balance before they started with small and slow steps all the way back to the Hard Deck.

The walk was long and tedious. With each step that they got closer Jake’s movements got sloppier and the weight Penny had to support seemed to double. When she finally got him inside, Penny deposited Jake to the nearest booth and ran for a cold water bottle and some towels. She ran them under the coldest water she could get and started to place them over Jake’s chest, his neck and his forehead. The man didn’t even flinch. “Keep those there” Penny ordered as she moved to grab more water bottles, “and take small sips of water.”

Jake tried to follow orders but when he moved his hands to open the bottle, they were shaking so bad he dropped it. He went to get his body to pick it up but instead he slid down to the floor, his back against the table’s leg. Penny heard the commotion and came running, finding the pilot out of it and on the floor of her bar. “Jesus Jake, I think we need to get you to the hospital” she told him, “This is way worse than over heating-“

“No” Jake shook his head, his eyes unfocused, “’m –ok-“

“Honey” she got him standing again, “no you’re not. Hang on, take a seat for a minute and let me get my keys. I have to lock up the basement and then I will take you.” She led him back towards the booths but didn’t wait for him to sit, instead running to her bag and car keys.

Meanwhile the blonde had teetered after her, following towards the bar and knocking over a stool followed by another, "shit” he cursed, “’m sorry. Y-you can just call m’ an uber" Jake slurred softly, now leaning heavily against the bar, “’t’s no bother.”

"Absolutely not, and I said to sit Jake" she ordered, manhandling him towards the booths, "sit before you collapse again."

"'M -fine-"

"No you're really not." Her eyes must have shown her anger and concern because Jake seemed to melt into the cushion of the seats. Penny gave a nod and then ran to lock up her basement door and lock the inventory room. When she got back to the bar she noticed Jake’s head was leaning down on the table. “Hangman?” she questioned, but the man didn’t stir, “Jake?” When she still got no answer, she hurried over and took one of the water bottles, emptying it over the man’s head in a frantic shake, “Lieutenant Seresin!” she yelled and was luckily awarded with a dazed Jake shaking his wet hair out in confusion. “-enny?” he murmured sleepily, “did it rain?”

“Something like that” Penny lied, moving to grab the man out of the booth once more and get him towards the exit, “now come on honey, we’re going to the hospital.”

“-Don’’ feel so g-good.”

“I know, but we’re going to get you all fixed up” she promised silently praying that she could deliver on such a statement. If she was honest with herself Jake’s condition was really starting to frighten her. He collapsed three times already, he threw up on the beach and his body temperature was frightening high. She had tried cold compresses but they didn’t seem to make a difference. He was incoherent and confused; his body a shaky and unstable mess when he was normally frighteningly in control.

They got to Penny’s car quickly; fortunately she parked in the closet spot this morning. She helped lay Jake out along the back seat, sparing a second to take a hand to his forehead where she still felt the heat radiating off his skin. She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything, instead starting her car and cranking the A/C, hoping that it would help cool the pilot down.

For the first few minutes of the ride, Jake stayed silent and if it weren’t for Penny looking towards him in the rear view mirror every few seconds she would have thought he was unconscious or worse. Instead she watched as the man took shallow wheezy breaths, praying they get to the hospital quickly so he could get real help.

After a few more minutes of silence, Penny heard what sounded like a throat clearing in the back seat. Jake’s voice sounded fractured when he finally spoke up, "'why-you helpin' me?" he whispered from the back, 'm a bad person. A bad person with no one left.”

"No you're not honey" Penny immediately argued back, watching as Hangman’s eyes closed and his face scrunched up in pain, "you're a good person. I know that and so do the others."

"Asshole to them.... always a jerk..."

"I think they've started to see all that for what it is.” And she really believed that. The Hangman that strutted around the Hard Deck all these years was a show, meant for entertainment and for keeping people at arm’s length. Penny, no stranger at pushing people away herself, could recognize the signs easily though she knew it took the others a while to see. “You earned your teammates’ trust” she continued with what she hoped sounded reassuring. Jake didn’t seem to react to the words though, so Penny tried to push a bit more remembering what Maverick had told her the night he returned after the boat docked, about how Jake had saved his life, “you showed them the true Jake Seresin during the mission. They see it now.”

“They all left, ‘m alone again.”

“You’re not alone sweetheart”

“I should be, ‘ve killed people” Jake announced next and in the driver’s seat Penny stilled. It’s not that she doesn’t know this fact, she’s heard Hangman address it before but hearing Jake speak the words so matter of factly while he himself was so broken, exhausted and barely conscious, Penny’s heart clenched. “You were just doing your job, Jake, it’s different.”

“No” he shook his head minutely, “’t’s not.” He sniffed back what sounded like a sob, “can’t sleep, just see it again and again… All my mistakes... all the early graves… all my fault.”

“Nothing was your fault Jake, you saved lives that day. You saved Maverick and Rooster-“

“see them die every night…. ‘m pathetic-“

“No you’re not, you’re so brave honey” she felt a tear fall down her cheek as Jake let out another raspy sob, “so, so brave.”

“’ can’t even sleep anymore” Jake moaned, “just wanna sleep-“

“We can get you help for that” she urged, “there are people that can help-“

“No one can ‘elp me” his head lulled to the side, “I…can’t be fixed.”

There was so much Penny wished to say, so much she wished to correct but before she got the chance she was pulling into the emergency driveway entrance of the hospital and screeching her brakes to a halt behind an empty ambulance. “Please!” Penny hollered from her window at the two paramedics heading out the exit doors. Both stopped and looked her way, “please I need help” she urged to them.

The two women hurried forward, following Penny’s directions to the back seat, “he’s in rough shape, can you help me get him inside?”

“I’ll get the backboard and gurney” the younger of the medics announced, running back to her rig. When she returned the three women were able to lift Jake up and onto it, the two medical professionals beginning to wheel him inside, Penny hot on their heels.

“Ma’am you can’t leave your car here” the security guard tried but Penny ignored it and just continued to follow the gurney wheeling Hangman further into the hospital. Getting a ticket was the least of her worries, even getting towed. All she cared about was making sure the blonde pilot in that bed got the care he needed.

She followed them through into the emergency room where Jake was taken into a corner make-shift room with curtains closing it off. A nurse started asking Penny questions about Jake’s age, medical history, and if he had any allergies. She tried to answer to the best of her abilities but the truth was she didn’t really know. Jake Seresin had been coming to the bar for years but Penny couldn’t even tell the hospital if he was allergic to peanuts yet alone any medication he was on; she just never bothered to get to know him that well. She vowed if they got through this debacle, she would find out, resolved to pester Jake with so many questions he would have no choice but to tell her everything. She looked forward to it with a spark of hope.

Suddenly an older man came forward from the other side of the curtain, ripping it open with an intern on his heels, “What do we have?” he asked, not looking away from his patient on the bed.

“32 year old white male, fading in and out of consciousness, feels excessively warm to the touch-“

The doctor sighed and put on his glasses, his thinning hair reflecting the light as he knelt down on his work stool, and started to lightly examine Jake’s face and chest, “what’s his name?”

When no one else replied Penny realized the question was addressed to her. She swallowed her nerves, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin” she told him.

“Navy?”

“A Navy pilot, yes.”

“Why did you bring him here, shouldn’t he be on base?”

Penny shrugged, realizing she never even thought about taking Jake back to North Island, her mind just drove them to the first hospital she could think of, “this was closer” she explained instead.

The doctor hummed but continued his examination, “okay Lieutenant can you hear me?” when the blonde gave no response, the doctor turned to one of the nurses, “get me a temperature reading now” he ordered.

“Right away Doctor” and the nurse hurried to get the thermometer.

“What happened to him?” the ER doctor asked, shining a pen light as he used a hand to hold open Jake’s eye lid.

“He collapsed on the beach,” Penny supplied dutifully, still watching with what felt like a heavy weight on her chest, “he had been running and I think he might have over heated-“

“In this heat, I’m not surprised. Order a toxicology report, I don’t like his pupil dilation.”

Penny felt her temper flare, “He wasn’t drinking” she shot back, “he’s exhausted.”

“Let’s take the family out of the room-“ the doctor also added, rolling his eyes to his staff. As a nurse went to remove her, Penny listened as another rattled off Jake’s temperature. The minute his nurse was done saying 105 degrees, the ER doctor began sprouting commands, his voice a lot more concerned and worried than it were not two minutes ago. Penny knew 105 was dangerous, even deadly, but seeing doctors and nurses run in frantically made the woman more scared than she could ever remember being in her life. A curtain was pulled and her view was gone, and Penny felt her heart stutter as she wondered if that was to be the last time she would ever see Jake again. What if he died? What if she was too late getting him help, waited too long in the bar locking up a damn inventory closet when she should have been calling an ambulance and getting the poor man help. Her legs buckled for a moment but the nurse at her side kept a strong hand on her arm that kept her standing. “Here we go” the nurse told her steering her to the nurses’ station, “Fran” she called and one nurse was replaced with a different one as Penny was handed off once more.

“Okay” the nurse named Fran began, an iPad in her hand and glasses on her kind face, “let’s begin. Patient’s name was what again?”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

“Age?”

“32.”

“Occupation?”

“Naval Pilot.”

She typed faster, then opened her mouth to ask more but Penny beat her too it, "please" she begged, "is he going to be alright?"

Fran seemed to scrutinize her for a moment, his brown eyes boring into Penny over her glasses, “What is your relation to him again?" she questioned.

Penny stuttered for a moment, but then found her confidence, "I'm- I'm his aunt” she declared daring someone to disagree. The nurse didn’t argue, just typed something on her iPad, “and your name?”

“Penny Benjamin.”

Fran nodded and motioned towards the waiting room, “okay Ms. Benjamin, take a seat and I’ll send a doctor to talk once he finishes his evaluations.”

"But can’t I go back in?“

“You’ve done everything you could for the Lieutenant; now leave it to the doctors.” Fran placed a comforting hand to her arm and squeezed gently, “your nephew is in good hands.”

“What if I didn’t do enough, I tried to put cold compresses, and the water, but he could even grip it properly and I never made him drink-“

“Shhh” the kind woman placated her, “I’ll let the doctors know. I’m sure they will put him on fluids right away, you just sit here.”

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’ll be back later.”

Penny watched her go, falling into the hard waiting room chair and taking her head into her hands. She wanted to scream in frustration and worry, but she knew that wouldn’t help Jake. Instead she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

A hand on her arm a few minutes later made her jump. She looked up; expecting a doctor or nurse but finding herself staring at the same security guard she had run past before. The man looked sheepish, clearly feeling guilty for startling her. Penny pulled her fingers through her long brown hair to try to look even a semblance of normal but the security guard didn’t seem to judge. “Ma’am” he began, “I’m sorry to bug you but I really need you to move your car, we got ambulances that need to unload in those spaces and you’re blocking them.”

She looked back at him, her face reddening in mortification; she had completely forgotten about the car she had left parked in the emergency entrance. “I’m so sorry, Sir, I was so panicked before-“

He shook off her apology, “believe me I’ve seen it a million times before. Just move it now and we can both pretend it didn’t happen. I know you got more important things to worry about.” He offered a hand to help her standing and Penny took it gratefully, rising from the chair and heading to the automatic doors leading outside.

Penny moved her car like directed and then took back her seat in the waiting room. She noticed others sitting around, none paying her much attention, everyone lost in their own worlds of worry and fear.

This was why she hated hospitals, especially waiting rooms. It was a place where time simultaneously stood still and yet rushed by. People waited in agony over people in actually agony. Some people were here for last goodbyes while others welcomed new lives into the world. It was a place of overstimulation and over emotion and yet Penny couldn’t imagine herself being anywhere else at the moment. She would wait here as long as it took until she knew Jake would be okay.

About an hour later, a tall man approached the nurse’s station and Penny watched as he was directed to her. "Ms Benjamin?" the dark haired doctor called dressed in scrubs, "my name is Doctor Rask,” he held out a hand for Penny to shake, her grip lacking from her fear, “I’m your nephew's doctor” he told her soothingly.

"Hi" Penny breathed out, trying to control her nerves, "how's Jake?" she asked after no preamble.

If he thought she was rude the doctor didn't comment, instead he went right into Jake's diagnosis. "Lieutenant Seresin has a severe case of hyperthermia, more specifically heat stroke. His body temperature was 105 when you brought him in and that was with the cooling methods you tried to do prior. With a body temp that high our biggest concern is always going to be organ failure."

Penny clutched her hands into fists; the feeling of her nails in her palms the only thing keeping her together. She focused on the slight pain as she struggled to find her voice, "did he-... is his organs... are they okay?"

"He is extremely lucky” the doctor explained, “We don't see any evidence of organ failure but we will monitor him closely for the next few hours to be sure."

"That's- that's good news."

Dr. Rask spared her a comforting look, "it is, especially with how overheated he was but he's not out of the woods yet. Lieutenant Seresin was also severely dehydrated and extremely exhausted. His fine motor skills were so impaired upon admission that the ER doctor ordered a toxicology report because he was convinced Lieutenant Seresin must have been drunk. He wasn't of course but the Lieutenant admitted to being unable to supply the last time he had a full night's sleep."

Penny sighed, "he just got back from a serious mission Doctor Rask, it affective him deeply-"

"I understand," the doctor cut in gently, "and believe me I'm sympathetic but I suggest he find someone to talk to about this. He is beyond normal exhaustion levels which is extremely dangerous, not only in his profession but in all matters of his life."

"I agree. I plan on reaching out to his CO to discuss this as well."

The doctor softened, "we can also recommend people for him to talk to if he didn't want to go through the Navy. My father served and I know firsthand how people can be hesitant to show weakness to their superiors. It’s dangerous and they end up denying themselves the opportunity to get proper help."

"Thank you, I worry about that as well but I can promise you I will personally make sure Jake gets the help he needs, even if I have to drag him myself."

"He's lucky to have you" Doctor Rask shared with a smile.

Penny shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor, “I don't know about that” she admitted softly.

"I do” the doctor told her kindly, “You saved his life getting him in here so quickly."

"So he will be okay?"

"Well like I said before his organs look undamaged which is the best news for his case. He is still on cooling pads right now as we try to lower his temperature safely. We also have him on multiple IVs to increase his fluids and nutrients."

It certainly didn’t sound like he was okay but Penny took the doctor’s calm attitude as a good sign. Still she would only feel better once she could see Jake with her own eyes, "Is he awake?" she asked ready to run to his room if she found out he was.

Doctor Rask shook his head, "we gave him a small sedative which I would normally be against but Lieutenant Seresin was very restless in the room from the over exhaustion. I feared he would tax himself further. It should wear off in a few hours but he will be exceptionally groggy. Do to the severity of the heat stroke and the strain on his body; I want to keep him overnight for observations."

"Can I see him?"

"I would prefer not if I'm honest” he managed a sympathetic look when he noticed her face fall. “It's important for him to stay resting. In his heightened state and with the weak sedation, any disruption could cause him to wake before he's ready and that's the last thing he needs. Rest is his best medication at this point."

"I understand" and she did, no matter how much it broke her heart to think of Jake waking up alone in the hospital.

"If you leave your info with the nurse, I'll call you personally when he wakes, or any other member of his family."

He doesn't think he has any family, Penny's mind automatically corrected but she didn't bother saying it out loud. Besides, she learned many years ago that family went far beyond blood no matter what the medical world said. "Thank you Doctor, for everything."

"My pleasure and make sure Lieutenant Seresin thanks you as well. Like I said before, you saved your nephew's life today Ms. Benjamin, a few more minutes out there and we would be having a very different conversation."

She shuddered but gave her thanks anyway before turning back to her waiting room seat. She knew she had hours to kill before Jake would be up and she could see him so Penny took out her phone and scrolled to Pete’s name. She knew she needed to call the man, knew that the minute he heard something was wrong with one of his pilots he would want to be informed and be there. She wondered for a moment if perhaps she was overstepping until she remember Jake’s sad words in the car. This was a man who thought he was alone in the world and even worse, he thought he deserved to be alone in the world. He thought of himself as a killer for doing his job and pathetic for not being to handle his emotions and his PTSD properly. His hyperthermia would be treated but Penny knew that Jake Seresin had a much longer road to recovery once he was discharged from the hospital. Penny knew that she, Maverick, Rooster and the rest of the Daggers would be there for him every step of the way. They were a family now and that’s what family does.

Her mind made up, Penny hit the call button and brought the phone up to her ear, ready to call on the reinforcements.

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arabaka · 1 year

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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ angel x sex devil!fem!reader. CONTENT WARNINGS: 18+ !!! somnophilia (kinda, you're technically awake). thigh fucking. slight belly bulge. slight cervix fucking. WORD COUNT: 2.6K PSD CREDIT !!! MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI !!!!!!!（ ꐦꉺωꉺ)つ

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ a prequel of sorts to this fic starring aki !!!

Sunlight creeps through your bedroom window, but just barely; the curtains are drawn and still, echoing the silence that's fallen over the rest of your sanctuary. It's unlike your surroundings to be quiet and your halls to be bare. Not for this long.

To think, you'd be reduced to this: a sniveling lump surrounded by silk bed sheets you no longer feel entitled to. You'd be pissed… If you had the energy to spare.

Is this what being on the brink feels like? What it feels like to have all the cards dealt and not a single winning hand to play? And all because a squadron of Public Safety made a deplorable showing in battle and got wiped out, but not before calling for your aid. You made the wrong choices, bartered your power to simpletons masquerading as knights, and are now paying the price. You can't remember how you perished in your last run about, but you know one thing. It couldn't have been worse than this.

You have one option at this rate. Just one.

"Makima…" Your attempts at barking orders are slurred, "If you’re gonna wanna keep me around, you better send your finest. Now.” Look at you. Groveling before Public Safety. The embarrassment could kill you.

“Oh?” A snide answer for a pitiful prayer. “That’s no way to talk to get what you want.” Makima is quick to put you in your place. She always does. “I’ll send someone.” The seconds she takes to speak feel like hours to you as you lay, shivering and curled in misery, that her answer doesn’t provide the immediate relief you foolishly thought she’d give you. What’s worse, you just know Makima is smiling on her end of the call.

The click of the phone sends you straight to sleep, your body finally collapsing now that the weight of survival has been lifted off your shoulders. You can fear whatever Makima will have in store for you another time. For now you’ll slumber, dreaming of all the possible suitors Makima could be sending over. You hope it’s that Hayakawa Aki you’ve been hearing about.

When the doorbell rings, you aren’t there to receive it. When the second chime echoes your halls, you don’t even stir to hear it. The third press of your doorbell goes unanswered, just like the others. “Makima,” Says the voice outside your door, “She’s not answering.”

“That’s what the key in your pocket is for.”

So he steps through your door and takes the spiral staircase that can only lead him to you. You live so differently from him, the number of rooms in a single hall intimidating for the devil that only has a single space in the Public Safety building to call his own. You intrigue him. You always have but he’s never gotten close enough to experience your power. Now you’re just a few steps away, the door to your bedroom open just a sliver and he feels his chest tighten.

You see, because unlike his name, Angel is no saint. He’s a devil and just like any other, has inclinations that are a little malicious, a tinge corrupt. Makima’s proposition to him had been simple, but he saw it as an opportunity. A chance to experience a pleasure he’s seen play out on those internet videos humans love so much. Not to satisfy a craving but rather, a curiosity. And who better to help him than you, the notorious Sex Devil?

Angel doesn’t know what to expect from you though and he’s thought about it the whole car ride over. The last thing he anticipated, however, was to find you fast asleep in bed, flat on your back and dressed only in a satin robe. Now, Angel usually doesn’t have his eyes wander. He never feels compelled to. But here, he’s following the outline of your form, starting with your face and thinking how deceptively innocent you look. He can’t say the same for the rest of you; your robe, which looks fancier than anything in his closet, hugs your body so tight, it’s divine. You leave almost nothing to the imagination, even your nipples tent through the thin fabric and your legs, slightly parted, make the bottom hem of your clothing ride up your thighs.

Angel exhales, keeping his breath low, and inches towards you at the end of the bed. His fingers drum pensively on his leg before reaching out for you, just for a touch. Your skin is sleek, soft and feverish. He thinks you’ll wake up but he catches your chest rising and falling at the same, slow pace so he grips your ankle a little tighter. Not rough, just firmer. He thought about waiting for you, figured that would be best but god, whatever effect you exude is so potent his head is swimming in dizzying lust.

He’s never felt like this before, at least not that he can remember. It’s so foreign, feeling this desperate for sexual satisfaction and it’s making Angel act in ways so unbecoming of one with his visage. He swallows the lump in his throat, climbing onto the bed with you, in front of you and sitting on his knees, without a second thought.

Angel’s jacket slides right off and soon joining the heap of clothes on the bed beside you are his tie and belt. What am I doing? He thinks but can’t stop himself. Numbed hands start to pluck at the button on his slacks and then his zipper and before long, his pants are bunching around his knees. He dips into his briefs, throat tightening when he starts to fist his swollen cock to you. His eyelashes, long and dainty, flutter together as his eyes come to rest on your face, your features so soft and delicate as you rest. Your lips are supple, tempting. But he’s so fixated on your legs, on the fat of your thighs that he’s fisting his cock to them before he even realizes it.

He’s never quite touched himself, not like this and certainly not with anyone in the same vicinity. His dick becomes harder with every pump, Angel’s breath sharpening and jutting his hips to his own hand at the newfound, glorious relief. He continues like this for a while, first being satisfied just jerking off to the sight of you asleep but he touches you once, palm running up your leg and realizes that he can feel better. You can help him feel better.

Gently, he bends your leg. You don’t bat an eye. Then he bends the other. You’re still passed out. He manages to dock your legs over his shoulder, one hand keeping your ankles nice and stable while his arm comes to wrap around your thighs, drawing you nice and snug against him. He takes a peek at you. How have you not woken up yet? Biting his lip, against all rationality, he sticks his cock between your raised thighs and shudders from the compression. His head falls, crimson locks coming to frame his face as he rolls with the waves of pleasure that come from grinding into your thighs. The friction you’re giving him is luxurious, the way you grip and smooth over his cock making his lids heavy and his jaw relax. He dares to quicken his momentum, forgetting all about how wrong this is, how awful he is for doing this because you just feel too good to deny.

That is, until you pipe up. “I didn’t take you for a thigh guy, Angel.” You watch, entertained, as Angel stumbles back in surprise though you keep him standing with your feet digging into his shoulder and your tail hooking around his waist.

“You were awake? Why didn’t you say anything?” Angel asks, shame contorting his lips to a frown and sullying his tone. Blush dusts his cheeks, almost as red as the hair that trails down his body

Gracefully, you lower your legs, parting them to put Angel in the center, your center. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world, you answer, “I wanted to see what you’d do. Felt good, huh?” The red hue starting to bloom on his cheeks answers for him and you giggle, staring at Angel with a bright, mischievous glint in your eyes. “You wanna feel even better?” Your tail, uncoiling from Angel’s frame, rises, the pointed tip slowly drawing up to his neck and then his chin. His lips part for a shaky breath, goosebumps rising all along his skin from your immense allure.

Your tail wriggling excitedly, you declare, “Then you better finish this. C’mon, you’re not going to let a fellow devil die here, are you?”

And that’s how you get the Angel Devil dressed down to nothing, his petite and beautiful frame now on full display as he stands at the end of your bed. There isn’t a mark on his body, not a shred of evidence that he’s been through war and turmoil. He’s flawless as far as you can tell, like a statue crafted for the gods. “You’re so pretty.” You say, transfixed by the shroud of his wings and the halo that glimmers brighter than anything you own.

Your thighs squeezing him by the waist, he quickly melts back into your plush skin. His member, still stiff and laid over your pelvis, aches for your touch. Moving over your compliment, he states, “I’ve never done this before.” You get chills from this admission, gaze flickering from his cock to his eyes. “Do you want to?” You ask and when he responds with an assured but wispy, “Yes” you immediately follow up with, “Don’t keep me waiting.”

On the heels of your command, Angel winds his hips back, breath stagnating as he positions himself. He lingers on the sight of your pussy, on the shine of arousal that lies over your folds. You’re so pretty, your words echo in his head but now he’s thinking of saying that to you but his mouth is so dry he doesn’t think he can manage it. The lewd picture has his cock throbbing in his hands and you’re clearly enjoying his attention, hearts in your eyes for the devil before you.

“I’m going to put it in.” Angel’s voice is hushed as he starts to close in the gap between the two of you, his tip prodding at your entrance tentatively. He gasps at the wetness that immediately meets him, his cockhead already slathered in your juices before he's even gotten an inch in. You watch as Angel's member, long and slender with an upward tilt, starts to slide into you and it’s the most relief you’ve felt in a while because where Angel lacks in width, he makes up for in sheer length.

You sigh in pure bliss as you feel him dig into you, carve his name into your walls with the forked veins that surround his dick. The pressure of him prodding against you, the curve of his cock dragging along your insides in a way that is both thrilling and surprising, both have you taking your bottom lip in your teeth. You tremble as you feel Angel move further in with still so much to go, your thighs clenching around him and you squeak softly when the tips of his feathers tenderly brush the side of your foot.

Angel grabs your thigh and bores his nails into your flesh as his pelvis bumps against yours, finally settling the last inch inside you. He grunts so faint you almost miss it. He feels a light film of sweat developing over him, a chill running down his spine when his cock throbs in you and he can literally see it bulging in your belly.

This was nothing like the videos he’d seen. This was vibrant. It was overwhelming. Your cunt grips him so well, so firm that every little twitch is felt and it makes his whole body rattle. He fights the heaviness of his lids, the urge to just sink into the gratification of it all, and pulls back, only to jam himself back into you almost immediately. How you feel is just too enticing, he can quickly see why some humans are addicted to this.

His thrusts into you are slow and methodical, like he’s savoring every second. Angel doesn’t want to forget how much your walls cling to him as he pulls out, only ever going so far as to have the head of his cock right at the edge of your entrance. He rolls his hips hard, rocking your body and the mattress with every dip. Angel’s hand slides down your thigh almost lazily as he lurches forward until his face is right above yours.

For the first time, you’re able to see just how striking Angel’s gaze truly is. The crimson in his eyes is bold and alight with a carnal passion, making your stomach flip and serves to intensify the pressure building up in your core. He’s gorgeous, his beauty so ethereal you could easily spend your time admiring his features. It’s a shame he’s just like you, a devil, otherwise you’d have reason to crawl to him time and time again for sustenance (and fun while you’re at it).

Your first kiss with Angel is an accident, his lips crashing against yours when he starts to pound into your pliant pussy with rigorous force. His lips are thin but as soft as they looked. The kiss is awkward at first, Angel having no recollection how the rhythm of a kiss goes but you guide him, show him how to move his mouth by example and Angel learns quickly. His kiss turns tender, his lips meshing against yours while maintaining the pace at which he’s stuffing you with his cock and the combination has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your brain starts to feel fuzzy when his tongue manages to slip past your lips, hesitantly licking into your mouth before you reciprocate and the kiss turns messy.

“I think,” Angel murmurs against you, “I’m going to– going to cum soon.” He trips over his words, a heat falling over him that draws sweat beads over his temples as his movements into you become frenzied and manic. His hips jutting wildly, you feel his cock fill you more, even feeling him smash against your cervix and because you moan, he’s only encouraged to deepen his thrusts. He’s determined now, to hit that sweet spot because the noises you make are so beautiful and all for him. Angel has to admit; he’s drunk off you and greedy for you. He can feel his release building at the base of his shaft, his balls winding tight until he feels the build up of pleasure explode and crash over him in waves. You meet him with a similar reaction, the plug holding your orgasm back popping and washing him with your essence.

You cry and whine as he continues to ride out his climax, spilling his cum so far into you that hardly any spills out when he leaves you. That’s good, you need all that you can get. You breathe in deeply, a renewed vigor flooding your veins. It’s the most alive you’ve felt in days. You open your eyes, vision landing on Angel’s hand, still prominently grasping your hip while his thumb rubs circles over you. Your skin is colder without his touch, Angel finally withdrawing after lingering in the quiet for a minute or so.

“Soo,” You rise to a seat on your knees, still naked while Angel is back in his suit and tie, “What did Makima promise you? For doing this?”

“Oh,” Angel nearly forgot about the added bonus, “She said I could have all the ice cream in your fridge."

Well. You're going to give him what he was promised, aren't you?

#angel #csm #chainsaw man #csm imagine #csm x reader #csm x you #angel x you #angel x reader #csm x y/n #angel x y/n #csm smut #angel smut #chainsaw man smut #.˚₊ ੈ ʚ 🍰 ɞ ₊˚. ꒰ a little treat for angel. ꒱

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