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sometimesanalice · 2 years

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Like I Can (Part 3)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 7.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 1 | Part 2

(All’s well that ends well❣️ Enjoy!)

You’d been on edge all day.

Having slept terribly the night before, you’d woken up early and giving up on the idea of going back to sleep had ended up at a sunrise yoga class, hoping that some movement would help you clear your mind. By the end of the hour you were even more frustrated than you were before you arrived, the poses feeling unnaturally forced instead of flowing seamlessly as they usually did.

So much for some goddamn inner peace.

Work was even worse. You had arrived to find that the espresso machine was broken. And whoever made a pot on the ancient drip machine, that was undoubtedly pulled out of a dingy storage closet somewhere, clearly hated everyone else since it tasted like tar. You could barely focus enough to clear out your inbox, when your work nemesis started breathing down your neck about a proposal that wasn’t due for another two weeks.

Time was dragging on. And every time you looked at the clock thinking it had been at least an hour since you’d last checked, were continually shocked to see that barely fifteen minutes had passed by. Thankfully it was Friday, so your boss didn’t care when you called it a day and left at lunch. It was better for everyone this way.

You had tried painting your nails, but didn’t have the patience to let them dry and smudged them trying to open a package of crackers. Ignoring the crumbs that got everywhere as you ate them while working the cotton pad over the remnants of your pretty pink polish. Your new favorite show didn’t hold your attention like it usually did and you found yourself mindlessly scrolling on your phone, missing most of the plot you’d had to restart it. Twice.

Not even the scenic drive along the coast to the restaurant you were supposed to meet your date at had done anything to alleviate your nerves.

You had been surprised at the choice of location when you had received the text message with the information about this particular date. As much as you enjoyed going to the Hard Deck, you were very much looking forward to drinking something other than a beer. Sure, Penny could make a mean spicy margarita, but sometimes an overpriced aesthetically pleasing cocktail just hit the spot better than anything else.

But most of all, you were thankful for a change of pace and the privacy this offered you. You had never been one for the spotlight, and dating on display had left you feeling drained.

You’re sitting in a surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker dining chair on the outdoor patio of the new trendy fusion restaurant you’ve been dying to come to. From your spot tucked away in the corner you can see the ocean waves rolling in and back out again. The golden rays already promising a stunning sunset later in the evening.

The foliage of the giant potted monsteras and birds of paradise made the terrace feel like a lush oasis, and contrasted stylishly against the large painted terracotta tiles on the ground. The pergola that covered it was dotted wisteria amongst the other climbing greenery, and numerous oversized hanging rattan sconces. The dainty lights woven throughout reflecting off the wine glasses on the table.

This was exactly what you needed. Too bad you couldn’t let yourself enjoy it, the twisted knots in the pit of your stomach had served a constant reminder of your nerves all day.

You had used this date as an excuse to finally buy the deep green floral dress you’d had your eye on for ages. The gentle drape of the neck was subtly sophisticated, while the high slit on the side added some serious sex appeal.

There was nothing wrong with a little retail therapy you had told yourself as you’d swiped your credit card. If you looked good, maybe it would help you to feel good.

In all honesty, it probably had a little too much sex appeal since you couldn’t stop fidgeting in your chair trying to get the silky dress cover up more of your thigh that was currently displayed rather provocatively. It felt like the more you tried to get it to lay right the more of your leg was exposed.

It probably didn’t help that you couldn’t stop the restless bouncing of your leg. You weren’t usually an antsy person, leg bouncing had always been more of Rooster’s anxious habit than yours.

Maybe you’ll feel less exposed once you draped the linen napkin across your lap. You’re tempted to do it now, but you don’t want to disturb the artfully laid out tablescape before your date has arrived.

It had been three weeks of back to back truly terrible dates. You could see the finish line now, but you couldn’t say that it wasn’t wearing on you. It had sounded like fun in theory, but now you weren’t so sure you would said yes again if you were offered a do-over.

You were tired.

Tired of going through the motions with men who could hardly be bothered to do the bare minimum. Tired of trying to sell the best version of yourself. Tired of putting on a show when all you wanted to find was an easy kind of love.

And this particular date had you more on edge and anxious than any of the other ones you’d gone on.

Even if you were pressed, you could not remember a single thing about the guy Payback had set you up with on your most recent blind date.

That evening you hadn’t even bothered trying to put together a cute outfit for the meeting. Instead, the only real effort you’d opted to put in was painting your lips a bright red as an attempt to psych yourself up for it. You didn’t usually wear such a bold color, but when you did it never failed to make you feel more brilliant.

And while you couldn’t remember anything about your date, what you did vividly remember was the fight you got into with Rooster that night.

You had been coming back from the restroom and on your way back to your date when you had bumped into him rounding the corner.

“Sorry, that was my fault,” he’d said as he reached out to steady you with hand going to your waist, dropping it once he realized it was you. “Oh, hey.”

Glancing over to your date who seemed absorbed in some game he was playing on his phone, you figured he wouldn’t miss you if you spent a few extra minutes away to catch up with Rooster.

He had been acting really distant lately, taking a couple days to respond to texts rather than a couple of hours like it usually took him. Natasha had told you about the rigorous training they were being put though, and you had assumed it probably had something to do with that. However, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off between you two.

Rooster was already pulling away from you and taking a step towards the bar when you reached out grabbing his wrist to keep him with you. Looking around for a quiet place to talk, you’d heard him sigh behind you, but still held on to him as you made your way to one of the high-top tables in the corner by the empty stage.

You’d stopped and let go as you turned towards him, only to find him already looking at you with an expression that landed somewhere between expectant and exasperated. The cuffs of his shirt straining around his biceps as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well?” he grunted out.

Was he mad at you? You couldn’t think of any recent arguments you’d had recently that would explain the harsh tone he was using with you.

“Is everything ok? I feel like you’ve been really off lately. You know I’m always here for you, right?” Your hand was already reaching out to touch him, but you resisted the urge not wanting to further agitate him.

“Nothing’s wrong. I’m surprised you even have time to talk to me with all these washouts you’ve been wasting your time on. You’re the one with the busy social calendar, not me.” He was looking over the top of your head avoiding your gaze now, the bitterness in his voice had stunned you.

“Seriously? What is the matter with you?”

He’d never been so intentionally callous with you before and it hurt.

“Listen, if there is an issue me dating the people your friends have been setting me up with, you need to let me know,” you’d said pointing a firm finger at him, your anger rising. “This was supposed to be a fun no pressure situation, but I don’t want to be in the middle of this if things are getting heated between you guys. It’s not worth it to me. But you don’t get to ignore me for days and then claim that I’m the one avoiding you.”

He made a noise of frustration as he dragged both hands through his curls. You could see the flex of his jaw as he’d clenched his teeth together.

“Look, I’m sorry,” he ducked down to that his eyes were level with your, and you could see the remorse in them. “You’re right, that was shitty of me to take it out on you. I’m just… tired.”

You’d simply nodded at him, feeling like you weren’t on the same page as him didn’t sit well with you. “Phoenix told me about your new training program, it seems intense,” your voice sounded small even to your own ears.

“Yeah, the training,” he’d sighed out pausing for a moment as he weighed his words, rubbing at his chest, “It’s taking a toll on me, but that’s my problem. I mean it, I’m sorry.”

“Are we good?” you searched his eyes, your friendship with him was so important to you.

“You and me? We’re good, kid. Always.” He’d reached out and squeezed your shoulder before heading back to where the group was gathered together pretending like they weren’t just watching your argument play out.

Needless to say, your head was somewhere elsewhere entirely as you made your way back to your date. You’d felt bad being so distracted, but your mind just kept playing the argument on repeat. It was like your brain was trying to pull apart every little word to decode something that you didn’t think was there.

After Payback’s friend had left, you rejoined everyone else around the pool table. You couldn’t tell if the mood was off or if it was just you reading into things, since they hadn’t been prodding you with questions like they usually did.

Natasha was in the middle of giving you a glowing review of the man she had been bragging about since she first offered to set you up, when Rooster came to sit with you both.

“He’s just your type. He’s an engineer, so he’s smart. He’s got that whole glasses wearing and floppy hair thing going for him. And he’s funny. Rumor has it that he talked back to his Rear Admiral one time and got away with it because the guy had found him amusing. I fully expect you to name one of your future children with him after me.”

Rooster had surprised the pair of you when he stood up so violently that he almost knocked over the beers on the table.

“What the fuck, Bradshaw?” Nat had exclaimed as you both worked to rescue the teetering bottles from becoming casualties from his sudden movement.

You had no idea what he was going to say as an explanation for why he’d jumped out of his seat the way he did, but what he ended up unexpectedly announcing instead of answering Nat’s question had sent you into a tailspin.

So now here you are in a restaurant you’d be dying to go to, fidgety and anxious in a probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative dress for a first date with the guy who Rooster was willing to break his long-standing rules for to set you up with.

To say you were feeling the pressure was an understatement. No one knew you like Rooster did. He’d seen you at your best and at your worst. He wouldn’t just pick any random guy he knew, he would be picking the one who he thought would be the best for you.

The thought should be comforting, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness.

You pick up your phone again and double check the time in the text that Rooster had sent you with all the details for your date with his friend.

It was either that do that again or moving the ever-so-slightly crooked gold salad fork back into place.

You’re about to open Instagram for the third time since you sat down, turning when you hear a throat clear purposely behind you.

“Hey, sweet girl.”

For Rooster, when you’d first agreed to participate in the bet with his friends those dates started off as annoying inconveniences. Just inconsequential disruptions that got in the way of his time with you.

You were his best friend and at his bar, yet he felt like he’d hardly seen you these past couple of weeks- or at least not as much as he would have liked.

Sure, he got some time with you here and there at the end of the night like when you had late night tacos on the beach. Or when he’d taught you his favorite pool trick, well more like attempted to teach you, he loved how stunningly bad you were at the game. But he felt like he was competing with these idiots his friends had picked out for your time and your attention.

He wasn’t used to sharing you. In the past, if you had a date that conflicted with something spontaneous he wanted to do or something that the group had planned together, more often than not he could get you to move it or cancel completely.

He’d never been above a little bribery to get his way, he knew what you liked.

You going on dates wasn’t a new concept to him, but seeing them paraded in front of him was a different story. And he was getting really tired of watching you from across the bar while feeling like you were out of reach.

The more of them you went on, and the more he heard Natasha crowing about having the perfect man for you the more agitated he felt. The worse that feeling in the pit of his stomach got.

The evening of date for Payback’s pick, they’d all seen you walk in through the doors of the Hard Deck wearing that shade of red lipstick. You’d wore it so well. His friends had immediately started speculating about what it meant. Phoenix had called them all idiots, and while he couldn’t claim to know anything about make-up and those things, he did know you didn’t just wear that color for no reason.

He had vague memories of his mom putting the color on when they’d go greet his dad, at least he like to think those were his memories. Or maybe they were just something he’d created in his head from all the time he had spent looking at old photos of his mom and dad together, her smile always outlined in the color. His favorite was the one where his dad’s cheeks were covered in bright red lipstick kisses as he smiled indulgently down at his mom while a young Bradley was propped on her hip clutching his prized F-14 Tomcat. He had that one framed on the end table next to his couch.

And seeing that color on you for a date with this random guy had rattled him.

He’d felt so terrible later that evening when he took those feelings out on you. Hating himself as he lashed out at you. Hating himself as he saw your face fall and the hurt in your eyes. Hating himself for being the person who made you feel bad.

And the crux of it all was that you weren’t wrong, he had been deliberately distant by being slow to reply and ignoring texts from you. He wasn’t proud of it, but he didn’t know what else to do. He’d hoped by creating some space that it would help him to try and get his head back on straight.

He’d let you assume that he was tired from the new training program they were being put through. What he didn’t tell you was that he was already outperforming everyone on the team, and that he hadn’t had to do any extra push-ups in a week and a half.

He was tired because he hadn’t been sleeping, and he couldn’t sleep because every time he tried to close his eyes all he could see was you on these dates. Replaying them in his mind’s eye wondering what the outcome would have been had they not gone so terribly wrong each time.

The what-ifs swarming around his brain day and night like agitated hornets.

While he had been quick to apologize for being a dick, the sharp pain that settled behind his sternum wouldn’t subside no matter how much he had tried to rub it away.

He didn’t know what was more unbearable, the idea of losing you to a chance encounter of circumstance. Some meet cute courtesy of the universe that he couldn’t see coming until it was too late, when it’s already too far out of his hands and out of his control. To see you grinning that smile so bright, the one so wide it made your dimples appear, as you introduced that guy to him.

Or sitting here night after night analyzing every little thing as you date the people some of his closest friends had picked out for you. Watching and hoping that these dates would just be funny stories you told on drunken nights out rather than the story told at your wedding about the night that everything changed when you met your person. Of having to be happy for you even as you pull away from him.

His ears were ringing and he’d felt his stomach drop.

He could see it now, a day when your life ran parallel to his rather than entwined as he was used to. Of you with a partner. With children. Of him as ‘Uncle’ Rooster, demoted to the rank of ‘longtime friend of the family’ rather than a core member of it.

The thought of it making him feel sick.

All evening he had been moving around like a ghost completely lost to the thoughts in his head, but now it felt like he’d been shocked by a live wire. He’d pretty much jumped out of the chair he had just settled in, almost knocking the beers in front of him off the table completely.

“I want in, I’ll do it,” he’d blurted out, interrupting the conversations that had continued on around him while he had been spiraling. “This whole thing has been a complete shit show. I can’t watch this anymore. I know a guy, I’ll set it up. I’m in.”

His hands were sweating as he hoped no one would call his bluff. He’d made it a point to actively avoid looking at you. You had such an uncanny way of reading him.

“I don’t know, Bradshaw. You’re a little late to the game, aren’t you? I’ve been saving the best for last, and I’m ready to collect my winnings.” He’d expected some shit from Hangman, but he never would have guessed it’d come from Phoenix.

Feeling his anger flare up, he reached into his back pocket and fished out a $100 bill from his worn leather wallet, double the original entry fee. He slapped it down on the table, leaving no room for any further discussion, “I’m the one setting her up for the next date.”

He’d caught a look between Hangman and Phoenix, but he couldn’t be bothered to read into it as he tried to keep his temper in check.

He wouldn’t lose you. Not to someone who didn’t deserve you, especially when he already knew the person who could make you happy.

“Alrighty,” Jake had drawled out, as he pocked the bill. “Looks like we have another player. I look forward to taking your money.”

He’d extended his hand out and they’d all shook on it, reaching Phoenix last her grip firm and her smile sharp. And that was that.

Now he was here at the new popular restaurant he’d heard you talking about a few weeks ago, his feet cemented to the tiles beneath him just gazing at you.

He could tell from where he was standing behind you that you were nervous by the way you were opening and closing apps without truly looking at anything. He knew it was a habit of yours when you were feeling anxious, something for your hands to do as you tried to distract yourself.

He had sweet talked the hostess over the phone into reserving the best spot on the outdoor terrace, and you looked so beautiful sitting there wearing his new favorite color. Your hair is held back by a delicate golden clip on one side leaving the line of your neck exposed, the sea breeze picking up a few wisps. It makes his teeth ache with want.

He knew you were gorgeous, he’d stared down enough men at the Hard Deck to know that others thought so too. However, he’d never let himself sit with those thoughts for too long, not trusting himself to keep his mind from wandering.

You were his best friend.

And best friends don’t think about how the other would look so perfect in their bed, that pretty green dress forgotten on the floor.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look under his arm.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you would look with his ring on your finger.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect you are for him.

Best friends don’t think about how perfect he is for you.

Him.

It was a good thing he didn’t want to just be your best friend anymore.

He’d already done too much thinking, done too much waiting. He wasn’t going to miss his moment.

Taking one more deep breath, he made his way to you.

“Rooster? What are you doing here?” He was the last person you’d expected to see when you turned your head to see who had been trying to get your attention, “Are you ok? What’s wrong?”

Did he get emergency orders? Did your date get in an accident?

Your anxiousness was quickly morphing into panic, you’re already half way out of your seat when he puts his hand on your shoulder, his thumb stroking the skin there reassuringly.

He is standing there looking completely at ease, as if he belonged there, “Nothing’s wrong, sweet girl.”

And there it was again, you hadn’t been sure if your ears were playing tricks on you the first time he’d said it. That simple term of endearment silencing the alarm bells that were going off in your head, the edges of the lush restaurant softening around everything except him.

“Your mom always called me that,” you say softly.

You cherished all the memories you had with Carole, the woman who had been such a significant figure in your life for so long. You knew your mom still sent Rooster a cake every year to celebrate her birthday from whatever bakery was closest to wherever he was stationed.

“I know, I remember,” his voice so warm and deep, “She loved you.”

He says it so simply, so sincerely. As if his presence here hasn’t just completely untethered you and sent you adrift in a sea of bewilderment.

The writhing snake that had made a home all day in the pit of your stomach finally disappeared, only to be replaced with the fluttering of wings that you were desperately trying to ignore.

You’d been so shocked when Rooster had exclaimed that he was going to set you up with someone, your mind had been whirling so much at the time you could barely focus on anything that had been said in the aftermath of his announcement. Maybe you had missed some caveat he’d come up with for his participation in the bet? That could make sense, considering how adamant he had always been in the past about never getting involved in your love life.

He was standing there looking so good in his best short-sleeved button up shirt, the one that was scattered with vibrant palm leaves that fit snugly against his body. And wearing the white slacks that usually had you looking anywhere else in the room to avoid acknowledging the way they clung to your best friend’s thighs and ass. If only he knew how weak they made you.

There just has to be a logical reason for why he’s here, but the soft smile on his face was rendering your brain uncooperative.

You were getting tired of feeling like you were missing something that should be so obvious, “My date is supposed to be here soon, are you going to hover in the back like you have been at the Hard Deck? Or are you just planning on pulling up a chair and third wheeling up close and personal?”

“Why would I need an extra chair,” he asks as he pulls it out and eases his large frame down onto the wicker seat, “When mine’s already free?”

You move to open your mouth when the waitress arrives, asking if you had your drink orders selected.

“I’ll do the Bourbon Sidecar. You feelin’ like a gin, sweet girl?” You just nodded at him mutely, still desperately trying to catch up. “And the Clover Club for her, please.”

It’s what you were planning on ordering to calm your first date jitters before had Rooster arrived and sent you into a complete tailspin. He hadn’t even looked at the thick textured cardstock of the drink menus that were strategically placed just to the right of the golden soup spoons on the artfully laid out table.

The butterflies were threatening to break free from the tightly locked cage you had attempted to shove them in.

The waitress took down the drinks, and you watched her as she crossed the patio pausing to tap away on the screen of their POS, trying to give yourself a few more moments to collect your thoughts.

“Bradley. I don’t understand, what’s going on?” He’s sitting there looking so secure, so steadfast, so sure.

His cheek ticks up, “I like it when you call me Bradley. Why did you stop calling me that when you moved out here?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Why did you stop calling me Bradley when you moved out here?” he asks again, leaning in. How does he expect you to answer a question, when your mind is going 1,190 miles an hour?

“I don’t know,” you start with a halfhearted shrug. “You’ve made a name for yourself in the Navy, you are ‘Rooster’ to everyone here.” You open your mouth to say more, before closing it quickly.

“There’s more going on in that head,” you feel his foot reach out tapping against yours under the table, before leaving it there a steady presence. “Tell me.”

You know you can tell him anything, but this feels different.

The intensity of his stare has you fighting the flush you feel spreading across your cheeks.

It wasn’t something that you’d ever given much thought to before, but you know if you answer truthfully now that he’s asked you it’s going to leave you feeling more exposed than you’ve ever been with him.

You sit up more fully in your chair deciding to be brave, “I mean, we haven’t really truly been in the same place since we were teens, and things are so different now. It was easier to start calling you ‘Rooster’ or ‘Bradshaw’ like everyone else, because it didn’t make me feel like I was piece from a different puzzle trying to force myself into a new picture. I wanted to fit into the life that you’ve built here, to feel like I still have a place with you as you are now.”

You’re actively fighting to keep your eyes on his. It would be so easy to look away or to laugh off your confession, but for whatever reason, you don’t want to take the easy out.

“I never knew you felt like that, but I wish I had,” the look in his eyes is softer than anything you’ve ever seen from him before. “I like being Bradley to you, I want to be Bradley to you. You aren’t just a piece to me, you’re the whole picture. You’ve always had a place here, exactly as you are you are now.”

It’s never been like this between the two of you. It feels like you both are saying too much and not enough all at the same time. As much as you find yourself wanting to sink into these intoxicating yet unfamiliar feelings, you know you’re still holding yourself back.

God, he is so handsome. You had been right, the sunset that was just starting was stunning, but the way golden beams were hitting the lightened strands of his curls was spectacular.

You’re almost too afraid to ask, but it’s unbearable not knowing, “Why are you here right now, Bradley?”

Of course, the waitress chooses that moment to return with the drinks.

She sets them down in front of you, the skewered raspberries sitting daintily on the side of your glass are suddenly the most fascinating thing in the room. You vaguely hear him saying you both need more time and that he’ll flag her down when you’re ready to order.

He waits for her to leave to attend to her other tables before turning his heady gaze on you once again.

“I thought I’ve been making my intentions pretty clear here, sweet girl.”

He takes a sip of his Sidecar before continuing, the slight bounce of his leg the only thing giving him away that he might not be as self-assured as you’d originally thought, “I’m here for our date.”

There’s no hope of containing the butterflies now. You’re a lost cause.

“Bradley.” You can only imagine the emotions he is reading on your face. It would absolutely break your heart if this was some kind of bad joke.

“He’ll never love you like I can.”

“What?” you ask sounding every bit as dazed as you feel.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says shaking his head slightly, huffing out a little laugh at himself, “I got ahead of myself.”

You watch as he resituates himself in the chair, wiping his hands on the front of his slacks before restarting.

“Watching you on those dates has been hell, I don’t want to be jealous of some guy you gave a second glance. I don’t want hold back, not when we can be so much more,” he reaches across the table, taking your hand between his two large ones, “I thought having you as a friend was enough for me, but how am I supposed to sleep at night knowing that I could be the one who makes you happy and then do nothing about it? That I’m the only one who can love you the way you deserve to be loved?”

You’ve always known he’s cared for you, that was unquestionable, but to be loved by Bradley Bradshaw? It was something you’d never let yourself imagine, let alone dared to hope to for. It had been kinder to spare yourself from the heartache that came with hope. But now? With him sitting right here in front of you saying you could have him like this?

Was this how he felt flying in his F-18 every day?

He gets up and rounds the table coming to your side, hooking an ankle around the tapered leg of your chair pulling you out a bit. You’re suddenly very thankful for the probably-too-expensive-and-probably-too-provocative for a first date dress you purchased when you see the way his rich brown eyes turn molten as he gets a glimpse of your exposed thigh.

He settles into a crouch before you, his warm hands seeking out both of yours, “You don’t need Phoenix or anyone else to set you up, because he’ll never love you like I can. Let me show you how good it can be. Let me be it for you, sweet girl.”

The man in front of you is everything you could have ever possibly wanted for yourself. And to be the one who could get to keep him forever? There’s no doubt in your mind, it’s worth everything.

You’re sure you will have to have a more serious conversation about what this means for the two of you, but that can wait for another time when he’s not in front of you with his eyes so earnest. So hopeful. To another time when he’s not wearing his heart on his sleeve as he patiently waits for any kind of response from you.

It would be so easy to lean in and kiss him right now.

So easy to learn what that mustache would feel like against your skin.

To learn how his lips and tongue would feel against your own.

To learn how his mouth would move with yours.

But what’s a couple more hours when you’ve had years to build up to it.

“Well then, Lieutenant. I guess you better show me how it’s done,” you bring your hand up to cup his face, your thumb gently stroking along his cheekbone. “But I’m warning you now, I fully intended to give you as good as I get.”

Being on the receiving end of a Rooster smile was something special, but it had nothing on the beaming grin that Bradley Bradshaw is giving you now.

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you,” he says as he lands a lingering kiss on your cheek before standing and pushing your chair back in for you. “You’ve always known how to keep me on my toes.”

He returns back to his surprisingly comfortable wooden wicker chair, stretching his leg to rest it against yours. When the waitress comes back you both end up picking your meals at random, having been too absorbed with each other to actually bother reading the menu.

You’d barely eaten all day because of the knots in your stomach, and now you were starving. Thankfully, Bradley at least had the commonsense to ask the waitress to pick her favorite dish as a third entrée “for the table”.

It feels the same in many ways, he knows what to say to make you laugh and what to bring up to get you fired up. And you know what questions to ask to keep him talking and how to push his buttons just right.

But it’s also different when he doesn’t bother to hide his knowing smirk every time he catches you looking at his lips. And it’s even better when you don’t bother trying to hide yours when you catch him doing the same.

Afterwards, he takes your hand in his as you slowly make your way to the parking lot, his fingers lacing between your own. He surprises you when he leans against the Bronco, murmuring something about not wanting to let your pretty dress get dirty. His long legs extended wide as an invitation for you to come stand between them, his strong hands stroking the silky material of your dress on your hips as you step closer.

You’ve been ignoring the pull low in your stomach all evening, the tension between you two the most luscious feeling you’ve ever experienced. The combination of his heat, his woodsy smell, the headiness of his gaze on you almost too overwhelming.

Almost.

Your hands settle on his broad chest, playing with the button of his shirt now a bit nervous. Your faces closer than you’ve ever allowed them to be before. If what you’re hearing is the sound of the waves or the roaring of the blood in your ears, you couldn’t say.

You know he is waiting for you to make the first move. You see the moment when he’s about to say something, knowing him the words would be wonderfully reassuring and perfectly Bradley.

Why would you want to talk when his mouth was already waiting like a question. Why would you want to talk when you could learn what it’s like kiss him instead?

So you do.

When your lips meet his for the first time it feels like the sweetest kind of devotion.

bradleybradleybradley

His mustache scratching satisfyingly at the skin of your upper lip. His mouth tasting like the Sidecars he sipped on throughout the night and something that was just fundamentally Bradley.

Your hand moves on its own to stroke the side of his neck, your fingers seeking out the line of the longest scar that adorns his skin there from that night all those years ago.

Your heart is beating wildly in your chest as he licks his lips before bringing his face down to yours again. Your other hand tightly clutching his shirt in anticipation.

He’s always been so in tune with you, so when he tilts your head just right before leaning into the kiss it feels like a homecoming.

thisthisthis

One of Bradley’s hands makes its way up your back, pressing you closer to him as the other bands more securely around your waist. And when his tongue skims your lower lip, you sigh into his waiting mouth thankful for his strong grasp on you.

Nothing your mind could have imagined would have ever come close to the perfection that is Bradley Bradshaw’s mouth moving against yours. Nothing has ever felt so good, so right.

When he pulls away, you’re both over fighting back the smiles that feel like have been permanently fixed on your faces all evening.

“I’m don’t want to call it a night yet,” he tells you, as he brushes the hair back from your face. His smile turning playful, “What do you say, kid? Wanna go get some milkshakes?”

“Depends,” you reply cheekily, “Can I drink it in the Bronco?”

Wrapping both arms around his neck you draw him back in towards you again.

“Anything you want, sweet girl,” he promises against your lips.

The next night at the Hard Deck, you entered the bar with Bradley’s arm draped your shoulders.

His team whooping loudly when you pull him in for a kiss as he handed you a Blue Moon. They’d declared the drinks were on Bradley that night as they’d swarmed you both in celebration. Maverick pulls you aside to give you a warm hug, whispering “I knew you’d get here” in your ear before releasing you.

Now that you had let yourselves cross that line from friends to more, the pair of you are entirely too aware of the other. Never content to be too far away from the other. Your eyes like magnets, each seeking out the other to find them already looking back.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he has his hands on your waist. Nothing neighborly in the way his hands rub your shoulders. Nothing platonic in the way he rests one hand on the back of your neck, his thumb making teasing circles.

And there’s nothing friendly about the way you run your hands through his curls when he’s at the piano. Nothing neighborly in the way you slide your hand into his back pocket. Nothing platonic in the way you rest your hand on his chest, your finger tracing the line of his collarbone.

It has always been so easy with him, even as you explore in this new area of your relationship.

You’d been orbiting around each other all night, when Jake yelled out to heckle you both about indecent exposure, threatening to call his cop friend if Bradley didn’t “get his ass over to the pool table in the next thirty seconds.”

He’d peppered your face with kisses before you’d shooed him away, laughing when you realized he had swiped your beer and had taken it with him.

“So you and Bradshaw,” Natasha states as she settles down next to you.

That makes you smile.

“Yeah, me and Bradley.”

How could you have possibly thought you’d want anyone else other than him? You were a goner from the moment you’d turned and saw him standing there at the restaurant. Your golden boy.

You turn towards her, putting a hand on her arm, “I’m sorry that you didn’t get a fair shot at the bet. I really do appreciate the effort you all went through. I mean, Bradley would have had it in the bag anyways. But still–”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” she waves a hand, cutting you off, “We had a team meeting and changed the rules of the bet anyways. I still won, so it’s all good.” Her smile was nothing less than mischievous.

“Wait, what?”

“We could all see from Rooster’s reaction during that disaster of a first date with all the dogs that he was completely hung up on you. We didn’t want to wait for him to figure it out, so we decided to adjust the terms a bit to help him out,” she laughs at your clearly baffled expression. “We reached out to the cringiest people we knew and set you up with them instead. And then took bets on how long it would take Rooster to get his head out of his ass and go get his girl.”

“Oh my god, seriously?” The revelation has you bursting out in laughter.

“Yep, well except for Bob. His date was a genuine accident, bless him. I’ll be honest, I didn’t even bother reaching out to anyone. I was betting on Rooster getting it together before I needed to step in,” she explains while wearing the most self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Of course Natasha Trace had bet on him. On you.

You couldn’t wait to tell Bradley how you had both been so absolutely played by his team.

You loved these people. You loved your life here in San Diego.

“I’d apologize for putting you through all that, but it looks like it worked out well in the end,” she says knowingly nodding her head towards him.

You’re fully watching him now as he bends over the pool table looking amused at something that Hangman says.

Bradley looks up catching your eye and shoots a wink in your direction, a grin taking over his whole face. You already know you’re wearing a matching one.

“I wouldn’t change a single thing.”

Thank you so much for all the love on this one! I’ve loved sharing this journey with you all! Happy Valentine’s Day Everyone!

If you want to know what happens next for these two you can check out my masterlist!

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge!

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) as always for being the ultimate hype girl!

Taglist:

@sehnsuchts-trunken @top-hhun-main @itscheybaby @prettylittlelauraa @startrekfangirl2233 @marantha @callsign-viper @teacupsandtopgun @itsizzythebell @shanimallina87 @angelbabyange @boltgirl426 @oneelleandaneye @mizzzpink @cornishkat @torres-espana @uzumegui @dont-talk-me-down @fandomunite2107 @alana4610 @20th-centu-fairy-girl @pariahsparadise @pono-pura-vida @donttouchmycarrots @nina-sj @eg-dr3amer3 @whaledots-blog @a-beaverhausen @misty-inferno @angellwingsss @hangmanscoming @mandolin22 @theweekndhistorybook @lilpeekabooze @high-bi-imgonnacry @ahintofkiwistrawberry @mrsdaamneron @ruewrote @spiderman-stilinski @jayniebop @melllinaa @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @mandolin22 @imaginecrushes @soleilgrec @keyrani @finelytaylored @phantomxoxo @viridianphtalo @chicomonks @artemissunn @hey-assbutt35 @mayempress @eddiemunsonreader @averyhotchner @caatheeriinee07 @rileyanntoinette @lublycho

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x you #top gun fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster x you #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #love is in the air tgm #like i can tgm

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my-shields-are-down · 2 years

Note

Octopus 🐙

REMEMBER: ONE WORD PROMPT = CHENFORD ONE SHOT

========== Tim was driving his girls to school and work one morning.

Normally they’d hop on Franklin and zip across town missing the most of traffic, but with the first Republican Presidential candidate debates happening tonight downtown, half the main thoroughfares were blocked forcing all the locals onto the same cross town streets: Beverly, Melrose, Wilshire and Olympic. Somehow they had ended up on Melrose inching along through the design district, miscellaneous fashion houses and restaurants peppered between tourist traps and hookah lounges.

Diana, who at age 11 -soon to be 12 - was poised to rule the world, notices the sign first.

What once had been a flagship Vans store, was now transformed into a two story sushi restaurant. The second floor had been converted into an outdoor garden deck with a massive steel pergola and covered in every color cherry blossom; guests could sit in booths or at the main sashimi counter plucking raw delicacies from the ever moving track around the bar. The street facing, first floor wall once covered by floor-to-ceiling windows, now looms over pedestrians strolling by - a solid black wall of dark mahogany, broken only by a 7’ x 7’ red door and a massive digital video screen.

“Mom!” Diana gasped. “They turned on the sign - LOOK AT THAT!!”

Lucy, who has been reading boring but important work emails, turned to glance past Tim and saw a giant red octopus on the screen (see image above), it’s tentacles appearing to press up against the screen and freeze - while a black message appeared, overlaying the giant mythical beast:

寿司ー刺し身ー Tako

“Yep - Tako is the name of the restaurant and Japanese for Octopus! Mom - we HAVE to go there! We never do anything cool, and going there? Sitting up on the roof, with celebrities and influencers? Oh man, that’d be so cool!” I bet Uncle Aaron could get us a reservation there.”

Lucy and Tim share a quick smile and rolling of the eyes at their daughter who was barreling along into her teenage years desperate to be “cool” especially since her parents, apparently, had been officially deemed “not cool.”

“Di - do you even like sushi? Your nose gets all scrunched up any time your mom offers you any of her take-out?” Tim asks his daughter, internally chuckling at the image in his mind.

Whereas their eldest son had Lucy’s coloring and his height and eyes, their daughter had his mom’s gorgeous dark blond hair with copper highlights, Lucy’s eyes, smile and curves and some of Tim’s height. Their youngest, TJ, was a mix of Lucy’s Black Irish Bio-dad and Tim’s blond-Ken-doll dad. TJ’s eye shape was the only physical resemblance to Lucy. Deep, crystal clear, mossy green eyes and thick black wavy hair. Both Kai and TJ loved anything from the sea. Diana, like her Dad, was more likely to sneer out of the corners of their eyes at the sushi.

“Who says I’m going to eat anything raw? Bleah. No, I’ll eat edamame and tempura shrimp and seaweed salad and go to be near all that fame and fortune. That’s the goal - to hob and knob with people.”

Lucy turns to Tim and suppresses a giggle - “Hob. And knob” she mouths to Tim. Their girl was gearing up to give them a wild ride through their teenage years. Diana films the octopus gliding across the big screen for herself and sends a copy to her little brother because he’d love it.

=====

When Lucy got home that night after a relatively uneventful shift, she found the main interior lights dimmed. Her “mom hearing” lets her know her kids are all home, safe and sound. But her husband is not where she expects to find him - in the kitchen, reading the paper, with entertainment news playing quietly in the background.

She puts the take out bags on the counter, along with her purse and keys. She then moves to the secret safe in the pantry and locks her badge and gun behind the peanut butter cups. She knows Tim is home, because she parked behind his truck on the driveway, but he hasn’t yet greeted her with a hug and kiss. Weird.

The dogs, however, sensing a new person who might give them treats came rushing at her from the far corners of the house where her kids were doing whatever after dinner, they all promptly sat down when Lucy told them to, and each received a cow’s ear to chew on, heading back out to hang with their person for the rest of the night.

Each Bradford (including Tim & Lucy) adopted a pup from the pound in memory of Kojo - king of canines. A picture of Lucy, Tim and Kojo sits prominently on the fireplace mantel with the rest of the family photos.

Lucy and Tim’s dogs were a hilarious brother and sister duo - Alaskan Klee Kais who had ridiculous personalities. Think mini huskies, Tim’s dog - Vivian- and Lucy’s dog - Elvis - were polar opposites. Vivian would usually be found on the back of the sofa in the game room with the boys, front legs crossed and thrilled to be part of the action. where Elvis followed Tim around all day long whining, moaning and complaining that he was being treated unfairly. Although lately, he’d discovered a certain part of the upstairs hallway with phenomenal acoustics and like his husky cousins, would yell and howl, sounding like a siren. Now that the kids were older, Tim spent most of his days arguing with Elvis. The kids had all opted for lab mixes of various sizes, colors and hair types.

But neither Elvis nor Tim came as treats were handed out. Huh. Lucy grabbed two treats for Elvis, obviously, and started her tour of the house ending up in their TV room - originally an artists studio off of the master bedroom, which Lucy and Tim converted into their own private space away from slobbering dogs and kids to watch movies not made by Disney and make out on the super comfy sofa. Lucy found both of them sprawled out on the floor - Elvis had his head on Tim’s thigh and barely lifted his head in greeting Lucy. She noticed Tim had their infrared blanket underneath his torso and he was conked out and snoring, dead asleep at 7pm.

“God, he is so handsome.” Lucy thought to herself. Even after 15 years of marriage, three kids, 5 dogs, two chinchillas, and a tarantula, Tim was in phenomenal shape, and Lucy thought he got more handsome as he aged. At 57, he continued to look relaxed, tan and extremely happy. He smiled all the time and loved being a stay-at home dad. He now sported a dark beard with gray edges, wire rimmed glasses for reading, which Lucy found insanely sexy, and deep laugh lines around his devastating smile.

She quickly ducked into their bedroom and changed into one of his LAPD shirts and Indian sari pj bottoms before she crept into the other room and snuggled up next to her husband and spread a blanket over them and the dog.

Tim woke up 30 minutes later to the smell of jasmine (Lucy!) and mad dog chomping in his ear (Elvis….). First thing he did was reach down and reset the infrared blanket for another 60 minutes and upped the temp to 110. His back was sore from the extra effort of the day. He then next turned to Elvis, grabbed the dog’s cow ear and threw it into the hallway knowing the dog would soon follow.

Finally he turned to his bride and pulled her into his side. “Hi” he murmured. 18 years after that first roll call when they first met, he still could not believe how beautiful she was. That this gorgeous and smart and thoughtful woman gave him three astounding kids, their own menagerie of creatures great and small, and that she chose him to love and adore. He thanked his lucky stars every chance he could because this life with Lucy was so much more amazing than anything he ever dreamed possible.

“Hi”, Lucy murmurs back leaning in for her welcome home kiss. She smiles at him and he smiles at her, and she asks him - “Why are you here on the floor? Rough day?”

Tim laughs out loud, and says, “The next time TJ needs a chaperone for a field trip with 20 of his fellow first graders, please do not let me be one of the volunteers. While there were moments of hilarity - like when TJ went off on Ms. Dodson for standing too close to me. I’ll let him tell you how he defended your honor.

Today was exhausting.

Each chaperone was responsible for four first graders - four 6 year-olds. At the aquarium in Long Beach.

There was a Shark exhibit which was cool, but the focus and the reason we were there was for the octopus exhibit. There are some freaky octopi out in the ocean. (Tim shudders), if I never have to hear a random factoid about them or see one ever again, it’ll be too soon.

At one point, TJ got scared and came and sat on my foot like he does sometimes, and then without warning, I suddenly was covered in 6 year-olds. I was able to stand up and do my “hulk thing” I do with the nephews, but I couldn’t go very far, they kept falling off and I pulled something in my back and that was within the first 30 minutes . We were there for three hours. Uncle! No more kids, no more octopuses, just no more. I wanna lie here with my sweetie and her weirdly quiet dog and forget the 8-legged-aliens.”

Lucy could not stop laughing at the image in her head of Tim covered with their littlest and his classmates. She is sure Tim loved every second of it - even Ms. Dodson making him blush. Tim still got flustered when other women flirted with him.

She snuggled closer to him and said, “Oof. Then I suppose you don’t want to come downstairs and share my grilled octopus tacos from the “cool” sushi restaurant we drove past this morning? No Tako tacos for you, huh? What about two fully loaded animal-style cheeseburgers with fries from In ‘N Out with a Neapolitan shake? Would that entice you to come have dinner with me downstairs?”

Tim leans in and kisses her and says, “You asking is enough to entice me. But yeah, the burgers sound awesome. You can give Diana the Tako take out bag and maybe up our “cool” quotient. We are gonna need all the help we can get.”

#chenford #future fan fiction #tim bradford #lucy chen #tim x lucy #one word prompts #octopus #ask andrea #the rookie #i love them #things that are awesome #all fluff all day long #i'm in chenford withdrawal #is the hiatus over yet

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paintedscales · 1 year

Text

FFXIV Write 2023 :: Day 26

Prompt :: Last Characters :: Chotan / Fleurette Varlineau, Esenaij / Hamignant Varlineau, Izi Raha, Lalleve Coertha Word Count :: 1,583

FFXIV Write 2023 Master List

As it so happened, Sharlayan was on the list of okay places to have taken Hamingnant when it concerned traveling alongside either of his sisters. When the opportunity had come up, Fleur had been the one available to make the trip out there while Cyrielle had been off helping with some defense efforts alongside the Ala Mhigans and the Ananta against the threat of Lakshmi. Though Fleur was loath to imagine that she would not be needed as well, it was when she had received a linkpearl communication from her twin that everything had been proceeding apace.

So now, Fleurette had found herself at the docks of Sharlayan, Hamignant excitedly at her heels after roughly a moon or so at sea since he could not teleport there himself. It was a far sight better than the boredom that he had so freely expressed at being cooped up on the ship, that was for certain. At least the fishers had given him ample opportunity to show him new creatures that he could quickly sketch into his journals while Fleur had watched.

“Fleur, Fleur! Look! That’s Thaliak!” Hamignant excitedly pointed out the statue of the Scholar as he walked alongside her. He had every opportunity to point out the statue on the ship, but he seemed more stunned and taken with the fact that he was finally seeing Sharlayan outside of their mother’s paintings.

“He’s so big up there like that…and he looks just the way mum always described him when she talks about when she met with the Twelve herself!” Hamignant’s elation at being in Sharlayan was boundless. Even as he and Fleur went through customs to confirm their reason for visitation at the Worldly Affairs.

As always, Fleur had given her name as ‘Ishgardian name: Fleurette, Steppe name: Chotan, surname: Varlineau.’ It was nearly mechanical the way she had listed off everything that was required of her. Her occupation had been that of an adventurer, and representative of both the Warrior of Light and Vrtra of Radz-at-Han. Typically, her reason for visitation had been to provide assistance with unruly creatures within Labyrinthos, though this time she stated that she was being hired as a helping hand to the Isle of Hamm.

When it came to Hamignant, though, he had been more than excited to divulge much and more about himself that seemed to make the poor customs officer sit and endure it with a bit of a grimace forming on their face; “Ishgardian name: Hamignant, Steppe name: Esenaij, surname: Varlineau. I don’t have an occupation, but I’d like to learn stuff here, maybe even be a student at some point! I’m thinking I really want to just learn about entomology, arachnology, and stuff!”

Fleurette had only offered a sympathetic smile to the customs officer before they were finally cleared to go into the rest of the city. Telling Hamignant to stay close, Fleur had led the way past the Peristyle before pausing. She then pointed over toward the wooden pergola that stood tall over a deck-like structure next to a smaller building with an open-air front.

“Hungry?” Fleurette asked. “We can take a much needed detour to the Last Stand before we go ahead and tour around the rest of the city.”

“Of course I am!” Hamignant exclaimed, bringing a hand to his stomach. “You didn’t tell me that the boat ride would just be stale bread and tough, dried meat!”

“I thought mother implied as much when she packed you what she thought would last you. I warned you not to eat it all too fast,” Fleurette said, chuckling. She had sacrificed some of her own food just to make sure that Hami had been taken care of during their travels.

Hamignant grumbled something about not knowing about how long the trip would have actually taken before looking back to where the Last Stand was situated. He reached up and tugged at Fluerette’s arm, following along after her as she then led the way. Seeing the local students in their uniforms and coats made everything feel so official and clean.

The two of them had gotten themselves seated close to the railing overlooking the ocean after putting in their order. Hamignant was happily prattling away at his idea of what all the possibilities could be in studying bug biology and habitats in Sharlayan could mean for him. Admittedly, while Fleur had been glad that Hamignant found passion in actually pursuing the study of bugs because he found them fascinating, she had begun to tune him out.

It had not been until the arrival of some familiar faces to Fleur, at the very least, that she had looked up after they had called to her. A miqo’te with snowy white hair had waved to Fleur in particular, her other hand intertwined with that of a viera who had dusty brown hair and dappled markings on her ears.

“You know them, Fleur?” Hamignant asked, glancing over in the two women’s direction. He had not been too sure whether or not to wave back, so deferred to Fleurette.

“That’d be Izi and Lallerev. You ever get to meet mum’s friends from when she was an adventurer?” Fleur asked before waving back to them with a small grin. Hamignant shook his head in response, following her example, his wave had been a little more uncertain. This seemed to have been more than enough permission for the two to have come over.

“How long are you in the city, Fleur?” Izi asked, letting go of Lallerev’s hand and skipping forward to their table. She then looked at Hamignant and gasped, “is this your little brother? Aw, look at him! I can’t believe we’re finally getting to meet you. Hami, right?”

“Hamignant…” he replied, almost shyly. “Only Cy and Fleur get to call me Hami.”

“Oh… I’m sorry. Well, it’s really nice to meet you, Hamignant,” Izi said, keeping a chipper smile on her face. “Well, I’m Izi Raha. Our mums used to travel together for a while. And this lovely bun over here is~”

“Lallerev Coerth,” the viera introduced herself rather plainly, a small, more reserved smile on her face. “Most of my friends just call me ‘Lolly’ or ‘Rev’ though.”

“It’s nice to meet you both…” Hamignant said, glancing in Fleur’s direction to let her take the lead on talking. He had not been used to too many people just walking up to him and making themselves friendly. He had been more okay when he got to walk up to others and speak more freely, though having someone that came off with about as powerful a personality as Cyrielle had been different.

“To answer your question, I don’t think I’ll be in the city long…” Fleur said, going back to the initial question Izi asked. “I have to help with Professor Dalnesi’s foray into the Isle of Hamm -- just to keep him protected from the other creatures that might be more inclined toward aggressive behaviors and attacking any of the professors or other visitors that are coming by.”

“Wait…where will I be, then?” Hamignant asked, realizing what that meant.

“Ameliance said she would be more than happy to have you come by the Leveilleur estate while I’m away. I thought I told you this while we were on our way here.”

“... I forgot.” Hamignant fidgeted, and then looked up when he saw Izi and Lallerev take up seats next to one another at their table.

“Don’t you worry about anything,” Fleur said, trying to be reassuring. “The estate is large and has a whole bunch of study material you could ask if you can look at. Alphi and Ali had to start somewhere, after all!”

Izi gasped, her feet tapping excitedly against the wood panels below her feet in rapid succession. “Are you going to be a student here, Hamignant!?”

“... Maybe?” Hamignant trepidatiously answered the question.

An enthusiastic squeal had been made before Izi uncontrollably reached over for Lallerev’s shoulder and shook her. “You can hang out with me! I can show you all around Sharlayan! The Noumenon -- one of the largest libraries ever! Oh! And I can introduce you to so many professors at the Studium, including my mother! I don’t know if she teaches what you’re interested in, but she’s really well versed and traveled, which leads to her coveted classes for histories of civilizations studies!”

Hamignant had almost replied that he looked forward to it, though was silenced when a server had come by with their order. Suddenly, the excitement for having a tour through Sharlayan turned into excitement for having proper food. After all, the two large and fluffy pancakes that sat in front of him towered with powdered sugar sprinkled on top with a pap of butter melting on it. He felt his mouth water, wanting after the last couple weeks living off of nuts, crackers, dried meat, aaruul, and water.

“I hope your eyes aren’t as big as your stomach, Hami… You are going to eat all of that, right?” Fleur asked, concerned as the bowl of skyr topped with skyon compote was placed in front of her. She offered a small word of thanks to the server before she picked up her spoon and started on her meal.

“I’m gonna eat every last bite!” Hami said, taking his fork and happily cutting into the thick pancake.

“I’ll hold you to that, because I don’t want to be the one eating every last bite when you’ve only eaten a quarter.”

#ffxivwrite2023 #ffxiv #ffxiv writing #my writing #ffxiv oc #oc: chotan / fleurette varlineau #oc: esenaij / hamignant varlineau #oc: izi raha #oc: lalleve coertha #the only struggle was struggling to find time to type for this because my partner and i are fighting tooth and nail for last minute tomes

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