#And like…. To be super on the nose… the fact that my family had two patriarchs (my mom and dad both pursuing capitalistic success)…

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

all the conversations on my dash about marriage are soooo interesting to me!! I talked to my partner’s mom last night about my intention to propose to her son this week and one of the things we talked about was how there’s this really insidious aspect of white feminism that convinces us that marriage and family are shameful or stupid to want because the real things in life are outside the home (ie. working under capitalism). That belief has historical roots in anti blackness and the split between white feminists and black feminists back in the 60s/70s. And idk it’s just so interesting to see how my mom, who raised me with a very strong foundation of second wave feminism, influenced my perception of pursuing my own happiness in ways that feel authentic to me! I love hard! And I want to be surrounded by love for the rest of my life! But in the back of my head, the entire six years of my relationship, her voice has been saying “you don’t need a man, marriage is not something to aspire to because it makes you weak and dependent.” Which is just so interesting bc she’s never said those exact words, but that’s the messaging that we get from second wave/white feminism. The thing is that I DO need other people! Nobody is actually independent, and it is a myth created by capitalism to fracture communities so that every single person is financially motivated to secure their own safety/basic needs without ever needing to rely on anyone else! Everybody needs their own personal house, car, furniture, dishes, electronics, etc because sharing is inherently “undeveloped”.

I was talking to my therapist about this recently and I brought up New Romantics, and how being a young adult in a cultural setting informed strongly by second wave feminism really convinced me (and a lot of people) that the Liberated way to be a woman was to not care about seeking that life-long stability in a partner. That to be free meant never opening yourself up to the vulnerability of a marital commitment. Which then leads into the lavender haze thinking of “the only kind of girl they see is a one night or a wife” which, by self-gaslighting, devalues marriage (she’s valid for this! We should not be put in boxes like that!).

Idk I just have been thinking a lot about the right to legally unite families, and how much power that union can have, and that there is in fact nothing Wrong with wanting to exercise the political right to choose your family. And I know, having worked with hundreds if not thousands of domestic violence survivors, how dangerous marriage can be. Being legally and financially bound to someone, especially if you haven’t been working outside the home during your marriage, can truly fuck up a person’s life and their ability to leave a situation. Idk I’m just thinking out loud, but to tie this all back into the conversations on here the last few days about Taylor and Travis, I just think that for some people, the reflexive horror at her potentially being engaged could be coming from a similar place of devaluing the pursuit of family/love in the context of a white feminist capitalist culture, which harms us all.

The revolution starts at home! And that doesn’t mean that nobody should be making commitments to each other ever!! And nobody should be forced or coerced into lifelong commitments, either. Pursuing and entering a marriage with someone who respects you, empowers you, wants to work together towards a shared vision of the future, listens to you, and shares responsibilities with you is an AMAZING thing! And as my partner’s mom said so simply to me last night: it deserves to be celebrated!!

[soup-spoonn]

The weight of the world

A certain scene taken from this post by @medusas-graveyard

:D

(Kinda a long part, no TWs :3)

Danny had been living with the Wayne’s for about two months now, and they have long since found out about his Ghost King status.

He’s been exhausted, what with his king responsibilities, batfam responsibilities, and the Wayne kid responsibilities.

King responsibilities are the worst of them all though.

He started down the hall, hearing Dick say, “where’s Danny at?”

“Alfred replied with, “young master Daniel is still resting, and will be with us shortly.”

Then Damian chimed in begrudgingly, “he acts like the most fatigued person here.”

He opened the door to the dining room saying, “convincing actual gods not to destroy humanity is fatiguing, Dames, give me a break.” He ruffled Damian’s hair, who slapped his hand away, not quite registering Danny’s words.

“Danny, what?!” Dick asked incredulously.

“Nuthin’ important,” he said, yawning and stretching widely, his sharp canines bearing for a moment.

He then dug into the plate of food Alfred brought him, ignoring the concerned looks shared around the table.

-

“So, Danny, wanna talk about what you said earlier? At breakfast?” Dick asked, being the fourth person to today.

“Mmm… no.” He said, for the fourth time today.

“Uhm, well what you said was… concerning to say the least.” He said, trying to convince him to talk.

“Mmm… no.” He repeated shortly.

He wanted to tell them about it, but he knows how his newfound family gets.

When something bad could happen, they all jump to conclusions and start worrying and checking in and spying on you.

It’s sweet really, but unhealthy as hell.

Not to mention annoying.

Nope, Danny is not up for the weeks of stalking. Damn his sleep deprived brain.

-

“Danny, we need to talk.”

Lovely. Bruce himself is asking to talk.

“Mmm… no, thank you.” He was more polite, as he literally owes this man his life and afterlife.

“Danny.” He said, and Danny stopped in his tracks at the seriousness in his voice.

His heart literally stopped.

“I’m sorry, but I already said all that’s important! There’s nothing else to be said.”

“Maybe, but you should’ve said something. Is that why you’ve been getting home late the past week?”

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, B.”

“It’s not your fault, but you’re too young to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Who isn’t though? And anyway, I’m used to it! You know, one time I brought the entirety of my hometown back from the ghost zone? Not without help, but still!”

Bruce looked taken aback, and replied with, “that’s not a good thing to be used to, Danny.”

“There’s no turning back time. Except for Clockwork, but he can’t change this timeline.” He said with a shrug.

Bruce shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Danny, you should probably talk to your siblings, they’re very concerned.”

Danny heaved a sigh, “think I could just tell Dick? He’s the most approachable. And he likes gossiping, thinks he’s sneaky. It’s hilarious.”

“Yeah, that should suffice.” Bruce responded with a sigh, walking away afterwards.

-

An hour later, Danny told Dick about the thing with the gods and all that, and Dick looked ponderous, and asked, “how do you convince them? And which gods are they?”

Danny turned pink and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I showed them my memories of you guys… they’re sometimes super nice, and they need a reminder of humanity and their kindness at times… you know?”

Dick looked like he was gonna cry.

“You! Use memories of us! To save the world?!”

“… yeah…” Danny replied, still pink.

“Awwe! I’m gonna tell everyone!”

Danny let out a sigh as Dick skipped off happily, then he continued to his bedroom and closed the door.

He sat in his room at his computer until dinner, then afterwards he returned.

Until it was dark out.

-

One thing Danny really doesn’t like about Gotham is the fact that the smog over the city makes it so he can’t see the stars at night.

Sometimes he just… goes ghost and flies to above the city, above the smog, and the death, and the pain and misery the city harbors.

He doesn’t tell his family, but he’s ninety percent sure Jason already knows.

He sat in his airy sanctuary, gazing up into the stars longingly, feeling his core vibrate happily.

The stars are so incredibly beautiful and bright.

Danny smiled softly as he felt another presence floating over to him.

Superman.

He turned to the large man, who often joined him in his stargazing, to talk about life.

He’s probably told Superman more than he has Bruce.

About GIW, his responsibilities as Ghost King, his parents and Jazz…

He misses Jazz so dearly.

The two sat in silence for about two minutes, until Superman spoke first, “how’s life going, kid?”

“…I miss my sister.” He said calmly, still staring blankly at the stars.

Superman didn’t share much with Danny, as he likes just helping the boy with his troubles.

He knows of his family, who attacked him three months ago when he told them his secret.

He then traveled toward Gotham, to try to escape the GIW and his parents.

Jason then found him in Crime Alley, about to be attacked by a gang, and took him to Bruce to keep him safe.

Clark knows now that the boy lost everything he loved, and was hoping to be ended by the gang, so he could go back to the stars. (As he said)

Bruce and his family gave him something to live for, and he took a while to trust again after the two very people who raised him tried to hurt him out of- what, fear? Rage? Curiosity? It baffles Clark what their reasoning was for attacking their son.

“I know son, and I bet she misses you too.” He said, offering him the smoothie he brought for him.

Danny accepted gratefully, sipping on the smoothie- ooo strawberry!- as Superman smiled, and his Justice League communication device vibrated, disguised as a watch, and he sighed, looking at the message sent by Batman.

“Sorry, Danny, I have to go, you know, Justice League stuff.” He waved and started toward the closest zeta beam.

Danny sighed, supposing that he might as well go home and to bed, as he hadn’t brought his phone this time.

-

“Danny’s not in his room?” Tim asked, “ where is he?”

“I don’t know, he left his phone here!” Dick replied, panicked.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”

“Danny! You startled me! Where were you?!” Dick asked, spinning around to look at him.

“I went on a walk.” He said calmly.

“We’re in Gotham, you can’t just go on a walk.” Jason replied flatly.

“I… I do that sometimes.”

“Whatever…” Jason said, defeated.

“Anyway, we’re gonna play mario kart, wanna join?” Tim piped up.

“Sure!”

Danny and Tim walked off toward the game room together happily.

-

After Jason kicked everyone’s asses at two games, then teamed up with Dick for the third, everyone was too bummed or pissed to play another round and went to bed.

Dick stayed, as he said he wanted to have a conversation with Danny. He was nervous, but complied.

I will probably continue this but idk :Þ

[queenie-ofthe-void]

A follow-up to my Hanahaki Platonic Stobin drabble

Platonic Stobin, Steddie, past Stancy || rating: T || wc: 2.7k || tags: dialogue heavy, VERY excessive use of italics, fluff and flirting and humor, no beta

~~~

His sides are ripped to shreds, insides only kept inside because of the torn, dirty scrap of sweater Nancy wrapped around him. Steve’s been downplaying it as much as possible, mostly to keep Munson calm, but Robin knows better.

What’s wrong with your back?

Steve sighs, trying to mute his thoughts into a scramble like they’ve practiced so well over the past nine months, but the scorching pain on his shoulder blades, feet, and arms makes it rather difficult.

Don’t you dare ignore me Steve Harrington.

She glares back at him from her spot next to Nancy. They’ve been walking for miles, every rock and crack in the ground digging into his feet with every step. Munson’s next him, going on about something like bats, or metal music. Steve’s not sure, he’s having a hell of a time focusing.

But the guy crowds into Steve’s space, dipping in and out of orbit like he can’t help being as close as possible. Eddie keeps looking at him. Steve’s never been great with eye contact, but can’t help it when Eddie starts saying things like “the kid worships you, dude” and “insists on the matter, in fact.”

Told you the kid loves you even though he has another older adult male friend.

Steve can practically hear her giggling, but she’s just balancing her out-loud conversation with their mind-reading conversation. She’s better at it than he is, talking to two people at once. Hell, sometimes Steve has a hard enough time keeping track of just one conversation.

Their new super powers had been a learning curve, to say the least. It’d taken them months to learn how to tune each other out when needed, which was more often than not. Working Family Video shed a new light on how absolutely down-bad horny Steve was for almost every mildly attractive woman who walked through the front door. Including Joyce Byers, to Robin’s horror.

Steve was cursed with Robin’s almost near-constant thoughts about her newest crush, Vickie. He’s never met her before, doesn’t remember her from school, but could describe what she looks like down to the small, rust colored freckle on the corner of her left eye, just below the lash line. 

But even with the extensive learning curve, they discovered some severe consequences of their powers almost immediately. 

The first day Robin came over, bloodied and crying, with him no better off, Steve was so shaky he’d dropped a mug, slicing his hand as he scooped up the pieces. She rushed over, said she heard his pain more than felt it, like loud static. 

So, no sharing physical sensations, just mind-reading. Which is great for me, considering how slutty you are. She’d laughed when he lightly knocked her on the shoulder, but she’d thought it with such fondness that he couldn’t be mad if he tried.

The worst of their situation came to light when Robin’s parents called her home, said a weekend away after Star Court was more than enough. So she’d left him alone in that big, empty house, suffering from a severe concussion and dizzy spells.

Which only grew worse the longer they were apart.

Steve didn’t have anywhere to go, now jobless with the mall gone, and none of the kids came to visit. So he’d holed himself up in his room. The headaches grew worse, handfuls of pills doing nothing to help.

By the fifth day, he was vomiting again, shaking and crying, head throbbing, nose bleeding into the toilet bowl all over again when there was a knock on the door. The knock might as well have been inside his skull, but he couldn’t move, could barely see past the haze clouding his periphery like it had after his fight with Billy. He cried as the knocking grew louder, more persistent, until it finally stopped.

He slumped forward, pressed his head into the cool porcelain. Lifting his hand to flush, he noticed a small, vibrant white petal floating amidst the red and black water, all of which, presumably, came out of him.

–can’t find it. Must be… rock. The mat?

Robin?

There was a click, then the sound of his front door opening. Slow, heavy footsteps up the stairs.

Dingus where the hell are you? Not in the bedroom… Please, Steve, I need help.

That got his attention, but as he’d gone to move, the bathroom door opened to a bloodstained Robin, eyes rimmed red, hair a mess, pale and gaunt like a ghost. She dropped to the ground next to him, practically draped herself over his back. And just like before, the pain receded so violently he vomited one last time. A full, yet slightly crumpled, flower floated amidst the yuck inside the toilet. 

It was a daisy.

“Daisies are my favorite,” Robin whispered. She held out her hand to him, dirty and covered in the same green stains as the ones on her shirt, and handed him a very small, miniature sunflower. “So I’m guessing–”

My favorite.

Eventually they’d figured out what works and what doesn’t. Talking on the phone everyday never helped, back to throwing up flowers after only a week. He’d started to pull the daisies out to dry, which Robin said was gross. She took them home with her anyways. 

But he’d borrowed Robin a sweatshirt that she took home with her, and by the fourth day, she was in better shape than he was, only a slight headache instead of Steve’s encroaching migraine. So they started exchanging clothes and quickly learned it wasn’t necessarily their clothes or possessions, but their scents. 

You smell kind of like sunflowers

“Robin, sunflowers don’t have a smell.”

She was face first in his pillow, day seventeen after a two-week family vacation to Key West, returning his comforter, and a myriad of t-shirts. They’d both gotten migraines, but no vomit-soaked flowers or bloody noses. So it was an improvement, overall.

I know they don’t. It’s more like, I don’t know, sunshine. Or fresh grass. A warm rain… like summer.

He’d jumped on her then, smothered her into his mattress until she was tickling him to get off her.

“What do I smell like?” she’d asked, casual but not quite casual enough. He smiled.

Like daisies. An open field full of wildflowers. A new song, or driving with the windows down. 

She smiled back at him, wide and genuine, packed full of love. And he knew, in that moment, he was happy to spend the rest of his life with her.

“Harrington,” Eddie cuts through his reminiscing. The guy looks like he’s trying not to be annoyed, which makes sense considering he’s attempting to be nice and Steve’s completely zoned out. 

Do you have another concussion? Is it rabies?

He sighs, quiet enough that hopefully Eddie doesn’t assume it’s aimed at him. No, Robs. Just a normal dingus-where-did-you-go zone out. Relax.

She shoots him another glare over her shoulder, but ultimately lets it go.

“Harrington, you still with us?” Eddie laughs it off like a joke, but his eyes are wide, and he’s pressing in close again.

He’s warm, and without thinking, Steve finds himself leaning towards him, too– like magnets.

What magnets?

Never mind, Robs, shut up.

“Yeah Munson, I’m still here.” Steve chuckles, and Eddie relaxes a tad. “Can’t get rid of me that easy. I’ve dealt with worse.”

“Worse than an under-water tentacle monster dragging you through hell on your bare-back and almost choking you to death?”

When Eddie puts it like that, Steve really does have to think about it. “What about throwing fireworks at a giant, mind-controlling flesh monster and getting tortured under Star Court by Russian spies who shot me and Robin up with mystery drugs?”

DINGUS! If we haven’t told the Party about our super powers you can’t tell a goddamn stranger like Munson!

Eddie’s eyes are wide and dark again. He chuckles a little too loud, almost deranged. “Yeah, you know what, Harrington, that might be worse.”

They continue to walk in silence. Well, Steve’s silent. He lets Eddie ramble, talking about Dustin, something called a Munson doctrine. He calls Steve a ‘good dude’ at which Steve hopes the sky is dark enough to hide his embarrassed flush.

Eddie says something about the girls jumping in to save him, but he leans in again when he says it, and all Steve can think about is how close he is, the light brush of Eddie’s knuckles against the back of his hand–

What…?

– and the comfort that settles over Steve when he catches Eddie smiling at him. They stop in unison, Eddie leans in close to whisper like it’s a secret.

“But Wheeler, right there, she didn’t waste a second. Not one second. She just dove right in.”

Eddie’s barely shorter than him, just enough that he looks up at Steve through his dark lashes, big, brown, puppy-dog eyes hooked onto his own. He knows guys can be handsome, but he thinks Eddie might be more pretty than handsome.

I’m sorry? What the fuck is happening back there!

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you two,” Eddie says, low and slow. His voice full of honey that soaks into Steve’s brain, the actual words lost in the overwhelming sweetness of everything that is Eddie. “But if I were you, I would get her back. ‘Cause that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen.”

Steve can’t stop staring at his lips. They’re so pink and fluffy and biteable, so he leans in, like instinct tells him. Eddie looks surprised, but brushes his finger tips against Steve’s own. He whispers, “Steve…?” like it’s more revelation than question. Eddie’s so close that Steve just��

“Are you fucking kidding me, Steven?” Robin shouts, incredulous and much too loud. Eddie flinches away from him, hides behind his hair like a turtle shrinking back into its shell. Steve’s shoulders droop in disappointment.

Disappointment? Wait. Did I almost just kiss–

“Eddie Munson?” Robin finishes his not-out-loud sentence.

“Buckley?” Eddie asks, nervous as the girl marches towards them, her eyes locked on Steve.

“Yes, Dingus!” Robin completely ignores Eddie’s response in favor of barreling up to Steve, finger so close to his face he goes cross-eyed. “Yes, you were, and oh my god I can’t believe you!”

Robs, I’m kind of freaking out right now. Can you please relax?

“You’re freaking out?” she shouts. Nancy shushes her, but it goes unnoticed. “I’m freaking out! After all this time, after Tammy fucking Thompson, this is happening right now? With– with– ” Robin wildly gestures to Munson. “Goddamn, Steve, you reek of sunflowers right now, oh my god! Just like when Joyce came into the store.”

It’s as dark as it always is, but a flash of red lighting illuminates the red painted across Eddie’s cheeks as he bites on his lip, looking nervous yet almost bashful as he pulls another larger strand of hair across his face.

“Sunflowers? What’s happening right now,” he whispers to Nancy, who shrugs. She answers with a casual, “I’m not sure, they do this a lot.”

“That’s not fair!” Steve quietly shouts back at her. “What’s wrong with–” he glances at Eddie, who flushes again. He’s so pale I bet he’s red down to his…

“Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Robin throws her hands over her ears and pinches her eyes closed.

Steve forces a smile to cover his gay panic. Shit, am I gay?

“No!” Robin slaps both her hands on either side of his head, mushing his cheeks together. “You’re not g–” she mushes her mouth shut, catching her slip-up just before it tumbled out of her. “And that’s not what that kind of panic means, so don’t call it that.”

“Panic?” Eddie asks, stepping towards them. His eyes are trained on Steve, flashing down to his lips, then back up to catch his gaze. Steve sees something like hope buried beneath Eddie’s tough guy demeanor. “But I thought–” he glances at Nancy before quickly looking away.

Robin rolls her eyes at him, and Eddie backs off a bit. Except his look doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Me?” Nancy asks. “What about me?”

Robin, don’t–

But it’s too late, because at that question, everyone turns to look at Steve.

Over the past few months, Steve’s started growing out his hair. It’s not really in style, but he’s seen a few guys with long hair, and they looked really good. Right now, he wishes it was long enough so he could hide behind it like Eddie. But, then again, he’d also tried growing a mustache, since Freddy Mercury had amazing style– Steve’s always like Queen.

Except my mustache never looked as good as his, so I bet long hair wouldn’t either. Maybe the short hair helps highlight it, like his cheekbones.

Jesus Christ, you’re so obvious. I can crack Russian spy code phrases enough to break into an underground military base but apparently I can’t spot a bisexual within five feet of me.

Steve sighs, dragging his hands down his face at Robin’s inside-mind rambling. Nancy, however, takes it to mean something much different. “Oh, Steve, no.” Her voice is pitying and too nice and it reminds him painfully of the last few months of their relationship. Like she’s talking to a child. “Steve, I’m so sorry, but– I still love Jonathan.”

“I know, Nance, that’s not–”

“Are you kidding me, Wheeler?” Eddie screeches. Steve really doesn’t understand how they’re so lucky that they haven’t been hunted down and eaten by now. 

Eddie’s thrown his hands up in the air, all theatrics as he gawks at her. She backs off, surprised, but quickly recovers and squints her eyes at him, crossing her arms as he continues to ramble. 

“After everything that’s happened? Steve ripping off his sweater, jumping out of the boat and beating a bat to death, then biting its head off, all while soaking wet. I mean, the way he spit that blood out.” Nancy cringes, and yeah, Steve feels the same way, knows he'll be tasting that black sludge in his nightmares. 

Now that’s gay panic.

I thought that’s not what that means, Rob

Ugh, I regret teaching you things.

Eddie’s still on a roll. “He was so… I mean,” Eddie throws his arms out towards Steve, showing him off like he’s a prized cow, “look at him, Wheeler! And you’re picking Byers?”

To Steve’s surprise, the glowering ferocity in Nancy’s face morphs into a coy smile, eyebrows raised in question to an answer she’s already figured out. Because that’s how Nancy Wheeler, journalist extraordinaire, gets her story. She reads people.

Before Eddie well and truly freaks out at the turn in Nancy’s demeanor, she winks at Steve out of the corner of her eye. “Joyce Byers?” She giggles and rolls her eyes. 

Then, in a mortifying turn of events, Nancy pulls a strand of her brown, curly hair in front of her face, forces her eyes open, doe-eyed and almost brown under the dark sky, looking up at him through her lashes, then darts her gaze to Eddie. 

Ha! You have a type! Wait, how did Nancy clock you faster than–

“Okay!” It bursts from Steve’s chest, loud enough it shocks the rest of them. They stand quiet, listening to the mundane noises around them, and breathe a sigh of relief at the resounding silence. “This has been fun, really, but why don’t we all just keep going so we can get the hell out of here and go find my– I mean our– no, the little shits.”

This is why they call you mom.

“I’m not a goddamn mom, Robin, how many damn times do I have to tell you guys that?”

“If you’re mommy, does that mean I’m daddy?” The words slip through Eddie’s mouth and, unfortunately, bury themselves into Steve’s brain. Now Steve’s not sure who’s blush is hotter, his or Eddie’s. He’d guess maybe Eddie’s, judging by the way the man grabs Nancy’s arm and hauls her away at a half sprint. 

She laughs at him, lighthearted, and slings her arm through his as they walk side by side. Steve watches as she leans her head towards Eddie’s whispering something into his ear that finally has the man’s shoulder’s relaxing. He bumps his shoulder against hers, and she returns the gesture.

Robin turns to look at Steve, really look, with sad, concerned eyes and a twist to her mouth.

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out like that. It just caught me off guard I guess.

Steve places a light kiss on her dirty forehead. She smiles, grabs his hand in hers, and squeezes once.

“I love you too, Rob.”

[natriae]

10:23pm

"can i tell ya a secret"

"sure" you whispered in response as you snuggled deeper into Atsumu's neck. The two of you had just gotten home from a long day at work and were ready to fall asleep in each other's arms.

"i thought," he started, giggling a bit, "i thought ya had a crush on sunarin for a long time" you felt him shake his head back and forth lightly before continuing, "i was stupid though"

Without seeing his face clearly you could tell he was scrunching his nose remembering how oblivious he was to your love.

"nah he's not my type," you teased as you moved your body completely over his using him as a bed.

"oh yeah, what is your type?" 'tsumu questioned, wanting to see you face flush from embarrassment. His hand reached for your hair petting it to convince you to lean up and look at him in the face. You lifted your arms up and used your forearms to keep you lifted above his head. Subconsciously, his hands wrapped around your waist keeping you stationed over his lean body.

You giggled as you leaned down so your noses touched as told him, "i like boys who are loud and kinda annoying," you watched his face pout at the comment before leaning down and giving a soft kiss on his lips, "and i like boys who are twins, and love to play volleyball," you furthered your reasoning with your hands playing with his hair.

"oh well that doesn't set me apart to much," he prodded. You moved your legs so they rested on each side of his waist and felt the beginning of a boner form in his boxers. You shook your head and kept talking knowing how much this was fulling his ego.

"i like boys who seem come off as gay," you commented, reminding him that you thought he had a thing for Sakusa before you really knew him. You smiled at his reaction before whispering, "i like boys who have really pretty brown eyes that look a little yellow in the sunlight. I like boys who get pouty when someone does something kind for them," immediately thinking of when he started tearing up at the fact that you and osamu worked hard to make him nice lunches for the Olympics.

"i love boys who have big egos even though it gets on my nerves sometimes," you watched his pouty lips turn into a smirk as red flooded his face in pride. You smiled back and grinded lightly into him as you spoke your next words, "i love boys who are such gentlemen, but whisper dirty comments to me when we're supposed to be serious," you couldn't help but let out a big smile thinking about all the times he's ruined professional dinners by accidentally making you blush to hard. You leaned down and left little kisses up his neck to his jaw, "i looovvee boys who have big bushy eyebrows,"

kiss

"boys who have big meaty thighs"

kiss

"boys who always have a big smile on their face just to cheer everyone else up"

kiss

"and i especially love boys who are super protective and possessive,"

"still can't tell if yer describin' me" he teases with his hands interlocked behind his head and his eyes closed.

"oh really," You leaned up, "i like boys who are lowkey perverts, but won't admit to it,"

His body immediately shot up and held you on his lap, "hey! that's not nice," he shouted with his eyebrows drawn together. You laughed at his reaction before holding his face in your hands.

"i love boys who love their family," you said to cool him down leaving a light kiss on his nose.

Reaching down between you body you pulled his hard cock out of his boxers and moved your panties to the side before inserting it.

You left the joking aside and continued your affirmations as you tried to sink further down his cock without being prepped. "i love boys who's name's start with A, and who love dying their hair because it sets them apart"

"i love boys who love animals and will always swerve on the road if it means the animals are safe." you moved further down his cock, but the moment wasn't sexual. He turned the two of you over so you were on your back as he held himself on top of you. It was nothing more then two people in love.

You stared into his eyes and said, "my type is you and only you". The strong man leaned down and left a small kiss on your lips before letting himself relax complete over your body. He was like a big soft weighted blanket. One arm you had wrapped around his back while the other messaged his hair. "'sumu," you whispered into the night air of the master bedroom, but there was no response just quiet snores from the man on top of you. You giggled and continued to message his scalp.

Moments like these were important, moments where Atsumu was recognized for himself. Miya Atsumu a man who loves his mom more than anything, and would drop everything if his brother needed him, not Miya Atsumu MSBY star setter, not Olympic champion Miya Atsumu, not Osamu's twin, or the golden fox, but his own ordinary person. Who was important for just being himself. <3

[animeredhead101]

Dad Hood DP x DC Crossover

Completed

The Devil Wore a T-Shirt by DisillusionedDanny :

After a one-night stand, Danny finds himself pregnant with Red Hood's kid. Now he finds himself as a dad to a small child with an important decision to make. Does he tell Red Hood he has a child? Or does Danny raise the kid by himself? Word Count: 24,778 Completed

Nothing But The Dead And Dying (back in my little town) by Umei_no_Mai :

Dan has just been rescued and is feeling a bit shorter than usual. Jason Todd has just been petitioned like he's a feudal warlord, which has never happened before but he could maybe get used to. They can probably make this work so long as Batman doesn't stick his nose in. Yeah, like that'll happen. Word Count: 123,925 Completed

my boy, my son by DisillusionedDanny :

In desperate need of a vacation, Danny has Clockwork turn him into a five year old so that he can have the childhood he never got. Soon, five year old Danny finds himself running wild in Gotham only to be kidnapped by some weird teenager in a costume who decides that Danny is going to be his son. What's Danny to do but accept this new weird guy as his new dad and become a super cool crime fighting vigilante with his new adopted family who have no clue he's a two thousand year old ghost king? Word Count: 18,210

Dad Hood by JaxinKH :

After a wish gone wrong, Danny has reverted to a child and sent to Gotham. Jason doesn't know how the kid ended up in his appartement, but he is now stuck looking after him. How hard could it be?

Word Count: 18,236

On-going

It's Not Sugar by ConspiracyCrows :

Ellie is destabilized and nearly killed by Vlad while trying to make another, "better", clone of Danny. In order to stabilize her she was de-aged to about 7, and now has chronic issues balancing her ecto the same way a type one diabetic has issues balancing blood sugars. In fact that's the cover story the pair use when Danny enrolls Ellie at Gotham Academy. The one favor he will allow Vlad to do for them. While Vlad seems to have finally come to his senses about Ellie, Danny won't let him anywhere near her ever again. Which is why they moved to Gotham in the first place, Vlad won't step foot there. It also helps that Lady Gotham is more than happy to have the Realms' Ambassador to the Living in her streets. They settle into Crime Alley, and Danny may or may not have forgotten to introduce himself to the Haunt owner, assuming Gotham would handle the niceties as he gets Ellie settled, and handles the pressing issues of the negotiations between the city, the realms, and those denizens of both who want or need one thing or other. Word Count: 23,052 On-going

Imprint by Hashtag_DriveBy :

He screwed his eyes shut, held his breath, desperately wished that he was back in his safehouse, alone and blissfully unaware. But the weight in his hands remained, and when he opened his eyes, it was to the bean-shaped 'fuck you' the Lazarus Pit had kindly bestowed upon him, arms and legs folded up against his front beneath off-white muslin while tiny lips smacked softly.

What the fuck.

What the hell was Jason supposed to do now?

Word Count: 119,791 On-going

If you find a vigilante in the dumpster by lunamugetsu :

The plan was simple, Jazz and her now de aged brother would go lay low in Gotham, act as a mother-son duo. Wait as Danny heals up by absorbing the ambient ectoplasm leaking from the city and Vlad gives the green light that he has a safe place they could stay. Plus with the blessing from the Ghost of Gotham and knowing that even the GIW wouldn't dare to encroach on Batman's territory, it was a pretty safe plan. That was until a certain vigilante just keeps on finding himself in their dumpster. / / It was a normal night of patrol for Jason. Beating up a bunch of criminals. Shooting them with bullets (they're rubber bullets Bruce! Calm down!) Get stabbed by them. Pass out from blood loss in the place he was taking refuge in Wake up in an apartment, his wounds bandaged and all. And to a black haired blue eyed kid staring at him. "I found you in the garbage!" Word Count: 120,002 On-going

Please Don't Take My Sunshine Away by FearlessHades :

After escaping from the GIW, Danny crash lands in Gotham. He's six years old, his entire life has burned behind him, and one of the Gotham vigilantes is running around with a stifled Core. What's a kid to do?

A Jason Adopts Danny fic featuring De-aged!Danny, family feels, and Jason's Grand Master Plan going completely off the rails.

Word Count: 53,233

The (Un)Living Weapon by Anonymous :

They had only planned on raiding the facility. They hadn't expected it to be barren. Apart from a kid, chained and muzzled. With eyes of Lazarus water. Jason didn't intend on getting a kid out of the whole ordeal, but unlike Bruce, he is ready to kill to keep him safe. Word Count: 47,483

Mending a Family by Katelover98 :

Sequel to Creating a Family.

I decided to write this after getting such a good response on that fic. However, I wrote this new fic here instead of updating it in case anyone liked the open ending and didn't want more to spoil the way I left it. There won't be an overarching plot but a bunch of one-shots that show how Jason went from no family to a family that would kill and die for him.

This fic won't have a set schedule so I'll update when inspiration hits. That means one week I might update daily and other times it might take a while. It'll depend

Fair warning, I don't know much about Roy Harper, but I've done a bit of research so when he shows up, hopefully, he'll be well-written.

Word Count: 45,852

Visitant Lights by Shynnohwen for Cielle_Noire, AcesAndSpades72, foldingfacets :

After a run in with Vlad that left the entire Fenton family turned into little children and a subsequential kidnapping by what they think are ninjas the Fenton family escape to Gotham to lay low and figure out how to reverse their ages as Sam and Tucker help where they can, growing sense of dread as months goes by and they are no closer to fixing this. Danny, frustrated at lack of progress and tiny body, runs into the Red Hood while stealing his wheel to replace the one he broke. This results in Jason and the Pit Madness co-parenting, Dick mistaken for a stripper, Tucker unknowingly becoming Oracle's archnemesis, Sam believing the local coffee addict is a serial killer, Damian taking on an apprentice, various members of the Rogue Gallery becoming self-appointed uncles and aunts, Amity Park becoming a hellhole full of supernaturally powerful people trying to survive, Damian trying to get a certain Fenton adopted into his family, and Joker developing severe and crippling phasmophobia. And that's just the tip of the iceberg. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Now has a TV Tropes! https://tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Fanfic/VisitantLights Word Count : 82,890

[loganwritesprobably]

Planning a Future With You

This didn't do very well on the poll I posted a while back but this is my blog and I do what I want. Also introducing Niji for the first time on this blog

Content/Warnings: Crocodile, Niji and Law headcanons, GN!Reader, talk of marriage and children (both positive and negative), both canon-compliant and "de-programmed" Niji mentioned

Crocodile has always been a future plans kind of guy

He likes to plan ahead, and know what his next steps are, at all times

When you begin to date, he doesn't factor you in initially, assuming your relationship won't last more than six months

And then it does

He begins to factor you into his plans slowly, over time, until eventually you're irreversibly woven into everything

He tells you none of this of course

But in his mind, his future would be wrong without you

He wants to marry you, eventually, with a grand ceremony, all of the bells and whistles included

Nothing but the best for you

Neither of you have actually asked the other about these sorts of things, but it will happen when you're both ready

Already, Crocodile knows what sort of ring he wants to propose with, and how he wants to propose

Crocodile hasn't thought of children

He had a rough childhood, and he's not the most pleasant man and he knows it

It's hard to raise a child, and whether he's cut out for that is pretty up in the air

He'd consider it, if that was something you wanted

Maybe you could adopt an older child, he thinks that would be more his speed if anything

Niji thinks marriage is a given between you

He's a prince, getting married is a non-negotiable, and he likes you more than most. You're not as irritating as a lot of people he'd considered pursuing in the past

And someone has to continue the Germa bloodline, who better than him?

If you were to date a de-programmed Niji though, things would be different

Kids, for him, would be an absolute no

Even with how much his personality has changed, he still finds kids super grating and he couldn't raise a "snot nosed brat"

If you disagreed on this, it'd be a pretty big issue, it isn't a topic up for discussion

Double income no kids lifestyle for Niji

He's not super sold on weddings either, but that's something he's more willing to discuss

Niji wouldn't want something incredibly extravagant, rather he'd prefer a more intimate ceremony

He doesn't actually want to be a perfect Prince of Germa and having a large elaborate wedding would remind him of that

A smaller ceremony, with his siblings, your family if you want them there, and all your friends is more suited to him

Though he'd absolutely brag about being married to you after the fact if you did get married

Because you're the best thing that's ever happened to him

For Law, pretty much everything is up for discussion

He's far more hesitant about kids than marriage

He's still not convinced the two of you are in it for the long haul - how could you want to be with him for that long?

If you were to get married, he'd absolutely leave all the planning and decisions to you. Tell him when you need him to have an opinion, and when to be there

He'd still get a little teary at the sight of you in your getup, no matter how neutral he is on the entire thing

For him, kids is hard

He had good parents as a young boy, and the thought of providing that is nice, warms his little cold heart

But he's also intimately familiar with how cruel the world can be, and he isn't sure he likes the thought of bringing a child into it

But some children are already in that world, and alone

All that to say, he's unsure, and very unfecided

For him, it would heavily depend on what you wanted, and there would be a lot of lengthy discussions to be had on the topic

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots

[whalesforhands]

Did you u know twins can have different biological fathers?

The specific ask about, if reader was gonna have bio kids got me thinking, what if twins but different fathers?

And then fact checked, and apparently it's very rare, but possible!!!

my theory on this matter is that you have to make love, instead of a quick nut for something like this to happen.

Sorry for ranting, it's 4 in the morning in my side of the world, and all i can think is about Satosugu, ahhhh i need sleep!!!!

GAHAHAH THAT’S SO CUTE

masterlist

gojo satoru & geto suguru getting more kids, and the fact that they’re having another set of twins has the nanamimi duo absolutely losing it, jumping around and squealing

the girls are absolutely defending you fiercely during the time you’re starting to show, shooing off gojo for even breathing too hard near you, gripping onto geto’s shirt and stretching the fabric whilst trying to drag him off of you when he goes in for a hug, holding your hands to walk you to the bedroom, running to tsumiki when you mention a small food craving and trying to figure out how to make it via the internet when their fathers aren’t home yet, because “we’re older and can totally help out!”

megumi is the most intrigued, never having had a sibling younger than him before. so he’s the one putting his head against your tummy the most to really listen to the lives growing inside you, looking up at you with wide eyes every time he hears a kick

since he and the twins are the same age, it’s often wondered if they were triplets everytime the family ate out.

(nanamimi have crowned him an honorary triplet. tsumiki approves. gives more of a reason for him to join them on their tea parties.)

satosugu refuse to let you out the house. initially it was already super hard to leave in the first place for the most menial of chores like getting more lightbulbs or more milk without their chaperoning. now it’s close to impossible even if you just want to get ice cream at the convenience store with tsumiki.

no. don’t go outside. there’s bad air, germs on every surface, curses at every lurking corner. please sit down, look pretty, give them a kiss and what you’re craving will be in your hands in an instant.

you look gorgeous pregnant. period.

now imagine when they pop out of you, only for them to look like actual carbon copies of their fathers, much to everyone’s shock. like, i’m not even kidding.

maybe there’s a small hint of your features in the curve of the nose, the shape of the earlobes… but overall the twins look exactly like their paternal counterparts, down to the exact same personalities and little traits

and that means their clinginess to you. the men already have it bad enough that the 4 kids are constantly hanging around and off of you, following you around the home like hatchlings to a mother duck, now the two extra little copycats are taking every bit of your spare, leftover attention meant for them

crying in the middle of the night and not settling down when either of the men are the ones hushing and cradling them, smacking their chins whenever they try to bottlefeed, crying even more if it’s not your face being the first one they see in the morning…

why are you so adorably popular?

they don’t regret having kids with you, but they do realise how fortunate they were to be able to skip the infant stage with the first 4

KOFI twins extra

masterlist

[acewithapaintbrush]

A gift for @emthimofnight who's Sonadow fankid Stellar has stolen my heart. Inspired by this comic and my firm believe that Sonic is a little shit who would definitely hold something like that over Shadows head forever

🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔🦔

“Should I… leave?”

Stellar jerks her head around and stops rummaging through the cupboards. She doubts she'll find the shoes she is looking for anyway. They had grown a bit tight the last time she'd worn them and her Papa had given her a suspicious side eye when she'd still refused to get rid of them. 

He hates clutter. Says her Dad is messy enough for all three of them. 

And anyway! The shoes are pretty much immediately forgotten the moment her friend's words reach Stellar’s ears. 

“Why?” she asks. “I thought we'd spent the day together?”

Camellia only spares her a quick glance before she looks away again. She is wringing her hands the way she does when she is nervous about something. Stellar wonders what could have caused that and follows her gaze. She tilts her head with a frown. All she can see are her parents being… well. Her parents. 

“I mean,” Cam gestures helplessly at the other couple, keeping her voice low. “This is obviously a bad time.”

Stellar joins her side and keeps looking between her friend and her parents. She has no clue what has gotten into Cam. 

Across the room her Dad crosses his arms behind his head and taps one foot up and down. His grin is playful, much like Stellar’s own when she is in the mood to tease but his voice has an edge to it. 

“You know I'm right, Shads! Just admit it!”

Her Papa scoffs and crosses his arms in front of his chest, a perfect imperfect mirror of his partner. Sometimes Stellar marvels at the fact that two hedgehogs can be so similar and so different at the same time. 

“You? Being right? Haven't seen any pigs fly lately.”

“Oh. That comeback was almost witty. Have you been practicing?”

Ah. They are arguing. Again. Or maybe still? She vaguely remembers a friendly conversation over breakfast about an old mission or something slowly turning into a heated debate about who took down more Badniks. Are they still on about that? 

She sighs. Seems like it's going to be one of those days, huh? Stellar ignores her parents and smirks at her flustered friend. She is so uptight sometimes. Kinda cute. 

“They are just squabbling. Don't tell me your parents never do that.”

Cam blinks, surprised, before she sniffs a little, nose in the air and all. “My parents never argue. Certainly not in front of guests.”

“Yeah, sure. The hedgehog with the giant hammer and temper issues and the literal cat with fire powers never argue.” Before Camellia can swipe at her arm Stellar continues “And anyway, you are not a guest, you are practically family.”

Her friend's face is suddenly as red as a tomato and she turns away to delicately cough into her hand. Stellar raises an eyebrow. Cam is acting super weird today. 

Her parents have kept arguing meanwhile. It's pretty much just white noise to their daughter after all these years. Stellar tunes back in just in time to hear Papa insult Dad’s memory which has obviously suffered from too many hits during fights. 

And Stellar knows that glint that enters her Dad's eyes, the way his smirk grows deceptively soft. She can do nothing but groan and slap a hand against her forehead as the blue hedgehog sighs and saunters over to the mantelpiece. She has seen this song and dance one too many times to think she can stop what's coming next. 

He picks up one of her baby pictures and presses it against his chest. “Maybe you are right. Maybe my memory isn't as good as it used to be.”

Stellar is as always reluctantly impressed with the way her Dad is able to put so much emotion into utter bullshit. He sounds like he is on the verge of crying and Stella can hear Cam gasp softly in dismay.

Maybe they should have left after all. 

“The memories begin to fade,” he laments and are those tears in the corners of his eyes? Ugh. “But you know what memory will never fade? My most precious one?”

Papa grits his teeth. She thinks it might take all his strength to not jump across the room and do something he might (a very slight might) regret. 

“How Stellar called me Dada first.”

It's a favorite story of his and he pulls it out every time Papa annoys him or he feels like he is losing an argument. 

And her Papa is smart and strong and level headed and cool. But he is also super bad at hiding how much that ‘betrayal’ still eats at him. 

“You are never letting this go, are you? You are pathetic!”

“Pot meet kettle. And why should I? One of her precious first milestones and it was all for moi!”

“I taught her how to walk.”

“And I taught her how to ride a bicycle, which is even more difficult.”

“I taught her how to swim, something you actually need for survival.”

“Oh yeah, if you call throwing her into the deep end and telling her ‘to figure it out’ teaching.”

“That's not how it happened!” Papa turns to Stellar proving once and for all that both are aware of their audience and don't care. They probably enjoy embarrassing her in front of her friend, the sadists. “That didn't happen!” 

She rolls her eyes. “I know, Papa.”

“Oh right!” Dad cuts in, outraged. “That was me! Your beloved husband!” 

“We are not married.”

“For good reason!”

Stellar does her best to ignore the two of them. Camellia still looks bewildered but there is a reluctant smile blossoming on her face, as if she can't help but be amused despite the awkwardness. 

“Now I know where you get it from.”

Stellar gasps and clutches her chest. “How dare you!” She pauses and her pretend outrage turns a bit more genuine. “Wait! What do you mean? Get what?”

Cam has the audacity to snicker at her and it is not a beautiful sound to Stellar’s ears, nope, not at all! “Oh. You know.”

She doesn't. She totally doesn't. 

She is about to demand some answers when the expression on Cam’s face stops her cold. She turns back to her parents and… oh no. 

Why is she even surprised anymore?

Papa has crossed the distance and has the back of Dad's neck in a tight grip. He is growling and flashing his teeth. 

“I think it's time for you to shut your mouth.”

Dad just leers and leans closer, pressing his chest against the other hedgehog, tangling his hand in black and red quills. 

“Why don't you make me?”

Stellar grabs Camellia’s hand and pulls her out of the room as fast as she can. 

“Oh-Kay. That's our cue to go. Go go go! Don't look back!”

“Wait what? Why? Shouldn't we stop them? What if they hurt-?”

“Nope! You do not want to get between them right now.” She shudders and quickens her steps. “Trust me!”

There is the sound of a muffled crash behind her, like two bodies falling to the floor, her Papa saying something triumphant, her Dad laughing. 

Stellar loves her parents. But God! They can be so embarrassing!

**********

They are the worst, I love them! This was supposed to be really short and grew into this... Hope you like it❤️

[undercovercameron]

a domesticated rafe cameron

summary: a bf headcanon for sir rafe m.f. cameron

notes: *NSFW NEAR THE END* i have been seeing so many headcanons for rafe as a bf recently and i used to do these all the time for other fandoms and people and holy fuck i miss and love them.. allow me to indulge myself. also a lot of these are not simply him being touchy or super cute positive ones bc he’s canonically a murderer and drug addict and felon sooo akdjdjd we all of course romanticize him but i just thought i’d say that. lemme know what you think !

tags: rafe cameron x reader

i think rafe is a very complicated kind of lover

he’s a complex ass dude as it is, so that obviously reflects in your relationships

your relationship probably started unconventionally, either because of a fuck up or drunken mistake or maybe even meeting him randomly on a golf course or on the beach and just immediately being drawn to each other

he wants someone that challenges him a Little bit but really just wants someone to go with the flow and let him take the lead

he already gets enough direction and bossy shit from his family

(probably a couple arguments have sparked because of that; he sees too much of rose or ward in you. it’s also something that draws him to you, though, so take it with a grain of salt)

on the topic of arguments, you two are no stranger to them

he always ends up apologizing though, even if you started it—he’d just much rather have your mouth on his than have it yelling at him and knows there’s always a way to get you back on his side

he’s a proud man, so his apologies are usually in the form of him complimenting you or giving entirely hypothetical situations in which he Possibly Might Be Sorry

you take it because it’s probably the best you’re gonna get

he shows his love and affection in a little different ways that other people you’ve dated

of course he’s no stranger to PDA

in fact it only puffs his chest that you want to be seen with him and touch him

he’ll never admit it, but he loves when you kiss his face

like duh,

but not just his lips, he really likes when you kiss him on the temple or just press your face to his cheek or peck at his jaw

he also likes when you hold onto his belt when getting his attention or trying to move him

a lot of your dates involve watching a movie or TV show, because truth be told he is a home body

maybe not his home, but def a home body

your house is a reminder that he is apart of your life; he sees the pictures, the movie tickets, his favorite chips (salt and vinegar, ew i know), or spares of toothbrushes and his clothes in your closet

in any social situation he is either looking at you, thinking of looking at you, touching you, or asking people where you are

he cannot stand to make small talk without his emotional support girlfriend at his side

you’re just so much funnier than all these other people

he prides himself on his ability to make you blush, and does it any chance he gets

he doesn’t really get to laugh a lot, as he is either in distress or about to get punched or reprimanded, so you’re always whispering some joke into his ear to get him to laugh. your success rate is much better than anyone else’s in his life

he knew he loved you when you grabbed his hand during a dinner you were at and some politician walked in with a very apparent and badly concealed nose job. you just mouth “oh my god” and he had to snort to cover up his laugh

you were also all dolled up and cute and sexy that night so that may have had something to do with him knowing he loved you

he is also a great communicator

it’s not in his nature to hide his feelings because they’re so fucking obvious on that expressive face of his

and he never knew he could have so much fun texting until you came along

now he’s a regular emoticon user

weird, right?

now onto spicy things,

you’ve never known a partner to ask you how you feel more than Rafe

it’s a praise thing, you think

he wants to hear that he feels good, that right there, that he fucks you so good, that he’s perfect for you

the nonverbal sign that all those are true is when you throw your head back and a gasp is caught in your throat

the very idea that your breath is stolen every time he does something good makes his heart skip a beat

his cheeks get very red while you’re having sex, so your cool fingers are usually petting them or pressed near them

you have a thing for his legs

i mean come on

he just walks around like that all day

he walks around with a dick like that in his pants all day, and you’re supposed to just ignore it?!

absolutely not

you especially like when he wears those hoochie daddy 5 inch inseam swim trunks, because you get to see where his skin gets a little paler and softer and it makes you get goosebumps at the thought of where it leads

those trunks are a treat usually, saved for a special occasion where he doesn’t have to be around his family and he can have you in his lap, hand trapped between your legs

let’s just say you two fuck like rabbits

two beautiful young adults, what else occupies your time?

it gets a little annoying for other people when you’re apart of their dinner party, because you’re always late, but then learn to just deal with it

it’s better to not have a sexually frustrated rafe cameron that accidentally stabs through his plate of rice and vegetables like that one time at the island club with your parents when you licked up a drop of lemon sauce from your chin and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head

decidedly not a great time or place to act like that

anyways,

i just think while yours’ and rafe’s relationship def has its ups and downs like all other relationships, your recovery period after an argument is remarkably high

you both know you’re not mad anymore, so it’s not worth it to be bad communicators and make it worse

at the end of the day, there’s always space for you in his bed, and he always welcomes you with a slap on the ass and a whisper of “we’re totally fucking in the shower tomorrow”

(and yes. you do)

notes: i hope this doesn’t seem to scatterbrained, i may or may not end up adjusting or editing this later to be closer to what i think would be him

[little-diable]

One day you're gone – Tommy Shelby

Let's just ignore the fact that songs are my biggest inspiration, ok? Alright. Inspired by "one day you're gone" by "gavn!". I know this is super angsty, but I think it's a beautiful fic, so please give it a chance. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: She died years ago, and yet he still dreams of her, forced to relive their moments together every single night

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, loss of his wife (sorry for killing us off), this is sad, like really

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.3k words)

One day you're here and one day you're gone, you beat to the drum but you keep movin' on, ain't nobody knows when the next name's called, ‘cause one day you're here and one day you're gone

He dreamt of her, hands trembling from feeling his fingers interlaced with hers just moments before waking, heart racing from clinging to her like a blanket made to protect his shuddering body, lips tingling from kissing her breathless, at least in his dream. 

Those were the nights where Tommy woke with a cry, unable to wipe away the tears clinging to his cheeks as he choked on his gasps. Ever since he had been a little boy, he had been forced to let go of people, a dull pain Tommy had slowly adapted to. Until (y/n) had been ripped from his side, leaving him and the life they had begun to build together. 

He dreamt of her nightly, of their moments together, from childhood memories, to their wedding day. He saw it all so clearly as if he was watching recordings, though not in black and white and without sound, but full of colour. A bright splash of life like she had been, the light in his darkness, the colour in his grey life, the guiding hand that was now one with the soil he still felt clinging to his fingers. 

“Today we mourn the loss of our (y/n), daughter, friend, wife.” Tears blurred Tommy’s vision as he stood near the coffin, hands interlaced in front of himself to try and stop his hands from trembling. He, Arthur, some of their friend’s and (y/n)’s father had carried the coffin up to the grave, unable to speak as the weight of their sadness weighed them down. 

“Thomas.” The bucket filled with soil was reached out for him to take, forcing his eyes to find the dark ones of their pastor. With a shaky exhale leaving him, he let his fingers disappear in the cold soil, taking just enough to throw it down onto her coffin, covering a small part of the dark wood. 

“How could you do this to me?” His voice carried exhaustion, speaking to those who were listening, the holy Father promising to protect those finding his way to him, people like (y/n) who had been ripped from this life too early. 

Tommy rose to his feet as his fingers found a cigarette, alighting it before making his way out his empty bedroom. One of the places that held too many memories. One of the places he couldn’t part from just yet because his nose could still pick up on the scent of her perfume, because his eyes could still see her soft frame lying next to him, even though it had been years. 

“Oh, Tommy.” She had her back arched off the mattress, legs wrapped around his middle. The two had gotten married hours ago, saying yes to one another in the company of their families and friends, finally reunited after the war. Tears had been shed that day, tears that were falling now once again, though these tears were urged on by desperation, by love, by lust. 

His hips met hers with every thrust, drawing moans from (y/n) as his cock nudged her sweet spot. Tommy couldn’t rip his eyes from her features, the beautiful face he had thought of in France, clinging to his memories as if they were the oxygen he needed to survive. 

“My beautiful wife,” his words left (y/n) moaning, walls fluttering around his cock. The scent of her perfume wrapped itself around Tommy, luring him even further into the grasp she had on his body and soul, a promise made to last for eternity, a promise broken in only a few months time. 

“I love you, Thomas, I always will.” 

Rain was pouring from the sky, as if nature was sharing Tommy’s pain, missing the one who had spent most of her time in their garden, the one who had talked to the flowers as if they were her friends, the one who had watched birds pick up the seeds she had left for them as if they were pilgrims sharing her path. A kind hearted soul who had paid the price for a life Tommy hadn’t been able to protect her from. 

Tommy didn’t know how to make it through life without (y/n) by his side, he hadn’t lived a single day without her being part of his closest circle, glued together from birth, brought together by their mothers who had been friends for years. Ever since their first days together, Tommy had loved her, first as a friend, then as a lover, then as a husband, and now as a widower. 

“Can I kiss you?” Tommy’s voice filled the evening, forcing her wide eyes towards his bright ones. 

“What?” Nervous chuckles bubbled out of the young girl. She struggled to hold eye contact with Tommy, shifting her weight from one leg to the other, unable to rip herself away from the boy. It was Tommy’s fourteenth birthday, celebrating his day with (y/n) glued to his side, chasing him through the streets both knew like the back of their hands. 

“It’s my birthday wish.” Heat flushed through her as Tommy carefully cupped her cheek. She knew that he had kissed other girls before, locking lips with those she envied, but not once had she been kissed, waiting for Tommy to finally give in. 

“Do it.” His lips were on hers in an instant, drawing a surprised gasp from (y/n). It was a clumsy kiss both had to adjust to, but once her nerves finally let go of her, allowing the young girl to get used to the new sensation, she found herself enjoying the new feeling. 

With a sigh rumbling through Tommy, he plopped down on the stairs leading up to their house, stairs she had walked with naked feet whenever she had finished her garden work. The garden had withered away with her passing as Tommy hadn’t found the strength to step foot on the grass she had cared for. 

Whatever it was that now spurred him on, it forced Tommy back to his feet. The cigarette was long forgotten as he stepped foot on the wet grass, his shirt and underwear instantly soaked through by the pouring rain. He had his bright eyes focused on the weathered flowers, coming to a halt in front of one of many flowerbeds. 

His hands started working, reaching for the dead flowers to rip them from the lifeless soil. And for the first time in years, he felt connected to (y/n), clinging to what she had once planted. Tears once again ran down Tommy’s cheeks as he kept working, only halting his movements as his glassy eyes found the rising sun painting the sky orange and pink. 

“I’m sorry it took me this long, love.” The words were whispered, eyes unable to leave the sky as he made plans to revitalise their garden. He’d never be able to bring her back, but at least he could keep the memory of his loving wife alive. 

Broken bones, you live and learn, ‘cause we don't know that a good thing ends, but someday I hope that it'll all make sense, one day you're here and one day you're gone

[dream-with-a-fever]

but i’m a fire and i’ll keep your brittle heart warm (snippet)

by dream-with-a-fever (me) / societysgot (ao3)

harry/ginny, oneshot, canon compliant, missing moments during OotP

“So, I take it that cave in the mountains outside Hogsmeade wouldn’t work as a meeting place with Sirius?” She said, bringing them back to their conversation in the library.

Harry shook his head. “Definitely not — how did you know about that?”

“I’m really into mountain hiking,” She replied, without missing a beat.

Harry gave her a quizzical look before her face broke out into a smile, and she laughed.

“I’m joking - I've never done it,” She said, with a snort, “Hermione mentioned doing it with her family once — no, Sirius told me about it over the summer, back at Grimmauld place.”

“You and Sirius talked?”

For some reason he hadn’t even considered the fact that the Weasleys had been staying there for several weeks before Harry’s arrival. Jealousy bubbled in him momentarily, at the thought of them all spending their summer together, while he was stuck in privet drive. They had probably shared meals, swapped stories, made jokes. He vaguely remembered the youngest Weasley holding court up one end of the table on a particular evening, chatting animatedly with Remus, Tonks and Sirius. She had almost seemed like one of the crew. He just hadn't given it much thought until now.

She gave him a quizzical look, and he realised he must’ve been silent for a beat too long.

“Yeah, is that… alright with you?”

He forced out a laugh. “Yeah- erm, of course. I just didn’t think — I don’t know.”

“Well, he’s cool. Got a great muggle music collection. You’d probably know some of ‘em? There’s one band — super good called The Beatle and—”

“The Beatles.”

“What?”

Harry suppressed a smile. “Never mind.”

“They're really good. But, he mainly talks about you, you know,” She said, after a beat, “Raves about you actually.”

Harry sighed, like this was a real inconvenience.

"Oh, I am sorry," said Harry, fighting back a grin.

"I told him, I said Sirius, I haven't got all day - but the man's relentless. Wanted to know everything."

“That must’ve been terribly boring.”

“Very," She hummed, noncommittally. "You know, Harry Potter — famously boring.”

“Glad you agree.”

“Well, we can’t have everyone inflating your ego now, can we?”

Harry spluttered for a moment, before she continued.

“Not that a bit more arrogance on your part would be bad. You could be a lot worse. Look at Percy.”

“Thanks, Ginny.”

“Very welcome,” She said, breezily before clapping her hands together, “Anyway — if the cave isn’t an option, and all the fires are being guarded…”

“Well…not all of them,” Harry said, a look of realisation crossing his face.

When he looked up she was grinning widely at him, eyebrows raised. It was then that he looked around, and realised they were outside the Gryffindor common room — the trek from the library was like muscle memory to him now, and still their arrival had come as a shock to him.

The fat lady was chatting animatedly with her friend Violet from another portrait when they approached; both shrieking with laughter like a couple of hyenas, passing a bottle back and forth of some kind of mead that most certainly was not from the fat lady’s portrait. They were completely obvious to the two students stood outside.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your study session,” Ginny suddenly said, scrunching up her nose, looking rather guilty, “I know you need all the time you can get, you know, with the OWLs coming up so soon.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Have a lot of faith in my academic ability then, do you?”

She choked out a laugh, whipping her auburn hair out of her eyes. “Not what I meant and you know it. Though if you hanging around Ron every minute of every day is any indication of your intelligence…”

“Pretty sure you spend more time with him than me,” Harry replied, looking aghast.

“Yeah — because he’s my brother - I'm stuck with him, aren't I? But you voluntarily spend every waking moment with him. I mean, think of all the brain cells you must have lost already…”

“See, that’s—”

“But there’s still time to save yourself from ruin, I reckon. Just gotta get back to the books.”

“Well, that’ll be hard, seeing as you got me banned from going back into the library ever again…”

She elbowed him hard in the side, and Harry looked up, surprised at the contact. But Ginny seemed unfazed - like this was nothing out of the ordinary.

“I think I’ll take that chocolate egg back then,” She demanded, flicking a curtain of red hair behind her.

Harry scoffed. “Pretty sure you already ate most of it—”

And that earned him his second jab in the ribs. He glanced down at his feet, suppressing a grin.

Their slight cofuffle had caught the attention of the fat lady who now, having finally noticed their presence, began to complain at their frankly insulting dawdling (‘I don’t have all day, you two!’)

They parted ways in the common room; Crookshanks trotting over to the youngest Weasley the second she had stepped through the door; Harry making his way up to the boys’ dormitories.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

(Unbeknownst to Harry, it was the best sleep he had had in weeks.)

[aealzx]

Letting the drape over the infirmary entrance drop closed to muffle some of the external noises, Don made his way to the kitchen to finally oblige Mikey’s demand to feed everyone. It was normal to have a commotion coming from the room, so he wasn’t surprised at the noise of boisterous chatter filtering out from the entrance. Especially since it looked like Casey and Mom April were there early, already seated at the table and asking questions.

“Actually, the Donnie is the feisty one.”

Don reached the kitchen entrance as Raphael responded to Casey’s comment, Raphael’s voice saturated with amusement at the fact. Don hadn’t caught what Casey said before, but it was easy to hear him now.

“What? You gotta be kidding. Don is the hot head in their family?” Casey gawked, looking over at Don in disbelief.

“Not a hot head, just aggressive. Kid totally bit through someone’s arm and broke the bone. It was awesome, if not for the fact it was some scientist treating him like a lab experiment,” Raphael corrected, folding his arms. If it weren’t for the situation Donnie and Lil Mikey had been in many of their feats would have been subject of quite the boastful conversation.

“You’re kidding!” Casey gawked again.

“Not even. We saw it on camera. He was completely restrained and then just chomped down on some lady’s arm and didn’t let go even though she punched him in the nose. It was impressive,” Mikey chimed in, semi miming some of the actions. “They’re both crazy strong. AND the Leo. He showed up a little while ago, and get this, the kid can teleport.”

“Okay I don’t believe that. They’re not superheroes Mikey,” Casey retorted, wrinkling his nose a little. Teleporting mutant turtles? That sounded like something that would be from the Justice Force, not the sewers of another world.

“‘Course they aren’t. Lil me said they’re actually super soldiers. Like Cap’n America and Winter Soldier. Sick, right? The lil guy can totally fling those giant mechas around like they’re baseballs,” Mikey countered, hopping up to lean across the table with a huge grin.

“Are they alright?” Mom April asked yet again as Casey took Mikey’s taunting bait and jumped up to tackle him. She was looking up from where she was helping Junior with some mash Mikey always had on hand these days, and seemed more concerned about the visiting groups’ health than their abilities.

Giving a bit of a sigh that was a mix between amused and exasperated, Raphael looked over to Don, gesturing a hand at him to answer. Maybe if the doctor of the house answered she would finally be reassured that the kids were going to be fine. “They’re alright,” Don assured confidently. “They’re all sleeping now, I don’t think they got much lately. But their wounds have been taken care of, and they seem comfortable. All four of them are here, and they even have their version of you with them too.”

“Me?” Mom April sputtered slightly, having not thought about the possibility. She was definitely more assured of their state now that Don gave her an answer along with the others, making room as he took a seat on the other side of Junior as her.

“Yeah, she’s nothing like you either,” Raphael laughed, rocking back on two chair legs after Leo chased Mikey and Casey out of the kitchen before they broke something.. “She’s a spunky lil gal. Fresh out of highschool it seems, and could probably crack my skull if she wanted to. I almost thought she was an alternate Angel instead.”

“It seems to run in the group. They’re all a lot more… brazen than I would expect. They don’t seem to have much discipline,” Leo commented, noting that many of the comments so far about their guests had been about how rambunctious they were.

“What makes you say that?” Mom April asked. She knew Leo had always been the one of the brothers that was more strict about discipline, following Master Splinter’s teachings the closest. But over the years he’d become less prone to associate an abundance of energy with lack of discipline.

“We fought their Leo a bit when he first came here – there was a misunderstanding that got cleared up – but his movements aren’t refined. It’s almost as though he was self taught,” Leo pointed out, having to quickly reassure Mom April that there hadn’t been too bad of a skirmish.

“You noticed it too, huh,” Don voiced his agreement. “We all had Master Splinter training us since we were kids, but Leon seems to only recently be getting some sort of structured tutelage for his martial arts.”

“He fights like he learned from watching movies,” Raphael huffed, amused at the thought. “It’s surprising he’s figured out how to make it work.”

“He does seem to learn fast though. I wonder what he would have done if you had actually shoved him off,” Don added, his mind wandering off to consider the possibilities.

“You let him catch you?” Leo’s incredulous voice snapped as he rounded on Raphael, a scolding lecture quickly rising.

“Duh,” Raphael snorted, narrowing his eyes at Leo and leaning away from him. “The kid’s a toothpick. You really think he could keep me pinned like that?”

The retort only served to rile Leo up more though, and he smacked his hands on the table to lean over Raph. “Oh, that’s great. So what was your plan if he actually slit your throa-”

The words were interrupted by a piece of chicken from Mikey’s stew smacking him in the side of the head. As both Raphael and Leo blinked in surprise they broke off their conversation to look towards the source of the launched food only to see Don giving them a pointed stare. He didn’t have to say anything. They’d had this lecture from him many times before. Walking them through their word choice barrier that only caused fights instead of helped. It caused Leo to shrink down in his usual embarrassed retreat as he forced himself to reanalyze his distress and word it in a way that Raphael would understand better.

“.............. You scared me,” Leo finally muttered, keeping his gaze elsewhere. “I thought…. I didn’t want to see you gushing blood from your neck.”

Oh. So that’s what it was. Like always Raphael didn’t see how the previous lecture connected to what Leo admitted, but he still understood by now that this was just the way Leo reacted. Blinking as the dots connected in his own brain, it was Raphael’s turn to shrink in mild sheepishness as he fully realized what could have happened. Sure, Don could have taken care of the injury if it had happened. But was it worth the mental and emotional distress he would have caused the others? “...My b-.... Sorry,” he responded, equally muttering and switching for words he knew Leo took to heart better. “I guess I was just more focused on getting the kid to stop moving and calm down.”

It made sense, and Leo let out a sigh as the tension from that fight finally eased away into his normal pool of anxiety over possibilities and not actualities. Letting himself droop forward a bit, Leo awkwardly knocked his forehead against Raphael’s shoulder to let him know he accepted the apology and reasoning. As Raphael raised a hand to roughly pat the back of Leo’s head, Don exchanged a soft chuckle with Mom April over the interaction while Master Splinter hid a smile with his teacup. With the bubbling argument abated, Don pulled them back to thoughts that had returned to his mind after one of Raphael’s comments

“Speaking of getting Leon calmed down,” Don spoke up, grabbing their attention. “I think Leon suffers from traumatic flashbacks.”

The sudden shift into a more sensitive topic caused the others in the room to still, and Leo quietly pulled a seat over to settle in. Raphael shifted uneasily, making an uncertain connection that he had to clarify. “...Like the waking dreams Leo sometimes had after Shredder’s men put him in a coma?” he asked, feeling a little bad for mentioning it when Leo fidgeted.

“Yes, but I think they’re worse,” Don answered, forgetting his half eaten meal in front of him for now as he started to explain his reasoning. “When he was attacking us it was calculated at first, but I noticed at some point something happened and he got… frantic. His attacks had more force behind them and were less structured. Almost like a panicked fight response to keep from freezing up. I thought it was weird at the time, but it wasn’t until he was with Lil Mikey that I had the thought he may have had a flashback. It was quiet, but I heard Lil Mikey asked Leon ‘are you here?’ And when I mentioned everyone’s concern about a secondary mutation I noticed he was using a grounding technique while April answered. Pressing his fingers into his arm to distract himself.”

The revelation caused an uncomfortable silence to fall over the room. But Don remained quiet as well to give them time with their thoughts. There was no rush anyway, they had time. 

“....... So… what? We can’t exactly ship him off to the Ancient One like we did with Leo,” Raphael was the first to speak up, having already run through his own thoughts and not finding an answer to why Don was bringing this all up.

Don had to give a bittersweet chuckle at the thought, and shook his head. “Nothing serious. I just wanted you guys to be aware of it. I know we don’t know them very well, so it’ll be a little hard to tell if he’s not acting like himself. But, if he suddenly gets violent again for no apparent reason I just want you to realize he probably doesn’t recognize it’s you.”

“.... Fair enough,” Leo agreed, still trying to figure out how he felt about the whole topic. He didn’t think the same ‘fix’ for his own issues would work with Leon. But he also didn’t think it was appropriate for them to ask why he was having flashbacks either. There was a question that bubbled up in his mind that he ended up asking though. “...Are any of the others affected as well?”

Don seemed mildly surprised at the question, and had to pause when Raphael voiced his own thoughts that had sprung up with the question. “Mikey said the scars on Donnie’s back were also from their version of Shredder. You don’t think it was caused by the same dude, do ya?”

It was an unexpected fact to hear, but Don just switched his surprised expression for a soft smile. “Not unless Shredder has been harassing them until just recently,” he admitted. “The scars on Donnie’s back are a few years old already. But the ones on the other three; the scars on Leon’s legs, the crack in Leon’s shell, the piece missing from Raph’s shell, his scarred eye, and the… rather odd burn scars on Lil Mikey’s arms are all only a few months old. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were from the same event… And I also wouldn’t be surprised if the others were similarly affected in their mentality. We’re already seen how protective they are of each other.”

Hearing that the scars the teens had were almost all fairly recent gave Raphael a bitter taste in his mouth. While one part of his mind argued that they had seen similar injuries when they were teens, the other part of his mind argued that it didn’t matter, they were still way too young to have to go through something like that. “...The little guy did deliberately avoid talking about his arms when I asked,” he commented, not sure if that was support for or against the possibility of Lil Mikey having trauma like Leon. And he ended up giving a frustrated sigh and rubbed his head. “Man, I feel like I’m gonna have to walk on eggshells around them now. So what? Am I not allowed to ask anything to them now?”

This time Master Splinter was the one who answered, setting his empty cup down and rising to walk over and place a hand on Raphael’s shoulder. “You have always been instinctually aware of the nuances of childrens’ emotions. Trust your instincts, don’t overthink it, and I’m sure you’ll be fine. And remember, an uncomfortable emotion is not necessarily one to be avoided,” he assured, giving Raphael a pat when Raphael’s shoulders relaxed and he gave Master Splinter a reassured smile.

Then Master Splinter turned to Leo, resting a hand on his shoulder as well. “And my advice for you is to have patience. Continue to allow them to come to you instead of you running to and chasing them, as you described to me before.” And then his gaze shifted to Don. “Donatello, be careful with your vast, and wonderful knowledge. Remember that the mind cannot often be treated overnight. Try not to overwhelm them.” Don hadn’t been expecting to be given his own warning. But after Master Splinter mentioned it, he realized that he very easily could have ended up stressing the kids out by unloading too much information on them to try to help. As he sheepishly scratched his cheek Master Splinter looked to Mom April as well. “For our dear April, I suggest giving them their space when they need it. Affection can sometimes be the perfect medicine, but from a stranger sometimes it can only serve to cause distress instead of comfort.”

“...Thanks Master Splinter,” Mom April responded, also appreciating the caution she hadn’t even considered she’d needed.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m going to make sure those two hooligans haven’t destroyed any furniture or bones. There has been enough surgery for one night,” Master Splinter sighed slightly, giving Leo another pat before he shuffled out of the room, walking stick thumping against the tile.

The three sons chimed in with their own vocal gratitude and well wishes, and after Master Splinter was out of sight Raphael heaved a sigh and flopped onto the table. “Man. Thirty years and he still somehow has the best advice.”

“You said it,” Leo agreed, feeling a mix of relief and also chagrined by what felt like having his flaw called out before he’d even made a mistake.

“Mhmm,” Don chimed with a hum and a nod, returning to the rest of his dinner turned breakfast. “...Do we still have orange juice?”

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Huuuuaaaaagh why does time pass so freaking fast sometimes =<= I totally got caught up in 2 new projects |D that's why the longer delay this time. Wys got me into trying to make a doll of my OCs, and then I started designing a cosplay outfit to try out.....

Anyway 8'D enjoy a little 03 fam only section. Baby Jones having red hair was picked by Wys not knowing what she was choosing between red or black for X'D He's also wearing a dinosaur onsie, compliments of Don.

[wambsgansshoelaces]

heyy love, i love your fics so muchhh!! if ur requests are open, i was wondering if you could write this fun lil oneshot i thought of<3

(didn't really think much of the details but i imagined something like the episode with the pierce family, or u could change to what feels nice to u)

reader is like super hot/crazy attractive and the siblings are instantly interested. kendall and roman, being their idiot selves, start competing for her attention and trying to get her to accept going out etc. turns out, at the end of the day, shiv gets the girl, as she was the one reader wanted all along (gagged them)

Girls Get Girls

Siobhan Roy x fem!Reader

not gonna lie anon I feel like I didn’t do this too well so I’m so so sorry :( I still hope you enjoy even though I don’t really deliver x

btw I literally love you anon keep requesting

im so gay

Word Count: 2.893k

Mergers, acquisitions, stock, trade, liquidation. You couldn’t give a shit about any of it.

You’re not in the financial field at all, much to your parents’ disappointment. It’d brought you out of favor with them, brought your siblings closer to each other.

You usually don’t come to these things, but tonight it talk of selling the entire company. Leaving it all behind, cashing in the lotto, and fucking off. Your family had convinced you to come- despite your clear dislike for everything finance and business, you still hold stock and stake in the company. You were also going to get a pretty penny from your inheritance, so it would be wise to judge your potential buyer alongside your family.

You’re getting ready in your childhood bedroom, pacing the carpet as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. Your father had made it very clear: your job was to root out intention, then act accordingly. Regardless of whether you thought the Roys were worthy of the company or not is irrelevant at this moment. You need to be intimidating.

Intimidating, but also hot. Just for yourself.

A soft knock sounds at your door. “It’s me,” your cousin calls from the hall.

“Come in,” you call back.

She waltzes in, her blouse billowing behind her as she deposits herself on your bed. “Dad’s going to have an aneurysm.”

Even though you already know the answer, you ask, “Why?” You lean against your desk, facing her.

She snorts, knowing you’re trying to push her buttons. “He wants the company, dipshit. I still think all if this is to get on our nerves.”

“A chimp would do better as CEO than any of you,” you say, scoffing. What had started out as what you thought was joking was turning into something else.

“So why won’t you do it, then?” she asks, bitterly. “I don’t see why it has to be either you or someone out of the family entirely.”

“I’m not doing it because I don’t want to. My siblings also just… have no interest. We’re all off to bigger, better things.”

The two of you stare at each other until your father’s yelling draws you both from your trance.

“Up and at ’em,” he’s saying, pretty much to himself, once you’re downstairs. You brush imaginary dust from your sleeves as you make the awkward walk to the helipad. You and your brother share an exasperated look. Despite the fact that you’d been wedged apart over the years, you and your siblings share a lot of the same views and opinions.

“All this peacocking is fucking insane,” he mutters to you once you’re stopped a safe distance away from the pad.

“Just wait until you see them,” you mutter back.

Even though you weren’t involved in the business side of the company, you’d still been involved. You’d gone to dinners, conferences, galas. You were a bit of an outside source, as you held no real position in the company, but you knew you were vital.

At almost every event where someone with your last name was required to attend, there was also a Roy. You’d only ever seen them, never spoken to them

You hear the helicopter before you see it. Sunglasses perched on your nose, you look up. As it descends, your hair and jacket are blown vigorously back, and your hand goes to your scalp. The generated wind is aggressive, slicing over your skin, your clothing. The sound is now deafening, and you notice your sister clamping her hands over her ears. Your father gives her a look, something along the lines of don’t look weak, and your sister rolls her eyes in response, mouthing fuck you.

You have to suppress your smile. The helicopter’s landed, and people are starting to pile out.

“Logan, old friend,” your dad bellows jovially. While the two families had never met, never been close, you know your father and Logan Roy were actually the best of friends. You don’t know how they met. Your father spoke of Logan from as far back as undergrad university.

Your father steps forward, meeting Logan halfway as he leads the rest of his family towards yours. They envelope each other in a hug, and your brother snorts. He’s the only one who’s ever interacted with the Roys.

“It’s like he has a multiple personality disorder,” he’d told you the other day, talking about the enigma that was the head of the other family. “One second he’s laughing, then the minute Dad’s out the room, the guy’s raging over his kids or the people not doing enough work or whatever the fuck else is wrong with that stupid fucking company.”

He turns from your father to your mother, murmuring a warm greeting, then to the row of you, your sister, and your brother.

“Oh, look at the three of you! All grown and radiant,” he says heartily. So far, he doesn’t seem like the demon your younger brother had described him to be. But you know well enough that looks can be deceiving. He opens his arms out to you first, since you’re the eldest of the three. You give him an awkward hug, his hand clapping over your back in a friendly manner. “If only any of my children had the sense to get with you,” he mutters conspiratorially, earning a chuckle from you. He pats your shoulder, before moving on to your brother.

Logan’s wife is next. “Marcia,” she murmurs softly to you, taking you by the shoulders and air-kissing both your cheeks. You return the gesture as she does it, making sure to stay smiling. It’s all a flurry of names you’re sure you’re going to forget the second you need them. Connor, Gerri, Willa, Frank, Rhea. It’s really all just a bunch of letters bouncing around in your head.

Who you’re sure you will remember, though, are the siblings. The younger three. The important ones, your dad liked to call them.

As all of the ‘adults’ convened to chat amongst themselves, like they did when you were children, you and your sister are having a quiet conversation about your work. She’s in the middle of asking you to come out to her office to help you with something when you feel a hand settle on your shoulder. You turn, coming eye to eye with Kendall Roy.

“Hi,” he says carefully, small smile playing on his lips. “I don’t think we’ve met?”

“No, we haven’t,” you say back. “Y/N.” You offer him your hand to shake, like your father expects you to do with everyone.

“Kendall.”

“Yeah, I know,” you say awkwardly. He manages a laugh, withdrawing his hand, his eyes flitting over your face.

“I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, then, to, uh, put your name to your face.”

You’re not really sure what he means, but you don’t think you care that much.

“Move over, Kendall, you’re boring the shit out of her.” His brother comes over, bumping him with his hip. You have to stifle a laugh. “Roman.” You shake hands, offering him a polite smile. “He’s right, though. You’re a bit of a mystery to everyone.”

“Am I?” you ask, laughter seeping into your voice.

“Not to me.” Her voice is firm, clear. “I’m Shiv. I was at the conference you gave the Ethics presentation to. I know your work. My brothers are just stupid.”

You laugh for real this time. “Nice to meet you, Shiv. I’m familiar with your work, too. I’m just not so deep into the political sphere like you are.”

“I can help with that, you know,” she says, expression surprisingly soft. “I’ve been looking for someone that shares my opinions and… moral compass to work with. You need your rock, you know?”

The conglomerate of people slowly transitions inside. Roman and Kendall get roped into other conversations, your sister disappearing off to who knows where. You mill about in the dimly lit sitting room, watching everyone interact. Shiv’s still by your side.

“No offense, but I hate these things,” she says quietly, coming closer to you so you can hear.

You laugh lightly. “None taken.” You glance over at her to find that her eyes are already glued to you. You feel your face heat, her gaze flickering down your body before coming back up to your face. She has a sly smile on, but it’s quickly melting into one of real, soft emotion. You open your mouth to offer her something you’ll probably regret later, but are interrupted by your father clapping his hands together and waving everyone into the dining room. Instead, you give her an exasperated smile and follow the crowd.

Your father eyes you and your siblings as you all slip into your strategically chosen seats, making it so you’d all be surrounded by Roys. Your brother makes a face at you from the other side of the table. You ignore him, instead looking up at Shiv, who hovers by the chair at your left hand.

Almost shyly, she asks, “May I?”

“Please.”

A giddy smile spreads across her face as she sits, and you can’t help but mirror her expression. You look down into your plate, catching your sister’s gaze on you. Kendall takes the seat on your other side, Logan sitting directly across from you, right by your dad.

Roman and your brother are laughing over something as you get served the appetizer, your sister staring off into space while Connor talks at her rather than to her. Your mother speaks quietly with Marcia, and of course, your father and Logan are the loudest at the table, laughing and gesturing around.

Your cousin is on Kendall’s other side, overly-focused on her food. The conversation suddenly involves the entire table, Logan leaving forward. “What is it you do again, Y/N?”

You shrug lightly. “I work in media and risk analysis. Dabble a bit in economics.”

“So like Shiv?”

“Not really,” you and her say at the same time. You gesture with your fork, letting her continue.

“Our work certainly overlaps, and I’m glad it does,” she says, “but I’m more… political, she’s more… corporate.”

“If you dabbled in economics,” your cousin manages through gritted teeth, “we wouldn’t be here.”

“Neither would we if you did,” you retort calmly.

She scoffs. “I still don’t see why all of this is happening,” she says back, barely loud enough for everyone to hear. You look to your father, praying he’ll deal with it himself before she goes on some tirade, scaring off the buyer, but he makes no move. He simply glances at you, his gaze loaded.

Do it yourself.

You wait for a few moments, letting the tension strain the room. Maybe she’ll back off.

She doesn’t.

“The company is leaving family hands because of you, Y/N. It’s going to crash and burn because you refuse to fucking see what’s sitting in front of you.”

Logan’s lips press together into a thin line, and you know you have to recover. “I don’t want the company. Neither of my siblings want it. Don’t you think it’s a little telling you’re the only one lusting after it so loudly?”

“I don’t see what that has to say about me.”

“You want it, and you’re not getting it,” you say firmly. “You’re incompetent. The Roy name is not.”

Dinner is only silent for so much longer. Your brother, at his breaking point, asks loudly, “Why are you even here? You blew the Pierce deal. Fuck off.” Your father hisses something into your brother’s ear. He scoffs in response. “I’m sick of it, Dad. The three of us bust our asses to get this to go well for you and she gets to waltz in, do whatever the fuck she wants whenever the fuck she wants.” He quickly pushes back his chair from the table and makes his way out of the dining room.

Clearly, this is deeper than one stupid comment made at the dinner table. You throw a questioning glance at your sister. She gives a minute shake of her head. She doesn’t know.

Dramatically, your cousin follows your brother out. Roman is trying not to laugh, and all of a sudden, your father and Logan aren’t in the mood they were before.

You turn to Shiv, exasperated. She’s also stuffing a laugh down, and it’s contagious. “Is my juvenile family drama amusing to you?” you murmur to her questioningly, the soft clink of silverware and terse chatter filling the room.

“Yeah,” she says, nearly choking on a laugh. “This is so fucking stupid. How do you deal with it?”

“I never stay home.” You down the rest of the water in your glass.

“Hey, uh, Y/N,” Kendall begins, leaning towards you as you turn to face him. “I just wanted to say, I get how it feels.” He gestures vaguely around. “So if you want to, um, get some air after, I’d love to join you.”

You thank him sincerely, giving him a soft smile. Dessert finally comes out. You’re almost there. You turn back to Shiv, but she’s conversing with whoever’s on her other side, to your disappointment. You eat your cheesecake in silence, Roman catching your eye and giving you a wink. You didn’t know people actually did that, but he pulled it off nicely, you think.

When your father finally gets up, ushering everyone into the sitting room for drinks and chatter, you heave a sigh of relief. You trail behind the crowd, hoping to be able to slip away on your own.

You succeed. You sigh up at the high vaulted ceiling, padding towards the grand staircase up to your room.

“Hey, where’re you going?” comes a soft voice. You turn, Shiv, hurrying after you.

“Escaping,” you say jokingly, pausing on the stairs, letting her catch up to you.

“Can I come?”

“Yeah. You can.”

The sight of her sitting cross-legged on your bed does something to you. It sucks all the air from your body. But maybe that was just the sight of her.

"Your brother okay?" she asks, looking up at you.

"He'll be fine. Everyone's just a bit tense."

"Just so you know, your cousin's temper tantrum doesn't change anything."

"I'd hope it didn't."

"What would change things though," she tells you, "is whether you want to come on once we buy the company."

"Me?"

"Yes, you. I was serious when I was talking about how I need someone in my corner."

"What do you mean?"

"It's me. The company gets handed to me."

"Congratulations, Shiv. But really, I want nothing to do with it."

"I'd be running things. You'd just be my right hand woman. The very attractive right hand woman that I see every day."

You laugh, unable to suppress the grin splitting your face.

“My cousin’ll murder me,” you manage to say.

“So? Let her try. Not like you’ll go down or anything.” She smiles up at you. “I think that’s hot. You’re hot.”

Silence stretches between the two of you, both of you grinning at each other.

“You’re really pretty,” you breathe, believing she followed you for a reason.

“I’m glad you think so.” Her hands come to cup your jaw in the few instances it takes you to cross the room, slide onto your bed, and kiss her. “God, you’re so… so fucking gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” you ask against her lips, peppering gentle kisses onto them. “Stay the night.”

“I told everyone I went home,” she says, giggling.

Your hand flits to her hip, rubbing soothingly. Your kisses are slow, tender. You’re both enjoying yourselves. It feels so real. It feels like something more.

You slide off of her, off the bed, eliciting a whine from her pretty mouth. “Just locking the door, baby.”

You wake up, head buried in her chest. She’d borrowed some pajamas of yours, the shirt a soft cotton. Her breathing is light and airy, and it’s music to your ears. Her fingers are threaded in the hair at your scalp, her arm thrown over your back.

You drift in and out of consciousness until she wakes up, pressing kisses along your forehead. Shiv sits up, letting you stay settled in her lap. You press a hot kiss to her bare thigh, shorts hiked up her legs.

“You know,” she says, after a short while of silence, “Ken and Roman were drooling over you all night.”

You snort. “Were they?”

“I know them. They were. And here I am,” she says, satisfied with herself.

You let out an airy laugh. “Here you are.”

“I was drooling, too,” she admits.

“Can we stop talking about saliva?”

She pinches your ass, to which you don’t dignify with a reaction, instead smiling into her thigh. “I wanna keep seeing you.”

“I have to fly out to Italy for some work. Maybe I want you to come with me.”

“God, I love women.” Her hand cards through your hair. “Mind if I take a picture? I want to send it to my brothers.”

“Perv,” you mutter, but nod anyway. You smile at the camera from her thigh, pressing a searing kiss to the place where her leg meets her hip the moment she hits the button.

It captures her beautiful face in an ecstatic smile, yours in soft affection as you look up at her, not the camera.

[ghcstao3]

what about werewolf!ghost x vampire!soap 👀

hope you don’t mind me using the occasion to revive the rileys for an awkward family dinner

-

Being brought home to meet Ghost’s family is probably one of the more interesting moments of Soap’s (unbearably long) life.

And not only because he’s never properly dated someone as long as he has Ghost before—it’s also because said family isn’t human, and is more than aware of the fact that he drinks blood to keep himself alive.

So. Interesting is where he stands.

Soap is lured in with a false sense of security from two things—the first being Ghost’s insistence that his mother, brother, and sister-in-law are all nicer than him. The second being the warm smile Mrs. Riley offers him at the front door, entirely friendly and sincere, not like the brandishing of sharp canines that Ghost has flashed Soap with once or twice.

She’s pleasant to talk with, already siding with him when it comes to her son’s tendencies, and she even goes so far as to pour him a glass of pig’s blood she’d purchased just for the occasion. And being that it’s so nice, Soap doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he can only tolerate the stuff at best, especially now that he only ever takes from a specific source these days.

It’s through this lovely conversation with Ghost’s mum and the general sense of domesticity that has Soap believing that he shouldn’t encounter any problems when Beth and Tommy arrive.

But how wrong he was.

Beth at least tries to be polite, though Soap doesn’t miss the distasteful scrunch of her nose once she obviously catches scent of what Ghost so lovingly calls the wrongness of vampirism. Tommy, on the other hand, doesn’t so much as bother trying to hide his disdain.

(Thank God Soap finds out later that it’s mostly just the whole protective older brother act, but still. It hurts Soap’s feelings, just a bit.)

Dinner is absolutely stifling when all but Soap are eating what Ghost’s mum has made, all chatter dying off much too quickly in what little bouts Ghost, of all people, tries to initiate. Soap traces his finger around the rim of his barely-touched glass all while he tries to ignore Tommy’s pointed looks like Soap had done something to personally offend him.

Maybe he had.

“You’re sure about this, Simon?” Tommy eventually, finally asks after nothing but pressing silence. Though the question is asked to Soap’s left, he still feels golden eyes near identical to Ghost’s bearing down on him.

Ghost drops his fork onto his plate, his frustration palpable, emanating in waves. “Do you have to be such a prick, Tom?”

“Boys,” Mrs. Riley scolds from her end of the table. “We have a guest.”

“Yeah, and that guest’s a vampire, Mum,” Tommy spits, throwing out his hand in gesture to Soap. “He eats people.”

“Tom,” Beth hisses.

“Common misconception,” Soap mumbles. He feels all attention shift to him, as if they all remembered he was present—right, super-hearing. He clears his throat, raising his voice, “Only the… bad ones do that.”

“Besides,” Ghost is adding, and Soap is a little fearful of where he plans to take this, “he only feeds off me.”

A tense silence blankets the table. Soap wants to sink into the floor.

“…What?”

“It was my idea,” Ghost attempts to amend, but it’s already much too late. This is already a disaster, beyond disaster, and maybe Soap should’ve stuck to his guns about not meeting a family of werewolves as a vampire.

“Doesn’t matter, Simon!” Tommy exclaims his disbelief.

Ghost rolls his eyes. Soap had not at all imagined this to be where the night would lead. It’s what he desperately wished wouldn’t happen. Because he loves Ghost, and Ghost loves his family—so Soap had felt he needed to be in their good graces.

There goes that idea.

“I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t trust him, Tommy,” Ghost says slowly, challenging. “Is how I feel about him not good enough?”

This finally seems to stun Tommy into some form of submission. Soap doesn't miss Beth reaching out to flick Tommy's ear.

"S'pose it is," Tommy grumbles.

"Good." Ghost sits back in his chair, and resumes eating with a smug self-satisfaction poised in his broad shoulders.

There's a kick under the table delivered to Tommy, though Soap can't tell by who. He only knows its recipient by the muttered sorry, John, that follows.

Soap supposes he can be content with that for now. He gives Tommy a close-lipped smile, fearing that any show of fangs might provoke him.

All things considered, things could be worse. Even his military training wouldn't give him a considerable upper-hand against a natural-born werewolf.

He'll have to talk to Ghost about it later. Maybe when the werewolf is shifted, and Soap can dig cold fingers through thick fur. Then again another time, when Ghost can respond with more than huffs and whines and low growls.

They'll figure it out—they've already done it once before with just each other.

But they definitely have to smooth things over sooner rather than later, or else it's going to be real awkward when Soap finally gets the courage to pull out the ring that's been weighing his pocket down for little over a month, now.

It's fine. Everything will be fine. Soap can manage interesting.

[femmescripter]

Medley of Maxley Headcanons

Greetings, all! It's been a long time since I've made an original post. So I wanted to make one for a favorite old pairing I enjoy that's been making a resurgence. A collection of all my Maxley headcanons. I hope that you enjoy them! Species Headcanons Max is a Labradoodle, a designer crossbreed between a Labrador Retriever and a Standard/Miniature Poodle. Along with being great family companions they're known for being great service dogs. Both breeds are in the Sporting Group and are water retriever dogs. He gets his Labrador Retriever side from Goofy and his Standard Poodle side from his late mother. I picked this breed for Max because both breeds have loppy ears, black fur and outgoing personalities. Bradley is a Saluki, a purebred dog that originally comes from the Fertile Crescent region of the Middle East. It is well known for its hunting prowess and hunts by sight rather than scent, making it a sighthound. Additionally in Islamic culture it is the only dog that's described as being clean. I picked this dog for Bradley because the common fur coloring for the breed and its background as a hunting dog fits his personality and overall look. It's also used as a mascot for the Southern Illinois University Carbondale varsity athletic teams, called the Southern Illinois Salukis. And being the athlete that he is just made it an even more perfect choice for Bradley.

Regular Headcanons Bradley, being the Alpha male type that he is, will howl at Max when he walks by to tease him. The first time he did it Max whipped around to slap him out of instinct. Bradley barely dodged it but still likes to tease the cute freshman by howling at him. Now Max just rolls his eyes at the senior. Although he can't deny that he blushes a bit whenever Bradley does it.

Max likes pop music, which surprises a lot of people as he comes off as an alternative music type. And recently he's gotten into city pop(Japanese 70's/80's pop songs). So Bradley takes Max on a surprise trip to Japan to attend a live city pop concert.

Max is a chili head, and Bradley tries to eat a super-hot Serrano pepper chili to impress him. Even in spite of the fact that he has the spice tolerance of a two-year old. It goes about as well as you think. But Max is there with a nice, triple chocolate fudge ice cream cone and gives the Uppercrust a kiss for effort.

Bradley is very possessive and dangerously protective of Max. He does not tolerate anyone who's not part of Max's inner circle touching his freshman. Once at a party a guy tried to get handsy with Max when Bradley turned his head for a moment. Max tried to make the guy back off for his own sake - but it was too late. Bradley already had the creep out on his ear. For the rest of the party Bradley keeps Max sitting in his lap. And even as they leave, he carries Max all the way back to his dorm.

Before either of them enters a skating contest, Max and Bradley always rub noses for good luck. It was a little intimate tradition of theirs that started by accident when they bumped into each other - and their noses touched. Bradley quite liked the sensation, and Max finds it cute how the Uppercrust is a secret romantic. So they started rubbing noses for good luck.

Bradley likes to watch 70's/80's Saturday morning cartoons(i.e. Transformers Generation 1 and G.I. Joe: A Real American Hero), but he never told anyone until he started dating Max. When he told him the Labradoodle started watching the cartoons with Bradley - also having an interest in them. Max even got Bradley a collector's edition action figure from a favorite cartoon of his for his birthday. It was then that Bradley knew he wanted Max to be the new Mr. Uppercrust.

Whenever Bradley is upset he'll seek out Max to lay his head on his lap, and the Labradoodle rubs his scalp. Doesn't matter if Max is at the library studying, chilling at the park or it's late at night and he's about to go to bed. Bradley will text him that he's mad and Max immediately knows what he needs. He'll tell him where he is and Bradley will come to him and lay his head down on his lap, an angry pout on his face as he lets Max rub his scalp. Cute as this is, professors did have to express to Bradley that this isn't allowed in the middle of a midterm. When Bradley proposed to Max, he told him that there was no pressure or expectation to take his name or even hyphenate it. He's actually come to like the name Goof - and knows how much it means to Max. The Labradoodle found this very endearing of the Saluki to reassure him. However Max did at least want to hyphenate his last name. So, on the day of their wedding, Bradley Uppercrust the 3rd and Maximilian Goof-Uppercrust were wedded.

Max does get jealous over Bradley, but it's a bit more complex. Along with general insecurity Max is an angry jealous type. Not angry at Bradley - but angry at the person who tries to steal him or make light of their relationship either by claiming Max is just a gold digger or Bradley just has his wealth and looks to offer. Max would be rightfully pissed and tell off the person by saying Bradley is more than just some rich guy. He may be an arse, but he's trying to do better. And how it's more than he can say for his peers who go out of their way to be nasty people. And if it's someone trying to steal Bradley he tells them off by saying how trashy it is to go after a guy who's already attached and how they could have all the money in the world and still not buy good taste. Then he storms off. Bradley of course is elated to see his normally sweet Goof show some fire. And he spends that whole week just spoiling him from roses to breakfast in bed. Footnote: Don't panic at that last part ! He had someone else cook!

Bradley has always had an affinity for horror movies, so when a school dance was coming he got on a Scream costume and did the whole "Do you like scary movies" bit with Max and towards the end asked if he wants to be his "final girl". Dork that he is Max giggled and said yes.

Bradley was so nervous about asking Goofy for his permission to date/marry Max he actually gave him a bridal dowry. Let's just say you could rent two thirds of Spoonerville for what Bradley gave. But Goofy was cool about it and said that Bradley has his permission. Although he would like a new fishing rod, and Bradley happily got him a top of the line one.

Max wears a white-tailed suit to give the illusion of a gown as the bride and a veil. Bradley wears a classic black tuxedo as the groom. In place of a garter Max wore an ankle band for Bradley to take off and toss. A very special headcanon for all of you House of Mouse enjoyers! Bradley comes to the club every night Max works and always tips him. None of the Gammas, even Tank, go along with him after the first dozen(well for the other members it was the first three times, for Tank it was the first dozen) times because Bradley so shamelessly fawns over Max in his uniform. Older Disney characters like Aladdin and Hercules try to tell him to just talk to Max…but as the kids say, he fumbles the bag. Often. It takes Pongo doing his old ring around the leash trick to literally bring the two together for it to finally click and they actually get together romantically. Max's pet name for Bradley is dreamboat, while the Saluki's pet name for the Labradoodle is macaron. Max speaks fluent French thanks what he learned from his late mother's side of the family, as she originally hailed from Paris. While he doesn't have an accent per se his voice does change into a distinct tone when he speaks French. And it really gets Bradley in a romantic mood any time Max says so much as "croissant". Bradley's Family Headcanons

Bradley having emotionally/physically abusive parents or even a whole rotten family is getting really tired out. So, I'm going to do what Spongebob said and make aggressively NICE people!

Bradley's father, Bradley Uppercrust the Second or Bradman as to avoid confusion with his father or son, is a successful man and a man about town. He's intelligent, a strong leader and also a family man. However…he's a might uncoordinated. Like very uncoordinated. Like…Well like this fella here. For those who don't know, for reference's sake, this is Inspector Clouseau from the original live action Pink Panther film franchise.

Anyway, Bradley could never understand how in the world his accident/danger prone father got to where he was without offing himself just by walking on air. But if nothing else Bradman has a good head on his shoulders(which is amazing that he can keep it on) and is always there to support his son. However, he does wish that Bradley would tone down the intensity at times. As such Bradman views Max as a true blessing as someone who can keep his son grounded and as much on the straight and narrow as possible. Eloise Uppercrust is a mix of two women. The kind you see in beauty pageants, and the kind you see play as the dangerous femme fatale luring the hero to their doom as she was the villain all along. If Bradley got his smarts and looks from his dad, he definitely got his cunning and athletic prowess from his mom. Eloise is not a woman to trifle with, especially when it comes to her loved ones and career. She's a woman filled with ambition and righteous fury. But she can take a moment to settle and be a peaceful lamb when in the presence of her two most favorite men. When it comes to Bradley's fierce competitive streak Eloise does blame herself as she feels she didn't teach her son that there are times when you should stop and not go overboard. So, when Max comes along and shows himself as being both able to keep up with Bradley and having the willpower to make Bradley stop when he needs to, Eloise immediately approves of her future son-in-law. Mercedes Uppercrust, or Mercy for short, is Bradley's tween younger sister. She's usually reserved by nature but does have a wild side that she lets loose when she gets a burst of excitement. Mercy is very close to Bradley but felt that she was losing touch with him after he got more involved with the X-Games and felt that he was more focused on being the champion than he was being a person. And, by extension, being her big brother. So when Max came into the picture and began to help Bradley get on the road to the redemption Mercy looked up to the Labradoodle as a hero. A child prodigy in her own right, Mercedes has a predilection for all things music and cooking. Her favorite instrument to play is the harp and she greatly enjoys baking. And when she learned that Max is a culinary arts major and likes to listen to music Mercedes told Bradley not to blow it with him. Bradley Uppercrust the First, or Grandfather Lee, may be an older gentleman but he has a sharp mind and a strong spirit. Being the doting family man that he is Grandfather Lee loves his son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren very much. When it comes to Bradley he wants nothing more than for him to find the person that he wants to be and for him to be happy in his choice, rather than trying to continue what he thinks is a legacy his grandfather is trying to set up. Grandfather Lee actually takes a great liking to Max as his bright spirit reminds him of his dear late wife. And as it happens the oldest Uppercrust has a rather surprising past that not even Bradley was fully aware of. In his youth, Grandfather Lee was a vocal coach who taught the one and only Powerline. And he was actually backstage when Max and Goofy got on stage with the singer at his concert all those years ago to provide support for his old student. So, in a way, Max has actually "met" Bradley's family early on. Suffice to say - Grandfather Lee gives Max his blessing. Max is a Gamma AU Headcannon

Deciding that he wanted Max apart of the Gammas more than anything, Bradley begrudgingly agreed to let P.J. and Bobby join the Mu Mu fraternity as well. So the freshmen all joined in with the Gammas for the X-Games. And before long Max pretty much became the den mother of the bunch. Having lived with a single dad Max knows about how to run a house and clean. Even though his aloof, free-spirited nature would have you thinking otherwise. He listens to the other Gamma members and talks to them when they need a sympathetic ear. And he knows how to cook actual food, which has certainly worked to strengthen the bonds of brotherhood. Max's kind nature has also helped Bradley chill out. So much that this year he decides not to cheat for the X-Games. Mainly because he knows how disappointed Max would be if he found out.

At some point when Goofy arrives at the college, though, Bradley does feel compelled to come clean to Max about not always having been the nicest guy(understatement) but quickly adds that Max made him want to change. Of course Max is disappointed like he expected him to be. He even contemplates quitting the team. But eventually he's just glad that Bradley decided not to cheat this time - and tells him he'll stay if he puts in the work to win the competition fairly. Bradley does so, and the Gammas do win. It doesn't take much after that before Max and Bradley start dating, and the king soon lands himself a freshman consort.

[roxygen22]

Wish

This is my first one-shot featuring an actor rather than one of their characters. Timothée reminds me a lot of my first love and high-school sweetheart. We grew apart later in life, but I still look back fondly at moments we had like this.

Summary: You are heading off to college across the country. Your boyfriend, Timothée, surprises you with a sweet gesture on your last night together.

<><><><><>

"Come on," Timothée whisper-yelled as he looked down at you from his perch on your shared apartment building's fire escape.

You peered up at him nervously. "What are you doing?"

"You'll see if you ever get up here," he playfully mocked and then disappeared over the roof ledge.

Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, you chanted to yourself as you pulled yourself up the ladder one rung at a time. "Doesn't he know I'm scared of heights?" you grumbled.

Your irritation melted when you finally made it to the top. Timothée stood by a telescope and a palette of blankets and pillows.

"I want to look at the stars with you," he said sheepishly as he gestured to the setup.

Your heart melted. You had no clue when he could have snuck away to set this up. The two of you had spent nearly every moment of the day together, trying to make the most of the remaining hours. The next day, you and your parents would be driving across the country to move you into your dorm room.

Timothée had the telescope trained on the moon. You both took turns looking through the apparatus, then laid down on the blankets with your pinkies linked to stare up at the sky. You looked over to take in his profile, the sharp angles of his jaw and nose, his curly head of hair.

"Thank you for this."

He squeezed your hand. "I find comfort in the fact that we will still be able to look up at the same moon, at the same stars, even though we're thousands of miles apart. When you look up, know that I am thinking about you." He rolled to his side to face you. "That I love you."

Your breath hitched, "You do?"

"At the risk of sounding super corny, to the moon and back," he replied with a big grin.

"I love you, too, Timmy." Your trembling lips met his as you tried to stifle your tears. "I'm going to miss you so much." Your voice broke and betrayed you.

He reached over and held your cheek. "Hey, shh, none of that. There will be plenty of time for tears tomorrow."

You saw his eyes move to something above you. He leaned up on his elbow and pointed to the sky. "Oh, look! Look! It's a shooting star!"

You sat up to look where he was pointing. "Timmy, that's just an airplane."

"I know, but we can pretend. Annnnnnd it distracted you from crying." He winked. "Make a wish."

You closed your eyes and smiled, complying with his silly instructions. You felt him staring at you.

"What did you wish for?" he asked softly.

"Well, if I tell you, it won't come true," you pushed playfully at his shoulder. His small smirk fell from his face as quickly as it began. He gently lowered himself back down to the blanket once more.

"I'll tell you mine because I don't want it to come true."

You gave him a puzzled look.

He looked up into your eyes and took your hand in his. "I wished you could stay. I'm saying it out loud because it would be selfish of me to genuinely want it to come true. You got a full ride to the school of your dreams! This is an amazing opportunity for you, and I'll be damned if I'll be the one to hold you back."

"Oh, Timmy." You laid down and snuggled into his side. The two of you stayed like that for hours in relative silence before he walked you back to your family's apartment.

<><><><><>

Timothée helped you and your parents load up the last of your belongings the next morning. He shook your dad's hand and gave your mom a hug before they stepped up into the truck, leaving the two of you alone for one last lingering moment.

He pulled a small, flat box from his pocket. "Open this on the way," he said as he handed it to you.

You looked down at the box and ran your thumb over the ribbon. Fat tears fell from your eyes as you looked up into his. Timothée pulled you into a hug, and you sobbed against his chest. You felt him plant a kiss against your hair.

"I am going to miss you so much, [Y/N]. But that has nothing on just how proud I am of you for pursuing your dreams. You are going to do amazing things." His voice cracked at the end.

"I love you, Timmy."

"I love you more."

He lifted your chin and drew you into one last kiss. Your tears mixed as your lips moved together. You pushed yourself away and wiped your face before hurriedly climbing into the back seat of the truck. You knew if you made eye contact that you might not have the strength to leave.

Timothée shut the door behind you. Now that you were buckled in and committed to the journey, you risked looking up at him. He looked as pitiful as you felt. His greenish blue eyes were red and puffy. His hands were stuffed in his pockets like he wasn't quite sure what to do next. As the truck moved forward, he loosened one to wave. You placed your hand on the window, wishing you could touch his one more time. You stared and waved until he was out of sight.

Your attention then fell to the gift in your lap. You gently tugged at the bow and opened the box to find a bracelet with delicate moon and star charms. Underneath, there was a small, handwritten note:

Don't forget to look up.

Love, T

<><><><><>

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