#honeyverse
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⚠️⚠️⚠️HOG ONLINE I REPEAT HOG ONLINE ⚠️⚠️⚠️
the c!techno rp blog set in my personal au / headcanon is officially open for business at @hibernatinghog ‼️‼️‼️
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better not wake the baby - spring part 2
link to chapter on ao3- ya gotta be logged in though
Fic Summary: Jaskier isn't helpless. He'd been a shepherd before. He'd killed a wolf before. He'll slaughter again if that's the price of freedom.
Fic Rated M: explicit gore/medical descriptions and miscarriage/abortion aftermath, swearing, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, really gross attitudes towards omegas, abusive relationships, references to fucking, brief suicidal ideation, tbh I'll probably write some actual fucking later
This fic was current up and to part 17 of Honey - Sometimes the Tunnel Only Leads to Darkness and after better not wake the baby- spring part 1. You'll enjoy this fic more if you’ve read them <3
Witcher 3 + Netflix / This part is rated T for contains references to sexual stuff and swearing
heyyo @oldandkinky it's a treat for you and me we've got some plot happening
Drown yourself in crocodile tears
Curse the gods what made 'ye
Pine away for your banner year
But it better not wake the baby
How long will this go on?
How long, indeed?
bang a drum 'till the money's all gone-
but it better not wake the baby
-The Decemberists - What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World
He'd spent his first weeks on the lam in the wilds and resolves not to fucking do that again- even now that he's got his pack properly filled. It's easier to avoid Geralt in the woods but the constant trapping of game for supper wore on him as quickly as the misery of waiting out the spring rains did.
All told, he was lucky to be in this part of Redania, where itinerant work was a little easier to come by and the locals generally still observed the customs of hospitality.
He emerged from Lettenhove in time for the spring plowing and thanked the lone lucky star watching over him that the local gossips were still chattering over the white haired witcher that left weeks ago.
He was free of outrunning Geralt, for at least a little while.
Geralt was hunting him, he was sure- the scorched garden back home confirmed Geralt's rage even if Jaskier was foolish enough to think the witcher would take his flight easily. Living on the path, however, was not free and Geralt would need to slow his chase for coin.
Jaskier really hoped he wasn't banking too much on gossip to keep him ahead, or behind, Geralt.
He drifted between towns for a few weeks, living just a little better than hand to mouth, taking jobs in the fields and hunting for herbs to sell. The cuts and bruises he accumulated on jobs went away as easily as if he'd wiped them off and, more out of boredom than anything, he forms the sign of igni and a sputtering flame erupts from his fingertips. Which scares the shit of him enough that it's another week before he tries again: the signs have mixed success but he's torn between the terror of his foreign body and the desperate drive to take any advantage he can. He feels unsettled by this life- too close to what he experienced on the path, too close to the little jobs he'd take back home- feels like he's stagnating and mouldering even as he pushes his body farther beyond what he knew he should be capable of.
It's outside of Rinde that the grift begins.
It was raining- a heavy downpour through the night and into the day that seemed to follow Jaskier as he slogged through the muddy roads and only the guess-timate of Rinde being a three hour walk that forced his feet all the way to the inn.
Well, he thought it was the inn, but the unamused Ealdorman's clerk quickly dashed that presumption. The clerk mutters a curse into his ledger before asking if the amount on the posting is enough for him to just get on with it .
"Pardon?" Jaskier can't help but be polite.
"One drowner," the clerk enunciated, like Jaskier was some kind of fool, "I understand that's more a nuisance in your profession," he exaggeratedly looked down at Jaskier's chest, "but Kazimierz finally emptied the orphanage."
Oh. The medallion. The lover's medallion, smaller than Geralt's but, proclaiming an allegiance to the school of the Wolf. He'd nearly forgotten he wore it at all and had kept it around his neck merely to keep it safe for when he eventually pawned it. It must have wrested itself outside of his clothes while he hunched from the rain. With Tomek wrapped and strapped to his back and his gambeson worn to protect him from the cold- he can't even fault the clerk for his assumptions.
Before he can help himself, he's agreeing to the contract.
-----------------------
In retrospect, killing his first drowner wasn't the hardest thing he'd ever done but it was the most frightening thing he'd ever done by choice. The White Wolf killed the others a few weeks back, but the lone remnant had made enough trouble by the bridge that the ealdorman promised him room and board for a week if he'd rid them of it. The room was a barn stall and the board was a meager basket of vegetables and eggs, but he'd been on the road enough that a week with the same roof over his head was plenty.
He's so fucking stupid- but wasn't like trying to outsmart a witcher had really gotten him any progress. He knew a lot about drowners, for all that the witchers griped about contracts for them- it really was because they were a nuisance to a witcher. Hardly a monster and more of giant rancid smelling pain in the ass that mostly got handled by witchers because a crowd of them would overwhelm a normal human by the stench alone.
This was... doable if he didn't act a complete fool.
He went out the next afternoon when the rain had finally abated and found a gnarled yew tree. He climbed up and tested the boughs- swinging himself from a few of them and settling on the one with the best line of sight. He hung his pack on the branch above him and nocked his bow. He waited-
and waited-
well, fuck maybe he should've tried to track it during daylight hours.
At twilight it dragged itself out of the water- happily munching on a bullfrog. Jaskier loosed an arrow and the drowner squealed when it sank into its foot. It squalled as it tried to yank its foot off the ground- the beast didn't even wonder where it came from. He loosed a second towards the other foot but it sailed peacefully into the water. The third trapped the other foot and the drowner had enough mind to rip the fifth out of its chest.
He'd have to get closer then.
Jaskier pulled Tomek from the branch above and hopped down: he tried casting igni but panicked and the sputtering flame just alerted the drowner to his presence- the drowners' fins flaring when it turned to claw at him. It lurched forward uselessly with its feet stuck, but it kept screeching and Jaskier wondered if his ears were bleeding. He threw his whole weight behind a clean aim towards its neck.
His swing went wide and when he rolled to the side to try and not trip he ended up just bashing its skull in with the blunt side. It crumpled to the ground but he frantically hacked away at the corpse until the head was completely severed.
He vomited onto the rocky shore.
The body had stopped twitching: the gills dried out quickly and the revolting smell of rot and fish blood got stronger. Dawn was an hour or two away and Jaskier carefully crept back up the yew and pulled down his pack. He drank a little water and then a little temerian rye when his trembling wouldn't stop. He sat on the bank of the river and by the time daylight had started creeping over the body- he saw that the outside flesh was a mottled blue but the inside of the neck was grey. He stood back up and ambled back to the body, wrenching out his arrows, and kicking it over. It didn't look like a drowned person. It looked like a fish person with fine little scales and fins like a catfish. That-
that made it easier. It didn't really look like a person. if it was once a human then it hadn't been one for a very long time.
The tongue, he remembered, was the traditional proof of the kill for a drowner. Something that annoyed Geralt because of how long they were.
By this point, death had opened the jaw of the drowner's head for him and it was quick if very messy work to cut the tongue out. He panicked again. He hadn't thought ahead about what to do with the tongue. He paced the shore and panicked and panicked and panicked and until he was laughing hysterically.
The great shuddering laughter did make him feel better in a way- it made the bit of flesh in his hand seem so fucking stupid and he did do it, he'd killed a verifiable monster.
Gods he was so fucked-
he'd done it though
-behind his heaving laughter he could feel the smallest reluctant flutter of hope in his chest. no he wasn't a witcher but maybe-
maybe he could go along with the hoax better than he thought he could. Most of their contracts were small like this, right? Maybe his grift wasn't as foolish as he'd thought it was.
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He'd persuaded the ealdorman's wife to let him use her wash tub and fetch water from their well: he dragged them into the barn and stripped down. It was then he realized his smallclothes were sticky with drying slick. He felt revolted. He hadn't felt aroused but it must've happened when he was slaying the drowner. He'd been so caught up in the urgency and the terror, he hadn't noticed his body readying for what usually followed. Panic and arousal were tied together in his body. He'd known Geralt had ruined his twinges of lust but this was different. He was disgusting. A wretched example of an omega. A wretched example of a lover. He hated it. Hated his body.
But it was all he had now. His silly dream of being a bard would never happen with his scarred face. Perhaps a wandering worker that occasionally busked, but no true bard could make it without a bit of wooing and he wasn’t feeling so vain as to pretend they were easy to ignore. No good alpha would take him with the bond mark or scarred womb, even if he claimed Geralt's death. He wasn't soft anywhere an omega should be. Not anymore.
He stood above the bath a long time, avoiding looking at his blurry reflection. He tries casting igni again and his (traitorous) body didn’t hesitate to actually call the chaos this time so at least he was staring into a frothy steaming bath instead. The minerals in the water filled his chest in a different way than the well water at home: which now that he thought about it, very rarely steamed with as much fervor either. He's told the air by the sea is salty in a good way, the only things he could compare it to are Kaer Morhen's springs and the Pontar, which sounds so strange and foreign he can hardly imagine it. Maybe he'll go to the coast, it's just as good a direction as any, become a sailor, just because he's playing Witcher now doesn't mean he can't try to wheedle a life aloft.
The water was a bearable temperature by the time he finally calmed his thoughts enough to step in and it was like he cast axii on himself, the hot water sluicing all his thoughts away.
He made up for the lack of payment by winning a few boxing matches: the smattering of scars on his torso and face were enough to convince the local tavern owner that he'll give a good show. The food in the basket left as payment by the ealdorman's wife dwindled quickly- he honestly hadn't planned on staying for the full week- but Zosia seemed to have a soft spot for him because a few more eggs and turnips and even a loaf of bread rolled in.
He paced the fields some- he killed a wolf prowling around and traded the pelt for a pair of boots and a handsome belt. The belt, regrettably and unavoidably, got traded for a fresh quiver of arrows and a proper sharpening for Tomek and his knife.
All told; a week earned him a purse of coppers (perhaps a lean two crowns when added up), Zosia ladling him a secret pot of milk as he leaves, and pointers to a few towns where he might find a little work.
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He stumbled his way through the rest of the spring, mostly making coin helping with the tilling and taking on a contract for a warg which wasn't so different from killing a wolf besides the fact that the medallion that earns him the contract also earns him the missive to take his coin and leave before sundown. The same goes for flashing his medallion when he sells to the apothecarist- less bartering on the prices or the quality, but the same directive to leave the damned town the same day.
Town to town he goes and mingles and meets a handful of people who spot his medallion and ask after their friend Geralt . Jaskier briefly, in a moment of near insanity, wonders if there's a second witcher named Geralt of the Wolf School that just never returns to the Kaer for the Geralt they tell him of is gentle and carries a tome of poetry and permits brave children to ride Roach.
But the details remain the same- white hair, School of the Wolf, and a predilection for plums and brunettes- and Jaskier was forced to hold up the possibility that Geralt was a master manipulator of a caliber he didn't even know was possible to have charmed people in so many places into believing he was kind .
He supposed he too once thought Geralt was kind, for an afternoon, and perhaps they just never frustrated him enough for Geralt to lose his patience. The lone exception is an elf in the market who proclaims Jaskier and the other members of his guild "fine enough" but asks him to spit on Geralt the next time they meet as payback for "whatever striga crawled up his ass and died."
He agreed to do it for the both of them and feels vindicated when the elf elaborates that the witcher had been good-natured enough until their last meeting two years ago.
Jaskier traveled, he worked, he met folk foul and fair.
He survived and, for a time, that was enough.
-----------------------
Towards the end of the day, Nenneke was sealing her correspondence with wax, when Anka informed her that "an acquaintance has come by on an important matter." Anka added that it's a witcher but not the same one as last time, she thought, she's not sure. Anka's devotion to the goddess was admirable but her attention for anything but nurturing plants was rather lacking- Nenneke was surprised Anka noticed a visitor at the gate at all. Nenneke sank into her chair a bit, closing her eyes as she drew in a long breath, because she was getting a little done with Geralt breathing down her neck like she was his errand boy.
"Make sure there's a bed available," she finally said, resisting the urge to just turn him away, "and tell him I'll attend to him when I'm done."
Done ended up being close to supper, after the postulant's vows of evening silence had taken hold: so she arranged for Geralt to eat with her in the hall outside the infirmary ward. She was tucking into a bowl of pottage when the witcher arrived but it wasn't Geralt that hesitantly strode across the hall.
It was his little omega who wasn't so little anymore. His frame had thickened out and he was bearing more than a few scars- but the mating mark on his neck was still clear to the world. Anka must have arranged for him to bathe as well because he smelled merely of soap and soft citrusy omega nervousness. She carefully took a long breath and couldn't detect the acrid smell of terror he had last time or Geralt for that matter.
This was going to be interesting.
"Priestess Nenneke," he said softly, taking the seat across from her, his frame curled small as he humbly bowed his head to her, "thank you for taking the time to see me."
"You weren't 'the witcher' I expected to see," she said, leaning back and gesturing for him to accept the bowl across from her, she huffed a little laugh, "I'd be a poor priestess of Melitele if I turned away a traveler."
He gave a little snort and the two ate in silence for a while. If Nenneke were younger, she would've tried to pry more from him: but he wasn't her first battered omega to show up without his alpha and he certainly wouldn't be her last. She wordlessly pressed a second serving on him- he'd bulked up a bit but there was a leanness to his cheeks she didn't like in omegas.
"Has Geralt come to see you?" he finally asked, eyes trained on pulling the crust off his bread.
"Since we last met?" He nodded, "Yes, once. About a month ago- after Belleteyn." She watched him carefully and, instead of a spike of worry, his smell remained carefully nervous.
"Did he take Essi?" he started to press the inside of his bread flat.
"He couldn't if he tried," Nenneke said plainly, his eyes darted to her face and searched her eyes, "her rearing is in the temple's hands now. Besides," she gave an arch smile, "he can't tell her from Embla," there's no mistaking the relief that floods out of him and she started to feel a real fondness for him when his shoulders go slack.
"Is she happy here?"
"Truthfully, I don't see her often," Nenneke gave a little hum, "but we take care of our girls. She's the temple's now and I wouldn't even let you take her."
There was a pause as he took that in, he must have settled on accepting it because he sighed and turned a more serious glance to Nenneke, "Thank you, for taking care of her and easing my mind," he chewed his lip a bit, "I suppose I should tell you I've been traveling and working a bit as a witcher. The Witcher Yulek."
"I don't suppose it's with his permission you are doing this," she said, Jaskier shook his head, "you're too old for Vesemir to try and make a real witcher out of you anyway."
Jaskier swallowed and Nenneke could smell a load of trouble.
"Why are you here, Yulek?" she asked him firmly, "you knew when you signed Essi into our care that she'd not be leaving until she was an adult. Geralt isn't stupid enough to break the peace just to get her away from me."
"Will you tell him I was here?" she could smell anxiety begin to bloom in his scent.
"Is that what you want?" she retorted sharply and wrinkled her nose from his scent bursting with emotions, "I suppose that answers that. My allegiance isn't to him and I'll forgive the insult you'd think it would be," she scrutinized him intensely and saw his hands tighten on his lap like a child getting a scolding- she felt herself soften a bit, for he wasn't yet much more than a child, "my duty is to the people seeking Melitele's help here, now what is it you came here for?"
"My body," he said quietly, "I don't recognize it. Something is happening to me. He was going to kill me: he was going too far. And then I noticed- the changes. You must see-"
He wordlessly took a knife from his belt and cut into the flesh inside his arm- over a spot where she noticed a curious handful of similar scars.
He must have done this before.
She kept herself in her seat and the two sat in silence as the blood quickly clotted- before he could bleed out- far quicker than should have been possible. She cycled through thoughts- a curse, some sort of latent skill for chaos, the trials-
She still wet her apron and tended to it, wiping away the blood as she'd done so many times to so many omegas.
"It's not the food," he continued, "I've been on my own since before Birke- I don't-" he trailed off.
That ruled out going through the Choice like Leo.
"He used to drink something,"Jaskier said, "some kind of fertility treatment, could that have changed me?"
"That doesn't sound likely," she said frankly, "for a draught to do that, it would need to be very concentrated in his body, not yours." Nenneke looked him over again, new eyes examining the way his shoulders had filled out and the thickness of his hair and the scars scrawled across his face, "is there anything beyond what you have shown me?"
"I can cast a sign," he bit his lip, "sometimes."
"May I touch you?" she asked and Jaskier nodded. She patted along his body, the nodes where chaos was prone to collecting, and felt the latent hum she associated with the witcher adepts.
How strange-
"Did you meet Eskel?" she could recall, many years ago, Eskel studying at the temple with all the other Witcher adepts and massaging a lame kitten back to health, "he has more chaos in his hands then the stones of power."
Jaskier's body locking under her hands was answer enough, "we wintered together," he said through his teeth.
"If that is what is changing you," she said carefully, "I think you need to go back to Kaer Morhen to find out- that's beyond the scope of anyone here. They were secretive enough about that before the school fell."
"Was he always like that?" Jaskier gritted out, "was Geralt always like that?"
"I've never seen him take an omega before if that's what you're asking," Nenneke said. She watched Jaskier seem to collect himself, letting out a shuddering breath as he unlocked his jaw and kneaded his palms into his thighs.
"I've met people," he said, mouth full of piss and vinegar, like each word was pulled from his teeth, "who speak of a Geralt I've never met. Kind. Gentle. Funny, even. I can't imagine you being a friend to an arse like Geralt, was he like that once or are they liars?"
"People change," she said carefully, "he's had his shortcomings. But-"
"But?"
"The summer after Blaviken-" she said, "he changed. Blaviken was bad enough- but the summer after was especially cruel to him."
"It's like some kind of poison in his mind-"
Oh. The basilisk.
She hadn't even thought of that.
She needed to think.
She invited the boy, Yulek, Jaskier, Julian- whatever name worked- to stay at the temple while she thought.
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Jaskier ended up staying at the temple for a whole week: earning his keep milling medicinal ingredients through the day. Nenneke introduced him to the novice Sorcha, a former Temerian Blue Stripes, who gave him a dirty tutoring in bomb making, battle dressing, and making medicine.
He leaves Ellander with a haircut, a silver dagger, and the dread that he must eventually, actually, realistically, return to the Kaer.
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A/N- Encouragement and kind words will always make me more excited to write stuff <3 and feel free to dash off a message to me! I haven’t really made any friends in the fandom yet :3c
Thanks for reading, friends!
Rough and tumble ragged drafts on tumblr here: Actual Fic Better Not Wake The Baby
This fic is based on OldandKinky’s Honey-verse and you can also find them here: Honey-verse on Ao3 and OldandKinky on Ao3
and if you like my writing, I’ve also got “Varieties of Exile”
#actual fic better not wake the baby#geraskier#honeyverse#jaskier#geralt of rivia#geralt/jaskier#geralt x jaskier#witcher au#the witch writes
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images for tulsa prison blues in order:
The Three main players: Dallas Winston, age unknown. Johnathan "Johnny" Cade, Jr, age 16. Ponyboy Curtis, age 14.
Darrel Curtis Sr, personal photo, 1955. Jennifer Curtis, personal photo in 1957. Darrel "Darry" Curtis Jr., on the Will Rogers football team in 1962.
Keith "Two-Bit" Mathews, your esteemed reporter, age 18, Dallas Winston, age 16, and Sylvia Davis, age 16.
#the outsiders#honeyverse#mine: fic#mine: ao3#this is me rehosting it bc imgur is going kaput but also if you wanna watch read why not
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New Honey! Get it while it's hot!
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I don't want to write new life smp fic.
I don't want ideas. I don't want a new Jimmy ship, i don't want to write gem/oli or even gem/oli/pearl, i don't want to get into seepeasound. I don't want to get inspired by slashing Jimmy with Scott fwhip joel sausage oli martyn cpk anyone.
I want to finish my wips. I have so many wips. Behold my sea of wips. I made a list of ones i think i might get too "soon" and it was 12, and didn't include anyone after the first day of burning man.
Please, my muse, on this one leave your lawn chair at home, don't slam into my back and knock me down with more block people kissing.
If you do please please please let's write under 3k again? We did it twice, not even counting the 100 word drabble.
I just want to work on my limited life fic and my empires s2 fic and my burning man au and my larpers au and maybe honeyverse.
PLEASE, MUSE, PLEASE.
#me#my fic#burning man au#larper au#honeyverse#just getting the tags going for my own happiness#i can act like something is happening
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i think what i might do for the honeyverse blogs is like. have them go online in batches. that way i can start doing things w/ them n have less of the pressure i put on myself w/ this project
#paq.txt#honeyverse#ooooooo then i could do fun announcement posts w/ each blog.............#we shall see. we shall see#it'd be nice if i could use my main to talk about this but swagever
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Alpha Daddy by RK Pierce
If you like omega verse stories, you will love this one. It’s a bit different than most other omega verse stories I’ve read. Which was nice. The writing is fantastic. I devoured this book, it’s that good! The banter between the FMC and the MMC is entertaining. The spice…is hot. Definitely bookshelf worthy!
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Fic Rec Masterlist
As requested, here is the list of all the fics recommended for my road trip :) Thank you to everyone who sent them in!
*if I missed any, let me know*
Many of these are 18+ and please read any warnings
Jake "Hangman" Seresin:
Damn Those Dog tags - @horseshoegirl (series)
Don't Hang'em Til Noon - @sailor-aviator (series)
If You Please - @the-authoress-writes (one-shot)
This is Only Temporary - @lenafromthenordiccoven (mini-series)
The Backup - @ereardon (series; in progress)
Snowed In - @ereardon (mini-series)
Sleepy Baby - @discount-shades (series)
Contract Spouse - @discount-shades (series)
Dead or Alive - @discount-shades (series)
Fuck: The Universe - @roosterbruiser (series)
Snitches Get Stitches - @goldenseresinretriever (series)
Oh, Deer - @wkndwlff (one-shot)
She Blinded Me with Science - @wkndwlff (one-shot)
Pulled Strings - @missathlete31 (one-shot)
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw:
it's a slow build, baby, until afterburn - @callsign-madusa (series)
Terms of Endearment - @ohtobeleah (series)
The Actress and The Aviator - @greenorangevioletgrass (series)
That Summer - @ereardon (series)
Golden Hour - @ereardon (series; also with Bob; in progress)
Cruel Summer - @roosterbruiser (series; with Jake)
Cardinal Rule - @mamachasesmayhem (series; in progress)
Heavy is the Head - @mamachasesmayhem (series; in progress)
Honeyverse - @mamachasesmayhem (series)
Je te Laisserai Des Mots - @jupitercomet (series)
How You Play the Game - @roosterforme (series)
The Boyfriend Experience - @notroosterbradshaw (series)
Sunday Scaries - @wkndwlff (one-shot)
Bottoms Up - @wkndwlff (one-shot)
Ao3:
Wingmen - TheDarkSeaofSecrets
My Brother's Best Friend - Lyndun407
The Mission - Lyndun407
Recommended Masterlists:
Masterlist - @roosterforme
Masterlist - @wkndwlff
Masterlist - @bobfloydsbabe
Masterlist - @demxters
Masterlist - @hangmanssunnies
Masterlist - @top-hhun
@talkfastromance4
Masterlist - @callsign-phoenix
Masterlist - @kryptonitejelly
Masterlist - @callsigndragon
@callsignlucky
Masterlist - @jupitercomet
Masterlist - @beyondthesefourwalls
#jake seresin#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#top gun maverick#top gun#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw
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I LIVE for positivity night, so thank you for hosting one 🥹
First and foremost, I am absolutely in love with Baby, I’m High Octane and am so excited for any future updates! It’s phenomenal and I devour every word you give us!
@hangmansgbaby is my platonic soulmate, the sharer of my brain cell, and my very best friend. We’ve been through some shit together 😅 but I couldn’t be more grateful that we’ve stayed as close as we are! I fell in love with her Always, Darling Jake series over a year ago (what?!) and have continually fallen for every single story she writes! Pucking Finally, a Javy x Nat hockey fic, is incredible and I CANNOT WAIT for yall to get to read Royally Pucked (the Jake x OC!!!! next story). It’s amazing. As is You Burn With Us, a Hunger Games x TGM crossover. I don’t have words for how good all of her writing is, but I can absolutely tell you they deserve all the love and praise in the world! Gbaby, I love you with my whole heart! 💕
@sarahsmi13s is another one of my early days babies! I’m so grateful for her friendship and always being happy to have me bounce ideas off of her! She also has SO MANY incredible series that are underrated. We bonded over my love for her Tell Them series and I absolutely latched onto J&S immediately after. I love you, Vin!
@roosterforme has been such a kind, loving, and supportive friend in the whole time I’ve known her! I’m wholeheartedly obsessed with Adult Education and almost had a heart attack when the queen Bradshaw Baddie™️ wrote a Jake fic! She also went and made me fall in love with a Bradley in Old Habits Die Hard. Beer Boy and Sugar FOR LIFE
@thedroneranger has been a sheer force of positivity through so many things! I’m so thankful that I’ve made a friend in Jay and that she loves GP as much as I do 😂. The To-Do List is one of my all time favorite series and was a huge inspiration for how I structured The Honeyverse! Coffin Cuddler™️ till the end of time
@trickphotography2 has been a supporter for quite a while now and I so enjoy all of our conversations! Her D-Day & Tis The Damn Season series have me in absolute chokehold and I pester the hell out of her regularly for little sneak peaks 😉
@callsigncurse is a new friend and I ADORE her! Snow is such a precious nugget and I’m so happy we found each other. Her Evergreen Falls series is absolute magic and yall should keep an eye out for it 😍
@aviatorobsessed ANDY. My sweet lovey! I live for her comments on my fics AND our conversations. I’m so happy we’ve gotten to be better friends and notifications from you make my heart so happy!
@teacupsandtopgun BETHHHHH. Beth is the best with the most thoughtful comments on everything and is honestly such a sweet soul! I’m fully hooked on Jake & Flick and still come back for more pain because it’s SO DAMN GOOD. Also, Beth’s moodboards are STUNNING and I swoon over them every time.
@seresinhangmanjake holy moly, I am so in love with the Oh, Baby! and The One I Want series she has. Her words paint a stunning scene and I always feel like I’m right in the middle of it!
@ohtobeleah is currently murdering my feelings with Was It Over? It’s so raw and real and emotional and my heart breaks more with every chapter. I also adore I.R.I.S and will forever love her badassery! I’m looking forward to getting to know her better in the new year!
@na-ta-sh-aa I honest to God teared up over your sweet submission and want to frame it!
To my newest friends @dizzybee03 @jynxmirage @shanimallina87 @djs8891 @taytaylala12 @capoteera @hookslove1592 :
I could not imagine writing without yall! Your kind words, screeching at me in reblogs or DMs and overall support make me smile so big that my face hurts! I’m so thankful y’all are always happy to let me bounce ideas off of you and encourage me when I’m struggling. I’m sure I’ve missed a few of my nuggets, but I love them all so much 💕
you've been such an incredible supporter of baby, i'm high octane, and i'm so grateful for your feedback and your kind words. happy new year! 🤍
end of the year positivity night 💌
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was able to do a very quick n very rough first draft of my c!quackity design earlier 👍👍
definitely gonna change her eye design, might change her halo design? we’ll see. oh n here’s a clearer sketch of the tattoo on his chest since it’s a little difficult to tell what’s on it
it’s one of those judgement scales but it’s got a bleeding heart on one side n a feather on the other. i though it was pretty fitting n also just cool lookin :)
oh n i’m legally obligated to tag @revivebur
#paq.art#honeyverse#c!quackity#dsmp quackity#if anybody's got any suggestions i'm open to hearing them#as i am very much still figuring things out
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Better Not Wake The Baby - Part 1 - The Winter
hey y’all, I’m obsessed with @oldandkinky‘s Honey-verse and a few months ago I started drafting up a fic-- thank you friend for letting me play in your sandbox <3 This isn’t a polished draft, and it’s not all of what I have written/planned, but I figured posting a bit would get me off my ass and writing more.
Fic Summary: Jaskier isn't helpless. He'd been a shepherd before. He'd killed a wolf before. He'll slaughter again if that's the price of freedom.
Rated M: explicit gore/medical descriptions and miscarriage/abortion aftermath, swearing, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, really gross attitudes towards omegas, abusive relationships, references to fucking, brief suicidal ideation
This fic was current up and to part 17 of Honey - Sometimes the Tunnel Only Leads to Darkness. You'll enjoy this fic more if you’ve read them <3
Witcher 3 + Netflix / This part is rated M / Incomplete
Make your moan of your lot in life
Split your mind half crazy
Gouge your eyes with a butter knife
But it better not wake the baby
-The Decemberists - What a Terrible World, What a Beautiful World
Lambert carefully scraped the dead tissue in Jaskier's womb- he can hear Geralt scowling in the hall with Vesemir but he focuses on carefully prying the empty sac out from the scarred flesh. There'd been a fight all morning about what to do but Vesemir eventually demanded to check Jaskier's womb again and it was clear there was something wrong with the afterbirth. Another argument about what to do- but between the four only Eskel and Lambert had any experience with birthing animals. It was distasteful to think of Jaskier that way but humans are animals.
Lambert has the highest tolerance for potions and, before they'd brook an argument, he'd wordlessly thrown back the whole shot of Cat before kneeling between Jasker's shuddering legs. With his blown out eyes, he could clearly see the ruptured tissue where the baby had been- stubbornly holding on and poisoning Jasker's blood. He'd last used this curette to cut out a siren's vocal chords-
he doesn't want to think too hard about what kind of fucked up metaphor that made.
"troublesome little bitch-" Eskel mutters, methodically massaging Jaskier's throat to coax him to swallow the watered down spirits. His face pulls into a scowl, "bet you're enjoying all this attention, whore-" and he wrenches Jaskier's chin up- forcing his head deeper into the furs and jerking his whole torso-
"fucking shit," Lambert pulls out the curette as fresh blood starts bleeding from the jagged cut- Geralt's pacing stops.
"Handling it?" Vesemir placidly calls through the door.
Eksel and Lambert share a reluctant glance before Lambert gives him a dirty look and Eskel jerks his chin to the door- "Little Flower has a little flesh wound- Lamb'll tend it with the rest"
"can't you just do your part?" Lambert hisses, trying to figure out whether it's better to wait for the new gash to clot up itself or if igni is in order, "or will you beat this horse 'till he's dead?"
"better a dead horse than an useless omega," Eskel snipes back, but after a darting look at Jaskier's greying skin he does go back to persuading his throat to swallow some broth. Lambert still can't tell how much of Eskel's sour is from jealousy or misogyny. It doesn't really matter- he's feeding both to Geralt. Lambert turned to the side table with his medical kit and gently pressed a fingerful of yarrow into Jaskier's womb- which isn't an ideal way to stop the bleeding but will slow it enough to at least finish excising the necrotic sac. another scar for Jaskier's battered womb.
one problem at a time. Lambert took a long shuddering breath, wondering if he could afford to pass out himself after this. It takes about half an hour for him to finish cutting away the dead flesh and staunch the bleeding. When he's done and cleaning his tools, Eskel is giving a curiously somber look at the thickly corded tissue. Well, Lambert supposes, it's not that odd to be stricken by a dead wanted baby or an omega's suffering but it's odd that Eskel seems reluctantly pained by Jaskier's suffering. When he doesn't think Lambert can see, Lambert caught him hesitantly rubbing circles on Jaskier's scenting glands.
He doesn't say anything, fine with mutely cleaning his tools while Eskel tips white honey down Jaskier's throat. But when they can hear Geralt leave the hall to fetch a bath, Vesemir going down to the kitchen to check on supper, Eskel lets out a little sigh and brushes the sweaty hair pasted to Jaskier's forehead.
"He's a bit young for all this," he mutters out, "barely a man, too young for motherhood." There's a long pause where Lambert tries to think of any response he could give and Eskel continues on, he turns away to the stack of clean cloths and starts wetting one with spirits, "I don't know what Geralt's thinking."
"I'm thinking we need to bury this," Lambert gestured to the knotted flesh, "and the rest of it while we're at it. This place is haunted enough without a botchling."
"I'm being serious ass-" Eskel groaned.
"I am too," Lambert replied, mindlessly re-spooling the ends of their thread, "we need to bury them as soon as the ground softens, can you imagine trying to root one out of this place?"
"Give Vesemir a broom, a goat, and a week. He'd get it done," Eskel started wiping the clots from Jaskier's thighs, "What are we going to do with him?"
"Jaskier or Geralt?"
"Either, both- fuck. He's going to kill him sooner or later, and I don't know what to do when that finally happens," Eskel looked up at Lambert, and Lambert met his gaze. There was something on the edge of frightened in Eskel's gaze, an animal uncertainty that Lambert couldn't pin down, something curiously strange about the way Eskel's hands gently tended to Jaskier's bloodied flesh after the way he'd wrenched him earlier, "Lambert, what are we going to do?"
Lambert thought of a hundred things to spit at him, instead he picked his words carefully, "I think you need to decide if you want to help Jaskier live or help Geralt get rid of him." He swallowed, watching Eskel start mulling the words over, "I know I never want to do this," he gestured to the rotting afterbirth, "again and I know Jaskier is stronger than you think."
Eskel didn't say anything more and Lambert didn't press. Lambert mutely takes his toolkit away when Geralt brings in the first of the bath water and Eskel leaves after helping Geralt lower him into the tub.
The two join Vesemir for supper and none mention the empty places at the table.
.
His health takes a turn for the worse the evening after he lost the second baby- Jaskier later works out he'd lost three days to the brain fever. His memories are fractured and foggy and he thinks he remembers Lambert between his legs and Eskel pouring fire down his throat.
The day his bleeding stops, Jaskier feels the most clear headed he'd been since the first winter's snowfall in Kaer Morhen. Those days after Eskel's axii left his mind and the chill from the ascent left the marrow of his bones. The fever's barely broken. He wakes up to an empty room and putters over to the window. He closes his eyes and thinks of Essi and his parents and their silly little village. It's time for this to be over- this wrenching back to life and into hell. He leans over the edge and he falls.
Well, he imagines falling. Imagines the delicious slipping away from life. Imagines the final pain of smashing on the rocks this time and being too mangled for the witchers to peel his body off the battlements and leaving him to rot like the bones in the moat.
Eskel fucking wishes. How he'd gloat that he got Geralt back. How Geralt would let his memory fall away, a footnote in his long story.
Through the pain rolling up his spine and the crackling salt on his skin, Jaskier feels a new wave of rage and spite and raw grief clawing its way through his body.
Those fuckers fucking wish.
Jaskier would escape. He'd been stupid and childish and careless before. Geralt tracked him because he'd been predictable. Had leverage over him because he cared about Essi and Lambert. Could hurt him because Jaskier wasn't fast enough. He'd do better. Lambert didn't need protecting. He'd find something Geralt loved and hold it in bondage for Essi.
Geralt was going to kill him eventually: he had his whole lifetime to get faster and stronger and smarter. However long that lifetime was.
Jaskier isn't helpless. He'd been a shepherd before. He'd killed a wolf before. He'll slaughter again if that's the price of freedom.
.
Laying on his side, looking out the window, brings a clarity of mind Jaskier’s not sure he’s felt in Kaer Morhen before. They’re still in the middling of winter which feels at odds with how much has happened since he was pulled from Roach’s saddle. Come the spring he has no doubts Geralt is going to take him along the Path again. He’s too paranoid about leaving Jaskier alone to possibly leave him with Vesemir, who hadn’t been sympathetic but would draw lines when needs must. Geralt would never give him that kind of reprieve. Even if Jaskier used all his softness and vulnerability to beguile Geralt into letting him stay, Jaskier wasn’t too proud to admit he didn’t have the skills to survive the Kadwaeni countryside if he managed to escape. Temeria or Redania would be much better.
Geralt came into the room, so quietly Jaskier is sure he wouldn’t have known if it wasn’t for the damned bond which gave him a preternatural sense for where the alpha was. He can feel a tense shiver rolling up his spine but instead he forces himself to soften- “lay with me Geralt?”
“What do you want?” Geralt said, his voice still by the door. Jaskier could cut the tension with a knife, he thought wryly, if Geralt ever let him hold one again.
“I want to talk to you about something,” Jaskier said, hoping he sounds tired and innocent. It must work because he can feel the thick blanket pulled from his sweaty skin and Geralt lines their bodies up, his broad chest pressed against Jaskier’s back and his arm loosely held around his aching middle. He hesitantly places his arm over Geralt’s, “do you remember what you said? That things could be… could be good between us?”
“If you let them,” he can feel Geralt’s rumbling voice through his ribs. Geralt is warm, always warm unless the potions are coursing chills or shuddering hot through him, and Jaskier very purposefully eases himself deeper into Geralt. He forces himself into being pliant and soft.
He gently draws Geralt’s hand in front of his face, daintily traces the dips and lines of his palm. He keeps his touch sparing, cautious and light. “Geralt,” he breathes, “can we try that?”
Jaskier felt Geralt lock up behind him, the fingers in front of his face giving a little reflexive spasm. The arms around him becoming a gibbet- a cage perfectly enclosing his body. “Why now, little bird?” Geralt muttered, “why should I trust you won’t stab my eye this time?”
“Because I’m tired now,” Jaskier lets a warble into his voice and agonizingly curls closer to the arms around him, “Geralt, I’m so tired of fighting, please, please, let’s start over.” Geralt is silent for a long time and Jaskier can feel real hot thick wet sobs rising up his throat choking him. “I’ll be good,” he cries into Geralt’s palm, “please I’m so tired I’ll be good I'm sorry I kept ruining it Geralt I’m ready to be good please Geralt please be good. Let me be good please-“
He feels panic roiling up when Geralt eases himself up and rolls Jaskier on his back, but Geralt seems only interested in studying Jaskier’s face. It’s splotchy and mottled he knows, his hitching sobs stopping him from saying anything besides “please” as he tries to see Geralt’s face through his tears. He wonders if he’s overplayed it and flinches from the blur he sees on the edge of his vision, but it’s Geralt’s hand cupping his cheeks and brushing the tears off.
“Easy there,” Geralt murmurs and his hand moves. If Jaskier liked him, he’d call it something close to caressing; Geralt paws at his sides, his arms, his shoulders, thumbs along his bond mark until Jaskier’s breath evens and his eyes clear up a bit. Geralt leans down until their foreheads and the tips of their noses are just touching and looks into Jaskier’s eyes. He rubs their noses together, scenting the air and Jaskier, “hello little bird, my name is Geralt.”
he's hiccuping around the snot in his throat and warbles out, "Hello Master Witcher, I'm Jaskier," he feels nearly proud when he snuffles, "I'm sure you've heard a lot of things about me, care to guess which ones are true?"
Jaskier’s earned a reprieve.
.
"I'd like it if you courted me properly: songs and flowers and all that. We could start again like we should have."
.
Some of the wolves are better at hiding their surprise and trepidation than others. None of them comment that the underlying stench of misery doesn't lift, but Geralt's indifference to it has left the other wolves to tread carefully. As expected, Vesemir takes Jaskier’s changed attitude with the natural grace and detachment he’d displayed for the entirety of Jaskier’s stay in Kaer Morhen. Little changing besides occasionally revealing some little nicety of life that Geralt appreciated; things Jaskier could do like arranging the bottles in his pack to face outward neatly or rubbing his scent on Geralt’s bracers.
Lambert kept a wary distance, keeping just out of Jaskier’s reach. Seeming caught somewhere between not wanting to rock the boat and deeply curious about Jaskier’s changed tune. That was hard. Keeping his face demure and calm while Lambert’s eyes bored into his skull and Jaskier could nearly feel the questions about to tumble out of his mouth.
Eskel was a different story. He wondered if Eskel could see right through him, hovering around each corner Jaskier dared to tread these days. He didn’t exactly say anything- not anything new anyway- but there was a new intensity to the way he badgered Geralt about his useless omega and a sneer curling around his lips when Geralt snapped back at him.
He knew Witchers couldn’t read minds- at least not the wolves. If they could it wouldn’t have taken any of them very long to realize how badly Jaskier wanted out. Eskel could get him to open his mind with Axii, but he doubted Geralt would stoop to that again so soon. He didn't think Geralt was the type to tempt fate like that so soon. Geralt-
Geralt was... a lot. Jaskier was sure if this was how Geralt wooed him from the start, he'd be love-drunk goner. Geralt had taken to the task of properly courting Jaskier very seriously: mending the holes in his clothes so carefully Jaskier could hardly feel the usually chafing stitches and taking the choicest cuts of meat off his plate for Jaskier. He told Jaskier long detailed, albeit largely technical, stories of his travels on the Path when asked and was mostly chaste when he kissed and held Jaskier good night. He could have pressed the point and made Geralt clear out another room for him to sleep in, but Jaskier could privately admit that the glimmer of hope it gave Geralt was better than trying to rest in the other unaired private quarters of Kaer Morhen for his long-game. In return; Jaskier dutifully digs through the library and reads poems and excerpts from the bestiaries to Geralt in bed, he trains his hands to idly reach out for Geralt when they are beside each other, and asks Geralt to help him memorize what should be kept stocked in their packs when they finally walk the Path again. He figures out which of Geralt's furs is a prized hunt and covers it in his scent.
He doesn't ask Geralt about the nights he is absent from their beds nor question the challenging grin Eskel gives him when he scents the other witcher over Geralt. Eskel can fuck Geralt on every surface of Kaer Morhen if he wishes to- if the alternative is fucking Geralt sooner or some catty brawl that draws Geralt's attention, Jaskier is content to let Eskel be smug.
The days pass in starts and stops and Jaskier notices the changes to his body slowly. He endears himself to Vesemir by asking for chores and training. Geralt rubs his back approvingly after he starts walking and jogging and running the keep; after all, how's he supposed to walk along Roach if his legs are weak as a colt's? The early mornings in the greenhouse teach him about arenaria and hellebore and the proper ways to dry and cure each for Geralt's kit. Vesemir doesn't say anything about being an extra and expensive mouth to feed on the path, but he takes great pains to teach Jaskier the value of reagents and where to look for them himself.
The first thing he notices is how quickly his legs fill out and thicken past they'd ever been before until they look like a soldier's. That one is easy to ignore, given the steady diet of thick stews Geralt presses into his hands and how the cold winds over the blue mountains hasten his pace over the battlements.
The second takes longer to notice and when he does is more jarring and unnerving. Looking back, it should have been more clear when he thinks of the little nicks and bruises he'd written off. The perpetual aches and pains his life seems to be held together with. He's alone in the greenhouse, paring down some han brush when he lops off the tip of his ring finger. Hardly a mortal wound to be sure but gods awful painful and bleeding into the soil and needing stitches and he quickly wraps his finger in his apron. He debates calling for help and apparently thinks it over a lot longer than he thought because when he decides to just dash over to the medical cupboard himself and burn the wound closed, the tip of his finger has fused back to his finger. It's still a deep gash, but the little bit that was still attached had begun to knit itself back together. He vomits into a bucket of goat shit, looks at the finger, vomits again and goes to find someone to sew it up.
Lambert kindly doesn't mention the smell of bile and that night Vesemir smacks the back of his head and forces them all to a dinner of liver and giblets.
He is cautious and frightened, for one of Kaer Morhen's many lessons is to never get cocky.
.
it's a stolen moment before the last frost when Jaskier and Lambert are alone in the scullery: he drew Lambert's forehead down to his- "Promise me you'll winter here next year," there's a strange resolve in Jaskier's voice that Lambert doesn't know how to interpret. Brows pressed against each other, Lambert can smell a smokey haze through the acrid stench of misery that always clings to Jaskier.
"What are you planning?" Standing between the scouring sinks and the wash copper, Lambert can almost pretend they're somewhere normal. Some little domestic fantasy- working friends at a great house, lovers owning an inn together, young acolytes at the temple, back in his extinct village about to bring the traveling bard Jaskier to his mother.
"Lambert," Jaskier took a long whooshing breath, Lambert's pulled back to reality, back to knowing this is probably the last time he'll see Jaskier before Geralt takes them back on the Path, "Lambert just promise me you'll be here by Saovine."
"Will you be here?" Lambert wasn't sure he wanted the answer, but Jaskier gave a soft little omega croon he'd never heard before and pulled his hands down from Lambert's head. His legs turned to jelly and he gritted his teeth to steady himself as Jaskier gently took his hands and rubbed against the knuckles. Lambert felt miserable himself- felt like a charlatan for preening under Jaskier's sweet little omega softness and Lambert didn't do anything to deserve it besides failing to protect him.
"Maybe, maybe I won't," Jaskier pulled his head back and peered up at him, "but I'll need you if I am." There's a raw weariness in Jaskier's eyes, "after- after the night you promised me you could take care of yourself. You promised. That I didn't need to worry about you. I need you to promise me you'll be back."
"I could kill him," Jaskier's eyes fluttered shut, his scars winking at Lambert. Lambert isn't even sure where the words come from because for all the idle dreams he'd had of bashing Geralt and Eskel's heads in, he'd never said them aloud with any conviction. Jaskier is quiet for a long time: their breathing and Lambert's racing heart the only sounds in the scullery.
"I won't make you a kinslayer," Jaskier finally said, opening his eyes to look over Lambert's shoulder, gently pressing him back. Lambert feels a pitiful childish whine climbing up his throat and Jaskier rests his hands on Lambert's chest to settle him. He would if Jaskier asked.
"I'd kill him for you," he echoed mindlessly and Jaskier hesitantly laid his head on Lambert's shoulder- he'd never done that fully awake or aware. Lambert resisted the urge to hold him, but Jaskier carefully moved his arms to hold Lambert's shoulders. Jaskier wasn't much shorter than Lambert, but perpetually curling on himself made Lambert think of him as so much smaller.
"Just promise me you'll be here come Saovine," Jaskier murmured into his ear, so softly he barely feels his jaw moving. Lambert holds onto the moment as long as he can, memorizing the smell of Jaskier that's still stubbornly there under all the stress and exhaustion and bile and stale sweat.
"I promise," at that, Jaskier let him go.
"May Melitele clear your path-"
"- and keep the hungering wolves at bay"
.
A/N- Encouragement and kind words will always make me more excited to write stuff <3 and feel free to dash off a message to me! I haven’t really made any friends in the fandom yet :3c
Thanks for reading, friends!
Rough and tumble ragged drafts on tumblr here: Actual Fic Better Not Wake The Baby
This fic is based on OldandKinky’s Honey-verse and you can also find them here: Honey-verse on Ao3 and OldandKinky on Ao3
and if you like my writing, I’ve also got “Varieties of Exile”
#geraskier#honeyverse#jaskier#geralt#geralt of rivia#lambert#eskel#vesemir#fanfic#fan fic#actual fic better not wake the baby#geralt/jaskier#geralt x jaskier#witcher au#the witch writes
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One of the most familiar and felicitous biblical expressions describing terra sancta is "a land flowing with milk and honey." This phrase recurs no less than twenty times in scripture, (1) and from the earliest biblical commentaries until the modern era, it has been universally understood as signifying unbounded opulence. It is a hyper-bole for the Eden-like garden preserve of the "Chosen People." And due, in measure, to the influence of the King James version of the Bible, "milk and honey" (both in concert and individually) has a wide currency in English usage, symbolizing the summum, bonum: ecstasy, wealth, endearment, etc. (2)
There are various reasons for "a land flowing with milk and honey" having been universally understood as an unbridled encomium. The Bible itself refers both to milk (or milk products) and honey as luxury items. These are high-energy foods used by those who camp in the wilderness, articles of trade, contributions to priests and Levites, and worthy gifts. Honey is described as being both pleasurable and healthful and is used to symbolize such diverse pleasures as wisdom, the Lord's commands, and (along with milk) sexuality. (3) It is not surprising that God will deny the sinner milk and honey in the future, nor that the divinely bestowed manna in the wilderness has the taste of honey. (4) In the case of a sinner who is deprived of milk and honey by God, the use is synonymous with pleasure; the denial of milk and honey is a denial of pleasure. — Etan Levine, The Symbolism of Milk and Honey
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I just binged all of the Honey series and oh my god I don’t even have words to express how I feel! Probably about to read all of your ao3 works now. I hope you’re having a good day and I just wanted to ask if Ciri will be making an appearance in the Honeyverse? Maybe Jaskier can start mothering her and something in him snaps and he views her as his and Geralt’s child, even if he knows she’s not? His body is just screaming at him to look after her, keep her safe and covered in his and Geralt’s scents?
Ciri will not show up, sorry. We will meet some other characters before everything is said and done, though.
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What If...? TGM FanFic Edition
This is honestly a crazy idea but I'm so excited to see how it turns out!
Here's how it works:
Send me an ask or DM letting me know if you want to participate
You can use any fic series YOU have written and create an alternate storyline or ending or crazy idea you've had/came up with.
It can be a full fic, bullet points, blurb, moodboard, etc.
use tag #what if...? tgm fanfic edition and tag me so I can link it here for others to see too
please be sure to tag your fics appropriately (warnings, 18+, smut, fluff, angst, etc)
obviously they are your creations so you are welcome to link them anywhere you please
This is open to anyone with no end date so you are free to post whenever no matter how new or old your series is
please write for YOUR OWN series!!
parts of this challenge may be 18+! Minors do not interact!
There is no end date so join in/submit whenever!
Shout out to @mamachasesmayhem for making the coolest banner ever!
See who's participating below!
The Duckie Universe by @sarahsmi13s
Need You Now by @eternalsams
I Hope you Dance by @callsign-magnolia
She Ain't Takin' Your Call (Honeyverse) by @mamachasesmayhem
The Tell Them Universe by @sarahsmi13s
tagging who may be interested: @mamachasesmayhem @sarahsmi13s @horseshoegirl @teacupsandtopgun @roosters-girl @bradleybeachbabe @twsssmlmaa @lavenderbradshaw @roosterbruiser @goldenseresinretriever @sailor-aviator @bradshawsweetheart @bradshawsbaddie @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lovinglyeternal @seresinsweetie @eternalsams @topgun-imagines
#what if...? tgm fanfic edition#top gun maverick#top gun#top gun x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#jake seresin#jake hangman seresin#bob floyd#robert floyd#robert bob floyd#javy machado#javy coyote machado#natasha trace#natasha phoenix trace#mickey garcia#mickey fanboy garcia#reuben fitch#reuben payback fitch#pete mitchell#pete maverick mitchell#tom kazansky#tom iceman kazansky
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The Drone Ranger's Be Kind Rewind ⏪ MayhemManaged Edition!
A rec reblog series dedicated to the fics that we love so much, we've re-read them!
The next Rewind has landed: @mayhemmanaged! A special thank you to Mama Mayhem for participating 🖤
The Top Gun fandom has been going strong for over a year, and while we continue to churn out amazing new content, let's be kind and rewind to look at some of the OG content we love!
And don't forget to reblog when you re-read! Continue to show your comfort fics and favorite creators some love. It helps keep the fresh content coming :)
We want to keep this going throughout the summer, so I'll continue to invite friends—other creators and readers—to share their lists. Stay tuned!
If you're interested in participating in the Be Kind Rewind, message me. The more, the merrier—let's keep this going as long as we can!
If you want to know when a new Rewind drops, join the tag list, and check out previous Rewinds!
fics below the cut (listed in alphabetical order by title)
Beached., Jake Seresin, @thedroneranger
I re-read it on Wattpad multiple times, and then on Tumblr all over again, because I love Jake and Kyle so much 😍
Cruel Summer, Bradley Bradshaw/Jake Seresin, @roosterbruiser
I’ve re-read it a handful of times to go back through and find clues 😂
Fuck: The Universe, Jake Seresin, @roosterbruiser
Because it was spicy and sweet and emotional.
I.R.I.S, Jake Seresin, @ohtobeleah
Because HOLY SMOKES, it’s so hot 😍
Till Death?, Bradley Bradshaw/Jake Seresin, @cherrycola27
'Cause it destroyed me.
To-Do List collection, Jake Seresin, @thedroneranger
I’ve re-read each of these so many times it’s not even funny 😍
Wipeout, Jake Seresin, @wkndwlff
I read it on Wattpad, and then again when I popped over to Tumblr, 'cause it’s that damn good!
Young GF/Wifey x Jake Seresin, @roosterscock
These are SO GOOD—Jake and Baby, in particular. I love all the spicy thots and how sassy Baby gets with the thirsty bitches 😂
Creator's Own
Hang Your Halo, Jake Seresin
I’ve re-read it every time someone goes through and binges it, and I fall in love with Beckham all over again 😍
Into the Honeyverse, Jake Seresin
'Cause those one shots are my all-time faves!
Tag list and friends: @petcr3 @desert-fern @Sagittarius-Lovewitch @mygyn @sweetwhispersofchaos @horseshoegirl @the-annoying-fan @dingochef @moon42fñight @ereardon @roosterforme @galaxy-of-stories @taytaylala12 @malindacath @violyn20 @awildewit @potato-girl99981 @shanimallina87 @blue-aconite @djs8891 @linkpk88 @furiousladyking @daggerspare-standingby @princess76179 @jstarr86 @hecate-steps-on-me @darkheartcherry @soulmates8 @roosters-girl @dempy @roosterisdaddy36 @hangmanscoming @s-u-t @mavrellover91 @chicomonks @averyhotchner @penguin876 @kmc1989 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @dakotakazansky @startrekfangirl2233 @cassiemitchell @seitmai
A kind reminder, this is a 18+ blog. While not all stories in the recommendation list are 18+, please respect boundaries and do not interact unless you are 18 years of age or older.
#tgm be kind rewind#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#jake seresin#rooster bradshaw#bradley bradshaw#top gun maverick#tgm#top gun#mayhemmanaged
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