#and now Mickey's sister too?????

[nerdtierbullshit]

Revolutionary Girl Utena Characters Be Normal About Their Siblings Challenge.

[d0llh0use-of-h0rr0rz]

🍨🎊🌈Topsy's Funhouse🌈🎊🍨

"Try the ice cream, it's to die for!"

[svtswhorehouse]

DATING SEUNGKWAN INCLUDES…. — sfw

• he’s definitely the type of person to call you pookie.

• he uses the term “gyat” whenever he sees your butt. not in a sexual way, someone pls take away tiktok from him.

• his go to nickname for you is DEFINITELY boo — he thinks he’s soooo creative for this.

• he is constantly thinking of you. whenever he's buying groceries he always asks if you need something, before he makes plans with someone else he makes sure you don't want to hang out, or he thinks carefully about what he says to you incase he hurts your feelings with his jokes.

• he treats you like his personal diary. seungkwan was used to writing in his journal every night before you two started dating. you are the one person he truly feels "seen" with.

• y'all once had a phase in your relationship in which he would wake you up at the crack of dawn to exercise with him.

• one day you decided to drag him to a pilates class. he complained the entire way there, but ended up loving it. now it's HIM that drags you to the class.

• he makes sure you take your vitamins ! he's definitely the type to prioritize your health more than you do.

• if y'all aren't together for the day and you tell him you haven't eaten, there's definitely gonna be a food delivery at your door within the next hour or so.

• he's the type to get SLIGHTLY jealous, but after some reassuring he would let it go quickly.

• i'm ngl, he's not against being the big spoon, but he probably prefers little spoon tbh.

• he makes sure you know all the iconic korean songs word for word from back in the day. if you can't sing every single girl’s generation song start to finish with him, you're gonna get side eyed.

• whenever you two are separated because of touring or work, y'all are definitely the type of couple to FaceTime 24/7 and have meals together. you two also fall asleep while on the call.

• he was SO SO nervous when meeting your parents for the first time he thought he was going to pass out.

• he is NOT a morning person. he gets so sassy, sometimes you have to give him that mom look.

• seungkwan constantly praises you and makes sure you never doubt yourself.

• before you two started dating, it was actually really easy to make him flustered. he blushed with everything you did and every word you said. the rest of seventeen ended up having to play matchmaker because he was too shy to make a move.

• karaoke dates are a MUST !!!!

• y’all are the type of couple to go to disney with matching shirts and mickey mouse ears.

• he would try and teach you badminton, but gets frustrated and ends up just having you be his cute lil cheerleader on the sidelines.

• y’all typically always meet at a cafe to have a coffee or grab a bite on your lunch breaks.

• he has made it a tradition to sing you a ballad on your birthday. you look forward to it every year.

• he forces you to do face masks with him or indulge in self care nights. you don’t care though cause who can say no to a bubble bath with him.

• he would definitely pass the orange peel theory.

• you have a folder in your camera roll specifically dedicated to photos of him that would make good memes.

• you’re really close to both of his sisters and tend to go out on cute girls nights with them. sometimes seungkwan tries to worm his way along to make sure y’all aren’t talking shit about him lol.

• y’all have promise rings !!!

• he actually has your proposal planned down to the t. i’m talking ring, place, and moment.

• he’s such an active person that loves to do a bunch of activities, but it’s nice because it gets you out of the house.

• seungkwan is a person who constantly has to be doing something otherwise he feels unproductive so having you around definitely brings him down to earth. you’re the only person able to get him to relax.

• he always has a bunch of snacks on him so if you ever get hungry, don’t worry. you know who to ask.

• at the end of the day when y’all are cuddled up in bed together, you two typically watch dramas to fall asleep. it’s kind of difficult though because kwannie gets so into it and sometimes yells at the t.v :/

[ddejavvu]

can I request a drabble or fic about Curtis sister getting bullied?

sigh. writing curtis!sister stuff is so nostalgic and personal to me. inside of me lives a thirteen year old girl who desperately wanted them to be my brothers. this is for little meimei <33

send me requests for the outsiders!

--

You'd been expecting Steve to pick you up from school, but there must have been a rush at the DX, because it's Two-Bit's creaky old car that chugs along the back street. That's fine too - you could use a laugh after today.

There's a certain level of teasing that you've come to expect because of your social status, but lately some of the older girls around school have made it their personal mission to go above and beyond the standard. Just today they'd begun making fun of the keychain attached to your bookbag- a mickey mouse pendant that had been a gift from Two-Bit himself. Stolen, of course, but not from just any corner store. No, that one had come from a big fancy Disney store, in a big fancy mall hours outside of Tulsa.

He'd been grossly proud of himself when he'd given it to you for your birthday, but according to those older girls, Mickey Mouse was for kids, and that made you one.

You'd tucked it safely into the front pocket of your bag, but Two-Bit notices its absence when you slide into the front seat like there's a neon sign advertising it.

"Hey, kid, where's the keychain?" He nods at your bag, "Did it break off already? Damn Disney, makin' cheap, lousy shit."

"No, it's- it didn't break." You settle into your seat, "I just- took it off."

Two-Bit's hands tighten slightly on the wheel, and he clears his throat, attempting to remain nonchalant.

"Oh. Any reason?"

You think you've hurt his feelings. He's quiet in a way that he usually isn't, and there's no trace of his signature brand of playfulness.

"It's not that I don't like it, Two." You reassure him, reaching over to brace your hand against his leg briefly. He glances at it, throwing you a smile, albeit a wounded one. "I just- I had it on my bag this morning, but then- I dunno, some girls were teasing me about it. I just wanted to avoid trouble."

You'd been attempting to relieve him of any hurt, but now he looks like he wants to hurt the girls you're talking about. He doesn't go to school very often, choosing instead to bum around at your house with a beer and a slice of cake. But you have a sinking feeling that he's going to have perfect attendance from now on, as your personal bodyguard.

"They're pickin' on you?" He asks, glancing over at you from the side of his eye as he tries keeping his focus on the road.

"It's not that bad," You lie, shrugging and reaching into your bag to put your keychain back where it belongs, displayed proudly on your zipper, "They're just high school bullies, Two. Don't worry about it. And don't- don't tell Darry. Please?"

"I don't know, kid." Two-Bit's jaw tightens, shifting as he turns a corner towards the east side of town, "I don't like this. No one should be picking on you. And not to brag, but I know how much you like that keychain. If it's bad enough for you to hide it..."

"It's not that bad, I just- I'm trying to make sure it doesn't get worse. I'm fine," You vow, but there's still a pool of dread in your gut whenever one of the girls' faces flashes in your mind.

"I'm comin' with you tomorrow to school," Two-Bit decides predictably, "And I'm gonna see it for myself, and if they're really layin' into you, I'm rallying the whole gang. Including your brothers. Let us help you, kid."

"No, please-? I don't wanna make it a big deal," You gush, "Two-Bit, everybody's stressed enough. Darry barely has any time to sleep, Soda's worryin' all day about Sandy, Ponyboy's gotta study or Darry'll be on him, just- I don't need to make things worse."

"You aren't makin' anything worse." He frowns, pulling over to the side of the road to turn towards you without the threat of crashing, "Those girls are. Listen, kid. Your brothers care about'cha. We all do. And all of us'd be happy to stick up for you. You know how much fun me 'n Steve would have rippin' into a bunch of mean girls?"

"Don't tell them yet." You insist, but you feel the sincerity of his speech, "Just- wait and see tomorrow. You'll probably scare 'em off anyways."

"I'll wear my best Mickey Mouse shirt," Two promises, his usual shit-eating grin now triumphantly returned to his face as he merges back into the road, "And by that I mean my only one- 'nless you count the old gym shirt my sister drew on."

--

You're nervous about walking back into school with the Mickey Mouse keychain hanging from your bag once more, but you're flanked by an unknowing Ponyboy on your left and a determined Two-Bit on your right, so you know no harm will come to you. Two-Bit is, in fact, wearing his Mickey shirt beneath his leather jacket, practically a dare for anyone to come and say something to him about you.

You think you're in the clear until the three girls you'd been cornered by the day before spot you, and neither Two-Bit nor Ponyboy notice their expressions, but you feel their gaze on the back of your neck. You're sure your keychain is bouncing around in plain sight from the movement of your stride, but with your two bodyguards around none of them dare to say anything.

Two-Bit drops you off at the door to your first class, raising his eyebrows knowingly but subtle enough that it slips past Ponyboy.

"'Kay. I'll meetcha here after class. Wanna sit with us for lunch, kid?"

You nod, thankful that he phrased it as an invitation so that Pony is none the wiser. In reality, you'd been planning on clinging to Two-Bit's leather jacket the entire lunch period. You're glad you have an excuse to do so, now.

You're lucky enough to have B-track classes today, which puts you in different groups than yesterday's A-track. It means that your only possible encounters with the three girls are in the hallways, but Two-Bit makes it impossible for anyone to pick on you by tailing you to each of your classes.

You think you've made it out alive- hopefully forever, by the end of the school day, and the ride home in Two-Bit's creaky little car feels miles better than it had the day before. Ponyboy's silent in the backseat, but that's usual for him, and you think nothing of it as you enjoy the ice cream that Two-Bit buys for the three of you.

It's when you're home that things really go downhill, sitting quietly around the dinner table when Ponyboy speaks for the first time all night.

"Y/N, why didn't'cha tell us you're getting picked on?" He raises the question quietly, but it's just for show- you know he's irritated, and Darry and Soda both straighten in their seats.

"What?" You feign innocence, digging your fork through the spaghetti on your plate, "What are you talkin' about, Pony?"

"These girls were talkin' about you in my history class." Ponyboy grumbles, and shit, you hadn't even considered the possibility of them sharing a class with your brother. You know he's smart for his age, that he was placed a year ahead of his grade level, but you hadn't connected the dots that they'd be in the same classes.

Darry's focus is on you now, but you know him and Soda are both still waiting for Ponyboy to continue. You avoid all three of their gazes, scrutinizing your spaghetti instead.

"They said they were planning on cornering you today. But they said since Two and I were with 'ya, they couldn't. Why didn't'cha tell us they were bothering you?"

Darry shifts forwards in his seat, more intimidating than he means to be. He's worried, you know that, but that's what you'd been trying to avoid.

"It's nothing serious, Pony." You try placating him, the whole table for that matter, "They're just mean girls. I'm handling it fine, really."

"They were talkin' about cornering you?" Darry finally speaks up, his voice unconsciously booming, "Y/N, I don't think you could've handled yourself then. Now I know you don't like makin' a scene but they could've hurt you. How many of 'em are there?"

"Three." You mumble, "Darry, I- I would've got out of it okay, really! They're real preppy, put-together girls, they probably wouldn't fight. Pro'lly just wanted to call me names or something."

"I don't want someone callin' you names, either." Soda frowns, his own plate forgotten as he focuses on you, "Did you tell a teacher about it?"

"No, it's- it's not that bad! Really, guys, you're overreacting. It's just high school drama. It sounds worse than it is."

"I don't like it." Darry decides, a note of finality in his voice that you're not happy about, "That ain't okay. And you know we'd back you up, kiddo. Pony, Johnny and Steve are there every day, and if you told Two-Bit, I'm sure he'd show up too."

"I did tell Two-Bit," You admit reluctantly, and rush to finish before your brothers get offended, "He got it out of me on the way home yesterday. That's why he came today, to make sure none of 'em got a hold of me."

"See, you do need a bodyguard," Soda reasons, leaning back in his chair, "Maybe I oughta take a day off from work. Drop you off tomorrow, give 'em the death stare or somethin'. If you want, I can have Dally tag along, that'll really scare 'em."

"No! No, don't take the day off, and- and don't show up! Especially not with Dallas," You groan, "This is why I didn't tell any of you guys. You have enough to worry about, you don't need to get involved in girl stuff."

Darry kicks your foot under the table, not hard, but reassuring, "Don't say that, kiddo. It ain't just 'girl stuff' if you're gettin' cornered at school. And we'd be more worried if you came home with a black eye. Now you let us all pick you up from school tomorrow, m'kay? Keep the boys with you, and Pony, keep an eye on those girls in class to see if they talk any more about Y/N."

"I will." Pony vows, and Soda finally relaxes, going for another bite of spaghetti at the same time that he tries speaking.

"Steve and I'll whip 'em if they act out," He promises through a mouthful of food, eliciting a sickened laugh from you, and two groans from your other brothers.

"Chew your food, Soda," Pony grimaces, and Darry elbows Soda unimpressed.

"Thanks, guys." You mumble, bashful for needing help but grateful your brothers are so willing to step into the ring for you, "It's- it's really not that bad but thank you for helping me anyways."

"Anytime, kiddo," Darry promises, a rare smile crossing his face, "Can't have the best of us gettin' beat up at school."

"Hey! The best of us?" Ponyboy glares at Darry, stabbing his spaghetti, "What happened to my big brains?"

"I dunno, I think you lost 'em when you fell from the top of the drive-in fence," You smirk at your youngest brother, still older but easiest to tease, "You hit the ground pretty hard."

Soda erupts into laughter at the memory, and Ponyboy continues his vicious assault on his dinner while Darry smothers a laugh, trying to keep the peace.

"But we mean it." Darry looks at you again, a hint of that former sternness crossing his face again, "If you need muscle, you got it. Ain't nobody gonna mess with my kid sister."

"'Specially not if Dallas shows up," Soda snickers, "Them girls'll go runnin' for the hills when they see him helpin' you in the car."

"Tell him to behave himself," You groan, "I don't need to be called into the office 'cause my brother's friend flashed a heater 'round the parking lot."

"He never behaves himself," Pony scoffs, "But if them girls are smart enough, they'll stay away from you before he has to get crazy on 'em."

"They'll stay away from you," Darry vows, and you believe him with the way the muscles in his strong arms flex as he leans forwards on the table, "Or they're gonna have to worry about somethin' worse than Dally."

[missmarveledsblog]

Fan girl ( Mickey garcia x reader)

summary : when bob is sent from the hard deck to his little sisters sos message well she is not what they expect

warnings : other then shitty friend it's mostly goofy fluffy fun. mutual pining , slight age gap like ten years or less , idiots in love nerdy good fun , dry humping is as smutty as this part goes next part will be more spicy if another part is wanted that is ?

The hard deck well was the hard deck , the place filling up , tag chasers sizing up what  would be their goal for the night as the naval officer done the same.   bob nursed his ginger ale listening to phoenix talking away to him and javy , watching rooster and jake sizing the sea of woman as well as each other like a competition  and listening to fanboy talking about the latest season of some fantasy show he was watching as payback simply asked what he done last night  . that was til the buzzing of his phone pulled from his pocket looking at the string of texts coming up , he knew she was in san diego , they planned to meet up some point  but what he didn’t expect an SOS  and his little sister almost begging him to get her .  He tensed up standing almost spilling his soda . 

“ hey what’s wrong” phoenix asked concerned tone pulling his fellow dagger squads attention. 

“ i gotta go my little sister is in trouble and needs me , shit where are my key” he panicked looking around. 

“ pocket come on” nat took the keys from his pocket placing them in his hand. 

“ hey i’ll pay your tab” she smiled softly as he nodded . 

“ we’ll come too incase “ rooster pulled the nearest to him which happened to be hangman and fanboy . 

Rushing out he was scared shitless afraid of what was going on and what trouble she could of gotten into at a comic book convention . 

The crowd thick ,  eager  fans pushing and shoving dying to  get a touch even a glimpse of the panels and their stars  and usually she was the same . an eager bunny ready to hear the plans and spoilers to a new movie coming .  But now she felt small , tiny as she looked down at her costume , the cosplay she took months perfecting  and yet the whole mood soured by her so called best friend and her weird ass boyfriend . it was honestly so childish and petty but hell her family told her to watch out for that one  and now she was stranded at a convention in san diego the only upside was her brother being stationed here somewhere she was unsure where but honestly the “ i told you so “ lecture would be worth it if it meant she wasn’t left alone in a big place she no idea where she was .   a few  saw her distress eager to help even offering to stay with her while she  text her brother  and if he was coming they would stay til she was safe .  and they did but she eventually told them she was fine making her way out to the entrance knowing her brother was on the way . it really wasn’t her fault and should of seen it coming the whole trip was iffy carrying the bags of her back as she soldiered on to out to the front.  She felt sick and scared and now she was crying outside dressed up while people looked at her like she was some kind of weirdo . 

“ hey sweetcheeks what’s the tears for “ a voice called looking to see a dude coming her way dressed as batman not even a good batman more dollar store kind. 

“ i’m ok i just wanna be alone thank you “ she sniffled moving away .

“ come on don’t be like that  you shouldn’t cry your too hot too cry”  he smiled hand coming to her cheek as she pulled away . “ come on i’m nice guy” he said standing to her closer .

“ stand back “ she snapped only for him to pull her arm harder and her knee to come up hitting him so hard honestly she turned his balls into  a bat cave sending him  groaning to the ground only the dude seemly wasn’t happy to be bested as he pulled her again . 

“ LET HER GO” was all she heard and seen was her brother and three men charging towards her. 

“ fuck off man we’re talking “ the man groaned still trying to push past the pain . 

“ no were are not douche wayne” she stomped on his foot and  grabbing her bags and running to her big brother .   as he went to follow her only for bob to pull her behind him . 

“ i’d walk if i were you these ain’t costumes little boy” the tall blonde smirked as  the man finally caught a look ,   his face draining of any color staring up at the men before him .  walking away muttering something about her being “ a bitch anyway” . 

“ what the hell why you alone where’s annabelle “ bob asked checking her over making sure she wasn’t hurt although her arm was red. 

“ she left me here , her stupid boyfriend kept making sleazy comments and she blamed me after i told him stop  she got my bags and stuff out of her car and they drove off left me here” she sniffled tears filling her eyes. 

“ come on we get you back to mine knew she was a snake “ he gruffed, throwing his coat over her body . 

“ thank you and you guys “ she turned to see his friends all bashful smiled thrown her way . 

“ Did you know bob’s sister was hot” rooster whispered as the two men shook their  heads . 

“ hey baby on board you gonna introduce us to this sweetheart” the blonde called . 

“ hangman  , rooster , fanboy this is my little sister y/n  , y/n this is three of the  seven dagger squad member .. now there come “ he said still pissed she was left stranded and hell annabelle was definitely not gonna be let off with it when he told his other two sisters . she was the baby of the family of course they were protective . 

She sat in the car , she just wanted to get in her pj’s and binge a comfort show but now she was hyper aware of the beautiful ass men in the back seat of  the car . 

“ nice costume darling “ the blonde drawled . 

“ its a cosplay man , right pretty girl..who is it ? “ the mustache man scoffed before a sweet smile turned to her . 

“ Daenerys targaryen “ the one with the kind eyes spoke up.  “ violet eyes “ he explained. 

“  exactly you got that from the white hair and violet eyes most people thought i was Rhaenyra since the whole house of dragons thing “ . 

“ i recognised the clothes from the season one when she was with the dothraki” he spoke up getting more animated as the other two looked completely lost .

“ hey ten point to ..” she paused unsure which one he was but she was guessing who it might be. 

“ fanboy ma’am but mickey is fine” he smiled . 

“ well ten points for mickey “ she giggled . 

“ hey that’s show were they have sex and dragons right” the blonde asked. 

“ yes but it more to it hangman right … i’m bradley “. 

“ he’s right a lot more than sex and dragons but they are cool too i guess” she snorted only for her phone to start buzzing . “ you called mama” she squeaked . 

“ sorry” bob winced although he was on partly sorry . 

“ hey mama … no i’m ok now bobby got me … yeah i’ll stay with him tonight … no mama i haven’t even told him that part” she whined .  

“ told me what?” . 

“ fine i’ll put you on speaker “ she sighed . 

“ bobby baby she can stay with you when she moves there right?” 

“ MAMA im a grown ass woman” she exclaimed .

“ bobby ?” her mother voice called . 

“ of course she can” he nodded . 

“ y’all can hear me right “ she turned to the guys in the back who eagerly nodded.  “ you  know i’m twenty two years old right i ain’t a baby” she called down phone. 

“Thanks bobby “ her mother called.

“Whoops bad signal” she rolled her eyes hanging . 

“ real mature grown up” bob chuckled as he hit the answer button on his car and she groaned face red of course this would happen around the hot guys .

Pulling into bobs  driveway she barely spoke given he was too busy talking to their mom and then it was their dad soon the whole family as she honestly was wondering if the creepy batman was a better choice after all.  She stood stretching out as the guys got out the car too even bob was slightly confused. 

“ can you order pizza bobby i need to shower and wallow for the night maybe watch a movie or two maybe avengers or something”she smiled weakly . 

“Ohh good choice  nat and the guys are on their way “ rooster smiled brightly .

“ oh cool well i’ll go shower” she ran into the house as bob looked into the groupchat . 

“ really hangman “ he rolled his eyes.  “ baby on boards got hot ass sister you gotta see this”  he read the message out . 

“ hey i mean since she gonna be living in san diego it good she has friends right “ he patted his arm heading in the house a swagger on him  ready to  put on his A game .

 “ i won’t let bagman get your sister plus i feel like we had a connection “rooster called as he ran into the WSO  house. 

“ you not going to say anything?” bob look at his friend. 

“ wonder which avenger she like most i like the falcon or winter soldier“ fanboy mused walking with  bob .

It didn’t take long for nat , payback and javy to show up all curious to see how hot said sister was  til she walked out wearing sweats and oversized t-shirt , hair air drying free from the long white wig as she stood seeing more people standing in her brothers living room .  

“ hi i’m nat you must be y/n it nice to meet you “ the dark hair woman stood forward . 

“ nice to meet you too bobby told me all about you .. all of you actually kinda already know all your names “ she chuckled. 

“ yeah well ok come on lets get the movie on “ bob rolled his eyes as she made her way in  her eyes looking to see where to sit and seeing those kind eyes barely looking her eye or trying not to . 

“ mind if i i sit here” she asked pointing to the spot as mickey just smiled the two not even acknowledging the shoving match of the other trying to get the other side til she felt herself bouncing slight. 

“ let watch the revengers huh sweetheart” jake flashed as flirty smile as both her and mickey’s heads shot in his direction . “ if it scary let me know , ill protect ya” he winked . 

“ dude it’s superheroes” rooster rolled his eyes .

“ what one should we watch ohhh maybe timeline order or  we could do mini marathon of them separately although it would only work for some maybe timeline order is best”she mused. 

“ timeline would be better although cause then if we went separately well we would have to watch the series” mickey agreed . 

“  i do need to rewatch the falcon and winter soldier” she nodded . 

“ lets watch that movie” jake nodded. 

“ it’s series no … we could switch and watch different franchise maybe star wars the new acolyte is out “ she mused. 

“ i have yet to watch that i’ve heard mixed review so i’m sort of well waiting to form my own opinion .. if you feeling the superhero vibe we could watch the boys “ he point out as the other were totally lost . 

“ that makes me want to watch supernatural i mean jensen ackles as soldier boy is wow but i do love me some dean winchester” she nodded in agreement. 

“ good omen always makes me wanna watch doctor who obviously david tenant is fantastic but he is my favorite doctor”he chuckled . 

“ oh my god you seeing what i’m seeing “ nat whispered as two nerded out . 

“ unfortunately i do” bob gulped. 

“ can we watch shawshank or something while they figure out well i don’t have a clue what they're even talking about now “ jake head tilted. 

“ i mean i love the last of us the casting is spot on but if they are  sticking to the source material and timeline i am so not looking forward to season two but i am so excited as well “ she sighed .  ( cause same ) 

“ are we invisible to them ?” javy asked looking around the room . 

“ i think that us out of the race “ rooster  chuckled . 

“ are we watching a movie or not” jake asked confused completely and utterly . 

“ oh shit sorry erm we could watch..” 

“ we’re gonna watch shawshank “ bob spoke up saving the whole room from another nerd session .   “ no talking steven king” he added making her mouth close. 

“ i was gonna ask if pizza was coming “ she huffed . 

“ steven king is cool though” mickey whispered making her nod eagerly . 

It was six month since her brother rescued her from being stranded in comic con , creepy batman and meeting his friends  who were also her friends even if she was ten years younger than them it still was nice being able to come to a new place and not feel so alone .  going to the hard deck being able to head to a group and not being a loser sitting on her own .  also another thing she loved was being able to be herself especially with mickey probably only one of the group who shared her love for the things of the nerdy side of life .  the two would talk from everything from gaming , anime and comics . most of time the rest of the group left them to it because it was like they were talking another language.  They did like watching it unfold even bob made his peace at thought of his friend and little sister maybe striking up some form of romance . the only thing that was stopping them was well them , both oblivious to the other feelings that even stevie wonder could see .  so maybe a little help would be ok , a little meddling would be helpful and give them the push they needed . 

She was getting ready knowing the dagger squad coming over for a night of gaming  which honestly she didn’t think twice about  knowing it was probably going to be a few games of mario kart  til jake says it not real game like pool or darts when he loses.  She felt a little silly doing her make up and hair nothing major but she like looking nice especially when a certain hot as fuck WSO was going to be there . she couldn’t help the crush that grown , he was well hot , nerdy and a sweetheart she didn’t even stand a chance .  yet anytime she flirted it was falling on deaf ears or unless it was his way of being kind and not out right rejecting her but hey it didn’t help to look right?. 

He was nervous  , like hands sweating as he walked up his fellow WSO porch all because he had a major crush on his little sister . He didn’t even have an excuse the moment he saw her as Daenerys he was  smitten and the more time he spent time and got to know her  that just made him a goner. Never had he connected with someone  so easily  getting to truly be himself yeah payback was his buddy but even he had to tell mickey to talk about something else , y/n didn’t and when she did it was talked about some just along the line of it .    her smile took his breath away , her eyes made him get lost in them  just everything about her had him falling more and more.

Just as he was about to knock bob open the door stepping out looking at the man smiling nervously before walking around as if he was leaving .

“ wait is it not game night?” he checked his phone checking he had the right night unless he conjured the whole thing .

“ please don’t mess up cause hangman said he has dibs “ was all bob said before running to his car and driving off.

“ where’s he going “ she asked standing at front door brows furrowed .

“Think flying finally caught up to the guys i think they forgot tonight i can go if you want” he curse the lame stupid mind of his .

“ i mean or you could say and we could actually play something decent don’t get me wrong the italian plumber is cool but well it nice to play other game with more to em “ she smiled widely .

“ Or hear me out we can actually watch something we like “ .

“ star war marathon ?”

“ star wars “ he confirmed as two ran into the house excitedly .

Working in a team as she got the snacks and drink and he got the movie up and ready internally screaming to calm the fuck down . his hands so sweaty he was would drop the remote out of his hand and the way his heart was beating she had to of heard it . he felt like a nervous teen being in presence of his crush those nerves pulsing through every fiber his body making him shiver at possibly of making a huge fool of him .

“ you ok .. cold here let me get you a blanket “ those eyes filled with concern or worry making him melt like a puddle maybe it was good thing having her doting on him like this and her attention yet that made him notice that was always something he had. He wondered why that was but the though went as fast as it came the moment She sat down putting The blanket On the two of Them only then he notice the light were dimmed god he needed to get his shit together .

Maybe she was too close way to close , he could probably hear how hard her heart was beating or the way her breathing was labored. hopefully the movie would help distract her , let her gather herself . She watched the text coming on mouthing the lines she seen so many before only to hear the mumbling of said words making her head turn to see mickeys mouth moving she couldn't stop it the giggle that spilled from her lips making his cheeks heat up.

“ sorry” he winced .

“ no don't be it cute“ she whispered unaware her world had on him . the whole time she tried and really tried keeping her eyes on the screen but it was hopeless when they would drift and land on mickey . studying every feature on his face those kind eyes , to the chiseled jawline

“ does he know how hot he is” she thought only it seemed she was thinking out loud .

“ does who know?” .

“ em han solo of course” of course her brain would betray her .

“ i think he does” he chuckled . “ really han solo?” he teased .

“ yeah like you're not gonna drool when leia gets in that bikini” she shot back. “ That is my next cosplay idea” she mused only for him to choke on the air and internally thank whatever god there was a blanket was covering in now. “ wow that bad?” she joked .

“ oh quite the opposite i mean jesus you might kill some dude with heatstroke it will that hot “ he absent mindlessly confessed.

“ i think your being too kind” she snorted .

“ i’m being deadly honest hell have you seen yourself you make jake nervous not that he admit it out loud but shit you would send a guy into cardiac arrest” .

“ yeah ok says the hottest guy ever “ she scoffed only to freeze .

“ hottest guy ever ?” he didn't know were this confidence came from but shot was he gonna question it .

“ so hot id give a dude a heart attack ? “ she countered.

“ i stand by what i said “ he turned so he was facing her the movie long forgotten in the background .

“ i stand by what i said” she copied his movement turning to face him , eyes darting to his lips biting her own .

“ can i .. i wanna kiss you so bad right now” he licked hos lips hands itching to touch her skin .

“ i kinda hope you do “ she smiled softly. that was it that was the ok he needed to surge forward pressing his lips on her . every cliche that she read , seen or heard . those things she felt skeptical about made her want to kick herself cause as she felt herself kissing mickey garcia she understood it all , felt it all . those firework , puzzle piece coming to get , lighting her own dark world , nerve coming alive sort of moment , the soft moan that came muffled by each other . his hand nestled at back of her head and other on her hip pulling her closer her hand scratching the back of his neck . hating her lungs and their stupid need for oxygen she pulled back slightly her head pressed again his delighting in the turn about in the night as he couldn't stop like he was addicted between taking breathes plant soft kisses upon her lips . the kiss starting again more heated as she straddled his lap feeling him nipping her lower lip as she gave him the entrance they both needed , that twirl and dance feeling the taste of each in a tango while his hand fell her hips . her skin heated, burning in a desire that only he could quench . the need building in her core needing the friction she ground down that delightful feeling of him growing hard beneath her , hands guiding her movement panting foreheads pressed together eye locked. blown lust filled pupil and lidded eye mirror between the two as groan came from his mouth and whimpers spilled from her . he could feel that winding and tightening feeling that was building like all his sense on her . only her scent filled his nose , only her sounds filled his ears and one her touch was all that matter . he was addicted not knowing how he went so long in life and never feeling this , fuck he felt like he was robbed . in all that both so lost in a bubble of lust it was lost on them the sound of a key in a door not til they heard the “ Hell yeah” that broke the spell , burst that bubble as mickey looked to see the horrified face of some of dagger squad and proud smile on hangmans .

“maybe you should come stay in mine” nat winced turning and leading bob out the door as hangman walked over high fiving his friend as others gave an awkward wave as the front door closed .

“ they're gone” he whispered abd yet her head didnt lift her cheeks were to red at the fact her brother just caught her like a horny teenager dry humping and heavy petting one of his friends well she was definitely never going to live that down .

“ hey come on” he kissed her cheek hand rubbing up her back she let out content hum at the feeling before she sat up .

“ did this a little backwards but i would love take you out …on a date” he smiled shyly .

“ take me out for breakfast but first mickey … take me to bed” she giggled grinding her hips down . her shrieks filled the house with how fast he lift her up fuck it she already got caught might as well go big or go home as he carried her down the hall .

[gallavichthoughts]

Shut up and kiss me.

Summary: Mickey is a jealous fucker. First kiss. Sort of piggy backing off of the show, mostly made up.

___

Mickey was torn.

He didn't want to seem like a little bitch, or like he was too attached to the boy he'd been sleeping with for almost three months now, not even including his stint in juvie. He was, was the thing. If he wasn't so afraid of being with someone, and mostly of his father, he probably would've handcuffed himself to him and stayed with him constantly.

That was a scary thought.

Ian Gallagher came into his life like a hurricane. All red headed and freckles, high cheekbones and a silly grin and a laugh that had his head spinning and his world turning upside down with want. He would've said he was annoying. Would've told anyone that he hated him, that he wanted to beat the shit out of him every time they saw each other. It would be a lie.

The first day it happened, it was an accident. A total, complete accident that Mickey still relives when he's especially horny and thinking of the other times couldn't quite get him there. That first time was special. One second he was about to beat him with a tire iron that the red headed boy brought to defend himself and the next he had was stripping his clothes off himself. He made the first move. He wanted to do it. And when it was all over, Ian had tried to kiss him, Mickey had warned him that he'd lose his tongue.

If you'd asked Mickey, that was his first mistake. Letting himself give in to temptation that he'd felt towards this boy since his sister claimed to be dating him was a massive terrible mistake. Because now he felt things he couldn't fucking afford to feel.

He wouldn't change it. Even if he could. That was the scariest part.

Now, he's torn between ripping the guy that's flirting with Ian's head off, or laying claim right now. He ended up doing neither one.

Mickey eyed the young guy at the register of the Kash 'N Grab. He was leaned in close to Ian, too close for Mickey's comfort if he did say so himself. Ian had gotten him a job as security of the store not long after the owner had fucking shot him over a candy bar. For some reason, the wife of that guy had decided that Mickey could really help them keep thieving down after Ian had proposed the idea.

Mickey stepped a little closer with his fists balled up. "So tonight at 7? At the diner? I'll meet you there?" The guy had asked his redheaded, even if that wasn't even really the case, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there!"

No, this wouldn't do. Ian was going out with someone tonight, because Mickey was emotionally unavailable. He really couldn't have that. He'd been pining after this boy for so long, has had him pounding into him more times than he could count at this point, and the thought of someone else having that had Mickeys head all fucked up.

Once the man had left, Ian had met Mickey's eyes with a raised eyebrow at the look on his face.

Anger. Annoyance. Jealousy. Rage. Mickey had to look away before all of those feelings boiled over and he said or did something stupid.

"You gonna go out with that queer?" Mickey had asked conversationally as he scanned his eyes over the bags of chips as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Yeah. I'm going out with him again." Ian sipped a beer that he had gotten from the coolers in the store and looked down at the magazine he had been flipping through. Peoples Magazine. How Mickey never noticed he was gay before the tire iron incident, he'd never fucking know.

"Again?" Mickey asked incredulously, "As in. Another time? As in, you've been out with him before?" Mickey couldn't believe how heavy the pit of his stomach suddenly felt.

"Three times now. This will be the fourth. He's nice." Ian couldn't seem less bothered. He was though, Mickey knew him better than that. There was a reason he was seeing someone else all of a sudden. Before, he'd beg Mickey for scraps of affection. Attention. Mickey never gave him what he asked for. He'd bend over for him, he'd suck his cock, but he didn't do hugs. Or kissing. Or even holding hands. He did hot, quick and dirty and that was it. Ian was never that type of guy, they'd had that conversation many times before. How much Ian had wanted more and Mickey had made him leave every single time. Mickey's head snapped up at his words and they were staring into each other's eyes again.

"What do you even see in that fucking loser, anyway?"

Ian finally set the magazine down in a harsh gesture. He couldn't have this conversation sitting down, so he stood and began walking towards the coolers to do a random, not at all time yet, inventory check. He'd fidget and give this all away. Mickey knew him too well for this, as weird as that sounds. They get each other. They'd actually become pretty decent friends over the course of their arrangement. Mickey knew it was becoming not enough for Ian though. He could tell in his eyes every time they were putting clothes on. He could practically see the words 'kiss me' going through Ian's head when it was time for him to leave.

He never did.

Mickey walked towards them as well and stepped right in front of Ian so he had to look at him again. He didn't want him to be able to run from talking about this. Which was foreign for Mickey to be on that end of things.

"Fuck. I don't know, Mick. He's nice to me. He takes me out. He buys me things that make him think of me, he doesn't leave directly after sex," he trailed off, "He isn't afraid to kiss me."

And there it is. The words he knew had been coming, but wished they wouldn't. The sharp stab of something resembling guilt crept up his body and into his chest.

Mickey didn't respond for a long time. They let the words settle in the air but their eye contact never dissipated.

"So, what? You're looking for prince charming, Red?" Mickey snorted but the sound of his voice surprised even himself. He sounded agitated, but he also sounded sad. That wasn't good. That was weak, and now Ian's heard it.

"No, Mick. I'm not looking for a prince. I'm looking for someone who wants me. Not my dick."

And there goes Mickey's heart breaking again.

__

Mickey was laying on his couch watching the clock. Seven was coming up soon, and he just couldn't sit here and let Ian go on a fourth date, he'd decided. Sure, the knowledge that Ian had fucked this dickhead already was fucking with his mind, but it was Mickey's own issues that had them able to see other people. He knew this was his fault. He knew he had to fix it.

He knew Ian felt something for him. He could see it in the way the younger boy looked at him. His eyes lit up, his smile was almost permanent. He was a little fidgety every time, almost like he was nervous. Sometimes, he looked like he wanted to reach out and touch, but knew that he risked a punch to his face. Mickey could throw up at the thought of Ian seeing him in that light.

He shrugged on his jacket to fight off the biting cold of Chicago and his shoes at exactly 6:45. It would take him seven minutes to get there, but he wanted to make sure he was there before Ian was. Before Mr. Leather Jacket and Skinny Jeans showed up with his redhead on his arm. Mickey knew how this was going to go, and he felt almost bad for the dude with Ian. Almost.

When they walked in the door, the first thing he noticed was that Ian looked gorgeous. Light wash jeans that hugged his legs perfectly and a long sleeve gray shirt that brought out his pretty eyes. Mickey knew it brought out his eyes from so far away, because he's seen the shirt on him before. He'd been fucked the night he'd seen Ian wearing wearing that shirt, he thought smugly. The second thing he noticed was the other man's arm around Ian's waist. First pang of anger. The last thing he noticed, and quite possibly the reason things went down the way they did, is seeing Ian's arm around his shoulder and squeezing his bicep. Oh, fuck no, he thought to himself as he stood up from the table they'd put him at.

He ordered food and drinks just to not waste his waitresses time, or get kicked out, but that all was left behind with money and as much a tip as he could afford as the jealous Mickey trudged his way towards the 'happy couple'. Ian didn't look as happy with whatever this dudes name is as he did with Mickey. No gleam in his eye. Maybe that was his brain telling him that, but either way. Ians mouth dropped open as Mickey stood there.

"Ian. Can we talk." Mickey asked. He made it a point not to make any eye contact with the man Ian was out with. He would've knocked him the fuck out on the spot and he knew it. He wasn't worried about jail, honestly, because in Southside you don't call police for fights. You handle it yourself.

"No. I'm with Ryan." Ian shrugged and went to move past him. Mickey grabbed his arm.

"Ian-" Ryan, how fitting for the douchiest looking guy in the world, lifted his hand up to speak but Ian was grabbing it and yanking it down. He knew Mickey all too well to let him do something like that and piss Mickey off.

"Got something to say, Bryan?" He asked as he took a step closer to the man so they were toe to toe, "Because I'd change my mind if I were you."

Ian rubbed his hands over his face as Ryan got into Mickeys face as well. "My boyfriend here said no, so back the fuck off." Mickey looked like he'd been slapped, but it switched to fury so fast Ian couldn't believe it.

"He's not my boyfriend, Mick. Calm the fuck down." Ian said quickly to keep him from swinging and to really let him know that Ian hasn't moved on. He hasn't. Mickey didn't even look at him. The anger on his face was only getting worse. "Mickey." He'd tried again and grabbed Mickey's hand. He yanked it away and balled it up. Oh fuck, Oh God, Ian thought, he's about to hit Ryan.

He was right. Mickey reared back and shot his fist forward into Ryan's eye with practiced ease and watched him collapse onto the ground. He jumped on top of him and got one more hit in, maybe two before familiar hands wrapped around his middle and yanked him up with a force he couldn't fight against. "Mick, let's fucking go," he'd yelled as Mickey attempted to fight against him once he saw the man wasn't out for the count. In fact, he was already getting up.

"You fucking dick!" Ryan screamed loudly as Ian hauled Mickeys feet off of the floor and out of the diner with one arm around his waist. It would've turned him on if he wasn't so fucking angry. Next thing he knew, his back was against the wall down an alley and Ian's arms were by his head, caging him in.

"Fuck you," Ian spat in his face, but Mickey grinned. There was that gleam in his boys eyes that he noticed only came around when he was looking directly at Mickey. He'd watched him interact with Mandy. It wasn't there then. It sure as hell wasn't there when he was wrapped around Ryan. That was reserved for him. "Why the fuck are you even here? You plan on hitting everyone I fucking date now?" He was hurt. He was angry. He was confused. But something deep down inside of him was singing at the fact that Mickey came for him.

""I'm here because I don't want him to have you. I don't want anyone fucking having you!"

"The fuck? Even though you don't want me? You don't want me, but no one else can? Do you fucking see how fucked up that is? How fucked up I am over you and this whole 'i can't do relationships' bullshit, I can't keep-"

As nervous as Mickey was, he decided to speak then.

"Shut up," Mickey cut him off with a soft shaky inhale, his eyes searching Ian's for anything that could give away what he was feeling. Anger, at the moment. But that gleam was still there.

"Mickey, honestly fuck you!" He'd snapped again but now Mickeys hand was on the back of his head and he was pulling him in.

He rested their foreheads together. "Shut up and fucking kiss me,"

"Fuck," was all he heard Ian say before Mickey was pushing up on his tip toes a little to kiss him. When lips touched, Mickey could've fucking died right then. The overwhelming feeling of butterflies erupted in his stomach, which is so fucking gay but an accurate description and he suddenly couldn't breathe though his nose correctly. Ian deepened the kiss almost as soon as they began. No one would be able to blame him, he'd wanted to do this for almost five months now. He even thought about kissing him while Mickey was in juvie. It's really sad how much time he spent dreaming of lips he'd never touched before. Ian's mind was spinning. This was better than he could've ever imagined it being. His body was tingling, his hands were a little shaky. Now that he'd had this, he couldn't ever go without it. He was sure of that much.

Ian had his arms pinned against the wall now as he controlled the motions, dominating the kiss just like he did everything else in the bedroom. Ian kissed a lot like he fucked. Determined, wet, delicious. That one track mind determination of making Mickey jelly in his hands. Of making his boy come apart and feel so good. Mickey whined high in his throat into the kiss which isn't what he'd expected to do, but he couldn't help how much Ian turned him on. Especially when he was kissing him like he'd just come home from war.

Their kiss was disrupted by a loud scoff from behind them, and Ian moved away barely to see who had done it. Ryan, icing a black eye and with toilet paper sticking out of his nose, was watching them from the entry of the alley. He'd come looking for Ian to make sure he was alright. Apparently, he was more than alright. "Fuck this shit. You were a good fuck, but apparently that's all you're good for." He'd called to Ian, and Mickey's post kiss bliss was cut like a knife. He tried to push off of the wall, to get to that bastard but Ian had anticipated that without even having to look at him. He squeezed his wrists gently and kept him pressed against the wall by his hands. Ian turned his head back to face the boy he loved so much, and Mickey saw that he wasn't affected by what Ryan had said. No, he was more entranced by Mickey and everything that kiss had meant to him. It melted Mickey just a little, he wouldn't lie. Mickey relaxed a little bit but still, he wanted to kill that guy.

"Fuck you!" Mickey had yelled to the man he'd beaten up not even six minutes prior, "I'll fucking kill you!"

"Shh," Ian had whispered to him, "Ignore him, yeah?"

"Can I just go fuck him up a little? Come on, he's right there!" Mickey tried to pull away again but Ian turned his face.

"Eyes on me."

Mickey had heard that come out of Ian's mouth before, but they definitely had a lot less clothes and a lot more things stuffed inside of Mickey. Mickeys eyes shot to his and he melted a little. When he did, Ian's eyes were blown out a little with lust. He was thinking the same thing Mickey was. About the last time he'd said those words.

"Oh, you wanna fuck now, huh, firecrotch?" Mickey laughed. He'd know that look on Ian's face from anywhere, but this time held something a little different. Mickey couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe hope. Mickey could share that sentiment.

Ian grabbed his face and laughed,

"Shut up and kiss me."

That night was far, far from over.

__

Lmk if you want a part two!

[mamsieur]

Ink and Smoke I Robert "Bob" Floyd x Reader

Summary : Reuben's wife wants to play matchmakers with Bob. It usually fails until the whole squad has a tattoo appointment.

TW : none, full fluff, hyper self indulgent

Length : 3664 words

AN : maybe it's kind of a self insert fic because of the whole "reader is a tattooed girly" and maybe the bee tattoo is the one I have. Maybe.

posted on AO3 November 8, 2023

A few months had passed since the uranium mission and the squadron was settled to San Diego for good, and Bob had never been happier. He finally had everything and everyone he needed in one place. The squad was a new family for him, he grew close to each of them, even Jake.

Work was easier now that he was permanently stationed here, and he was glad that the squadron was a permanent unit as well ; they were always working together and getting missions as a special task force. He was able to teach new graduates with Phoenix, and he enjoyed being an instructor. 

Life was good. His little found family fell into an easy routine of Sunday brunches at each other's houses, days off at the beach playing dogfight football, evenings at the Hard Deck. Each of them got to meet the family of the others ; mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, partners… Reuben was the first to introduce his wife, Josie, to the squadron and everyone loved her. They were expecting their first child and Mickey had appointed himself as godfather (not that Reuben had anything against it, but he had to talk it over with his wife). Josie had some sort of maternal aura that made them so comfortable, much like Penny ; even Bradley opened up to her about his past, and Jake always seemed to calm down when the pregnant woman gave him the "mommy" look.

As for his own love life, Bob’s friends had tried so many times to set him up on dates, and each time it had failed. The girls he was set up with had nothing to do with it for the most part ; Bob was sure they were great people, but they were always too much for him. He was a discreet and somewhat shy type of guy, he wasn't really comfortable with their extroverted behavior. And it wasn't like he was actively looking for a relationship; he liked being single most of the time. He had his ways, his habits, his comfort zone, and he wasn't in any hurry to leave it. His life was perfect as he saw it. But he couldn't deny that sometimes he felt lonely. He felt that way when he couldn't go home to his family, when he was on leave from work, or when he was asked to write his marital status on some paperwork. He felt that way when he listened to Natasha talk about her dates with her pretty hairdresser and how everything was going smoothly. He felt that way when he saw the girls at the bar only looking at Bradley, Javy, Jake or Mickey; he was right there but invisible. He felt that way when he was the last of his siblings and cousins to be single; his younger brother even got married this year. He felt that way when his father seemed to have to remind him that his last relationship was from before he left for naval school, and when his mother whined about her baby being all alone in San Diego.

Other than that, Bob didn't feel lonely. Not too much.

When he arrived at the Hard Deck after another failed date, Josie sighed with a confused pout.

"Why didn't it work out this time, Bobby?"

He shrugged as he sat between her and Natasha on the stool across from the pool table where Jake and Bradley were playing. "She's just passing through San Diego and she... I don't know, she talked a lot about herself, I didn't have time to get a word in. And when I did, she didn't seem too interested in what I had to say."

"Yickes," Natasha grimaced, "you did well to leave that date early."

"Oh, well, in fact, I didn't... She actually was the one who cut it short, she had to meet a friend apparently. Not that I'm complaining," he smiled slightly at the girls, and Reuben’s wife rolled her eyes before finishing her ginger ale, rubbing her round belly.

"I give up, Bob. You'll find someone eventually, but I'm done trying to set you up. I hate seeing you like this."

"Like what?" he frowned a little, not understanding.

"Like a puppy that's been thrown out," Reuben said as he kissed his wife's temple, joining their conversation. She rolled her eyes, half amused. "That's the idea. You always look so disappointed and sad after these dates. And I know it makes you question your self-worth, and I don't want that. So we won't set you up anymore, consider this my early birthday present to you," she smiled. 

"Finally - Ouch!" he chuckled, stroking his side where Josie had elbowed him. She sighed with a smile and they moved on to more casual conversation. It was another casual night, and Bob was loving it. The brunette was right, he'll find someone eventually, why force fate?

As the night went on, one particular topic was brought back to the table; their matching tattoo project. The seven of them still hadn't decided what to get, but Reuben had already made an appointment with a tattoo artist that he and Josie had been to a few times; she had four tattoos, and three of them were by that artist. It was fine line, discreet; that style was perfect for the squad. 

"So, except for Reuben, this will be everyone's first tattoo?" Mickey asked, reading everyone's ideas again on Javy's phone. They all nodded and Natasha scoffed.

"Robert Floyd, stop lying to us! You have a tattoo!"

Bob blushed under the curious gaze of his friends, and if his eyes could throw knives, Phoenix would be dead.

"Come to think of it, we've never seen him without a shirt on," Mickey remarked, narrowing his eyes. The other boys agreed and Jake grinned.

"What kind of embarrassing ink you got Baby on board?"

"If it's the name of an ex-girlfriend, I swear we'll ask for the whole story!" Javy insisted. Everyone tried to guess, making Bob more and more embarrassed and Natasha smirked, proud of her. She saw his tattoo once, after a water fight. 

"Come on Robby, show them, it's not that bad..." she encouraged him, gently squeezing his forearm. The blond man pouted and sighed, pulling out his phone to find photos. He showed the screen to his friends when he found the picture he was looking for. The tattoo was on his ribs and it was a quote with a carnation flower underneath. Mickey couldn't help but gasp in surprise as he read the quote, his eyes shining with admiration, "Is that a Star Wars reference?"

"It is..." Bob muttered, "And my older cousin has the other half of the quote."

He swiped and showed them a picture of their tattoos side by side; his cousin’s said "Do or do not." with the flower above it, and Bob’s one said "There is no try."

"Nerd," Jake snorted, earning a nudge from Reuben.

"In our defense, we were barely eighteen when we made them, just before I went to naval school," he shrugged.

"I think it's cute," Josie smiled and Bradley hummed in agreement, siping his beer. 

"How come you never told me you were Star Wars fans?" Mickey accused, "What do you think of the series? Without the last three movies, of course. They don't exist," and he chatted with Bob for a good half hour. 

Bradley cleared his throat to stop the rumbling, "Can we get back to the tattoo topic? We have less than fifteen hours to decide".

After some discussion and a few scribbles of their ideas on some napkins, they settled on three designs that the tattoo artist would be able to work with.

Bob carefully saved the napkins, and one by one the group went home. He decided to take a walk on the beach before he left. 

He liked the silence, broken only by the gentle sounds of the waves and the wind. His week had been exhausting and quite stressful, and being here soothed him. The moonlight guided his steps home. As he made his way to his little house, he lit a cigarette. He was not much of a smoker, but every now and then it helped calm his nerves. Truth to be told, he was a little nervous to get tattooed. He wasn’t a big fan of needles. He just hoped that the final design would be simple enough so he didn’t have to stay too long under the hands and tools of the tattoo artist.

The next day, after a nice lunch together, the group finally went to the tattoo parlor. Josie was with them, even more excited than they were. They walked in, making the little bell above the door ring. Soft rock was playing at a low volume, and some of the artist's work was hanging on the walls. 

Bob looked around curiously. This parlor was nothing like the one he'd been in with his cousin almost twelve years before. Here, the large windows let in daylight, and the reception and waiting areas were beautifully decorated with green plants (though Bob suspected they were fake). On the coffee table across from the couches was a binder containing the flashes that were still available. And on the walls were photos of several finished tattoos and some awards the artist seemed to have won at conventions around the country. The whole atmosphere was comfortable and reassuring. 

"I'll be there in two seconds!"  your voice came from the back of the room. 

The curtain at the back of the shop opened and you stepped out, dusting your hands. Your arms were covered with tattoos of all kinds; some colored, some not. Bob watched you for a moment, impressed by the number of tattoos you had. His eye fell on the one under and on your collarbones; two daffodils with a bee in the middle. He found it gorgeous.

He was jolted out of his contemplation when Josie threw herself in your arms.

"Bee! It's so good to see you!"

"Hello to you too, Jo’ !" you chuckled, returning her hug, "I assume this is the famous Dagger Squad you've been talking about."

You gave them your real name with a smile and shook hands with everyone, "You can call me Bee though, it doesn't bother me!". Your eyes locked with Bob's for a few seconds and he thought he saw you blushing a little. But maybe he had hallucinated.

You offered them some tea or coffee while grabbing your sketchbook and pen. "Okay, so what were your ideas? Jo’ and Reuben here told me you had quite a few," you asked with a smile, and the group began to explain what they had in mind. Bob, sitting in front of you, wasn't listening. He was mesmerized ; you had such a sweet voice and a warm, inviting aura. Your eyes shone with interest behind your glasses as you took notes on what Bob's friends were saying. Your soft smile sent butterflies to his stomach, and he felt his cheeks and the tips of his ears blush whenever he made eye contact with you. 

He was drawn out of his contemplation by Bradley, who nudged him discreetly. You had asked him something, but he didn't seem to have heard.

"Sorry, what?"

"Your friends said you had some papers with your ideas. May I see them?" you chuckled with a sweet smile.

"Oh... Oh! The napkins, yes!" he mumbled and took them out of his pocket. He displayed them on the coffee table in front of you. He blushed as your fingers brushed over his, and Josie and Natasha noticed. They looked at each other and wiggled their eyebrows. An idea had blossomed in their minds��

***

A few sketches later, you had a design that everyone in the group loved. It was simple enough that you could make the seven of them that afternoon. While you were getting everything ready, the Daggers argued about who would go after Reuben, who volunteered to go first. But Bob seemed a little lost and couldn't say anything. Josie sighed and intervened, hands on hips, like a mother scolding her children.

"Okay, everybody, calm down. Jake will go second, Mickey third and then Javy."

"But why?" Jake gasped and Mickey pouted.

"Because you three are too afraid, I can feel it. Look at it this way: the sooner you get it done, the sooner it's over."

"Good thinking..." Javy muttered.

"Thank you. Then Natasha, Bradley, and finally Bob. As soon as you're done, go to the little store next door and get yourself a snack, okay?"

The five nodded like children, but Natasha had a little mischievous smile on her lips that matched Josie's. But the boys, except for Reuben, didn't seem to notice. The latter gave his wife a knowing look and shook his head with a smile when she just shrugged.

Bob wasn't sure what to do. He looked at you a few times as you finished cleaning Reuben’s finished tattoo. You laughed with him and Bob blushed. He'd never seen anyone laugh so beautifully. His heart raced a little, but he couldn't take his eyes off you. You were mesmerizing, a work of art. 

"... Bob?"

"Huh?" he hummed, still lost in contemplation.

"Bobby, stop staring, you're not discreet," Josie giggled and Bob blushed wildly. He looked around and to his relief the others didn't seem to be paying too much attention to him. "You know, Bee is single... you should ask her out. You're totally her type."

"Am I?" he mumbled, blushing as Nat and Josie giggled, "I-I mean, I, uh… she’s-" Bob stuttered. He was busted. Natasha wrapped her arm around his and looked at you.

"From what Josie and Reuben have told me, Bee is really sweet," she said.

"She loves sci-fi, has two cats, builds Legos, and she absolutely loves quiet walks on the beach, just like you," Josie informed him with a smile, and Bob's cheeks turned even redder. He watched as you reassured Jake and explained how the machine worked. Your smile definitely made Bob's heart flutter. He wanted it to be directed at him. Not at Jake who was certainly flirting with you… although you didn’t seem that affected by it.

"She's a great girl, Bobby, and yes, I said I'd stop to set you up, but this isn't technically a date. It's up to you if you want to ask her out," Josie argued and he nodded, playing nervously with his fingers.

"I... I'll try?" he murmured, clearly worried about the situation, "but what if you're wrong and I'm not her type? Or what if I make it all awkward? or what if-"

"Calm down Floyd, it'll be fine! She won't reject you like that. Look at her, she's too nice for that. You have the whole afternoon to relax and just be yourself with her. We'll keep the others out," Natasha smiled as she gave him a friendly nudge. He sighed and nodded, trying to keep his composure. But then he frowned and turned to the two women beside him. "That's why you wanted me to go last?"

They just chuckled and shrugged. Bob sighed again and shook his head, "You two are a menace," he groaned.

As the afternoon wore on, Bob had to go out twice to catch his breath. He tried not to smoke right now, but the urge got stronger as his turn to get tattooed approached. He watched you laugh with Bradley as you tattooed him on the inside of his bicep. Then Bradley pointed at Bob and said something to you. You smiled a little and waved to him. He blushed so hard he thought his whole face was on fire. He shyly waved back and thought he saw you blush again. But you quickly turned your attention back to Bradley.

Bob's heart was pounding, he was filling up like a 10-year-old facing his first crush. 

And finally it was his turn. Josie and Natasha managed to get everyone out by pretending to go shopping for dinner - which wasn't exactly a lie. Bob was worriedly silent as you cleaned your station. You turned to him and smiled. 

"Would you like something to drink while I finish preparing the area? I have some ginger ale, Reuben told me you usually like it?"

Bob just nodded, speechless. How can you be so thoughtful? 

He thanked you as you handed him the glass and watched you print the last stencil.

"Nervous?" you asked, tilting your head to meet his gaze, "Where do you want it?"

"Y-Yeah, a little bit," he swallowed and scratched his neck nervously, "I, uh... maybe here?" he gestured to his ribs, the side that had no tattoos.

"Josie told me you already had a tattoo, right? Do you want them mirrored, like symmetrical?" you asked as he took off his shirt. You blushed. This man was really, really beautiful. His friends were too, you'd seen Jake and Mickey shirtless, but Bob... Bob had this charming boyish face and a body that you could see yourself curling up against in your bed for a cuddle in rainy weather. He had that old American charm with his wire-rimmed glasses, that little curl of hair that fell perfectly on his forehead, and that shy smile. You wanted him to take you out on a date anywhere he wanted and listen to his surprisingly raspy voice talk about absolutely anything... but you had to be professional.

"Yes," he replied, "I think it could be quite harmonious..."

"I think so too," you smiled at him and prepared his skin before placing the stencil. You let him check to see if he liked the placement. He turned to you and his crooked smile made you feel all warm inside. He was absolutely adorable.

"I love it," he said, excited like a little boy on Christmas Eve, "it looks amazing!"

"Well, let's get to work then, Lieutenant!" you chuckled and let him lie down. You put on your gloves and turned on the machine. You saw him take a deep breath and exhale slowly; surely to calm his nerves. "Ready?" you asked quietly and he nodded.

He didn't flinch or move once during the session. You saw him grimace from time to time, but he was perfectly still. You tried to talk to him to ease the process without pushing him too hard, and to your own surprise, he was quite talkative. The two of you debated which was the best Lego set you owned - it was obviously the Millenium Falcon. He really made you laugh when he explained how Bradley accidentally broke his glasses and how Josie scolded them for being reckless while playing soccer on the beach. And you both agreed that Reuben and Josie would make great parents. He walked you outside when you said you needed a smoke break.

"I don't smoke that much, I'm trying to quit," you shrugged, "but some days are harder than others."

"Yeah, I get it, I'm not a heavy smoker either, but it helps... relax, I guess," he said, lighting your cigarette and then his. You smiled and agreed. In the distance, the sun was slowly setting, casting orange and pink hues in the sky. Bob blew his smoke slowly through his nose and sighed.

"I love sunsets," he said, "it's always a different color show..."

"I'm sure it's nicer when you're actually in the sky, isn't it?"

"Oh yes it is!" he replied excitedly, "Sometimes with the clouds it's like being surrounded by cotton candy. It's so pretty, but it makes me hungry." 

You laughed and his smile grew wider.

"So you have a sweet tooth?"

"The worst," he sighed with a soft grin, "I think I might be addicted to sugar. I mean, we all are a little, but sweet things are my weakness."

The way he looked at you when he said that made you blush furiously. And he blushed too, surprised at his own behavior. But you didn't seem bothered, so he wasn't embarrassed. You bit your lip and sighed with a smile before looking back at him.

"So if I asked you to come with me to the fair and eat our body weight in candy and cake on Sunday, would you agree?"

"Yes," he blushed, surprised at his own eagerness to accept your proposition. He chuckled and nodded, "I would gladly agree."

"It's a date then..." you smiled and exchanged numbers. Then you resumed your conversation about whatever was on your minds. Bob had never felt so comfortable with anyone, and neither had you. Unfortunately, the rest of the Daggers made their way back to your shop to pay you for the tattoos and take some pictures of them. They were all happy with the results and Mickey promised to come back for more. Bob couldn't stop smiling and looking at you as if you were holding the stars, and neither could you. You said goodbye to everyone, hugged Reuben and Josie - asking their growing baby in her belly to behave - and kissed Bob on the cheek when he last existed. You had to stand on tiptoe to do it, which he found adorable.

"See you Sunday, Bob," you almost whispered.

"Gladly Bee, can't wait," he smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You waved him goodbye and he felt all light and happy on his way to his car.

The rest of the group was completely forgotten, but they were watching from a distance. They were surprised and so lost by what they had just witnessed, except for Nat and Josie who were really proud of their part in it. They discreetly high-fived and giggled.

"What did you do?" Reuben finally asked his wife, curious.

"Me? Nothing," she smiled at him before looking at Bob, who didn't stop smiling. She took her husband's hand on the way to their car and chuckled, "I just encouraged fate."

[37sommz-archive]

✼. THRU SPACE 'N TIME | MOTORSPORT.

NOW PLAYING: triple header recap [ig, twt]. ✼. view:⠀masterlist⠀⸻⠀join the taglist⠀⸻⠀request. ✼. note:⠀lewis win!!

✹.⠀formula 1 just posted .ᐟ⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton, and 1,927,283 others

@ f1⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀no place like home! lewis hamilton takes his ninth win at silversotne, breaking the record for the most wins at a single circuit!

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username1 crying as we speak, such a good race!

username2 love how happy michaela was for him, true sportsmanship at its finest.

username3 very true! such a class act from sommers 👏

username4 delulus for lewlew manifested this 🙏

misomms yabadaboo!! 👑

georgerussell63 indeed 👏👏👏 username5 nurse, they're out again

⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

✹.⠀michaela sommers just posted .ᐟ⠀⠀. . .⠀⠀

liked by danielriccardo, travis_sommers, and 827,801 others

@ misomms⠀⠀⸻⠀⠀incredible end to this triple header run. massive thanks to the team for sticking it through with me. from a disappointing fall from pole in austria to podium in silverstone, i couldn't dream of a more dramatic three weeks. lovely to spend it with you all. making huge gains and a whole lot of progress! ~ see you all in hungary.

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astonmartinf1 wonderful effort mickey, the team thanks you too 💚

alexandrasaintmleux can we hear some commotion for the dress?!

cocosommers whooo 😍😍😍 misomms you have the best taste >>>> 🥰 francisca.cgomes i think i speak for the people when i say more dresses in the paddock!! <3333

username5 michaela slowly collecting the wags one by one

username6 daniel started making moves on her sister and she said ENOUGH

travis_sommers p8 - p5 - p3, amazing as always mickey 🤘

guidomarottaofficial 🤙👍 username7 JUST KISS ALREADY PLS THE TENSION username8 cryingggg girl what 😭

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@emilyval1 @scarlettwidow3000 @anotherblackreader

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@melancholyy-hill

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

An Unwelcomed Conversation

Sequel to the drabble where Iggy finds Mickey and Ian sleeping/cuddling

---

When Mickey wakes up, it’s evening. The room is darker than it was when he laid down. 

He blinks his bleary eyes, feels something firm under his cheek and remembers that he’s on top of Ian. His face flushes even though there’s no one there to see it. 

Ian’s still holding onto him too. His grip is looser now that he’s asleep but it’s still keeping him in place. 

It’s so fucking gay but it’s also warm and fucking relaxing so he doesn’t immediately move off of his boyfriend. Mickey closes his eyes, breathes out through his nose and lets himself bask in whatever the hell this is. 

It doesn’t last much longer. Ian stirs; he groans softly, kisses Mickey’s hair, tightening his hold on him. “Hey,” he mutters, his voice deeper from sleep. “What time is it?” 

“Don’t know. It’s dark.” 

“We should get up,” Ian mumbles. 

“Think again, Firecrotch. I’m fucking comfortable.” 

“I’m hungry, Mick.” 

“Boo fucking hoo. Ain’t like there’s anything in this shithole to eat,” Mickey yawns, turning his head to do it in Ian’s chest. 

“I’ll buy pizza,” Ian negotiates. It’s unfortunate timing that Mickey’s stomach growls. 

“Fuckin’ fine,” he knows he’s gone fucking soft which he blames all on Gallagher. Ain’t no other explanation why he wants to keep laying there. Now that he’s a little more awake, his ears catch onto some noise outside of their bedroom.“Fuck. The shitheads are back now. Don’t go buyin’ for them too. They don’t deserve any.” 

“They’re probably hungry too,” Ian yawns. 

“So fucking what? Let ‘em fend for themselves.” 

Ian swats him on the ass. “No.”

Mickey grumbles as he lifts himself off his ginger asshole. Ian stretches his arms on their way out. His brothers and Mandy are out in the living room, they’ve got beers in their hands and probably talking about something fucking stupid. “Ay.” 

He’s immediately suspicious by the smirks sent his way. 

“Hey,” Mandy goes for nonchalance, and brings her bottle up to her lips. 

Ian, of course, is none the wiser. “Hey, guys,” he chirps like a damn bird. “You want pizza?”

“Fuck yes,” Iggy agrees. 

“I want one just for me, Gallagher,” Colin instructs. “I ain’t sharing with these losers.” 

Mandy shoots him a dirty look. “Jesus, Col. Don’t be so fucking rude. Ian’s not fucking rich.” 

“Fuck off. He asked.” 

Mickey doesn't let the discussion of pizza distract him. He knows something’s up. And he's gonna find out what it is. But for now, he shoves his sister’s legs outta the way so he and Ian can sit down on the damn couch. “Move, bitch.” 

“Ugh- fuck off, Mickey!” Mandy scoots to the end, glaring. 

Ian joins him, phone in hand so he can order. He’s got one hand on Mickey’s knee, rubbing circles on the skin. 

It’s quiet, but he knows it won’t last long. He’s proven right when Iggy speaks up, his voice sly and it sends Mickey on alert. “The fuck were you doin’ in there so long, huh?” 

“None of your damn business,” Mickey answers instantly. 

Iggy and Colin share a smirk. 

“You sure about that?” His second oldest brother asks. It’s too casual to be genuine. 

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He’s not getting any answers and it’s starting to piss him off. 

“It means Ig caught you doin’ some homo shit,” Colin slouches some more in the chair. He’s got a devilish grin on his face and it makes Mickey want to punch it right off him. 

“What?” Mickey barks. 

“Mickey...” Ian says cautiously, like he’s prepared to grab him to hold him back. 

“You wanna see?” Iggy pulls up the picture on his phone to show it off. Mickey thinks he’s about to see one of their bare asses or some shit. He doesn’t expect it to be from today when he was in Ian’s arms. 

His face burns like it’s on fucking fire. Why the fuck does he even have a picture of them? 

Ian leans forward to get a better look at it. “Can you send that to me?”

“Since fucking when do you have my brother’s number?” Mickey says in disbelief. 

His boyfriend shrugs. “I have Colin and Mandy’s too.”

“Sounds like Gallagher’s about to have a new wallpaper,” Colin comments. 

“Damn right,” Ian says. 

In the midst of all this, Mandy complains to Ian, “You’ve never cuddled with me like that.” 

“I would, but your brother’s a jealous asshole,” Ian says, feigning mournfulness. 

Mickey ignores the fuckin’ idiots, shoving the phone out of Iggy’s hand because the bastard is still holding it up. 

“Ay!” His brother says loudly when it falls to the floor. 

“Go fuck yourself and delete the damn picture.” 

“Too late,” Colin drawls. “He already sent it to me.” 

“And me,” Mandy says. 

“You Motherfucker!” Mickey nearly leaps at Iggy but Ian’s fast and he’s too damn strong for him to escape. 

His brothers are unimpressed and quite frankly, unbothered. Iggy just leans back in his chair, grinning slyly. 

“Didn’t know you liked being held like that, Mick.” 

“I don’t-” Mickey blusters. 

“Cut the shit, assface,” Mandy snorts. “You’re not fooling anybody.”

 He gets ready to raise hell because so fucking what if he liked it? That doesn’t make him some bitch. 

“Is Mick clingy?” Colin asks Ian. Nosy ass. 

“Didn’t you see the way he was laying on him?” Mandy interjects. “He’s definitely clingy. I don’t know how Ian stands it.” 

“I don’t mind,” Ian says. Mickey doesn’t even have to look at him to know that he’s got that sappy look to him. He’s used to it and for the most part, stopped rolling his eyes when he sees it. 

“Course you don’t,” Colin mutters. “You’ve got a hardon for him.” 

“Guess we know who’s taking it up the ass,” Iggy teases. 

“You’re not wrong,” Ian pipes up, and Mickey’s head whirls around so fast like he’s some fucking haunted doll head. He doesn’t know who he’s gonna kill first but somehow, someway, somebody is gonna fucking die. 

“Go to hell, all of ya!”

“Sounds like somebody needs a hug,” Mandy takes advantage of the fact that he can’t move like he wants to, and slaps the back of his head. 

“Ay, yeah. Go hug him, Gallagher,” Iggy calls.

Mickey really shoulda kept Ian and his brothers apart. Nothing good came from all three of them plus Mandy ganging up on him. 

Ian grins, gives him a noisy kiss on the cheek despite Mickey’s scowl. “Do you need a hug, baby?” 

“I’m gonna fucking murder you,” Mickey whispers through grit teeth. 

“That’s his way of saying I love you,” Ian announces. 

“Damn,” Iggy’s gotta be high. Than again, there’s not many times he isn’t. He looks surprised like he believes this shit. “He must really love us.” 

Dumbass. 

“Not as much as Gallagher,” Colin says with a sneer. It’s unlike the kind of look Mickey assumes he would've gotten from his brother after the fag bashing he received from Terry. It’s playful and probably woulda meant more to Mickey if he wasn’t pissed. 

“Of course not,” Ian’s proud of that, of course. 

“You two make me sick,” Mandy sighs. She crosses her legs. “I think we should send that picture to Sandy. She’ll get a kick out of it.” 

“No!” Mickey snaps just as their brothers agree. 

“Who’s Sandy?” Ian asks. 

“Our cousin. She’s a lesbian so she won’t care,” Mandy shrugs. 

“Can you all just shut the fuck up?” Mickey feels his face flushing again and it’s really starting to get fucking annoying. 

“What’s wrong, Mick? Don’t want us to talk about you cuddlin’ anymore?” Colin snickers. 

“What else does Gallagher do for ya?” Iggy says. “Does he give you his jacket when you get cold?” 

“Has he ever swept you off your feet?” Mandy smirks. “Literally?” 

The questions are coming rapidly. Mickey’s torn between anger and embarrassment. Ian doesn’t even try to stop them. He’s enjoying it, the fucker. 

“That’s it,” Mickey shoves Ian’s arms away and stands. “I ain’t listening to anymore of you fuckers. So fucking what if that’s what we were doing? Not like any of you are getting anything so shut the fuck up and leave me the hell alone.” 

His outburst quiet's them. But then Iggy opens his damn mouth again. 

“Ay, Mick. I forgot to ask earlier. You got any smokes I can use?” 

“No I don’t have fucking smokes!” Mickey bellows, turning on his heel and slams his bedroom door shut. 

“....Guess you didn’t cuddle him enough,” Iggy says to Ian. 

[2knightt]

「 you the cutest jailbird i ever did see!」

IN WHICH—you’re literally mickey milkovich!♡ ໋֢ 👒✧

🍵ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 👒 notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ this is platonic. and if you haven’t seen shameless just imagine a modern, stinky dallas. also MARRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS!!!

you met them while running from the cops. sure—it was completely your fault and you do deserve to be thrown into the cooler. but you just got out! can’t a person want just a few more minutes of peace?

as soon as you heard those sirens, you jumped off the guys you and your cousins were jumping and just started running. those two idiots already got caught, you just kept on running.

you heard that the curtis house doesn’t ever lock their door—stupid. you’d never do that, not when people like you run around this city!

the sirens got closer, and without thinking, you jumped their fence. as your feet touched the ground, you hoped to god that they weren’t home. or that dallas winston wasn’t there.

you rushed to the door, swinging in open before hiding beside their couch that sat in front of the window. peeking your head up, you watched as the cop car slowed down before speeding back off.

a grin grew on your face as you watched the cops go in the other direction.

“fuckin’ idiots.”

“wow, y/n getting chased by the cops. what is it, the 30th time this week?”

you’ve had unfortunate run-ins with dallas. but you thought his voice was more annoying now than when you and your cousins jumped him for trying to hit on your sister.

you’d recognize that disgusting new york accent from anywhere. you sighed, turning your head to face him as he stood above you, hands in his jean pockets.

dallas had a stupid grin on his face as who, you think is soda, comes rushing beside him. his eyes showed worry, but his grin made him look interested in you.

“shoot, what happened to you?”

“soda—this is y/n. what ain’t they done is a better question.”

you rolled your eyes, holding back from socking him in the jaw. you turned your head to face soda, standing up from your position. rubbing your neck, you hung your head low.

“tough shit, man. bunch of assholes—you know.”

suddenly, someone with cake smeared all over his fingers and who smelled like oil popped up out of nowhere. ‘steve’ was written on the chest of his ripped up work uniform.

“that can mean a lotta things. what kinda tough shit?”

‘jesus, the curtis group asks a lot of questions.’ you thought to yourself, a lip raised. dallas kicked the leg of the couch beside you, causing you to whip your head up after avoiding eye contact. sodapop smacked dallas’ shoulder, telling him off.

“answer ‘em, y/n.”

dallas demanded, saying your name is a singing tone.

“…me and my cousin’s has jumped a guy. it ain’t nothin’ bad like stabbing a kid with a blade.”

you mumbled, dusting yourself off, you heard snickers leave steve and soda’s throats. soda grinned, ear to ear as he ushered you to sit down at a table. as he did so—he kept on asking you a bunch of jumbled questions due to how fast he’s talking.

four boys sat there, staring at the situation that had just unfolded. they both looked younger than everyone else did, the two older ones standing out like sore thumbs. one was finishing his plate, the other one downing a bottle of beer.

soda sat you down, steve rushing behind the both of you. either of them sat beside you, smiles on their face.

“what’d the guy do?”

“did you beat ‘em black and blue?”

“what’d you use?”

with that, you found yourself hanging around the two of them more. sodapop and steve found your company fun. sure, you were like dallas, but different in so many ways.

you were so comforting to be around, yet you always had a scowl. they loved having you around, causing the gang to hang out with you too.

you honestly became a reoccurring person in the gang—to the point where people would ask where you were if you weren’t around them.

you’d just walk into the curtis house and make yourself comfortable. your house wasn’t exactly the definition of ‘ideal.’ the old man wasn’t the kindest to you, your sister—or anyone for that matter.

he’d frequently take his anger out on you and smack you ‘til you’re every colour under the sun after he heard you’d been foolin’ around with some chum around the block. it wasn’t even true—but your cries always fell to deaf ears when it came to that alcoholic.

it’s not like it was a secret either. every person on the east side could hear the arguing from your house—even the front door slam shut. that’s when the people would know you’d be huddled up on the curtis’ couch.

“y/n—breakfast.”

soda’d nudge you gently—talking in a hushed voice. the smell of bacon filled your nostrils, a sigh leaving your lips as it hit you that he was the one cooking. you aren’t exactly the biggest fan of his rather odd choices of how he makes his food.

but goddamnit you can fake it for him. if you can lie to the cops, you can lie to one of your greatest friends.

just like how you can lie to the investigators trying to find dallas winston.

“you know this kid?”

“never seen ‘em in my life. lay off now, assholes.”

you’d mumble, walking past them, making sure you hit their shoulders as hard as you could. you always got a kick out of hurting those pigs as you’d call ‘em.

which is what caused dallas winston goin’ MIA. you had seen dallas winston getting knocked down by the police after a long chase.

even though you can’t stand that new yorkian—you do love fighting. you tried to walk as quietly as you could up to them before making yourself known.

“hey, man!”

you shouted, causing their heads to turn. when they saw you—their eyes immediately flashed a look of hatred. they obviously knew who you were, and if they didn’t know, they’d know after you socked one in the jaw.

all attention on dallas turned to you—all of them going after you. until dallas also landed a clean hit on one. with the impact of the officer falling on the ground—your feet started moving on your own.

you cackled, hearing dallas laugh along with you, running beside you. the rush that washed over you two was indescribable—the adrenaline was great.

this isn’t the first time you’ve been on the run, and it’s not like you haven’t been caught. one time you got caught—your bail was low. but too high for you. you were offered one call and the first person that came to mind would surely rip off your head.

‘worth a shot,’ you thought to yourself, dialling the numbers with the phone to your ear, a cop hovering over you.

“hello?”

“darrel? it’s y/n.”

“goddammit, y/n. what the hell did you do this time?”

“nothin’! i-i just need you to come and bail me. it’s only 50 cents, darry.”

“you’re never gonna hear the end of it, you damned jail bird. i’ll be there soon.”

with that—you heard a click on the end of the line. you wanted to defend yourself, but hearing him call you a jail bird gave you more pride than you’ve felt in a long time.

of course, when he did bail you out, any feeling you had of pride evaporated. as soon as you entered the backseat, you could feel the rage from darry.

“what the hell did you do? it’s 11PM. ponyboy and soda’s in bed—and i was getting ready! 11PM, y/n!”

“holy fuck, darry! stop acting like i killed a guy! it was just a grab n’ run!”

“y/n—is it too hard to ask that you try to stay safe? just once, that’s all i ask!”

“oh my god, darry! you aren’t my fucking father!”

“guess what’s happening. you’re coming to my house and spending the nights there. the second i hear that you’re runnin’ from the cops i’m contesting against you in court!”

the rest of the ride was in silence, it being broken up by the occasional blinker. when he pulled onto the side of the road, parking his truck in front of the house, you sat there.

stubborn is what people thought of you—and you sure as hell were. darry got out, expecting you to follow. he stood in front of the gate, arms crossed as you stared off into space.

the door opened—darry quickly grabbing you. he carried you like a baby, against your very loud protests.

soda opened the door, snickering as he sees the situation you’re in. ponyboy was sitting on darrys chair, playing with the tab of a pepsi can. once he seen darry step in, you in arms, he shot up from where he sat.

“where were you? what happened?”

“yeah, jail bird. what happened?”

you heard the two younger brothers ask, one sounding more mocking than the other. darry placed you on the couch, swiftly throwing a blanket over you.

you’d been in this situation before, the memories flooding back to you as you felt yourself drift off into sleep.

expect you weren’t the one being carried. you had carried johnny from the lot, put him on your back. it was a few days after he’d been jumped real bad.

you were out of the loop when it came to who jumped who. you seen johnny asleep in the lot. dried blood on his jacket and face. bruises were everywhere on his body. you felt bad.

you always liked johnnycakes. he understood you in a way. as you carried him on your back—you could only thing of the similarities between you two.

you both had rough home lives, you both always found yourself trying to keep everything together. he used to be so tough but turned quiet—you had always been tough and never expected to change.

lost in your thoughts—you got to the curtis house faster than expected. you quietly walked up the stairs, opening the door, avoiding the creaky floorboards.

you placed johnny on the couch, taking a silent vow to beat whoever did this to him even worse.

and you always kept your word.

robert sheldon was the guy you and your cousins had tracked down, bats and other weapons in hand. if he can use those thick gold rings—you can use your bat. fair game, right?

you caught him, drunk on the streets, and stupidly alone. your cousins beat up ford slowed down beside him—making it a repeat of what he’d do to others.

he took notice—stumbling as he turned his head. your own small gang took notice to this, stopping the car before jumping out.

you guys had beaten him to the point where he looked just like johnny. you kept your word, and you wouldn’t let anyone ever touch johnny like that.

you always hated soc’s. you’d do anything to do annoy ‘em. even if it meant stealing their mustangs, you always liked them anyhow.

steve always talked about how he’d do anything to drive a tuff car like that. everytime he seen one, that’s all he talked about.

“imagine drivin’ a car like that. could you imagine how fast i could go?”

you’d learn how to hot wire at a young age, rarely ever did it though. but when you seen a wine coloured mustang left unattended—you knew you had an opportunity.

it wasn’t hard to get it going, and it wasn’t hard to drive it to the DX without getting caught. steve was working in the hood of an old car outside until he heard a honk.

a grin grew on his face as he seen you in the drivers sear of the car, a smug look on your face. steve practically skipped as he rushed towards the vehicle, tapping the hood as he took a closer look.

as he was nothing less than mesmerized—you hopped out of the car. steve looked up at you from his crouched position before you threw the keys at him, walking towards the passenger seat.

steve immediately put two and two together, jumping into the car without a second thought.

you swore you ain’t never seen steve so happy when he was speeding down the road in this mustang. he never asked where you got it—and you never told him.

you and ponyboy were alright. he didn’t like being around you for long periods of time. on the other hand—you absolutely loved it.

you could tease him until the sun went down for everything and anything.

“what the hell are you wearin’, pony?”

“a shirt?”

“sure as hell don’t look like one.”

you’d ruffle his greased up hair, going against his complains. you’d mock his books and movies, mimicking what they just said in a higher voice. ponyboy always disliked this. he didn’t hate it however. a small part of him knew that’s how you showed affection.

but he never knew you could be so gentle when you felt like it—that he really, really liked. one day, when school was out and everyone was doing their own thing, ponyboy sat at home.

he was reading a book with the tv as background noise. until you barged through the door, beelining for the fridge. you got a beer, closing the door. you took a sear in darry’s chair, watching TV.

ponyboy wondered if you noticed he was even home. when he seen you enter—he felt insecure. you were the definition of a greaser—he was…just some guy that so happened to have grease in his hair.

you realized he stopped reading, his eyes everywhere but his book. sighing, you got up and sat beside him on the couch. you took one more swig of the beer before you told him to read out loud.

“read to me.”

“wh-huh?”

“the TV’s borin’. read.”

with that, he did. the longer ponyboy read, the more relaxed he became. of course—you looked like you wanted to rip your own head off—but ponyboy did like the fact you immersed yourself into the story.

“she fucking what?”

“yeah! crazy, right?”

“crazy’s an understatement, man.”

‘crazy’ is what people would call you and two-bit. people would’ve never willingly put the two of you in a room, but you two got along swimmingly.

he was loud, sometimes clingy, and always joking around. you really needed someone like him in your life. a breath of fresh air—until the two of you would compete.

“let’s see who can steal the most stuff without gettin’ caught.”

was a sentence often said between the two of you. a little fun never hurt nobody, right? two-bit seemed like the expert at stealing, and you just liked to break the law.

the longest it went on was for a week. you tot caught first and you have yet to live it down.

“so god fuckin’ help me—i will gauge your eyeballs out with this fucking fork!”

“yeah but, i’ll die knowin’ that i was able to steal without gettin’ BANNED!”

two-bit later had a bruise on his ribs.

you’ve never been one to stay in a group of people. but staying with these people—it was different in so many ways.

you knew they wanted you here, they knew you loved them and that you knew that they loved you too. and unfamiliar feeling sure—but a welcomed feeling.

you argued, fought, and even fist fought each other. but goddamnit, you all moved past it. and that’s all you could ask for in this little life. even if your life is mostly you sitting in a prison.

[say-al0e]

Home Run

Rating: PG-13 

Summary: Bradley Bradshaw has been your friend for years, a constant in an ever-evolving life. You’ve always harbored a small crush on him. All it takes is one night to change everything. | Ft. “Are we on a date right now?” requested by @xlostinobsessionsx​ and “Don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the view,” “You’re getting shy on me now? Really?,” and “Kiss me. Like you mean it.” requested by Anon.

Warnings: Baseball, mentions of anxiety, mentions of deployment, mention of parent death (Goose is mentioned but it’s blink and you miss it), mentions of family issues. I think that’s it but let me know if you see anything else!

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x fem!Reader (call sign Angel)

Word Count: 9k (......sorry)

Top Gun Taglist | Top Gun Masterlist

“What are you doing Saturday?”

Bradley Bradshaw sank into one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs opposite your desk, coffee in either hand as he spared you an expectant glance. Though he shouldn’t have looked so comfortable, at home amongst the stark white of the medical office, he’d become a near permanent fixture since returning to Top Gun.

Years had passed, several of which with only sporadic contact shared, but Bradley had barreled back into your life as if it had only been a matter of days. With the aviators he wore so often hooked into the collar of his undershirt and cheeks tinted pink from the California sun, you could almost believe it - convince yourself that you were the same twenty-somethings you’d once been - as you lifted your eyes to meet his.

“Good morning, Bradley. I’m doing fine, how are you? Gee, the weather sure is nice, though I heard it might rain,” you drawled, tone decidedly unimpressed as you glanced away from your chart to fix him with the blandest look you could muster. The lack of greeting was something he found himself guilty of often - it was nothing for him to drop into a conversation without preamble, leaving you scrambling to catch up - and you had a habit of calling him on it. However, when you were met with little more than raised brows, you allowed yourself a quiet laugh. “Manners, Bradshaw. What, were you raised in a barn?”

“I was raised in Virginia,” he reminded you, shrugging as he did so. “And spent four years in a fraternity. So, do with that what you will.” It took a great deal of effort to conceal your laughter, despite your amusement being his ultimate goal, as he swallowed his own with a sip of coffee. “Anyway,” he redirected, look pointed, “Saturday. Plans?”

With a sigh, you exchanged the pen in your hand for the coffee he slid across the desk - only slightly awed he still remembered your order - and provided Bradley with your full attention. It was clear he was a man on a mission, unbothered by the limited time to waste until training, and wouldn’t leave until he had an answer. So, you settled into your chair.

“Nope. I’m free.” It was clear that he had something in mind, an adventure of some sort he deemed you worthy of joining, but weeks had passed since you last spent quality time together. It wasn’t uncommon but you wanted to tease him, make him spell it out, so you hummed thoughtfully. “Nat’s sister is in town, Bob’s back home on leave, Mickey’s binging Star Trek in chronological order - which I’ve already done -, and Jake’s, well, Jake. So, I figured I’d just go to the beach or something. Why?”

Bradley frowned, an unexpected twinge of something akin to hurt clouding his otherwise bright eyes, as he lifted his own coffee. “I’m not on that list,” he pointed out, brows furrowing as he fixed you with a look you’d been on the receiving end of far too many times. “Why?”

The reaction was a little more serious than you were expecting and it was your turn to frown. One glance at Bradley told you that his inquiry, while uttered as teasingly as he could muster so early in the morning, was genuine. A brief flash of hurt crossed his face, darkened his eyes for a split second, before he hid his frown behind a sip of coffee.

A small pang of guilt needled at your skin. Though you’d meant it to be teasing, a joke, you never thought Bradley would take it as anything else.

“I just figured you’d be with Mav again,” you explained, only a little guilty. It was accompanied by an uncertain shrug as you stirred your coffee, though you knew Bradley could tell how bad you felt. “You’ve been with him the last few weekends and I didn’t want to interrupt the bonding.” When Bradley made a face, brows furrowing as he attempted to recount exactly how much time he’d been spending with Maverick - and when you last spent time together - you laughed quietly. “I think it’s nice, Roo,” you insisted, shooting him what you hoped to be a reassuring smile. “I’m glad you’re getting along. And now that we’re stationed together again, we can hang out whenever. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s very thoughtful and I appreciate it,” he declared, slipping his foot under the gap in your desk to nudge yours, “but call me out when I get distant. You’re important to me.”

Though your entire body grew warm at the weight of his declaration - the sincerity with which he spoke, the earnest look in his eyes, the soft gravel of his voice - you swallowed the butterflies threatening to escape and shook your head. 

Bradley Bradshaw was one of your closest friends and had been a part of your life for much of your adulthood. You’d seen him at his best - and at his worst - and knew what it meant to love him. He had a tendency to leave a trail of broken hearts in his wake, unintentionally as he’d always been charismatic yet emotionally unavailable, and you’d spent the last ten years determined not to be one.

Instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the feelings you’d realized last time you were stationed together, the feelings you’d spent years questioning and rationalizing and compartmentalizing; instead of allowing yourself to dwell on the warmth, then the chill of realization that he couldn’t mean that in the way you so desperately hoped, you shook your head.

“There’s a difference between being distant and making up for lost time, Roo.”

Bradley waved a hand, dismissing the idea even as his gaze dropped to the cup in his hands for a moment. “Anyway,” he redirected, lifting his gaze once more after a moment of silence. “There’s this new place downtown. It’s a bar but it’s got an arcade, go-karts, mini-golf; all kinds of shit.” He paused, for dramatic effect, you were sure - he’d been spending too much time with Fanboy, you decided, though you managed to keep from rolling your eyes. “There’s also a batting cage.”

The foundation of your friendship with Bradley was built on a handful of shared interests and experiences. You’d both had difficult upbringings, marred by tragedy, and both went to a traditional university rather than the Naval Academy. And, in the pursuit of your degrees, both spent years as student athletes. So, if the grin threatening to lift the corners of his mouth was anything to go by, Bradley knew he had you with the mention of the batting cage.

“Yeah, I heard about it. Fritz took his girlfriend there last weekend. She said it was nice.” Even before her confirmation, you’d seen it online and placed it on a list of ‘to-visit’ spots. There was no question that Bradley would be the perfect companion to enjoy all the bar had to offer but you continued to play coy. “Apparently, they’re working with that brewery, that one with the nice taproom we went to a few months ago.”

For a brief moment, silence settled over the corner of the medical office you called yours. Bradley waited, just until you returned your gaze to his, before raising a brow at you. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?” His amusement was obvious, laughter badly hidden behind his coffee cup as he awaited your confirmation, but he wasted no time giving in to you. “Do you want to go with me, check it out?”

“It’s only fair, since you’ve been avoiding me.” The unamused look Bradley shot you nearly made you break, laughter bubbling in your through - regardless of the pang of guilt you felt earlier, you knew he wouldn’t take offense - but you bit your tongue and nodded. “Yeah, alright. S’long as you don’t pout when I embarrass you at the batting cage.”

A scoff left his lips as he stood from his seat, mission accomplished and ready to finally begin his day. “We were both pitchers, Angel,” he reminded you, rolling his eyes as he gathered his coffee and waited for you to do the same. “Neither of us can bat for shit.”

“Hey, speak for yourself, Bradshaw.” You followed his lead, gathering the items necessary for you to begin your rounds, as you offered him a saccharine smile. “I was a cleanup hitter.”

The word ‘bullshit,’ disguised with a purposefully awful cough escaped Bradley’s lips. When you rolled your eyes, amused at his disbelief, he laughed. “Seriously?”

“Dead serious. I swear I’ve told you this before, but look up my stats, frat boy,” you implored him, not bothering to hide your laughter as you rounded the desk and headed for the door with him close behind. “You were day drinking and I was in a batting cage. We were not the same.”

Silence settled for a moment, broken by the sounds of the medical staff beginning their morning shift, as you ambled down the hall with Bradley close by. Finally, after a beat, he hummed thoughtfully. 

“Guess we’ll see on Saturday, then.” He brushed past you to hold the door, body close enough for the scent of his cologne to overpower the antiseptic and cloud your thoughts, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat as he glanced down at you. Still, you swallowed the butterflies beginning to swarm in your stomach as he proposed, “Fewest hits buys dinner?”

“I’m an expensive date, Bradshaw.” The taunt was nowhere near as strong as you intended, nowhere near as sharp, but if Bradley noticed, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he simply shrugged as you both paused just shy of the exit.

“So am I, Angel.” 

Then, for just a moment, Bradley studied you. Those warm brown eyes raked over your skin, rapidly heating from the weight of his attention, as that amused grin never faltered. His eyes, however, softened considerably as you blinked at him. There seemed to be something on the tip of his tongue, some witty quip that would make you laugh, but before he could speak, the door opened and a handful of nurses streamed into the hallway.

The group, who you knew well and worked with daily, all bid you both a good morning - though you could see from their not-so-discreet stares that you’d be answering questions about your relationship, or lack thereof, with Bradley later on - and the moment was broken.

Bradley spared a glance at his watch, seemed to realize the time, and reached for the door. “I’ll see you Saturday.” And with that, he stepped outside, off in the direction of the hangar, leaving you to shake your head.

Spending time with Bradley was something you’d always adored, regardless of what it meant and where you ended up - whether it was at the Hard Deck, surrounded by the group of pilots you’d been accepted into without question, or out on the beach, alone as you watched the waves roll in. Though you had a tendency to tease, to give him a hard time, you were glad to accept any invitation to make up for lost time.

And while plans made at the beginning of the week always seemed so far away, especially plans made with Bradley, Saturday seemed to roll around far quicker than you expected.

Between new students - some losing the battle against the California sun, others losing the battle against a bottle of tequila - and yearly appointments all seeming to fall within the same few day span, you barely had time to breathe, let alone think about your weekend plans. Bradley was also kept busy, pulled in one direction or another as he prepared for yet another special mission, and your paths only crossed briefly throughout the week.

Though communication was limited - only a handful of words shared in passing, along with a text or two to confirm plans hadn’t changed - Bradley still arrived at your place at six on the dot.

Bradley made it halfway up the sidewalk, ready to knock at your door and greet you with a grin - some witty quip on his lips about how nice you cleanup - before you stepped out onto the small stoop with a bright grin of your own.

“Ya know, I was kind of expecting you to be fashionably late, Roo.”

While he’d never been late for work - Bradley understood the importance of time management, valued his job and wanted to make a positive impression on his superiors - he had a habit of making a grand entrance elsewhere. Most nights, he sauntered into the Hard Deck fifteen minutes after everyone else, dressed in a gaudy Hawaiian shirt and blue jeans that always hugged his thighs just right. He nearly always showed up to Sunday brunch with a hangover, twenty minutes after the agreed upon time, and already nursing a hangover. 

But the thing about Bradley’s habitual lateness; he’d never been late for you.

If you made plans, agreed to spend quality time together without the rest of the Daggers, he made it a point to show up. Hungover, exhausted, burnt out from a long week - it never seemed to matter. Bradley had never left you hanging and you’d long since stopped wondering when that day would come. Instead, you thanked your lucky stars that Bradley Bradshaw deemed you worthy of his time and attention and grinned at him as you approached the Bronco.

Bradley caught the teasing lilt to your voice immediately, saw the glittering amusement in your eyes, and laughed himself as he shook his head. “I figured I got lucky enough getting you to hang out with me. Didn’t want to push it by being late.”

“Very thoughtful.” In true Bradley fashion, he opened the Bronco door for you, aviators slipping down the bridge of his nose as he took in the outfit - casual, but still nicer than anything you’d wear to the Hard Deck - you wore. You ignored the warmth creeping up your chest at the weight of his gaze, swallowed it in hopes of drowning the butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, as you shook your head. “And chivalrous, too! It’s a wonder you’re so painfully single, Bradshaw.”

The roll of his eyes was playful, unbothered by the teasing jab at his relationship status - something that had become a running joke among the Daggers by this point, anyway - as he rounded the Bronco to join you. “It’s the emotional unavailability,” he defended, shrugging as he turned on the vehicle. “Or something like that.”

“At least you’re self-aware. That counts for something, I think.”

Occasionally, you wondered if the jabs at Bradley’s lack of a love life - or, rather, lack of a committed love life, lack of a steady love life, as he’d had his fair share of flings over the years, though they’d slowed to a complete stop since his return to Top Gun - ever bothered him.

Jake started it all a few months after the Daggers’ friendship became real, shortly after that first mission ended. He made some stupid joke about Bradley’s lack of commitment after he found himself committed to a pretty bartender and it was true enough. Bradley hadn’t had a steady partner in years, not one that he deemed worthy of introducing to his friends, anyway, and you all took turns playing armchair therapist to rationalize why.

Still, Bradley seemed to take it all in stride.

As he always seemed to, Bradley shook his head and laughed quietly as he pulled away from the curb. Instead of arguing, carrying on with the bit as he sometimes did, the conversation fell into a natural lull as he allowed his usual playlist - comprised of eighties throwbacks and the occasional song from his days as a frat boy - to fill the cab of the Bronco.

While it should’ve been uncomfortable, silence with Bradley never was. Even in the beginning of your friendship, back when you were both bright-eyed and overwhelmed with the seemingly endless possibilities your futures seemed to hold, Bradley was was comfortable. And even back then, when your heart seemed to skip a beat every time he smiled at you - every time you were certain your skin would remain permanently on fire, every time you were certain your giddy laughter would give you away - it was always easy.

No matter how much time seemed to pass, no matter how many miles separated you, Bradley had always been a constant. And it seemed that no matter where in the world you found yourselves, when you reunited, there was an overwhelming feeling of returning home.

When you stopped to think about it, that comfort - that feeling of home, that stability - was what kept you from risking your friendship with Bradley.

Though you’d harbored an ever-growing, seemingly never fading, crush on him since the day you met, pushing for anything more came with a risk of losing him for good. Acting on those feelings, acknowledging them outside the confines of your own thoughts, meant risking everything you’d built.

The friendship you shared survived distance, months spent oceans apart; it survived seemingly endless stretches of time with limited communication; it survived deployments, periods of discomfort, moments of doubt, and everything in between because there was no pressure.

With Bradley, there were never any expectations. 

Bradley had always been comfortable because with him, you felt the freedom to just exist. He never expected you to be anything other than yourself, accepted you for the person that you were, and saw the beauty in that. He never judged you for saying the wrong thing or having a bad day, never thought less of you for needing a shoulder to lean on. He never made you feel less than.

There was never a fear of fucking it all up but you knew the moment you crossed that line, the moment you allowed yourself to give in and fall completely in love with Bradley Bradshaw, you were opening yourself up for a heartbreak you’d only had nightmares of.

Before you could spiral further, fall into a pit of despair so deep it would take the rest of the weekend to climb out of, Bradley’s voice cut through the din inside your head. That voice, rasp a balm for your suddenly aching chest, rang in your ears as he declared, “Hate to interrupt your attempt to solve all the world’s problems, but we’re here.”

A cursory glance out the window confirmed his statement and you blinked as you took in the sheer size of it all. “Fritz really undersold this place,” you said, sparing Bradley a quick glance before eying the packed parking lot. “It’s massive.”

“I don’t know what I was expecting but I don’t think it was this.”

A hum of agreement was all that seemed necessary and even that was lost to the ether as Bradley parked and shut off the engine. While you were entranced by all the bar offered, eyes wide as you scanned the patio just to the side, he was quick to round the Bronco and open the door for you. He grinned when you shot him a look, eyes sparkling with a sort of mischief as he awaited your teasing comment about chivalry, but you both remained quiet for a moment as you crossed the parking lot.

The bar itself looked like something plucked from your fondest childhood memories; a clash of past and present with an arcade facade, a mini-golf course, batting cages, and a go-kart track out back, all accompanied by a few bars scattered around, and you were struck by a sudden wave of nostalgia as gravel crunched beneath your feet.

Bradley seemed to be, too, as he gestured to the course with a grin. “I think every mini-golf place I ever went to growing up had one of those bridges.” He pointed to an awkward length bridge, covering the short distance between holes split by a trickle of water meant to represent a river, and you laughed.

“At least they’re useful.” At that moment, a small group climbed single file over the bridge - when they could’ve easily just stepped over - and you hummed. “Well, sort of. All the ones on the Gulf Coast have random alligators.” Bradley’s laughter was cut short as he raised a brow, question of whether you meant real alligators or statues - or maybe both - but you only shrugged. 

Though you hadn’t been stationed together in years, you’d kept up with one another. Any time you moved, packed it all up and traded this coast for that one, you shared the details with one another. Bradley had been sent photos from Florida - pictures of alligators and Disney and stormy beaches - while you were sent photos from Virginia and, after the fact, the middle of the ocean.

The only time either of you kept your relocation a secret was his initial return to Fightertown as it came after yours and he’d wanted to surprise you.

That line of conversation and the following contemplative silence didn’t last very long as Bradley spared you a glance. “What were you thinking so hard about on the drive? Thought I saw smoke coming out of your ears.”

Bradley was often direct with you, asked questions you would sometimes prefer not to answer, but there was no chance you intended to share your line of thinking. He would get it, you knew that, but the conversation was unnecessary as you were doing just fine hiding it all. So, you shook your head and offered him your best smile. “Doesn’t matter. Just a long week.” That wasn’t technically a lie, it had been a painfully long week, but he didn’t need to know that all thoughts outside of him ceased to exist the moment you stepped out your front door to see him waiting for you. Instead, you attempted to redirect by gesturing to the batting cages. “We starting or ending there?”

There was a look in his eyes that made you fearful he would continue his line of questioning, one that said he didn’t believe you, but he seemed to think better of pushing. “I was thinking we end there,” he reasoned as he glanced over and offered you a half-smile. “Build the suspense, you know?”

“Or get enough drinks in that neither of us will be up to our usual.” It was playfully accusatory, teasing in a way that felt so natural with Bradley, and you felt a small sense of triumph as he laughed.

“You were in a batting cage, I was day drinking,” he reminded you, snickering as he repeated your quip from earlier in the week. When you cut your eyes at him, his smile seemed to double in size. “A beer or two won’t have any impact at all on my batting average, Angel.”

“I’d like to say that I’m surprised,” you sighed as you stepped through the front door, “but I don’t think I am.”

Bradley rolled his eyes fondly as he followed you inside, close behind to keep from being separated. “C’mon,” he urged, “first round’s on me.”

Knowing Bradley, every round would be on him. He’d insisted since being reunited, declared he was making up for lost time when he dragged you out on nights he knew you’d rather be in bed, but you knew better. Bradley was better with actions than with words - small gestures, such as buying a round or completing an annoying to-do list task - and used them to show that he cared.

This was a conversation you’d had a dozen times before, a fight he never let you win, so you made no effort to argue as you headed for the bar.

The entire building was impressive, decorated to match the overall theme of childhood nostalgia with neon signs and patterned carpet. The walls were lined with old games - Pac-Man, Space Invaders, pinball machines - and it seemed that everywhere you turned, there was something new to discover.

Little conversation was shared at first as both you and Bradley were too busy marveling at the sheer size of the space. It was almost overwhelming, too many choices in one building, but soon, you were wandering through the vastness of it all in search of your next activity.

Much of the night passed in a blur of bright colors and loud noises. The games themselves were fun, easy enough when you had a drink in your hand - though you and Bradley both kept it light with only one drink each, too busy having fun to return to the bar and wait. Bradley’s presence, however, made it all the better.

Bradley kept you close as you weaved through the crowds, one hand at the center of your back - respectful, but still enough to have your breath catching in your throat with every press of his fingers as you felt the warmth of his palm through the material of your top. 

While you opted against the go-karts and mini-golf, you’d already formulated a plan to return with the rest of the Daggers in tow. You and Bradley mapped it all out between games of skee ball and Crazy Taxi - you’d begin with go-karts, before the group started drinking, and end with the pair of you showing everyone up in the batting cages. It was perfect, silly and fun, and you found yourself forgetting everything that wasn’t the immense joy you were experiencing.

Hours passed in a haze of giddy laughter and jokes traded at the others’ expense before you finally made your way outside. With his hand still at the center of your back, slipping lower with every step, Bradley guided you to the batting cages with a grin.

“Alright, slugger,” he teased, eyes bright and glittering in the overhead lights as he gestured to the rack of bats. “Lady’s first. Show me how it’s done.”

With a playful shake of your head, you stepped away from Bradley and reached for a helmet and a bat. There was no doubt that he believed you - he believed nearly everything you said, whether he should have or not - but he was once a pitcher, too. It was an experience you shared, one few people you saw daily understood, and you knew this was less about you proving yourself and more about finding something you had in common and celebrating it.

The entire night was a way to spend time together doing something you both loved, something you rarely got to indulge in these days, and you were grateful he’d suggested it. Even as you stepped into the batting cage, weight of Bradley’s gaze heavy against your skin, you felt nothing but the giddy excitement you’d been experiencing since stepping foot into the bar.

Had it been anyone else, you might’ve felt nervous. The teasing, the playful jeering as you took a few practice swings, might’ve made you afraid of looking stupid. But this was Bradley. While he could be competitive, it was always playful - with you, anyway. This was fun and you knew he would cheer you on regardless, so you nodded when he asked if you were ready to start.

When the first ball came flying toward you, speed at the max setting, you inhaled deeply before taking a swing. The ball whistled as it soared high, a resounding ‘ping’ echoed through the cages and earned a few glances from passersby, and you felt a sort of relief as it flew into the net before bouncing back toward the return.

Laughter, amused and a little awed, rang out behind you as you caught Bradley shake his head from the corner of your eye. “You weren’t joking.”

“You almost sound surprised, Bradshaw,” you teased, though he didn’t - not in the slightest. “This one’s going to the left, top corner,” you informed him as you shifted your hips and waited for the next ball.

As it flew high and left with another sharp ‘ping,’ Bradley leaned against the barrier and folded his arms over his chest. “Where are we goin’ for dinner?” The question was asked with a smile, bright and tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “Your choice since I’m clearly going to be paying for it.”

“It’s not over ’til it’s over.” Even as you spoke, words interrupted by a huff of effort as you took a swing, Bradley seemed unconvinced. And, if he’d been as honest as you, he had every reason to be. With a laugh, you offered, “I was thinking about that place by the beach, the one with the cool patio.”

“Sure.” Bradley would’ve allowed you to choose regardless - and wouldn’t have let you pay for him, even if you proved to be an awful batter - because that was the kind of friend he’d always been. The restaurant on the beach was a shared favorite, however, a staple that you visited at least once a month, and you knew you would’ve likely ended up there, anyway. So, you felt little remorse about your choice, even as he continued. “You’re only two balls in but you win,” he relented, laughing as he lifted his soda to take a sip. “Where’s this one headed?”

“Straight up the middle.”

Between pitches, you spared him a glance over your shoulder. You expected him to look bemused, pretending to be put out by your ability, but there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. His smile was fond, brighter than you expected, and you almost convinced yourself it was pride that had his shoulders set a little straighter as a passing pair praised your ability.

Even the brief notion that Bradley was proud of you, impressed by your ability in a way few others had been, was enough to warm you from within. Heat flooded your veins, much as it did every time he spared you a wayward compliment, and it took a conscious effort to keep yourself from preening under his scrutiny.

“Why am I not surprised you’re a place hitter?” His question was punctuated with another resounding ‘ping,’ followed by a ball flying into the net, as he shook his head once more. “Starting to think you were grown in a lab, Angel.” 

It was clearly teasing, a soft jab accompanied by laughter, but you couldn’t help the bashful shrug as you readied yourself for another ball. His jokes about your perfection had become more frequent, accompanied by soft laughter, and though you knew he’d witnessed your flaws, it still made your skin prickle any time Bradley saw the good in you.

Still, you swallowed the warmth and tightened your grip on the bat. “Told you, batting cages while you were day drinking.” There was a brief pause as you took another swing, this hit a line drive to the left, before you admitted, “Softball and nursing school didn’t leave much time for fun or friends so, batting cage it was.”

“We would’ve been friends,” he declared, certain in a way you wished you could be - though you were grateful to have met him later in life. You knew yourself well enough to know that you likely wouldn’t have been able to handle the schoolgirl crush you’d formed almost immediately after meeting him, not then. But Bradley didn’t give you much time to dwell as he hummed, “We could’ve been day drinking and hitting the batting cages together.”

“I don’t know if I would’ve befriended frat boy Bradley.” Though you offered him a teasing grin, laughed when he rolled his eyes, you knew that you would have. You were half-certain that you would’ve found Bradley in any life and fallen just as hard, no matter the circumstances of your meeting. But you kept that realization to yourself as you teased, “His idea of fun sounds like it could end in an ER visit.”

“Would’ve given a student nurse some real life experience,” he reasoned, smile growing into something brilliant when you laughed. “But at least you admit it sounds like fun.” Bradley tipped his head then, brows furrowing as he watched you take another swing. “Why’d you play, though? Nursing always sounded hard enough without being an athlete, too.”

Over the years, you’d had more conversations with Bradley than you could count. There were very few topics that hadn’t come up as you shared nearly everything - your career, your friends, your hobbies, your interests, your hometowns - but family was one of them. And, in a long line of similarities, your reason for playing softball and his reason for playing baseball was rooted in family.

Bradley once mentioned that baseball was originally deigned something to do, a task that got him out of the house and incorporated him into the community when he and his mother moved to Virginia after Goose’s death. He once shared that it was something his father loved as a child, an alternate life path he could’ve taken, and indulging in it made him feel a little closer to the father he missed. He admitted that it made him feel weightless - long before he experienced true weightlessness in the cockpit of a jet - but he’d never asked you why.

It was just one of those things that went unspoken until it didn’t.

“Family,” you revealed, not bothering to turn even as he made a noise of understanding. “My grandmother played. She got married and had kids really young. Sports weren’t really a thing for women in her time, anyway, but there was a rec league in town. She was amazing; a switch hitter, place hitter, a damn good pitcher. If she’d been born a little later, she could’ve made a life for herself playing. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t. My mom tried to take after her but she never really got the hang of it. I was the only one who did, so, I guess I figured I had to be the one to live the dream for them.”

The weight of your rationale was not lost on Bradley, you knew that, but he was never one to push for more. That was enough, enough vulnerability for a batting cage in the middle of a crowd, so he shifted. “Do you still play?”

Once upon a time, after a handful of drinks and a few stories about the Naval Academy from the Daggers, Bradley shared the things he missed about college. Baseball was one of them as he hadn’t played since graduation. He’d been asked, a handful of times, to join in on the odd pickup game here or there but it wasn’t the same and you knew that. There was little a pickup game could do to recapture the feeling you’d experienced on a field with teammates but Bradley seemed to realize that you’d at least swung a bat since graduating.

“Sometimes,” you confirmed, finally sparing him a sideways glance. Those brown eyes followed your every move, every shift of your hips or flex of your foot, and you felt your skin prickle under his scrutiny. You shrugged, returning your gaze to the machine, and took a deep breath. “I join local leagues when I can, if I hear about them. It was easier when I was working at a hospital with civilian nurses but most of the time, they don’t really want me joining in. I can never promise I’ll be around for a whole season or that I can make it to everything. I get it, though. They want someone who’s going to be there.”

When the machine finally shut off, you turned to face Bradley. There was a look on his face that you couldn’t read - something contemplative, softer than you expected - as he declared, “Their loss. They’d be lucky to have you, Angel.”

Bradley’s sincerity was obvious, almost achingly so, and you felt your heart clench at his declaration. It meant more than you knew it should but before you could dwell, consider exactly how it made you feel, Bradley headed for the controls.

“Wait,” you called out, before he could press the ‘start’ button. “Don’t you want to bat? I feel like I’ve been in here forever.”

“Don’t mind me.” He smiled, this one real and bright, as he gestured to you. You stood, still inside the cage with a bat clutched in one hand, and lifted your gaze to meet his eyes. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

A storm of butterflies filled the pit of your stomach. Your skin heated, your heart thumped just a bit too hard in your chest, and you had to tip your head to hide your face as you shook your head. There was a slight edge to his voice, a deeper rasp that you’d only heard used at the Hard Deck - locked in conversation with pretty girls you watched him take home instead of you - and you were almost convinced you imagined it. However, before you could question it, Bradley laughed.

“Oh, you’re getting shy on me now? Really?” As desperately as you wanted to make some sort of witty quip, return his teasing with some of your own and hope that your voice didn’t shake, you could only attempt to swallow the warmth creeping up your chest as he pressed the button. “I’m having plenty of fun watching you, Angel. Keep going!”

There was a warmth to Bradley’s comment that seeped into your bones, warmed you from within. Bradley complimented you frequently, sought to make you - and other friends, including Natasha - feel proud, but this was different. There was a weight to everything he’d said throughout the course of the night you’d never felt before.

The weight of his statement, the softness with which he spoke, had your voice catching in your throat as you waited for the machine to start. Your heart continued to thunder in your chest, cheeks heating, but you attempted to disregard the feeling of Bradley’s gaze burning into your skin.

When you finally found your voice, heart still beating just a touch too fast even after the first hit, you shook your head. “One more round,” you relented, “and then you’re up, Bradshaw.”

If Bradley heard the waver in your voice, if he noticed the slight heave of your chest as you fought to even your breathing, he didn’t mention it. Instead, he nodded easily. “Of course. We have to end the night with a laugh,” he reasoned, poking fun at his own abilities. “You gonna be my relief hitter when I strike out?”

“It’s a batting cage, Roo.” It was meant to make you laugh, meant to ease the tension you knew he could see in your shoulders, but it worked as you leaned into a swing. “There are no strikeouts.”

Before he could counter, make some joke that would keep you laughing and fully ease you back into the moment, a passerby - who’d definitely had more than your one drink - yelled, “Damn, man. Your girl’s killing it!”

“Yeah, she is.”

Three words, a simple acknowledgement of a drunken compliment, and you nearly missed the next pitch that flew toward you. It likely meant nothing to him - he likely hadn’t even noticed the man call you his girl - but if you weren’t careful, you knew this moment would play on a loop in the back of your mind. 

It was intoxicating, the idea that someone else saw you as Bradley’s girl, but you made a herculean effort to stay focused on the task at hand as you took swing after swing. A handful of passersby continued to cheer, drunken words of encouragement rang out with every ball you sent soaring, but Bradley kept quiet as you flew through the remaining pitches on the machine.

There were no witty quips, no jokes, and you were grateful for the relative silence as you allowed the repetitive motion to calm your rapidly beating heart.

Finally, when the machine reached zero and you’d reached a state of semi-normalcy, you turned to watch as he grabbed his own helmet and bat.

Bradley approached with a smile, though it was softer than it had been all night - gentle, almost timid in a way you’d never seen him - and brushed your shoulder with his own as you passed in the entryway. Though it was far from the first time he’d touched you, a jolt of electricity flew through your body at the contact and you struggled to inhale deeply as you offered him what you hoped to be a teasing grin.

“Alright, frat boy,” you hummed, voice quieter than you intended but still playful enough, “show me what you’ve got.”

The quip made Bradley laugh, even as he shook his head at the nickname. “Prepare to be woefully underwhelmed, Angel,” he teased, offering you a grin as he settled into his stance.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

With a nod from Bradley, you pressed the ‘start’ button and watched as the first pitch flew toward him. And, with that very first swing, you knew he’d been telling the truth.

Bradley’s first attempt ended in a foul ball, right off the tip of the bat, and the second fell just a little too close to his hands. His third was a complete miss, though he made a decent effort, and you lifted your hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle your laughter. 

There was no telling how much of this was an act - playing up his lack of ability to make you laugh, to make you feel better about your own prowess - but you couldn’t help yourself as you winced when he dropped his shoulder and missed a third ball.

“Nevermind. You really are a shitty batter, Bradshaw.”

“Funny, that’s what every coach I’ve ever had said.” When you laughed, shaking your head at his self-deprecating joke, Bradley took another swing. With another miss, he spared you a quick glance over his shoulder. “This is why I was a pitcher,” he acknowledged, glancing at a ball that rolled past his feet. “Next time, we’ll go to a field somewhere and I can redeem myself.”

“No redemption necessary. I believe you’re a good pitcher,” you promised him, laughing as he jolted away from a ball spiraling too close for his comfort. “Pitchers aren’t supposed to be able to hit.”

Bradley made yet another attempt and you nearly clapped as this one connected and flew into the top right corner. With it, Bradley laughed. “That’s the best you’re gonna get,” he declared, smiling as he spared you another glance. “Press stop for me, Angel?”

With a laugh of your own, you pressed the ‘stop’ button and waited a moment for Bradley to exit the batting cage. As he stepped out, returned his helmet and bat, you took a moment to study him.

Bradley Bradshaw was beautiful. Though you kept your feelings for him a closely guarded secret, everyone knew you found him attractive. You weren’t the only one who thought so, especially on those nights he wore the jeans that hugged his thighs just right to the Hard Deck - especially on the nights he wore his Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, collar of his undershirt weighed down by aviators and exposing a sliver of sun kissed skin - but you were always struck by just how pretty he was up close.

Though you’d never been much of a fan of the mustache - a commonality on every base you’d ever been stationed at, especially among pilots - it worked for Bradley. It suited him and you were glad he hadn’t been talked out of it yet.

Even on the toughest of days, Bradley always offered you a smile. He made it a point to be honest with you, to tell you when he felt rough or when he’d seen better days, but he always left having shared at least one smile. It was always encouraging, always there when you needed it, and you were grateful that Bradley deemed you worthy of his smile.

And those eyes - warm and beautiful, always so expressive whenever he regarded you - never failed to make you weak in the knees. With every gaze you shared, with every glance exchanged, you found yourself falling deeper into a hole you knew you would never be able to climb free from.

However, as Bradley turned to you, you felt the air escape your lungs as you began to realize that you were alright with never being able to climb free.

As afraid as you were that the comfort you found in Bradley would be lost should you allow yourself to fall completely, you realized that he would never allow that. 

Bradley had been a part of your life for years, there for you through the best and worst moments of your life. No matter what happened, he’d proven to be a constant - a home for you to return to in even the most troubling of times. There was never any doubt that he would remain in your life, even if you learned what it was to love and lose Bradley Bradshaw, and you began to accept that.

In a stunning moment of realization, you came to the understanding that should you choose to give this a try, should Bradley want you in the way that you wanted him, he would do everything in his power to be there for you regardless. And should he not want you - though, as you finally gave yourself the space to consider, you wondered if the things you rationalized as friendship actually meant more to him - he would never leave you out in the cold.

Even if everything that could go wrong did go wrong, even if a relationship happened and ended in heartbreak, you were confident that Bradley Bradshaw would remain constant.

After years of stability, years of love and patience, there was little that could push him away. 

“Angel?” Bradley’s voice broke through the haze, drew you out of your thoughts and back to reality as you blinked at him. He frowned, concerned, and took a half-step closer as he studied your face. “Are you okay? I lost you for a minute.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.” With a smile, you gave Bradley a nod - hopefully convincing him that you were, in fact, alright - before gesturing to the mini-golf course. “I think we played everything inside but there’s always mini-golf, if you want to keep playing. But I’m good if you want to call it a night.”

“I think my pride’s taken a severe enough hit,” he teased, expression relaxing slightly as he glanced toward the parking lot. “Let’s get you home. It’s almost past your bedtime, anyway.”

Though you rolled your eyes, you shook your head fondly as Bradley fell into step beside you and began heading slowly toward the Bronco. 

The question you’d wanted to ask for a long while - whether Bradley wanted the relationship you did, whether he saw you win the same light - lingered on the tip of your tongue. After years of wondering ‘what-if,’ you finally allowed yourself to ask the question aloud.

“Bradley?” Warm brown eyes met yours, soft and still slightly concerned, as he hummed his acknowledgement. “Is this…” You weighed your words for a moment, considering, before you finally settled on a question. “Are we on a date right now?”

A soft, half-smile lifted the corner of Bradley’s mouth as he reached into his pocket in search of his keys. It was almost bashful, the way he ducked his head, and you swallowed to keep yourself grounded as you waited.

“I wanted it to be,” he admitted, voice quiet as the din of the bar began to fade. “I was going to really ask, make it obvious that’s what I wanted, I just…”

Bradley’s hesitation felt familiar. His shrug, noncommittal and questioning, was the same thing you found yourself doing whenever Natasha questioned why you refused to make a move. There was a tinge of fear in the pink dusting his cheeks, in the set of his shoulders as you approached the Bronco, and you held your breath as he shook his head.

“I like being your friend. I’m happy to be your friend,” he stressed, coming to a stop at the passenger side of the Bronco. In the dim light of the parking lot, Bradley’s eyes glittered as they met yours. “I haven’t spent this long being your friend as some sort of consolation prize, worried you didn’t like me back. This isn’t settling and I don’t see our friendship as less than a relationship,” he assured you, soothing a worry you’d buried deep - one he likely sensed all along. “I just… I always knew it wasn’t the right time, we were both trying to establish ourselves. But when we were apart, I thought about you all the time. I missed you all the time, more than anyone else.”

Knowing that Bradley valued your friendship first, believed it to be important - worth as much as romantic love, not something he simply settled for in place of something he’d rather have - made your chest ache as you reached out to place a hand on his bicep.

“I missed you, too, Bradley.” When his eyes met yours, smile soft and gaze so reverential it nearly stole your breath, you couldn’t help but take a half-step closer.

Bradley remained quiet for a moment, as if considering his words, before he smiled bashfully. “I’ve always thought about this,” he admitted, hand lifting to cup your cheek. His palm seared your skin, warm and heavy and a comfort you’d wished for for years, and your breath caught in your throat as he continued.

“Why now?”

It wasn’t a question you needed an answer to, not at that moment - not under the buzz of a streetlight and in the view of drunken strangers - but it seemed important as you struggled to focus on anything other than the warmth of Bradley’s skin pressed to yours.

“Mav. He got his second chance with Penny,” Bradley reminded you, voice soft. “We never lost touch but this was another chance. I couldn’t let this one pass me by.”

“Kiss me.” Bradley smiled then, clearly pleased by your request, and leaned in. He pressed his lips to yours in a soft kiss, a chaste peck, and you nearly laughed at the feeling of his facial hair brushing your skin. His lips, slightly chapped, were warm and you lifted a hand to the back of his neck as you mumbled against his mouth, “Like you mean it, Roo.”

With a half-step, you pressed yourself impossibly closer and released the years of longing you’d suffered into the kiss. Fireworks popped behind your eyelids, blood simmered in your veins as heat engulfed your entire body, and you wondered if every kiss would be this wonderful as Bradley’s free hand fell to your waist. His fingers pressed into your hip, lips working against yours, as everything around you ceased to exist.

Despite the heat of the night, the dimness of the parking lot, you would’ve been content to remain there for the rest of the night. All that mattered was Bradley, his body pressed to yours as years of longing were swept away, but all too soon, a loud cheer broke through the blissful haze.

A group of drunken passersby cheered, whistled and encouraged you both as they wandered through the parking lot to meet an Uber, and you pulled away from Bradley with a laugh. As you tipped your head to hide your smile, mild embarrassment heating your skin, you decided that the moment still couldn’t have been better.

Bradley seemed to agree as he grinned and brushed a thumb across your cheekbone. “I can’t bat to save my life but I think tonight was a home run,” he teased, laughing as you groaned at the pun. “C’mon, let me take you home.”

“Please. Before I decide I’ve had enough of the awful jokes and leave you hanging.”

Years had passed in which you suffered through Bradley’s awful jokes with a patient smile and a disbelieving laugh. There was little you wouldn’t do for him, even less he wouldn’t do for you, but you were still left giddy by his rolling eyes. “There’s no getting rid of me now,” he promised, laughing as he started up the Bronco. “We’re in it for the long haul.”

It was a promise, one that you hoped he’d be able to keep, and you felt a surge of hope for the future.

There was no expectation for the rest of the night, no pressure as you made your way back to your place, and you were content with that. Neither of you said much on the drive, simply allowed yourselves to exist together, and for the first time, you had no worries about ‘what-if.’ Instead, there was only the thought of ‘what could be.’

A deeper conversation had to be had, you both knew that, but there would be time for that later. There was an entire future awaiting you both.

And instead of wishing it to arrive so soon, you focused solely on the moment at hand.

As Bradley walked you up the sidewalk, palm warm in your own, you made no effort to wipe the smile from your lips. The giddy feeling in your chest made you feel as if you were walking on air, excited for the possibilities that now seemed endless.

The unknown was always terrifying and there was no guarantee for the future - no guarantee for anything more than the moment at hand. But Bradley Bradshaw had always been a constant.  He’d been by your side for years, steady and true and loving. He was home, a light in the dark, and he was right; with him, you’d certainly hit a home run.

___________________________________________________

Author’s Note: It has been a Shit week. I’m going to go rewatch Top Gun and lay in the dark for a while. Enjoy the friends to lovers fun.

Taglist: @lulu-noodles, @holachicos, @getmyprettynameoutofyourmouth, @withakindheartx, @ssprayberrythings, @verin93, @totalwitch2, @malindacath, @alexparkxr, @hangmandruigandmav, @alexxavicry, @calicokel, @jaymum, @dracosluvbot, @little-wiseone, @specialk6802, @mandylove1000, @julesclues, @archetypesoflife, @oliviah-25, @benhardysdrumstick, @caatheeriinee07, @yvespoems, @chloereidwayne, @flower-name​, @callsignharper​, @peoniarose​, @hangmanscoming​, @rh3tt​, @dakotakazansky​

[the-ace-with-spades]

There's one fic idea from another fandom that I never wrote and would like to adapt to the TGM fandom, which is tattoo artist/florist but more like they're both tattoo artists but one of them doesn't know that (have I mentioned this before? i feel like I did)

tw: mentions of addiction and ODing

I'm thinking this happens in San Fran/Portland/Settle/Washington DC

Bradley had his papers pulled and accidentally started working part-time in a tattoo shop (just cleaning) and absolutely fell in love with tattoo art and switched majors from engineering to art history/etc. in his second semester. Not long after he started an apprenticeship at the same tattoo shop, his thesis was about tattoo art history and he became a well-known academic in the field and a popular tattoo artist.

Carole used to love flowers and had a very varied garden at their house and flower illustrations everywhere - Bradley used to draw flowers on every card for her - so flowers became his specialty

He now runs a tattoo shop (The Bloom) with Natasha, who he met at a tattoo competition TV show (because I'm a sucker for reality shows rn...) and flies as a side gig, but he also has part-time gigs at different colleges.

He is tattooed all over, but only on the parts of his body he can cover in some ways - it's really funny when he lectures because he looks like a stereotypical professor, cardigans, collared shirts, khakis and all, but sometimes when it's hot, he rolls up his sleeves and people can see his full-sleeve tattoos.

Now, Jake had a completely different route to the place he is at now. He got mixed with the wrong crowd and got kicked out of the Naval Academy first year, he got mixed with an even worse crowd when his family didn't take him back when he returned and he was an addict for some time. He had one of those born-again christian turn arounds - not in a super fanatic way, just woke up one day in a hospital after a close call with his (religious) crying mom praying with a rosary over him and realized he needed to change something about his life or he's going to destroy everyone around him. He starts going to church with his ma and gets a little involved in the local Christian charity, etc etc.

One of the therapies he attended was art therapy and at first, he thought it was bullshit but then he actually liked it and even designed some of his own tattoo cover-ups at the sessions (he had shitty tattoos he had done when he was high or drunk that reminded him about worse times). The tattoo artist who did his coverups was actually impressed and offered him training, which he took up.

Most of his shittiest tattoos are covered now, but he still has not very thought-through tattoos on his face, some of which are too big to ever do much about them, and some blackout tattoos, so he looks very 'stereotypically'.

Due to his background, cover-ups, black only, and trad/neo-trad tatttos are his specialty. He is also really good at pigmentation and tattoo restoration/longevity.

Now, Jake moves out of Texas with his mom after his dad (who has been completely unsupportive of him since he got kicked out of USNA) passed away, to be closer to his sister and her kids who lived on the other side of the states. He filters around, taking part-time gigs at other studios and gigs he gets from social media.

Eventually, he opens a tattoo shop with Javy, on the other side of the street as The Bloom is. Due to the amount of flowers and the name of the studio, he assumes it's a flower shop.

He and Bradley run into each other in a local coffee shop (run by Reuben and Mickey) and Jake, seeing Bradley's getup, is still under the impression Bradley is a florist.

Bradley spills Jake's coffee and asks him on a date when he pays back for his coffee a few days later

(Bob, working a street away, is the actual local florist)

[essycogany]

Amy Rose’s Quills

Yes, it’s that time again! Where I ramble about character designs and why I adore them so much. In this post, I want to talk about Amy’s quills and why I like the different ways it can be represented in official and none official media.

Just like Amy’s eye color. I’ll also make guesses as to why her overall design changed officially and in canon to make things interesting. Let’s get started!

Long Quills

This style is in Amy’s first design. Being the Minnie to Sonic’s Mickey, she had the same quill style as him. Aside from her bangs. While I do think the quills look cute, it almost makes Amy look like Sonic’s sister. I guess that’s why they changed it later on.

I say this only in comparison to her modern design. The Minnie inspiration is the reason she’s here. I’m only talking about her changing designs and making it less identical to Sonic.

My favorite iteration of her classic look is in Sonic Mania Adventures Christmas special. Just look at the differences. It may not be a HUGE change, but even her nose is slightly smaller. I just love the Mania’s designs in general. They’re awesome! I still do love the OG design too. Classic Amy is so precious.

Look at how Sonic’s quills are messier than Amy’s here. I think it gives them more dimension. Showing how one cares more about grooming themselves than the other. It’s kind of cool and I wish it was integrated in canon more. Not because it’s “important” but it’s a fun idea.

Short Quills

Ever since Sonic Adventure, Amy’s design changed immensely. Even Sonic himself noticed it in Adventure 1. Her outfit, eye color, nose, and quills (besides her iconic bangs) are different. Giving her an older more teenage look. I say this because Amy doesn’t look any older or younger then Sonic.

(Or any other teenage/young adult character for that matter)

They are sometimes even shown to have the same hight at times. Back to the quills, Amy now barely resembles her classic design and definitely looks less like a Minnie Mouse inspired design. Her classic design is still amazing, but I believe the change was a necessary one. The differences between her and Sonic are more apparent and noticeable and I think that’s a good thing.

Mixed

Here’s my own example, but there are many other fantastic fanartist who does something similar with both styles together.

Why do people like this quill style a bunch? I’d say it adds more flavor to her personality. Her having the classic long quills along with the short front dreads could symbolize her adventurous side along with her girly side. It blends the two nicely and overall looks visually interesting. While I will say her shorter quills does differentiate her better, I’ve seen plenty of artist change it up a bit in unique ways. It’s fun to create and see what ideas an artist could have for Amy.

Why Amy’s Quills Were Changed?

I’d say the official reason is because of the things I said before. But the in canon reason could be Amy wanting to look pretty enough for the next time she sees Sonic. Or perhaps she thought to change her appearance simply because she wanted to look cuter. Though I’d say the first answer is the most likely because her love for the blue blur was much more prominent in the past.

Conclusion

Did I use this as an excuse to gush about Amy again? Yep! I regret nothing. I love love LOVE Amy Rose and how interesting her design is in the past and present.

Stay Creative! 💜

[em-harlsnow]

so, i’m guessing mickey spent a lot of time in the head master’s office when he was young. im pretty sure everyone in the show went to the same school, aside from Liam, so we can assume it’s the same headmaster that Carl got sent to a lot.

now, let’s say franny goes to that school as well. she’s a good kid, so it’s not like she gets in trouble a lot. but she’s been taught by all her family that if someone starts something, you finish it.

so that’s what she does.

she ends up in the office. the head master comes in and tells her he’s calling her mother, and franny’s not worried about that. debbie will defend her tooth and nail. when debbie doesn’t answer the phone (she’s not a bad mother, she’s just at work and turned her phone off) they call the next names down the line, which is ian (debbie says ian is her fave).

so the headmaster is making some comments about the other gallaghers he’s had to deal with. mentioning carl and his ways, and lip and his. he says he’s glad it’s ian coming, because he was the least trouble.

however, both ian and mickey come.

ian knocks on the door.

“come in.” headmaster says.

ian smiles tightly and enters, mickey following behind. they both take inventory of a room they haven’t stepped foot in in a decade, marvelling at how unchanged it is.

the headmaster glances up and honestly? he’ll never forget those knuckle tats. they tortured him for the entire time mickey was in school, because they were strictly against school rules.

mickey smirks when headmaster’s face pales.

“i see you’ve brought company, Mr Gallagher.” he says.

“yeah, sir… hope that’s okay.” he smiles again, never falling out of the pattern of calling this guy ‘sir’.

mickey snorts at him, but takes the seat beside ian, opposite headmaster’s desk. “you’re such a fucking goody-goody.” he mutters, and ian smacks his thigh with a shush.

“i didn’t do anything! he started it!” franny shouts, getting the first word in.

“i’m not entirely surprised to see another gallagher in my office. but it makes even more sense now, Mr Milkovich.” Mickey smiles at him mockingly. “who are you in relation to Franny?” he asks.

“he’s her uncle.”

“right. what is it with you gallaghers and milkoviches intermingling? i had to deal with your sister-“ he points at mickey, “- and your brother-“ he points at ian, “for far too long.”

“good genes.” mickey replies.

“oh, i’m sure.” the principle snarks. “so, we understand the other boy started it. that’s not the problem. the problem is that franny broke his nose.”

mickey barks a laugh, and ian shushes him again even if hes barely containing his own smile.

“i’m glad you’re taking this as seriously as we are.” principle huffs.

“sorry - we’re taking this very seriously. what’s the solution here?” ian asks.

“the boy’s family just want an apology. an easy way out, really.”

franny makes a noise of protest and mickey’s eyebrows shoot up. “a fucking apology? the kid’s clearly an asshole, maybe a little bone breaks from a girl would be good for him.”

“please contain your language, Mr Milkovich. and no, we don’t tolerate violence of any kind here. so franny will have to apologise.” the principle roles his eyes.

“that’s totally fine, excuse my husband.” mickey rolls his eyes and ian’s placating. “franny will apologise.”

although she huffs, she nods as well.

they’re about to get up and leave, taking franny with them, when the principle speaks again.

“if you don’t mind me asking, Mr Milkovich, how long were you in prison for? you see, me and some… fellow colleagues had a little betting pool going.”

Mickey rolls his eyes, and ian laughs.

“you made bets on whether he’d go to prison?”

“not so much on whether he would go, more on how long he’d stay there.” the headmaster corrects, which makes ian laugh.

“you’re such a problem student.” ian tells him, and mickey scoffs.

“like… two years? three maybe? he did escape at one point, not sure how that factors in.” ian tells him, because mickey is busy rolling his eyes.

“i did hear about that. impressive, i must say. i don’t think anyone will win any money on that, most people bet from ten years to life.” the headmaster tells him.

“yeah, well. one, fuck you. two, glad i surpassed your expectations, Principle Twat.” mickey huffs sarcastically, getting up and going.

“i see that nickname is never going.” the principle mutters as the two most insane families he’s had the displeasure of meeting leave the office.

god, he hopes franny won’t be trouble.

[bubbleddisasters]

Since Y’all liked the last one, heres something somewhat similar:

TWST Characters as funny / random ass moments with my friends/family

———-

Ace : A good friend of mine made an entire Cards against Humanity Deck including us, and we played it at like 4 am.

Also, one of my closest childhood friends of now 11 years, the way we first met was he insulted me, and then thirty minutes later I peeked at his notebook while he was drawing (our beds were next to eachother) recognized Sans from a meme, and then managed to bullshit through an entire conversation about Undertale without him suspecting I didn’t know what the hell I was talking about.

I made a joke about it a little less then a year ago, thinking he knew by now, but no. He looks at me and the conversation goes:

“Are you telling me our entire first interaction was you just fucking improvising through a discussion of a fandom you didn’t know shit about?”

“Wait you didn’t know?”

“NO?!”

“You genuinely believed that I knew what I was talking about then for 10 years?!?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Deuce: I was biking with my sister, and she accidentally biked straight into a fucking lake. Also when my dad looked me dead in the eye after receiving one of my graded tests and goes

“How the fuck do you answer Maine four times on different questions and be wrong for all four times.”

Bonus Adeuceyuu combo: Me and two of my childhood friends once linked together to grab something we saw in a river, turns out it was just a broken fishing rod.

Also another on me and the above two friends meeting: The first thing one of them did was insult me, and I genuinely have zero memory of how I met the other.

Basically, we met at a sleepaway camp as kids, and for some reason, our sleepaway camp had some wackass shit, but one of them was this game. I don’t remember the name of it, but you had to go in groups of 3-4 and tie ribbons around each staff tent/cabinside without getting caught (and keep in mind each campsite and Cabins were very spread apart) at midnight, and the first to return to the cafeteria, where the staff were waiting, and did so after tying them all, on won.

Kids age 12-17, in the middle of fuck knows where in the woods Long Island, running around in the dark unsupervised with only any light bringing items they brought themselves.

So me, and we’ll call them C and M, teamed up. It’d take too long to go into full detail, but it was a very Prologue Mines fused with Camp Vargas core adventure.

Bonus First year gang in general : Me and three friends were waiting for something I genuinely don’t remember in an abandoned dorm area and got extremely bored, and one of them could do a perfect Donald Duck impression, and another a really good goofy, and this somehow led to us having a fake reality tv show verbal bitchfight as Donald, Goofy, Mickey and Minnie for a solid hour. We all regretted not recording it.

Cater: My friend from Wales entirely forgot about the existence of timezones and called me in the middle of my history class. Her ringtone at the time was just a clip of her screaming “Bread”.

How my teacher didn’t figure out who’s phone it was is beyond me.

Trey : Made Russian Roulette Spilt Cupcakes for a large group of my friends, and one is allergic to strawberries, while another’s favorite is, so I very specifically placed the strawberry filled one on the complete other side of the table with the intention of slipping it in after she picked her two.

Some fucking how, she ended up with the Strawberry one, which I had tied with a bow (basically the ones with bows mean they contain an allergen, and the color is the allergen. Ex: Strawberry was BRIGHT FUCKING PINK.) I’m to this day not exactly sure how, but my best guess is she traded hers with whoever originally got the Strawberry one before we ate.

Luckily, I told her partner, who had been my baking partner in crime and convinced me to add in the strawberry after I said it might be a bad idea, to bring two epi pens just incase.

Riddle : I am around 5’3, and I had a friend (?) who was 6’2-3 in middle school. We had almost the blatant definition of a Floyd and Riddle Dynamic, but he’d out of the blue be extremely sweet to me (kinda like that comic in the anthology), only on days I was going through shit. When I tell you I genuinely thought I was hallucinating when he did though-

Also, I yelled at him for nailing, yes, NAILING, a flag on the ceiling reading :”el sábado es para los chicos” (Saturday is for the boys) In the fucking Spanish classroom. Since nobody was as tall as him and the janitors didn’t notice it, it was there for like a week.

Che’nya : My friend and I have an ongoing inside joke where whenever we spot the other through a window in the hallway, we text the other “behind you” or “to your__”

Leona : I brought a pillow with a silk pillow case (gift from my mom) to a sleepover once, and my friend went “You trust leaving me in the room with this?” and I genuinely responded “Its a pillow, why wouldn’t I trust you.” entirely forgetting that Silk can be pretty expensive.

I felt so bad bro.

Ruggie : My friend once dared me to get a one plate of everything during a party. I misinterpreted this and brought a mostly to full plate of each thing, including water bottles.

Turns out they meant balance one of everything on a single plate.

I did not, infact, return the seven brownies, four cupcakes, two cookies, twelevish tangerines, popcorn and god knows how many grapes, but everything else was returned or snatched by friends.

Jack: My friend was throughly convinced she knew where she was going when we got lost outside at one of the biggest malls in fucking America, and we ended up walking a good 4/6th of the perimeter before finding the target (the store, we were still fucking lost) , which we called her mom to pick us up at.

Bonus: My friend, a few dormmates and I were at Starbucks and this random woman comes up to my friend and goes “Hey, they got my order wrong, want my drink?” and I was literally trying to give him this face of “BAD IDEA”. Yea so he ignored the obvious and drank the whole fucking thing and was bouncing off the walls for the rest of the day. (This one could also work for Jamil I suppose.)

Floyd : I was once walking with a friend of mine and jokingly said Trees are giant salads.

This motherfucker breaks off a branch of the nearest tree, takes a fatass bite, drops it, and goes “I want a refund.”

Jade : Randomly got interrogated my mushroom hunters—-

(I kind you the fuck not, MUSHROOM. HUNTERS. Basically, they go out to hunt/find/ forage for rare mushrooms. Atleast thats what they told us?! I wasn’t paying much attention, I was busy petting their dog tbh)

—While camping, my friend and I had zero clue what they were talking about, so she just pointed in a random direction and they thanked us and left.

The same friend also introduced me to mica, but always called them Mermaid Scales, and we more than once walked around in the water looking for them, I was the only one that would literally stop mid-trail to pick some up though. I have a massive collection.

Also she never let me live down the fact I once trapped myself in my tent with fucking dental floss overnight just to see if I could, then couldn’t undo it in the morning, and our adult / guide / trying to keep us alive person had to cut me out with a knife.

Azul : This one very specific time as a kid I was talking to two identical twins, who were standing on each side of me, wearing the same outfits but color reversed, and nearly had an internal breakdown trying to remember which was which, so I just did verbal gymnastics around using their names.

We later literally spent two hours fighting for ours lives together and I shit you not I STILL COULDNT REMEMBER THEIR FUCKING NAMES.

Kalim : Went shopping with my badass grandma and somehow left with a Second Hand Valentino (the brand) dress for $50 and a free bracelet one of the employees gave me because ….I actually don’t know.

Also, I got trapped on a really high up indoor water slide with my sister because the water entirely stopped (we learned later the water machine tied to that ride blew up) , and where we were was like a weird slope like between two drops. We couldn’t get back up, and going down was too risky without water bcs we could go splat.

There was like a window ish on the ride, so like a smart 8 year old, I start calling for help at the top of my lungs. My sister (10) also did this. There was this guy who I guess heard us that we nicknamed Chad because he looked like the most stereotypical 2000’s beach movie love interest lifeguard and was dramatically looking around for where the voices were coming from but NEVER LOOKED UP??

Anyway, My sister got us out in the end because she found a hatch and managed to open it, and I shit you not there was a spiral staircase with a gigantic fucking sign reading “DO NOT CLIMB STAIRCASE.”

So obviously, my sister chucks me across the gap onto the staircase and then jumps over herself, and we end up spending another 40 minutes after that fiasco trying to find our parents while i’m pretty sure Chad was trying to find us.

After the 40 minutes we just assumed we were now orphans and went back to where we left our keycard and low and behold our parents had just come back from wherever they had fucked off to.

Also Chad found us and felt super bad, and bought us a smore cake?!? Someone throw him back in time to be his destined role as an extra in Teen Beach Movie. The cake was great though, but that was one hell of an 8th birthday lmao.

Jamil : My friend from India (jokily) Divorced me after my dumbass asked her if Chai was an ingredient used in Chai Tea.

Spoiler Alert : Chai IS THE TEA. Apparently, asking for Chai Tea is the equivalent of saying “Can I have some Tea Tea please.”

Yea safe to say I felt real stupid in that moment.

Epel : My sister once locked me in the bathroom so she could test her new makeup on me. She left for one second and I kid you not I snuck out of the window.

Random bonus : Me and my cousins for some reason ended up roughhousing outside after one of our older cousins weddings, and I judo flipped a whole ass 17 year old man at age 12 and I felt so powerful in that moment.

Also If you saw about the ranch in the previous post, me that gang had an anonymous cookie provider who would leave us two tins of fresh cookies every day around 12ish pm, usually behind the kitchen or outside the equipment shack.

Yes, we tried to catch them once, No, we didn’t succeed. Also nobody wanted to risk loosing cookie privileges, so we didn’t try again.

Rook: Once scared the living shit out of my online friend by texting him “I am now several miles closer to your location.” . He lives in South America, and I happened to be in Florida with a friend, so I thought i’d be funny.

Vil : I was going to a cosplay convention with a friend, and instead of bringing like a normal amount of makeup, my indecisive ass brought basically a whole suitcase worth of it.

Also won a costume competition at my boarding school for Halloween, and wasn’t even aware there was a competition until the year after, when a good half or more of my dormmates asked me to do their makeup because they’d heard I was really good at it.

Idia: Ok, so, long story, but my friend invited me and two mutual friends to see Sweeney Todd on Broadway w/ the og cast. However, I was the only one who didn’t know we were going anywhere, because he thought his mom told my dad we were going to see Sweeney Todd, while my dad thought my friend told me, but also he was suspiciously alluding to it, maybe unintentionally

So I show up in a blue hoodie with a bad pun on it, mildly ripped sweatpants, mismatched socks and bright rainbow crocs. Not very “going to watch a musical about cannibalism and Serial Killers” attire. But it gets worse.

So around the 3/4ths into the first act is when I usually get snacks at musicals or plays, since they’re usually just finished setting up and theres no line, so I’m in and out and don’t miss much.

Well, I did that as usual, and its important to know we had front row balcony seats, because…

I slipped on my friends playbill on the way to my seat, and my fucking left croc went flying down into the seats below us, and hit an older woman in the head right at Sweeney did the first oofing, and the stage lights go red for a moment in this scene.

I felt so bad, and was literally too embarrassed to go get the shoe myself, so one of my friends got it for me. Apparently the lady thought it was somewhat funny (thank fucking goodness)

Ortho : My sister and I were biking once, and found out some reason the coats we had (school merch from field day I think). had the biggest fucking hidden pockets known to man.

So the next time we went out, she for some reason decided to put our dads entire laptop in there.

Also bonus: My friend once invited me over to their house to help with their costume, and when I came over, the costume was literally a gigantic trash can. No, not the actual object, They were literally making a giant trashcan costume.

I helped but still remained mildly confused in the process.

Malleus : I had a good friend who lived next to a graveyard, and sometimes we would just go on nice walks in the graveyard.

Lilia: Another Wilderness one: We were making Pasta, and one of the guys in our group was playing with a large thing of moss, tripped, and the moss got into the fucking pasta.

One guide said “Nature Consequence, we can still eat it” while the other screamed they were going to get fired.

Also, me and a friend were singing bo-burnham on a hike, and for some reason we had this stupid ass idea of making a fake fishing rod called…..

“The Child Catcher.”

(The irony ony of us both being 14 at the time so technically we were children)

We found a good fishing rod like stick and a vine, tied a vine on, and I kid you not we carried that thing for MILES. We also made a fork with a flatly shaped stick and a rock named Reddie.

Yea living in the woods does somethin to ya I gotta say.

Bonus: One of my childhood friends had a very giant dog, and one time we had a sleepover, she was laying infront of the other side of the door when we woke , and because of the way the door was, we couldn’t get through.

So my genius solution was to climb out the window (this was on the second floor) , Cha-Cha real smoothed to the nearest other window, go through there, and lure the dog away with a treat.

It worked.

Silver: Went to this make your own dipped popsicle thing with a good friend of mine, and watched in pure horror as she got a mango popsicle dipped in dark chocolate and rolled in fruity pebbles.

Another one: I was at a Sleepover and there was this tent like thing that was meant for tiny people (aka me, not really it was for toddlers but I was small enough to fit at the time), and at some point in the middle of the night, someone tripped on the tent and it entirely collapsed on me, and not only did I sleep through it, I ended up being the last person to wake up because they all saw the tent collapsed and assumed I was already awake.

Also I was camping once and I rolled away from my tarp and somehow down a road, and my friend said when she found me there was just several butterflies and caterpillars on me. I originally didn’t know but I found a caterpillar on my head that morning and apparently it was poisonous (I was fine and I named him Bob)

Sebek: I was in an escape room with some friends, and I discovered that a key we had gotten in the very beginning worked on another lock, so I did that, and later one of my loud friends finds a key and is SPIRALING because she can’t find what it unlocks for like 30 minutes, and after several minutes I realized, unintentionally slammed my hand on a desk and screamed “OH SHIT.” with zero context.

That experience was actually my first time in a escape room with friends, and not my family or a bunch of drunk strangers in suits + my concerned mother.

Second years : My friends in the priorly mentioned group consisted of who I’ll call N, who was doing 70% of the work, we had R, who was angrily searching for the lock to the key, we had T, the birthday boi, who was randomly making jokes about the 1930s, S, who genuinely forgot he had a key item in his pocket, and A, who dramatically serenaded the paintings after misinterpreting a clue and me, who kept accidentally unlocking shit ahead of time.

Third Years: Prior to the other mentioned event, we had gone to a small improv event that ended up being just us, and the poor guy running it kept giving us scenarios and random conditions which we would absolutely make the craziest shit from.

If I remember correctly, one of the skits was we were supposed to be a school board, and the condition was when someone said an idea, you had to say yes.

The result? a organ harvesting business thats front was a school, and everytime someone got detention, one organ of theirs was sold, and the funds went into funding the biogenetically engineered creation of Hatsune Miku and Cat Boys.

For some reason this skit also led somehow into atomic glitter and cocaine missiles, selling souls on Ebay with express shipping, using Sephora Products and Instagram to spread our propaganda, making meme complications of our crimes, and nuking the Bermuda Triangle.

Ask no questions because I have no answers.

——————————-

Yea thats it for now! Enjoy!

:3

[book4air]

Social Media: https://linktr.ee/book4air

Fire Lord Zuko’s struggle to reform the Fire Nation and maintain peace continues. Now he believes that to help his people, he must first set things right with his family. But the only way to do so is to team up with his lifelong enemy and occasional tenuous ally: his sister Azula.

With the help of Avatar Aang and friends, can the royal fire siblings find their mother? And even if they do, what will become of their family and their nation? Do some scars run too deep to ever heal?

Enjoy our adaptation of “The Search” with brand new original scenes and story changes that may surprise even the most devoted comics fans!

Want to see the original version? Please support the official release.

Showrunners @somethingwithther @prying-pandora666

Based on 'The Search' by Dark Horse Comics Additional Writing by Lucía Lobosvilla

'Not A Messenger' by @venusdegoat Scene adapted with permission Support the full comic https://tapas.io/series/Not-A-Messenger/info

Art Team Artists: Melissa Palacios, @samleewins, @rick-orange Letterers: Sam Lee Wins, Melissa Palacios, Ryoma Ishizuka, Austro Calligraphy: Cherry Cheuk Yu Chang Translator: Yvette Su

Audio Team Head Engineer: Sam Gabriel Line Placement: Valravn Mixing Engineer: Ryoma Ishizuka, TheTVBunny (Elise Lepley), Kurt Cañez Mastering: Kim Morton

Video Team Head Engineer: Ryoma Ishizuka Editors: TheRealizer367 (Walter Vitola), Curtiscreatesstuff, Hazco Fox, PhantomSavage, Astrid Ev, franky1581

Music Team Music Director: James A. Reilly Composers: James A. Reilly, Aneesh Kashalikar, Mark 'Nowa' Taylor, Ty Porter

Voice Team Voice Directors: Lucía Lobosvilla, Anthony Rodriguez Casting: Ryoma Ishizuka, Lucía Lobosvilla

Voice Cast Aang - @somethingwithther Katara - @sometimesstephstuff Sokka - Grant Corvin Toph - @muslimsupersaiyan Zuko - Cade Watts Azula - @prying-pandora666 Iroh - D. Tyler Fultz Appa & Momo - Josh Lee Ursa - @charaito Ikem - Anthony Rodriguez Ozai - Jakob Dillon Suki - @queen-mickey-the-sass-master Ty Lee - Heidi Tabing Kota - James A. Reilly Kenji - Ash Rucker Ezo - Nichelle Phillips Professor Phom Lee - John Archer II Eula - Iris Azulon - Edward Hong Rina - Sara Dunham Jinzuk - Dylan Rasbold Guard - Jazzy Oliver Kid Zuko - Mel Valentine Baby Zuko - Victoria C. McMullen Additional Voices True Blue Grant Corvin Kauthar Harrak-Sharif Lucía Lobosvilla James A. Reilly Heidi Tabing Cade Watts Ara’digm Wong

Promo Bumper Animated by ‪@samleewins Voice of Sokka by Grant Corvin Video Editing by Ryoma Ishizuka Audio Editing by Sam Gabriel Mastering by Kim Morton Special Thanks Book 4 Restoration Project Team Dark Horse Comics Nickelodeon Gene Luen Yang Gurihiru Avatar Wiki Ara’digm Wong The Flying Opera Company Productions KikwishhArt Dave Roman Kevin Coppa Baby Lion Turtle Aaron Ehasz Bryan Konietzko Michael Dante DiMartino AND YOU Produced by Staff And Seer Studios, LLC.