#but actually though he’s really fun 10/10

[fireladyofink]

Oh God.. uuhhhh.. been a minute since I tried one of these..

Skipping 1, hate first person, just can't do it, not even read it.

2 is 100% Andlàtkyn. There's some issues here and there but it will always be my pride and joy.

Due to not posting on AO3 (even though I really should be), 3 is mostly ineffective. Except Wattpad has tags. I'd say UTAU, dragons and crossover.

4, lol. Literally. Lately I keep using that (only when texting others) and it's bothering me. I feel like a simpleton because of how much I'm saying that, eugh.

5 I've honestly learned a lot while researching fics. For one, I found out lantana berries are toxic to humans yet taste like blueberries, and I have them growing in my backyard. They're actually my favorite plant! I love their flowers; so pretty, and they have such a uniquely funky smell as well. Part of why I adore them, it stands out so much without being a bad smell. And the leaves have a sort of citrus smell? I love lantanas.

6 I don't know. I've thought about requests due to the money, but I feel like I'd either struggle to start writing it or get carried away with it- or straight up not finish in a reasonable timeframe. Commissions? Like art commissions? Maybe in a few years when I'm more confident in my skills and also somehow have a drawing tablet to properly draw digitally. Something like that.

7 Either or. I love making sickeningly sweet coffee or various different teas.

8 Is honestly hard to decide! Off the top of my head I can think of Dust initially meeting Killer with the hilariously absurd question of "What do you mean you don't have a mouth? How are you speaking right now? Your ass?"

9 Believe it or not it was basically when I first got a phone and commented a short story in the comments of a YouTube video. Someone replied with a suggestion of Wattpad. The rest is history, lol.

10 Off the top of my head I can't think of anything beyond something very specific for the fic I've been thinking about again lately, Ninjagaësia. Only time I've written outside of the UT fandom too, I specifically want to get around to writing that version of Zane more. What I had planned for him is fun as hell. An absolute badass.

11 Lots of comments, votes and people enjoying it. Which, continuing the above mention, Ninjagaësia doesn't qualify for. Pretty unsuccessful, but for once I don't really care.

12 Undertale AU's. I doubt I'll ever leave, either.

13 No. Hell, my ultimate fic of Andlàtkyn was written throughout the later half of highschool. I am technically working on an original story on the sidelines, I call it my worldbuilding project because I'm building up so much lore in this world before I actually touch on the story itself outside of a vague idea. About 60-ish different species of people, including the were-diseases. Last I counted, anyway. I'll be working on it for years, I know it, and I don't mind that either.

14 Comments talking about my fics on said fics. Actual interactions! It brings me joy. 🧡

15 My family is well aware. I don't bring up a lot of details but the last time I went into vague detail with my mother it was over a scene in Andlàtkyn (no direct spoilers) and she interpreted it weirdly and now she teases me by asking if I'm killing babies again! A bit awkward..

16 Actually finishing a damn story. I don't mind the periods of no writing until I get inspired again, but what annoys me is when I can't seem to finish anything. Only ever finished Andlàtkyn. I still have yet to write anything for the sequel to it, either! Zeradelsída is still just a bunch of loose plot points..

17 I am semi successfully writing benevolent eldritch horror. It doesn't intend harm, but it is truly.. horrifying nonetheless. The uncertainty of someone knowing he died, feeling his own heart stop beating, and feeling something OTHER seep inside and force it to start again, pulsing in his veins, fusing with his anatomy, permanently altering both him and itself into something completely unknowable.. I'm rambling. Anyone who hasn't seen my Wattpad, read Awakened. If you don't mind ridiculously long fics, read Andlàtkyn too!

18 I have at least 7 I mostly expect to finish, with at least 4 others just kind of.. there. I don't think I've posted any of those, either. I also have ideas inspired by dreams that I'd love to write down someday, though don't really expect to actually codify.

19 I kind of just don't. I work on different projects as the inspiration hits, take a backseat for a month or so, then come back to either the same project or a different one.

20 Hmmm.. Hard to think of something specific. I'm leaning towards stuff in Andlàtkyn. I don't really have a favorite kiss scene because I don't do romance. I write adventure! Andlàtkyn has some side romance though- not that any of it is my favorite. Platonic stuff, though.. I'd say my favorite is honestly Lust and Alter incidentally befriending each other and becoming venting buddies. It's the cutest thing, their friendship is adorable and wholesome despite the background angst. I didn't write nearly as much of them as deserved.

21 Honestly it's mostly lack of inspiration that I'm pretty sure stems from depression. If I could get an ADHD prescription or depression meds I'd probably be a lot better but like. I am completely broke. So much so that those issues aren't even in the top 10 of pressing problems solved with money.

22 Given I've literally only done it once.. not really. I guess I post it around everywhere I can think of in excitement?

23 That one continuous dream I had that went on over a month centered on a Nightmare that was freshly corrupted. He was honestly so nerdy and adorable despite putting on the brave and mildly "evil" front. The boy. Him. Goddamnit I want to write that at some point.

24 Honestly I can't think of anything for this one.

25 Oh yeah, I can't think of anything off the top of my head but there's a lot I'd like to fix in all of my stories, lol.

26 Kind of? It's a more recent development, did it for Zeradelsída which still has yet to be written, did it for that Ninjagaësia too. A little bit of a broad, even vaguer outline for things I want to happen in Awakened, too? More like events, no particular order or connection.

27 A few of those WIP's that haven't been posted... Okay technically just one. There's also the very first fic I wrote that is subsequently the only one I've ever deleted.

28 Angstiest often coincides with cursed for some reason, so I'll just go with the ending of Andlàtkyn for the Apple Twins.

29 I kind of just.. don't. If I do, I start hating everything, and because I'm not THAT bad at spelling and grammar I think it's mostly fine the way it is.

30 Oh absolutely. It's particularly obvious when one looks at Andlàtkyn, which I wrote over the course of 4 years. Really neat transition, if I ever manage to do it, I'd rewrite the beginning a little to match the rest when crossposting to AO3. If I ever get around to that.

31 Again, Andlàtkyn. That fic is my baby, man. It's so precious to me.

32 Honestly I don't know for this one, which is weird.

33 100% Ink of Awakened. My little boy. I have some friends that would rib the hell out of me if they ever found out, lol. Thankfully the main one doesn't even remember that he has a Tumblr.

34 I was not expecting how hard of a question this is! I thought it was Andlàtkyn, but thinking about it.. I don't think so? It might simply just change depending on which one I'm currently fixated on, but at the moment I think my favorites to get that on is Awakened and Ninjagaësia, second of which already has basically nothing to begin with.

35 I don't have anything, oof.

Fanfic/Author Ask Game

Write a scene from [insert fic] in another character’s POV

Which of your fics is your pride and joy?

What are your top three most commonly used tags on AO3?

What are some words or phrases you feel like you overuse?

What’s something you learned while researching a fic?

Would you ever accept requests or commissions?

Coffee or tea while you write?

What is your favorite line/section from [insert fic]?

How did you get into writing fanfiction?

Is there a character or ship you'd love to write for, but haven't yet?

What makes a fic 'successful' in your opinion?

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Do you have an 'official' creative writing background such as a degree or previous experience publishing?

What makes you happiest? New fic comments, kudos, bookmarks, user subscribers, story subscribers, or Tumblr asks?

Does anyone you know in real life know you write fanfiction?

What do you struggle with most when writing?

What is something you recently felt proud of in your writing?

How many WIPs do you have and how many do you expect to finish?

How do you get over writer's block?

Share your favorite kiss scene from [insert fic]. If there's no kiss scene, share your favorite moment of intimacy (romantic or platonic)

What stops you from writing more in your free time?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

Which scene/theme was the inspiration for [insert fic]?

Are there any moments in [insert fic] that feel "blurry" to you? Is this a stylistic choice, or would you go back and clarify the descriptions if you were given the chance?

Do you ever "prep" your fics with outlines or warmups before you start writing, or do you just dive right in?

Are any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

What's the angstiest idea you've ever come up with?

How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

Have you noticed your style change over time?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

A character you enjoy making suffer.

A character you want to protect.

What is your favorite fic to get comments/messages on?

Wild Card: Ask me something else!

[blueishspace]

Hermitshift/EmpiresShift 5

Joel (Tango's role)

(Dungeon Master + Regular)

Naturally brunette, the weird hair colour is entitely for the cool aesthetic.

Joined Hermitcraft all the way back in season 2 making him one of the oldest members, don't call him old though he's in his thirties and gets self concious about it.

Usually hangs out with Mumbo, Cub and Scar.

Used to be pretty bad at redstone but being in Hermitcraft for years has definitely changed that as anyone who has played decked out will attest.

Has a tendency to get overly careless mad in the life series and accidentally exploding himself trying to get kills.

Tango (Mumbo's role)

(Mooner + Regular)

Resident mad inventor.

Also joined in season 2 of Hermitcraft.

The machinations of his mind truly are an enigma.

Why does he keep getting thrust on positions of power? He really has redstone he should be working on and yet everyone wants to put in charge of something.

"It's pretty simple actually".

Tie is made of fire, do not grab it.

He's old, of course he's making a plan to transfer his conciousness into another body to live forever.

Mumbo (Zed's role)

(Is that sheep looking at me? + Regular)

Joined the Hermitcraft server back in season 5.

What if, and hear me out, the mad scientist had social anxiety.

Will put you in a death trap to see you struggle to escape and eventually give up and accept your demise though, do not be fooled by the facade.

Why did he decide to do a game show when he doesn't like being the centre of attention? In his defense it was a funny idea and when he realized he was going to have to be the host it was too late to go back.

Not associated with Potatoman, the potato looking crime fighting vigilante...totally.

Zedaph (Shubble's role)

(Storm witch + Regular)

Yes, he does dye his hair...or well, used to, ever since he had to leave his home he hasn't had the chance. The roots are growing back in pretty quickly.

Listen, when he escaped his own dimension bringing along a terrifying demon wasn't in the plan...accident happen sometimes... especially to him.

Got kicked out of the witches academy for "unethical experiments" and "unsupervised production of illegal drugs" and "magical being rights violations".

And then got possessed by an evil moss that took over his body...fun.

At least the goddess Gem brought him under her wing and tbought him all about storm magic.

Shubble (Jevin's role)

(Holiday+ Regular)

Joined in Hermitcraft season 2 ...wich looking at it now is the same season most of the previously mentioned characters joined.

Just a chill gal.

Not really, she's a mess, but if she pretends to be chill then no one will know. (Everyone, literally everyone knows).

She just can't believe she has to be the one to host the Hermitcraft christmas Secret Santa. Everyone is so busy lately, someone has to bring some sense of community to the server and if no one else steps foward she will.

Hates the Poe-Poe, she liked her definitely permanent totally not pop up shop she 100% did not forget to finish. Started the APAC (All Poe-poe Are Cringe).

IJevin (Beef's role)

(New outfit + Old outfit)

For a slime having slime on your shirt is much the same as a human having blood on theirs.

Joined Hermitcraft in season 4.

Somehow got involved into the fish mob and Big Salmon™, if you find him with fish swimming inside his slime don't question it... Unless you want to get involved with that too.

Made the Hermits trading card game in season 9, it got him so stressed and tired his slime started to lose viscosity and melt randomly. (Like a certain other slime in a different mcyt smp after being pushed into lava but...less intense) the others had to host an intervantion and take over the card production in season 10.

[basu-shokikita]

For the kiss thing ik this might not be a great pairing buuuuut 45 for Murderface and Nathan?

You're good anon, I did ask for MTL ships 😊

From this ask meme

45. (Kiss) out of anger

On the evening of his birthday, Nathan had said to Murderface that he could have anything he wanted. When Murderface asked what anything meant, Nathan simply repeated 'anything' with thinly veiled exasperation.

Murderface was caught off guard because the band wasn't usually this nice to him, and he said he needed time to think it over. Impatiently, Nathan left his room and Murderface was left to his own devices.

He knew he had to take advantage of this opportunity and request something that would normally be denied to him. Maybe to turn them into their slaves or something, so they couldn't request any of his wishes. He could even dress them up and they wouldn't even be able to say no. Or maybe he could force them to get a really ugly hairstyle so they would never make fun of his hair again.

Wait, he wasn't supposed to be better than this now. He was supposed to be 'nicer' or something. Ugh, such bullshit.

After much consideration, Murderface thought of something that didn't involve humiliating his bandmates beyond belief. Something that he would actually value. But he couldn't just walk up to them and say it, so he figured he'd tell Nathan since he was the leader and everything.

And, so, he left his room and started his search for the vocalist. It might have been around half an hour when he finally found him in the living room, chatting with Pickles and sporting a beer in his hand.

"Nathan," He said. "I finally thought of schomethin-"

"Yeah, yeah, just give me a second." Nathan cut him off and kept talking with Pickles.

Murderface frowned. Okay, it's not it was his fucking birthday they were talking about or anything but sure. He could wait.

Already irritated, he took a seat next to Nathan and waited for Nathan to grace him with his attention. Unfortunately, the guy seemed to have other plans because the minutes kept passing and he wasn't showing signs of slowing down the conversation. Instead, he ordered more beers from the Klokateers to Pickles' evident approval.

Eventually, Murderface cleared his throat, though Nathan didn't even throw him a glance. Instead, he kept going on about unfortunate accidents in the bedroom with groupies while Pickles cackled at the bizarre anecdotes.

He cleared his throat again and this time Pickles tilted his head at him before returning his attention to Nathan. Seriously? Did no one remember what he came here for?!

The third time, he coughed loudly so that the conversation was audibly interrupted by the noise. Finally, Nathan turned to him only to shake his head and keep talking to the drummer. Okay, this was just ridiculous. Murderface began fake-retching like a cat with a hairball stuck in his throat. It was a pretty fine impersonation in his humble opinion.

"What the fuck, Murderface?!" Nathan glared at him when Murderface performed a convulsion on the table.

"About fucking time!" He threw his hands into the air. "I've been waiting, you know!"

"It's been like 5 minutes, man!"

"Are you scheriousch?! I've been here for hoursch!"

"Uh, no it's definitely been like 5 minutes, dood." Pickles intervened. "Maybe 10." He conceded.

Murderface squinted at them, wondering if they were trying to fuck with him. There was no way it had been that little, he felt like he had been sitting in the couch for an entire lifetime. "Whatever. I know what I want for my birthday now."

"What is it." Nathan was deadpan.

Murderface inhaled deeply, but realized he felt self-conscious. "Can we talk about it privately, I don't really-"

"No, you were so impatient to tell me so just fucking do it." Nathan took a gulp of his new beer.

"I really would prefer if-"

"Just say it."

""Well, it'sch a bit of a schenschitive-"

"Murderface." Nathan gave him The Look. "Just say it."

"Fine!" Murderface felt himself getting sweaty. "I-I want a kisch, okay!"

Nathan and Pickles blinked at him for several instants. "What." They said in unison.

"I schaid I want schome lip on lip action!" Murderface insisted, refusing to give up at this point. "S-Scho give it to me!"

Flabbergasted, Nathan threw Pickle a glance. "What do we do?"

Pickles raised an eyebrow at Nathan. "I mean, he's talking to ya, dood."

"What? No, he's telling us-"

"Uh, yeah, I'm talking to you, Nate."

"You are?!" Nathan was turning more and more pale by the second. Jeez. "A-Are you sure, I mean, you know you can pick, right?" He gestured at Pickles. "There's Pickles and-"

"Hey!"

"Skwisgaar and Toki...?" Nathan winced while reciting the names.

"But you're the one that told me." Murderface insisted and Nathan held his face in his hands. "Jeschusch, it'sch not like I'm gonna fall in love with you or schomethin'! It'sch juscht a kisch!"

"Yeah, Nathan," Pickles elbowed him with a chuckle. "Stop being a big baby about it."

"Yeah!"

"I'm not!"

"Just give the birthday boy his birthday kiss." Pickles sipped from his beer.

"I just don't understand why-"

"Stop whinin', man."

"Yeah, what are you, gay?!" Murderface interjected and Nathan glared at him.

"Fine." He said between gritted teeth before pointing at Pickles. "But I won't forget this."

"Pssht." Pickles crossed his legs and rested his chin in his hand, clearly amused. "Forgaht the consequences of yer own actions?"

Nathan huffed as he faced Murderface. Suddenly, the atmosphere in the living room was different. "Well, come here."

Uninterested in questioning Nathan's bossy tone, Murderface did as told and sat closer to him. Nathan was still glaring at him which was, well, intimidating to say the least. "Can you-"

"Shut up." Nathan furrowed his brows before his eyelids slowly closed. He breathe deeply as if attempting to calm himself. Murderface could feel his heartbeat accelerate. It belatedly occurred to him this was a very gay thing to request.

Then again, he was working on being more honest about himself.

Suddenly, Nathan's fists balled around Murderface's shoulders, gripping them with the strength of a thousand men. He tried his very best not to gasp, opting to inhale shakily instead. If he wasn't so damn nervous, he would've told Pickles to stop cackling because it was annoying.

"Stop shaking!" Nathan said, though his eyes were still closed and it took a moment for Murderface to assess he was talking to him.

"Scho-Schorry..." He muttered.

Somehow, the apology annoyed Nathan further. "Don't-" He winced. "Okay." He exhaled one last time before he started dipping his head in Murderface's direction.

It was as if it was too fast while simultaneously being too slow. Murderface was seeing his entire life flash before his eyes as Nathan's face drew closer to him. Quick, he had to do something, he had to be ready, he had to-

"Woah." He heard Pickles say before he realized Nathan's lips were pressed against his own. He blinked in shock, only barely being able to make out Nathan's expression from the non-existence distance between them.

Murderface closed his eyes too, and they remained awkwardly still for a while there before Nathan pulled away. When he opened his eyes again, he encountered an unusually flustered Nathan, red pinks and everything. It made him do a double take.

Was Nathan supposed to be cute?

"Well." Nathan stood straight, looking down at him.

"Well?" Murderface repeated.

"How was it." Nathan was trying to appear imposing though he seemed expectant instead.

"Oh." Murderface glanced at the ceiling in deep thought. "It wasch...okay?"

Pickles broke into laughter in the background, holding his belly hysterically.

"What?! Are you serious?!" Nathan yelled, standing up.

"What? I mean- It'sch not like anything happened!" Murderface defended himself. "Unlesch we do it agai-"

"No fucking way!" Nathan walked away furiously.

"Wha- Where are you going?!" Murderface asked, even more baffled than before.

"Maybe next year, eh?" Pickles shook his head, still smiling. "Fuckin' amazin'..." He mumbled before finishing his beer.

Aghast, Murderface watched Nathan's silhouette disappear through the corridor.

Not too bad for a birthday gift, he guessed...

[sometimesanalice]

I just loved getting to read your thoughts! It’s always so fun to see the things that stand out the most to people!

More for you!

Ok, so I try something new. Kinda like a life comment while reading, let's see how it goes.— thank you for taking the time to write your thoughts out and share with me!!

Sweetie the effort is great, but that's why you google the places you go to. I feel so bad for reader though. A warning would have been nice. Hopefully, at least her date is appreciating the effort...— bless her!! The one time she decided to throw cation into the wind, it boomeranged and hit her right back in her face! I tried to fold in ways that showed how she was usually a planner, but trying something new (like the way she was stressed about not knowing the drinks menu and what to order). And then juxtapose how out of place she felt under the circumstances at the beginning, compared to the end with Bradley and how much more at ease she is because of him making her feel that way.

Bradley the cavalry comes to the rescue. At least the Valentine's day is getting a little better. Ok, I correct myself. It's getting a hell of a lot better. “Because if I’m being honest, if that asshole had actually shown up, I don’t know if I would have played fair.” Really Mr. Bradshaw? You wanna make me melt in my seat or what?— that man is all gas no brake!! There’s nothing subtle about him in the least! And it makes for so much fun! 🤭🤭🤭

“Good to know they still work, I wasn’t sure if I still had it.” Oh please. You are a 20/10.— cheeky boy!!

Ok. He gets her a ring on date one. If that's not the most romantic thing ever I don't know what is.— I’d be in an absolute FULL SWOON

“I take it you know, Malibu Ken?” The way I burst out into laughter at this perfect description of Hangman... even my dog gave me the side-eye for disturbing her sleep. Also, the annoying younger brother energy I am getting from this is priceless.— Hangman is a MENACE! Like let the man flirt with a pretty girl! 😂 he definitely deserved his new moniker!

I am so proud of reader for grilling Hangman with such grace. You go girl.— she was such a queen! She was like, I’ll just show you how it’s done 💅🏻

Also, that move with the dating app. Good god Rooster is just such a romantic and I'm living for it. I loved every second of their banter and the amount of times I've sat here awwing or kicking my feet while I giggle might be a bit alarming but I loved every second of it. This was such a wonderful read and I sure as hell will come back to this one quite often. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.— ahhh!! Oh that makes me so happy you liked this!! That dating app bit was a last minute burst of inspo and I’m so glad that I decided to include it because I love just the extra mile he went with that! 🤭

GIF by muvana

To you, for writing this masterpiece and to cute paper rings and milkshakes with two straws— 🥂🥂🥂

For the Plot

Summary: Things aren't looking too good for you, sitting alone at the Hard Deck waiting for a man who might not show. Until Bradley Bradshaw sits down across from you and turns your entire night upside down.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Length: 7.7k

Warnings: fluff, so much flirting, and an italicized oh

Going on a first date on Valentine’s Day is unarguably the worst possible idea that anyone has ever had.And while the sure to be terrible, no good, horribly bad idea hadn’t been yours, you weren’t entirely sure what you were thinking when you’d even agreed to it in the first place.

The guy you were planning to meet tonight was cute enough, even if you were still undecided about the mustache. And while the chats between the two of you had been pretty good as far as it goes getting to know a literal stranger, you were hopeful that it could be even better in person. The fact he was in the Navy was still a bit of a consideration for you, but not a deal breaker.

In retrospect, the name of the bar should have been your first clue and the location paired with the causal beachy exterior covered in planes should have been the second.

You had been expecting to see more than one girl all done up in pinks and reds tonight, but you couldn’t have been more wrong. And you swear to god, somewhere you hear a record scratch as you step into the Hard Deck, because you are surrounded by nothing but a sea of olive green and khaki and denim.

And you have never been so clearly out of place in your entire life.

There was nothing about your ensemble that was even remotely fitting for the literal Navy bar you’d found yourself in.

The ice pink mini slip dress you’d dug out of your closet was admittedly a little much for a first date, but since it was Valentine’s Day you figured why not lean into it a bit. And well, if your date didn��t appreciate it, then that was a him problem.

Or so you’d thought at the time, because now it was a decidedly you problem.

The silhouette was simple enough, with the gentle drape of the cowl neck and the barely-there spaghetti straps, but the shiny sheen of the fabric made a statement of its own. It wasn’t something you got to wear very often for as much as you loved it.

But then you’d gone ahead and paired it with the tallest, most ostentation heels you had. The effort had been worth it though because the pearl encrusted block heels made your legs look like they went on for days. Even if it had been a feat trying to get the dainty buckle done with the way you’d been rushing out of the house with your beaded bag in tow.

The whole look was something you’d sure would come with Cher Horowitz’s seal of approval. However, the patrons of the Hard Deck you were less sure about. And even though there were civilians- like yourself- scattered about the bar, none were anywhere near as dressed up as you.

There are more than a few pairs of eyes on you as you stand there with your feet glued to the uneven wooden floors, as the door with its porthole-shaped window slowly closes behind you with a squeaky creak. The twinkle lights above your head felt more like a spotlight, illuminating how out of place you are in this moment.

Your hand is still clutched on the handle unsure whether you’re going to make a run for it or not. You are more than a little tempted to hightail it back to the parking lot and text your date to claim a bout of food poisoning from the safety of the driver’s seat in your car.

But chances are if your date is here then he has already seen you. A bright beacon of pink amongst varying shades of brown and woodgrain.

“Oh my god,” you mutter under your breath, trying not to panic. Officially a victim of your own bad decision making.

You take a quick scan of the room, trying to decide what your next move should be. There’s a woman behind the bar with kind but clearly inquisitive eyes. A blonde with a wolfish smile eyes you from where he stands next to a man with broad shoulders bent over what must be the pool table, hidden behind the paneled half wall. By a dart board, there are a couple men with their heads turned towards you, the game seemingly forgotten as they discuss the spectacle that is you.

There are hundreds of planes dangling over the bar, patches and plaques littering the walls and rafters, rounders suspended from the ceiling laden with too many ceramic mugs to count. It was all done with a heavy-handed, maximalistic approach that you’d take a moment to appreciate under any other given circumstances.

When you spot an open table tucked away in the corner of the room it feels like life raft to the iceberg of a situation you’ve put yourself in. Mindful of the scuffed, uneven floors- because the last thing you need is to eat shit or twist an ankle in front of room full of curious onlookers- you hustle over to the spot in hopes of having a moment to regroup.  

Once you’re situated- shrugging off the ivory cardigan you’d topped your outfit, trying to keep the nervous sweat that wanted to break out over your body at bay- you pull out your phone and check the time only to realize you’re devastatingly on time. Five minutes early, to be specific.

So you wait.

And check your phone again and the notifications in the dating app, just in case you missed something.

And wait.

You try to play it cool, skimming posts on Instagram and replying to some overdue texts. Finding anything you can to keep yourself occupied to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach the longer you sit there. Alone.

Now you’re not just simply embarrassed, you’re mortified.

You can still feel the eyes, the energy steadily shifting from curiosity to sympathy over the last thirty minutes you’ve been waiting all alone in the corner of a Navy bar you had no business being in for a man who clearly wasn’t going to show.

So much for doing it for the plot, you think to yourself with a shake of your head.

Another minute ticks by with no message and you decide you’re more than ready to hightail it out of there. Fully aware that you’re about to become a topic of conversation that won’t have to be restricted to only covert glances and muffled whispers. But hopefully, they’ll at least wait until the door closes behind you before the chatter starts up for real.

With a sigh, you reach for your beaded bag, just as a large body slips into the chair across from you, with an ease that is in contrast to the bulk of muscles you catch in your peripheral vision.

“You look like you’re in need of a date,” a warm, raspy voice offers.

It’s the smile that you catch first. Not quite a grin, but something familiar and friendly and charming in the way it crookedly pulled to the left. Followed closely by the rich chocolate brown eyes that were squarely trained on you with a look that was just as earnest as it was playful. But what surprised you the most was the way he was sitting in the stool across from you just as comfortably as if he was supposed to be there all along.

There was no way you could have prepared yourself for the sheer level of attractiveness of this man.

He was in a league of his own with those curls and wide shoulders. The white and olive green stripped crochet shirt he was wearing didn’t hurt either, especially the way the top buttons were undone giving you glimpse of a chain around his neck and the chest underneath it. He didn’t need to be in uniform- or even in a Navy bar- for you to tell he was a military man. Not with the confident way he held himself.

Even if the mustache he was sporting made it feel like the universe was playing tricks on you, but he more than wore it well.

You huff out a self-deprecating laugh. “What gave it away?” you ask. “The way I’ve been watching the door? Or just the general look of regret and embarrassment?”

“Embarrassed? What do you have to be embarrassed about?” His eyebrows pull together, perplexed. He shakes his head like he disagrees with even the suggestion of it. “I think the only person who should be embarrassed is the guy who is missing out on sitting across from you right now.”

You give him a soft smile of your own in return for the cinnamon sweet words. There’s a genuineness in his tone that makes some of the tightness that had settled in your shoulders from the moment you’d walked in release.

“That’s kind of you, but I think I’m going to head out,” you say, nodding to the door you never should have stepped through in the first place.

He gives you a teasing tsk. “And let a dress like that go to waste? Now that would be a shame.”

The appreciative look in his gaze that sets off a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. And then his eyebrow ticks up, just a little. Part invitation, part dare. And you can’t say you’re not intrigued.

There’s a decision to make.

You could leave now and cut your losses. There was a reason you had a back-up pizza in the fridge and had left you well-loved copy of You’ve Got Mail sitting out on your coffee table.

Or you could stick around and see what happens next.

You tilt your head at him, just as teasing. “Would it now?”

“It would,” he states, sincerely.

Before you can reply, your phone lights up with a new notification, pulling you out of the whisky haze you’d found yourself in. 

His eyes dip down to your illuminated screen. “Is that him?”

“It is,” you confirm, almost regretfully. You open the app and skim the message. And then read it again.

There’s no sorry, no apology for cancelling a half an hour after the time for the date that had been his idea in the first place. And then he’d even had the audacity to tack on a cavalier maybe another time at the end.

Unbelievable.

He lets out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

“Apparently, I should have been the one to remind him that the fourteenth of February is a calendar holiday and a fan favorite day of the greeting card companies.” It’s so ridiculous you’d laugh if you weren’t so annoyed by the lack of consideration and the not-so-subtle blame he’d tried to shift on you. “Even though I did double check if he was sure about meeting up today, I guess I didn’t realize I actually needed to spell out ‘Valentine’s Day’ for him.”

The man across from you doesn’t bother holding back the less than impressed look on his face. And you decide you like that about him, that he wears his thoughts so openly. It’s refreshing.

“Do you mind if I take a look at his profile?”

You shrug and pass your phone over. You were planning on blocking West the second you had a moment anyways. You see him roll his eyes and guess it has something to do with the amount of shirtless gym selfies.

He snorts as he scrolls, “Please, his mustache has nothing on mine.”

An amused laugh escapes you. “Are we ranking mustaches now? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry to say that I’d have to give it to Selleck.”

“Fair enough,” he concedes good-naturedly, as he hands you back your phone. “But am I at least a close second?” There’s no mistaking the flirtatious tone in his voice.

You hum and take full advantage of the opportunity to look at him unabashedly, mapping the contours of his face because you can.

To simply call him handsome would be an understatement.

The way the golden light of the sunset is hitting him you catch some sunkissed strands in those soft looking waves of his hair. There’s the beginning of some crinkles around the edges of his eyes. You notice the scars on his face, some that look long healed and others that are still a light pink- like the one on the side of his neck and beneath is ear. And that mustache on him worked for you, one hundred percent.

There’s a playful glint in his eyes as he lets you assess him that leaves no question as to whether or not he’s been flirting with you. You like the way he’s looking at you and the way he’s easily made you forget about being overdressed and how uncomfortable you were even just five minutes ago. You’re having fun. And while you still haven’t answered his question from earlier, you have no doubt that he’d show you a good time if you let him.

“Maybe not a close second, but yours is certainly up there,” you tease.

He grins. “I can work with that.” There’s something about the way he adds on for now that has a spark dancing up along your spine. And then he sticks out his hand, “I’m Bradley.”

It’s a good name. It suits him. It’s one you think you’ll enjoy the way your tongue will curl around the letters of it in your mouth.

When you give him yours in return, he sits up straighter in his seat, like he’s won a small victory.

You don’t doubt that he’s the chivalrous type, the fact that he’s gone out of his way to come over to try and turn this evening around for you says more about him than any dating profile with nonsense questions and overthought answers ever could. But with a man like him, one who’d swoop in to save the night of a stranger because she looks like a damsel in distress, there’s an answer to a question you need to hear first.

“Bradley, this isn’t a pity thing, is it?” You were right, you like the way saying his name feels. You drop your hands into your lap, as you search his eyes. “Because if it is, that’ll make me feel worse than being stood up did.”

The way the words were sitting out and open on the table between the two of you made you feel vulnerable in a way you didn’t like. But you’d rather know now before anything goes further. Doing it for the plot or not, your ego could only take so much bruising in one evening.

He pins you with a look so serious that you feel it down to your toes. “Trust me, this is furthest thing from a ‘pity thing’, as you put it,” Bradley says, his tone slipping down a few gravelly notes. “Because if I’m being honest, if that asshole had actually shown up, I don’t know if I would have played fair.”

Oh.

A thrilling rush of warmth courses through you as your cheeks heat up.

You nod, trying to not look as affected as you feel. “Ok, I believe you.”

“Good,” he smirks, his gaze dropping down and lingering on your lips. You didn’t realize you’d trapped your lower lip between your teeth, you release it immediately. “Because you should know, I would have come over sooner- the second I saw you, actually- if I’d known. That’s some dress, sweetheart,” Bradley continues, “Plus, you’d be doing me a favor.”

You couldn’t help but be curious, so you lean in closer. “Oh, how so?”

Bradley mirrors you, crossing his thick forearms over each other and leans in that much closer. “I haven’t had a Valentine in years,” he says it like he’s letting you in on a secret.

For the first time all night, you don’t regret wearing the dress. You don’t regret the ostentatious shoes or the glimmering beaded bag. You don’t regret walking through that creaky door. You don’t regret showing up tonight.

How could you when you’ve just been served the best plot twist you’ve possibly ever experienced? A meetcute you never could have seen coming.

You realize just how close your faces have gotten and lean back in your seat, from fear of thinking you might do something stupid, like kiss him. “Will you stop with the big cow eyes, if I agree?”

Those crinkles around his eyes deepen, “Good to know they still work, I wasn’t sure if I still had it.”

You press your lips together trying to hide your smile, all too thoroughly charmed, but the corners of your mouth curl up all the same.

“Trust me, you have plenty.”

And Bradley’s own smile gets even wider.

Anyone in the bar can see how pleased with himself he is at your words. It rolls off of him in steady waves and swirls around your shins and ankles.

He makes a show of settling further into his seat, now that it is officially his seat. “What’re we thinking? One milkshake, two straws?”

You play along and pretend to ponder the offer for a moment. “That seems more like a second date type of activity, does it not?”

“You’re right, something to look forward to for next time,” he responds, not missing a beat. “So, can I buy you a drink?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

There wasn’t a menu or anything on the table when you sat down, so you aren’t sure what all is offered here. You thought you might have caught a glimpse of a laminated stack near register when you’d first walked in, but you hadn’t wanted to draw any more attention to yourself at the time by getting up again and wandering around and reminding people just how out of place you’d been.

You look around and see a mix of ceramic steins, pint glasses, beer bottles, and a few stems of wine on tabletops and in the hands of the other patrons.

The noise of the bar had become a faint white noise in your ears as the two of you talked, but it comes back in full force now.

“If they have rosé, I’d take a glass of that.” It isn’t hard to miss the hesitation in your voice, feeling a little silly defaulting to your usual go-to. You don’t imagine they go through a ton of pink wine here. “But, uhm, anything on tap would be fine too, if they don’t.”

Bradley’s lips twitch up. Not in a smirk, but something caught between amused and something else you can’t quite describe.

You try not to fidget under his warm gaze, “What?”

He slides out of his stool and rounds the table, setting a big hand on the armrest near your elbow, “There’s something you should know about me, sweetheart.”

“And what’s that?” you ask, more than a little breathlessly. Feeling a little high off of the smell of his leather and vanilla cologne, and something underneath that that reminds you of kerosene in a way that makes you want to breathe him in even more.

Bradley dips down close, his lips just a whisper from your ear, and murmurs, “Pink is my favorite color.”

Your head tips back on its own as you laugh. Its unabashedly loud and bright and delighted thing that fills the nooks and crannies of the corner you’d tucked yourself away into. And if a few heads turn your way because of it, that’s alright with you.

You don’t believe him, not one little bit. But that’s part of the fun. The back and forth, the flirting, the banter, the teasing. He’s so quickly turned this night around for you, you already know your cheeks are going to hurt by the end of it.

The sound of Bradley’s own laughter chases after yours. It’s warm and raspy and boyish, and you like the sound of it. You like him.

“One rosé, coming up,” he says, giving your shoulder a light squeeze before he steps out of your space. “There’s nothing I like more than a girl who commits to a theme.”

You catch his wrist, his skin warm under your palm. “Wait, what’s it really?”

“Red,” Bradley says, then gives you a slow once over, making your pulse spark in your veins. “But you’ve got me second guessing myself now.” He gives you a wink and then heads towards the bar.

You watch stunned as he saunters away, admiring the way the light wash jeans he’s wearing form to his long legs, before taking a moment to send a string of words punctuated with more than a few exclamation points to the group chat.

When he comes back, only a few minutes later, he has glass of familiar pink wine in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other. And oddly enough, a straw tucked into the pocket on his shirt.

“It’s almost a perfect match,” he notes, when he sets it in front of you.

“At least I won’t have to worry about staining if I end up spilling on myself.”

Bradley chuckles and moves his stool in closer to yours, sitting back down with more smooth grace than a man with his build has any right to move. He tips the neck of his beer towards you, and you lightly tap your wine glass against it.

You take a sweet sip. “So.”

“So,” he repeats, with a teasing lift of his eyebrow.

“What’s your move?” you ask, running a glossy tipped finger around the rim of your wineglass.

“My move?” And there’s that grin again, one he doesn’t try to hide as he takes a sip of his own.  “‘m pretty sure I’ve been showing you my moves since I sat down. I’ve never been good at being subtle.”

Bradley pulls the straw from his pocket and taps it a few times against the shellacked woodgrain table top. He takes the flimsy wrapper carefully starts twisting it, a little furrow of concentration forms between his brows, spiraling it until it’s pulled taut against itself.  

You set an elbow on the edge, resting your chin on your hand as you study him. “But what’s the big move? I know you have one,” you press further.

His hands are big, calloused and rough, but capable. You want to know the story behind the scar that’s near the base of his thumb. You note that he wears his watch on the right instead of the left, and you pocket that new discovery for yourself the way a kid enthusiastically collects rocks in a park.

Bradley takes that piece of paper and folds it in half before twisting it again.

You watch in fascination as that pleased grin transforms into a confident smirk, like he’s enjoying even just the thought of showing you his big move. He looks like good trouble.

Bradley’s eyes slowly lift to yours, his hands pausing whatever he’s doing with that wrapper. He shoots a thumb to the left towards the end of the oval shaped bar. “You see that piano over there?”

“Mhm.” It’s an almost purr.

“That’s my big move.”

You feel your eyebrows lift in surprise. Bradley gave off such hometown golden boy vibes, you’d never have expected that he’d be the musical type too. The idea of seeing those hands fly over a set of black and white piano keys made your stomach tighten deliciously in anticipation.

“Am I going to get to see it?”

His gaze is steady on you when he replies, “Yeah, sweetheart, I’ll show you my move.”

A grin stretches across your face and you feel downright giddy, as you wiggle your shoulders in triumph.

Bradley shakes his head amused, and then refocuses his efforts on the task he’d started with the straw wrapper. He struggles only for a moment- those large fingers getting in the way- as he tries to open the end just enough to slip the tail though. He gives it one more final twist, securing the loop, before inspecting his handiwork.

“Now, since we’re valentines and all, it seemed only fitting that I get you- well, make you- a little something.” Bradley gives you a soft, boyish smile as he holds out his palm towards you, and in the center of it is a perfectly crafted paper ring. “Sorry, I couldn’t find you a Ring Pop on short notice.”

The words escape you for a moment at the sheer sweetness of the gesture.

Gently, you take it from his outstretched hand, and slip it onto the pointer finger of your right hand, adjusting it with care until you have it situated just right.

“I usually wouldn’t be able to accept something so grand on a first date. But for you, I’ll make an exception,” you say, liltingly. “Thank you, Bradley.”

You look down to appreciate it again, more than a little tempted to take it off and tuck it securely into your purse for safekeeping. For as much as you liked your dress and bag and your shoes, that little paper ring was now your favorite piece of the outfit you were wearing.

When you glance back up at him, his cheeks have the faintest pink hue to them. The little nonchalant shrug he tries to give you does nothing to hide how pleased he looks. “I make a mean daisy chain too. We might have to wait a couple months for Spring, but I’m good for it.”

Your mind flashes with an image of you and him in a park with a picnic basket sat between the two of you, and those large hands of his threading celery green stems together. It’s a pretty picture.

“Well, aren’t you just a regular modern day Renaissance man.”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he rasps, silky smooth. It makes goosebumps raise along your arms. “Now, I’ve told you mine. Can’t say I’m not dying to know what your big move is. Am I going to get to see it, sweetheart?”

“Maybe,” you muse, lifting your glass to take another sip, “If you’re good.”

Bradley hooks a foot under you stool and tugs you just a few inches closer. “Just out of curiosity, what’s your position on kissing on a first date?”

You bend forward towards him and think you hear his breath hitch, you smile. “I’ll keep you posted.”

You’re still looking at his lips when a shout from across the bar startles you both.

“Bradshaw!”

Bradley mutters a string of curses and then blows out a breath, giving you a smoldering look that tells you that the conversation is far from over. You’re more than willing to let him try and change your mind about where he lands in the mustache rankings.

You look over your shoulder to see the with the sharp smile from earlier waving your date over to the pool table. “I take it you know, Malibu Ken?”

“Unfortunately.” A mischievous look coasts over his face. “But I’ll get you all the Ring Pops you could ever want if you say that to his face.”

You laugh. “I’m holding out for that daisy chain.”

Another holler rings out from across the room, the same Southern drawl as before.

“Seems like he wants your attention. Is he a Leo?”

He snorts. “You know what, he just might be. But more like he’s been waiting for the right moment to annoy me since I ditched him to come talk to a pretty girl instead.”

You try not to preen at the compliment.

“The relentless type, huh?”

“You don’t know the half of it. I think I’m about thirty seconds from him queuing up “You Make Me Feel So Young” on repeat just to fuck with me,” Bradley explains. There’s a story there and you want to know more. “I know I still owe you the big move, but is it alright if I try to show off a little for you now? Just to get off my back for the rest of the night, then I’m all yours.”

You feel like you’ve just pulled an ace from your pocket.

“What are the stakes?” you ask, intrigued.

“Two hundred dollars and a whiskey,” Bradley replies.

You let out a low whistle, trying to school the catlike grin that wants to overtake your face. “That’s a lot of Ring Pops.”

The corners of his mouth curl up. “I was thinking dinner for our third date,” he says. “I’m buying for our second, of course. But it’s only right that we split the spoils of war.”

The sound of a brass band rings out over the staticky speakers and Bradley hangs his head down and lets out a long-suffering groan. You playfully pat his shoulder in faux commiseration.

You pretend to consider it for a moment, but you already know your answer. “Okay,” you agree, “Just as long as you’re okay with a little respectful ogling. You like my dress, and I like those jeans you’re wearing.”

He laughs, it’s a throaty rich sound. “I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

You gather for you purse and sweater as Bradley stands. His hands come to your waist, helping you off the chair, your bodies closer than close. It’s a forward move- he knows it, you know it- but with him, you don’t mind at all.

Bradley offers you his hand and you take it in yours; his fingers slip between yours easily like the two of you have already done this before.  

The two of you only make it a few steps before you tug on his hand, waiting until he looks at you from over his shoulder before asking, with a lifted brow, “Bradley Bradshaw?”

He huffs out a not-so-exasperated sigh, “I blame it on the 80’s.”

“Whatever you say, Brad-Brad.” It’s the one and only time you’re ever going to say it, you decide. You like saying his name too much to shorten it. And his back may be turned to you now, but that now familiar chuckle still makes its way to your ears.

Bradley leads you to the bar first, where he buys another glass of rosé and a beer for himself. When you try to pass your credit card to the woman behind the counter, he takes it, and rasps into your ear, “Let me.”

He tucks it right back into your purse as the sound of brass instruments starts up yet again.

“Like a dog with a goddamn bone,” you hear him mumble. And you press your lips together to keep from laughing. Sure, you’d rather be seeing his big move, but you can’t claim not to be amused by all of this.

He nods to a group of people in the corner near the popcorn machine when the two of you enter the alcove with pool table. Some of his other friends of his you assume.

You send them a little wave, one that they return in greeting. You can tell they’re curious, but you’re grateful when they resume their conversation instead of making you feel like your date with Bradley had become a spectator sport for their viewing entertainment.

The first thing Bradley does is introduce you to his friend. It’s a little thing, but he does it without prompt or awkwardly leaving you to take the initiative yourself. You appreciate the way he is still prioritizing your comfort the way he’s been doing it since he first sat down across from you.

The second thing he does is pull out a chair for you. Not with a fanfare, not with a flourish. But like it’s something that’s innately ingrained in him. You get the sense that the gentleman thing isn’t an act with him, it’s who he is.

Jake rests a hip against the table. “Sorry to interrupt your date, but Bradshaw and I had some unfinished business.”

You wave him off, it’s not a big deal. Not when you’ll have the rest of the night with Bradley. Plus, you’re eager to watch this play out between them, curious about their gameplay.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with,” Bradley rumbles, as he arranges the balls in the rack. And you wonder if he lost the lag before he’d made his way over to your table for one.

He comes back over to you, and leans on the ledge next to you as he chalks his cue. You’d thought about slipping your sweater back on, with the outside chill pressing against the line of glass windows at your back, but Bradley had more than enough warmth radiating off of him that you didn’t need to.

“You that eager to be out a couple hundred, Bradshaw?” Jake grins, as he leans over the side of the table. He turns his gaze to you and sends you a wink right before he breaks, sending the cue ball barreling into the others with a resounding clack, scattering them across the table.

And then they’re off.

It’s a rapid fire of back-and-forth banter between the men as they take their shots. Mostly good natured, but undeniably competitive. Smirking when they land their shots, and snarking over fouls. Clear that neither of them wants to lose.

Jake is all confident posturing, playing low over the cue with a lightly too tight grip. It’s the only thing that gives him away that he’s not the easygoing player as he wants people to think he is. Choosing higher risk shots that would highlight his ability versus some of the more straightforward options laid out for him, and skilled enough that it pays off most of the time. But after a couple rounds you note he’s too quick to stand up after taking his shot, not enough follow through because he’s too eager to see if his gamble pays off.

Bradley is all loose-limbed ease, clearly comfortable in both his skin and at the table. You can tell he’s probably playing quicker than he normally does, clearly trying to hurry up the game for your sake, even though he doesn’t need to. Although he does take his time as he positions himself around the table, only adjusting his bridge every now and then. Always with a 1-2 shot, a warm-up stroke followed by a steady hit. Watching him you catch his tendency to throw out his elbow of the follow through.

The two are pretty well matched in skill, you observe with keen eyes, as the balls skate across the Top Gun insignia, against the rails, and into pockets.

When Bradley’s not up to play, he’s by your side, right at your elbow. And when he is, it’s your eyes he’s looking into the moment he stands back up, seeking out your reaction. But more than once you feel his eyes on you as you watch them play.

True to your word, you to admire him in those snug fitting jeans. And when he catches your appreciative gaze, he sends you a wink before lining up his next shot.

Jake sinks another solid into the pocket he’d called only moments ago, and turns his dimpled smile at you, “You still sure about your date with the old man, chickadee? I bet I could show him up in that department too.”

The way he says it, you know he’s just teasing, probably just to rile you date up and get a reaction from him.

“Unfortunately for you, I think I have a thing for mustaches now,” you toss back, unbothered. And Bradley smiles into his drink.

You watch as Jake lines up his next shot and hits the white with a compact stroke.

“Double hit,” you declare.

“Dammit,” Jake curses.

You look over to see Bradley looking at you with a focused look on his face. Like there’s a theory clicking into place, one he needs the answer to. Wordlessly, he hands you the cue.

“You sure?” you ask.

“Two hundred dollars sure,” he states.

You take it from him with a sly grin.

Bradley’s thighs brush against the front of your knees, you know if you parted them even a couple inches, that he’d fit just right between them. His hands landing on your waist again as he assists you off the stool you’ve been perched on. And you’re starting to think he just likes an excuse to touch you, not that he needs one because you already more than like the feel of his hands on your body.

You walk the pool table, running a finger around the rails as you do. Evaluating the balls on the table like they’re chess pieces. The slow clip of your heels on the floor like the tick of a clock as you take your time deciding your approach.

“You’re the stripes,” Jake offers helpfully. “Don’t worry, I’ll even let you have a free shot.”

And you can’t help but laugh because this is going to be fun.

“Bradley?” you ask, leisurely chalking your cue.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Do you mind?” You gesture to the spot behind you, and he catches on quick with a not-so-subtle glance at the short hem of your skirt.

He sets his beer down and comes to stand behind you, there’s just enough space between the two of you that you don’t have to worry about hitting him with the cue, his broad from proving you the coverage you needed to bend over the table. While you don’t think you’d mind Bradley seeing the silk thong you had on underneath your dress, you weren’t exactly up for flashing the whole bar.

You haven’t played in a while, but it’s a muscle memory at this point, as you map out your moves. Seeing the lines and angles and arcs in your mind’s eye before anchoring your bridge.

You look at Bradley from over your shoulder, only to see his eyes are trained on the ceiling with his tongue pressed against his cheek. A gentleman, albeit not an unaffected one. A tendril of smokey gratification curls its way along your spine. You turn your head back to the pool table looking between the cue, target, cue ball, target.

It’s a smooth stroke with a satisfying crack. A clean three-rail shot that lands the striped five into the pock you’d intended for it.

“Damn” is all Jake says. His eyes you up, clearly impressed.

“You sure about that free shot, Jake?” You stand up and smooth out your dress, just for the show of it. “Or do you want to make it double or nothing instead, Malibu Ken?” You hear Bradley snort from behind you.

And just like you thought, he wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, “Deal.” Jake turns to Bradley. “I just let your girl hustle me, didn’t I?”

“You sure did,” Bradley says with a grin, but his eyes are on you.

Neither are surprised when you sink your next shot too. The six sailing into the left corner pocket.

On your next shot, you may or may not deliberately foul. A tactical choice that sets Jake up with a less than ideal position on the table, knowing it’ll be a difficult shot for him to make.

“Now you’re just toying with me, aren’t you?” Jake grouses.

You just smile and take a sip of the rosé that Bradley hands you, neither confirming or denying.

Surprisingly, he banks it.  But his good luck only lasting through that one play. Because on his next, the ball glances off the side rail at too acute an angle to reach the intended pocket and he groans.

Not quite ready to be done, you ease off a little. Enough that they both know you’re going easy on him to extend the game longer, just so that he can catch up to you.

But soon enough, soon there’s only your eight ball left on the table.

“Looks like you’re about to be out four hundred dollars, Jake,” you say with a self-satisfied smirk.

“Just put me out of my misery already.”

You turn to Bradley, who has been carefully positioning himself behind you the whole time. You hold out the cue to him and ask, “Do you want the honors?”

He shakes his head. “Go on, finish him off, sweetheart. I’m enjoying the show.”

And when your final ball tips into the side pocket, Jakes resounding groan is drown out by the whistle Bradley lets loose between his thumb and pointer finger, as you turn towards him beaming.

“The atm’s by the restroom.” Bradley sounds only too happy to remind Jake as he closes the gap between the two of you.

You look over his wide shoulder, “As for the whiskey, something expensive please, Malibu Ken.”

Jake huffs a grumble but nods all the same as he goes to round up your winnings.

“Scored four hundred dollars and a valentine, that’s not too shabby, if I do say so myself,” you preen to Bradley.

“Think that might have been the best thing I’ve seen all year,” Bradley announces. “The hottest too, if I’m being honest.” You feel your cheeks heat under his gaze. His finger slips under the thin strap of your dress that had fallen off your shoulder somewhere along the way. He slides it back up and into place, treating it like some delicate thing the same way he did that paper wrapper. “Where’d you learn to play like that?”

Normally, this is when you’d rerack, but you’ve never had a Bradley Bradshaw looking at you before.

“I took a class in college over the summer as an elective credit, and it turns out I had a knack for it,” you explain with a playful little shrug.

“I’ll say.” He takes another step closer. “Did you just show me your move, sweetheart?”

“One of them,” you grin.

You don’t have to press up to his height, not with your pearly heels.

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring his lips to yours for a kiss. A sound of surprise escapes from his throat. You feel the curve of a smile before his hands slide around your waist to pull you closer.

The scrape of his mustache against your upper lip sends electricity racing along every nerve ending in your body. In that moment you are Midas touched, the blood thrumming through your veins feels like liquid gold. It’s unhurried, like he’s been waiting to savor the feel of your mouth against his. Exciting and new as you learn the taste and touch of him. You knew it was going to be good, but even so, it’s better than you could have expected.

“Think you just snagged that number one spot of my list of favorite mustached men,” you say against his lips.

“Suck it, Selleck,” he rasps.

You inhale the amusement of his light chuckle, letting it go to your head like champagne bubbles, before he slips a hand around the base of your neck and pulling you in close once again.

A couple hours later, you find yourself at home on the couch. Your cheeks a little sore from how much smiling you’d done tonight, as Tom and Meg trade words over a plate of caviar on screen.

It was only much later that night you’d gotten to see Bradley’s big move.

He’d surprised you with his voice and the talented way his fingers glided over the white and black keys. An expensive glass of amber colored liquor sitting atop the old piano as he played, and four hundred dollars tucked safely away in your purse.

You’d given him your number when he’d walked you to your car, only distracting you for a few extra minutes with his mouth, before you’d left for the night, hoping that you’d hear from him soon.

A notification lights up your phone, and a ribbon of thrill unspools through you.

You sigh when you see that it’s a notification from your dating app. You’re wary to open it, not wanting anything to color your night, but you figure now is as good of time as any to block the guy who had nothing on the one you’d spent your evening with.

When you see the name of the person who’d sent you a message, you click into his profile with lightning-fast fingers, skimming all the details to things you hadn’t had a chance to learn yet.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰

𝐀𝐠𝐞: 𝟑𝟓

𝐉𝐨𝐛 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝐏𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐭

𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐥: 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐚

𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬: 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥

𝐙𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐜 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧: 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫

There is a picture of him in uniform, grinning to someone out of the frame. And another one of him shirtless on the beach, surrounded by some of the faces you’d seen tonight at the Hard Deck.

But it’s the answers to the prompts that he’d picked, that set your heart fluttering.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐈 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲. (𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐞𝐰 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐡𝐞𝐫.)

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬: 𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐬, 𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬.

𝐈 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭: 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬.

That one makes you laugh.

You open the message from him, one that had been sent with a rose.

𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐰: 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞? 𝐚𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧? 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐈 𝐨𝐰𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐏𝐨𝐩.

You don’t even have to think.

𝐘𝐨𝐮: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝?

And you can’t help but grin to yourself as look at that paper ring still on your finger. Because you know, this app won’t be on your phone for much longer.

Not now that you’ve met him.

Happy Hearts Day, friends! Thank you for reading!

And a big thank you to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse) for all the support and encouragement and general woogirling over Bradley Bradshaw!

You can read my other stories here!

Taglist:

@gretagerwigsmuse @sehnsuchts-trunken  @callsignspark @notroosterbradshaw @tongue-like-a-razor @laracrofted @ofstoriesandstardust @bradshawsbitch @starryeyedstories @top-hhun-main @startrekfangirl2233 @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @angelbabyange @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @imaginecrushes @keyrani @chicomonks @artemissunn @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader

[o-sunny-day]

Caine Analysis, MUSIC MAN EDITION!!!

The track that plays during Zoobles therapy session….first of all, goes unneceSSARILY hard. highly recommend, give it a listen, save it on a playlist.

But also OH MY GOD, THE WAY THE MUSIC IS USED IN THE THERAPY SCENE(S), IM OBSESSED WITH IT!!! I just gotta yap about it here.

Before the scene analysis though, I wanna talk about the song as a whole/on its own…it just feels like Caines theme- its so ridiculously goofy, with a moment that has a smooth…elegant piano…that plays a few notes…that then goes straight back to wacky again HDHCHEH like yeah I feel like that sums him up as a character pretty well. Also the sound effects used just kinda scream “this guys got a screw loose”

but I digress…

ONTO THE SCENE!!!! analyzing the music is the main idea, but plot twist this is also just generally a therapy scene analysis…. this is the longest thing I have ever written for this show….so im gonna put a Keep Reading here so uh…If you’re as committed to this show as I am, uh, godspeed soldier.

Before Caine even brings therapy up, theres no music, and Caine is more or less forcing this conversation onto Zooble. He snaps his fingers, and BOOM the music comes in, setting the tone for something ridiculous and silly, something that therapy…famously is not.

I love Caine, but this definitely feels like one of his more…morally dubious scenes/parts of his character. This isn’t him looking to help Zooble, as it is more helping them ONLY so they participate in his adventures. Sure, he may be concerned over WHY someone wouldn’t want to go on his amazingly fun adventures, but the main goal here is still just getting Zooble to participate…. in general, not the best intentions/goal-

This beginning scene is also a really good example of how much control Caine has over the space, I rewatched the pilot recently and found on a writing perspective how cool the ending is. We have just witnessed the entire cast struggle and get bodied by this abstraction/finding the exit problem, before Caine comes in and fixes every issue in 10 second by snapping his fingers twice, but the WAY he “fixes” these issues is also really cool and informative. It only proves his control, not his HELPFULNESS. Caine doesn’t help by fixing Kaufmo, or even getting rid of him in a dignified way, just CHUCK EM DOWN A HOLE! And for the exit? lets just teleport you away, there ya go, oh yeah btw the exit wasnt real HAHA so funny right? anywho heres a feast.

BUT UH- ANYWHO BACK TO MUSIC THINGS.

The session begins by Caine asking whats on Zoobles mind. They make an attempt to escape like “hey man…imna have to sit this out” before Caine demonstrates what we just talked about. How he has ALL the power here, laughs and shuts that DOWN. The music abruptly stopping at this, before continuing like it neveerrr happened ✨

The music stops again, however, as Zooble begins to talk about their issue, then deciding its pointless. The music then continues when it goes back to Caine. This pattern goes on throughout the whole thing, starting when it focuses on Caine, and stopping when it focuses on Zooble, showing a very stark contrast between the 2 in…everything about them, but also in how they’re handling the situation

The music doesn’t come back when Caine shows the bee he drew, though. I think thats mainly because, even though the shot is focusing on Caine, the point of it is to convey Zoobles perspective on the situation. instead of focusing on Caine and the fact that hes not paying attention, its Zoobles reaction to him not paying attention. (The whole “forget it” theory and that being a command, I think, is really cool and could easily be true, but i’m hesitant to believe it only because I feel that that could easily take away some of Caines accountability in only caring about adventures instead of actually being concerned for Zoobles well being.)

After a break and seeing what our manor buddies are up to, we come back to Caine being more elevated- the tone taking on a less hehe-playful-silly vibe, and more of a subdued version, id think thats just to fit the situation, because of the aforementioned elevatedness. Though the music is still playing and its not silent because its still RIDICULOUS, not meant to be taken as seriously (though Caines anger here is so real cause this is my exact reaction when I cant remember things)

it does stops though when Zooble finally opens up, giving a chance to be serious one more time….before going STRAIGHT back to silly, and not the subdued kind either, theres no toy noises but its still lively-er

then.

THIS PART.

THIS PART, IS WHAT MADE ME WRITE THIS ENTIRE THING IN THE FIRST PLACE.

THIS IS WHAT THROWS ME FOR A LOOP.

Zooble responds to this so-called solution, saying it just doesnt work, as the music fades out. It doesnt CUT out, Zooble is being pretty gentle here, saying that they have honest to god TRIED his attempt at a fix, but it just doesnt work.

BUT THEN THE MUSIC COMES BACK AGAIN AS CAINE DISMISSES THIS, AND GOES STRAIGHT BACK TO THE ADVENTURES. This is the most important part to me in my point that Caines flaws SHINE in this scene. Zooble confiding in Caine for the PROBABLY HUNDREDTH TIME, getting the SAME SOLUTION, telling him it DOES NOT WORK. and then he flat out IGNORES THIS. “So, back to the adventures :D” LIKE WHAT THE FUCK MAN 😭 I love him so much I am not Caine hater I promise hes my favorite character and I love his flaws I just think its so funny HCDHHHDHDH

But with the music, and how it fades out, it CUTS BACK IN REAL QUICK! As Caine desperately tries to get what he wants out of this.

but the SOUND of the music that cuts in… its just so…off?? I lack the proper music terminology to describe it- It just WAVERS in a weird way, it feels like a voice crack, and as Zooble says to forget it, its like Caine stumbled trying to get back to get to the adventures, and is stumbling even more as hes trying to make sense of Zoobles “forget it” line.

and then. the music just. completely dies, after slowly fizzling out with the whole awkward comeback thing. Its quiet as Zooble explains why nobody likes Caines adventures, similar to how it went quiet when Zooble explained their OWN issues. Caine flies over, going back to being all goofy. except the music doesnt come back.

But after all the glitching… IT JUST GOES RIGHT BACK….like it never happened✨

And for why the music doesnt return in this last bit with Caine on the therapy couch, im not too sure. I cant tell if its because this is also supposed to be taken seriously, or if its just cause it worked the best with the scene it just left on, but I personally….dont know. idk how serious its supposed to be taken that Caine definitely needs therapybHBEHBDEHHDEHHDE

CONCLUSIONS: MORE YAP ABOUT A FEW THINGS THAT DONT INVOLVE MUSIC BUT MORE JUST THIS SCENE IN GENERAL!!!

fucking phenomenal voice work on Alex Rochon here, im obsessed with the sudden change in tone with the line “all i’m….good at.” and then the shake in his voice, both things that we have NEVER HEARD come out of this character before….nor..expected??

and idk if its just because ive watched this scene like a hundred times and im over analyzing BUT the way Caines eyes shrink here…It feels like hes making this realization that its “all hes good at” as hes saying it, like he has never thought of it that way before, but now that he is……

AND LASTLY!!! Something about this scene in GENERAL that I dont quite understand about the common take away, is that the reason why Zooble doesn’t go on adventures is just because they arent good in Zoobles head, like they very much establish it has nothing to do with the adventures it has everything to do with them. The only reason why they bring up that “no one likes the adventures” is because thats all that Caine cares to hear about, at least from their perspective.

in real conclusion……i love Caine, Zooble, and Caines flaws.

[ticklystuff]

also i really wanted c6 chevreuse and i ended up getting an early c1 kinich (rip mavuika pity) but hes super fun so im not too mad (i am)

[digiblueslush]

I'm horrible at this in person but maybe I'll be good at this online lolz

also answering and yapping under the cut :3

The lie is the first one! But its not a full lie..... I'll talk about the other 2 first for the *suspension*

I do in fact have 3 kidneys, it's been my fun fact for years now haha. Though it isn't fun sometimes, I'm more prone to UTI's and they last much longer than normal, as well as occasional back pain where my extra kidney is. basically my right kidney has a smaller kidney attached but still mostly separated (like compartmentalized i guess) from it. They also both have their own ureter (the tube that connects your kidneys to your bladder) so I have 3 of those as well, and it's even less fun! because people don't usually have 3 ureters, the extra one attaches to my bladder wrong and has a blockage. over the years that extra kidney has kinda caught wind of that and has increasing gifted it's labor to my full right kidney, but it still gets used occasionally. This is usually a condition that's treated when your really young because the older you get, the more risk there is removing the extra kidney, or it isn't treated at all because majority of the time its asymptomatic. I am not looking forward to having to see a pediatric urologist at the ripe age of almost 20 haha

I was also in a menhera idol group for a period of time. it was uhhhhh. yikes. basically I posted a thing about wanted to make a menhera idol group on tiktok, and it got a decent amount of traction (used to have a cosplay account with a decent following). none of these people lived near me and half of them lived in a different country, but i had just downloaded project sekai and i had that idol spirit in me. We almost released a song, but thank god we didn't because the only good part was the instrumental. we all had shitty mics and nobody could write lyrics around the instrumental. they were all the same notes as the instrumental. It was a fun concept tho, and if it was better planned out and with actual people i think it would've been fun for a while

Now, the moment you've all been waiting for (unlikely). The lie is that I met Dan and Phil. I did meet someone from an airbnb cancellation, and it was GERARD FUCKING WAY. Basically my friend invited me to go with her to WWWYF, and our airbnb cancelled on us the week before we flew out. The only hotel in vegas that would let people under 21 check in was the 4 seasons, and we somehow managed to get a room there. The day of the festival (we only went to day 1) we went to their breakfast resturant and got seated. we were there for a bit when i started looking around and mister micheal romance was literally 2 tables away eating a bowl of fruit. I actually didn't want to approach at first, but my friend did so we waited until he was getting up to leave to not interrupt their meal (he was also there with one other person, I'm assuming either security or a stage person but he did look somewhat familiar) to say hi. we got a picture but its nothing id want to post, mans was just eating breakfast and i couldn't feel my hands. I think all i said to them was "thank you for existing" and then I cried at me and my friends table for 10 minutes from overstimulation lmao

Two Truths and One Lie

tagged by the lovely @skelewashere

No pressure tags!

@amariathe @thehollywoodnecromancer @yoza22 @shark-tranny @ning-ningx300 @southerngothhorror @afriendofblahaj @theasexualagent @enbypalsidk @woods3115 @hellishbound @someone-kill-the-ej @errornonamesleft @professional-lurker-42 @artisticfurby @estrogenlover @lesbianhouseplant @idonothavesex @justtransteenagerstuff @tigerfromthetiber @slugthatscreatures @purpleminusred @certifiedpurpledumbass @trans-fem-menace @uwathebestgirl @mossy-enigma @twinklefwinkle @boughtmender @n1cogiordano @newtidalwave @sp-chronom @eepysalamander @calliekoi95 @spaghettihell @imjunebitch @amorphousprimordia + anyone who sees this is tagged now

[kyouka-supremacy]

Well.

[renegadebraveheart]

I don’t typically do these, but this does seem like fun. Even if I don’t have anyone to tag for this lol. These are more excerpts from actually released chapters, since I don’t have any of these words in my WIPs. And I couldn’t find anywhere I used beneath, whoops.

Danger(ous) (from chapter 10 of RenAi, I ended the year off with this chapter!):

He takes out his plane ticket for Los Angeles, California.

“This… is pretty much the reason why I wanted to see you tonight, before I go.”

Ai nods as she takes his hand in hers as they stroll back to the mansion.

“I figured… but what I’m wondering is, are you feeling well enough to make the trip in the first place? And you know you’ll be going on lots of dangerous rides at that theme park as well.”

“Well, you see…”

Ai’s eyebrows lowered as she looked at him stubbornly.

“Ren, I know you can’t lie to me, so spill it. You can tell me, so please?”

The young man clenches her hand a bit tighter before turning to her.

“I’m about… 70… er, 65% better.”

Dark (from my recent chapter of RenAi, couldn’t find anything else, plus I love this moment lol):

“R-Ren!”

That voice… he instantly knew as soon as he heard it.

From his time hearing her singing on albums, to now when she shares pleasant conversations on calm date nights… He knew he found his beloved, as he peers up to see her. Her human makeup dripping down on her left side to reveal her zombie face, yet the smile forming on her lips and her red eyes shining through the dark drew him towards her.

“Ai… Ai!”

Wound (from the 27th chapter of Fictional Epicenter. Had to censor the name of the victim out of fear of spoilers lol.):

“That's all we got?” Saki asked as Reyn shook his head.

“Nah, I found somethin’ else… There, on the back of (spoiler)’s neck.”

There was a small wound right there on (their) neck, like something was injected right there. Like when you get a shot at the doctors, used to hate those as a kid but I’m starting to get better now that I’m older. I wouldn’t get a shot right at the neck though, so I feel really bad for what poor (spoiler) went through before dying…

WIP Word Game

Rules: you will be given four words. Share pieces from your WIPs that contain each of the words.

(I just realised that the person who starts this tag doesn’t get to participate😭 because they’re the one who gives the first group of words)

Your Words are: Beneath, danger, darkly, wound

Tagging @justabigoldnerd @too-young-to-fall-in-love @freddiepurrcury @bighandsforabigheart @fandom-meet-fanthem @falling-into-peril

@prettyboynapoleonsolo @huggiebird @deerilkka @the-golden-comet @riveriafalll @willtheweaver and anyone else who wants to join x

[finalpam8000]

I just finished The Magnus Archives for the first time last week! And thought it might be fun to compile the episodes that scared me the most and see which ones spooked the rest of the fandom as well!

[thoughtpeek]

I'VE FINALLY FINISHED BROTHERSHIP IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!

[princekirijo]

Well that happened. That was a DLC.

[bookwyrminspiration]

Yessss dnd nerds :DD and dam yeah that is a wacky situation it turned out sick tho!! Perks of being at least mostly blonde is i dont have to panic ab bleach tho i was thinking about combing like the three leftover pinks i have and then maybe doin somethin like what u have cause its so cool and i like Need to dye my hair again soon qhfkks <3

Grew up with a dnd nerd (my dad), so I think it's in my dna or something, just latent rn. I've engaged casually, but the extreme nerdom has yet to be activated.

But yeah I really just fuck around and find out with my hair most of the time. If it really goes bad I can just shave it off, so very little stress about it all (despite what my christmas color near meltdown might imply).

Also you are SO lucky ough that's a whole step and situation you don't even gotta deal with I'm. Damn. I'm not jealous because I have no desire to be blond but like. Bleaching is such a hassle and you don't even gotta do it -_-

But also!! If you do something like what I have I sooo wanna know about it and hear what you end up doing! Fun hair colors are a delight of life so I'm very happy for you!! Have so so much silly with it :3

[pebblezone]

The Beach Boys Love You (1977) is such a questionable album I mean it’s barely even a Beach Boys album based on who contributes what but she’s so silly to me ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[pomefioredove]

the overblots (+ rook + lillia? if thats okay) reactions to you calling them your husband…………..

saw the words lilia and husband in the same ask and got so excited I blacked out

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ calling them your husband

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, rook, idia, malleus, lilia additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, established relationship

Riddle "we're not married" Rosehearts, everyone. and he says it so matter-of-factly too! like, of course, you know that. you were just trying to be sweet and romantic. he figures it out eventually, though (the realization hits him like a truck two hours later, and he apologizes with roses and a slice of tart. Ace makes fun of him for weeks)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona is so smug about it actually. unlike Riddle, he's socially aware enough to know that you don't mean it literally. he's like, "damn right I am" and will defo make you say it again. especially in front of the other housewardens. and his family, and random people on the street (he likes it)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

I think Azul would try to actually marry you after that. he is reading way too much into it. I mean, you basically just said you love him and belong to each other in the most intimate and loving way and want to be together forever!!!! (he's already thinking about your wedding rings)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

"your boyfriend 😑" THANKS JAMIL. it's not that he doesn't understand what you mean, it's just that he's having NONE of that. thinking about the future scares him he's just a realist!!! and then he fucks up and calls you his spouse without thinking one time... you never let him forget it

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil likes it. he's just sitting there all smug like "😌 yes that's me" definitely also calls you his spouse when you're alone. to him, it's just a symbol of your commitment and a promise of a loving future together. very cute very sweet 10/10

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Rook lights up like a kid on Christmas morning the first time you say it. it's just so!!!! he thinks about it for the rest of the week, and absolutely starts referring to you as his spouse. will sign all of his love notes with "your husband" from then on

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia is going THROUGH it. tells you you're being cringe while his face and hair are cherry red (which means he likes it!) definitely going to think about it while in bed staring at the ceiling for months. Ortho overhears and starts calling you his sibling-in-law :)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Malleus. MALLEUS. someone save this poor man. he's unwell. pacing around his room all night, trying to figure out what you meant by that. are you trying to tell him you want him to propose?? you want to marry him?? right now right this second-

you'll have to tell him you meant it as a term of endearment, which both relaxes and disappoints him (say it again, please please pl-)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Lilia doesn't really have a reaction. not on the surface, anyway. he just goes on with the conversation (he is fighting demons in his head rn). he decides he likes it, though, and he'll introduce you to everyone as his spouse from then on