#and it would be so sad 🥺🥺🥺 and then you would just kind of distantly orbit each other's lives 🥺

[willowser]

willow i am wondering and pondering on your thoughts on bakugou saying i love you🤔 I’m not sure if you’ve written anything on it (i would read it immediately fyi so do tell). i think i hc my bkg similarly to yours especially your younger bkg even though it’s so sad and tragic to think of him during his late teens-early 20s :( do you envision him ever being in love at that time also?? i doubt 22 year old bkg could pull himself together 🥺😔 but he’s been through a lot so loving someone is last on his mind but i like to think that at maybe 24-27 he’d be soooo okay with saying i love you first🥺 like you said he’s such a random romantic he barely even registers that he is🥺😭 sorry for rambling will kissing and smooching u first!!

oh man, early 20s bakugou 🥺 my poor sweet 🥺 tbh i really don't see him being in love at that time 🥺 i think even if he found you at that period in his life and you were everything he could ever dream of—i really think he just doesn't have the emotional capacity to touch that with a ten foot pole like. he can't give the time or the vulnerability or the sensibility. i think bakugou finding love for the first time is a real discovery process for him, and i think early 20s bakugou is so incredibly and whole-heartedly devoted to heroism, like there's just no room for anything else. maybe—maybe, maybe, maybe—he would try it out for a hot second, and it wouldn't go the way it should and he knows it and at that point he would just call it quits to be safe.

i think by the time he hits around 25 though he's on the up and up !! a little more familiar with navigating everything that's happened to him, able to become more aware of his feelings and the things he wants and what he's able to give to those things. i think this is the point in his life when he really shows his feelings through his actions 😌 like he's really going all out to show you how he feels, because i think he still might feel a little awkward voicing those things—unless it's in those random moments where he's not thinking about it too hard LOL

when i picture him saying it for the first time, i imagine you're in bed together, cooling off, catching your breath. you roll over to rest your head on his arm, even though he's sweating LOL, and he turns his head enough to press his mouth to your hair, even though you're sweaty LOL, and he just kind of quietly mumbles it after a long moment.

just a very simple and quiet i love you 🥺 doesn't want to make a big deal out of it 🥺 but when you say it back, he's trying very hard not to smile aifnruajaka he's so cute i'm biting him

[gretagerwigsmuse]

oh my god may!!! this is better than anything i could’ve imagined when you first mentioned the marriage of convenience trope! the reader seems like such a sweet and kind person and just deserves to be someone’s priority and be taken care in some way to make her load a little lighter (because as good as it is to be able to take care of yourself, everyone deserves to have someone there for them)? and bradley seems so…soft and sweet and earnest? i can tell he already cares for her (their scene on the floor in the hard deck when she tells him she’s pregnant was so well written, right down to their body language, i loved it)!

anyway i’m so excited for any other parts of this you decide to write, but i included my favorite parts/comments below!

There’s something about Bradley Bradshaw. You like to think of it as a gravitational pull. Something with force, something that makes people look at him. Something that grounds them, too, though, gives them a tether. Ever since he first walked into this bar a little over a year ago, it’s like he’s become a fixture in your life, even if you only see him once or twice a week, even if it’s just a quick exchange of words over a countertop. Bradley Bradshaw makes for a good North Star. - ‘even if you only see him once or twice a week’ lord i know it’s the highlight of his week 🥹 i really the love the whole ‘north star’ motif you have going too! it’s just such a nice and lovely and honest observation for someone to make about another person? like it’s so wholesome and shows how kind and true the other person is?

“Why…” Luke pauses. “Why are you telling me this?” When you look up at his face again, his expression is carefully blank. “Uh…” “Shouldn’t you be telling the father?” - this was so fucking shitty i swear to god i gasped when i first read it

“I can’t give you that,” he says, “because I already have a family.” - i mean…i had a feeling, but to have the verbal confirmation?? this really hurt 🥺 so yeah fuck you too luke

This is the thing about Bradley Bradshaw. He has the kind of face that makes you want to tell him things. Makes you want to spill your secrets to him, pour them into his space. He’s steady, reliable, calm. It would be so easy to trust him. - for real those brown eyes would make me cave so fucking fast

You can tell he wants to ask more, but he gives you a second before his next question. “And you… you guys are gonna try co-parenting? Or is he… are you going to get married?” That makes you frown. You say, “What is this, the 1950s?” “I just think….” Bradley clears his throat. “I just think if you get a girl pregnant, you should step up. Take responsibility.” Of course he’d think that. You’re not even surprised. There’s always been something traditional about Bradley Bradshaw, like he’s one of those men written by women people rave about all over TikTok. If he takes a girl out on a date, he probably holds open car doors and pulls out chairs for her, hands her his jacket if she gets cold. Distantly, you wonder what that would be like? - confirmed only flaw is that he drives a “monstrosity” of a car. but the last line maybe me so sad! like girl just because luke didn’t care to do any of that stuff with you doesn’t mean you aren’t deserving of it 🥺 sweet girl! and i know it’s nice to be able to take care of yourself, but you shouldn’t always have to? like even just knowing someone else wants to take care of you?

“Yeah,” Bradley says, completely sincere. “Your body, your choice.” Now you do snort. “What, are we at a rally?” “I follow a few Instagram accounts,” he admits. His voice has gone almost sheepish. “Abortion rights should be everybody’s concern. Nobody’s free until everybody’s free.” - WHAT ARE WE AT A RALLY? I FOLLOW A FEW INSTAGRAM ACCOUNTS?? that was so unexpectedly cute ☺️

Bradley seems to think about it for a long moment, his face unreadbale. Then finally, he says, “There’d be something in it for me, too, you know? I’ve been meaning to get assigned to North Island permanently, do a relocation. But those spots tend to go to the guys with family, so…” He shrugs, but the gesture seems forced. “I could help you out, you could help me out. Win-win.” - yeah bradshaw major win-win for you 😉 he thinks quick on his feet i’ll give him that

“That’s all?” you ask, and you don’t know why there’s something like disappointment in your voice. Bradley looks like he wants to say something else, and for a moment his face is vulnerable. But then it shutters again, and he nods. “That’s all.” - john mulaney voice “and i said [‘that’s all’], you know, like a liar” yeah sure sure, that’s all my ass. i can’t wait till all their “show for show” and “that’s all” little comments come back later and they’re all just angsty as fuck sorry i love yearning

So you go on, “And I wouldn’t, like… Like you’d still get to do anything you want. I wouldn’t expect you to help with the baby or anything. And you could keep dating, of course, you could, I won’t mind. I promise. It’d just be for show, right?” Bradley hesitates, and for a second, you think he’s going to say something. But then he just shrugs, nods, says, “That’s fine. Yeah. Whatever you want.” - i don’t know which part of her sentence made bradley hesitate/want to say something (the keep dating thing? the just for show thing? the not helping thing?) EITHER WAY my heart clenched at all of them and like i just - oh god none of these are going to happen or they are and they’re both going to realize just how much they hate it

When Bradley pulls you into his arms, when he holds you against his chest loosely, carefully, giving you room to pull away at any moment, the whole thing almost bowls you over. It’s the first time anybody’s hugged you since you found out you’re pregnant, since your entire world came crashing down, and you can’t help yourself. It’s a visceral reaction. You cling to him, wrap your arms around his neck, press your face into his shoulder and your chest against his and squeeze your eyes shut, and stay there for longer than you planned to, longer than you should. Let him hold you tight enough that for a moment, for a while, it almost feels like you’re whole again. Like you’re not alone. - this was so fucking cute i swear i actually let out a sigh 🥹 like i just think it’s so wholesome of her to be like “no one’s hugged me since…” like??? sweet girl ENOUGH of the tears! i’m curious if she’s gonna have any other support system in the future parts? like a group of girlfriends etc? it seems like phoenix likes her (and is probably trying to play wingwoman a bit though i doubt her plan for bradley was to marry the girl? ‘you couldn’t have just asked her out to dinner? you had to start with a marriage proposal?’). i feel like there’s going to be so much ‘platonic cuddling’ and ‘platonic forehead kisses’ and ‘platonic hugging’ between them in the coming parts (bradley def gives good hugs). and GIRL YOURE NOT ALONE YOURE LITERALLY GOING TO HAVE A HOT HUSBAND THAT DEFINITELY ALREADY HAS THE BIGGEST CRUSH ON YOU?!?

baby, let's play house. rooster (part 1)

pairing ; bradley bradshaw x female!reader

synopsis ; marriage of convenience. you got yourself in trouble. bradley has a bit of a savior complex. together, you come up with what could potentially be the worst idea in the longstanding and illustrious history of bad ideas.

wc ; 12.5k

warnings ; 18+ only, minors do NOT interact; angst; explicit language; explicit sexual content in later parts; pregnancy; mentions of infidelity; mentions of vomit; mentions of Tom Cruise; unhealthy family dynamics; one mention of suic*de but it's not a plot point; age gap

note: uhm... i blacked out. idk either. part 2 should be out eventually, which of course means that i haven't even started writing it yet. there will probably be several mistakes in here regarding the navy, etc. so i'm sorry about that i'm just dumb :-(

sol. sunderlust. crab. bestie... i love you forever, what would i ever do without you?

When you’re fourteen, sitting on a floral couch in one of the nondescript, army-commissioned houses you’ve been moving to every few months since you were old enough to remember, your mother turns on Cocktail with Tom Cruise, and you decide that, once you’re grown up, you’re going to be a bartender. You’re going to do just what Tom does - get a job in some dive, work your way up, learn the bottle slinging and the shot pouring and the flirting, and then you’re going to franchise the whole thing and take it national. It’s going to be just like TGI Fridays, except your drinks will actually be good instead of whatever watered-down punch they serve.

Of course, you’re fourteen, and you don’t even know what alcohol tastes like yet. Years later, you’re going to take a shot of Tequila at a bar, you’re going to splutter and cough and think you might choke, and it’ll leave you wondering if maybe you’ve made a mistake. But for now, you’ve got a dream, and you’ve got a plan, and not a smidge of doubt that you’ll make it all come true.

You’re going to do just as Tom Cruise does - minus the best friend’s suicide from the movie and the real-life Scientology thing and all that. But you’re going to be successful. You know it.

So this, then. This is not part of your plan at all.

Keep reading

[willowser]

ma’am i only found your blog yesterday but your ex hubby bakugo got me in a trance, and i hsjsksksksksk, but ill present you: ‘drunk ex husband bakugo’ i- i mean he would be so silly and calls you at 1am to tell you how much he loves you and the little one and how much he misses you, babbles away all the nonsense else, but the way he murmurs and mumbles silly things on the phone got you giggle at midnight (and sad at the time because holy hell you miss him too), then you have to talk him out of it to go home and sleep, he listens, he goes home, yeah, and 10 minutes later he shows up at your front door (still hella woozy) because he is just that stupidly drunk and he has always wanted to go home to you :((

ANON ??? OUCH ????? THIS MAKES ME SAD AKFJSODHAIA

i've always wanted to do drunk ex-whathaveyou bakugou that shows up at your door too late 🥺 but in this instance !! i feel like. you get a few calls in the middle of the night, but they're very short ?? like you wake up to your phone ringing and it's his number, so you're reaching for it, but it stops before you can answer. and you're thinking, "darn i must have slept through the first few rings," and as you're typing out a text to check in with him, he calls again for like two rings, and then it stops. and then he calls and it rings for one and then it stops.

and so now you're like — okay maybe he's butt-dialing me LOL but he tries again like 20 minutes later and you're so tired of the ring-tone that you answer it as fast as you can and just listen, waiting to see if you can hear his voice distantly, as if you're down in his back-pocket.

but he grumbles, "—the fuck? hello?"

and you ask him, "uh hey, have you been trying to call me?" but you're almost certain he doesn't hear you, because half-way through you are able to hear the loud background music and then the sound of shuffling, his grumpy lil "—the fuck off me, 'm—shut th'hell up—'m on the DAMN PHONE!"

clearly, there's a struggle, so you just kind of wait, worried you're about to hear your ex-husband get nerfed while on patrol maybe ?? but then the music drops away and is replaced by a barely-there scratchy wind, and he's breathless when he asks if you're still there.

"yeah, no, i'm still here. is...everything okay?"

he huffs, so heavy into the phone that the static almost hurts your ears. "whadda'you think?"

it's bitter enough that you blink in the darkness of your room, before glaring at the opposite wall. "excuse me?"

"fuck, 'm sorry, i—fuck." he inhales audibly, stuttering. "i'm sorry."

you frown, head turning; he sounds lazy, like he can't be assed to speak properly, and he's speaks impolitely on the regular — but it's never this bad. all his words sound curved, looped together, and he's shuffling too much on the other end, sniffing loud and mumbling to himself. almost like he's—

"are you...drunk?"

you're expecting an immediate no, even if evidence is proving otherwise, because he's not a drinker. occasionally, when he's out for dinner or at one of kirishima's backyard barbecues, but it's so infrequent that his tolerance is low, for someone of his size. it doesn't take much to have him a little sloshed, and he hates it, not only for the feeling the day after, but because his mouth tends to run. more than usual.

"it's that fuckin'—dunce head ass 'n his—stupid piano teeth, tape-face—"

kaminari and sero, you think. you think.

"'n i didn't want to fuckin' come to shit like this, ever. because they're so 'blah fuckin' blah, get over yourself', as if i'm—whatever. dumbasses." he pauses, and before you can finish piecing together what he's trying to say, he continues. "'n i'm not even like them, because they're fucking losers, and i don't—i don't even want that chick's number, okay? i don't fuckin' care, okay?"

your heart throbs dangerously, suddenly swollen and too tender, at the very thought of him and someone else, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut tight. "bakugou—"

"bakugou?" he cuts you off loudly, offended. "'r'you fuckin'—sorry, shit. bakugou? you're a goddamn bakugou—"

you have the throw the blankets off your lap so that you can hurry to your bedroom door, to shut it before hissing at him. "i'm not gonna sit here and get cussed out, katsuki. we're divorced."

"sorry! fuck, i'm—i mean—sorry, sorry. 'm not—it ain't at you, y'know? you know that, right?"

and you do. you do know that. it's just how he talks, he would tell you, and he would cut down on it for a little while before it inevitably came back and — it just hurts, at times. to be on the receiving end of his hottest flame.

"yeah," you tell him quietly, leaning against the door when he sighs. "yeah, i know."

"she—" he groans, deep and frustrated. "she fuckin'—god, sorry. she did that t'me all th'time, y'know? 'cut the fuckin' attitude, katsuki,' 'n then fuckin' SMACK!" you can hear the sharp sound of his slap, metallic, like he's against a lamp post or something. "but then she's comin' up t'my room, all like, 'y'know i love you' 'n—how 'm i suppos' t'know that stuff?"

he's never really spoken about his childhood; his parents, yes, through comments here and there about how they irritated him, but nothing serious. you've seen firsthand how tumultuous his relationship with his mother is, and she still smacks him around, but he's big now, much bigger than she is; you never considered what it was like for him, when he was younger.

even if he is drunk, even if he won't remember tomorrow — you still want to be there for him.

you realize he's waiting for an answer, with how long he's quiet, and you shrug to yourself before gently saying, "i don't know, katsuki. it sounds like it would have been very confusing."

"yeah, i mean—" he exhales slowly, though the end trails off into a growl, as if he's grown frustrated again. "i would never fuckin' hit you."

"i know that, katsuki, and i've never thought you would. and i would never hit you, either, y'know?"

"yeah," he repeats, and you can hear him swallowing, the sound so thick that you think he might choke. "i'd never hit you, or—or—hey, where is he? i wanna talk to 'im."

at the mention of your son, you peek down the hall to make sure his door isn't open, that he's not snooping around like you've caught him doing lately — but it's still mostly closed, and you don't hear any little feet against the hardwood.

you squint at your phone, blinded momentarily at the blue-light as you check the time. "it's the middle of the night, katsuki, he's asleep."

"did he have a good day?"

"yeah, he—"

"tell me about it. tell me th-the whole thing."

and — you do, as he listens and grunts and murmurs little things you don't catch. occasionally, he'll groan, really quiet like he's trying not to cry, and it's after the third time he asks to speak to him again that you finally decide to call him an uber.

and you put in his home address !!! but not thirty minutes later, you are sort of roused out of sleep because he's lightly knocking on your door, in the middle of the night, and you have to get up and go check so he doesn't wake your son up !!!!

and he's probably a MESS, all red-faced and SAD, rubbing at his eyes, almost tripping into your house because he was leaning against the door. it's not even worth arguing about getting him to his actual home because it's late and he's being a little loud, so you just give him some water and make him lay down on the couch and — he's out like a light right away LOL

but. you wake up a few hours later to him laying in your bed, on top of the blankets, his pants are on the floor but his shirt and jacket are still on LOL and he's not quite touching you, but if you jostle even a little bit, his face will press into your back 🥺 you don't know when he got up and came into your room, but he was sober enough to be quiet about it, and when you wake up in the morning, he's already re-dressed and sitting with your son at the kitchen table 🥺

WAAAAHHH i made this so sad. i'm so sorry akjfajfajaljfa he's such a BABY !!! god help me, bc if it really was me, i would take him back in a heartbeat LOL