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jupitercomet · 7 months

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summary - Jake broke your heart when he left you behind. All that remained of him were the memories of when you were in love—and the phone number he never picks up. Now he's back, ready to claim his title. And you think that that's all he wants, that he's completely forgotten about everything you were together, until he tries to fight for you too. But, this time, will you finally be worth more to him than the glory?

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, mentions of blood, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex and suggestive themes, my limited knowledge of boxing, no use of y/n, Jake is 6'5" because I said so

this blog is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 3.2k

okay, here's the start of under the hard deck: rewritten! obviously some parts of it are going to be the same, I don't plan on scrapping all the chapters I've written. it's just that some of the characterizations/pacing/plot points are going to be different. anyway I hope you enjoy (for the second time)! - bugs

one new voicemail masterlist

“Hey, Jake. It’s, um, it’s me again. I know I usually call later, but, I don’t know, today was just so long and I’m so tired and it’s only 6:00. I don’t even know what happened, it just feels like everything went wrong. A customer yelled at me this morning because his iced coffee had too many ice cubes in it— I mean who even cares about something like that? And then he refused to pay for his entire meal, even though I made him another coffee, because he was unhappy with the service and didn’t think he should have to pay for my mistakes, so Freddie got pissed and told me that if I messed up like that again, he’d fire me.

My feet were hurting the entire day too. I still wear those flats you always told me to just dump because they’re too small, and I think they really are too small now because my heels are covered in blisters. Luckily, one of the older waitresses—you remember Marlene, right? She had the big red hair that made you think she looked like Winnie from Hocus Pocus. Well anyway, she had some band-aids in her purse because my feet had started bleeding. I guess it’s probably time I got new shoes, but... But you got me these shoes—that’s why I kept them, I never told you that—and so if I throw them away—

Sorry, I’m not gonna cry. I’m still walking home, people will look at me weird. But it’s just been a really long day and I don’t have anyone to talk to about it and I just— I feel like such a failure, Jake. Nothing I do is good enough and I’m so sick of— God, sorry, I said I wouldn’t cry.

I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this, I guess it’s comforting to imagine that you still care, but that’s not— You don’t have to, it’s not your job anymore so I won’t be mad if you don’t, I promise. My therapist said it’s good though. Talking about my feelings. Granted, I didn’t tell her it was through my ex boyfriend’s voicemail but, I don’t know, it helps I guess.

Anyway, I’ll stop bothering you, but say ‘hi’ to Harley for me and… And I— I hope you had a better day than me, that’s all.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, make some noise for tonight’s champ… JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN!”

The crowd is deafening, cheering at an eardrum bursting volume, and Jake craves it. The stark white lights above him, the men beneath him, still in their work clothes, trading money amongst themselves. Someone’s rubbing out his shoulders, attempting to tell him something over the noise of the crowd, but Jake’s not even trying to listen.

His opponent is, quite literally, on the ropes, leaning his entire weight on them as someone shines a flashlight in both his eyes. Jake smirks, licking the blood that dripped down from his nose onto his lips. The taste of rust fills his mouth and, though people are trying to usher him out of the ring, he waits. He watches as his opponent looks around the ring hazily, trying to piece together all the noises penetrating his ears through all the blunt force he’d taken to the head. Inevitably, the other boxer meets his eye, eyes focusing and unfocusing on his towering frame, and Jake’s face morphs into a bloody grin. His tongue traces his teeth cockily and he winks.

“Alright, showoff,” Javy shoves his shoulder, finally getting the blond to move. “You already won.”

Jake doesn’t say anything as they walk through the cheering crowd, letting his eyes rake over the ring girls who wave at him flirtatiously. One of the girls seems nervous, not meeting his eye with a deep blush on her face, and Jake smirks. He always did have a thing for the quiet ones.

“Keep walking, hotshot. I know what you’re thinking.” Javy’s voice is back near his ear and it’s clear the man is intent on making sure they both make a beeline straight for the locker room.

Ultimately, Jake’s not too hung up about it, he’d find another girl to pique his interest later in the night, but he never wastes an opportunity to tease his best friend. “No gloating or girls? You got a stick up your ass or somethin’, man?”

Javy scoffs, pushing him into the locker room with more force than necessary. “Please, if I had a stick up my ass, I’d never have put up with your narcissistic ass in the first place.”

“Ouch,” Jake grins, catching the water bottle Javy throws at him with, again, more force than necessary.

He takes a swig and Javy looks at him with crossed arms, contemplating for a moment, before finally letting out a sigh. Jake knows that look. The tongue tracing his molars. The slight tilt of his head and squint of his eyes. It’s Javy’s “I’m about to say something and I don’t know how you’ll take it” look. And, given that Javy can read Jake like a book, that look isn’t always common. He swallows another gulp of water, looking at Javy expectantly.

“Mav’s offering you a spot at the Hard Deck.”

Jake’s brows furrow, his lips stilling around the nozzle of his Gatorade water bottle, and he pulls it away from his mouth slowly. “What?”

“He wants you to come back,” Javy continues unsurely. “It’s a lot of money, dude.”

“What’s the catch?”

Javy shrugs. “Nothing that I can see. He’s offering a bigger cut of earnings, higher priority with fights. You’ve made a name here Jake, I’m not that surprised he wants you back.”

That was true enough. Since moving to Texas, Jake had reached a level of notoriety that was unattainable in California—not when he was competing with guys like Rooster and Razor just to get the time of day. It took him all of two months to make it big in Texas.

“What makes him think I’ll come back then?” Jake sits, dropping the gloves he was holding to the floor. “He knows how good I’ve made it here.”

“You and I both know the fighting scene’s bigger in Cali. I guess he thinks you’d make your way back there eventually. And that a guaranteed spot in the big leagues might incentivize you.”

Jake nods offhandedly, spurting more water into his mouth and ignoring the way his knuckles ache at the squeeze.

“You know as well as I do what this means, man.”

And Jake does. If Maverick’s reaching out to him, especially now, it could only mean one thing. He thinks Jake has a shot at winning a belt.

He purses his lips. “Did he say when he wanted an answer?”

Javy shakes his head.

The Hard Deck. It’s a good deal, Jake knows that. It’ll make winning a belt a very attainable goal, Jake knows that. If he were anyone else, it might be hard to just uproot his life and move to a different state so suddenly, but nothing was tying Jake down here. There wasn’t a single, logical reason Jake had to not accept Maverick’s offer.

He had some illogical reasons though.

Like the diner on Keller street he’d have to avoid if he ever goes out for lunch. Or the apartment complex he’d pass every day on his way to the gym. Or Charlotte’s—Jake had yet to find a restaurant on the entire West coast that could make better Chicken Alfredo. But he’d have to avoid Charlotte’s too. Those were reasons—as stupid as they are.

But they are stupid reasons, Jake reminds himself. Jake has never been one to tuck tail and run, especially when it comes to boxing. And why should he start now? Just because there’s a couple places that make him uncomfortable? Maverick was offering something big—something Jake has always wanted. Something Jake gave up everything for just to get.

“You don’t have to decide now—”

“Tell him I’ll do it.”

Javy’s mouth snaps closed and he looks at his friend. “Jake…”

“You said it yourself,” Jake shrugs, getting up to open his locker. “This could be my chance. I’d be a fucking moron not to take it.”

Javy still seems somewhat unconvinced, saying nothing as Jake speeds through his combination lock. It’s a bit of a stalemate between the two and Jake ignores the feelings of uncertainty creeping up his spine as he pulls a hoodie over his head. His obliques burn at the stretch and he winces.

“Alright,” Javy relents finally. “If this is what you wanna do, I’ll back you. But I’m giving it a day or two before I get back to Mav, in case you change your mind.”

Jake reaches for his bag, stuffing his gloves inside, before sliding on his sweatpants. “Sure, man. I’ll start house hunting. You wanna share a one bedroom or two?”

Javy laughs in disbelief, shaking his head, and gathers his own belongings, shouldering on a jacket.

“You’re dangerously impulsive, you know that?”

“I do. I like to think it’s one of my best qualities.” Jake grins, pivoting on his heel as he heads for the exit of the locker room. He can already taste the victory champagne on his tongue and he thinks that he has a few hours before he crashes. Maybe he could find that shy ring girl again.

“Hey.” Javy’s voice stops Jake, his hand freezing on the door, and he turns. Javy’s got that look again. “You gonna tell her you’re coming back?”

It’s silent for several seconds.

“...Who?”

Javy studies him for a moment, almost like he’s looking right through him, before shaking his head. “Never mind, man. Have a good night.”

Jake nods, pushing through the door of the locker room and out of the building, not stopping until he reaches his parked motorcycle. He secures his helmet with a heavy breath. Jake knows damn well who.

Without sparing it another thought—having to forcibly remove the memories from his brain—Jake starts up his motorcycle, revving the engine a few times before he pulls away from the empty looking warehouse that served as his arena for the night. The cool wind feels good against his aching muscles and Jake loses himself in the feeling of weaving in and out of traffic. It doesn’t take him long to find the club that everyone goes to after a fight—the party limos littering the curb are very telling. Jake finds a spot to park his bike quickly, pulling off his helmet as he takes in the line of people that’s almost wrapped around the building.

He’s hardly dressed for a night out, just in a pair of shorts and a hoodie. But Jake has found that people don’t really care what he’s dressed like when they all just watched him beat another man to a pulp. This belief is affirmed when the bouncer gives him one look before shooting him a nod and letting him skip the line into the club.

The bass of the music vibrates underneath Jake’s feet, making the words of the song almost unintelligible as he surveys the packed interior of the club. Scantily clad women sway seductively from poles lining a large stage in the middle of the room. They’re all dressed in various kinds of lingerie that Jake assumes is in line with the theme of the club. What theme Jake has no idea, but whatever it is, it certainly has men lining up, bills scattered across the floor of the stage.

A loud cheer interrupts his thoughts, a group of patrons lighting up upon seeing him. They’re already drunk, even though his fight just ended, but Jake doesn’t mind as he signals the bartender for a shot of his own. He likes it better this way.

He nods in acknowledgement when one of the guys praises him on his fight—”I’m gonna buy a fucking boat with all the money you won me!”—throwing back several shots in rapid succession. He knows Javy will be on his ass for it tomorrow, but he also knows Javy won’t be the least bit surprised when Jake comes in with a hangover. He may be impulsive, but it’s predictably so.

“Hey, handsome.” Sensual giggles draw Jake’s attention and he turns to find two women dressed in skimpy tank tops and frayed jean shorts standing in front of him.

One of them is holding a bottle of tequila and a shot of her own and the other is looking at him through long, mascara coated lashes. She bites her lip as if to hold in a smile, drawing Jake’s attention to the deep red painting them.

“Wanna take a body shot, champ?”

Jake grins.

The room’s too packed for the girl to lay on any sort of table, but she already seemed to have thought of that, plucking the shot from her friend’s hand and situating it between the valley of her breasts. She looks up at Jake with a challenging smile, but Jake can’t even count the amount of times he’s found himself in this exact position, so he’s hardly thrown.

Dropping to his knees, Jake meets her eye with a smirk, grabbing each side of her chest before pulling her down to his waiting lips. The liquor sloshes around in the shot glass, some landing on his chin when it finally falls into his waiting mouth. Before the girl can say something teasing, Jake’s standing up quickly, hand wrapping around the back of her neck as he confidently tilts her head up, holding her gaze for a second before spitting the tequila back through her parted lips.

She swallows it—her friend giggling manically behind her—blinking up at Jake in a dazed surprise before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him swiftly. Jake’s hands fall to her hips, squeezing and kneading the skin as his lips chase hers. The taste of tequila is heavy on both of their tongues, only fueling Jake’s exploration of her mouth, and when he pulls away a string of saliva still connects them.

The woman’s chest is heaving, but Jake only wets his lips hungrily. “You ever ridden on a motorcycle before?”

And just like that, he finds himself pinning her up against his front door, keeping her thighs wrapped around his hips despite the fact that every one of his muscles ache. He fumbles with the key, swinging the door open and closing it with his foot quickly. The twinkling of dog tags make a brief appearance in his ears as he carries the woman into his living room—still exploring her mouth with his own—but Jake loses track of them as he takes her up the stairs.

Their clothes litter the floor, leaving a trail of a hoodie, shorts, and a tight tank top and denim shorts combination that Jake was more than happy to take off all the way to his bedroom. He keeps his eyes closed as his fingers make quick work of her bra, moving down to bite and suck the delicate skin of her neck. His fingers fumble when she lets out a loud noise of pleasure, not expecting the volume when he’s so used to—

Her hands fist in his hair, dragging Jake back to her waiting lips as he lays her down on his bed. “You gonna fuck me, Hangman?” She breathes against his mouth. It’s supposed to be sexy, Jake knows it’s supposed to be sexy. She’s hot, and she wants him, and he took her home. She wants him to fuck her.

So Jake does.

It’s enjoyable enough. He is genuinely attracted to her physically and she was more than happy to pleasure him anyway he asked. She got him off, and she didn’t care that he hid his head in the crook of her neck the whole time, or that he could only seem to call her “angel”.

Jake cranes his neck to check that she’s still asleep. She is, body stretched out on his bed as she bunches up most of his duvet under her arm. Her cheek is squished against the pillow, flakes of mascara dusting her cheeks. Jake watches her for another moment before getting up slowly. He grabs his phone from the nightstand, sliding on a pair of sweatpants quietly before sneaking out of the room without another glance.

Harley’s laying on the couch when he pads into the living room—something the doberman knows he isn’t allowed to do—but Jake just scratches him behind the ears as he sits down next to him, too tired to reprimand him.

“Hey, buddy.” Remote in hand, Jake flicks through channels, propping his feet up on the coffee table. He turns to the dog. “You wanna watch F1?”

Harley lets out a breath through his nose, resting his head on his paws, and Jake takes that as a “yes”. The two sit in silence, watching the cars race around the track as British commentators talk about tire quality and team tensions and other things Jake currently doesn’t have the energy to pay attention to.

Normally, he does. But after an hour too many at the club and a couple rounds in the sheets with a woman whose name he still hasn’t learned, Jake can only rub at his eyes tiredly, focusing on the brightly colored screen before him through slow, tired blinks.

“What do you think about going back to California, Harley?”

The dog perks up slightly at the sound of his name, moving just his eyes to look at Jake, and his tail thumps briefly against the couch cushion.

“Yeah?” Jake chuckles, scratching Harley’s head again. “Me too.”

A tire screech sounds through the speakers of his TV set up and he turns the volume down slightly, holding his breath to hear if there’s any stirring coming from the upstairs bedroom. Maybe he should have gone for Shark Week instead.

Jake knows he should get up, ice a few things, maybe have a bite to eat, go back to that pretty brunette in his bed. But he doesn’t quite feel up to it yet. One of the cars collides with a barrier, the crackling voice of the driver almost unintelligible through the broadcast. He could just sleep on the couch maybe, though his back would pay for it tomorrow and it would only leave questions with the woman he brought home. A car slows at the pit stop and the pit crew move like lightning to switch the tires. He could… Well, he could—

Jake pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck it,” he breathes, already reaching for his phone in his sweatpants pocket.

His fingers fumble with the passcode and he scrolls through his apps quickly. The F1 he’d put on is forgotten, serving as white noise instead. Not even Harley is paying attention to it—the dog opting to snooze lightly instead. Jake knows that he should ice his side, that he should turn the TV off, and go back to the woman in his bed, and sleep. He knows that he should do all those things. Instead he bites his lip as his thumb makes its last press on his phone screen.

“Hey, Jake. It’s, um, it’s me again…”

I do not have a taglist but you can follow my library @jupitercometgold to be notified when I post

#jake seresin imagine #jake seresin imagines #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin angst #jake seresin au #hangman imagine #hangman imagines #hangman x reader #hangman fluff #hangman angst #hangman au #top gun maverick imagines #x reader #one new voicemail #under the hard deck #buggy's got a pen

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yuviur · 5 months

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And then, Henry is holding them really tight, more for his security than theirs, and he walks out of the dungeon (ep 42)

I cannot be the only one who cried when the twins climbed Henry and sat on his shoulders like two loving pauldrons 🥺

#I am NOT ready for the next episode #also he is so strong for carrying two 12 year-olds like that #and now some design notes yayy #the string visible under Henry's shirt is a necklace with the birthstones of the four of them (he tucks it under his shirt to keep it safe)#Lark is on Henry's right shoulder and Sparrow's on his left if it's unclear (you can barely see the ends of their tattoos)#I think the twins have had different haircuts throughout their lives to keep things simple for their parents #after the events of S1 Lark buzzed his hair to further himself from Henry and Sparrow let his grow out (I'm working on their S2 designs rn)#Lark has a black toe from kicking something too hard #Sparrow and him used to have matching bead bracelets but Lark's got ripped during the pyramid incident #Sparrow offered him his but Lark wouldn't take it #also these trees do not look like oaks and especially not the same one but it was so ugly when I tried to do that so shhh #this was actually my first dndads fanart but it was left in my sketchbook for MONTHS before I decided to digitalize it...#so I actually sketched it the moment I heard the ep and before Deck Picks which makes me lose it #anyway!#my art #dndads #dungeons and daddies #dndads s1 #dndaddies #dndads odyssey #henry oak #sparrow oak #lark oak #sparrow oak garcia #lark oak garcia

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laurelwen · 4 months

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#(probably) last text post of 2023 but don't worry there's plenty more on deck for 2024 #i cannot be stopped #never forget to check out my pinned masterpost under the humor section for a full listing of all my stupid memes and textposts #like minds #nigel colbie #alex forbes #tom sturridge #eddie redmayne #nigel colbie x alex forbes #murderous intent #like minds 2006 #murder boyfriends #like minds text post

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strongermonster · 6 months

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the mice keep stealing all the stone wool insulation packed around the dryer vent exhaust pipe, which is not ideal for me or my heating bill, but i have a wimpy weak heart and could not sleep for thinking of the little mices all cold and suffering, so i spent FOURTY FUCKING MINUTES raking all sorts of leaves and grasses up, stole the shredder from the back office and work (and clogged it to shit) to make it nice and fine, + got a pillowcase full of sheep's wool discards from a friend, unscrewed the deck boards, and dumped it all under there.

i hope these little meeses and mouses understand and appreciate what i have done for them

#jj stuff #i did not do this for the mice i did this for ME #bc i lost sleep on a work night thinking about the suffering of the mice people what live under my back deck

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glimblshanks · 6 months

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Made me feel all warm and fuzzy to see the Cerritos crew all band together and break direct orders to go save Mariner after so many of them turned their back on her in season three. It just gave me this sigh of relief, like thank goodness the crew has her back again.

#lower decks #beckett mariner #star trek #star trek lower decks #st lwd #lwd #lwd spoilers #lwd s4 spoilers #lower decks season 4 spoilers #lower decks spoilers #I didn't get the apology for Carol that I wanted #but I think this finale makes up for it #like Carol and the whole crew were willing to risk being court martialed for her #so I think we can call star base 80 water under the bridge now

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steddieasitgoes · 8 months

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AU where Steve is a First Mate/Chief Officer on a vacation sailing yacht and Eddie is the lead guitarist of the successful metal band Corroded Coffin.

The band has just finished their second world tour, and as a thank you for their hard work, the label gifts them a vacation on a world renowned sailing yacht. Eddie's not exactly thrilled with the vacation; he's spent enough time on fishing boats with Wayne to last a lifetime, but he completely changes his tune when he's welcomed aboard by the sexiest man he's ever seen.

Steve is usually good about keeping a distance and staying professional around the guests, but there's just something about Eddie that has him sneaking out of his bunk at night to listen to him play his guitar. Steve's so enamored he even convinces the Bosun, Robin, to pretend to be sick so he can handle all her duties like driving the tender and organizing guest activities.

And if Steve and Eddie happen to find themselves sneaking kisses in tiny corridors and quickly falling in love, well, that's no one's business but theirs.

#steddie #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things fic #yes this was inspired by those pictures of keery and my affinity for below deck sailing yacht #file this under things I'll probably never write #dani writes

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incognita-soul · 7 months

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Our Flag Means Death tonight with the Royal Theater

#so the royals are set flying which means they only get sent aloft when we need them #so most of them time they live furled up and tucked away under the pin rails on deck #meaning when we want a big movie screen all we gotta do is lash it aft of the foremast and pull out the projector et voila #royal theater #lady washington #boat adventures #our flag means death #ofmd

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 7 months

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Since the Neighborhood are adventurers, I'd like to imagine they travel by sea a fair amount of times too! A nice boat trip while occasionally breaking out into a sea shanty, eh? (And for gits and shiggles, to keep up with the whole.. Eddie in water joke, I imagine the poor guy is clumsy enough to go overboard. He may not be unconscious during it, but it wouldn't make it any less funny with the group desperately trying to pull him back aboard-)

OH OH OH allow to ramble at length about this!!! what an idea!!! i fucking love boats & the ocean & being on the water so this ask is checking all my boxes rn

first i imagine that the length of their trips varies wildly, along with the quality due to the glorious variation in weather & bodies of water. and i'm choosing to believe this universe uses tall ships instead of like... fantasy steam ships. because i fucking love tall ships. the sails, the rigging, the elegance... an absolute bitch to maintain and maneuver <3

i imagine that depending on the ship, captain, and size of the crew, the Neighborhood may be required to help out to earn their keep. especially since they're a crew of nine eight, and some ships are woefully understaffed!

I'd imagine that Poppy sometimes takes the cook's job if the crew is currently lacking one (or if the cook wants a fucking break, jeebus it's a demanding job. there's a reason ship cooks in moves/tv are always stern & serious). Barnaby can probably charm his way into doing nothing but provide music/entertainment (much to Sally's aggravation). everyone else are plain deckhands

of course i imagine that that doesn't always happen! plenty of ships are probably content to just take their coin and tranport them. some of them (Eddie, Poppy) may still wheedle their way into helping out though. they strike me as characters that can't Not help

who i imagine loves their little water journeys: Barnaby, Wally, Sally, Wormie

neutral: Frank, Julie

hates it: Poppy, Howdy, Eddie

allow me to provide reasoning!!

Barnaby's impeccable balance probably means that he's stable as a rock even in choppy waters, and i'm reasoning that he doesn't get seasick either. his vestibular system is as solid as his sea legs! he probably finds the whole experience relaxing as anything. He gets to just recline on the bowsprit's base or wherever he isn't in the way & smoke/play his accordion/nap.

Wally just has such a love of life and new things, so why wouldn't he love being on the water? it's different! it's new every time! there are ample things to learn about and do! Home probably keeps his systems stable so that he doesn't have to deal with seasickness. though it probably takes him a little bit to find his sea legs... catch him stumbling around like a lil newborn lamb. sometimes he is facedown on the deck <3 i imagine he'd enjoy going aloft!

Sally would probably love the inherent romanticism and adventure of it all. Who knows what dangers and glory they may face! I bet she writes up a storm during this time - plenty of story material! food for the imagination! what does Anne say... Scope for the imagination, i believe! i bet she also loves having a captive audience. Literally. they're stuck on this ship with her <3

so many lines for Wormie to climb... so many little places to crawl into... new people to trick into giving her treats... down time where the Neighborhood is relaxing in one place. abundant time for affection!

Frank probably doesn't have strong feelings about it. It's a boring ship with no bugs or things to do. Except when he manages to rope crew members into having a lil impromptu fight club. Or when the Neighborhood is put to work - i wonder if he'd find the maintenance soothing or pleasant... or if he'd relish in the hard work of pulling lines

Julie is likely in a similar boat (ha) as Frank. once the initial "wow! whoah!" wears off, it can get boring! and games are limited - there's only so much you can do on a ship (depending on the size of the ship of course), and there might be strict rules to keep passengers out of the crew's way and to lower risk. She probably entertains herself by "bothering" her friends and the crew & cloudgazing.

Poppy... do i need to explain? wooden ship on the ocean, which i understand can be terrifying. who knows what lurks below the waters? if the weather will change on a dime? if one of the flammable things on board catches fire? if the ship hits something? etc. I imagine it's impossible to get her to go above decks. They have to literally push her statue-frozen body onto the ship when they first board

Howdy! honestly i just think it'd be really fucking funny if he gets Violently seasick! like, curled into a ball in his bunk & involuntarily making agonized noises. he sounds like a ghost w/ all the pained moaning. his sea legs suck unless he stances all four at the right distance to anchor himself in place. he's a weak, sickly, fragile little thing, take mercy on him... he doesn't even have the strength left to swindle or sell...

Eddie. now we get to the point of anon's ask - his sea legs would be nonexistent. he's staggering and stumbling all over the place. the ship just barely tilts and he's smacking into a mast or careening across the deck. and of course, hitting the guardrails at precisely the right speed/angle to allow him to tumble overboard. i bet this happens enough that every time the Neighborhood is so much as on a dock, there is at least one person either holding his arm or acting as a barrier between him and the water. as soon as they get on any ship, he's immediately sent below decks. any attempt he makes to come up is instantly blocked.

there's a lot of both comedic and angst potential there. small ship, calm waters? comedic. some neighbors are playing cards, there's on off-screen splash & Frank immediately sighs and gets up all "god damn it, Eddie-". lmao im imagining him floating there and rapid-fire blabbering in fear 'cause there's a shark (it's not a shark. it's a dolphin. everyone on board is so unimpressed.) he's sobbing in fear as they pull him in <3

but angst? imagine there's a storm. imagine it's an all-hands-on-deck situation, every available hand is needed, and Eddie is strong as fuck - he'd be a monster at pulling lines. probably wouldn't even need to sweat them. but a violently rocking ship, slick decks, maybe even waves splashing over the deck... oof i can so easily imagine Eddie slipping & sliding right over the side. maybe while the others watch. maybe they try to grab him, but they're too late. and in such a horrible storm, there's not much they can do - it's dark, the water is incredibly turbulent, the ship can't turn around easily, there's torrential rain. a high stress situation! i'm imagining Frank grabbing a lifebuoy, firmly fastening it to a pin, and then throwing himself overboard after Eddie. something to think about! (i'm imagining that after the storm clears up enough, everyone rushes to the side to check. Eddie & Frank are trailing after the boat, lashed to the buoy and exhausted. maybe a little banged up, but overall fine!)

and then yeah.... oh the shanties Barnaby could lead... the whole ship sings! and then them all in their bunks (or in their hammocks!) in the [insert term for living quarters here, it can vary] when its sleepytime. y'all would not believe the shenanigans that can occur in the fo'c'sle (or the main hold, basically wherever the ship's sleeping quarters are), especially before actual sleep occurs. peak silly time.

there's a lot of potential here, thank you anon!

like now i'm thinking - what about sea monsters? or jobs that Require them to go on the water, as in the job takes place on a ship? ocean battles! ocean searches!

#since eddie is pretty much banished to the holds no matter what #i imagine he & poppy are the main neighbors looking after howdy in his frail sickly state #im imagining eddie sitting on the bunk with howdy in his lap #howdy feels someone petting his hair and blearily cracks his eyes open to be all '...barn...?'#barnaby: *is actually eddie*#howdy: *groans & squeezes his eyes shut* oh god not You...#eddie: *mildly offended* hey now...#im also having a lot of fun imagining frank & eddie after they get reeled in after the storm debacle #they'd just flop onto the deck. exhausted. waterlogged. still holding hands though #they'd probably end up with colds... snifflin and sippin tea while cuddled up in a bunk under the same blanket...#everyone hovering nervously because for quite a while there they actually thought they Lost them both for good....#SO MUCH POTENTIAL #i imagine that howdy actively avoids jobs where he knows they'll have to take a boat #oh his dismay and horror on the times he comes along and they have to unexpectedly go on the water....#even if its just a short trip across a river you know howdy is bent over the stern & feeding the fishes #LMAO WAIT #im imagining wally going over too but in a really funny way. he's standing normally but when the ship tilts too hard #he just slides across the deck and right off the ship. not even blinking or moving. he just goes 'oh! im sliding now'#and everyone turns just in time to watch him vanish over the side w/ perfectly posture #i think this is a situation where barnaby would toss his hat to the side and jump right in after him lmao #but in a funny way! the waters are Calm! the ship is Slow! he climbs right back on with wally (perfectly fine) slung over his shoulder #home lectures wally the best they can w/ the language barrier <3 and barn resolves to teach wally how to swim #because apparently that's not in his skillset! he just falls in the water and Sinks! well. he floats for a minute until he inevitably sinks #& he does not react to it at all. he's exact opposite of eddie on the 'how they handle being in water' scale #eddie: lowkey panics. swims for safety #wally: lets it happen <3

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hajihiko · 1 year

Note

Re: Kokichi: I was like "oh it's another tiny little dude with the same voice as my all-time favorite DR character! I'm on board!" ... "Hmm. Probably getting off board, actually."

I love clownery and I love lying and I enjoy that voice acting so I'm mad the character ended up being. As he is

#Kokichi Ouma negative #That should deck it right #Not an art #Drlive3 #Ok that's all the neg for now . If I get mad I'll put stj under a read more

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jupitercomet · 7 months

Text

The Difference a Minute Can Make

warnings - DARK THEMES, boxer au, violence, language, Jake is 6′5″ because I said so, my nonexistent knowledge of boxing, will I ever stop making Neil the villain of Jake’s story?, crass insults between men, physical assault (not descriptive), mild gore, mentions of blood, mentions of injury, panic attack, Jake having his jtldm!Bradley moment, no use of y/n

this series is 18+, minors please do not interact

word count - 4.8k

one new voicemail masterlist

It’s almost as if your run in with Jake at the butterfly pavilion altered the trajectory of time and space because, after it, you started seeing Jake almost everywhere. The grocery store, the gas station, even somewhat obscure department stores in the mall. You’d almost think he was following you if he didn’t look equally as surprised every time. And, in a weird way, you guess it makes sense, the two of you always had unusually similar lifestyle habits.

It was always the same, your gazes would meet, Jake’s eyes would widen almost comically, and then he would either give you a small wave or, worse, attempt painstaking small talk. And then the whole exchange would end in forced smiles and awkward goodbyes. Maybe Jake was good at that.

Weirdly, Jake’s sudden appearance in your life caused your voicemails to kick back up to their daily occurrence. After cutting down to sparing voicemails every couple days, you’d fallen back into leaving him voicemails on every walk home from work by the third time you ran into him. It felt a little strange to be talking to him about him, but this influx of Jake in your life was throwing you off and you didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Oh my gosh, Bradley, my favorite waitress is here!”

The door of Knockouts opens and two regulars make their way inside before much more of the wind can. It’s slightly chilly for fall in San Diego—not terrible weather, but windy. You’d never liked the wind much, it seemed to always make things worse than they already were.

The couple move to their usual booth—the back left, near the widow—and you grab two menus. You were honestly surprised when they came back about a week and a half ago and the woman could still recognize you. Since then, they stopped by semi regularly—sometimes to dine in, sometimes to take out. They were always nice to you and the man tipped well. You like them.

“Toots, stop shoving your phone in my face, I can’t even see what you’re tryin’ to show me,” The man (you call him Grumpy because he is) grunts.

The woman (Shoes, because, the first time she came in, she helped you find a really good deal on shoes) looks like she’s about to speak before she sees you and perks up. “Hi!”

“Hi,” you smile politely, passing them the menus. “Can I get you guys your usual drinks?”

Shoes lets out a gasp, and you worry you’ve said something wrong, but Grumpy answers for her. “Yeah.”

You nod, heading back to the kitchen to get one water and one oreo milkshake.

“Bradley, she knows our drink orders! I told you she liked us!”

The door of the kitchen swings closed and you maneuver your way through the hustle and bustle of people and kitchenware as you make your way to the milkshake blender in the back. It looks like someone is making a peanut butter milkshake. You have the time, so you pour it into a glass before moving to clean out the machine. Malory comes up behind you and smiles gratefully.

“Thank you,” she balances the milkshake on her tray. “I swear, that scar guy is so weird.”

“He’s back?” You look up from the oreo mix.

Grumpy and Shoes weren’t the only sudden regulars spending their nights at Knockouts. An older man with a large, alarming scar on his cheek, who was always dressed in leather jackets and tight jeans, started stopping by too. He was usually a part of the evening rush but sometimes he’d show up in the afternoon. He was strange though, and none of the girls liked him, you included.

“Yeah, I’m this close to talking to Freddie about him, but it’s not like he’d do anything,” Malory shrugs. “A customer’s a customer.”

You nod sympathetically.

Malory leaves the kitchen after that and you try to shake the strange man out of your head as you finish getting a glass of water and the oreo milkshake ready. Jake preferred smoothies, he always said that milkshakes were “So overrated that any schmuck could see it” and that they were just “Big Milk’s way of covertly infiltrating the life of the average consumer, angel”. You smile slightly at the thought.

You know Jake didn’t actually care that strongly about milkshakes. He only said it so much because it made you laugh. And maybe that’s why it was so hard to let go of him. How do you move on from a man who pretended to hate milkshakes for you?

Clearing your throat, you weave your way back out the kitchen doors and back to the farthest booth to the left, closest to the window.

“Sorry about that,” you apologize as you set down their drinks, but Shoes waves it off. “Are you ready to order? Or would you like some more time?”

“We’re ready,” Shoes smiles brightly. “Also, can I just say that I love your hair!”

“Oh, um, thank you,” you look down, flustered.

“Yeah, it’s so—”

“We’ll take three cheeseburgers.” Grumpy cuts in bluntly, not looking up from his menu.

You blink in mild surprise, hesitantly shooting a glance to Shoes to see if she’s offended by her partner’s—boyfriend’s? You honestly can’t tell—sudden interruption. Weirdly, she’s only smiling at him softly. She turns to you and her smile widens, though it somehow seems slightly less genuine. “Please,” she adds.

You scrawl the order down quickly, nodding. “I’ll have those right out for you.”

You turn, walking away from the table and, again, you can catch the beginning of their conversation.

“You know, I love your hair too, Bradley. You don’t have to be jealous.” You can hear the playful teasing in her voice.

“...I’m not even going to respond to that.”

Hiding your small smile of amusement, you head back to the kitchen, but something catches your arm before you can give your ticket to the chef. You recognize the feeling of Freddie’s pudgy fingers against your bicep. Freddie is who you imagine Augustus Gloop would be if he never got sucked up the chocolate tube. You’d never say that to anyone—you knew it was mean—but that’s what you thought when you first met him. He was round and pink and always sweaty, a girthy man fit tightly into yellow-stained khakis. Oddly, he’d never been that sleazy, you and the other waitresses had all voiced to each other how surprising that was. Though you suppose that, in order to be sexually attracted to you, he’d have to view you as a human being first. He was bossy and didn’t have an understanding bone in his body, he was the kind of guy you just agreed with if you knew what was best for you. He was also the most paranoid man you’d ever met.

Freddie’s fingers feel clammy against your skin, stubby nails digging into you. “Which table is yours?”

“Table six,” you point.

“Mm,” Freddie nods, keeping his eyes on Grumpy and Shoes as he takes a step closer to you. His breath is hot against your face. “You know ‘em?”

“I mean, yeah, they’re—”

“Good.” He drops your arm suddenly and starts muttering. You watch him warily. “That’s good.”

“Alright,” Javy drops his gloves with a sigh, shaking his head. “I’m not sparring with you if you’re gonna be in your own head the whole time.”

Jake furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been leaving my face completely uncovered for the past two minutes and you haven’t gone for a head shot once.”

Jake swallows. Maybe he had been in his own head. But it’s not his fault that he keeps running into you everywhere and it’s distracting him. What’s worse is that, even when he’s not running into you, even when you’re not even there, he’s still somehow seeing you. You’ve somehow made home in his brain and now, everywhere he goes, he’s reminded of you.

Since he moved back to San Diego, you’ve basically been putting him through the ringer. First, you suddenly stopped sending him voicemails, there’s nothing waiting for Jake everyday after 6:00, and it made him go crazy. He basically stopped sleeping, staying up all night wondering if this was really it and you’ve really moved on from him. Then he sees you, he sees how much he hurt you, but he also sees how much you’ve grown from it. Then he’s breaking down in front of drunk women because all he can think about is you. He can’t stop wishing that he didn’t ruin things with you the way he did. He can’t stop wishing that you give him anything more than a forced smile whenever the two of you run into each other in public.

Jake almost feels like this borders on obsession, but he knows that it’s not. He wants it to be obsession because otherwise it’s something else and that’s much scarier. But the thought of not having you at all is even worse.

“Sounds like Cowboy Ken doll isn’t shaping up to be so good in the big leagues.” A quiet chuckle rips Jake from his thoughts and he turns his head to see two of Maverick’s boxers laughing under their breath.

“Sorry,” Jake speaks up, ignoring Javy’s warning look. “I know you aren’t laughing like you’re tough shit when you’re too much of a pussy to say it to my face. Or did you need to practice a little before you said it like a big boy?”

The man, who Jake vaguely recalls as Omaha, snickers in disbelief. “Damn. You kiss your momma with that mouth, Hangman?”

Javy freezes. Jake’s jaw clenches. And then his expression transforms into a smirk, his tongue tracing his front teeth slowly.

“Nah. But yours doesn’t seem to mind.”

“The fuck did you just say to me?!” Omaha’s friend grabs him before he can lunge at Jake and Javy mirrors the action.

Jake just laughs though. “That’s all it took? You wanna talk shit about me and you can’t even handle someone sayin’ they fucked your mom? Javy, are you seeing this shit? I didn’t even have to try.”

“Would you cut it out?” Javy glares at him. “You’ve made your point, now shut the fuck up.”

The air is tense, neither man content with backing down, and everyone else in the gym can sense it. It was really only a matter of time before Maverick came strolling out of his office. He checks the time on his expensive watch boredly, as if seeing two men on the brink of a fight isn’t anything new for him. Given his occupation, Jake knows it isn’t.

“There a problem, boys?” He looks up at the four men, two on the elevated boxing ring and two on the ground below.

“Nothing more than shit-talking, Maverick,” the man holding back Omaha takes the initiative to explain.

Maverick snorts. “Well, then figure it out, yeah? You’re boxers for fucks sake.”

The four men look between each other and—slowly—Jake and Omaha are released. Javy sighs heavily when Omaha moves to put his own wraps and gloves on and gives Jake a knowing look.

“Stay out of your own head, dumbass.” He warns.

Jake smirks. “Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

And when Omaha’s finally ready and they go to touch gloves before the first round, Jake smirks again.

“When you go home tonight, crying like a little bitch, tell your mom I said that I’m sorry about what I did to your face.”

You check again that you have everything contained in your purse before sliding on your jacket.

“Mal?” You call out and Malory pops out from behind the counter. “I think I’m gonna head out. Are you alright here by yourself?”

“I’m fine, Betty should be showing up for her shift any second,” Malory waves you off. You both know you have a bit of a walk and you’d be walking in the dark if you stay any longer.

You nod. “Only if you’re sure,” you check again and she just nods her head. “I’ll see you, then.”

You can hear her shout goodbye as you open Knockouts front door and step outside. The wind’s picked up, blowing at the strings of your zip-up and you wrap your arms around yourself a little tighter. You hate the wind.

Though your fingers are cold—and so are your ears—you can’t help but reach for your phone. Taking a deep breath, you press on the familiar contact and wait to go to its inevitable voicemail

“Hey, Jake. I’ve, um, I’ve been thinking about this all day, so sorry if it seems like it’s coming out of nowhere. But I just have to say it.

I don’t know if it’s just because I know you’re in San Diego now but I just feel… I don’t know, I guess I thought I could do all this without you. I mean I had to. You left. But— But maybe I don’t want to.

I don’t want to do this without you, Jake, and I don’t know what to do because I don’t think you want me— God, I’m sorry, I need to stop crying on my walks home. This is getting ridiculous. I’m sorry. But I made so much progress, Jake, I really did. I promise. And I—

Oh, I’m sorry, I don’t know where that is—

No, I— I really don’t know where that is. But maybe someone else can help you two—”

Harley barks suddenly and Jake looks down at him. “What? You want to go outside?”

“I’m actually on the phone right now—”

Harley’s barks get louder and he circles Jake’s legs, whining. “What? Would you stop? I can’t hear.”

“Please don’t—”

“Harley!” Jake furrows his brows at the doberman when another loud bark overtakes your quiet voice. “What is with you?”

The dog isn’t even looking at him and Jake follows his gaze to the iPhone 6 in his hand.

“Wait, what—”

The voicemail ends with what sounds like the beginning of your scream and Harley won’t stop barking. Jake can feel his own panic rising as his dog continues barking, and whining, and pawing at his furniture, never once taking his eyes off Jake’s phone.

“Look, I’ll go check on her, okay? Is that what you want?” He leads Harley to the backyard, not wanting the dog to destroy his house while he’s gone. “I know where she is, she said she was walking home. I’ll check on her.”

Though Jake was trying to reassure his dog—as if Harley could understand him—there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach. He’s trying to tell himself that your scream was just you slipping and falling, that you’re probably halfway home by now.

Jake grabs his motorcycle keys.

He doesn’t know the exact route you took to get home, but there were only so many ways to get to your apartment from Knockouts quickly. He picks the one with the least amount of busy streets—you’d always been smart enough to figure that stuff out—and finds himself scanning every sidewalk and crosswalk for you. He’s getting closer and closer to Knockouts with every intersection and still hasn’t seen a person who so much as looks like you. Jake can’t explain it, but he feels almost suffocated by dread.

He’s about a block away from Knockouts when he finally spots you. At first he doesn’t even realize it's you, until it hits him so suddenly he almost crashes his bike.

“Angel? Shit!”

Jake parks haphazardly—he might not have even turned his bike off—and he scrambles to the alley hidden by the large Denny’s.

In his life, Jake has seen many people look bloodied and battered. Hell, this morning, he found pleasure in the blood and bruises he inflicted on Omaha. He’s seen people spit out teeth and choke on bloodied spit and, never once, has it fazed him.

But when Jake finally gets a look at you, his heart plummets to his stomach. There’s blood dripping from your right temple and your face is covered in scratches. Your clothes are ripped and wrinkled and dirty. Jake already knows you have even more injuries that he just can’t see yet. Without thinking, he takes a step forward and you flinch.

“Hey, hey,” Jake crouches down, whispering softly as he gives you some space. “It’s okay. It’s just me, sweetheart. You’re okay, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

You’re looking at him, but you don’t seem to see him, and Jake tries to catch your eye with a comforting smile. “It’s just me, angel. It’s okay.”

It takes several minutes, but after a few blinks, there’s mild clarity in your eyes. You swallow thickly. “J-Jake?”

“Yeah, angel, just me. Can I take you home, sweetheart?”

Under any other circumstance, being in Jake’s house, on his couch, in his arms would be awkward. Painful even. But now, as he holds your shaky body with equally shaky hands, you wonder if you even have room for those emotions.

You feel numb. Empty and weightless. You don’t hate the feeling, in fact it’s cutting you off from the pain of your physical injuries. It’s like your body knows it’ll be too much if it lets you feel anything. Vaguely, you wonder if you’re going into shock. But, fighting through all of that, is one gnawing question that you can’t seem to shake.

“How did— How did you know I needed you?” You turn your nose to Jake’s pulse point. When you breathe in, you’re soothed by the smell of his cologne. He hasn’t changed it since you were dating, a rich mix of cashmere and mahogany, and it’s still a familiar scent. You want to drown in it.

“I, um,” you can feel him swallow. “I was listening to your voicemail.”

His words—their meaning—hit you and you pull away from him slowly, betrayal evident in your features. “You’ve… You’ve been listening to my voicemails? And you never said anything?”

Jake can only look at you guiltily.

“No…” You shake your head slowly, getting off of him and moving to the other side of the couch. “You let me think— This whole time—”

“I know, okay? I know. I’m awful and horrible and you have every right to be mad at me, I know,” Jake pleads with you, holding his arms out, his voice as soft as his movements like you’re some sort of frightened, feral animal he’s trying to rescue. “But I’m begging you, angel, be mad at me later. I’m being so selfish, I know that, but I can’t— I— Not right now. I gotta hold you right now. Please.”

His own eyes are misty, his voice breaking as he opens himself up to you. Though you’re mad at him, though you’re hurt beyond belief, you need him just as much. It feels like everything is catching up to you, the confusion and pain and heart-stopping terror. And after all of it, after everything, you just need Jake.

When you throw yourself to his chest, Jake relaxes with relief. He’s holding you on just the border of too tightly, one hand gripping your waist and the other holding the back of your head. He holds you like if he lets go, even for a second, you’ll be right back in that dark alley. Like the only way he’ll know you’re truly safe—truly alive—is if he can feel you between his fingers. You’re not much better though, the dam finally breaking as you sob violently into his chest.

“Thank you, angel,” he breathes and his voice sounds thick. You realize that he’s crying too when you feel drops of his tears in your hair. “God, I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you. Seein’ you like that, I thought— Angel, I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

If Jake’s grip on you is almost too tight, yours is well past it, your body shaking and trembling as it finally processes what just happened.

“I don’t wanna be alone. Don’t leave me alone.” Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, desperate and pleading.

“Never, angel,” he promises, rocking you both soothingly. “Never, never.”

“I can’t— I— I can’t—” He sounds like he’s underwater and you can’t stop choking out begs through your sharp intakes of breath. “Please don’t leave me. I don’t want you to leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you, angel,”Jake assures you, rubbing the back of your head softly.

“Please—” You can’t seem to fight past the images of large men, rough hands, dark allies that clog your throat and you feel trapped. Only able to breathe in, breathe in, breathe in.

“Hey, let’s breathe yeah? You and me? Can you follow my breaths?” Jake mimics sucking on a straw, taking deep breaths as you look at him with wide, panicked eyes. Jake only smiles gently, taking another over exaggerated breath. “It’s okay. Just try to breathe with me, angel. You’re safe.”

You do your best to mirror him, pushing through the harsh collapsing and inflating of your chest as you try to even out your breaths. It takes a few minutes—and a fair amount of coaxing from Jake—but finally the adrenaline lessons its weight on your chest and exhaustion takes its place.

Jake seems to realize your panic attack has passed, softly brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “There she is. There’s my pretty girl.”

You swallow, too tired to do anything but look at him.

“I have to clean you up, is that alright, sweetheart?”

You’re not sure how quickly it happens—you’re so exhausted—but you find yourself in Jake’s bathroom, standing in your undergarments as Jake tests the temperature of the shower. He’s stripped down to his boxers as well, your clothes a crumpled pile on the floor. You can’t look at them. You want to throw them out and never look at them again.

Under the brighter lights of his bathroom, Jake must be able to see you more clearly and he straightens so as not to view you at an angle. You watch as his jaw sets as he takes in your injuries, the blood and dirt clinging to your skin and hair. You feel naked under his gaze—you basically are—and you want to shrink into yourself and just disappear.

Jake purses his lips. “Do you wanna check if it’s too hot?”

You shake your head.

“Would you be willing to get in for me then?”

You take a step forward and Jake places a supporting hand on your back. The water feels nice against your skin—comforting. You think you want to cry again.

“Here,” Jake gently places one of your hands on his hip. “If I start hurting you, just squeeze, okay? Can you do that?”

You nod.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead.

Neither of you say anything as Jake washes you of the grime covering your skin. He’s gentle, almost feather light, as he cleans you with unscented soap and a smooth washcloth. It occurs to you that Jake’s probably gone through this routine a thousand times. You wonder if it’s any different for him now that it’s you.

“I’m all done, angel.” His voice is a whisper that can barely be heard over the sound of the running water. “Do you wanna stay in here for a bit or get out now?”

It takes a moment for you to speak. “Get out please.”

The water turns off and Jake wraps you up in a fluffy towel before carrying you to his bedroom. You should be more helpful, you know you should. At the very least, you should be able to change yourself out of your sopping wet bra and underwear. But you’re so tired. You only have the energy to stand there, staring at the floor as Jake quickly puts on a pair of sweatpants.

He seems to understand your exhaustion, peeling the towel off you without a word once he’s come back with an old t-shirt and pair of boxers. Though it’s something you’re all too aware he’s seen before, Jake keeps his eyes trained on your face as he takes off your wet clothes and replaces them with his soft, dry ones.

“I know you’re tired, angel. Let’s get you to bed, yeah?” Jake pushes back the duvet for you. “I’ll… I’ll be on the couch if you need anything.”

When his words register, your eyes widen in panic and you grab his wrist frantically. “No! You said you wouldn’t leave me! You promised! You—”

“Hey, hey, okay,” Jake shushes you lightly. “I’m not going anywhere, I just didn’t think—” He stops himself, seemingly shaking off the thought. “I won’t go anywhere.”

It’s only when you’re positive he’s not leaving you that you allow Jake to coax you into his bed. The bedding is warm, and soft, and smells like him—or maybe that’s just his clothes you’re wearing. Still, you can’t seem to force yourself to sleep. You feel almost sick, fatigued maybe, but you’re too afraid to close your eyes.

Jake tenses in surprise when you suddenly cling to him again, but it only takes him a second to relax.

“I’m so proud of you, angel.” He traces your hairline with kisses, being extra tender with the injured skin above your temple.

“Tried— Tried to do what you taught me but—” You shake your head, tears spilling over onto your cheeks once again. “I thought they were mugging me, so I just tried to give my purse to them— But they didn’t want it!”

Jake furrows his brow, keeping his voice soft as he strokes your back. “What did they want, angel?”

“They kept telling me to tell Rooster to ‘leave it alone if he knows what’s good for him’. And I kept telling them that I don’t know a Rooster, but they wouldn’t listen!” You look at him desperately, your fingers clinging to his bicep. “They wouldn’t listen, Jake! I don’t— I don’t know—”

“Hey, you didn’t do anything wrong, okay? You didn’t do anything wrong. You were real smart, telling them you were on the phone. You did so, so good.” You feel the words spoken quietly into the top of your head and Jake’s grip on you tightens. “Just, maybe I take you to and from work for a bit, yeah?”

Without even hesitating, you nod against his bare chest.

“Yeah, it’ll be okay. We’re okay.” And then he says it again, a bit more like he means it. “We’re okay. Try to get some sleep, angel.”

It’s probably the longest you’ve ever been comfortable in Jake’s grip. Even when you were together, you couldn’t help but second guess yourself if you touched him for too long. Embarrassingly, you feared you weren’t doing it right. But now, the thought of not being in his arms fills you with such a debilitating panic that it outweighs any of your insecurities.

Because you need to be consumed by cashmere and mahogany, olive green, and soft sheets so there’s no room for you to be consumed by anything else. You need to focus on the feeling of Jake’s fingers dancing across your skin so that your eyes can finally flutter closed. You’re so tired.

Jake waits for your breath to even out. And then he waits a couple minutes longer. And then he waits for a little under an hour because he needs to. Finally his brain seems to register that you’re okay, that you’re safe. The fact that there was even a second that you weren’t makes him sick.

There’s a pawing at the patio door and a soft, muffled whine and Jake cranes his neck to see Harley standing at the sliding glass. With everything that had happened, Jake had yet to let him back in.

Positive that you’re asleep, Jake gently separates himself from you, padding over to the door quietly. Harley seems to understand the situation, because he steps inside the bedroom just as quietly and only looks at your sleeping body and then back at Jake.

“She’s alright, buddy,” Jake assures the dog with a soft scratch of his head. “'Cause of you she’s alright. Now I gotta do something, so you keep your mom safe, okay?”

Jake waits for Harley to settle at the foot of the bed before stepping out and sliding the glass door closed. He unlocks his phone and clicks on a contact he hasn’t had to for almost two years.

“Hello?”

“Rooster,” Jake grits out. “What the fuck did you do?”

join my Jake Seresin taglist here or follow my library @jupitercometgold

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paedenchucks · 2 years

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Every time they say “This is a story of four teens searching for their lost dad’s in a world forever changed after that one time their grandparents unleashed an eldritch god” at the top of podcast my partner and I say “Ummm actually it was Lark who released the Doodler” in unison for comedic effect

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nofacednerd · 8 months

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Another sketchbook doodle of these fuckin guys

Someone on here pointed out that they would be SO sad when they realized they missed the SNW musical pandemic by like a week so I took it as an opportunity to draw sad people

Bonus boimy bc his face is covered up:

#need people to understand this isn’t supposed to actually be angsty I just thought this would be funny #but you can interpret it as angst I guess lmao #my art #doodles #star trek lower decks #also the reason it’s so messy is because I sketched something else originally under it and hated the sketch #so I needed something to cover it up

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pupstim · 1 year

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Prompt: As they grow more liminal, Tucker develops tech based powers. Sam, traumatized by Undergrowth, is afraid her powers will be plant based.

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"… and when I turned around there she was! Jessica all reformed and looking absolutely stunning. Do you know what she did right after?" The sounds of the Casper High were muted around the duo, Sam unenthusiastically chewing on her alfalfa toast. Tucker's words washed over her as she listened with a half ear.

"Earth to Sam? Are you even listening to me?"

Okay, maybe less than half an ear. She gives Tucker an apologetic smile, but from his face it might come off as more of a grimace.

"Did she confess her undying love to you?" Snarking usually could cover up a blunder like this, and it seemed to work as Tucker gave her a disapproving glare.

"No, she said *Hello World*, but don't think that will distract me from what's going on with you." Sam couldn't help the grimace as Tucker leaned in. "Are you still avoiding your green house?" He asked, tone softening but Sam still flinched. She wished Danny was here instead of chasing down the Ghost of the day. He would help distract Tucker.

She debated briefly on lying to him, on deflecting like they've done so many times before. Instead what she found herself saying was, "Later.. After school okay?" He didn't look happy but eventually Tucker nodded.

"After school," he says like a threat, pointing his chili dog to her, meat slipping from it much to her disgust. Falling into the same familiar patterns of banter and this time Sam committed to listening. Tucker's developing powers were exciting and she could see the joy it sparked in him. She only wished she could feel the same.

Sam tried not to feel bad as she dodged around the other students of Casper High. The last bell had just rang, signaling the end of a school day and Sam's last class wasn't with Tucker. Danny appeared to be dealing with whatever ghostly mischief for the day. It wasn't either that she didn't want to talk to either of them, more that she was worried. Worried they would mock her or scoff at her and brush it off, but perhaps the biggest worry of all was that they might believe her.

It'd been months since her and Tucker had began to develop powers, from what Danny could pry out of his mentors was due to the continuous exposure to the ghost zone, both by the portal and their trips into the zone with the GAV.

It was exciting at first, both her and Tucker swept up in the fact they were essentially getting leveled up. Their strength growing and eyes glowing, occasionally Sam almost felt like she could fly. She should have known other powers were going to sprout as well.

She was thrown from her thoughts by a sudden arm thrown over her shoulder, feeling a chill in the air as Danny hugged her. Tucker was such a tattletale. As if summoned by her thoughts Tucker appeared on her other side, pinning her in between them. "You ass, you called Danny in for this?" She growled to the techie.

"Hey you were the one running, I'm just making sure you keep up your part of the bargain." He defended as the three made their way down the street.

The trio walked in silence for a long while, bypassing their usual turn off and instead heading to a scrap of land not far out from city limits. It was uneven ground, dipping low with trees struggling to compete with recent housing developments and resources. A small beaten path led them deeper into a proper forest, trees gaining height the further they got from town. At this point Sam knew exactly where they were going.

Further into the forest, when the last sounds of the city had finally dropped to an almost whispering hum, they arrived at the Ditch. It had probably been a riverbed before Amity Park had been made, but now it was just a gentle dip in the ground, adventurous saplings taking root in the bottom. The three of them hung out at the Ditch a lot before Danny's accident, either helping clear the area or picking up any garbage that found it's way here. Now it looked quite overgrown, bits of litter strewn through the Ditch. Sam felt indignant on nature's behalf, turning to Tucker to find him already taking out a trash bag and handing it to her.

"You just have trash bags in your pocket?" She asked him slightly amused as she watched Danny take one as well.

"Not pockets, in my pack, never know when they'll come in handy." Tucker grins, sliding down the small slope to get to the bottom of the Ditch. Following after him Sam felt herself get lost in the familiar motions of just taking care of nature.

"Sooo… Wanna tell us a bit of what's going on?" Danny asks, breaking the fragile peace Sam felt. She bites back a scathing retort instead shrugging as she shoves more soda cans into her own bag, how can someone chug this much soda was anyone's guess.

"Nothing much to talk about," She mumbles, only for Tucker to snort, turning from his corner.

"She's avoiding her green house," he shamelessly tattles on her.

"Tucker!" Sam hisses, swatting at him as he chuckles and dodges out of the way. "I'm not avoiding it… I'm just… focusing on other things right now."

"You're not going to become Undergrowth." Sam whips her head to Danny who had his back on her, leaning down to continue to pick up the litter in the Ditch. She could see the tips of his ears, which were a bright red as he continues to face away from her.

Sam scowled, turning back to her own trash. "I know that," She snaps, shoving everything she could reach into her own bag. But her hands shook as she did, remembering how smothered under the power Undergrowth had given her felt, how intoxicating to be in control of plants, twining her deeper into the flora. She had felt something… similar budding the last few weeks when she made her rounds in her green house. Sam wasn't sure she wanted to know what it would bud into, feeling like she already went down this path before.

She could still hear Danny shuffle behind her and out of the corner of her eye she could see Tucker fumbling with his own garbage bag, all amusement sucked from his face.

"I know you know it, but do you believe it?" Sam swore she almost snapped her neck looking back to Danny, but he still hadn't turned towards her. "Jazz would say the same thing to me about Dan, and logically I knew she was right… but I couldn't bring myself to believe her." The woods were completely silent as Danny spoke, "I worried that if I relaxed, if I didn't keep myself in check, then my worst fears would come true and Dan would be back."

"Danny…" Sam started before Tucker jumped in.

"I still avoid the Egyptian section of the museum," he blurts out, flushing darkly as Danny and Sam look his way. "I still can't believe that… that the Pharaoh looked just like me, that I'm probably some sort of descendent or maybe even a fucked up reincarnation of some evil king thousands of years ago. Sometimes it feels like that's all I'll ever be or if I slip up then I'll become King Tuck all over again."

Sam knew she should say something reassuring, but what comes out of her mouth instead is, "We're all a little fucked up and evil aren't we?" As soon as the words are out Sam stiffens, feeling heat quickly flush over her face and down her neck, knowing she was probably as red as a cherry. Yet her mouth keeps on running, "I think I have a lot of catching up to do as I was just coerced to the evil side instead of seeing it was my past or future."

Thank fuck it worked as Danny cracks a smile and Tucker shakes his head with a soft huffing laugh. They had did some good work on cleaning the Ditch, the three of them unceremoniously flopping down on a nearby log to rest, their trash bags carefully set next to them. It was an easy silence, Sam feeling tension bleed from her shoulders as she sits between her two boys, letting their presence ground her.

It was quiet for a bit more, the soothing sounds of nature filling their silence before Danny's impatience got the better of him and he leaned gently against Sam, nudging her. "So with us here to keep you in check maybe you can show us your powers?" He asked looking to her with hopeful eyes, wanting to know what Sam kept wrapped up so tightly.

Glaring half heartedly before rolling her eyes, Sam just nodded, ignoring the tight coil of dread in her heart. She had her boys here, they wouldn't let her go to far.

"Awesome, now come on show us what you've got." Sam could only smile at Danny's enthusiasm, but his confidence was infectious and she found herself closing her eyes. Reaching for the tight bundle she had shoved down as soon as it had tried to sprout. Fear still pulsed within her, dozens of what if's and horror scenarios running through her mind but she felt… quite okay. With Tucker's warm hand in hers and Danny's leaning on her side, Sam felt even if she did somehow turned into a jerk like Undergrowth, her two boys would beat some sense back into her.

With that reassuring thought Sam let her power bloom. She was instantly overcome with it. The forest around her seemed to come alive with music, or rather like she had turned a dial on the radio, finding herself swept up in the song of Nature. It was beautiful and Sam found herself swaying with the music of the forest, a soft humming slipping from her as she felt immersed in her gift. She could feel her boys gasp beside her, Tucker's hand tightening on hers as Danny shoved himself closer but she was too far gone to care.

Her and the forest were in complete harmony, the forest felt delighted by her presence, brushings of *friend/protector/new friend* like leaves against her consciousness. It was nothing like the power of Undergrowth, she felt the plants but there was so much more to it, as if the entire forest fauna and flora both were combined and sentient. She was about to explore this even deeper when she was drawn from her musings by a shaking on her shoulder. Feeling slightly irritated with the interruption, Sam sent a scowl to Tucker's way, "What--," before cutting herself off, seeing or rather feeling what has both Tucker and Danny so stiff next to her.

Animals had completely surrounded the three of them, looking as if the whole fauna of the forest had come out to sit around Sam. She could even see a few black bears hanging back, sitting placidly by some white tailed deer. Coyotes by rabbits and mice and even a glimpse of a cougar in the trees. Birds of all shapes and sizes were in the branches as well, from eagles to hawks and owls. Smaller hummingbirds Sam could feel begin to land on her arms and head as mice begin to climb onto her lap. They were all here for her, she could feel it now, the forest reaching out to greet her as she opened her heart up to it. She had cared for this forest, for all of nature and she could feel it's solid presence and acceptance, like a steady rough tree bark against her skin.

Her boys relaxed beside her, seeming to sense this was Sam's power, as more animals clustered closer. Tucker gave an sudden exaggerated gasp. "You're a fucking Disney Princess!" He shouts, causing some of the more timid animals to scamper away from him. Danny let out a choking laugh as Sam gave Tucker her best withering glare, but he only smiled wider.

Sam growled, "I am not--," then stops feeling a few more birds land on her head, mice curled up in her pockets and even a frog that landed on Tucker's head making him fall back and scream. She really was a Disney Princess now, she thought with horror. The forest tittered in her ears, amusement curling around her and Sam found she didn't mind being a Disney Princess. Those ladies were still kickass, she could be the first goth princess, plus if she was a Disney Princess then she could do this.

Turning an evil grin onto Tucker who froze on the ground seeming to realize how much he fucked up, "Sit on him," She told her new animal friends and there was a flurry of fur as Tucker shrieks before he's buried under the bulk of the large bear, only his poor arm flailing around as he tried to shift the bulk of probably 200 pounds of black bear off of him. Sam and Danny sniggered before Sam gestured for the bear to get up, revealing a Tucker who gave Sam a glare. It only served to make the two of them laugh even harder falling off the log by him.

"You're already mad with power," Tucker intoned ominously, before dissolving into giggles as well.

The animals slowly began to disperse as the three continued their break, finally relaxed and a new understanding of themselves and each other.

"You know, with my control over tech, Danny's control of blob ghosts and Sam's control over nature, we totally could be a world dominating club." Tucker mused, making Sam and Danny groan as they begin to sit up, their introspective mood broken. "What I'm just saying, we've got all the makings of it! We could just start small and overthrow Vlad!" At that Danny paused, looking thoughtful while Sam sighed again.

"Let's table it for later, for now want to come over to my place to drop this garbage off and make my mom lose her head as we play Doomed?" Fighting off a smile at the two whoops of joy, she picks up the trash bags, a hand gliding gently over the bark of the nearest tree and feeling the whole forest brush once more against her, like a warm and dewy cat. With her boys at her back and the nature around her, she finally believed.

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Aaand Scene, thanks so much for reading this far! Prompt was by @everystarstorm and I had an absolute blast playing around with it! I know it’s a little bit scuffed, I’m still feeling out the characters and honestly it’s been a long time since I’ve actually seen Danny Phantom. I literally thought Undergrowth’s name was actually overgrowth haha. But I’m pretty proud of how it turned out. :) thanks for the prompt again Kibby and I hope you enjoyed it.

#Danny Phantom #phic phight #phic phight 2023 #the reason this took so long is kittens #fostering kittens found under our deck for a month now #it ate up all my time literally #yall have no idea how happy I am to have finished it though

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