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gallusrostromegalus · 10 months

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I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

(If you laughed, please consider supporting my Ko-fi or preordering my book of Strange Stories on Patreon)

#Family Lore #Long Post #Local Man Experiences Local Weather

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ur-mag · 5 months

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Eric Clapton guitar sells for huge seven-figure sum at rock memorabilia auction | In Trend Today

Eric Clapton guitar sells for huge seven-figure sum at rock memorabilia auction Read Full Text or Full Article on MAG NEWS

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#Celebrities #Eric Clapton guitar sells for huge seven-figure sum at rock memorabilia auction #Money #Motors #Politics #ShowBiz #Sport #Tech #UK #US #World

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ozzgin · 4 months

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Yandere! Monster x Reader Headcanons

You find yourself kidnapped into a half-breed family of monsters and humans, for the purpose of an arranged marriage. Luckily for you, the groom is their only pure human, terribly handsome and charming. You'd perhaps appreciate him more if your eyes weren't glued to his monstrous older sibling...

Content: female reader, monster smut, reader is a shameless monster hoe

[Part 2]

You always imagined such kidnappings to be of theatrical intensity, being scooped up against your will as you scream and flail your arms, longing for a savior. The affair itself felt more like a formal summoning. Mysterious men appeared before you and merely announced that your presence is required, unfortunately without the choice of refusal. Might as well. You packed necessities under their polite supervision and now you're sitting at the table, facing multiple strangers who are casually enjoying their lunch. One of them, the head of the family apparently, explains that half-breeds are in a rather sensitive place when one considers human and monster politics. Thus, every now and then, they will do whatever it takes to strengthen their bonds and show good intent towards both species. This time it's an arranged marriage with a fellow human.

Why you, in particular? No need to concern yourself with intricate details. What matters now is that you are to be married soon and your groom is right here, enthusiastically waving in a welcoming greeting. You scan his features and can't help but agree with the family: he is, by all definitions, a conventionally handsome man. His face is carefully chiseled in most elegant, yet masculine features. His voice is confident but warm, and you can tell by the flock of servants hovering around that he's rather popular. After the luxurious meal he guides you around the imposing home, showing you to your room and briefing you on future responsibilities. Caring, attentive, and several other checks that you can easily mark in his favor.

Yet one vital aspect has been omitted. The prince's mesmerizing beauty was rather swiftly discarded once you realized the presence of his older sibling, a pure monster blood towering above everyone else and idly eating his food, uninterested. You managed to hide your blush in time, but you couldn't help throwing curious glances. Might've been easier for everyone involved if they handed out 'monster lover' badges. Alas, you weren't prepared to ever be faced with the choice.

The next day you're awoken by the murmur of diligent work, as both servants and family pace back and forth about their plans. You sneak your way out - since nothing is yet expected of you - and wander until you find your intended target: the beastly sibling is polishing a bizarre weapon you don't recognize in what seems to be a storage room littered with battle memorabilia. He notices your presence and acknowledges you with a bored nod. You ask whether you may observe his current activity and he looks up at you, raising an eyebrow suspiciously before agreeing. Why would you care? Certainly there's more entertaining things for you to do as a soon-to-be bride.

As you listen to his little stories from the battleground (hardy monsters like him are better off fighting, not socializing), you have to pat your cheeks in desperate attempts to cool down your burning blush. "H-how comes you don't have a partner?" You mutter, almost feverish. "Not interested. Plus, who would dare to marry me?" he jokes, focused on the sharp item in his clawed hands. There it is. Hesitation and diplomacy out the window, you rearrange yourself, smoothening your clothing, and whisper: "Well, if I had to choose, I would've preferred you as my husband..."

Once again he stares at you bewildered. Have you come here to mock him or something? A frail, pretty human like you, about to tie the knot with his stunning younger brother, showing up here and behind everyone's backs to openly flirt with him. Ridiculous beyond comprehension. His skin is thick enough to not mind such twisted humor, so if anything he's impressed by your audacity. Alright, if you've come for jokes, he'll comply. He places his weapon down and fully turns to you. A little scare might teach you to be more respectful with your in-laws next time.

With a speedy movement that's barely registered by your eyes, he pushes you on the floor and pins you by the wrists, lowering himself uncomfortably close to your face. "If you tease me like this, I might not be able to hold back." He says as he forces himself to smile extra hard, revealing the multiple rows of fangs. "In fact, I can't guarantee you'd make it out of here alive." Hopefully he isn't going too far with his tactics. He senses your frantic breathing and is about to apologize for continuing your prank, but you blurt out in a daze: "Yes, please! I've been thinking about it ever since I saw you." You're panting for dear life as your face is turning a deep shade of red.

Uh oh. Now this is awkward. You weren't...you weren't kidding. For a moment, he freezes in place, trying to recollect himself to no avail. Fucking your brother's future wife in a storage room in the middle of the day feels like poorly written erotic romance. Then again, he can't deny the sudden urge overwhelming him at the mere thought of it. You're squirming underneath him, gliding your legs across his now obvious bulge. His common sense is hanging by a comically thin thread and he can almost hear the instant when it snaps. Thankfully some leftovers of sanity must have remained in the back of his mind and his lustful grunts while pounding you are kept low enough that no one is notified of your horny deeds. Shutting you up was the bigger challenge.

"Is this too tight, miss?" You spin in front of the mirror and the servant readjusts the lace corset adorning your wedding dress. You have to hold back your yawn. Downright shameless and perverted of you to daydream about your monster boyfriend while trying on bridal gowns, but it's not like you agreed to it to begin with. You were kind of hoping to discuss future dating prospects post-intercourse, but someone had been looking for you shortly afterwards and you struggled to regain your composure. Your scary-looking suitor shooed you away with the promise of a reunion.

Before the servant can reach for the next dress, you both jump, startled by angry shouts coming from the hall. You rush outside to witness the older sibling standing before the head of the family. The wrathful threats were coming from the much smaller half-human. "Y-you can't just decide like that!" He screams. "Of course I can. You're welcome to fight me for it." The monster sibling flashes a smug grin. "Can anyone here defeat me?" His question is met with silence. He spots you and gestures you to come towards him. "I'll say it one more time. Find another human for my brother if you have to. This one is mine." He ends his sentence in a low growl and you shiver underneath his heavy arm. Boy, what a time to be alive.

#this feels more like a parody but I randomly thought of it last night sorry #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster smut #monster fucker #terato #teratophillia #yandere headcanons #monster boyfriend #monster x human #female reader #monster imagine #monster headcanons

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miracleonice87 · 8 months

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behind the scenes at 30 rock

part of the kissing kelce universe

a/n: the newest installment is here! takes place during Travis's SNL appearance. includes guest appearances from jason, mama and papa kelce, and kelsea ballerini. enjoy!

warnings: mention of pregnancy / related sickness / babies, alcohol, swearing, i think that's it

word count: ~4,000

___

March 5, 2023

Travis was mere hours from hosting Saturday Night Live, the biggest honor of his entire life and career outside of football.

And you? You were sitting alone in his green room – an appropriate name, considering how you were constantly green in the gills these days – being sick in a trash can.

Travis was rehearsing on stage, along with Jason and the cast, while Donna, Ed, and Trav’s management team were being toured around the studio. You had hung back after muttering a lame excuse about needing to call home and walk your parents through how to record the show tonight. Donna had eyed you suspiciously but let it go… and the group left you alone just in time for you to cough up your guts moments after the door closed.

The wave of sickness lasted for a good three or four minutes, and as you sat up weakly, pressing the inside of your wrist to your sweaty forehead before reaching into your purse for your breath spray, you wondered how the fuck you were going to clean this up without anyone noticing. With a groan, you reached for some paper towels, crumpling them up and shoving them into the bag of the offending trash can, then tied the cheap plastic bag tightly closed and put it in another empty trash bag which, thankfully, you found inside the can. Somehow, you kept the gagging to a minimum as you picked up the bundle of bags and walked toward the door, taking a deep breath in when you reached it.

This is so fucking embarrassing.

You cracked the door open just far enough to call out to a young PA walking down the hallway. As he drew closer, you called sheepishly, “Excuse me?”

He whipped his head up and stood straight, not having noticed the partially open door until you spoke.

“Oh, Mrs. Kelce!” he said with a polite smile. “Yes, can I help you?”

You winced visibly. “Actually, yes,” you admitted softly. “Please know that I absolutely hate to do this, but… I was just, uh, sick, in here and… I was wondering if it was possible to get rid of this for me?” You held the bag up a few inches and smiled at him apologetically. “I swear I’m not drunk, I’m just, uh… I’m not feeling well.”

He nodded and gave you an understanding smile.

“Not a problem, Mrs. Kelce,” he said, carefully reaching for the bag. “Trust me, I’ve dealt with much worse than this,” he said playfully, and you were grateful for his assistance and his attempt to make you feel better. “You let us know if you need anything else, alright?”

“Thank you so much,” you said quietly. You read his nametag before continuing. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, Jeremy. And, um, one more thing…”

He nodded again. “Anything.”

“Keep this between us?” you said softly, lifting an index finger to your lips.

Slowly, a knowing smirk stretched across his lips. “Of course,” he assured. “My lips are sealed.”

You nodded, mouthing a final “thank you.” You closed the door and rested your head against the cool frame, closing your eyes and exhaling slowly, relieved that that hadn’t been as painful as you’d feared, and making a mental note to send Jeremy some piece of memorabilia signed by Travis as a token of your gratitude.

You jumped when, just a few moments later, a soft knock came on the other side of the door.

“One second!” you called, ducking into the view of the lighted mirror to check your appearance, reaching for a tissue to wipe at the corners of your mouth.

“Hey, it’s Kelsea,” a voice said quietly. “Can I come in?”

You smiled. Not only was it Travis’s first time on SNL, but it was also the first appearance for the musical guest, Kelsea Ballerini, who just so happened to be one of your favorite artists and one of the most-played on your Spotify account. You had briefly met her earlier and were able to tell her what a big fan of hers you were, and you were thrilled that she was back again, presumably to chat or maybe to take a quick photo before the show.

“Yes, come in!” you called cheerfully as you cleared your throat and tossed the tissue into the trash from three-point range, plastering a mega-watt smile on your features as if nothing at all had happened in the last ten minutes.

She opened the door wearing a sweats set and carrying one of the SNL bags given to each special guest, and you noticed her freshly finished hair and makeup – the final step before the show would be to change into her outfit, which was sure to be stunning.

As you were about to open your mouth to tell her how beautiful she looked already, she shut the door and said abruptly, “Are you okay?”

Your stomach fluttered, this time due to nerves and not the baby in your belly.

How did she know?

You swallowed hard and tried your best to play it off.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” you lied through your teeth with a wave of your hand. “Why do you ask?”

She smiled and shyly ducked her head before meeting your eyes again.

“Well, my boyfriend Chase was just walking past and overheard you talking to the PA about being sick…” You pursed your lips, trying as hard as you could to keep a grin from your face. Kelsea forged ahead. “Now, listen, you do not have to tell me if you don’t want to, of course, but… I doubt you’d be here at all if you had the stomach flu, and you don’t seem like you’ve had too much to drink, so…”

You chuckled quietly, then nodded. After a long pause, you copped.

“We literally just found out a week ago…”

Kelsea covered her mouth as she screamed silently and began hopping from one foot to the other.

“Oh, my god, oh, my god! Congratulations!” she whisper-yelled as she wrapped you in a warm hug. In your wildest dreams, you could have never guessed that Kelsea Ballerini would be the second person – well, technically the third, if Jeremy had in fact caught your drift – in the world whom you told that you were expecting. Kelsea pulled away and held you at arm’s length. “Okay, well, I’m glad I asked – I had a feeling so I brought ginger ale and Jolly Ranchers. That’s what helped one of my girlfriends through her whole first trimester.”

She reached into the bag hanging from her forearm and produced said items, and you pressed a hand to your lips as tears pricked your eyes.

“Sorry, ignore me!” you exclaimed, laughing as you accepted the items. “It’s the freaking hormones. But that is so sweet of you. Thank you. You did not have to do that – you have a show to prepare for!”

She waved her hand nonchalantly. “I know, I know, but this is just girl code,” she said decidedly. “I’ll run back out there in a sec but I wanted to make sure you were okay. Here, sit, sit,” she insisted as she motioned toward the velvet couch.

You did as you were instructed and happily screwed the cap off of the soda, taking a few small sips. The coolness and carbonation of the drink were a welcome sensation on your tongue.

“So nobody else knows?” Kelsea whispered excitedly, scrunching her nose with glee.

As you swallowed, you smiled. “No,” you whispered back, and Kelsea squealed. “I’m only six weeks. We’re gonna tell my brother- and sister-in-law and his parents tomorrow when we go to Philly to meet the new baby, but right now it’s just us who know. And you!”

She clapped her fingertips together enthusiastically. “This is the coolest thing ever!” she exclaimed, tipping her head back.

“Don’t tell Trav that you know!” you warned as you unrolled a watermelon Jolly Rancher and popped it into your mouth. “He won’t be upset, but then he’ll wonder how you found out, and he’s been so worried about how sick I’ve been. I mean, he tried to cancel this,” you explained, motioning generally around the room.

Kelsea held up a hand. “I swear on my life – again, girl code,” she promised. “But what I am gonna do? Is tell my boyfriend to keep an eye on you during the show and get you an out if needed. I don’t need to tell him why – he’ll listen.”

You reached to rest your hand on her knee, squeezing it affectionately. “Thank you, Kelsea,” you said sincerely. “I really appreciate it. I’d say we’d name our baby after you, but that might be a little weird.”

Kelsea burst into a fit of laughter. “Yeah, Kelsea Kelce might be a bit much,” she admitted. “We can workshop it though.”

You giggled, then took another sip of ginger ale.

“Think you’ll be okay to sit through this whole thing?” she asked as you reached for the bag of salt and vinegar chips you’d stashed in Travis’s bag as you were leaving the hotel earlier.

You nodded. “Usually I’m okay for a few hours once I’ve eaten something. Today’s just been so crazy that I hadn’t even realized I hadn’t eaten enough. I can tell you that won’t happen again,” you told her as you popped a chip into your mouth.

Kelsea tutted. “Girl, I get it. I get hangry so easily, and I’m not even pregnant,” she confessed as you beamed. “Well, I’m gonna get out there, but I’m glad you’re hanging in there. And I’m so happy for you and Travis, truly – I know we just met but it’s not hard to see how much y’all love each other and love your family, and you’re gonna be amazing parents.”

Tears welled in your eyes once more as you wrapped your free arm around Kelsea’s neck, and she hugged your waist.

“Thank you,” you managed, voice watery. You sat back and cleared your throat. “Now, break a leg! No pressure, but you’re technically baby’s first concert.”

Kelsea gaped. “I didn’t even think of that!” she said giddily. “Oh, my god, I’m gonna turn it all the way on then.”

___

Backstage, a few hours later, Kelsea and Travis locked eyes in the moments immediately following the end of the live taping and the chaos that ensued. Over her head, she pointed both index fingers at him, doing her best to make a beeline to him through the sea of cast, crew, family, and friends. Travis danced toward her as though he had just caught a touchdown in the corner of the end zone at Arrowhead.

“You did it!” he exclaimed, booming voice echoing throughout the short distance between them.

As she finally reached him, she extended both hands to high-five him, then the two embraced giddily.

“We did it!” she shouted back, clapping him on the back. “You absolutely killed it out there!”

Travis pulled back to point at Kelsea. “You were amazing,” he praised. “You sounded incredible!”

“Thank you, thank you,” she said, bowing playfully. “God, what a night!”

Travis rubbed his palms together. “What a fucking night indeed,” he concurred. “Now it’s time to celebrate – I’m gonna go find my family and get this freakin’ makeup off,” he laughed, then looked at her pointedly. “See you and Chase at the afterparty?”

Kelsea looked at him as though he were crazy. “Are you kidding? We’ll be there with bells on. I’ll meet you for shots in twenty,” she assured, then her expression grew more serious, and she leaned up to speak into Travis’s ear quietly enough so that no one could hear. “Just make sure you check on wifey first – and make sure she eats something before we go out.”

As Kelsea took a step back, Travis eyed her in disbelief.

“Wait, how did you-”

Kelsea pressed an index finger to her lips.

“I’m sworn to secrecy – girl code,” she whispered. Then, as she backed away, she mouthed, “congratulations.”

He shook his head, a bashful smile on his face, and mouthed back, “thank you.”

___

Another hour into the night, after Travis had made sure you had your fill of the Chinese takeout he’d made certain to have a PA deliver to you right after the show, you were watching him hold court in the middle of Mermaid Oyster Bar in Times Square, simultaneously amused by and in awe of the way he was being doted upon as king of the city, even if just for the night. The poignance and ferocity of your first hug upon finding him after the show rivaled the embraces shared between the two of you after both Super Bowl victories, after your wedding vows, and, most recently, upon finding out you were expecting.

But never in any of those sacred moments had you been so fucking tired as you were right now. Fighting against the exhaustion that threatened to overpower you at any moment as you watched Travis in a daze, you hid a yawn behind your palm and blinked furiously. In the corner of your private booth reserved for family, Donna sat sipping her cocktail, eyes never leaving you. When Ed got up from the table to meet someone at Jason’s behest, Donna scooted closer to you, leaning in so that she could be heard above the thumping music.

“We should do a tequila shot together – I know it’s your favorite, and it’s a special occasion!” she suggested, nudging your shoulder with hers.

You threw her a smile which you hoped wasn’t riddled with the anxiety you felt at the proposition.

“You’re crazy!” you accused in jest. “It’s been such a long day, I’ll fall asleep if I take a shot.”

Donna nodded decisively, took a generous sip of her drink, and placed her hand atop yours on the table, studying you.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“Mom!” you suddenly heard from behind you, the single syllable tinged with a familiar northeast Ohio accent, and you and Donna both turned your heads to find her youngest son gaping at you, blue eyes wide with bewilderment and lips parted. “What the fuck?!” he spat as he hurried around to the front of the booth.

Donna guffawed. “Well, now I definitely have my answer!” she said, smacking the table gleefully before throwing her arms around you. “Congratulations, honey!” she exclaimed, kissing your cheek. “Oh, I’m so happy for you!” She reached for Travis’s hand as he tucked into the seat next to you, and you leaned against the table to allow mother and son as much space as possible to embrace behind you in the cramped booth.

“What’s happening?” Jason questioned as he approached alongside Ed, his signature brows furrowed as he looked at you accusingly. Travis and Donna parted and turned their attention to the other two Kelces. You pursed your lips before bursting into nervous laughter.

“Well… our mother just accused this one of being pregnant,” Travis announced, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders as you offered a playful wave, watching Jason’s eyebrows shoot straight up, his color draining from his face at the perceived uncomfortable moment. “And as only Mom could be, she was 100% correct in that assumption.”

“Ayyyy-yyy-yyy!” Jason erupted, throwing his arms into the air before slinging them around both you and Travis at the same time, as Ed clapped in the background. “That’s fucking amazing! Oh my god!”

As Jason made space for Ed to congratulate the two of you, Donna put a finger in the air.

“I want to make it clear that I did not ask based on her weight or appearance or anything of the sort,” she insisted, one hand flush to her chest as if reciting the Pledge of Allegiance. “I only asked because she turned down a tequila shot for the first time in the many years that I have known her.”

Jason and Ed cackled, and Travis drew you even closer into his side.

“Alright nah! That’s my girl,” he joked, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Only eight more months until your next one, sweetness.”

“That is very unlike her, I’ll give you that,” Ed concurred. “So, when are you due, sweetheart?”

You looked up at Travis and shared an elated grin. “Uh, November 6!” you announced. “It’s early – we only just found out last week.”

As Donna clapped furiously and Ed nodded, beaming, Jason held up both hands.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on… isn’t that the first day of Travis’s bye?” he asked incredulously.

You nodded happily as Travis bobbled his head from side to side, pride and euphoria radiating from him, especially in his alcohol-flooded state. Jason stood still as a statue, gaping. “This is insane! You’re probably gonna get to be with her and the baby for, like, multiple days and not have to work or go anywhere,” he pointed out.

Travis nodded knowingly. “You’re goddang right, brotha – everything’s coming up Kelce! Ha haaa!”

Jason chuckled. “You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head. “But shit, am I happy for you guys! Oh, my god, Ky’s gonna flip!”

Travis squeezed your bicep and implored, “Jason, please do not go back to your hotel and drunkenly call her, okay? We’ve been planning to wait and tell her in person tomorrow when we get to your house to meet Benny, which is when we were gonna tell all of you, but apparently Mom had other plans!”

Jason crossed his heart. “Um, you might have to take my phone away from me to make sure that doesn’t happen, but I promise I won’t do it on purpose.”

___

You somehow managed to stay awake until four in the morning, largely thanks to the advice Jason had received from Rich Eisen to sleep in for as long as possible that morning in order to prep for the wild night after the show, but you realized you had finally hit your wall when the crew was ready to head to another location and you were not. Travis pulled you into his chest while the group discussed the route to the next party, his big hands resting on your lower back to keep you close. He ducked his head to speak into your ear, as private a conversation as could be managed in the midst of a gaggle of people.

“I don’t think I’m gonna go,” he said simply.

You shot him a “yeah fucking right” look and immediately shook your head. “No, baby, you’re going – that’s not even a question,” you argued, smoothing a hand across his broad chest. “I’m gonna head back and get some sleep, you’re gonna stay out as late as you can keep your eyes open, and that’s final,” you said, poking him in the sternum.

His fingers ghosted up and down your spine as you spoke, and he smirked in amusement, knowing better than to continue to fight you on this.

“Are you absolutely certain?” he asked. “Because you just say the word and I swear to god, we turn around and walk out that door and go back together right now.”

You shook your head again, toying with his silver chain. “Absolutely not, Trav,” you reiterated. “I’m certain. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and you’re gonna enjoy every second of it. And to be frank, I’m gonna pass out the moment my head hits the pillow, so it’s not gonna make a difference to me whether you’re there or not. Until morning, and you can go back to holding my hair back for me.”

Travis giggled, and his long arms wrapped you in an all-consuming hug as he buried a kiss in your hair. “Gladly,” he stated, and you knew he meant it. He dropped another kiss to your forehead and added, “I love you so bad.”

You hummed appreciatively and tipped your head up to peck his lips. “I love you so bad,” you echoed. “This has been incredible, watching you shine. You were amazing, babe. I’m so proud of you.”

The humility and delight in his eyes was overwhelming, and he cradled the back of your head to thank you with a passionate kiss, the kind usually reserved for private spaces. But this was a special occasion, not to mention how much alcohol your husband had consumed by this point, so you simply smiled against his lips until he pulled away for air.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, my girl,” he said warmly. “Be safe. Text me when you’re in. I’ll see you soon.”

You nodded, squeezing his waist.

“I will,” you promised. “Have a ball, 87.”

_____

But truth be told, Travis did not have a ball once you had left him. Admittedly, he had watched your location on his phone incessantly while you traveled the short distance from the Mermaid back to your hotel, grateful that his mom had accompanied you, having had enough of the party for the night herself. Once he had watched the blue dot representing you reach the front of the hotel, then become stagnant once you had apparently reached your room and minutes later texted him “made it back, getting ready for bed - love you ❤️”, he tried his damnedest to focus on being present and enjoying himself, reminding him that this night was special, just as you’d said.

But with every drink that was poured down his throat, with every celebrity he tried his best to entertain, with every introduction by somebody he was supposed to recognize to somebody else he was supposed to recognize, his thoughts were always, only, with you – whether you were asleep yet, how you were sleeping if so, if you had had enough to eat, how you were feeling. He’d spent so much time away from you this week because of the rigorous schedule of meetings and rehearsals that he just missed you with every fiber of his being – he swore it had to be biological, because anyone who knew Travis Kelce knew that he loved a party, especially one celebrating him. Though he’d never quite felt this way before, his heart simply wasn’t in it.

Around 5 in the morning, he locked eyes with Jason and gave him the high sign, hand gesturing at his neck to indicate that he’d had his fill of the SNL pandemonium. Jason gave a knowing smile and nod, well aware of what was coming next – an Irish exit by his younger brother. Travis knew he would be there for another hour if he attempted to say goodbye to each and every person at the party, even just the ones he knew personally, and with his one-track mind focused solely on his exhausted pregnant wife back in his suite, he made the executive decision to dip out through a side door near the bathrooms. He quickly made his way to the car waiting for him, shared a nod with the driver, and climbed into the backseat.

“How you doin’, man? Back to the hotel, please,” he requested.

“Of course, Mr. Kelce,” the driver replied. “Do you need to make any stops first?”

Travis smiled softly and shook his head. “Not a one – thank you.”

Finally, after what had to be the longest day of his life, he snuck back into the hotel unnoticed thanks to the accommodating staff, slipped in the door to the penthouse suite, quickly shed his outfit leaving on only his boxers, and snuggled into bed behind you, pressing his chest against your back. At his familiar touch and scent, you inhaled deeply and moaned softly, glancing over your shoulder and throwing him a sleepy smile.

“Hey, superstar, you made it back,” you greeted him, voice raspy and thick with sleep as your head dropped back to the pillow.

“Mmhmm, and I have been dreaming of this all day long,” he whispered, kissing a line from your shoulderblade, up your neck, along your jaw and ending at your temple. “Go back to sleep, sweet thing. I gotchu.”

“Mmm, ‘kay. Love you, Trav,” you all but slurred, instantly slipping back into your slumber.

He smiled so big it hurt his face, completely, wholly, overwhelmingly, blissfully content as his hand settled on your lower stomach where a baby bump was still weeks from appearing, your warm fingers lazily covering his.

“I love you, mama.”

#kissing kelce #travis kelce #my writing #travis kelce fic #travis kelce fanfic #travis kelce fanfiction #travis kelce fluff #travis kelce x reader

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shiftythrifting · 2 years

Text

It was already pretty great.

Really didn’t think this was real- it would be funny if it was parody but a google search tells otherwise. Apparently they’re valuable collectors items now.

#shiftythrifting #submission #thrifting #space #political memorabilia #space force?#politics #hats

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deadpresidents · 5 months

Note

What other campaign souvenirs do you have with that badge you shared?

It's actually not a ton of stuff. I wish I'd been better over the years about collecting campaign memorabilia because I'm always jealous whenever I see someone who has a cool collection of things.

I have a ton of buttons and stickers from the Obama campaigns, as well as an Obama '08 yard sign that's signed by Obama. I have a stack of Clinton/Gore bumper stickers that I somehow held on to after all these years.

In 2000, I was young and idealistic and caught up in the excitement of the first Presidential campaign I was of legal voting age for, so I jumped on the Bill Bradley bandwagon very early on in the Democratic primaries. Most of you probably have no idea who Bill Bradley even was, but he was the 2000 version of Bernie Sanders once the legendary Paul Wellstone decided against running for President. Deep down, we all knew that Vice President Gore was going to be the nominee, but there was some excitement for Bradley early on even though he didn't win anything and was basically finished by Super Tuesday. I have some Bradley buttons and stickers, and I have an invitation to a Bill Bradley fundraiser that was going to be held at the home of Geoff Petrie in Granite Bay, a wealthy suburb of Sacramento. At the time, Petrie was the General Manager of the Sacramento Kings and he was a close friend of Bradley, so that was exciting for a 20-year-old basketball fanatic. (Oh...for those who really don't know anything about Bill Bradley, I should also note that not only was he a U.S. Senator from New Jersey, but before that he was star basketball player who won two NBA titles with the New York Knicks and is in the pro and college Basketball Hall of Fame.)

Other than that, I have some posters and a ton of buttons from various campaigns. When I lived in Austin and was regularly going to the @lbjlibrary I would often buy handfuls of the assorted campaign buttons that they sold in their gift shop. I don't know if they still sell them, but it was a huge collection from dozens of different Presidential campaigns from various decades. I think the oldest button I ended up with was for Al Smith's 1928 Democratic Presidential campaign. I'm especially fond of my Wendell Willkie button because it's always fun to mention Wendell Willkie. I got a bunch of Nixon and McGovern buttons and even got a Romney button, but it's not for Mitt -- it's for the unsuccessful campaign for the 1968 GOP nomination by his father, former Michigan Governor George Romney. I have a McGovern/Eagleton button from 1972, which is interesting because Thomas Eagleton was nominated as McGovern's Vice Presidential running mate at the 1972 Democratic Nation Convention and then dropped from the ticket for Sargent Shriver just nineteen days later. And of course, I got a TON of LBJ and LBJ-related buttons -- from the 1964 campaign which sometimes featured LBJ and sometimes featured Hubert Humphrey and sometimes featured both LBJ and HHH, and from the 1960 Kennedy/Johnson campaign.

Here are a few of them (the "We Shall Overcome" button is my favorite:)

The coolest bit of political memorabilia that I have are a set of staff passes from the House Judiciary Committee's impeachment proceedings for President Clinton's impeachment in 1998, including one from the day that the special prosecutor, Kenneth Starr, testified. Former Republican Congressman James E. Rogan, who was one of the thirteen Republicans House Managers who actually acted as prosecutors during the Senate trial following the President's Clinton's impeachment, wrote a really great book called Catching Our Flag: Behind the Scenes of a Presidential Impeachment (BOOK | KINDLE) that I reviewed way back in 2011. In the book, Congressman Rogan (he's a Judge in California now) mentioned that he was a collector of political memorabilia and that he was very cognizant of the fact that he was playing a part in a major historical event -- which I mentioned in the review -- and I also noted that I respected how fair his book was despite the fact that he was a major political player in the impeachment and that he was so clearly from the opposite side of the political tracks than I am. His fairness actually resulted in President Clinton offering to help when Rogan was struggling to win re-election to Congress after the impeachment (which Rogan was grateful for, but turned down because it would hurt him more with his GOP supporters than any Democrats on the fence). ANYWAY...after I posted my review, Congressman Rogan contacted me and thanked me for the review and SENT ME SOME OF THE PASSES THAT HE HAD SAVED FROM THE IMPEACHMENT:

Here's the review of Congressman Rogan's book from 2011 (go buy it). Here's a post where I wrote a little more detail about getting the passes sent to me (and about the whole idea of tickets to impeachment proceedings in general). Also, as I noted in that post, if you are a stalker or a hater, don't go to the address on the letter that Congressman Rogan sent me in that photo because I haven't lived in Texas since 2011. (Also, if you're a stalker who looks like Shakira or Tessa Thompson, just send me a message and I'll give you my address.)

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renranram · 8 days

Note

schlatt x reader japan trip 🙏🙏

Japan

sfw + fluff

introvert female reader joining schlatt for a trip in japan :3

schlatt's and your relationship have been pretty lowkey ever since it started, especially coming from a huge content creator like him some of his fans can sometimes be too overbearing

and to avoid that, the two of you to agreed to keep it lowkey, you weren't really a huge fan of travelling, you being a huge introvert and would pray and manifest that all your events would be cancelled or give you an excuse to not attend them

so it surprised schlatt that you actually agreed to go with him to japan, even agreeing to be in his and jack’s vlog, but introducing yourself as his close friend

so there you guys are, entering a cat shop, jack vlogging the entire thing for memorabilia and content as you follow behind schlatt, smiling in awe with the tons of cats inside

schlatt himself would of course glance at you from time to time, hoping you're enjoying and comfortable throughout the whole trip, “ yo, y/n, what do you think about these little fellas trapped inside of those? “ he asks

“ poor creatures “ you respond smiling at him as jack approaches the tiny kitten aiming his camera in the poor thing's face, “ jack, he looks like he's scared of you “ schlatt jokes as you giggle

“ schlatt look, he looks like you “ you point into a black, kind of chubby cat who's meowing at you, “ oh god it is! “ jack chimes in as schlatt smiles at you, before glaring at jack, “ really? this one looks exactly like you “ schlatt mocks jack by pointing on a sphinx as the man puts an unimpressed face as you chucke at their banter

“ .. i actually like the bald one “ you smile, fixing your glasses as jack cheers, “ see! even your bestfriend agrees im a good-looking cat “ jack spoke with his british accent, smug

“ i am so disappointed “ schlatt comments, shaking his head, being overdramatic as you can only smile and look at your boyfriend in admiration

the whole trip went well, and there was only a day left before going back to texas again, so, the two of you spent it together, alone and intimate as you visit a deer park, no cameras, no vlogging, no nothing more just two of you, enjoying your last day in tokyo

the two of you held hands as you chuckle, feeding a deer it's food as you smile, watching the deer bow, “ he's a polite fella isn't he? “ schlatt smiles, at you and the deer

“ he's very very polite “ you chuckle, “ very cute too “ you add, “ you two are very cute in my opinion “ he shrugs

“ cheesy fuck “ you reply, as he pecks your cheek, fixing your hair, as you gasp, “ look at that one! it has antlers “ you exclaim, pointing at a larger deer with one antler

“ do you think he's polite too? “ you ask, “ i bet he'll bow down in a 90 degree angle “ he replies as you break the food in half, handing the half to schlatt so he can also feed it,” what if we feed him at the same time and he chooses his favorite “ you challenge him

“ he's gonna choose the handsome one “ schlatt replies as you roll your eyes playfully as the two of you offers the food at the same time as the lather large deer bows, before choosing schlatt's

“ aha! see “ schlatt exclaims as you chuckle, the deer now feeding onto your offered food, “ so smug “ you comment, pecking your cheek

“ it's kinda hot “ you comment, smiling, as he didn't hesitate to remove his cap, putting it on you, “ should we go back to the hotel then? “

“ but it's like.. way too earlyy “ you reply as you sigh, before gasping, “ can we uhm…go to arcades and uh.. ive heard they have silly photo booths “ you suggest

and after hearing those, he spoiled you , going to the arcades and photo booths you wanted, as the two of you sat at the balcony of your hotel room, your head on his shoulder as you held hands

“ can't believe it ended so fast “ you sip on some random drink you two got from a convenient store on the way back, “ mhm, i wanna stay here with you longer “ schlatt caresses you hair

“ you know.. i was kinda surprised you actually came with us “ schlatt mentioned as you hums, “ really? “

“ yeah.. i thought we'd have to vc eachother again during the entire trip “ he added as you chuckle, “ i don't know.. it's just.. i wanna atleast spend some moments with you “ you answer

“ well… im glad you came, im just.. so fucking happy “ he cups you by your cheek, pecking your nose, “ im glad i chose the right decision then “ you smile

“ jay… i want to promise something “ you mumble as schlatt nods, shifting on your seat, “ yeah? “ he asks

“ … i wanna uhm.. try new stuffs with you and uhm… travel with you, and do cool things “ you smile, “ i wanna… get out of my shell.. so i can be with you “

“ y/n you know you dont have to force yourself just so you can be with me “ schlatt replies, caressing your face as you shake your head, “ no no, im doing this for myself too “ you fix your sleeves as you face him

“ i promise “ you reassure him as he chuckles, “ so fucking proud if you toots “ he ruffles your hair, “ im glad you're trying out new stuffs “

“ … wanna make japan more memorable? “ he pecks your neck, and you immediately knew what he meant as you nod, smiling, lifting you up without a challenge, entering the back to the room as he trace kisses around your face

@.schlatt4layf • 11 hours ago

my friend from japan just spotted schlatt with a girl?????

↳ 9826 ⇆ 7923 ♡ 11228

oh what the fuck??

#chuckle sammy #chuckle sandwich #jschlatt #schlatt #sleep deprived podcast #jschlatt x reader #schlatt fanfic #schlatt x reader #jschlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #schlatt x you #schlatt fluff #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt fanfic

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adiluv · 8 months

Text

❥ 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌. ˚⊹꒷

🎧୧・꒰summary—wc꒱ you're supposed to be his fan. not la signora's, not childe's, and definitely not il dottore's. 824 words.

💿୧・꒰warnings꒱ yandere character ꒰possessive behavior, petty scara꒱, idol/modern au, slightly suggestive at the end, reader is not traveler, lightly edited.

🎤୧・꒰adi moment꒱ inspired by these hcs! i don't think i'll be beating these scara lover allegations anytime soon, sadly... but anyway! scaramouche is honestly such a petty bastard imo, so i figured i'd mess around a bit with the idea! as always, hope you enjoy! ໒꒰ྀི ⁎ᵕ ᴗ ᵕ⁎꒱ྀི১

as a disclaimer, i don’t support yandere behavior in real life! please don’t interpret this post as justification for any of scaramouche’s actions.

Perhaps it was selfish of Scaramouche to be so terribly possessive over you, though months of correspondence with you had simply robbed him of the ability to care. A rare find, in his eyes, a bright light in an ocean of monotones. Being in an idol group with a whopping eleven other members certainly guaranteed that the attention of fans was finely split, and so he didn’t exactly see it wrong to be a bit more protective over the one that had eyes for him alone.

Or, at the very least, the one that should’ve had eyes for him alone.

Although practically drowning beneath the heaps of other memorabilia you’d come decked out in, the Il Dottore themed lanyard that hung from your phone case was ultimately unable to escape his piercing gaze. He’d always hated the cocky bastard, despised his overly pompous boasting and inflamed ego—but never before had those feelings burnt inside him with such soul-splitting intensity. No, he simply couldn’t help but fume atop the stage as the concert carried on, barely visible glares and the slightest shoves casted towards the senior member.

You weren’t exempt, either.

Was this what you’d wanted? To try and tear him apart with such an intense bout of jealousy? Forcing him—watching him struggle to keep his composure in front of the millions of fans that were watching him?

It was a stroke of luck he’d decided to become an idol, since he would’ve already bit his tongue off if he had the opportunity to keep his mouth closed.

Over the several months you’d known Scaramouche, invitations backstage had become the norm between the both of you—rare moments of alone time together with your body perfectly slotted within his arms and sweet nothings whispered in your ear.

Naturally, it was the absence of this that drove your heart wild.

Even worse was when another fan was granted the honor, personally escorted behind the curtains by the star as fans hounded the duo.

‘He’d never done that for you,’ came the tiny, jealous voice within your mind—fingers clamping shut into fists as you attempted to rationalize the scene in front of you. It was true, of course, that a bodyguard had always been the one to lead you to his dressing room, a slap in the face considering the way he held their hand in front of everybody. Why, oh why, is some… random person getting better treatment?

The both of you were already well aware that this scene would be blowing up come tomorrow, countless articles, tweets, and tiktoks posted by the insignificant pest he’d picked out. And while his cheeks were absolutely straining from the falsified polite smile he wore, seeing the dejected look on your face certainly alleviated some of the burden.

It wasn’t as though you even had the right to be angry with him—it’d just be silly considering this little stunt of yours—but there was something so horribly satisfying about watching you seething, all the same. How sweet! That little pout pulling down your lips, the crinkles forming in-between your furrowed eyebrows. Exactly what he’d been hoping for, pulling a random member of the audience along with him, and he was glad you decided not to disappoint twice in one night.

Maybe, if you’d chosen any of the other Harbingers to pull such a stunt with, he might’ve found it amusing. But showing up to his concert, with tickets that he paid for on your behalf, with merch of Il Dottore? Hah. Inexcusable, really—though it was ‘cute’ you had the gall.

He was certain he’d already gone off on tangents about the man before, certain that he’d already emphasized that only he was worthy of your adoration. Why, then, would you carry through with such a thinly veiled betrayal?

He would not share you with that man.

But no matter..! While the audacity you had to toy with him was commendable in its own right, you weren’t the only one that could play at that game. And Scaramouche? He plays to win. For the sake of proving this point, he’s more than willing to allow you to leave empty-handed tonight, push himself through the agony of being without your touch for a bit longer.

As expected, tickets to the Harbinger’s next concert arrive in your mailbox the day after their latest venue is announced—though the two extra items attached are much more novel. A letter, handwritten by the idol himself, chiding you for this little ‘slip-up’ in your loyalties… and a Scaramouche themed lanyard, orders attached to dispose of your current one immediately.

He’ll be keeping his eyes on his favorite fan.

You’re lucky that he’s being so generous, but even you should know that he has his limits. If you continue to act out, a more… hands-on punishment will be necessary to remind you of exactly who your love and attention belongs to.

But frankly? He doesn’t think he’d mind. ♡

i have a taglist, which you can sign up for here!

#꒰📍꒱﹕my writing ⋆#genshin impact #genshin impact scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact drabbles

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makethatelevenrings · 9 months

Text

Angel By the Wing - Twenty Eight

chapter warnings: pregnancy, alcohol (it's a bar so)

Series Masterlist (Mobile Masterlist)

Despite the fact that this had never been your plan, that you were pregnant and couldn’t even drink, and you were bone tired, the Hard Deck seemed to be your happy place. The dark wood stained with rings from years of cold beer bottles enveloped you the moment you walked in. The walls were lined with memorabilia and photos of patrons, both civilians and servicemembers. Penny bought this place from a couple who opened it back in the 80s. The classic old bar feel was attributed to the fact that it truly was a classic old bar. The jukebox had been replaced so it could still play, but the music was usually rock from the past few decades.

There was something about this place that made you feel alive. You loved it here.

“How are you feeling?” Chelsea asked once you slid behind the bar to help her with the day’s prep.

“I am fine. Baby is fine. The boys literally pouted this morning when they realized they weren’t going to be able to come with me to the doctor,” you recounted. The bar had just opened at four and only a few customers were here. They were the typical crowd who wanted the bar experience but didn’t want to be here when it was a raucous mess.

A few orders for burgers and some appetizers were being worked on in the kitchen, so that left you to help Chelsea fix up the bar and take inventory of what bottles you had for the night.

“Oh, how far along are you?” A soft voice interrupted your counting. You looked up to find a woman seated at the bar. She was older, around Penny’s age, with a soft, plump face and bright green eyes. You offered her a polite smile, figuring she had just stopped off the plane considering she had a suitcase leaning up against her.

“Almost ten weeks.”

Her nose wrinkled up and she let out a hiss between her teeth. “First trimester is the worst, in my opinion. The nausea is always brutal.”

“Oh, my morning sickness hasn’t been too bad. It’s the fatigue that gets me.”

She nodded. “It’s as if the more you sleep, the more tired you are.”

“So it’s not just me? Thank god, it feels like I’m being drained of all energy.”

She laughed and shook her head. “No, it’s common. So this is your first?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Your smile softened at the thought of the ultrasound photo pinned to the fridge in your apartment. You don’t know when it shifted from “Jake’s place” to your place. From Bradley’s inability to put his shoes away to Jake’s propensity to strip off his sweaty workout clothes the second he walked in the front door to your collection of random pens ending up strewn across any and all surfaces in the house. The townhome with its two bedrooms, one for the three of you packed in tightly in the king sized bed and one that was a guest room for now but the soft whispers in the morning about what color should you paint the walls for the nursery was changing things.

“You must be very excited,” she continued.

“And nervous. Can I get you anything to drink? Eat?”

“A Long Island ice tea would be fantastic.”

Quick and simple. You placed the drink in front of her on top of a napkin and smiled. “What brings you to San Diego?”

She took a sip from her drink and waved her hand in the air. “Oh, you don’t need to listen to my life story. I’m sure you have to do this all night.”

Maybe so, but she was a lot nicer and more sober than your usual customers who slurred through sobbing tales about cheating exes and shitty bosses. You shrugged and grabbed a clean rag to work on wiping down the counter.

“If I didn’t want to hear about people’s lives, I would become an accountant or something.” Your smile grew. “So if you don’t tell me, I’m just going to have to come up with ideas. You’re a billionaire boss lady in town for a huge investment meeting. You’re a CIA agent who is trying to get information out of me, but I gotta warn you that I don’t know anything of importance. Or maybe you’re a travel blogger on the hunt for the best beaches in the world.”

She chuckled and shook her head. “No, no. Nothing like that. I’m just here to visit family.”

“And your first stop was a bar? Jeez, is your family that bad?”

Her smile fell slightly and you paused in your cleaning. “No. My son is amazing. Both of my kids are the absolute fucking light of my life. But I don’t know if this will be a happy trip.”

“Why’s that?”

She considered you for a moment, her head tilting to the side in a way that reminded you of Jake in the morning when he woke up too early and couldn’t process any words you said. Her lips curved up into a soft smile and she sighed.

“I’m not drunk enough yet for that conversation. Tell me about you. How are you feeling about becoming a mom?”

The words spilled out of you before you could stop them. You were a mixture of fear and elation, but you were starting to truly believe in this little family you had created. Two men saw the flaws in you and pushed past them. Penny and Sarah were the mothers you had craved your whole life. Natasha, Sofia, and Amelia were your sisters that you always dreamed of having.

Your cheeks ached from the smile that clung to your lips and you brightened as the door opened. Waving in greeting, Natasha and Sofia made their entrance and then went to claim their usual table. Their presence meant that the rest of the Dagger Squad would be on their way. Thanks to Sofia working as a medical receptionist on base, the couple carpooled to work and back.

“Give me one sec,” you told your faithful listener and turned to grab a beer for Natasha and a mojito for Sofia. You were finishing off the garnish on the mojito when two arms wrapped around your middle. Lips peppered your cheeks and the rough, scratchy beard immediately clued you into who it was.

“Hey, you two are not supposed to be behind the bar!” you chided. Bradley ignored your protests and instead buried his face against your neck. You sighed and shuffled yourself around so you could see the infamous Jake Seresin smirk.

“What is wrong with him?” you deadpanned.

“Sorry for missing you, darlin’. How’s you and baby doing?” The stitches on your arm stung when you pulled your arm to the side, but everything else was perfectly fine. When you told them as such, the relief on their faces was instant.

“C’mere, Tex,” you hummed. He settled his hands on your waist and bent his head down to lay a kiss on Bradley’s curls and then to your lips. You stopped him before he could deepen the kiss and shook your head with a laugh.

“Grab some beers, take these over to the others, and shoo. Go. Let me do my job.”

“Can you blame us for wanting to be with our girls all the time?” Bradley teased but he untangled himself from you. You rolled your eyes but the smile never left your face.

Until Jake turned around and met the eyes of the woman you spent the better part of an hour chatting with. He stilled and nearly dropped the beer he was holding if you hadn’t reached out and grabbed it.

“Mom?” Jake blurted out.

Tag List:

@mizzzpink@xoxabs88xox@dreaminglandsworld@khaylin27@loveforaugust@phoenixssugarbaby@atarmychick007@mak-32@itsmytimetoodream@krismdavis@emma8895eb@startrekfangirl@hangmandruigandmav@lunamoonbby@startrekfangirl2233@sihtricswife@jstarr86@drakelover78@abaker74@emma8895eb

#hangster x reader #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #bradley bradsaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #abtw #rooster x hangman x reader #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin

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