It Just Kills Me When Writers Create Franchises Where Like 95% Of The Speaking Roles Are Male, Then Get

It just kills me when writers create franchises where like 95% of the speaking roles are male, then get morally offended that all of the popular ships are gay. It’s like, what did they expect?

fluffy or funny prompt: jake or bradley finds out what the other has named them in their phone contact list/ finds out the (profile) picture they have set when called/ find out the phone background is of the other

Don't know if this meets what you meant but here it is! it might not make much sense but I haven't read it over after writing

Thank you so much for this prompt (and the other ones as well, will try to get to them at some point I think 😅)!

...

Sometimes, Jake thinks that if Bradley’s head wasn’t screwed on, he’d have lost it long ago too. Jake’s thought he was used to it but since he moved in a week ago, it’s been non-stop. This time, he’s been calling Bradley’s phone for the past five minutes, trying to find where in the house he’s left it.

Finally, Jake finds it vibrating in their bedroom, in their bed, of all places, and under Jake’s pile of pillows.

The face that greets him on the screen is his own — it’s his Facebook profile picture because Bradley is the type of old man that links his Facebook with his contacts book, no matter what he says. That part doesn’t surprise him, but as he lets it ring and ring in his hand, he can’t help being a bit offended.

“You have me saved by name and surname? Not even a heart emoji next to it,” he complains. The screen flashes once, Jake Seresin NOK written on top disappears and the whole thing swaps to black and then to Bradley’s basic default lockscreen. “What am I to you, your accountant?”

Only way it could be worse is if he used Jake's government name, Jacob and all.

“I've got everyone saved up that way, you’re not that special baby,” he says, unamused. “My pops did it this way and he was fine.”

For a second, something in Jake’s mouth dries out — he’s rarely heard anything about Bradley’s dad and yet this small little bit takes the air out of his lungs. Bradley doesn’t elaborate because he never does but he’s so used to it almost doesn’t hurt.

“Knew you're an old man deep down your heart.”

Bradley grumbles under his nose, rolling his eyes before he reaches his hand out for the phone — yeah, not gonna be that easy just now.

“Hey,” Jake says as he pretends to give him the phone. “What does NOK mean?”

“Nothing,” Bradley replies, his whole face turning a nice shade of pink that is only reserved for three things — being caught being sweet, being embarrassed, and being horny. Jake swiftly hides the phone behind his back, swapping the hands that come and try to “Come on, I was looking for it for a reason, I need to make a call—”

Bradley steps closer, close enough his knee pins Jake’s legs to the edge of the bed. Any closer and they’d be chest to chest, the warmth of his body already inviting Jake to lean into it, lean forward and take Bradley down into the bed with him.

“What are you so embarrassed about, huh? Got a gallery of my sleeping pictures in there?”

“Jake,” he spits out, arms trying to reach around Jake’s torso — he might have longer limbs than him, but Jake is faster and has more siblings to give up easily. “Sersin.”

“En—Ooh—Kay,” he repeats and then repeats again, now holding the phone behind his head, up in the air.

Bradley takes a step back and looks at the unpacked box of Jake’s shoes on the floor. His cheeks are full-on red now, and he’s pouting in that cute, hypnotising way that makes Jake want to squeeze his face and kiss his pretty little red nose.

“It means next of kin.”

“Oh,” is all Jake can get out for a second. His arms fall to his sides. “Am I your—”

Bradley nods his head before he can even finish. He’s still not looking at him. Jake doesn’t say but all he can think of is that his ma is his next of kin still.

“Most people just go with In Case of Emergency, you know,” he says instead. Bradley isn’t his NOK but he’s his ICE. There’s a difference. “Woulda be nice if you said something.”

“Well,” Bradley doesn’t even try to quip back, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Can I have my phone back now?”

Jake does the carrot and stick thing again — hand with the phone out and retreating back as Bradley is inches away from it. He needs something more, some kind of explanation, explicit one that will confirm to him what Bradley means with the things he did.

“I don't know, can you?” he asks. Bradley scowls at him. “Shouldn't I at least know your code if I'm your next of kin?”

Instead of going for the phone again, Bradley flicks him on the nose. “I’m going to use the landline.”

They’ve been together for over nine months and he still doesn’t know so many things about Bradley, even as fundamental as who was his next of kin before Jake, or what happened to his dad.

Even just looking at Bradley’s phone, he feels something bitter — the joke about Jake’s sleeping pictures was the first thing that came to his mind, but the truth is, he doesn’t know what Bradley could have on his phone. He doesn’t use it often, far less than his walkman and his ipod, but he likes to take blurry pictures that Jake never sees the appeal of — planes in the sky, motorcycles he never even looks to buy, the seaside.

He’s never seen him take pictures of Jake.

Bradley’s phone is asking him for the pin code and Jake doesn’t know it but he wishes he did. It’s not like he wants to look at his texts or search history. He tries anyway — Bradley’s birthday gets him nowhere, his mom’s birthday gets him nowhere.

On a whim, he types in 1216. And it unlocks. Sixteenth of December is his birthday.

What knocks the breath out of his throat is the homescreen picture.

It’s Jake’s face, sleepy, blinking at the light from the phone’s lens, half-buried into Bradley’s chest and his ugly UVA hoodie. He doesn’t even remember Bradley taking this photo, doesn’t remember which of the times Jake napped on Bradley it is from, how long it could’ve been set as Bradley’s phone background.

“Oh.”

He locks the phone again. He’s seen what he wanted to see.

guys i don't want to sound like a slut, but i want hugs

Hangster, Famous AU: Pro Golfer Bradley x Actor Jake.

"Rumors have been swirl about a rather....torrid affair between yourself, Jake, and professional golfer, Bradley Bradshaw. Is there anything you'd like to say about the rumors?" Jake bites back the urge to sigh heavily as Javy asks the question he's been dreading to receive for his upcoming press tour for his latest movie. Instead he shoots his best, and oldest, friend a glare and thanks whatever deities that are looking down at him that at least he's been asked this while doing Javy's podcast and not on one of the many talk shows he's been booked to do for the next few weeks. Small mercies he guesses. He lets out a huffing laugh and says, "Well I'm sure some would love a little truth about an affair or so, to stir the pot as my Memaw would say, but truth his Javy, Bradshaw and I have been friends for a few years now, since he was hired as an instructor on one of my first major break out roles. The problem I believe stims from us both being out and proud queer men, who happen to be good friends for nearly a decade now. Besides, everyone know I ain't look to be settled down now and everyone knows Bradshaw's ridiculously devoted to his husband." Javy lets out a little laugh before swiftly moving on to his next question. ~~~~~~~ "Not lookin' to settle down now, baby?" Turning, Jake grins, big and bright as he sees Bradley leaning up against the doorway to the room Javy records in, wearing a pair of Jake's own sweats and his oversized hoodies, "Hey, darlin'." Shoving himself up and off the couch, he strides over, hands reaching out to cup Bradley's scruff covered cheek and tilts his head down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. "Why would I need to look to settle, when you already got me to do that nearly thirteen years ago, honey?" Bradley lets out a soft hum, kissing back once, twice and then again before drawing back to smile dopily at him. "That is a fantastic point, sweetheart." "And you are ridiculously devoted to your husband," Jake adds, lips some how stretching into a wider, brighter grin, "I should know, since I'm him."