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The main difference between the weather being uncomfortably cold, and the weather being uncomfortably hot, is that the things you can do in the cold to warm yourself up (hot food/beverage, blankets, cuddles, nice clothes like sweaters, thick scarves and snazzy jackets, getting exercise) are very pleasant and very effective, and the things you can do in the heat to cool yourself down don't do shit.

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Drarry microfic: Reflection

Reflection sessions McGonagall calls them at the Welcome Feast. Mandatory for all seventh and eighth year students.

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Dean says, disgusted.

Ron grunts in agreement. His eyes aren’t on Dean, but on the older Slytherins huddled at the shadowy end of their table. “We don’t have anything to apologise for.”

Harry’s right hand twitches. Muscle memory, he thinks—the sweeping slash of Sectumsempra, the unyielding vise of Crucio. Or maybe his body still remembers what it felt like to unstopper his rage, hot and cruel as dragonfire.

The shame of it turns his stomach.

While McGonagall waits for the clamour to subside, Harry finds her watching him intently, waiting. He knows what she wants.

Harry nods to her. The others will follow his lead.

128 words for the @drarrymicrofic prompt, "reflection."

Masterlist of my microfics

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TIL that the “left Twix vs right Twix” ad campaign suddenly ended when a giant sinkhole opened up under the Iowa factory that made the right Twix and destroyed the entire building killing 30 people. The story was immediately buried and they stopped mentioning right Twix. Google “SpongeBob x squidward yaoi” for more information

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Okay, something about that kinktober (with no kink) thing that I noticed is this: every fic must have a conversation about a safeword being used, and then use it in the scene. Obviously this comes from the fact that they're treating fictional characters like real humans yadda yadda yadda

But like... the hope behind a safe word is that you're not supposed to use it unless something goes wrong. So like.

This is unironically what they're doing oml

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I can’t get enough of the popular fandom notion that Rooster is a human furnace - he runs so hot he can run around in jorts and a tank top with snow on the ground. And then there’s Jake, who starts shivering the minute it gets below 70 degrees, but he’s got to be a tough macho guy (like Rooster!) so he never brings a jacket with him, either. So Bradley, being the protector of the group, starts carrying a few of his own hoodies in the Bronco “just in case someone needs one” (he starts this even before they figure out their feelings for each other).

Sitting in Mav’s back yard during a BBQ after the sun goes down and it gets a little breezy? “Here Jake, don’t be stupid, put this on. I can hear your teeth chattering from across the deck.” At a carnival at night, and Jake’s a little sunburned from a day at the beach? He’s got goosebumps on his goosebumps and can’t stop shivering, until Bradley drapes a big, soft hoodie around his shoulders, and its so warm from baking in his Bronco all day that Jake just sighs and melts into it.

So yeah, everybody just gets kind of used to seeing Jake wearing Bradley’s hoodies everywhere. His old college sports hoodies or Navy hoodies, all with BRADSHAW or ROOSTER written in block letters across his shoulders.

Maybe the sight drives Bradley a little bit crazy, even when they aren’t “together” together. Maybe seeing his name branding Jake as his own, seeing him a bit swamped in them because they’re slightly too big for him, starts a slow-burning smolder in his core that he doesn’t know exactly what to do with. Maybe his hands get sore from where they clench so hard to keep from reaching out to grab something that isn’t his (yet), even if its quite literally got his name on it. Maybe his eyes track that name bobbing and weaving in amongst the crowd, and he feels even hotter than he usually does, because that’s HIS name, HIS claim.

And maybe Jake can feel those eyes on him. Maybe he shivers just a little bit more noticeably when Roo is around, so Bradley will inevitably go and get a hoodie, and shoves it into his arms, because even chivalrous he’s got to be a little bit of a jackass, and now he’s got an excuse to wear that name on his body. Maybe it sends a thrill down his spine when people mistakenly call him “Bradshaw”.

Maybe it sends a thrill down Bradley’s spine when he hears that, too.

Maybe, when they’re all lying around together watching a movie, Jake sidles up to Bradley closer than he normally would “because you’re a freaking furnace and I’m cold, deal with it Bradshaw,” and Bradley “deals with it” by stealing an arm around his shoulders with a deep, put-upon sigh and the barest beginnings of a grin that he can’t seem to control.

And maybe the Daggers and the 86 boys roll their eyes (affectionately) at these two insufferable idiots who aren’t quite as subtle as they think they’re being.

^ “You’re warm and I’m cold. Shut up and cuddle me, Bradshaw.”

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I’m in love with this!!! Genuinely so beautiful

soft mornings 🌅

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every day british actors wake up and think to themselves fuckkkkk i HAVE to help the incredibly bigoted woman make more money so she can funnel it into killing trans people i have to do it bro if i don't do it i will die

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One of the coolest parts about being a fan of fanfic is you can actually contact the author. And they will respond. And then you can message them nonstop until they allow you into their lives and then you’re becoming their beta reader and suddenly you know multiple authors of all types of fiction books and fanfic authors who will drag out their deleted fics for you to read at a moments notice.

Anyway. Comment on fics and message authors. It’s absolutely worth it.

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Live once, die twice

For the @drarrymicrofic prompt: Rebuild | 94 words

________***________

"I died."

"You did. But you're here now."

"I don't know. It feels like I haven't lived at all. It feels like I won't live, ever."

"Do you want to?"

"Well, I'm here now."

"You're here now."

"Fucking hate the smell of this house."

"I don't know. I think it's nice. I mean all the original tiling is still intact—"

"It's rotted from the inside and it reeks of concentrated dread, Draco."

"Okay, now you're just being dramatic. A bit of renovation, perhaps. We keep the important details, we rebuild everything else."

"We rebuild everything else."

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Imma do this because I’m fucking bored.

What’s your url?

Now take away any and all numbers (1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,0), take away the letters F, Z, M, Q, L, H, B, T, P, E, A, Y, S, B, D, and X, take away all dashes (-),

What’s your new fucked up version of your url?

crustycreature

crucrur

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Today is the only day you can reblog this

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how non-writers think writing works: creating a detailed outline and plan, writing each section carefully and weaving in all the different story threads like a master creator, expertly creating a masterpiece with care and precision

how writing actually works: daydreaming that one scene, creating a half-formed plot in a daze all around it, swearing at characters that don't magic themselves into existence, becoming absolutely obsessed with the story for a solid week, it becomes your entire life, you sit down open a blank word document and write approximately two and a half chapters, lose interest, daydream an entirely new idea for a new story, rinse and repeat

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Loving you is something I can't live without so please let me keep loving you

By: @jakekazansky | Lovehatress

For: @b1g-biscuit | Big_Biscuit

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Rating: M

Word count: 4,057

Summary: “God, did I love you. I still love you. I love you so much it hurts”

Rooster reaches out a hand, catching a stray tear as it runs down Jake’s face, “then why did you say that? Back on the carrier. The night before the mission?”

Rooster can't imagine a life after the mission without Jake. Luckily, he doesn't have to

COLLECTION

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If you come to San Diego

By: @b1g-biscuit | Big_Biscuit

For: @lovemadethemdoit | LoveMadeThemDoIt

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw/Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Rating: M

Word count: 4,013

Summary: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, enjoys his job 90% of the time. The other 10% makes him want to tear his hair out and renounce musicians and festivals entirely.

Jacob Seresin is currently all of his 10%.

Or

The Country Music Festival AU with Bradley as a sound engineer and Jake a performer.

COLLECTION

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a officer and an gentleman

listen. this came to me and its self-indulgent old man hangster and i have zero regrets. it is unedited, i scanned it a second time and #yolo

“Admiral?”

Jake looked up, seeing his secretary hovering in the door, looking nervous about something. Which instantly put him on alert because the last time he had seen Joe nervous about something was during the last big scuffle before the powers that be finally got their heads out of their asses and ended the last Cold War almost six years ago.  Something Jake was fucking thankful for because it added a nice big shiny accolade to the end of his tenure as Commander of the Pacific Fleet.

“What?” Jake demanded, sure his tone came out snippy but whatever had Joe looking like that suddenly had him on edge.

“You’ve got a visitor, sir.”

“I don’t have any appointments,” Jake said, moving to stand, ignoring the ache in his right knee from a bad decision a few nights ago as he straightened and tugged down the front of his jacket, thankful that he had finally listened to his daughter and given into the inevitable progression of age and got it resized so it finally fit properly.

He really did look better, even if part of him mourned his smaller waist size. It was vanity, he knew it, but he had never claimed to be anything other than a little vain. At least he still had his hair.

“No, but uh…,” Joe looked behind him, nervous.

Jake sighed, an inkling forming in the back of his brain. “Let him in.”

The relief that crossed Joe’s face was almost painful to watch as he nodded and stepped to the side, talking to someone who was standing outside. It sounded like there was a short argument that ended with a sigh that reminded him of his granddaughter, done with the world at the ripe old age of four. He took a moment to straighten his desk, the photo of him, his ex-wife and his two kids sitting proud in the middle, the one of him with three grandkids crawling over him next to it, as well as an older photo of him and the other Daggers from over a decade ago, the last time they had managed to get together at the same time. They all still kept up, but they had families, kids, lives, and it was hard to find the time, but they all talked and the older Jake got, the more he appreciated that.

Footsteps sounded and Jake looked up at his visitor arrived.

“Hangman.”

Bradshaw had changed in the same way they all had changed, age taking it’s toll. He was leaner than he had been, the muscle Jake remembered from their youth was long gone, though he would be hard pressed to say Bradshaw was skeletal, more lived in than he had been. Gray hair was beginning to move to white, the brown long even on the fucking mustache that he was known for. But, where the laugh lines had turned into wrinkles on Jake’s face, on Bradshaw’s they were only there if you looked closer.  Bradley would joke about clean living, and the rest of them would just flip him off in the chat that none of them spoke about because the amount of trouble they could all get into if someone saw their conversations would be almost impressive.

“Mr. President,” Jake replied as he walked around the desk to hold out a hand to shake, professional in front of Joe and Bradley’s bodyguard. However, he was unable to stop the smile from crossing his face every time he said that.

Of all of them, Jake knew people assumed he was the one with political aspirations, and in a sense he had. But only for the Navy.  He didn’t give two flying fucks about running the country as a whole, he didn’t have the patience for it.  But, apparently Rooster had. Leaving as a Captain, becoming a senator and then finally getting the nomination and winning. It had been two months since the inauguration and Jake still chuckled everytime he turned on the TV and Rooster was there, the fucking President.

“Mr. president, we really should check…”

“Daniel, it’s fine,” Bradley said, dropping Jake’s hand as he turned to look at his head of security. “If Hangman hasn’t killed me by now, he never will.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Jake said, because he was still an asshole, and it was funny watching Bradley’s bodyguard’s hand twitch toward his gun.

Bradley shot him a look and Jake held up his hands in surrender, knowing there was a fine line between old friends joking and threat against the POTUS. Jake wasn’t interested in finding how close he could get to it. At least not today.

“It’s fine,” Bradley repeated, waving a hand, dismissing Daniel. “Thank you, and close the door.”

Daniel nodded, before he stepped back, clearly wanting to argue but too professional to. He did give Jake an extra glare just before he closed the door. The click of the door was loud in the silence and Jake watched as Bradley walked over and locked the door. Jake leaned back against the desk, crossing his arms as he watched the expanse of Bradley’s shoulders as he took a deep breath and let it out, before he turned and looked at Jake.

“No,” Jake said before Bradley had done more than open his mouth.

Bradley pouted in a way that was very unbecoming of the President. “You don’t know what I was going to ask.”

“I don’t care what it is, no.”

“SecNav.”

Jake frowned, lifting his chin. “Not open.”

“You didn’t hear it from me but Cliff is stepping down. Health issues.”

Jake hissed. “Bad?”

Bradley nodded his head, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. “Which is shit, because we worked well together but I’m not gonna bitch about it. he recommended you.”

“He hates me.”

“Hate is a strong word.”

“We spent most of my last two years in command having arguments about everything. I’m half surprised he didn’t find a way to remove me,” Jake scoffed.   

“He respected you and you ability to get shit done, the end of the war only ended because you’re more of an asshole than the other side and have the balls to follow up on your threats,” Bradley pointed out.

Jake shrugged. “I get shit done.”

“You do, which is why I wanted you as SecNav. I inherited a lot of shit and I need at least one person at my back. You’re a bipartisan dream because no one can deny you know what you’re doing.”

“What does the dear Vice-President have to say,” Jake asked, changing tactics because he knew that gleam in Bradley’s eye and he didn’t have the energy to get into a debate with him about it.

“Likes the idea actually,” Bradley said, taking a step closer toward Jake. “Tho, not gonna lie, pretty sure Nat’s behind the idea because she just wants to boss you around.”

Jake scoffed. “She can try.”

“Which is why you’re good for this,” Bradley said, taking another few steps closer, forcing Jake to tilt his head back. “You know what you’re doing, but you don’t have any issue telling us when we’re wrong, but, you also know when to back off. I know how you work; you know how we work. This would be good.”

“Harvard would also work; he was good as Fleet.”

“He’s two months out from his last chemo treatment, he’s not in a position to do the job and you know it,” Bradley held up a hand before Jake could throw someone else out. “Nat and I have been over this, time and time again. You’re the best option.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Lair,” Bradley said, bending at the waist, getting in Jake’s face like he always did. “You’re fucking bored shitless. You retired, and you did the relaxation thing and that was good for what, two years? Now you’re bored.”

“I babysit the kids, I can’t be bored,” Jake argued, hating how well Bradley knew him.

Bradley snorted. “If yours are anything like mine they get bored of Grandpa after like two hours and then go and do something that my knees can’t do anymore.”

“How is the former Mrs. Bradshaw by the way?”

“Happily running the white house staff with an iron fist,” Bradley said, shrugging. “Divorce was the right option for us. How’s Naomi?”

“Happily remarried and irritated I get along with the new husband as well as I do.”

“You’re doing that on purpose.”

Jake shrugged, unapologetic. It had been time for them to split, it didn’t mean that Jake wasn’t a little irritated Naomi had found someone as quickly as she had.

“What’s in it for me?” Jake asked, lifting his chin, never able to back down easily.

“You get to boss the entire Navy around.”

“An upside. What else?”

“My eternal gratitude?”

“So, normal?”

“Nat will have to play nice in public.”

“Should’ve led with that,” Jake said, causing Bradley to huff in amusement, shaking his head before he sighed, bracing a hand on the desk and getting even closer to Jake until all he could smell was his cologne, spicy and warm the same as it had always been. “Say yes, Jake.”

“No.”

Bradley smiled softly, as if he had been expecting this as he shifted closer, forcing Jake to spread his legs to make room for the man. “Jake.”

“Bradley.”

“Me.”

“What about you?” Jake asked, even as he found himself leaning forward, helpless.

“It’s a lot easier to make time for me when I have an official reason to see someone,” Bradley murmured, voice low. “You’d be closer, in the House as needed. This could be something.”

Over forty years of history and in the end, all it took to collapse the already blurry lines between them were two divorces and a night of celebratory drinking after Bradley had gotten the nomination to run. No one knew, or if they did they weren’t saying anything and Jake was happy with that. They hadn’t talked about it, but they knew each other, and they knew this was for them alone. They were old, they had families and lives and whatever was between them was between them, however it looked.

“Now that is a job perk,” Jake said, moving to stand up, Bradley standing with him but not moving back until they were standing chest to chest, the smirk of Bradley’s face as familiar as his own at this point. “Fine.”

“You won’t regret it,” Bradley said, reaching up and cupping Jake’s face, rubbing a thumb over his jawline.

“Smug doesn’t look good on you.”

“That’s a lie,” Bradley murmured, leaning in with a grin that had won him every single swing state.

And Jake.

“How long do you have?” Jake asked.

“Scheduled myself two hours, figured it’d take some time to convince you,” Bradley explained/

“And here it only took you ten minutes. You should be proud of myself.”

Bradley hummed. “I think it’ll still take me two hours.”

“Oh well, far be it from me to argue,” Jake murmured, wrapping an arm around Bradley’s waist and pulling him closer, figuring he might as well make his other knee ache to match the first from a few days ago when they had crossed paths at a fundraiser.

“That’ll be a first,” Bradley quipped, causing Jake to huff.

Jake tilted his head to the side and leaned in, his lips brushing over Bradley. “Mr. President.”

“Admiral,” Bradley replied, before crushing their mouths together in a kiss that made Jake feel thirty-three all over again.

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This is so beautiful!

but I'm out of my head when you're not around