#feels great! love it! yeah of course I should take responsibility for my own life. can you stop fucking yelling at me so I can. go do that

[cogcltrcorn]

went for a smoke in the kitchen and got called infantile for *checks notes* asking to wake me up for a test tomorrow if I don't wake up myself. just another day in the hashtag life

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - father's day

Santi celebrates his first Father's Day.

Warnings: Just SICKLY SWEET. Mentions of breastfeeding (but as I've always said, a fed baby is a happy baby, whether bottle or breast!). Small mention of body insecurity. Hints of a parent who has passed. Allusions to unsupportive parents (as mentioned in the original fic). Not even remotely proofread so there will be mistakes 😊😊 Word count: 2,800 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

I know this is over a week late, I apologise. A part of my Baby, Please universe; this can be read as a stand alone but all the history is in the series.

“So, I’ll come over on Sunday with the girls?” you ask him down the phone.

Santi frowns in confusion at your words. “Did we make plans?”

You go quiet, and Santi momentarily wonders if he’d forgotten something important. Was he supposed to have the girls for the day? Had he just fucked up? It – obviously – wouldn’t be the first time he’d done that with you, and he’d truly tried his hardest to never wrong you again. He could have the girls, it wasn’t a problem, he didn’t have any plans anyways –

“It’s Father’s Day, Santi,” you tell him gently. “Your first one.”

Oh.

He hadn’t celebrated Father’s Day in years, not since before his own father had passed away. And he never thought he’d celebrate it for himself. And the girls were barely five months old, was it…really worth doing anything until they were older?

“We don’t have to do anything, I was just assuming…” you say, taking his silence as a bad thing.

“No, sorry,” Santi says immediately, trying to calm your anxieties. “You just took me by surprise. I didn’t realise that it was Father’s Day.”

You chuckle softly on the other end of the line. “Well…I was thinking we could go to the beach. It’ll be the girls’ first time, and I thought we could spend it together.”

Santi is quiet. Too quiet, and for too long, because your unsure voice comes through. “Santi?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He swallows, running a hand down his face. This was going to be his first Father's Day; a milestone he never imagined he'd ever experience in his life. The reality of it all was almost overwhelming. He couldn’t believe how much his life had changed in just over a year, meeting you and having kids; the joy and responsibility of being a father to these two beautiful girls was immense. Santi couldn't shake the feeling that he was living in a dream, and the weight of it pressed on him, a mixture of awe and gratitude so intense it nearly brought tears to his eyes. “The beach sounds great. Really. I would love that.”

“Okay,” you say, and you sound relieved. “I'll bring a picnic, and…and the girls can play in the sand, and the ocean. I bought them some cute shorts the other day, they could wear them. It'll be fun, I promise.”

Santi feels his heart skip a beat at the way you try and reassure him that it’ll be fun, like he wouldn’t want to spend the day with you and the girls. Of course he would, he would drop everything if it meant he could see you and the kids. He smiles despite himself. He can almost picture it now: the bright sun, the endless stretch of sand, the sound of the waves, and his girls' faces as they experience the ocean for the first time. It's a perfect plan. A perfect day.

“So…should I pick you up, 10am?” you ask, that nervousness still in your voice. Santi can just picture you now, biting your lip as you wait for his answer.

“Yeah, see you Sunday.”

“Okay,” you breathe, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “See you then.”

You both hang up after saying your goodbyes, and Santi stands there for a moment, staring at his phone, still processing everything. His first Father's Day.

A year ago, Santi would have laughed if he was told he would be spending the day at the beach with the woman he knocked up on a first date, and his twin daughters. Yet here he was, planning his first Father’s Day together, marvelling at how life had taken such an unexpected turn for him, after the shit show that was their last mission with Lorea, and losing Tom. Santi couldn't help but feel some anxiety, which left a heavy and sick feeling in his stomach, but also excitement for what Sunday would bring, a figurative step forward in yours and his ‘unconventional’ journey.

“Think this is a good spot?” you ask, but you dump your bags down anyway before he could answer.

Santi gave a small laugh as he watched you arrange your set up for Isabela and Jasmine; some inflatable supports so they could sit up, some toys from home that were beach friendly, and some towels to sit on with extras in your bag (just in case, you never know!), and an umbrella to give the girls shade. You had contemplated bringing some buckets and spades but decided that they were too young for that just yet.

You looked cute when you came to pick him up, in some shorts and a flowy shirt. You’d been having a few insecurities about your body as of late, as there was just a little but extra of you that wasn’t there before, and you were unsure of wearing something a little less exposed. Santi had told you that you grew and birthed two – two! – children, your body was bound to go through some changes. And you continued to nurture those two – two! – children with your body, so your body was amazing. It warmed your heart (and your cheeks) to hear that from him, and you said no more on the matter.

The sky was so blue it looked painted. The beach is perfect – not too crowded, with soft, warm sand and gentle waves. The girls are dressed in loose t-shirts and shorts, matching sun hats on their heads. You had already lathered them in sunscreen before leaving your house, but you were already preparing to add more on them as Santi popped them in their inflatable supports. Santi laughed as the girls kicked their legs in the sand, their eyes wide as they took in the feel of it on their legs and feet.

After placing more sunscreen on the girls, you sat back and relaxed, smiling at Santi. “This is nice.”

Santi nodded, looking around as he takes a seat with the twins, quickly stopping Isabela from eating a handful of sand. “I don’t remember the last time I went to the beach and just relaxed.”

You gave a breathy laugh. “As relaxed as you can be with two five-month-olds.”

Santi gives a shrug with a small laugh before he stops Isabela eating the sand again. He takes his shirt off, tossing it over with the rest of your stuff, and you try hard not to stare at him. He wasn’t as active as he used to be, but still kept in shape and had a nice little chub that suited him well.

After applying sunscreen to yourself (and making Santi put some on too, which he does – with an eye roll), you change the girls into some swim diapers and swim onesies. Santi carries them both to the ocean with you, one girl in each arm, and you take as many photos as you can before sending them to your friends and Santi’s. You beam so much your cheeks start to hurt (it puts the meltdown over your own father you had that morning to the back of your mind).

Santi steps into the ocean, just up to his knees. You take Jasmine from him, and the two of you crouch to give your girls their first experience of the sea. The first touch of the cool ocean on their feet makes them pause for a moment, and after a moment, Isabela starts crying. Jasmine looked over at the noise, almost startled, before she splashed a little in the water, giggling. Santi brought Isabela back out, soothing her a little until her tears subsided, before trying again. He laughed when she started screaming again, her legs lifting before hitting the water.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” said Santi, lifting her back up. “You don’t like it. I won’t do it again.”

“I’ll take her if you want,” you say, straightening up with Jasmine.

You swap babies, Isabela calming in your arms, unshed tears on her waterline as she watches Jasmine and Santi play in the ocean.

“See, it’s not so scary,” you coo to her, but she merely clings to you as she watches. You take some selfies before getting some photos of Santi and Jasmine. She kicks her legs, splashing water everywhere, and you and Santi both laugh, caught up in her pure, unfiltered joy.

For a moment, everything else fades away. It’s just you, Santi, and your daughters, the sun warming your skin and the waves gently lapping at your feet. Santi feels a swell of emotion, a deep, steadfast love for his new family that nearly overwhelms him.

“She loves it,” you say with a laugh, your voice filled with happiness as you lightly bounce Isabela and look at Jasmine. “Look at her!”

“I know,” Santi replies, his voice thick with the sudden emotions. “I know.”

You try again with Isabela, dipping her toes in the water. She seemed happier with that, and she kicked her legs a little before you submerge her feet in the water. Her matching giggles with Jasmine fill the space around you.

The day passes in a blur of laughter and play. You both take turns holding the girls as they splash in the water, then retreat back to your towels where you sit with your daughters. You nurse them for a moment and Santi offers to get some ice cream for you both from the hut down the beach. You nod, and the girls soon nod off in your arms. You lay them on the towels in the shade. They look like little angels, their sunhats crooked on their heads as they sleep.

Santi comes back, handing you an ice cream before he sits back down with you. You eat together silently, and Santi watches Isabela and Jasmine. His heart feels full. He glances at you, catching you watching him with a soft smile.

“You’re a good dad, Santi,” you say quietly.

“Thank you,” he replies, his voice barely a whisper as his cheeks warm. “That means a lot.”

Santi turns back to the girls again with a sense of awe, his heart swelling with pride. “I still can’t believe they’re ours,” he murmurs, his voice melting into a chuckle at the end.

“Me neither,��� you admit, quickly licking at the dripping ice cream. “But I’m glad they are.”

The girls sleep for another hour, and you watch over them as Santi goes for a dip in the ocean. He offers to swap ‘shifts’ with you, but you’ve never been fond of the ocean, and you’re happy to keep an eye on the girls as they nap. And you don’t admit it, but you get to ogle Santi as he comes out of the ocean, golden skin glistening from the water and the sun…you noticed you weren’t the only one admiring him, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly smug when the other women – and some men – on the beach send jealous looks over to you when he joins you.

The morning turns into afternoon, and Jasmine wakes from her nap, where Santi offers to change her as you set out the picnic between you both. Jasmine babbles away as Santi places her back in her support, and you hand her a few toys in reach to keep her entertained as you eat. You’d brought Santi’s favourite sandwiches and some fruits, and his favourite cake from that bakery you frequently go to when you go on one of your walks together (“It’s Father’s Day, why wouldn’t I bring your favourite foods?”).

There was that warm feeling again. This was Santi’s first Father's Day. Every giggle, every tiny hand grasping his finger, every sleepy sigh as they drifted off to sleep, it all felt so surreal. Santi couldn't shake the feeling that he was living in a dream, one where he was finally building the family he had longed for, and the weight of it pressed on him, a mixture of awe and gratitude. He doesn’t know how you always know how he feels, but as you reach other to give his hand a squeeze, he doesn’t hesitate to squeeze right back.

Isabela wakes up soon after you both finish eating, and you change her, and reapply sunscreen to everyone (“You too, dada!”) before you and Santi take them in the water again. Isabela, again, has a little fright before she embraces the water, and she lets you take her in deeper. Soon, Santi is holding both girls in his arms, the water up to his chest as he holds them both in the water, cheering that both of them have taken to it so well.

“Wait, wait, let me get a photo!” you call before you get as close as you’re comfortable with, getting a photo of Santi smiling widely, sunglasses on his face. You take as many as you can, even some where he’s just cooing to them both.

The day passes in a blur of baby giggles, diaper changes, and feedings. Santi marvels at how much the girls have grown, their personalities starting to shine through even at such a young age. He can already tell that Isabela is more adventurous, always wriggling and reaching for things, while Jasmine is quieter, content to snuggle in his arms. His finds his mind drifting back to memories of his own father, the way they all used to spend the day fishing or grilling in the backyard, and the way his mother used to try and take over the cooking, but his father always used to tell her it was his day and he will cook the meat however he damn well pleases (but eventually, his mother would always end up by the grill with his father, her arms around his waist as he followed her instructions). He smiles at the thought of making new traditions with his Isabela and Jasmine, even if they were too young to remember them now.

Santi would like to think his parents would be proud of him, and of the girls.

The sun lowers, and there’s a slight chill coming in from the breeze and you both call it a day. You feed the girls one last time before packing up, and hauling everything back to the car, where you strap them into their car seats, giving them toys to play with. You close the trunk of the car, before turning to Santi.

“So,” you say, crossing your arms and leaning against the car. “How was your first Father’s Day?”

Santi gives you that crooked smile that always makes your knees weak. But you’ll never tell him that. “I admit, it scared me a little. But…it was a good day. A perfect day, actually.”

You smile, proud of yourself, and of him. “Good. I’m glad.”

Sanit offers to drive you home, and you take the opportunity. The drive back is quiet, and the girls fast asleep in the backseats, their faces peaceful. The sun and the excitement of the day wearing them out more than usual. You doze in the passenger seat, and Santi sends over a fond smile as he pulls up outside his house. He gently shakes you away.

“Hey…” he mutters. “We’re home.”

You blink up at him and yawn before stretching. You sit up and unbuckle your belt. “Thanks for driving home.”

“No problem.” He smiles at you before you both go quiet, just taking each other in. After a moment, he says, “Thanks for today. It was…perfect.”

“It was,” you agree, smiling at his sincere tone. “We should do it again sometime, not just for Father’s Day.”

“I’d like that,” Santi replies, a warmth spreading through him at the thought. “We could invite Fish and Sarah, and they could bring Sofía.”

You nod. “That would be nice.”

After you swap places in the car, and Santi gives his daughters a kiss goodbye, giving them soft smiles as they stir awake, he comes to the driver’s window. “So I’ll have them Tuesday and Wednesday, right?”

You nod. “Yeah. Oh! Actually, can you have them Saturday evening, too. I uh…I have plans.”

He pauses for a moment and ignores the sudden tightness in his chest before he smirked at the warmth of your cheeks. “What plans?”

“None of your business,” you say with a teasing grin as you roll your eyes.

“You got a date?” Santi teases back.

“Maybe…I’ll let you know,” you say. There’s a small quiet moment between you both before you clear your throat. “So…see you on Tuesday? I’ll text you.”

“See you on Tuesday,” he says, and you give him a goodbye as you pull away. Santi watches as you drive away, a sense of contentment settling over him. His first Father’s Day. It had been more than he ever could have hoped for.

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

[incorrectcreepypastafam]

Creepypasta As Hazbin Hotel

Ben: so what do you think

Jeff: I’m sorry what the fuck was that

Helen: we’re not filming a porn as a commercial

Puppeteer: why not

Nina: I like being forced

Jeff: keep that to yourself, Nina

Nina: Puppeteer sir

Puppeteer: call me dickmaster

Nina: Puppeteer.

Nina: it’s a solution to our biggest problem

Jeff: oh yeah herpes that’s a bitch

Nina: no our other biggest problem

Jeff: oh uh ugly people?

Jeff: math?

Jane: face my wrath

Jeff: who are you

Jane: I attacked you literally last week

Jeff: ?

Jane: we’ve done battle like twenty times

Jeff: well you must’ve been really bad at this

Liu: oh god, here I go, Jeff. just another fucking day with Jeff. hey hey hey fuck my life

Liu: looks like you have everything under control here

Lyra: of course I do, fuck you, now shoo, go take care of the piss baby

Liu: so you should…?

Jeff: do nothing?

Liu: great idea!!

Toby: you still pissed he almost beat you that time?

Jeff: uh fuck you

Toby: just saying

Sally: *gasp* the bad boy is back

Sally: never leave me again

Brian: we’re about 80% sure she’s harmless

Jeff: this is stupid

Lyra: this is not stupid!

Lyra: it’s just the GAMEEEEE

Lyra: Liu did it well so please try to do the same!

Jeff: I’m too sober for this

Jeff: I’m looking forward to stabbing the other residents

Slenderman: WHAT WHY

Slenderman: people are being nice because they want you to feel welcome

Jeff: *middle finger*

Liu: *middle finger*

Toby: *laughs evilly*

Nina: I have my doubts

Tim: Puppeteer’s minions are all over the place and I need you to get rid of them

Jeff: oh well in that case I’d be delighted to

Tim: humanely

Jeff: well that’s a lot less fun

Jeff: this time everyone has to catch him, okay? Unless you want me to hurt you

Jeff: I love to suck-

Tim: I swear to fuck if you say dicks

Jeff: popsicles, you sicko! Get your mind outta the gutter

Jeff: but you know, dicks too

Sally: sometimes I kill mother bugs in front of their children as a warning to others

Jeff: NINA?!

Clockwork: uh my name’s Clocky

Jeff: no one gives a shit

Jeff: call me fake one more time, motherfucker

Jeff: i dare you

Toby: fake

Jeff: fucking asshole- *hits his head on roof*

Toby: you done?

Liu: Lyra, sweetie, you uh you good?

Lyra: nope no not really!

Sally: maybe it’s time

Lazari: no

Sally: to ask

Lazari: don’t say it

Sally: your dad

Lazari: UGHHHHHH

Lyra: wait that’s it

Jeff: kill everyone?

Lyra: noooooo

EJ: what’s the hold up?

EJ: you got daddy issues?

Lulu: no we’ve just never been close

Lulu: after Mom died he never really wanted to see me

Lulu: he calls sometimes but only if he’s bored or needs me to do something

EJ: daddy issues

Brian: this is the first time she’s called you in years

Brian: this has to be perfect

Brian, picking up the phone: HEYYYY BITCH

Jeff: you may have heard of me from my radio broadcast

Tim: hmmm NOPE I guess that’s why Toby called it the Hazbin Hotel hahaha

Jeff: hahaha it was actually my idea

Tim: hahaha well it’s not very clever

Jeff: haha fuck you

Toby: OKAY

Brian: you like girls! so do I! We have so much in common

Clockwork: how you been?

Jeff: good! Until five minutes ago

Sadie: hey Sally what you been up to, girlie?

Sally: fighting bugs

Sadie: and how’s that going for you

Sally: they’re winning

Sally: but not for long

Lulu: how come he can have faith in me but my own father can’t?

Jeff: oooooh drama *pulls out popcorn*

Slenderman: hi

Slenderman: Slenderman

Slenderman: that’s my wall that you just blew up

Jeff: don’t fucking shush me bitch

Sadie: I need a break but hug a koala for me

Nina: omg can you imagine an actual KOALA

Jeff: anyway you sure fucked up didn’t you

Jeff: oh Lyra, you look an absolute mess

Sadie: I won’t hurt anyone for you

Jeff: who’s asking?!

Ben: Jeff and Toby just left like they were running away from their responsibilities

Ben: should we be alarmed?

Helen: are you fucking high?

Lulu: oh I’m just kidding

Lulu: I know you’re an ace in the hole

Ann: a what now?

Sally: I named all the stains on the carpet

Sally: that one’s Fred

Liu: look I can’t resist a fight okay

Liu, about Jeff: especially when I get to tag team with this fuckhead

Lyra: live tonight however you want because-

Toby: we’re all gonna die!

Dina: alright let’s give it up for not dying!

Dina: love not dying!

Dina: … drinks?

Jeff: I mean personally I’m excited it’s been a long time since I stabbed someone and really meant it you know what I mean

Lazari: I dub thee king roach

EJ: oh to understand your twisted little mind

Jeff: anyway I guess

Jeff: please don’t die tomorrow

Jeff: okay bye

Lyra: rip Jane’s cunt mouth out her ass

Jeff: would you just- chill, Lyra, fuck

Zero: they appear to have some kind of shield sir

Puppeteer: oh really? I didn’t see this giant fucking shield in front of me YOU DUMB BITCH NO SHIT

Jeff: I’m about to end your fucking life

Puppeteer: fuck you, you red piece of- too much fucking red- fuck shut up

Ben: hahaha poetry

Jeff: what just happened? Ffffuck

Toby: these fucking angels won’t stop coming

Jeff: HA

Toby: okay I walked right into that one

Jane: Before I take your life I’m going to tear that other eye out of your face

Clockwork: try it bitch

Jeff, to Jane: live

Jeff: live knowing that you only do because I let you

Slenderman: see you messed with my daughter so now I am going to FUCK you

Zalgo: …

Clockwork & Lyra: …

Jeff: 😏

LJ: well this just got interesting

Sally: it’s fuck you up, Dad

Slenderman: wait what did I say?

Liu: how’s mercy taste, you little bitch

Slenderman: take your little friends and GO HOME

Slenderman: please

Puppeteer: I’m The Puppeteer

Helen: and I’m-

Puppeteer: nobody gives a shit who you are, Helen

Zero: anyway congrats to Slenderman and his crew for not being totally fucking useless for once

[quinngefail]

So apparently at 19 Lawrence got institutionalized for 6 months from a psychotic breakdown. I’m pretty sure it’s mentioned in one of the video games. Do you think he’d tell Adam about it? How you you think adam would react? (Also why do you think he even had a breakdown?) love you!!! 🩷

Omfg okay okay I haven't played either of the games yet but I intend to. I did not know about that little bit of lore, though..... But tbh it slides in so perfectly with what I've been formulating for backstory headcanons,

I haven't actually written any of this out in my Google doc yet but. I feel like rambling and just laying out the relevant parts of what I've been brainstorming for him-

Putting a cut because this got longer than I thought it would. Also- tw for talks of emotional abuse, alcoholism, and a brief sui mention- nothing super detailed, though.

So uh. I've been imagining him growing up in this wealthy, very controlling, catholic household. And even from a young age it was extremely rare for his parents to even glance at any of his problems.., One part because they were absolutely the types to guilt him with the whole "THERE ARE CHILDREN IN AFRICA STARVING AND YOU'RE SITTING HERE CRYING ABOUT SOMETHING THAT IS SO TRIVIAL" and another part because I imagine his mother was diagnosed with cancer when Lawrence was just a kid. Which was hard on everyone, of course, but this also meant less attention being put on him and his problems (ft. more guilting because you should be grateful that all you have is a scraped knee, stop crying). Basically the response to any of his struggles would very often be Stop Moping and/or Go Pray About It y’know-

Sooo even at a young age, he quickly developed this mindset that none of his problems were actually 'real', because he had it drilled into his head again and again that he was in a far more fortunate + blessed position than others. Which yeah obviously he had a great deal of privilege on his side from the get-go, but he's still allowed to express hurt and his need for love and care, y’know,

So he just starts repressing everything, holding it all inside. Internally minimizing and invalidating just about anything that made him upset. He does this for years, and years. And by the time that first year of college rolls around, he now has the most independence in his life that he's ever had, finally away from that very, very controlling household... And I very much imagine him as the type to just go off the rails almost immediately, especially in the drinking department. His grades rapidly slip, and he knows there will be hell to pay when his parents inevitably find out about all of this- but it's easier to just sit back and drink, and let his cares about everything slip away.

And of course, his parents do indeed find out. And there is indeed hell to pay. More so from his father, though, as his mother's condition has been rapidly deteriorating, which was certainly just one of the many motivators for Lawrence's drinking. And it's not long before she does pass away, which I think was a final straw of sorts for his mental health.

Between the bottles and bottles of repression he's been holding in for years, the drinking, the fact that he's fucked up so badly with college + absolutely fuckin wasted an amount of time and money, the sheer outrage and disappointment from his parents, his mother's death, and the shattering of his already shaky faith (because evidently, praying for his mother's health didn't do a goddamn thing)... It's a wonder he didn't break sooner,

So then this is where him being institutionalized just SLIDES IN SO EASILY... And I do think right before this happened, he had attempted to take his own life, unable to deal with it all. The treatment helps him back onto a straight path. And maybe he'd already been interested in the medical field, but the loss of his mother was sort of the final push towards wanting to pursue oncology specifically. So after being released, it's college take two: and it goes far better than the last time.

However, he develops this fear of losing control again. He finds comfort and necessity in order. He almost needs it to feel okay. He still has a hard time voicing and downplaying his problems, though, still feeling like they're not 'real'... This being a particular souvenir from growing up that he just can't seem to overcome.

He's also not at all surprised to get a call (in either his late 20s or early 30s) that his father had drank himself to death. Just seemed inevitable.

Then, to cut to the Becoming Closer With Adam Era, I don't imagine he has a hard time explaining that both of his parents have passed away, and why. But he has a very hard time disclosing everything else that happened. Because his problems aren't 'real', of course, and it's just an extremely touchy subject for him in general. Been imagining for a while now that he has this whole Thing where he's far more focused on helping Adam with his own problems- and y’know, part of that is just the fact that when they finally reunite in my AU, Adam is obviously deeply in need of help, because things have gotten bad for him in the months following the bathroom trap. But another part is just Lawrence still having troubles with expressing his own struggles; whether they be traumatic incidents of the past, or the more current Jigsaw related traumas.

Adam eventually catches onto this, especially as his problems become less urgent. And while he's not necessarily going to interrogate Lawrence over anything, he does begin to more frequently urge him to talk about things when he's obviously upset. Lawrence still isn't as good at masking as he thinks he is, much to his dismay. Something specific that I imagine Adam reminding him, with a earnest voice of kindness and patience, is that "this isn't just about you helping me, it's about me helping you, too."

Lawrence does eventually start to open up more about his more current struggles, but it takes a good, long while before he begins scratching the surface of that period of his life. They would be upsetting conversations for the both of them, of course, but the fact that they happen at all are just testaments to the trust they've built together. They feel safer and safer being vulnerable with one another, and it brings them closer together.

And maybe, it brings them closer and closer to things finally just feeling okay.

...WOOH If you are here, thank you for reading- didn't think I was going to ramble this much, but EVIDENTLY I HAVE MORE THOUGHTS ON THIS THAN I REALIZED LMAO..... WHEN I SAY I HAVE A SMALL NOVEL WORTH OF THOUGHTS ABOUT THESE TWO I'M NOT LYING HRKSKGK

A lot of this is also still in the brainstorming stage at this point, so things may be subject to change :] WE SHALL SEE...

And thank you for the ask, and the kind words!!! I hope you enjoy my brainrot HSKGK

[jesswritesthat]

Hello!! I just devoured your Haikyuu masterlist and oh my God I love your writing so so so much. Idk how to explain it but it captures the perfect vibes of serious and goofy just like in the show adjkhgghjh i love ittttt. With that being said, could I pls request dating hcs (pre- and post- timeskip) for Oikawa and Iwazumi in a poly relationship with a female s/o? I loved the kagehina one it was so good I wish there was more. Have a good day and stay hydrated!!!

Thank you so much aakaksmndixk! ♥️ This means a lot to me, so I appreciate you taking the time to write this, and of course keep yourself hydrated too anon.

Hope you enjoy~

>>>>——————————>

Being in a Poly-relationship with Oikawa Tōru and Iwaizumi Hajime would include:

• You are their wonderful mediator, although usually you are inclined to side with logical Iwa unless Oikawa manages to secretly bribe you (which he tries quite often).

• Oikawa is more affectionate than Iwaizumi, toward both of you. You’ll get tackled with hugs, surprise kisses, and excited stories the second he gets home to wrap his arms around whoever he sees first.

• Iwaizumi leans more to an acts of service kind of love, he’s always doing little things for you guys that help you out in everyday life. Need something picking up? Got it. Forgot to make lunch? It’s already in the fridge. Want to rant? He’s there with an option of listen or solution.

• Oikawa is quite flirty and you offer your own remarks, as does Iwa (who is probably the most flustered by such things).

“How’s the prettiest human in the world?” Hajime is furiously blushing at your remark and barely manages a response.

“I— you—“

“I’m fine (Y/n)-chan, thanks for asking~” Tōru gladly chimes in, Iwa sighs, but smiles all the same.

“Well our dumbass is clearly fine.”

“Yeah, and I guess he is kinda pretty.” You concluded.

“I’m beautiful! How dare you?!”

• Jealous? No of course not! Well… It certainly affects them both but Oikawa is far more open with expressing it by throwing an arm over your shoulder if someone flirts with you or making an obvious comment that you’re his s/o. Iwaizumi on the other hand will nod to check if you’re okay in the situation, if you signal no then he’ll intervene.

• However if an individual is unlucky enough to suffer their combined force, then it’s two tall intimidating athletes either side of you wearing glares harsher than the sun. Yeah, you’re in safe hands.

• Of course you’re not afraid to help them out of situations either. When it’s Oikawa and his fangirls, you or Iwa will drag him away, or act all lovey which brings Torū to you both within seconds whining about missing out.

• If you ever have a problem, you’ve got a variety of contrasting solutions from the pair.

“They what?! Let’s kick their asses (Y/n)-chan!”

“Or talk to them about how you feel and come to a comprise that suits you all. It’s worth a try before the violence Crappykawa.”

If both are a lost cause then you bet the rest of Seijoh get involved courtesy of your boyfriends.

• Nights in with homemade dinner and volleyball matches playing on the TV are frequent, and the two of them are comparing tactics and commenting on various plays.

• They’re grateful for any input, even if it’s laughing at a slip. Also, don’t worry, if Volleyball isn’t your thing then they’ll alternate a match with a movie so you each have something that interests you and you can share the time together regardless.

• If you are interesting or play, Oikawa will be oh so excited to show off show you, and Iwa will come along too. Tōru uses it as an excuse to touch you and correct your form whilst Hajime gets a bit snappy with his behaviour stating that you’re doing perfectly fine.

• Iwaizumi is a great trainer though, yourself and Tōru have learned a lot from him and joked about how he should be a professional in the future. 🤭

• It gets harder when you all separate across the world. However, you have a group chat for the majority of contact and video calling. Oikawa uses it as an emoji dump and is definitely the most expressive texter out of the three of you.

• Naturally you travel the world a lot to visit one another, often times making into a slight competition. You take a selfie kissing Iwaizumis lips with the two of holding peace signs and send it to Oikawa.

[ (Y/n): Guess who made it to California first loser! ♥️ ]

[ Tōru: Bitch. It’s still 4–3-3 to me btw 😝 ]

[ (Y/n): I’m catching up, I’ll be enjoying my reward until you get here! We love you! ]

• Other times instead of visiting your resident countries, you’ll choose a location and all meet there for a holiday when you can. You often converge at the airport or hotel, sometimes crafting stupid signs for the other to find you quicker.

• It also comes in handy when travelling as you have a combination of Japanese, Spanish, English, and your languages under you belts. Hearing the other converse in their alternative languages is admittedly really cool and you all have random bilingual conversations sometimes to keep it refreshed.

• The Olympics is where their ongoing rivalry gets entertaining, you’re cornered by the pair in one of the many hallways.

“So my beautiful little lover, who are you cheering for? It’s me isn’t it~”

“Shut up dumbass, (Y/n) can pick whoever they want, and Japan is the right choice.”

• However your response shocks them, and gives them a little nostalgia.

“I didn’t come here to see who wins, I came to watch both teams lose~”

“Wha— oh my god!” Tōru remembers it from high school, and so does Hajime.

“Jeez, you’ve been hanging around Shittykawa too long. You’ll have to spend more time on my side of the bed at this rate.”

“Iwa-chan no! This is so unfair!”

“Don’t worry, when you both draw I’ll make you food, cuddle, and cheer you up any way I can.” You happily elaborate, the two of them enamoured by you as always.

“I mean… I’ll still crush you but at least losing has a perk now huh.” Iwa shrugs, Oikawa unwittingly agreeing.

“True, but like you say, I’m going to eliminate you so we’ll see.”

• Even so, as they competed you were grateful for the VIP tickets and accommodation during the Olympics. As an added bonus you got to travel the city with your two favourite people in the world.

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[wnbawag]

Shit, That's Breanna Stewart Part 2

Pairing: Breanna Stewart x reader

Summary: While at UConn, senior physics major reader is required to take an extra class to complete her 'society' core requirement. When she picks 'Sports in Society', the last thing she expects to see on her first day is her basketball crush as her TA.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 858

Note: This is a blurb I had thought of awhile ago that I will be attempting to turn into a series. Not proof read - lemme know if you find any mistakes!

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Series Masterlist

Standing in the doorway and scanning the room for a seat you made eye contact with probably the tallest woman you had seen in your life.

…

Shit

That’s Breanna Stewart.

A chuckle took you off guard. 

“Yeah that’s me, you a basketball fan?” Fuck did you say that out loud? 

Not having a response, you just stood there, staring. Why were you staring?  OH MY GOSH STOP STARING!

Breanna stood in front of you, a bit awkwardly as you did not respond to her. Her face changed from amusement to confusion as you continued to stare.

“Okay uh, well, why don’t you go find a seat? Or, are you okay?” She had made a move to get closer to you, and of course, that is what broke you from your trance. Without a breath, you dashed to the side and up the stairs of the lecture hall. Sliding into one of the middle rows, you avoided eye contact and stared straight in front of you.

Breanna must have decided that you were just a weirdo, as she announced class was starting and began her introductions.

You would love to say you were a good student and listened. You should have taken out a notebook and written down dates and assignments, and taken some notes on her first lecture. But no, you spent the hour fighting with yourself to stare at the board, while your traitorous eyes kept stealing looks at her. 

You barely even noticed when class was over until students around you were packing up. You hadn’t even taken out a pen. Feeling guilty, you grabbed your bag and made for the door, trying to sneak out. You saw Brenna watching you from the corner of your eye. You saw her move to try and catch you before your left, probably to see if you had a condition that made you stupid or something, but you moved just fast enough to get out of the lecture hall and speed through the hallway. Before leaving the building, you stopped in the bathroom and faced yourself in the mirror.

‘Great job, you fucked up on the first day. Out of all the players you could've picked to be madly in love with, did you HAVE to pick Breanna Stewart?’

—

“Ava I don’t think you realize just HOW BAD it was, I stared at her for like five minutes and didn’t say a WORD,” You were facedown on your bed, while your roommate stood in the doorway. You could hear Ava trying to hold back her giggles - not helping Ava!

“Okay well, you were a little shell shocked babes,” Ava managed to get out before smacking her hand back over her mouth, suppressing more giggles.

You groaned into your pillow, still not able to believe you acted the way you did in front of your crush.

The worst part of this all? In addition to being in a #30 jersey, you were feeling extremely judged by your poster of Breanna. 

The poster does not help this situation.

Your very confused mother had gotten it for you the Christmas of your sophomore year, after UConn had won their first national championship with Breanna. It featured Breanna on the court, handling the basketball and looking like she owned the court, full stands able to be seen in the background. 

Still, not helping.

“I personally think this is a wonderful opportunity,” Ava’s words brought you out of your bed, head coming up from your pillow for the first time since you got home.

“How? How would this ever be a wonderful opportunity? I just embarrassed myself, beyond repair, in front of the woman I’ve had a crush on since I was 18,” Saying it out loud, somehow made it worse. 

“Y/n, listen to me,” Ava pushed herself off of your doorway, making her way over to your closet. “It is well known that Breanna is gay, I mean, look at her. Let’s be real,” She threw a playful glance over her shoulder, already rummaging through your closet. 

“You’re hot, you’ve got great tits, and you’re like, tiny,” Feeling slightly put out, you huffed and pushed into a sitting position.

“I’m going to ignore the tits comment, but I am 5’3, I’m a completely normal height for a woman,” Ava rolled her eyes at your statement. She wasn’t much better, measuring in at 5’5, but she insisted you were tiny every chance she got.

“Basketball girls are like men, they love a tiny girl,” With that, Ava conjured a tiny little skirt out of your closet, smirking as she waved it in front of your face.

“And you are going to make her obsessed with you,” 

You playfully shoved Ava away, making her giggle and toss the skirt onto your bed.

“You don’t have to believe me, just think about it,” She shot you a wink and left you alone in your room, with the skirt on your bed.

There’s no way, Breanna wouldn’t give you a second glance, no matter what you were wearing.

That’s it, you decided to ignore Ava’s comments and do what you did best, get ahead on homework.

But, an hour later, Ava’s words were still echoing in your head.

The skirt taunted you from your bed.

Fuck it.

Won’t hurt anyone to try and get Breanna’s attention.

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

I do love my coworkers to be clear they are by and large great people who, despite being tragically cis about it, have no issue with my gender or my presentation.

It's just also funny to watch the occasional newer person/intern try to get a pronoun train going in the meeting and becomes instantly anxious when they stare dead at my clocky ass face during my intro and I just. Don't offer them pronouns. They gotta ask now. They didn't want to. They're so afraid to ask.

And it was that feeling the first time that reminded me of when I first started dating my wife. She told me about how at some point in their relationship, she gets every white person in her life to say the n-word in her presence. She described it as a litmus test. Not just about their resistance to saying it/how long it takes for that to erode, but for how they react while they're saying it and after. Iirc, she has found that resistance is actually less reliable than how the word finally comes through. For her, that reaction is valuable for her in measuring safety of people even if they are good at maintaining plausible deniability about their relationship with race as a construct.

For me, I think it's more about forcing them not to ask me to reassure them that they're still good people if they're confused by my gender. As long as I respond to the unvoiced anxiety, they never actually learn to take responsibility for it. And yeah, with normal anxiety that would be a lil bit of a dick move on my part, but in this case the anxiety specifically comes from "I'm afraid that I don't know how to treat you with respect" as a core conflict against "it is important to me that I am a good person and I believe a good person would treat you with respect." We all of us have to learn eventually how to wrestle with that feeling, on some axis/aspect of our selves. When my wife sat me down and explained that she understood that I didn't want to say it, but that she needed me to be able to say it in her presence so we could work through what showed up there together, I had to face down the fear of "this word means nothing but hate to me and I don't want to believe I could ever see it in relation to you, a person I care about." But I did. Of course I did. Growing up in a racist society means internalizing racist messages, and you can unlearn the ones you can accept being told about. But you can't unlearn jackshit that you can't even look in the eye.

So I said a word I'd never said in my life, and I realized, as I *think* my wife intended, that I shouldn't be afraid of the word. The word doesn't matter. It could just as easily be "taxonomy" and still mean what it means. Because it was the IDEAS being signaled by the words that mattered most, that should be fought and resisted and erased. And if I was too afraid to look at the word and understand what it really meant, I could never actually promise her that I would always work to see her whole humanity and love her for it. She couldn't tell me what words to say for that to be true because the words could say whatever I meant them to say, even I didn't know I meant them. I needed to be able to understand and change on my own.

It's the same thing for me at work. I can't tell my coworkers the right words to say to ensure they don't hurt me. All I can do is hold an open door for their attempts. Hold compassion for the debrief when it goes awry. If they're too afraid of failing their own standards to make that attempt, I cannot be the one to swoop in and save them, because that only deepens the fear of failure for the future. What if the day comes when I'm no longer willing to rescue them? Do they lose their relationship with me? Do they panic and shatter under the pressure the first time it isn't escapable? Better to stand, patient and calm and unmoving, on the other side of the creek with a hand outstretched. Better to catch hold and pull them to solid ground once they take the leap.

And for what it's worth, several coworkers eventually got up the courage to ask on their own! And we had a good talk. And now, they're super chill all the time about ir and great at being kind and respectful, because they mostly all came through with the same realization I had that day way back when. They were looking for a rule to follow so they didn't actually have to think about the beliefs they knew they carried, minor tho they all ended up being. And it wasn't fair to ask me to excuse them from that part of participating in our professional relationship.

I dunno. I have no problem with people who normalize pronoun sharing and I think it's a great tool in the whole kit. But it's just not one I click with myself. And what a grand thing to be able to say to a cis person "Even if you are doing it from a loving place, treating trans people as a monolith that you can "be respectful of" via a one-size-fits-all process is still transphobia and I'm not gonna let you off the hook for it. You have to treat me like a person because you see me as a person. Up to you how you get there."

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.198 Money, money, money

I don't stay in my feelings long because my life is great. Sometimes we think we know what we want, but the grass isn't always greener on the other side. I have everything I need. I love my lone child and my wife more than anything in this world. My sister and her children are the cherries on top of my life's parfait. I have friends whom I love, three beautiful homes, multiple streams of income, good health, and, of course, the fur babies. I don't need much more.

The rain stopped, so I jump at the chance to get started on the treehouse. I get as far as building a quick scaffold before Sophia comes out with an amazing proposal: we should invite Dub, Maia, and Tami over for a cookout. That is the best idea. We had such an awesome time together back in El Ciudad Enamorada, and we all insisted we needed to get together more often. But, of course, life does life things, and we still haven't scheduled anything. Sophia and Maia became good friends on that trip, and I'm glad she's taking the lead on this because, left up to me, we'd probably never do it. I'm always go, go, go, moving onto the next thing. I'm so glad my friends love me because I still suck at keeping in touch.

I give Sophia enthusiastic approval of her plan, so she goes back inside. I get back to building the treehouse, but within minutes I feel cool drops of rain rolling down my face. If this cat-and-mouse situation continues for the rest of the season, I'm never gonna finish this thing. Desiree and the kids will be teenagers and too big for it by the time I'm done. I stow my tools reluctantly and go inside. While it's on my mind, I text Dub to give him a heads up so we can start planning our next family shindig.

I find Sophia breaking in our new sitting area in the kitchen, so I join her. Shortly after, Desi finds us and enters the chat. It's in that moment I feel that release I needed about her going to school. I have no idea how or where that feeling came from, but when school starts back up again, I can let her go without being a worried mess. She loves hanging out with us, but I can tell she's eager to build her own social circle. I'll miss her, but I want her to thrive, and she can't do that hanging around us all the time.

"What do you think about giving Des an allowance?" Sophia asks.

"What's an allowance?" Desiree asks.

I don't say it out loud, but I want to know too. I mean, of course I've heard of it. Kids at school used to talk about how much money they made all the time, but I never understood its purpose. If I needed money, I just asked my mom, and she gave it to me. Most of the time, she gave more than I asked for.

"It's a set dollar amount parents give their children every week for doing chores and things," Sophia says.

I feel my face shriveling in confusion.

"But...shouldn't she do chores anyway because she lives here and should help us take care of the house?" I ask.

"Well, yeah, of course she should. It's not really about paying her to do the chores. It's more about teaching fiscal responsibility. My parents gave me an allowance, and it made me feel like I had more freedom."

I understand what she's saying, but I think we could accomplish the same things without the salary. My mom didn't just hand out money when we were kids. She started that in our adulthood when we could appreciate the extra funds. She always questioned our money requests, wanting to know our plan for it and all. We'd talk about it, and sometimes she would say no because it wasn't a good idea. I think those kinds of conversations are more valuable than letting a child have their own money to buy insane amounts of candy or whatever. But what do I know? I'm just a first-time parent with limited life experience.

"If you think it's a good idea, fine," I say. "I don't think it's necessary, but I'm sure she'd enjoy it."

I look over at Desi, and she's beaming, already spending the money in her head. I really hope this is a good idea.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

The Art of Etiquette Part 2 | Jeon Jungkook

Summary: You try to back out on being a debutant so you can stop taking lessons with Mr. Jeon but your mother is going to do everything she can to make you follow through Paring: f!reader x Etiquette instructor Jungkook Word Count: 2k~ Warnings: Like one cuss word but thats about it lol a/n: Let me know how you guys are liking this! I was planning on posting this later but I wanted to see if posting around this time would be better :) p.s. roughly edited lol

"Mom! Mom! Where are you?" I yell as soon as I get home. "I'm right here so please stop yelling, you know that there is no yelling in this household" she scolds. "Okay, then why did you yell at me when I got a bad grade on my midterm paper?" I throw in her face. "Watch your tone y/n I am still your mother" she retorts. "Now what is it?" she says quickly turning the conversation back to it's intended course. 

"I can't do this" I say and start making my way to the living room with her soon trailing behind. "Do what?" she sighs once we've both sat down. "This whole debutante thing, it's not for me" I say hoping it would pacify her but knowing for a fact that would never happen. "You're doing it!" she says, wanting to end the conversation already. 

"No I'm not!" I argue back "I'm not cut out for this thing. This life of high society and playing nice with strangers, pretending like you actually care about what they're talking about. I just can't pretend to be someone I'm not" I explain but unfortunately she'll have none of it. "Did something happen at your lessons today?" she asks, hoping to find the cause of my anxieties.

"Nothing happened" I huff, standing up and making my way to my room. "Obviously something happened since you always seem to have something to say about everything even at the most inopportune times" she says, obviously exacerbated by the memories. "Are you talking about the time I added staying alive to the set list at grandpa's funeral?" I question chuckling at the memory. 

"See this is exactly why you need those lessons. It's time to grow up, and if you're not ready to do that yet then I'll just have you get a job and start paying your own tuition so you can learn on your own what it means to be an adult" she threatens. "James said that he would pay for my tuition if I decided I wanted to go back to college. You can't take that away from me!" I argue and stop in my tracks, surprised and upset that she would even stoop that low. 

"Since you still feel the need to whine over small sacrifices such as these then it looks like we should probably start giving you some more responsibilities so you will grow up. Just take the damn lessons y/n, it would really make your father and I happy if we could introduce you to everyone properly" she explains softening her tone towards the end.

"But he-" I start, wanting to tell her what my instructor made me do but we're cut off by the sound of James getting home. "How are my two lovely ladies doing?" he asks while giving my mother a kiss on her temple. "Oh we're fine, y/n was just telling me how much she enjoyed her first lesson right?" she says giving me a stern face, daring me to say otherwise.

"Oh yeah they were great Mr. Jeon seems like a very nice man" I say giving him a half smile, forcing the answer out of myself. I hate lying to him, especially since he's been nothing but nice to me so far. A lot nicer than my mother that's for sure, so I would hate to mess things up with him. 

"Well that's great news! Especially since he called me just now and asked if you would like to take more lessons with him. It seems like he's taken a special interest in you and wants to really make sure you're set up for success. Would that be something that you would like?" he asks, thankfully leaving the decision up to me but with the glare my mother is giving me it seems like from her point of view there's only one obvious answer for this question.

"That works for me. Whatever you both think would be best is fine by me" I say, doing my very best to sound as genuine as possible even though I'm dying inside. 

"Wonderful! He's asked if we could do three days of etiquette and two days of dance lessons during the week and on days closer to events we should do dance lessons on the weekend before the event as well. That schedule work out alright for you?" he asks while taking out his phone to no doubt send a message to Matthew to contact Mr. Jeon tomorrow morning so he's prepared for my newly scheduled lessons as well.

"Yes that's fine but where will I be taking my dance lessons?" I question now confused as to why Mr. Jeon would speak to James about them as well. "Oh I didn't tell you?" he's your dance instructor as well" James says and leaves to his office to take a phone call. 

"No fucking way am I dancing with that man" I say turning back to my mother once he's out of earshot. "Did he do something that made you feel uncomfortable?" she asks, just now deciding to finally ask why I didn't want to take the lessons. "No he's just a dick" I huff, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Really, that's the reason? What did you expect? He's meant to teach you to act like a lady and let's be honest, a nice sweet approach isn't going to work on you" she says and makes her way to who knows where, to do who knows what. With how big this house is it could honestly be anything. 

~~~~~~~~

"So is he hot?" Jesse asks, clearly interested in how things went yesterday. "I mean I guess but he's too rude for me to even begin to pay attention to that" I huff, frustrated at the thought of him alone. "What's his name?" he asks, taking out his phone to look him up.

"I don't remember but his last name is Jeon" I say taking a bite out of my sandwich. "J-o-h-n?" he questions, confused at the unusual surname. "No J-e-o-n. I'm pretty sure he's Korean" I say and slide over to his side to see what he can dig up on him.

"Jeon Private Etiquette Tutor" he types in and hits enter. "Woah" both of us say, seeing how many articles and pictures of him with actors, CEOs and public figures there are.

"This guy must be loaded" Jesse says, clearly stunned at who he's worked with. "And he's hot! Damn girl you really won if this Jungkook guy wants to see you five times a week" he says and keeps on clicking through everything he can get him hands on about him.

"And seven days a week when there's some stupid event I have to go to" I groan just thinking about how many hours of my life I'm going to waste with him. 

"He's only 27, I wonder if he's single" Jesse says winking at me. "For me or for you because you can have him" I scoff making him laugh.

"No take backs! Well, unless he's straight. Then you can have him back. No matter how heartbreaking that might be" he says, wiping away fake tears.

"Sorry to break it to you babe but he probably wouldn't go for either of us" I say placing a hand on his shoulder and getting up to leave.

"Hey! Where are you going? We don't start class for another half an hour" he yells after me. "I gotta go change since he wants me to be 'dressed like a lady' when I come and I won't have time after class" I yell turning to face him as I walk backward for a second. "Alright, have fun Barbie" he yells as I get further away to which I respond with a shake of my head as I make my way over to my car. 

~~~~

"Acceptable" Jungkook says taking in my form. "Although the hem is far too short" he says looking down at my legs again before looking back up and making eye contact with me. "It was all I could find on such short notice" I explain but unfortunately he isn't satisfied with my answer. 

"Excuses will get you no where, you either do it or you don't. I'm sure you could have put in a little more effort into finding something more suitable if you had tried. Let's remedy the situation by the next class shall we?" he finishes off sarcastically before turning his back to me and walking over to the sound system in the corner of the room and I take the chance to stick my tongue out at him in retaliation. 

"You do you realize there are mirrors in this room correct?" he asks, clearly not amused with what he had seen me doing. "My apologies Mr. Jeon" I settle on, not bothering to give an excuse this time. "But are you really?" he asks, walking back towards me slowly, his voice an octave lower, catching me off guard. "N-no" I answer truthfully, nervous with the way he stalks towards me with clear displeasure enveloping his entire existence. 

He leans towards me talking directly into my ear, clearly using tactics to show his dominance over the situation. "Let us be honest with each other then. It would be a waste of both of our time if we were to do otherwise" he say sending shivers down my spine and I hate that it's something I couldn't have controlled even if I wanted to. "Is that clear?" he asks, his warm breath hitting my neck making my mind feel clouded, leaving me confused on how to respond to him leaving me only being able to nod in response.

"Good" he says leaning back, giving what I had hoped for was a little more room to breathe. "Next time use your words" he says tilting my chin up just as he had done at my last lesson. "Yes Mr. Jeon" I say quietly, leaving him satisfied with my cooperation and straightening back up to go back to what he had been working on.

'What the fuck was that? What the fuck was that? What THE FUCK was that?' I ask myself over and over and over again. I'm startled out of my circular train of thought and am met with what I can assume is some sort of waltz music running through the twin speakers on either side of the wall that the sound system is placed against. 

"I can't dance" I voice out, sticking to my word and answering the question before he bothered to ask. "I thought as much, ballroom dancing is a lost art amongst the youth of your generation" he says adjusting a few more things before coming back over to me. 

"You speak of my generation as if it was much younger in comparison to yours" I respond crossing my arms over my chest in defiance. "Were you perhaps curious enough to inquire about me?" he asks finally turning around to face me, making his way back over to me as he had done before, having caught me red handed leaving me changing my position, holding my hands together and having them rest against my thighs.

"I had just assumed based off of how youthful you look" I respond, giving him a forced compliment, not wanting to admit to what I had done. Well, really what Jesse had done but again he would see right through me. "Haven't we agreed to be honest with each other?" he questions reaching his hand out and easily pulling my hands apart. Placing one of mine on his shoulder and the other held in his hand, leaving his free one to rest on my waist. 

"Do as I say and hopefully we'll come out of this without any injuries" he says practically daring me to make a mistake. "But of course" I say and straighten my posture to match his and follow his lead as best as I can. 

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[joe-spookyy]

hi today i’m ranking werewolf designs based on how much i judged the vfx team for creating them. full post under cut sorry it’s so insanely long but trust me on this one it’s fun i’m discussing an american werewolf in london harry potter twilight the wolf man buffy the vampire slayer etc and so on (except not etc that’s it.) my credentials are i’m insane about werewolf narratives and i’m the boss of the applesauce.

first up is an american werewolf in london. now THAT is a good beast. he’s spooky. he’s scary. he’s wolf-like but not Just a wolf. and they get some mega extra points for that transformation sequence. rick baker the man that you are. however as much as i love it there’s a few critiques i have to bring up. first. it’s kinda odd that so much of the color palette for the transformation scene was browns and blacks when the actual werewolf was mostly grey. the final product was a little off from the transformation. i did like both of them quite a lot though so i’m not that mad. see. look. kind of off. but it’s definitely not bad i can mostly see how one came from the other even though the colors might be a little different. it also sort of lacks in facial movement in its final form as it’s kind of stuck in that permanent snarl, but they did a good job softening its eyes in the final scene where alex is trying to get through to david. 9/10.

mid-transformation fully transformed

next up yeah i have stuff to say about the harry potter prisoner of azkaban remus lupin design. is it fuck ugly. yes. is it cgi. yes. is jk rowling responsible for it. yeah. however. is it kind of a creative take on the typical werewolf idea. i hate to say it. yes it is. it goes against the typical sorta big strong hunky beast werewolf, and i cant lie, i appreciate it. it’s unique and kinda haunting in its own way. i don’t like that it’s bald. but i like the boldness and well. they got creative. 6/10.

ugly fucking freak ⬆️

next i’m going back. way back. yes sir we’re looking at werewolf of london. from 1935. and the wolf man. from 1941. cause they look pretty similar and they’re both jack pierce so yeah i’m lumping them together. if you ask me these ones lean more to the side of wolfman than werewolf - they’re kind of just hairy guys. which is like fine i guess i just think they should put more emphasis on the wolf. i like the wolfman better than the werewolf of london, which makes sense, cause i know the guy playing the london one didn’t feel like sitting for makeup and so jack pierce got to do more on the second round i guess. however WHY was bela lugosi’s werewolf form a straight up wolf and not lon chaney’s? they don’t explain it. rude. they’re iconic of course but they are honestly not showstopping. 5/10.

werewolf of london the wolf man

alright we’re flashing back to the present with twilight!! yeah. ok so last time i was complaining about there being too much man and not enough wolf. or like. too much were? i don’t know. whatever. anyways. this time i’m complaining because it’s too wolf. that’s just. it’s just a big cgi wolf. i don’t like this. it’s boring. i don’t even have that much to say it’s just like. whatever. 2/10.

lame as hell ⬆️

now. i’m gonna get irritating here. next up is buffy the vampire slayer. now i love oz. i wanted to like the design i really did. and they started out off strong. well. strongER. it’s like. kinda bad. but it definitely looks like a wolf? and it’s. kind of person ish? i don’t know. they tried. the bodysuit is loose but it’s better than what’s to come so i have to give it like a tiny bit of respect. 4/10.

see? not great but could be significantly worse.

and it does get worse. so. let me speak. this is the worst thing i have ever seen in my entire goddamn life. that looks like a gorilla. there’s like barely any semblance of wolf on this other than that it has fur. i don’t understand why they decided to go in this direction it looks terrible. and the body suit part always looks loose as hell. it comes across as like an ugly gorilla mascot suit, and they make no effort to have it move in a remotely wolf-ish way. they usually just have it scuttling around like some sort of little freak. oz does not deserve this ugly shit. i love buffy and wanted to enjoy the werewolf episodes but lord have mercy. this sucks. whoever did this i’m gonna find you. 0/10.

oz (bad) evil bitch veruca (worse)

that’s all the werewolves i can think of right now actually. and it won’t let me add more pictures cause i’m on mobile. in conclusion an american werewolf in london did it best and every other depiction of a werewolf should be looking to that for inspiration. but fight me on these by all means i may have objectively correct werewolf opinions but that doesn’t mean i’m not open to discussion. thanks for watching #sparkleon

[berenwrites]

Late Again? - Stranger Things - Steddie - PG

Rating: PG | cw: mentions of sex | tags: fluff, rich Steve, post Vecna

Prompt: Love is being late to work because you can’t ever say goodbye in a reasonable amount of time (@sharpbutsoft)

A/N: Written for @steddielovemonth day 14. Happy Valentine’s Day everyone. Hope you are having a great day full of love be it platonic or romantic.

Also on AO3 soon | All My Other Stranger Things Fic

Late Again?: Love Is Too Compelling!

“You should just quit,” Eddie said, doing his very best to drag Steve back to bed.

“And leave Robin alone?” he replied, slipping out of his boyfriend’s grip. “I couldn’t. She took a year out so she could earn some money for college, and I won’t leave to her deal with Keith on her own.”

“Let me guess, you offered to give her the money and she said no,” Eddie said, flopping back onto the pillows.

“Yep,” he said, searching around for his work vest. “She’s being stubborn, wants to earn her own way. I’ve tried explaining that since my Grandpa died I have more money than I know what to do with, but she keeps telling me I might need it in the future. It was hard enough to get her to let me pay for some proper driving lessons. Her dad is great, but good at teaching driving he is not.”

“I’ve seen her dad drive,” Eddie agreed, “he’s almost as erratic as his daughter.”

“They do take after one another sometimes,” Steve said, holding his prize aloft when he finally found his vest down the back of the nightstand.

They might have been somewhat enthusiastic the previous evening given how their clothes seemed to be in very random places. Not that Steve would ever complain. His sex life with Eddie was amazing, which went right along with how much he had fallen in love with his metalhead boyfriend.

“Please come back,” Eddie whined. “Just for five minutes.”

“You mean like yesterday’s five minutes?” he responded. “If I am late again, Robin might actually tell Keith, and I’ll have to sit through another one of his lectures about company loyalty and responsibility.”

He was very glad to find he still had plenty of clean underwear in the drawer when he pulled it open. Laundry day was a way off yet, thank heavens.

“Am I not worth it?” was Eddie’s next gamble in the dragging him back to bed game.

“Of course you’re worth it,” he said, leaning down for a quick kiss on the way to the bathroom, “but I happen to have the keys today.”

“I shall lay here and pine away thinking of how I have been abandoned,” Eddie added with huge drama.

“Write me a new song,” Steve shot back, sticking his head back into the bedroom after grabbing his toothbrush. “You know how hot I think that is.”

“I feel like an old-timey bard with a rich benefactor,” Eddie replied.

“Yeah, well when you and the band are rich and famous, I’ll be your kept man, okay?” he said with a laugh.

Eddie had tried to find a job in town after he had been begrudgingly allowed to graduate, but no one would hire him. Even though he had been completely exonerated and even made into a bit of a hero by Owens’ carefully created cover story, Hawkins was slow to believe. After Steve’s grandfather had died and he’d inherited a ridiculously large amount of money and the house in Hawkins, which it turned out his parents had never owned, Steve had offered to give Eddie the time and space to chase his dream.

It had taken some persuading, but neither of them planned to go anywhere until the kids were graduated, just in case it wasn’t as over as everyone said, so Eddie had finally acquiesced. Eddie had a set up in the basement where the band could also practice and, these days, he’d just about moved in permanently too. Technically he and Wayne had a house thanks to government hush money, but Eddie spent most of his time at Steve’s, and they had Wayne over whenever Wayne was free.

“Stevie,” Eddie called from the other room as Steve started the shower.

“Yeah?” he called back.

“Have you ever actually told Robin how much you inherited?” Eddie asked.

“Um,” he said as he thought about that. “No,” he realised, “but I did tell her I had so much I didn’t know what to do with it.”

Throwing around numbers had felt kind of wrong.

“You do realise you don’t exactly live an extravagant lifestyle these days, right?” Eddie said and Steve turned to find his boyfriend now standing in the doorway.

He shrugged.

“Guess I got used to budgeting,” he replied.

“Which is very noble, gracious knight,” Eddie said with a grin, “but are you sure she gets just how filthy rich you are now? I didn’t until you showed me the numbers.”

Steve had never thought of it like that. Throwing some of the paperwork he’d been given by the lawyers at Eddie had been part of his last-ditch attempt to convince his boyfriend to take him up on his offer.

“Ah, maybe not,” he had to admit.

“Then I shall return to bed and mourn your parting quietly today,” Eddie said, back to his dramatic flair, “but give Robin the numbers and invite her to be your live-in lesbian of leisure.”

“Our,” Steve corrected as he laughed at Eddie’s choice of words.

This was why he was sure Eddie had more than enough talent to eventually go global. One day Eddie’s words and music would be famous, he had no doubt. Using the money he had never expected to receive to give Eddie the time and space to realise his dream, seemed like the perfect plan.

“I still don’t know if she’ll say yes,” he said, pulling back the shower curtain to climb in, “but I will tell her. Now shoo before I’m tempted to be late again, because if she’s mad at me she won’t even give me the chance to talk.”

“As my liege orders,” Eddie said and bowed, which was hilarious given he was naked.

Steve gave himself a stiff mental talking to and refused to look too long. After all, he only had so much will power.

All My Other Stranger Things Fic

[artist-issues]

i know you are in your Wish Criticism and Analysis Era (love to see it, very interesting takes!!), but i was wondering if you could spare some thought as to why you thought that the moral/lesson of Encanto was not great? in my eyes, it was always mostly about forgiving and moving past generational trauma... even if the movie didn't fully execute on that hah

I can try! I haven't gone over it in my brain in a while. Sometimes answering questions helps me verbally do it, though.

I guess I should clarify. The message in Encanto isn't outright evil...it's just a little tricky to try and teach in the story that they used, without also saying a bunch of stuff that is problematic. I'll try to explain.

The main point in Encanto seems to be something like: "You don't have to be perfect: just being yourself is special enough."

Easy enough. When anyone in the Madrigal family tries to meet Abuela's super-high standards, it turns out to be hurtful. The more Pepita holds her emotions in, the more tense and stressed she gets. The more Luisa tries to carry, the more tense and stressed she gets.

But the problem is, the movie so often gets TOO CLOSE to portraying the opposite of "just being yourself is special enough" as "give your life for others." It tiptoes too close toward the "self-focus is beneficial" line.

The Madrigal family occupation, the thing Abuela is pushing them all too hard to do, is not something bad. She wants them to use their gifts to help others. But Abuela is a (sympathetic) antagonist in the movie.

And it's explained. You feel for her. She apologizes and there's forgiveness, like you said--I'm just saying, it's tiptoeing up to a line that isn't always the most responsible line to show to kids, in a kids' movie. Kids do not generally need help questioning whether or not their parents are being too controlling, or too pushy, or wanting too much--kids usually already lean too far in that direction on their own.

But like. The problem is, there's an equal-opposite lesson each of the character could learn that I think is better for kids, when they're kids.

Pepita should be free to feel, genuinely --> yeah, but Pepita also shouldn't let her emotions get so out of control that they hurt others.

Luisa shouldn't be expected to carry every family burden --> No, but in general it's a good thing to "bear one another's burdens in love" and do whatever you can to help, even if it's heavy.

Isabella shouldn't have to act happy & pretty constantly, and marry for the good of others --> Of course not, but it is good to be able to find joy and act genuinely joyful in all circumstances.

Mirabel shouldn't have to have the same level of accomplishments and abilities as everyone else in order to feel loved --> No, she shouldn't at all, but also, it is never a good idea to say to yourself "there's no room for improvement in me because I'm already enough and perfect; no flaws that need apologizing for or changing."

Abuela shouldn't focus so much on controlling what her family does even if it's for their own good --> No, absolutely not, but in general, an older woman who guides and teaches her family on how to selflessly serve others is considered wise, not controlling.

Bruno shouldn't have to only tell people what they want to hear to be accepted --> no, obviously not, but he shouldn't be so constantly negative that he's causing everyone around him to be anxious (I know that simplifying it because he had a literal power to explain the future and they asked him to, but I'm talking about the lessons kids could glean.)

And that's my main beef (it's not even that big a beef; I thought Encanto was so well-done.) My main beef is that it's a movie kids will be influenced by, but the themes and lessons are really more helpful for an audience of college or even high-school-aged people. People who are old enough to have that level of discernment to say:

"Yeah, it's good that Abuela is trying to teach her family to be selfless and safe, but she goes too far by being fearful and controlling; yeah, it's good to control your emotions, but not if you go so far that you're not allowed to be vulnerable at all; yeah, it's good to want to help others by lending your strength to share their loads, but not if you go so far that you get your sense of worth from your success; yeah, it's good to stay positive and be a light to others, but not if you go too far and become a faker; yeah, it's good to be able to recognize your flaws, but not if you get your sense of worth from making up for them."

Those are the sort of sub-lessons Encanto teaches: "don't make decisions based out of fear (fear that you're losing your worth, your identity, your loved ones, your future, the love of others.)"

I'm just saying, kids aren't going to be able to pick those sub-lessons out as easily. What will probably stick with them is the idea of grandmother = wrong; spending your life helping others = stressed and losing your superpowers etc.

But ultimately, it's a movie with a lot of heart, and this idea of grace and unconditional love, so it is not a big mistake or a loss or anywhere near what I'd rank Turning Red and Wish. It's just a little...reckless for a kid's movie. 🤷‍♀️

[candy12110]

That's The Way Love Goes

Chiaki Nanami x f!reader

Request for my baby gworl @addi-mation

"you are not going to die,"

"I haven't seen you laugh in a while,"

"So this is what a hug is like, it's warm,"

—————<3<3<3<3————

"Chiaki!" You called out to the girl. It was a Saturday and you two had made plans to hang out. A movie based on a video game Chiaki loved had come out a few days ago, and seeing how you had a crush on her you took any chance to hang out with her.

"Oh, name. I was waiting for you," Chiaki spoke in her general soft monotone. You two had decided to meet up at the station exit so you could walk to the theater together.

"Sorry, was I late?" You asked sheepishly.

"No, I was just early. I'm really excited to see this movie with you," She gave you a slow sweet smile and caught you by your waist. It was soft and gentle and gave you all kinds of feelings you didn't think you could experience in just a few seconds.

"Ah, Chiaki smiled at me! My life is complete. I can now die happily," You pretended to faint on her.

"I smile at you all the time, silly. You are not going to die," She joked, patting your waist. You leaned against her for a few seconds longer before lifting yourself off of her, staying close enough to brush against her.

"You don't know that. One day you're gonna smile at me and I'm just gonna stop breathing," You flirted with her, laying your head against her shoulder.

"Then I guess I should take a cpr course just in case," She replied. You weren't sure if she was flirting back but it still made you flustered. You moved to straighten up and put some distance between you when Chiaki lightly grabbed your hand, tugging you back to her side.

"Don't move so far away. We'll end up separated by the crowd," She explained keeping hold of you as she started leading you down the street.

"O-oh okay," You stuttered, heart pounding as you looked at her from behind. She was so pretty.

You both walked in silence until you reached the theater. You thanked every deity and ancestor that she continued to hold your hand even after you arrived. You were a little early for your showing so you went to the concession stand to get some popcorn and sodas for the movie. She let go of your hand to take her popcorn and drink and led you to a table, placing everything down before taking your hand again.

"Did you play the game before?" Chiaki asked, sipping at her soda. You were still flustered by her holding your hand but you did your best to calm down enough to answer.

"Yeah. I wanted to be able to enjoy it the way you would so I binged the game afterschool all week," You answered honestly.

"Great. I'm happy we'll both be able to understand everything,"

"Me too," You responded, taking a sip of your own drink.

"Though I wouldn't have hated explaining things to you or playing together if you'd asked. It would've been something nice to do together," She mused. You froze in surprise. You had thought about asking her but you didn't want to be annoying or make her have to move at your pace.

"Yeah, missed opportunity," You answered, internally beating yourself up. Chiaki hummed softly in response. Her hum made you fall deeper into a puddle of self doubt and confusion. Your face heated up as you remembered why you liked her in the first place and you felt like you were dying a slow horrible death. She was kind, considerate and extremely cute but... you hadn't ever said anything about your feelings to her.

"I think our movie is starting soon. Let's go," She said, standing up and grabbing her snacks and belongings. You both walked to the ticket checker and got cleared before going straight to your showing. You took your seats and sat through the previews.

————

After the movie finishes you both get up and dump your trash. You freshen up in the bathroom before leaving the theater and heading to a cafe. You each get tea and a slice of cake while you sit and talk.

"I really liked the movie. I didn't expect it to actually take so much from the game," You spoke.

"Yeah. I heard the writers worked closely with the creators from the game."

"Hopefully they do that more often. I think they're coming out with a tv show based on the game too," You had, of course, done your research in an attempt to impress her.

"They are. The first season comes out next month. Wanna watch it together?" Chiaki asked. Why would you ever refuse the chance to spend time with your crush?

"Of course!"

The conversation dies out for a bit as you both walk out of the cafe. Your hands brush as you walk through the semi-empty street. You so badly want to take her hand but before you can try she takes your hand and intertwines your fingers, the lightest blush on her cheeks.

"I had a lot more fun than I was expecting for a first date."

"D-date?!" You squeaked. You were treating it like a date but you didn't know she was as well.

"Was this not a date? I'm sorry if I was just making assumptions," Chiaki said to your surprise and excitement.

"No! No, it was! I mean I want it to be as long as you want it to be."

"Good. I wanted it to be one too. I'll plan our next date," She agreed.

"N-n-next date?" You stuttered over your words, a warm feeling shooting through your chest.

"Did you not want to go on another date?" She asked, a little anxious.

"I-I do. I'd love to go on another date with you.

I'd go on a thousand dates with you!"

"You're so silly but that's a very good goal to work towards. I'll do my best to make it come true," Chiaki squeezes your hand teasingly.

"O-okay."

"Can I hug you or are you too overwhelmed right now?" She joked.

"Please hug me," You whispered, trying not to sound desperate.

She gently wrapped her arms around your waist and yours wrapped around her shoulders. You held her gently for fear she'd regret it and tell you to let go of her.

"I'm not going to break you know," She urges you.

"Sorry," You say shyly and properly squeezed her.

"So this is what a hug from you is like, it's warm."

"Yeah, I wasn't sure if you liked hugs."

"I like them from you," She responded in the same soft voice that confused you on whether she was just flirting or being serious.

"You're really going to make my heart stop one of these days," You whined into her shoulder. You could feel her shoulders begin to shake from the giggles leaking from her mouth at your overdramatic behavior. You pulled back to see her happy expression.

"I haven't seen you laugh in a while," You mused out loud.

"But you're always making me smile. We can always try for more laughter later."

"I'd love that."

[austinsgirl]

Rather Die | Chapter 12

warnings: talks of pregnancy, jealousy, fluff, swearing

word count: 1776

———————————————————————

A couple days have gone by, and Victoria is ready to talk to Austin about her possibly being pregnant with his baby.

She texts him, as her heart pounds.

"Hey, I know I'm probably the last person you'd be wanting to hear from right now, but there's something I need to talk to you about. Can we meet? In private?"

Austin replies, "Hey. Uh, yeah sure. You can come over my house right now if you want."

"Okay, that works. Send me your address and I'll be on my way."

Austin sends over his address & Victoria heads over to his place.

It's a decent sized house. Not too big, not too small. Definitely bigger than anything Victoria has lived in.

There's lots of wooden walls, which seems to be a trend in homes nowadays, giving them a mid century modern feel, which is definitely what Austin is going for with his decor & use of cool and warm tones.

"So, what's this you need to talk to me about?" Austin says, letting Vic inside.

"Um, we should probably sit down for this." she says.

"Okay."

Austin leads her into the living room where a grand piano sits & a movie poster for Elvis' movie "King Creole" hangs on the wall above.

"You can have a set anywhere." Austin says. "Do you want anything to drink? Water? Soda?"

"No, I'm okay. Thanks though." Vic sits down in a chair. Austin sits across from her on the couch.

"Okay. What's up, Vic?"

"Um, there's no real easy way to say this, so I'm just gonna come out and say it I guess. I....am pregnant. And it's a very good possibility that...you're the father."

Austin sits there in silence for a moment, in shock before he says anything. "How is it a possibility that I could be the father?"

"Well, from the time that we hooked up to the time I started having symptoms, it would make sense."

"And you took a test?"

"Yes, Austin, of course I took a test."

"You know those aren't always accurate, right?"

"Um, I think most of the time they are, and I took two of them, both being positive."

"And I assume it could also be Ashton's because you were fucking him at the same time."

"Correct. The same day actually."

"You fucked both of us in the same day? That's some Eliana behavior."

"Oh shut up, Austin. You're one to talk. And you more so fucked me than I fucked you."

"What do you mean?"

"You made out with me & Eliana in the same night."

"Yeah, but I didn't fuck you both in the same night."

"Same difference."

"Are you keeping it?"

"Yeah. I'm keeping it. It's a miracle I even got pregnant with being told my chances are low. I've always dreamt of having my own baby someday, and if I can have this work out, I'm going to do it. I never know if I'll ever be able to get pregnant again."

"I guess that makes sense. If I am the father, I want to be apart of its life."

"You do?"

"Yeah."

"You'd want to co-parent with me?" Vic asks shocked.

"Yes. If it's my baby, I'm going to take responsibility & I won't let you do it alone. I wouldn't want any of my children not knowing who their father is if I can help it."

"Wow...um. Okay. I'm just surprised you'd want to do that with how we are."

"Look, I don't completely hate you. I could be civil for the rest of our lives for the sake of our child."

If Austin was being honest, he'd say he doesn't hate her at all & is in fact, in love with her. But still, he keeps playing along as if he doesn't because he's pretty well sure that Victoria doesn't & won't ever feel the same.

"If you can do that, so can I."

"Great. I'm glad we're on the same page. Now, what's the next step? A paternity test?"

"Yes. I, um, actually already made the appointment. It's my first ultra sound, and then paternity test as well. Technically, only one of you needs to test, say if we're not a match it's obviously Ashton's. Ashton will be testing, but you're more than free to join."

"I'll be there. Just give me the info & I will be there. Also, how is it very possible?"

"Okay, it's next Friday at noon, at the St. Joe's doctors office in Studio City. And it's very possible as we didn't use any protection, unlike Ashton & I did."

"Oh.." he responds. "Even if I'm not the father, I know we're not the bestest of friends, but if you ever need anything, let me know."

"Thanks, Austin."

It's now next Friday, the day of the appointment.

Victoria is joined at the doctors by both Ashton & Austin.

The boys haven't said a single word to each other except "Hello" & the room has a very awkward silence as they wait for the doctor, which is driving Victoria insane.

"Okay. I know this is awkward, but can we just not sit in silence? I feel like I'm being put in the middle of a feud right now."  Victoria breaks the silence.

"I just don't know what to say." Austin speaks up. "Um, I'm sorry, Ash. And Vic. For putting you in this situation. I shouldn't have even tried to have sex with you."

"Thanks, Austin. No worries, man." Ashton says.

"Good, I'm glad you guys are like, cool. Also, Austin, I'm sorry too. If I hadn't fell for it, you wouldn't have been brought into this. It's just all my fault for being an idiot."

The doctor walks in before either boy could respond.

"Hi, Victoria, nice to see you again." Dr. Martin, Victoria's gyno comes in. "I see you got yourself into a little predicament?"

Victoria laughs nervously, "Haha, yeaaah."

"And we're also surprised this even happened, aren't we?"

"Very."

"Now who are the possible candidates?"

"This is my boyfriend, Ashton, and this is my costar for my new movie, Austin Butler." Victoria introduces them both to Dr. Martin.

Austin dies a little inside hearing her call Ashton her boyfriend.

"Oh, I thought you looked familiar." Dr. Martin says to Austin. "You play Elvis in the movie right?"

"Yes, yes I do ma'am." Austin says, blushing & smiling.

Victoria feels butterflies seeing him all cute like that. She immediately shakes them off, remembering her actual boyfriend is right there.

"You were fantastic in that. Must have taken a lot of work to get the voice down."

"Oh, yeah. Definitely. But thank you." he replies.

"Okay, so we'll do the ultrasound, see how far along you are, and then we'll do a noninvasive prenatal paternity test. I'll take blood from each of you to conduct a fetal cell analysis. A genetic profile compares the fetal cells present in the mother's bloodstream to the alleged father's. The result is more than 99 percent accurate. Those results will take a of couple weeks, just keep an eye out on your St. Joe's online account for the results to be posted."

Everyone nods their head in agreement to everything that's going down.

The ultrasound starts. Victoria & Ashton hold hands, as Austin leans against the wall. Jealousy eats at him seeing the happy couple. He wishes it was him that was holding her hand.

"Well, I can confirm that you are in fact pregnant. Congratulations, 'Mom'." Dr. Martin says as she finds the embryonic sac.

Victoria & Ash smile bright, Austin gives a shy smile, still being filled with jealousy.

"Alright, there's the little one right here. Looks like you're measuring out to be about 6, almost 7 weeks. Here's the head starting to form, and then the body. Very similar to a tadpole."

As soon as Austin sees the little fetus on the monitor, the jealousy goes away and his heart swells, knowing that could be his. He gets misty eyed, which he wasn't expecting.

Of course, Vic & Ash are the same. All happy tears.

Dr. Martin takes some photos before cleaning up Victoria from the ultrasound gel & putting the machine to the side.

"Here's the first pictures of baby. I'm going to go get the stuff for the blood samples. I'll be right back." she says.

"I can't believe this is real. I really never thought I'd be here in this moment right now. As much as this is going to suck because my career is just now getting somewhere, I'm excited." Victoria says, looking at the pictures.

"You're gonna be a great mom, Vic." Austin says.

"Thanks, Austin." she says, with a kind of confused tone. She wasn't expecting to hear that from him.

Dr. Martin comes back into the room & she gets a blood sample from each person.

"Alright, everyone is free to go. Like I said, it'll take a couple weeks for the results. Just keep an eye online for them to be posted."

"Will do. Thank you, Dr. Martin." Victoria says.

"Of course. You guys have a good rest of your day."

A couple weeks have passed & the results are in.

"Mila, open it. I can't do it." Vic says to her, passing Mila her phone.

"Are you sure you want me to read it?"

"Yes, I can't. Just read it & tell me."

"Okay. Now, don't yell at me if I say it's

Austin, because I know that's the result you don't want."

"I promise I won't."

"Good. Okay, I'm opening it, I'm reading it, and the father is....."

"Please be Ashton, please be Ashton." Victoria says to herself."

"Austin."

"Goddamnit, Butler. I fucking knew it. Of course it's his."

"I'm sorry, babe."

"It's fine, I guess."

"How are you going to tell them?"

"Girl, I have no idea. Do I tell Austin first? Or Ashton?"

"I don't know. I guess Ashton. You're seeing him tonight right?"

"Yeah. I guess I'll tell him first."

Later on...

"So, I got the results..." Vic says to Ashton.

"And?"

"I'm so sorry." Vic starts to cry. "It's Austin's. I wish I would have never had sex with him so the baby could be yours. I know we used protection, but you know that's not always effective & maybe it could have been you. I'm so sorry."

"Baby, baby. It's okay. I told you, things happen. And I'll be with you every step of the way. I love you so much and we're not going to let anything come between us."

"I love you too. So much"

Ashton gives Victoria a sweet kiss as she wipes away her tears.

Now all that's left is to break the news to Austin...

————————————————————————

[alextheavoidant]

I posted this as a reply to someone on YouTube under a video about the 8 Passengers situation. Thought I'd share it here because why not.

I feel like I should put a trigger warning here as this post discusses child abuse, but now that I think of it my whole blog probably needs a trigger warning...

Post:

I was also badly abused growing up and this is something I'm just now starting to come to terms with. My parents were divorced when I was five and my father claims he tried to get custody of my siblings and I, but the truth is he didn't want to be a single father and having three little kids to take care of would have gotten in the way of his drinking and partying lifestyle. I never knew my mothers side of the family because she's pretty much been estranged from them since before I was born. But I remember when my sister died from a drug overdose the whole side of my dads family were suddenly so sad about what we went through growing up and would say things like "We tried to give you some sense of normalcy. We always invited you to Christmas and the holidays." As if they were doing us some kind of favor for letting us come to family gatherings.

The worst part is I didn't have to wonder if they knew. I knew they knew because I remember being very vocal about what was happening to us our entire childhood. But every time I tried to tell someone it seemed like they would either turn away and pretend they didn't hear me or make some kind of joke like "Oh yeah, that's your mother. She's crazy. Ha ha ha." or a dismissive "Well, she's the only mother you're ever gonna have, so you gotta love her." or what I feel is one of the most damaging things you can put in an abused child's mind, "I know it may not seem like it, but she loves you in her own way." No one seemed to be worried back then.

The other worst part is instead of being understanding about the ways the abuse has effected us and maybe trying to help us get our lives together, these same people who turned a blind eye to it now have the audacity to judge us for not being "successful", their definition of success being having a great career, lots of money, nice house, nice car, nice marriage with three perfectly behaved, straight A students. We're supposed to be perfect like all of them pretend to be. Just supposed to magically not be affected by any of the abuse and neglect we suffered growing up so that they can pretend it never happened so they don't have to feel guilty about the fact that they knew we were living in a house with a raging alcoholic without food and clean clothes half the time and they did nothing about it. It wasn't *their* responsibility to protect us. Now that we're adults its *our* responsibility to fix ourselves and stop "playing innocent", blaming the family and making them look bad. The only reason we can't is obviously because we're just too inherently defective. Because of course we are. We're "just like our mother". We have her genes. And the kicker? I'm constantly told to "rise above my raising" while also being told I'm "screwing up" my niece because I can't afford to take her out to eat all the time and shit like that. Literal mind fuck.

And yet, the most bizarre part is, the more progress I make in my recovery, as I have been diagnosed with several mental health issues including a severe anxiety disorder (AvPD), the harder and harder they seem to want to come down on me. Like it's not enough that I've spent years in therapy trying to get my life straight, that I'm raising AND homeschooling my sisters child, whom she abandoned long before she passed away. It's not enough just that I survived that hell and I'm still here and I'm not an addict or in jail or on the street. I'm just not getting better fast enough, and that annoys them. They don't want to hear about my recovery because they don't want to acknowledge how fucked up I actually am, and how much work its taking to even try to achieve some sense of normalcy, let alone have a "successful" life and career, according to their standards. My very existence is a stain on the security blanket of lies they wrap themselves up in so they can sleep at night. And they really don't like that.

[startrekfangirl2233-fic-recs]

Em! This whole fic is so fun! I love the banter between Bradley and his girl and how easily she helped him beat the others. It makes me giggle to think that not even Jake's girl and her sorority sisters could beat the sex appeal of Bradley Bradshaw!

If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

I am swooning. God I wish I had someone dreaming of me for five months!

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you. But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation. 

Poor boy. He's so sweet, I love him!

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

Oh my god. Mav's going to murder them. With push-ups. Hundreds of push-ups. It doesn't surprise me at all that it's Payback making the bet. If he did it in the movie, he's 100% going to do it again!

The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters.  "Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?" Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet. "You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks. 

They stacked the fucking bet! How rude! Bradley had better have somebody pulling for him!

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

He's such a soft boy! A sweet, soft, completely whipped boy.

You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!" His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

Fuck yeah! Rooster's got a pretty bartender girlie on his side! Suck it Jake, Javy and Reuben!

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off." He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?" You nodded, the movement exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!" Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained. "Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning. 

Reuben's wife is a doll! I love how she orders him to keep his shirt on! 😉😉😉

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex." Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps. 

You can complain all you want, baby, but this is going to win you a bet!

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile. "Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

I'd be hella jealous, too! That's my Bradshaw. Get your own guy, girlie. This one's MINE.

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart." Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?" "Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile. 

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

WEAR THAT MAN OUT, GIRLIE! TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM! Report back as to the results though... I need to know how big he is.

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups." Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment.  "Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message. Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart?! I think I would combust if Bradley Bradshaw called me sweetheart in that raspy lovely voice of his. I adored this entire fic and the Kamikaze shots were just the icing on the cake. I'm all of a sudden very thirsty. Where does a girl have to go to procure Kamikaze shots made by a chicken?

Stateside | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley made a mistake last summer when he left for his deployment without ever asking you out, and then he thought about you a lot when he was gone. He was stateside again for less than a day when the other guys coerced him to help with a fundraiser at the Hard Deck. A friendly wager with the squad might not be the only thing he wins by the end of the night.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, drinking, swears

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger Written for Pick Your Poison

Bradley had barely been stateside for twenty four hours when he woke up in his bed at noon to an array of texts arriving all at once. Five months on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with nothing much going for him left him surprisingly exhausted. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his friends, he just needed a full day to himself to readjust. 

He groaned and rolled over after glancing at his phone and seeing the words Hard Deck in a message from Jake. He closed his eyes again after tossing his phone aside, but about ten seconds later, he cracked them open again. If there was one thing he had consistently thought about over the course of those five months, it was you. Your bright smile, your perfect laugh, your navy blue tee shirts that said The Hard Deck across the front.

When he reached for his phone and checked the message from Jake, he sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Maybe this could be an excuse to see you again sooner rather than later.

Hangman: Hey, we need you to come to the Hard Deck tonight. It's the annual charity event, and Bob can't make it. We're short a bartender. And don't try to bitch out of this, Phoenix told me you're home.

Bradley covered his face with his hand and thought long and hard about this. The real bartenders would be there to help which meant there was a chance you'd be one of them. If he volunteered for this, then maybe he'd find himself in close quarters with you for a few hours instead of the other Naval officers he'd been stuck with for months on end. Just the idea of accidentally bumping into you while pouring a beer had him texting Jake back.

Yeah, I'll be there.

Even though he was still pretty tired later in the afternoon, Bradley took a shower and then spent some extra time on his hair before dressing in his lucky shirt. That five month deployment was the reason he didn't ask you out during the summer, and now he was nervous to see you again. He had good intel from Penny that you'd been single the last time he saw you in August, but what if you had a boyfriend now? Or worse, what if you didn't even acknowledge him when you saw him?

He groaned as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Hours, possibly even days... that's how much time he'd had you on his mind while he was away. And for what? A crush on a girl who was probably too young for him? A cute bartender at the Navy hangout who definitely got asked out nightly? Shit. He was a lost cause. 

And now he was going to be late if he didn't leave right away. He grabbed his keys, and headed out to his Bronco which he had missed dearly. So if nothing else, he'd get to cruise around later after the event. But on the ride to the bar, all he could imagine was how you'd look in the passenger seat, smiling at him at every stoplight and singing along to the radio. 

"Fuck," he grunted as he parked next to Jake's truck before heading inside. He let his heart fill with hope as he strolled in to find Penny, Jake, Javy and Reuben behind the bar with two bartenders. But neither of them were you.

"Rooster!" Reuben cheered, and soon he was being clapped on the back and high fived by the guys he hadn't seen in months. It was nice, but he couldn't help but think that his smile would have been more genuine if you were here.

Jake smirked. "So glad you left your perch and joined us."

Bradley laughed as he gave Penny a hug. "Come on, man, I literally just got home."

Penny smiled up at him. "Thanks for filling in. It'll be great." Bradley really wanted to ask her about you, but then Penny patted him on the cheek before turning to reach under the bar top. "This will be a breeze for you guys," she said, handing matching shirts to the four of them. "Just a basic bar menu tonight. No super fancy cocktails. Just beer, wine, some pre-made sangria, and a few different kinds of shots."

Bradley started to unbutton his lucky shirt before pulling the new one on in its place. He smoothed his hand along the front of the blue shirt that said THE HARD DECK FIGHTS CANCER, and he noticed the two bartenders glancing at him. They were both cute but decidedly not what he had been hoping for tonight. 

"Hey," he asked them with a nod. They smiled in response, so he decided to just go ahead and ask them about you.

"She quit a few weeks ago," the first one told him. "After she graduated from law school."

"She moved, too," said the second one. "Left San Diego."

Shit. He was too late after all, nodding in response to them as he pressed his lips together in a firm line. He'd never been any good at this kind of thing, which was why he always fell into casual relationships. What should he have done? Asked you out, gone on a handful of dates and then tried to persuade you to wait five months for him? Just for him to get deployed over and over again? That wouldn't have been fair to you.

But he didn't feel like it was fair to him either, because right now he was having a hard time even remembering exactly how pretty you were and the precise tone of your laughter. Probably for the best. At least he only needed to do this event for a few hours before he could leave and go for a long drive. He swallowed down his disappointment and turned toward the guys who were in the middle of conversation. 

"How about a side wager?" Javy asked, tossing a bottle of vodka up into the air and catching it over and over again. "You know, for the charity?"

"What did you have in mind?" Bradley asked as Penny went to peek outside. "Because I doubt Penny will let us strip for charity again after last year. The two of you scuffed up the bar top," Bradley added, gesturing at Jake as well.

They both started laughing like idiots before Jake said, "Nah, let's give Penny a break this year and just tally up our tips at the end of the night. Whoever donates the least amount of tip money to the charity is the loser."

"Oh, that's a great idea," Javy said as he ate the orange slices and cherries that were meant to garnish the drinks. "What's the punishment for losing?"

Reuben smirked and said, "Loser has to report to the tarmac on Monday in his underwear. Instant push ups from Mav."

"Deal," Jake said.

"Absolutely," Javy agreed.

Three pairs of eyes settled on Bradley, and he slowly said, "Okay." If he strolled out of the locker room in just his underwear and boots on his first day back from a long deployment when he was supposed to sit down with the admirals and Maverick and have a debrief, he'd probably earn a greater punishment than just a few push ups. But it was for the charity, so he'd do it.

But he soon learned he'd made a mistake after Penny called out, "Let's get started," and propped the doors open. The first person through the door was Reuben's wife, followed by Javy's fiancee and Jake's girlfriend. And all of her sorority sisters. 

"Shit," Bradley grunted. "Did you make me come here just so I would lose?"

Javy was handing out pint glasses that they could use as tip cups as he smirked, and Bradley was wondering if there was any way he could actually stuff his discreetly with cash from his own wallet.

"You'll be just fine," Jake drawled as the jukebox came blaring to life. But even the music was mocking him as Slow Ride started to play, and Bradley had people in front of him expecting him to make them drinks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jake's girlfriend open her purse and start stuffing Jake's tip cup full. "I feel like that's considered cheating," Bradley told her, and she rolled her eyes and smirked before tucking five dollars into his cup as well.

"Don't tip Bradshaw, Sweets," Jake complained. "We made him come here as a buffer!"

"I knew it was a setup!" Bradley groaned as he listened to someone ask him for some wine and some beer. That was easy enough. He knew how to do that. Or at least he thought he did, but then one of the bartenders who had volunteered for the night told him he poured too much wine into the glass.

Then a woman asked him for a green tea shot, and he stared at her blankly. He leaned closer to Javy and asked, "What the hell is in a green tea shot?" 

"I don't know," he replied as he poured two pints at the same time. "But you better figure it out, because your tip cup is still practically empty."

"Shit." He was scrambling to flag down the young bartenders again when he froze. He only caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye, but he knew it was you simply by the way you moved and the color of your hair. And then you sat down in the only empty stool left at the bar and smiled at him, your voice drawing his eyes up to your perfect face. 

"Rooster. You're back."

The little thoughts and fantasies he'd indulged in while deployed had nothing on the real thing, and he knew he was blushing as you smiled and waited for him to respond. But it had been months since he'd been this close to you, and now he was really beating himself up for not trying to make you his sooner. Because if you were his, he could do all the things he wanted to do right now. Like kiss you.

"Rooster," you repeated with hesitation in your eyes, your voice softer, nearly drowned out by the jukebox. 

"They said you quit," he blurted out as he leaned on the bartop, curious as to why you were here tonight. "And that you moved."

Your eyes went a little wider as you nodded, your smile still soft. "I did. You asked about me?"

"Can you make me a green tea shot or not?"

Bradley begrudgingly switched his focus to the woman next to you and sighed. He was about to tell her he didn't even know what that was, or that maybe she should fuck off so he could talk to you, but then you reached out and ran your fingers along the back of his hand. 

Your touch was brief but intentional, and all of the irritation seemed to ease out of his body as his gaze snapped back to yours. "Yeah," you told the other woman as your finger grazed his knuckle one more time. "He can make you a green tea shot."

"I don't even know what's in it," he told you, with a helpless smile, trying to fight the urge to reach for your hand. 

You kind of shrugged as you said, "I do. I'll talk you through it."

Bradley's smile grew which left you giggling as he said, "I'm kind of helpless back here. Nothing like you."

"Well, you can learn from the best," you told him, reaching out to squeeze his wrist before pointing to the many liquor bottles behind him. "Irish whiskey and peach schnapps," you told him, leaning on the bar now, so close that he just couldn't bring himself to turn away from you. 

"Okay," he said, memorizing the exact color of your eyes. "Thanks for doing this."

You bit your lip and smiled up at him, and when Bradley moved just slightly closer, he thought he heard you whimper. Your eyes were full of emotion that reflected his own as you said, "Focus, Rooster. Irish whiskey and peach schnapps."

He nodded once and then finally moved away from you as he scanned the bottles and grabbed the two you told him. "Good," you said, pointing to the mini fridge and saying, "now get the sweet and sour mix. It's in a pink jug. Yeah, you got it. Now you need a half ounce of each."

Bradley listened to you explain how to use the shaker while he gave you another helpless look. "I'm just a simple beer or bourbon drinker," he said as he strained the drink that his customer had been waiting several minutes for into a shot glass.

You laughed and said, "I know you are, and it's kind of endearing that you don't know what you're doing. Now top it off with a splash of Sprite." 

Bradley grabbed the soda gun, pressed the little green button and then looked up at you again. "This is endearing?" he asked, finally sliding the shot to the annoyed woman who unenthusiastically put a dollar in his tip cup and turned away.

"Very," you promised him. "And now I want you to make me a kamikaze shot."

He gave you a bland look, but his heart was pounding. "Are you joking right now?"

Bradley was hyper focused on your lips as you said, "Not at all. You can handle it. It's vodka, triple sec and lime juice. I prefer Finlandia. Impress me, and I'll leave you a nice big tip for the charity."

Then he groaned. He had forgotten about the wager and the other patrons looking for drinks and just all of it. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Thanks, but I'll probably still end up in my underwear at work on Monday morning." 

When he pushed away from the bar again, your eyes dipped down to his jeans before snapping back up. "Underwear?"

"Yeah," he grunted as he reached for the type of vodka you liked best. You told him how much to use, and he dumped it in a shaker. "The guys coerced me into volunteering tonight. I literally just got home from deployment, but here I am... their scapegoat," he said, arms held out at his sides. "They threw out a side bet based on tip money, and next thing I know, all of their wives and girlfriends show up with a bunch of cash."

While he shook your kamikaze shot, he watched you turn first to your right and then to your left, eyeing up the overflowing tip cups in front of Reuben, Javy and Jake. Your lips parted, and you gaped at Bradley, but your eyes looked a little devious now. "You know, all of this makes a lot of sense since the guys made me come tonight."

Bradley carefully poured out your shot and asked, "What do you mean they made you come?" He realized his voice sounded annoyed, but how did they all have your phone number anyway? He'd been standing here thinking about asking you for it, but they were apparently already texting you. 

You accepted the shot and took a small sip to taste it. "They kept messaging me earlier today, saying I absolutely needed to be here tonight. They said it was important I made it to the charity event." Then you tipped your head back, and Bradley was treated to the soft looking expanse of your neck as you swallowed down the rest of the shot he made. When you were done, you set the glass down and licked your lips as you dug some money out of your pocket. "That was delicious."

While you loaded his cup with all the cash in your pocket, Bradley tried to ask you where you lived now. If the guys were bugging you earlier today, you couldn't be that far. But before he could get a word out, you pushed yourself up so you were kneeling on the bar right in front of him, and he looked up at you as you grinned down at him. 

"Don't worry, Rooster," you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. "I got you." Then Bradley was reaching for your hips. He didn't fucking care if the place was packed, he was ready to haul you off to the back hallway and ask you if he could kiss your pretty lips. You beamed at him as his hands met your body, but you just cupped your fingers around your mouth and shouted over the music, "Come get your drinks from Rooster! He knows how to make everything! But kamikazes are his specialty! And he's hot!"

His eyes went wide as you slipped out of his grasp and back onto your stool while an influx of mostly women queued up in front of him. "What did you do?" he asked, trying to mentally process an order for a cosmopolitan while stumbling over you calling him hot.

"I'm helping you not embarrass yourself at work. Keep the vodka out. Grab the Cointreau and a martini glass. We're about to show the guys what's up."

Bradley struggled through drink after drink as quickly as he could, but you never gave up on him. Occasionally you'd slide things out of his way or point out where he could find something he needed, and at some point you grabbed a second pint glass for his overflowing tip money. And all the while, he stole as many glances at you as he could while he worked. 

When Penny eventually walked behind him, patted him on the shoulder and said there was less than an hour left of the event, she also shared a smile with you. But there was no hope. The other guys were already working on their third tip cups each. "I don't think I can make up the deficit," he groaned, pulling up the hem of his shirt and wiping his brow with it. 

"Oh, that's a great idea," you mused, leaning across the bar and pulling his shirt up higher. "Take it off."

He stared at you as you tugged on the fabric. "Take it off?"

You nodded, the moevent exaggerated as you said, "Absolutely. Take your shirt off." As he looked around awkwardly before pulling his shirt over his head, you cupped your hands around your mouth once again and said, "He has six pack abs!"

Now the guys were glaring at him. "So do I!" Reuben complained.

"Don't you dare take your shirt off!" his wife told him, pointing at him in warning. 

Bradley knew his cheeks were flushed, and all he really wanted to do was talk to you and hopefully kiss you. And he really wanted to do all of that with his shirt on, because he felt a bit like a stripper now as you reached for a third tip cup. The cash was filling it up quickly, and he smirked as he thought about Reuben, Jake or Javy in their underwear instead of him. And it was all for a charity after all. 

"Make him use the shaker!" you urged a woman who looked like she was in her seventies and holding a crisp fifty dollar bill. "Make him flex."

Bradley groaned your name which sent you into a fit of laughter, your second empty shot glass still in front of you. "This isn't right," he complained half heartedly as he shook the older woman's Mai Tai with flexed abs and biceps. 

"It is so right," you told him, and he appreciated that you were scoping out the other guys' tip cups instead of looking at him right now. "Keep going. It's going to be so close." And then that fifty ended up in Bradley's cup when he handed over the cocktail, and you said, "Or maybe not!"

"Last call for the fundraiser!" Penny shouted over the crowd, and Bradley almost sighed in relief when the last few people ordered beers and a glass of wine. And then it was all over, and he had a huge amount of cash in front of him along with you. But he didn't care about the tips as much as he did getting to finally talk to you. The fundraiser was technically over, and you were looking at him the same way he was looking at you.

When he took a breath to suggest you and he go for a walk, he felt a hand on his bare back. It was one of the young bartenders who was helping out, and she said, "I can count up your tips for you," with a smile.

"Nope," you said, reaching for his cups yourself and shooting her a glare. "I'll do his. You go help Coyote." You didn't move again until her hand slipped off of his back and she walked away, and then you looked at Bradley and asked, "What are you going to do for me if you win?"

He watched as you quickly sorted the bills into efficient piles as he pulled his shirt back on and leaned against the bar. It had quieted down significantly, and now Penny was taking a few drink orders while everyone else seemed to move to the tables. He felt like he had a moment of privacy with you as he said, "I guess that depends. Apparently you moved away, Sweetheart."

"I did," you confirmed with a smirk as you counted up his twenties. 

"But you came back tonight."

You rolled your eyes, still smiling as you moved to the pile of tens. "I'm not too far away. I took a full time job and moved to Del Mar. The guys told me I needed to be here tonight for a special surprise. They said something I had been missing was returning. So I came down."

Bradley's fingers flexed on the edge of the bartop. "They did?"

You looked a little vulnerable as you stacked the bills in one pile and said, "Eight hundred and seventy one dollars." 

He nodded once and pushed the money aside without really looking at it. "You'd been missing something, Sweetheart?" he pressed gently, heart pounding in his chest. 

You bit your lip as your eyes drifted closed when he rubbed his thumb across your cheek. "I guess I must have asked the guys one time too many if they knew when you'd be back from your deployment."

"Oh," he rasped as you looked at him again. "You missed me?"

"Yes," you whispered. "I was going to ask you out, but then you were just gone. And they told me you were deployed, and I thought I really missed my chance. And I didn't even know if you were single or not, so I-"

Bradley had heard enough, so he kissed you. Just a soft press of his lips to yours, but you practically crawled onto the bar to get closer to him. And it was better than he spent the last five months imagining it might be. He could taste the vodka and lime on your tongue as it met his. Your fingers gently combed through his hair again, and he moaned, "I missed you too, Sweetheart."

Your laughter was soft and sweet as your nose brushed against his, and then he jerked back a few inches as Reuben shouted. "Yo, Rooster! There's time for that later, man! How much tip money did you make?"

"Eight hundred and seventy one," you replied as your fingers trailed down his scarred cheek to rub his mustache before you pecked him on the lips. The three guys groaned in unison, and Bradley watched your face light up in a beautiful smile. 

"This is not why we told you that you had to come tonight!" Jake whined, pointing at you and pouting. "You were supposed to distract him, not help him win! He was just supposed to turn into a bumbling mess and admit he has feelings for you!"

You turned away from Jake, and you asked Bradley, "So, do you have feelings for me?"

He huffed out a laugh before he hopped up to sit on the bar, swung his long legs over to the other side and hopped down again. You jumped from your stool and into his arms when he said, "I thought about you the whole time I was away, Sweetheart. I wanted to ask you out in the summer, but I didn't think it was right to hope you'd wait almost half a year for me to be stateside. For us to be together again."

"Bradley," you moaned. His hands found your hips just like earlier, and this time he pulled you snug against him while your fingers teased through his hair. "If a guy is worth waiting for, then I'd wait forever."

He kissed you again, tasting and nipping the lips that he'd dreamed about. Inhaling all of your sweetness that his mind didn't do justice to when he'd been away. Feeling your smile against his lips for the first time.

"Let me ask you again," you said, pausing between kisses. "Since I clearly helped you win the bet, what are you going to do for me?"

"Anything you want," he said immediately as you started to push him toward the door with a grin. 

"How about we go for a long drive? And we can talk about how the next time you're deployed, your girlfriend will be waiting patiently for you to return?"

Bradley scooped you up, sending you into a fit of laughter as he carried you directly to his Bronco.

------------------------

Bradley was exhausted on Monday to the point where the travel mug of coffee you sent him with did nothing to keep him from yawning out on the tarmac at 8:00. But every yawn ended with him smiling as he thought about how perfect the weekend had been. In the very early hours of Sunday morning, you'd agreed to be his girlfriend. And now he was waiting for the cherry on top of it all.

He didn't have to wait long as he stood between Reuben and Javy, the three of them looking nearly identical in their matching flight suits and boots, standing at attention in front of Maverick. Then Jake came strolling out, and Bradley instantly started laughing. 

Maverick turned, took one look at Hangman in his boxer shorts and combat boots and said, "I don't even want to know what's going on here, I just want five hundred push ups."

Jake's eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his face as everyone else tried their best to hold in their laughter. Bradley took his phone out as discreetly as he could and snapped a picture of Jake panicking on the tarmac before he dropped down onto the ground and started on his punishment. 

"Everyone else to your jets," Mav barked, and Bradley didn't stick around to hear him say it again. Instead he texted you the photo of Jake along with a short message.

Couldn't have pulled it off without your help, Sweetheart.

------------------------

The way I would die of this man just casually started calling me his Sweetheart. I love that he swept the guys to win the bet! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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