#Let people have fun and stop being shitheads

[rats4brainzzz]

Do I agree with all headcannons that people give characters? No. Am I going to whine like a bitch about them and go and harass the person because I don’t personally like it or I think it’s silly? No.

[noemilivv]

Could I please request a Vox, Adam, and Lucifer x GN! Reader who’s typically very chatty and hyper when excited. And maybe somebody says something like “you talk too much”, and it obviously gets to the reader. And how Vox, Adam, and Lucifer would respond and/ or defend their s/o? Thank you!~ :3

ofc!! this is very fun to brainstorm and write for haha (especially for Vox)

Warnings: S1 finale spoilers in Lucifer’s section, randos + Alastor being shitheads

Adam, Lucifer, Vox x Reader who talks a lot

Adam

He had absolutely no idea you felt this way until you two were having a conversation before bed, and he said something he didn't mean

“Geez, you talk a lot.” Adam commented with a light hearted chuckle as he looked down at you, snuggled into his chest and the covers of your shared bed, he didn’t mean any harm though, it was more so commentary.

“I can stop…” You murmured, embarrassed. “No no no, it’s okay, keep going.” He said, rushing to cut you off, as he snuggled your face deeper into his chest.

Adam won’t hesitate to jump in if somebody says something, because only HE can do that.

“You talk too much, you need to calm down, it’s not that serious.” An angel said, while at a meeting, your shoulders dropped before you heard your boyfriend pipe up,

“And? Who gives a fuck? It’s fucking Heaven, bitch. People are allowed to talk and be happy, damn bruh, you’re a fucking party pooper!”

Lucifer

He has his own tendencies to go on endless rants here and there so honestly you both just talk nonstop, and he doesn’t mind a bit!

If someone were to say something to you, he’d have a reaction similar to his reaction with the Charlie-Adam fight, but more tame cause the person didn’t physically harm you

“Stop talking and let me finish!” Alastor said cheerfully with a grin as he went to continue his sentence.

“You don’t get to talk to my partner that way, you smiling freak.” Luci said with a forced grin between gritted teeth, turning his focus away from the conversation with his daughter and her girlfriend and putting it to the conversation between you and Alastor.

“I’m the smiling freak? Look at you! You’re face is all messed up, especially that god-awful smile.” Alastor remarked, poking the bear that was the very protective Lucifer Morningstar, both when it came to his daughter and his partner.

“OKAY!” Charlie said attempting to separate the two, with Vaggie rushing to her aid.

Yeah, if they weren’t stopped, that wouldn’t have ended well😀

Vox

He doesn’t mind your talks, he’s a good listener, but he might not catch everything if he’s working, but if he’s not? He’s all ears.

He’ll act super nonchalant about it, but he thinks it’s the cutest thing.

Normally, he isn’t willing to cause a scene because of his status, but when someone insults the thing he loves most about his partner? Yeah, that shit isn’t flying with him around.

You were scrolling through the comments of the most recent interview that Vox had on his show, which happened to be with you, and you couldn’t bare what you were reading. Mainly the comments like: ‘Omfg Vox’s partner doesn’t stop talking’ or ‘Vox can do better’ or ‘Can they just shut the fuck up? Like bro it’s not that hard.’

You just shut your phone off and slammed it onto the night stand, as tears trickled down your face, all you wanted was to be enough for him, if these people think these things, he probably would to.

You hear someone enter your shared bedroom, with you curled up in blankets and sniffles coming out of you, you feel the bed dip next to you, and a robotic voice that has to belong to Vox ask, “What’s troubling you, my dear?”

“People are just mean…” You mumbled, turning on your other side to face him and picking up your phone and handing it to Vox, you watched Vox scroll for a moment, watching his eye twitch angrily.

“I will handle it, sweetheart. I’ll be right back, don’t you worry your precious mind about a thing.” Vox said, stroking your hair, as he got up and left the room.

Turns out, Vox did a bit of…digging. He got the contact information of the main commenter who gave you issues, and sent them, a little surprise video…

The video showed Vox in office chair, he got straight to the point immediately, banging his fist onto his desk. “Listen here, you little bitch.” He growled, he was glitching out of anger already, damn.

“You don’t get to talk about my partner that way.” Vox stated, waving his pointer finger at the camera, “And if you do?” Vox asked rhetorically, giving a fake grin, before he became more visibly angry then you’ve ever seen him.

“I will personally find you myself, you low-life, fucking loser, and I will tear you apart. Just because your a sad sad, 40 year old virgin man, who still lives with mommy and daddy rent-free and plays on your VoxBox all day, doesn’t mean you get to insult my partner, and you should know better to not EVER pull that shit again, and if you even think about trying to I’ll fly drowns all throughout Hell and make sure they fucking find you and rip you apart, you hear me?”

His anger falters as the glitch does in his voice, “Anyway, have a lovely day, and don’t fuck with my partner again.” He said with his usual show grin as the screen went black immediately.

Yeah, don’t expect him to do that often.

[darlingghoulette]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[komelliko]

scaramouche x f!reader

a/n: getting this out of my drafts... iirc this was inspired by another scara fic i read months ago but i forgot what lolol nsfw! cunnilungus, fingering, bickering, light exhibitionism

--- You grit your teeth. "Can you ask least close the door? Someone's gonna hear us at this rate."

Scara's lips move away from your clit with a wet pop, and he immediately scoffs.

"Stop being a baby. Who gives a shit if people hear us?" His nails dig into your thighs, spreading them further apart. He laughs, adding "Worst case scenario, someone gets jealous of you."

You frown, a fist balling up his hair as his tongue darts in to lick another stripe over your cunt. Another whine fights it way up your throat, and the only way you can keep yourself from letting it through is to squeeze your thighs around Scaramouche's head. He pushes back, thankful that you can't see how wide of a grin he has on his face.

"Come on~" Scara coos. "If you want me to stop, I will. I won't keep going if you aren't enjoying yourself."

The two of you are mutually aware that he is, in fact, lying. You buck your hips into his face, but keep silent.

Scaramouche lets out another laugh once you start whining again. "You're so pathetic that it's hilarious. I bet I could get you to cum for me right now without even trying too hard."

"In your dreams!"

You feel a pair of Scara's deft fingers shove their way into your cunt, and your taunt is immediately undermined by an involuntary moan. Your mind grows too hazy to notice it, but Scaramouche is so intent on proving you wrong that he shuts up entirely, instead circling his tongue over your clit with a calculated intensity. As your legs start to shake and give way, he keeps you propped up against the wall with his other hand, then his shoulders.

Stupid slut, he scoffs to himself in his own head. Though, it isn't as if tonguefucking a girl out in the open would be as fun if she wasn't a spitfire like you. Someone who could just roll over and take it would be a bore, he reasons, whereas forcing an orgasm out of you would actually feel like an accomplishment—Taming the shrew, as it were. "Fucking slow down! I told you, someone's going to hear us!" Scaramouche frowns, but doesn't respond. They fucking better, he muses. Not like any of those worthless shitheads are getting laid this well. If somebody started palming themselves to the sound of him fucking you with his fingers, he'd think nothing of it. Typical behavior of those types and all, pathetic virgins who'd never even touched the elbow of the opposite sex, much less gotten this far. "Ghk-" You almost aspirate on your own spit from holding back another cry. "When I squirt down your fucking throat I hope you choke on it." "Go on, then," he taunts. "Do your worst." It would be a lie to say you aren't trying to break his nose when you start thrusting at him, his tongue now back inside your cunt as he holds you up against the wall with both hands. Still, even as you ride out your orgasm, he unfortunately escapes unharmed. "Told you I wouldn't have to try too hard," Scaramouche grins, licking his lips. "I'd say I pity you... but I really don't."

[heartsofminds]

my life is changing every day, in every possible way

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” or It's Halloween, Bradley has a precocious eleven-month-old daughter, and he might be in love with her impromptu babysitter.

A/N: soooo here's a halloween thing that i kind of just threw together? i'm OBSESSED with bradley being a girl dad and just love this little girl i came up with (@gretagerwigsmuse knows that we love quincy in this household). anywho, enjoy some poorly written dadley and this super pointless halloween drabble? hope y'all had a good holiday and am sooo looking forward to writing more of this daddy/daughter duo !

“Whatever it is, Bradshaw, you’re not excused this time.” 

Jake Seresin slams his locker shut and shoves his wallet in the back pocket of his jeans. The heel of his boot is kicked up, making a soft “thud” on the hollow metal as he leans his back against it. He crosses his arms to lie in front of his chest and adjusts his watch.

The small wooden bench screwed into the linoleum tile perches Bradley Bradshaw, who sits with his elbows digging into the tops of his thighs and his back aching something awful. He softly grunts before he turns to release some of the pressure there. The resounding crack it makes causes Jake to grimace a little before his face returns to the snarky default position it always seems to have. 

“I’m sorry I’m an adult? And have responsibilities?” Bradley rolls his eyes and traces his index finger around a watermark on the wood next to him. 

He notices his Nalgene water bottle sweating and subconsciously picks it up, using the bottom of his t-shirt to dry the wet spots it left in its wake. Jake and Natasha watch him without his knowledge and share a knowing look with each other, but remain silent. Sometimes it’s hard to determine if Bradley’s behavior is because he’s in a vastly different life stage than they are, or if it’s just a Bradley thing. 

Trying to figure it out makes everyone’s brains hurt so they often just let it be. 

The blonde groans again. “You say it like flying a billion-dollar aircraft every single day isn’t a huge responsibility,” he licks his lips before throwing his head back, “Can you take that huge stick out of your ass for once and let yourself have fun?” 

“I have a baby, shithead. I can’t just stop being a dad to go to a Halloween party.” 

Javy slams his locker shut and prances over to Jake and Natasha. A wrinkle in his eyebrows starts to form as he thinks over Bradley’s statement. He finds himself standing next to Jake; his stance is identical and his bargaining skills are tuned and ready to be used. 

“It’s hardly a party at all, man. It’s a costume, a couple of beers at Pen’s place, and maybe one other bar for like an hour,” he speaks and pats Bradley’s shoulder, “Live a little.” 

Bradley sighs; the puff of air housing a hint of playfulness and a hint of annoyance. He knows he’s already lost and that there is absolutely no way he’s getting out of it this time. And so help him God, he can’t believe he’s thinking this, but maybe what Jake and Javy are saying doesn’t sound like too bad of a plan. 

It would be good for him. It would be good them. It would be good for Quincy, and if any of the parenting magazine articles (that he’s kind of ashamed to have budgeted for paying for the subscriptions, if he’s being honest) had anything to say about it, children thrive when their parents are thriving. 

Besides, Penny and Mav have kinda been on his ass about it. Because yeah, she goes to daycare during the day and yes, she’s technically been around other kids and for sure has had her share of being around adults, but she’s one anxious biting attack away from being kicked out of daycare and all the people Bradley trusts (outside of Miss Charlene at the daycare who is a friend of Penny’s and was his babysitter when he was small) are up in the sky so he’s really running himself dry with options. 

Natasha calls it separation anxiety but Bradley calls it a bond. Which is true, Nat had agreed, but it wasn’t just about Quincy being attached. It was also about Bradley being just as attached, if not more. 

In the eleven months that Quincy Elaine Bradshaw had been on this Earth, Bradley hadn’t left her side for longer than four hours at a time. 

And he doesn’t know if it’s because he’s never really had anyone to call his own before or if it’s a “Papa Bear” thing or if there’s some unexplained biological phenomena that won’t allow him to be away from his daughter without spiraling, but he hardly thinks its a problem. . . .

Except when he leaves on his lunch break to go see her at daycare and she’s in a fit of hysterics whenever his hour break is up and he has to return to work. Or when she’s eleven months old and has never slept by herself in her own room before (which is why his back is so fucked, but he’ll never admit it). Or when she’s biting kids and teachers because she’s so anxious she doesn’t know what to do with herself. 

So, yeah. Maybe it is a problem and maybe the root of it all is guilt. 

He can’t let his daughter out of his sight because he can’t help but feel guilty for raising her the same way he was and giving her a ghost that she never asked for – a parent whose approval she will always seek despite never knowing who that person truly is. 

Something about that makes him feel like he has to make up time for two as a punishment for only being one, and being the one who can’t provide her everything she’ll ever need as a growing girl and eventually as a woman. 

“I don’t know,” he says lamely. He wraps his finger around the loose thread on his t-shirt and pulls it in one fell swoop. 

“Okay, fuck. You need to get out. What do you need?” Natasha pipes up, rolling her eyes before sitting down next to him. 

He raises his eyebrows and opens his mouth to answer but she cuts him off before he can. “What’s it gonna take? Do you need a sitter? A lobotomy? You need to live a little, dude.” 

“Well, we know the sitter’s not the issue. The kid’s cute as shit,” Jake speaks up and Bradley scoffs. 

“She’s so fucking cute,” Javy agrees and Bradley has to hide his grin despite being annoyed. 

He helped make the cutest baby ever. Who wouldn’t be obnoxiously proud about that? 

“Absolutely adorable. People are lining up to babysit her,” Reuben Fitch interrupts and joins the group of aviators which further puts a pin in Bradley’s desire to decline the invitation. Rueben doesn’t involve himself in Jake or Javy’s bullshit very often, but when he does, it’s evident that the idea isn’t absolutely batshit crazy. 

Bradley gives him a playful middle finger before straightening his posture and coming to the realization that maybe Jake was right for once. 

“Yeah.” Holy fucking shit. “Rueben’s wife would put her in her pocket and take her home if you let her.” 

And the golden rule is that if Bob is game for something, then everyone else should be. So now he really has no excuse to not go out on Halloween night because he has the Southern Californian equivalent of the fucking Pope giving his two cents on to why he needs to go. 

Fuck you, Bob Floyd for always being the voice of reason. 

“See? Everyone agrees. You’re the odd one out so it’s only fair,” Jake taunts again. Everyone around Bradley seems to be shaking their head in agreement to which he realizes that he’s stuck and there’s no way he won’t be in attendance to the group’s Halloween plans. 

“But it’s her first Halloween,” he tries to reason, “I can’t leave her alone on her first one.” 

Javy sighs. “She’s not even gonna remember it. Yeah it’s a holiday but she’s not missing out on much. She doesn’t even have teeth yet.” 

Jake laughs sarcastically. “Q-dawg’s been chompin’ away on all of her little daycare friends. Haven’t you heard?” 

Bradley narrows his eyes. “Fuck you! I thought you left the room when I was on the phone with the daycare.” 

“Her business is our business now, Bradshaw. Aren’t we allowed uncle duties?” Reuben teases. Natasha clears her throat to interrupt him. “And aunt duties?”  

“Auntie Nat reigns superior and we all know it, but holy shit. She’s biting people? How is she more badass than her dad?” Nat goads and shoves the back of Bradley’s head playfully. She chuckles at how slow his head pops back up and he mocks her laugh and sticks out his tongue at her. 

“Guys, c’mon. I can’t leave her with a sitter on her first Halloween.” Although he knows he sounds silly (and he feels silly saying it, too), his daughter is his best friend in some ways. Despite her not being able to walk yet and only having a vocabulary of a few words, he can’t help but know how deeply he loves her, and how much everything about her matters to him. 

“Then don’t,” Bob says, “Just bring her to Hard Deck for like an hour and then you can run home, meet the sitter, and then meet us wherever else we decide to go.” 

And sometimes Bradley hates how much sense Bob tends to make and wishes that he was wrong. That no, the Hard Deck isn’t a suitable place for a baby, and no, there’s absolutely no way Quincy would keep her cool while being there during one of the busiest nights of the year. 

But he knows it’s a lie because her grandparents are the owners, everyone loves her and fights over having their turn to hold her or even catch a glimpse of a baby smile directed at them, and the fact that Quincy has been to the Hard Deck enough to have developed an affinity for diluted cranberry juice over the Mott’s Tots apple juice sitting in his pantry. 

“Fuck, fine. But you’re finding me a fucking babysitter,” he speaks, pointing a finger between Jake and Natasha before standing up abruptly. He turns on his heel and makes his way toward the door, knowing the only way he can make sense of the predicament he’s put himself in can be solved by seeing his joyous baby girl. 

The sounds of muffled chuckles and shoes squeaking on the ground fill the silence of Bradley’s absence; all of their eyes flitting to each other to decipher if they actually made the most stubborn man alive give into their bidding with minimal effort. 

“Did we just make Rooster. . .cave?” Reuben speaks, his arms coming up to cross in front of his chest. His thumb rolls his wedding band around on his ring finger as he waits for someone else to speak up.

“Huh,” Jake huffs, “I think we did.” 

“So I’m guessing the lobotomy is out of the question,” Mickey ponders out loud, “Y’all better know a damn good babysitter.” 

Natasha and Jake’s eyes widen in realization. They better find a damn good babysitter soon.

Carrying a baby is harder than it looks. 

Bradley swears that his daughter is an eighty-year-old woman trapped in the body of a drooly and overly excitable eleven-month-old.

It's not the worst thing in the world, he figures. 

But God, is she giving his arms a workout from the amount of times she’s tried to contort her small body to get a good look at all the ruckus and excitement going on around her. It’s when Bradley feels a bead of sweat run down the back of his neck that he realizes the costume he’s picked may not have been the smartest move; especially when no one seems to get what he’s supposed to be. 

Secreting sweat by the gallon seems like an unfair exchange to be dressed in what he thinks is the greatest daddy-daughter costume of all time. The flannel shirt he has on and the overwhelmingly hot coveralls to go with it was a good idea in theory (that theory being how frigid the Halloweens he used to spend in northern Virginia were when he was a little kid). 

He finally makes it to the saloon-style doors of the bar and is met with “Thriller” by Michael Jackson playing from the overhead speakers above him. Every surface seems to be decked out in cobwebs and dark purple and neon green spiders, and Quincy stares in awe at all the patrons meddling about around her before making grabby hands at the faux snakes dangling around the jukebox. 

She almost slips out of Bradley’s grasp before being wrangled back to a stable position by her chunky rolled arms. 

“Jesus, girl,” he gasps, swallowing the lump in his throat while Quincy giggles in his face. “You tryna kill me here?” 

“Well look who it is!” Penny’s teasing voice sounds in his ears. 

Quincy’s little eyes catch the figure of her faux grandma and she begins to squeal in her father’s ear before reaching her arms as far out as they can go; reaching and moving so frantically it looks as if she’s attempting to swim in midair. 

Penny moves closer to them and raises her eyebrows. Her arms instinctively reach out and she grabs Quincy from Bradley. Her fingers trace the burgundy felt of her costume before she tickles the baby. Quincy erupts in a fit of laughs. 

“What has your crazy daddy got you dressed as?” she teases, her elbow coming out to knock Bradley in his ribs playfully. “Are you an. . .apple?” 

Bradley huffs and rolls his eyes. His gaze instinctively lands on his daughter who clasps her hands on Penny’s face and traces her chubby (and insanely sticky) baby fingers across her red lips. She puckers her lips and chuckles to herself at Quincy’s amazement of red lipstick. 

“She’s a cranberry,” he exaggerates his pronunciation of the word for extra emphasis, “Has Ocean Spray become a relic around here?” 

Penny’s eyes flicker between Bradley and the baby she holds in her arms. The splotchy rosy cheeks and honeyed hazel eyes tells the tale of twins, and she’s reminded of the little boy she used to casually see around Fightertown all those years ago dressed in different variants of the same dinosaur on Halloween. 

“Sweetheart, you’re saying it like it was the most obvious thing in the world,” she starts, simultaneously giving her attention to Quincy and the million and one different things going on around her, “I almost thought she was one of the cement balls outside of Target but realized the red was too dark.” 

He groans, his eyebrows furrowing together and a slight scowl forming on his face. Penny’s heart is warmed because his daughter has a propensity to make the same face when she’s frustrated. 

A beat absent of dialouge passes. Hoots and hollers fill the silence as well as strangers stopping by to coo at Quincy before being on their way to the pool table of their desire. Quincy babbles and talks as if she’s a lawyer prosecuting a case and Bradley’s heart softens at how animated she is. 

Her awkward tongue pushes out more saliva than what would be socially acceptable and the drool begins to gather on her face. He reaches out and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of his flannel while she flops like a dead fish away from the makeshift napkin in protest. 

God, this girl is so dramatic. 

“I handmade it,” he says softly. He runs a dry part of his sleeve across her lips more firmly to ensure he had gotten all the wetness. 

Penny hums in acknowledgement. “And you did good.” 

And he doesn’t know why he’s expecting it; why he’s waiting on Penny (of all people) to see him picking a scab and rub more salt in the wound. He knows that she would never do that and he knows that most of the people (if not all of the people who he considers close to him) see him that way. He knows that people know he’s trying his best and that he’s doing everything he can. 

Bradley knows but he just can’t make himself feel it, and he can never figure out why. 

Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad. Maybe it’s because he’s a single dad without a “real” mom or dad to show him the way. Maybe it’s because he’s finally gotten used to having someone around who relies on him and needs him and loves him unconditionally, and he’s terrified of doing something that will make her sit on a couch in a therapist office and say the words that he’s trying his best to avoid: “My dad doesn’t love me enough.” 

Bradley knows what it feels like to not be loved enough. Bradley knows what it feels like to not be liked enough. But Bradley doesn’t know what it feels like to not try hard enough, and that is something he is determined to never stop doing when it comes to his baby. 

“You’re saying it like I didn’t though.” 

Penny’s face falls and she shifts her gaze from Bradley’s daughter to him. 

“Oh, Bradley,” she sighs, her open palm coming up to cup his face, “I didn’t mean it like that. You’re an amazing dad and you’re doing a fantastic job.” 

He grabs her hand with his and gives her a weak smile in return. 

“Doesn’t feel like it, though.” 

He’s usually not one for feeling sorry for himself. He’s never been too keen on throwing pity parties and inviting everyone he knows to them, and in all actuality, he doesn’t know why this bid for reassurance that he’s serving Penny is even coming up. 

“No. Stop it. No,” she playfully chides, tickling Quincy to make her erupt into a ball of silent baby chuckles. “You’re an amazing dad and everyone knows it. You’re her world and that’s all that matters.” 

Bradley opens his mouth to respond but can’t find the words to accept her compliment. He simply nods his head before the already loud noise of the bar is split by an even louder whistle. 

His neck cranes around to see his group of friends waving him over to the pool table and the anchored weight of doom starts to sink in his stomach. He remains frozen with his hands in his pockets and his body emitting heat from his personal heater of rubber waders. He feels like a seven year old at the park again; his mother standing before him and wordlessly encouraging him to go play and make friends. 

The high pitched scream of his daughter is heard as Maverick approaches. Both Penny and Bradley wince more and watch as his daughter mindlessly babbles and almost flies out of Penny’s grasp in favor of him. 

Pete smiles to himself before grabbing her from Penny. She rolls her eyes at him and he playfully sticks out his tongue. 

“Like father, like daughter,” he says, “M’never not a Bradshaw kid’s favorite.” Quincy sticks her chubby fingers near Maverick’s mouth and squeals as he pretends to bite them. 

“Did the past fifteen years just. . .not happen?” Bradley quips. In the past, the snarky comment would have made Maverick freeze on the spot but since they’ve repaired their relationship, (and Quincy’s frequent stays at Nana Pen and Papa Mav’s on the weekends) the insult rolls off Maverick’s shoulders into oblivion. 

“You’re making fun of the old timer, but I’ve been havin’ myself a grand ole time and you’re in the corner pouting like you’re in timeout,” he comments back, “Don’t you have friends or something?” 

“I’m just – taking my time to get over there.” They all look as Jake lets out an obnoxiously loud holler after hitting the eight ball into the pocket to win his pool game. “M’trying to choose joy tonight.” 

“And choosing bad costumes too.” Maverick holds his granddaughter out in front of him to get a full fledged look at her costume. She kicks her legs in the air gleefully before he pulls her back to his chest. “Who makes their kid the…Target balls?” 

Bradley lets out a groan and rubs at his temples. “Oh my God! She’s a cranberry!” 

“Love you to pieces, kid but I think you need your vision checked. You can’t put a kid inside a red sphere and call it a cranberry,” his finger comes out to poke his granddaughter and he’s met with a giggle, “A quack doesn’t always mean duck.” 

“Aren’t you, like, 5’4 –” 

Penny interrupts the conversation with her hands and quickly grabs Quincy from Maverick’s hold. He flashes her a small pout and is met with the ice cold glare of his girlfriend. 

“Bradley, go talk to your friends, babe. We’ll bring her over in a second,” she says, squeezing Pete’s bicep to drag him with her to the bar. 

“But –” they both begin to complain in unison. Penny gives them a pointed look that immediately shuts them both up. 

“Let’s go get some cranberry juice! How does that sound?” she asks Quincy who begins to smile and clap her hands in approval. Penny turns on her heel to head to the back while Maverick stands frozen in front of his nephew. 

“Do you really think I’m only 5’4?” he meekly asks, genuine concern covering his face. 

Bradley shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. The paper  “Ocean Spray” label he’s taped onto his waders bends and he mentally cringes at the crease he knows will probably be there. 

“I mean, sometimes when you turn to the side it’s hard to imagine that you’re actually 5’7.” 

“You don’t mean that.” 

“I said, let’s go get some juice!” Penny’s yells, annoyance dripping off her tone. Maverick claps Bradley on the shoulder before retreating to go accompany Penny in getting Quincy copious amounts of diluted cranberry juice. 

With Maverick’s departure, Bradley realizes that he actually has to go interact with his friends. After all, they’re the reason that he’s here. But when he takes in the swell and dip of the loudness that is contingent on the World Series playing on the televisions around him, he wonders if he’s made the wrong choice tonight. 

He imagines that he would’ve taken Quincy up the street to trick or treat at a few houses before her impatience and curiosity made her lose interest in the activity. They would have abandoned trick or treating and ended up on the couch where she would be cuddled up beside him with her feet tucked somewhere in between his ribs (because she seems to have a talent for finding the most tender spots on his body to lay) and stroking the tip of his mustache with her perpetually sticky fingers as she begins to doze off. They would be probably watching It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown before her bedtime came, and she would be read three books, tucked in, and off to sleep before he caved and pulled her from her crib and let her sleep with him in his bed. 

While it’s mundane and certainly not what he would have considered the epitome of “fun” even two years ago, he feels a weird ache in his chest knowing that he’s missing out on that reality. But he has to snap out of it if he doesn’t want to be miserable and ruin everyone’s night. 

Besides, Jake and Nat promised him free drinks all night and they already found him a babysitter and paid her for him. He’s in too deep to back out now.

Bradley takes a deep breath before approaching his friends and tries to ignore the ringing in his ears as Jake and Mickey scream as the Texas Rangers score their first homerun of the game. 

“Look who finally decided to show up!” Reuben teases, forcing a beer into his hand that had been on standby until Bradley’s arrival. 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t get too excited,” he deadpans before moving around the group and telling everyone hello. 

He’s met with joy and little jabs about graduating to “old timer” status that he playfully ignores. Bradley knows that they’re all just joking with him and that they mean no harm by their comments. Even he’s slightly surprised that he went through with coming out tonight; not to mention coming out while wearing a costume. 

His eyes catch Jake slyly handing over a twenty dollar bill to Javy accompanied by a middle finger before he turns his attention to Bradley. 

He can already sense the half-assed greeting he’s about to get from him before Jake even begins to speak. 

“Got a lot of questions for you but I’ll start with this one,” Jake begins and Bradley rolls his eyes before he finishes his statement, “What the fuck are you supposed to be?” 

He groans before pointing to the crumpled “Ocean Spray” label taped to his front. “Fucking Christ. Does no one know where the fuck cranberry juice comes from?” 

Jake laughs before taking a long swig of his beer. His ridiculous belt buckle and cowboy boots tell Bradley exactly what he’s supposed to be. Well, that and the fact that for as long as he’s known Jake, he’s always the same thing every year for Halloween. 

Leave the Texan to always be a cowboy. 

“My first guess was one of the guys from “Deadliest Catch” but since you wanna be a diva about it. . .I’ll just pretend like the Ocean Spray farmer was beyond fuckin’ obvious” he takes a long swig from the beer bottle he has in his hand, “But that’s not important. Where’s our girl?”

Bradley sighs and looks around near the back of the bar where he knows his baby is being given the spotlight by all the older Hard Deck patrons that can’t believe that, “Little Bradley Bradshaw has a baby now!” He’s known that he’s always had a knack for attention, but his daughter lives for the limelight. He’s never known anyone in his life to be so incredibly outgoing, nevermind the fact that Quincy is already the life of the party and she can’t even speak coherently yet. 

“Pen and Mav took her to get cranberry juice,” he emphasizes the word and Jake rolls his eyes at him this time instead of the reverse, “They’re gonna bring her by in a bit.” 

Natasha makes her way over to the two men; extra smiley and smelling like she had bathed in tequila. Natasha always parties hard but never lets it keep her down. Her ability to drink liquor like a fish and be perfectly fine the next morning has always been a mystery to Bradley. She’s called Phoenix for a reason, he knows. 

“Bradley!” she cheers. Her dark hair is hidden by a copper colored wig and he almost wouldn’t recognize her if he hadn’t known her face so well. The green eye makeup and the plastic vines wrapped around her shoulders and legs cue him into the fact that she’s dressed up as Poison Ivy.  

“Hey!” he cheers back, matching her enthusiasm. 

“You’re the fisher guys from “Deadliest Catch”! That’s so clever!” 

Bradley’s face drops and Jake begins to lose his composure beside him. Natasha’s eyes immediately soften with worry and she starts to search for the words to profusely apologize. 

“No I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings! I swear it! I was just – I thought — I think that it’s really cool and the overall thingies look great on you! I’m so sorry,” she word vomits and Jake continues to laugh hysterically. 

“Nat, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he speaks gently, “Just calm down a little.” 

She takes a deep breath and Bradley can physically see her brain wipe the incident away as if it had never happened. He’s been her best friend for years and knows what she looks like when she’s close to being black out drunk. There’s maybe a thirty-five percent chance she even remembers this interaction at all. She blinks blankly at him before getting distracted by the baseball game and almost topples over with how fast she turned her head. 

Jake lightly smacks Bradley’s chest with the back of his hand. “I’m gonna go grab her a water. You want anything?” he asks, gently. He doesn’t want Natasha to overhear him because they both know that she’ll refuse his help no matter what state she’s in. 

He shakes his head “no” before hearing the clunk of his boots carrying him to the bar, leaving him and Natsaha alone in the pocket of the bar that their friend group has claimed as their own.

Natasha’s eyes follow Jake’s path to the bar and Bradley has to hide his grin and hold his tongue to not set her off while she’s so vulnerable. Natasha has always been the tiniest bit sweet on Jake but is too stubborn to admit it. Even with all the logical circuits in her brain turned off, she refuses to let herself ponder on this fact for longer than a few seconds. She catches herself staring at the blonde in a half-assed Halloween costume before she returns her attention to Bradley. 

And just as expected, she changes the subject as if their earlier conversation had never even happened. 

“Where’s Quincy Wincey?” she asks and Bradley chuckles. 

Even with no coherent thoughts in mind, Natasha still loves his daughter and wants nothing more than to see her. 

“She’s behind the bar with Pen and Mav. She’ll be here shortly.” 

Natasha nods before opening her mouth again. “You know, you’re a great dad, B.” 

Her sudden revelation takes the words out of Bradley’s mouth. He’s known Natasha Trace for nearly fifteen years and he has never known her to give out genuine compliments half-assed. He has half the mind to ask her what she means by it, but knows that it’s no use given the state she’s in. 

All that matters is that she really means it, so he settles for a simple “Thank you” instead. 

Jake announces his return by forcing a cup of ice water into Natasha’s hand which she gripes about but begins to drink anyway. 

“Your daughter’s back there chummin’ it up, by the way,” Jake states simply and Bradley pauses. 

“What do you mean?” His hands come out to rest on his hips. 

“Well, for starters,” he begins, unwrapping a toothpick and putting it in his mouth, “She’s got people handing her candy and peanuts into a little paper bag. She’s being pretty efficient about it if I say so myself. Had half the mind to grab her from Mav while I was up there cause I wanna see her, but I didn’t wanna get in the way of her business efforts.” 

“She’s what?” 

“Paper bag. Candy. Peanuts,” Jake lists, “C’mon, man. Keep up!” 

Bradley stalks toward the bar to go get his daughter. He’s not angry, in any sense of the word, but kind of disappointed given that she’s technically trick or treating for the first time and he’s not there to witness it. Part of him is starting to feel restless at his lack of interaction with her and wants her back in his arms immediately. 

“Hey, don’t insert yourself in her business endeavors! Be happy your daughter is likable. We all know she doesn’t get it from you,” Jake shouts before returning his attention to the World Series playing out in front of him. 

By the time Bradley arrives to the bar top, he takes note of exactly what Jake had seen upon his visit. There is his daughter with ruddy cheeks and a toothy grin absolutely hamming up her cuteness at some captains and their wives with Maverick holding her up so she can stand semi-confidently on the table. Her little fist holds a brown paper bag that Penny uses for her peanuts and is full with candy and crinkled due to her lack of a proper graspar reflex. 

His daughter is a world class charmer and she has an equally charming grandpa to help her do her bidding. 

“Bradley!” Maverick cheers, turning Quincy his direction so that she can have eyes on her dad. 

Like magic, she abandons the little bag she was holding in favor of the arms of her father. He grabs her without hesitation and she glues herself to his side as if it’s her permanent position. 

“You better not be making my baby a con artist, Mav,” he weakly threatens. He coos at Quincy and marvels in the way she lays her head on his shoulder. 

“Hardly. She’s a people magnet, kid. Everyone would be happy to do anything she wanted them to do.” 

Bradley sighs, knowing that he’s missed one of her milestones. This is the price he’ll have to pay forever with being a more than single parent with the kind of job he has. He swallows the disappointment down and saves it for later. He knows that it’ll come up another time anyway, so why even bother with addressing it now? 

“You’re treating my kid like a Kennedy, Mav. Don’t get any ideas on how to sneak her onto base to get you out of trouble.” 

Pete laughs and holds up his hands in defeat. “Can’t make any promises,” he simply says, “Don’t you have to go meet the sitter soon?” 

Bradley groans at the gentle reminder his uncle is giving him. Maverick doesn’t know what it’s like to be a parent in the slightest, but he knows what good parenting looks like. He had seen it with Goose and how much he had cared for Bradley in the very short amount of time he was given, there’s no doubt in his mind that Bradley is the best dad that Quincy could ever ask for. 

But what he also knows is how perfectionistic and borderline obsessive his nephew can be. He deserves a break and a break Maverick knows will be spent in good company with people who love him. 

Bradley deserves this, and he knows that Mav’s gentle reminder is more of an order telling him to be kind to himself. 

He looks down at his watch and sees the little hand inching towards the eight. “Yeah. We need to get going.” 

Pete leans over and gives Quincy a kiss on the head as a “goodbye” before shoving the paper bag of candy into her father’s hand. 

He closes his hand around Bradley’s fist and gives it a firm shake. “Have fun tonight. You deserve it.” 

Bradley nods before bidding goodbye to Penny who is beyond excited at the idea of Bradley finally going out, baby free, for the first time since he found out he was going to be a father. 

And when his daughter incoherently hums along to “The Girl is Mine” by Michael Jackson and Paul McCartney in the backseat, Bradley knows how hard leaving her alone tonight is truly going to be. 

She shouts at him which he knows is her trying to get his attention to sing along with her. 

“You ready, babe?” he asks, eyes flitting up to peek at her in his rearview mirror, “Because, the doggone girl is mine.” 

Quincy bursts into a fit of baby giggles as he tries to ignore the feeling of impending doom brewing in his chest. He grabs a piece of chalky bubble gum from her candy bag and pops it in his mouth. He cringes as he chews. 

Who the fuck gives gum to a baby? 

Bradley doesn’t know why his heart is pounding out of his chest. 

He knows that he’ll only be gone for two hours maximum and that Quincy will probably sleep the entire time anyway. She may be precocious and charming, but she loves bedtime more than anything, and from the active night she’s had, he’d be surprised if she even made it fifteen minutes before passing out somewhere on the living room floor. 

He trusts Natasha’s judgement (and Jake’s, he’ll begrudantly admit) and he knows the sitter they found for him is nothing less than amazing. You’re a childhood friend of Natasha’s that had recently moved to the area and had been Jake’s date one time to the Navy Ball six years ago (which he had learned from an Instagram post dated from 2017). 

And Bradley will say he doesn’t know much about you (outside of his deep dive stalk that he had done days before, but that remains beside the point, he thinks) but that would be a big fat lie. He feels a little pathetic to admit that he had created a faux LinkedIn profile to be able to look you up and see your credentials as well as finding every mutual follower you had amassed between Natasha, Jake, Javy, and Bob. 

And it’s a little creepy, he admits, but he’s only just looking out for the safety of his daughter! Just because you know his friends doesn’t mean that he knows you (which he knows is wildly untrue given the overwhelming amount of Internet stalking he had done on you in the past week). 

Bradley is burning a hole into his living room floor by pacing back and forth with his daughter in his arms. As anticipated, she’s started to doze off and he chuckles to himself. Quincy loves bedtime and that remains uncontested by the way her little lips are pursed and she lets out light snores. 

The sound of a car door opening and shutting keys him into being aware of your presence and he scares you half to death because he opens the door before you can knock; your knuckles almost coming into contact with his chin had you not been paying attention. 

“Oh,” you mummer, “Ummm. You’re Bradley, right?” 

And you’ve never felt as dumb as you do now because of course he’s Bradley. You know what he looks like and the baby asleep on his shoulder and the last name “Bradshaw” printed on the doormat outside should be enough for you to deductively reason that that’s him right in front of you. 

Not to mention, you’ve been Internet stalking him and know what he looks like for a fact because of the amount of photos Natasha has of him on her Instagram and in her story highlights. You had always found him attractive whenever your eyes graced those pictures, but that’s all it was; a fleeting thought that was never watered and was gone as soon as it was there. 

But now that he’s in front of you, now that you’re getting a really good look at him holding a precious baby on his hip and somehow making rubber waders look amazing, your mouth starts to get dry and your heartbeat starts to quicken. 

“You must be the sitter,” he declares and he mentally kicks himself for how cold he’s coming off. His nerves have a tendency to put him into fight or flight and the pressure of being in your presence merely adds to that. 

He clears his throat when he notices your lips forming a thin line and rejection teeming from your body language. 

Fuck. Why do I always do this? 

“Oh! Uh – Come in,” he steps aside and closes the door behind you as you walk in. 

From what you know about Bradley, you know that he’s a single dad who had a less than stellar record for wanting female companionship. When Nat would come to Williamsburg to visit you all those years ago when you were fresh out of undergrad and working as a TA, barely scraping enough money to pay your rent, she would lay on your floor and crone about how she had a friend who never seemed to be able to keep a girlfriend. 

But he was amazing, she would insist, and he’s such an awesome person, she would say. Somehow though, Bradley always seemed to be heartbroken and searching for the next way to smash what little he had left of it into unsalvageable pieces. 

Even though that was close to a decade ago, you know that the fact remains true when you peer across the pictures in his living room. Photos of a blonde couple and a dark haird little boy that you know are his parents. Photos of him with the infamous and insane Maverick. Photos of him with his daughter, but no photos of him and his daughter’s mother; let alone a girlfriend of any kind. 

“So she’ll probably sleep the entire time. Don’t put her in her crib because she’ll scream bloody murder and not calm down for a long time so you’re free to keep her on the couch or put her in my bed,” he lays her down in the corner of his couch and puts the large blanket laying there on her lower half, “She’s allergic to strawberries but I don’t think she’s gonna be eating anything while you’re here and I don’t have strawberries in the house.” 

He pauses, wracking his brain for more information to tell you that wouldn’t just be him retelling his daughter’s entire life story. “Oh! This is kind of weird, but if she wakes up and won’t go back to sleep, just play “The Girl is Mine” –” 

“The Paul McCartney song?” you question. Your eyes search his face and are full of amusement. He can’t help but feel his chest flutter at the little glimmer they give off. 

Focus. You can’t flirt with the babysitter. What’s wrong with you? 

“Well, it’s Michael Jackson’s song featuring Paul McCartney but yeah. It usually calms her right down and she’ll settle enough to doze back off.”  

He knows that his daughter is more than quirky. Sometimes he settles for the word “particular,” but he knows quirky is the right one to use. 

You start to laugh a little. “That’s so –” 

“Weird?��� he inserts, “Yeah, I know. I’m raising a sixty-year-old but there could be worse songs. Be grateful she’s phased out of only wanting to listen to “Break Free” because there’s nothing worse than listening to EDM on a loop at three AM because she won’t fall asleep unless it’s playing.” 

You shake your head and agree. “Well, I promise that we’ll behave ourselves and not get into anything too crazy. She’s adorable, you know, so if she asks, I don’t know if I can stand it to say no.”

You can’t flirt with her dad. You can’t be the babysitter that’s trying to get banged by the dad. What’s wrong with you? 

He chuckles and crosses his arms over his chest. “I’ll see to that. Her sitter is pretty cute too so I think I’d be pretty forgiving.” 

And fuck. Is he, is he flirting with you? 

You’re left speechless before his phone rings and he rolls his eyes before grabbing it off the entryway table. 

“Hang on a sec,” he says before swiping across the screen to answer. “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Jake. I’m on the way.” 

He grabs his keys and starts heading toward the door, his cell phone wedged between his shoulder and ear and you have to stop yourself from drooling. “Calm the fuck down, dude. I’m leaving like right now. . .Yes, I’m literally walking out the door – Can you chill? I’ll be there when I get there?” 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

He bids you goodbye with a simple wave before shutting the door and running to his car. The sound of the front door closing instantly wakes Quincy who shoots her head up and frantically swivels it around in pursuit of her father. When she can’t spot him, her bottom lip droops and starts to wobble. 

She spots you and immediately lifts her arms up, telling you that she wants to be held. You graciously comply and coo softly to her and marvel in the way she instantly koalas to your side as if she had always had a spot there and had always known you. 

Part of you thinks that it’s fate. That in some way, you’re meant to be in her life and meant to stick around but you know that this silly schoolgirl thinking will only get your heart smashed to pieces. You decide to ignore it. 

Besides, Natasha would kill you if you ever expressed to her how hot you found her other best friend. 

Some things just aren’t meant to be. 

Bradley jogs into the next bar that his friends had decided to go to with a slight smile on his face. He scans the crowd and spots Jake and Bob trying to hold up a beyond inebriated Natasha. 

“You’re awful happ — Oh dear God. Don’t tell me you screwed the sitter,”  Jake greets and Bob looks away bashfully once the statement leaves Jake’s mouth. 

Bradley mocks him before helping them guide Natasha to a booth. 

“Can you ever just say "hello" like a normal person? Do you always have to be bitchy?” he remarks. 

Jake lets Natasha rest her head on his shoulder and looks down to check on her. “It was just a comment. You know we picked her because we wanna set you guys up, right?” 

Bradley’s world stops. He raises his eyebrows and feels his mouth go dry. 

“You what?” 

“I mean, she’s cute. She’s smart. She loves kids and she obviously didn’t vom on you from getting a look at your face, so I assume it went well,” he starts listing his reasonings on his fingers, “You also bounced in here like you have a can of jumping beans shoved up your ass so you’re giddy about something.” 

Bradley scoffs. “I do not have anything shoved up my a– Why do you care so much about who I’m seeing?” 

Jake looks at Bob who starts to shrink a little in his seat. He instantly knows that the set up wasn’t all just Jake and Nat. It was probably the entire squadron. 

“We want you to be happy, dude. I mean, this is a good opportunity for you and for Quincy,” Bob starts and Bradley knows that he needs to listen and take it into actual consideration if he knows what’s good for him. 

Jake and Natasha are class A meddlers, but everyone else getting involved shows how much this matters to him.

“You’re doing great and I know for a fact I’m not half the man you are, but you also gotta cut yourself some slack. You have to let yourself be happy, too. Life isn’t all just about sacrifice, you know?” 

“And we made a reservation for you both at that one rooftop restaurant downtown. There’s a $250 cancellation fee so you kinda have to go,” Jake adds and Bob facepalms himself at their friend’s lack of tact. 

“You did what?” 

“Also she thinks you’re hot. She texted Nat about you ten minutes ago and she’s way too drunk to respond so we did for her and as of now, “He totes thinks you’re hot too. Make a move when he gets back.”” 

Bradley’s mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the words to say. 

“Thank us when you’re getting us together about the proposal.” 

There’s something about the way that life flashes before your eyes and there’s never anything you can do about it. 

You can take photos or collect trivial keepsakes. You can talk about the events in past tense and have the story change slightly every single time the words leave your mouth. You can dream about it in watercolor memory and try to make sense of it all. 

But no one ever tells you what it means when you’re standing before your daughter, a dark haired beauty with such elegance and spunk that it’s impossible to put a label on it, as she embarks on a journey to truly be her own person. 

No one ever tells you how to cry so you don’t smudge your mascara. No one ever tells you the hole in your heart this day will give you but the rainbow of joy that supersedes it when it’s all said and done. No one ever tells you how all the times she had a nightmare or scraped her knees or needed you sit at the forefront of your brain. 

And when you stand before your daughter dressed in a white dress and getting married to the love of her life, you can’t help but recall the night that you fell in love with her and remember the little baby she was all those years ago. 

So around all the orchids and wedding guests and happy tears, you settle to retell this moment in the only way you know how. 

“The first time I met my daughter, she was dressed as a cranberry.” 

And somehow, that statement is all you need to explain the love between the two of you. 

[sexy-monster-fucker]

Would you consider writing Lee Russell x femTeacher where they go to a work conference and have to face the dreaded one bed situation? Bonus points if they've been pining for one another and are finally indulging

I wish I was joking when I say that this is one of my favorite tropes BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH

Lee Russell x F!Teacher!Reader

CW: ONE BED, Lee being a shithead, little bit of degradation mostly just Lee being himself, fingering, p in v, creampie

a/n: even though Lee likes to think he’s dominant, he crumbles literally the minute you start with him. Still gonna run his mouth, but if you’re touching him he melts. He’s such a brat.

~~~

You both stood awkwardly in the doorway. Bags still grasped tightly in your hands. A silence falling between you unlike any other before. Both your jaws hung open slightly. Eyes bulging as you realized the situation you had gotten yourselves into.

One. Single. Bed.

Not even a pull-out couch— hell not even a couch for that matter. Just some old dingy chair without padding next to an old round table.

“Oh my God,” Lee said breaking the tension between you. Awkwardly laughing as his hand caressed his own face. Pulling his skin down with it. Walking in and propping his suitcase up in the chair next to the bed.

It was a big conference. Leading to sold out hotel rooms all around the venue. The room had been scheduled extremely last minute. Too wound up in other things around North Jackson High to remember one of those most important events of the school year. Two people were drawn by Lee Russell every year to attend. Staff always noting how it seemed to be used as a punishment for some of the teachers when they were “by chance” got paired with teachers they hate. This year, Lee pulled your name first. Following it shortly by a flirty comment when he read his own.

His comment came as no surprise to you. It was the norm between you to flirt constantly. Lee was brash and rude to everyone else, but not you. You held a special place in his mind. Making sure you always got the best classroom supplies, saving a seat for you during any assembly or meeting, so when you mentioned how fun you thought the conference sounded he was not going to let the opportunity escape his grasp.

Sure he made sure that you both were the ones that got picked— who cares? Most of the lousy teachers hate going anyway.

Lee fell back onto the bed. Stretching against the semi-firm mattress. You stared as you slowly walked fully into the room. Closing and locking the door behind you. Standing with your bag still clutched in your hand. Not sure what needed to happen.

“Do you want me to call the front desk or something?”

Lee laughed, turning his head to look at you, “Every hotel in a twenty-mile radius is booked for the weekend. I doubt they have any extra rooms here. Might as well get comfy, sweetheart.”

Your face was flushed. Unable to stop scanning done his spread out body. Checking him out. Feet still firmly planted in the same spot.

“Are you just gonna stand there all night?” Lee questioned.

You shook your head no. Walking over and sitting your bags up on the table next to the bed. Lee’s eyes watched your figure walk directly in front of him. Staring at how your pants hugged your ass. Especially when you bent over to slip your shoes off. Trying to calm his stirring mind before there was a more physical showing of his affection for you.

You pulled your pajamas out of your suitcase. Throwing them over your shoulder as you walked over to the small TV stand against the wall. Laying them folded against the fake wood. Deciding to sit stiffly against the edge of the bed. Fear of overstepping on a work trip ringing in your ears.

Lee could sense how nervous you were. A deviation from the normal dynamic you had. You were usually more flirtatious and touchy with him. Normally sitting as close to him as possible. Legs pressed firmly into each other under a table. Lee’s hand would ghost up your thigh from time to time. Pulling heat to your cheeks as your whole body tingled.

Sometimes you would lean your whole body into him, pressing your lips against his ear. Whispering soft praises and promises to him. Lee would fight from firmly grasping your hips and holding you close. Hands hovering over your waist. Your words sending chills down his spine. Hazel eyes locking with yours, leaning forward as if he was going to capture you in a kiss. Too afraid to overstep while at work.

“Can’t you relax for five minutes? Jesus— we’re on a work trip. You’re throwing off my calm aura with your awkwardness,” Lee scoffed. Trying to get you to talk to him and enjoy your trip together. You shot a look over your shoulder at him. His eyebrow was cocked with a devious smirk written on his face.

“Watch yourself, Russell.”

There she was.

Lee could not fight off the toothy grin that crept over him when your sass challenged his. Crawling to be laying beside you, head at the edge of the bed so he could look at your face. You side eyed him unable to stop the smile that came when you met his hazel eyes.

“Anything specific you want to do tonight, sweetheart?”

“Just relax.”

…

You hugged your side of the bed. Practically hanging off the edge. One arm and leg hanging off the side so that you did not invade his space. Lee had his back to you. It was the wee hours of the morning. You were unable to sleep. Sharing the bed with the man you had the hots for was too much for you to rest. Arousal pooled inside you.

You rolled silently, trying to look at Lee’s sleeping figure. Watching his side rise and fall with each breath he took. Longing to curl up against his back with your arms draped around him. Toying with the part of him you craved most.

Suddenly, Lee tossed in his sleep. Rolling flat onto his back and blinking. Heavy lidded eyes darting over to you. Catching you staring. Immediately your face flushed with embarrassment. Being caught with your eyes locked on him while you should have been sleeping. A drowsy, toothy grin curled across his face.

“You’re such a fucking temptress,” Lee’s southern drawl swirled around his sleepiness.

“What?” You breathed out, not raising your voice above a whisper.

Lee propped himself up on his side, elbow holding his upper half. Long fingers curling as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Leaning his head closer to you, eyes looking up through his lashes.

“I— I didn’t— I’m sorry, Lee,” you fumbled, apologies forcing their way out of you.

Lee’s hand came up to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him. Hungry lips took yours. Butterflies fluttered throughout your torso. “Shut up,” Lee spoke between kisses. You nodded, arms wrapping around him pushing you closer. Lee’s hand met the small of your back, fingertips gripping the skin.

“It’s nice to finally get my hands on ya’,” Lee’s lips traveled down your jawline to your neck. Teeth grazing the gentle flesh, sucking and licking at it. One of your hands tangled in his hair. You melted into his touch. Lips against your skin feeling euphoric. Arousal overtook your nerves. Softly moaning when his teeth would graze your neck. One of Lee’s hands traveled down to your leg, hooking it around his hip. Grinding his growing erection into your aching core. You squinted your eyes shut enjoying the feeling of him.

“Why’d we wait so long to do this?” Lee questioned against your ear.

“Am I allowed to talk now?” You teased, cocking an eyebrow and smirk at him.

Lee smiled widely. Snickering under his breath at your sass. Adoring how you were able to joke back with him. Loving how your aroma took over his senses. How your soft flesh felt perfectly against his palms. Fingers squeezing your thigh, “I asked a question, didn’t I?”

You both giggled, locking lips together again. Your hands went down to tug at the band of his pajama pants. Desperate hands begging him to fuck you.

“Tsk tsk tsk,” he chastised you, “Didn’t your mama teach you manners?”

You glared at him. Lips pierced together as you watched him fighting his smile. You ran your hand around to his front, wrapping yourself around his member. Stroking him slowly, watching his face contort and eyebrows furrow as his jaw hung open. His eyes squinted shut when you twisted your wrist around it.

Your lips nipped at his jugular. Scent of his cologne taking over your senses. Almost sweet with a hint of cigarette underneath. Tongue coming out to lick up his neck, lips ending at his ear. “Will you fuck me, Mr. Russell?”

You knew what he wanted. Some semblance that he was the one in charge. Your desire for him pouring off your lips gently. Lee was a control freak, it was easy to stroke his ego.

Lee smiled, “There’s those manners.” His hands tugged your pajamas down your legs, hooking his fingers around your panties with them. Revealing you entirely to him. Fingers spreading your folds as he delved into you, curling a finger up inside you. Body rutting at the sudden feeling, hands gripping his shoulder. A moan falling from your throat.

“You’re so wet,” Lee praised as he stared down at where his finger entered you, “All this for me?”

You nodded slackjawed. Rolling your hips onto his hand. Grinding yourself against him. Needing something more.

Lee’s thumb came up and began pressing against your clit. “Are you seriously this horny?”

“Mm-hmp,” you moaned continuing your motions.

“Goddamit, me too,” Lee groaned seeing how you coated his finger. Pulling his digit from you, immediately tugging his own pants down his legs. Cock swollen and leaking as it bounced free. Gawking as you stared. Grabbing your leg and throwing it around his waist. Spreading you, head of his cock pressing into your entrance. You moaned at the feeling.

Lee sheathed himself fully inside you, the two of you harmonizing with your moans. Your arms wrapping around him as your forehead fell against his. Locking lips again as Lee slowly began to thrust into you. Finding a slower rhythm that suited you. Fingers dug into your thigh with a bruising grip as he fucked you. Devouring you in a kiss.

Lee’s finger found its place back on your sensitive nub, circling it. His name fell from you at his touch, being drowned out by moans between your kisses and sloppy sounds filling the room. “‘ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart. Wanted to kiss you and feel you. Never imagined it would be this good,” Lee smiled with a soft chuckle.

That familiar feeling deep in your gut was tightening. The way Lee’s cock perfectly stretched and filled you mixed with how his finger circled you perfectly had you approaching your edge. Lee nestled his face into your neck. Grunts and huffs filled your ears. Picking up his pace inside you.

A few more snaps of his hips and you were over your edge. Walls constricting around Lee’s member. Moaning and shaking in his grasp. Fluttering as your orgasm took over every inch of you.

“There you go, pretty girl. Feels so fucking good,” Lee praised with a kiss on your cheek. He savored the feeling of your tightening insides around his cock. Quickening his hips as he chased his own high.

“Can I cum inside you?” Lee mumbled looking up to make sure he got an answer. You nodded.

He shot hot inside you. Flushing his front against yours. Kissing you desperately as he rutted inside you. Arms wrapping around you as he held you close. Softly kissing you.

“Maybe you and I should share a bed more often,” Lee huffed, grinning at you.

You leaned up planting a kiss on his cheek.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! Sorry this took so long to post, but I’m happy to be back with some Lee Russell goodness! If you have any requests, my inbox is always open! //

{tags}

@boydcrowderapologist ~ @justme12200 ~ @toogaytofunctiondangit ~ @its-in-the-woods ~ @iwmflbb ~ @dichromaniac ~ @megangovier ~ @itsyellow ~ @hiddlebatchedloki (I love you guys)

[shinelikethunder]

so for the record i fully blame you for the fact that i'm watching supernatural for the first time in 10 years or so, but ALSO one of the things that is fundamentally crunchy and compelling about sam and dean's relationship, imo, is that it's a constant, unceasing power struggle that they are to varying degrees aware of but mostly won't admit to

(sam, particularly, i think most desperately wants to /win/ the power struggle for good while also being the least likely to admit that it's actually happening. dean's investment feels much more situational - he wants sam to go along with his plans in the moment but isn't necessarily that invested in Being The Boss Of Sam Forever, whereas i think one of sam's deepest and most shameful unrealized desires is for dean to submit to him permanently, and the place where i depart from most wincest shippers is that imo what makes that really juicy is that dean doesn't want to do that.)

anyway! some thoughts on a fandom i haven't really interacted with at all since 2011, just for you lmao

yes! tbh it's one of an entire subgenre of ships that hit real good for this exact reason: an equality that comes, not from both of them being wholesomely egalitarian and refusing to ever seek the upper hand on one another, but from them constantly being in a billion little squabbles and wrestling matches both petty and consequential, even as they're earnestly trying to negotiate conflicting needs. and none of it is ever even going to settle into a single fixed pattern, let alone result in a permanent and definitive "winner." they both have their expected roles in this dynamic, and they both constantly shift between chafing against those roles and embracing them and instrumentally leaning into them to get something else they want.

it's so pleasingly crunchy... yet another reason i cannot vibe with whatever's in the water right now that's driving people to stan either the ship or the characters by picking one brother to be The Woobiest Victim Forever. like. that's not just getting carried away with a temptation i otherwise understand, that is actively sucking the fun out! even when it's my favorite little rat in the Blorbo Studies Lab who's the designated woobie, the static designation is less fun than the sharp-elbowed version where they both get to #Transgress against each other.

(i think dean is subby in the sense of getting a HUGE kick out of situations where he can safely hand someone else the reins, and/or stop agonizing and just get an A in being the goodest boy in the world by finding out what will please someone else and doing it. but oh my god, any attempt to extend that dynamic into situations of genuine conflict or threat? yeah no, the exact constellation of responsibility issues (and free will issues, objectification issues, self-worth issues, etc) that make those kinks so potent also mean that if the fun game turns into a real encroachment... best-case scenario, he snaps into Amalgamated Macho Archetype defensive panic and is probably a blustering shithead to reassert control. if he initially goes along with whatever it is, for sam's sake or because lol what are boundaries, that is Much Worse. because it sets up this ticking time bomb, resentment buried underneath compliance, and that is going to very specifically bring his thermonuclear John Winchester Issues into the fray.)

[pepperpatrol]

As someone whose reading tastes includes a lot of fiction from like the 18th century I think some people need to get more comfortable with the fact that sometimes things they enjoy were made by people they would not want to be pals with. Sometimes people that are downright dogshit.

HP Lovecraft named his dog that but he also founded a genre of fiction I enjoy. The reason so many of Jane Austen's heroes became parishioners is because she herself was an evangelical. Hell for a more contemporary example I am *obsessed* with Dragon Age but I do not think David Gaider and I would have a very fun conversation. I have no desire to meet that guy he seems like an ass.

And like, when you're dealing with people who are still alive, yeah you have to engage with their creative output differently but admitting that you enjoyed American Gods is not actually a sin in need of forgiveness. Neil Gaiman turned out to be a real shithead. Honestly, so have a lot of people who were very successful and well known in the 80s. This is not the first revelation of it's kind and I doubt it will be the last.

I imagine there are probably a lot of other people who gained notoriety or fame in the same era that did some pretty nefarious shit. I'm glad we're doing better than openly admitting that hair bands in the 80s actively fucked their underage groupies and proceeding to do fuck all about that even though they are alive and not ashamed. It's good that we're acknowledging the fact that fame back then was also synonymous with women and a lot of these very famous men used that fact to have dubious sex with minors and other fans for YEARS and got away with it. I'm glad we are not letting them get away with it anymore.

But yeah. I do still listen to David Bowie music in the full knowledge that he had a well known 14 year old girlfriend slash groupie for so long that she actually stopped being underage while she was a groupie. I probably am going to continue to read my copies of Neil Gaiman's works when I feel like it. I can't unbuy what I already have and it's artistic merit isn't actually lost because of what we now know about him. This is not the same as JK Rowling who we're trying to de platform bc she's founded a hate group. Am I going to be excited for any future drivel from Mr. Gaiman? Fuck no. Am I going to buy anything ever again? Hard pass. But the things his writing gave to me are still mine and honestly had very little to do with the guy himself.

[adimouze]

i appreciate your recent post. he’s still my blorbo too. i love the fact you’re pointing out if we could only love perfect people, we’d have no one.

i appreciate the dirlies (gn) because we seem to be one of the only fandoms in f1 who’ll hold our guy accountable when he’s out of line.

i think most of us should step back for a few days, let it simmer down. we’re disappointed and rightly so!! but let’s hope that his team learn from this, and he stops being (publicly, at least) seen with the guy.

still our blorbo, he’s just in timeout rn.

let me start this off by saying i think daniel made a shithead decision because once again. he’s a rich privileged white man who arguably never has to leave his comfort zone. he’s shown he’s willing to listen, like with lewis, but he’s also a man and a rich athlete and i never expect him to be a beacon of morality because my sense of morality is not borne from my parasocial relationships with famous people. that said what he and his team did is sucky. I’m disappointed and sad and I understand people saying they need a step back. I’m entering a very busy few months so inherently i’m already a bit less involved — i just miss daniel so i come on here to have fun. And even i’m like. God. You’re my blorbo and i love you but damn daniel. Be better.

But.

Insane to me as how many certain drivers fans are on here now saying they were so morally upright for dropping daniel but are stans of drivers who have done MUCH worse than simply cavorting around with a known racist podcast bro. Like PRESIDENTIAL levels worse. Literally none of these folks are good people.

@billscciardo did a wonder post here that everyone should read because I truly hate the standards daniel is held to is never repeated for others of the same elk. this is just commentary on how f1 fandom is currently operating as a whole like we dont see the same energy for “younger” drivers like we see for the vitriol against daniel. and the dirlies are always calling out daniel, we’re all aware that he’s flawed but i HAAAATEEEE people who stan drivers like lando and max and charles and just casually ignore that they aren’t their public images either. if we’re doing moral superiority it should apply to everyone. not just drivers you dont like.

[jinxtoyerekko]

Billy Hargrove x scary!gn!reader

Warning(s): racism, general bullying,

Also: I changed this a little so that Billy survived, they kinda left Neil behind somewhere, and he lives w Max and her mom now soOo. He's still kinda a shithead tho cuz old habits die hard.

Summary: You're new in town and boy did you get a reputation quickly. Almost quicker than Billy and he did not like that.

Feel free to request:

-------------------------

You had moved to Hawkins just the day before. You hadn't even talked to anyone besides your parents yet, but people already knew who you were.

(Y/n) (L/n), the new person who came from a place near Texas and moved to Hawkins from there thanks to some things going on back there.

You had lots of things going on in Texas. You fought with people, yelled a lot, were scary to most people, and just hated being in school, always arguing with teachers too.

But that wasn't why you had moved here. Your mother had chosen to move here since it was closer to your father's workplace. Not because of the fights you'd been in.

A sigh escaped you as you closed the door to your new room. You moved inside and decided to get changed.

You threw on some long, black denim pants before you pulled out a shirt from one of the many boxes. It was also black with 'Metallica' printed on it in red.

You stood at the window and looked outside. That's where you saw a blue Chevrolet 1979 Z/28 Camaro driving up to the house across from you. A girl with curly red hair got out, yelling something to the car before she closed the door and ran to the house.

The next person to get out was a man with blonde, even curlier hair. It was a dirty blonde. He also had a small beard just above his nose.

Your whole body felt cold when he looked up at you. You frowned lightly before you took a step away from the window.

"The fuck...", you mumbled to yourself before standing in front of your mirror to brush your hair. You sighed as you looked at yourself, turning slightly to see if anything was dirty.

It wasn't.

You made your way downstairs and went to put in your shoes. "I'm going on a walk."

Your mother came to you before looking at you with a bit of worry. "Like... like that? Are you sure? (Y/n), you already don't have a good reputation."

You looked up at your mother with a slight frown. "Leave me alone. It's not my fault that they all are assholes."

Your mother was quiet before she nodded and whispered a soft 'okay' before you made your way outside.

Exploring Hawkins wasn't exactly interesting. The shops were pretty boring at the Starcrout mall, and the school or community pool weren't exactly something for you either.

You looked around in front of Starcourt, arms crossing since you didn't exactly see anything you really liked. You preferred Texas over this and not just a bit.

You were pulled out of your little headspace when someone ran into you and pushed you forward lightly.

You turned around to see a brown haired boy who was much shorter than you were. "Watch where you walk.", he said to you as he laughed together with his friends.

You clenched your jaw, but let it be, taking in a deep breath to calm your nerves. You didn't need to disappoint your mom on your second day in Hawkins.

You walked off and eventually found your way to the lake in Hawkins. And finally you had found a place that was calm and quiet.

You smiled lightly and walked to the lake, pulling off your shoes to touch the water with your feet. "Finally."

Ever since that happened, it'd been a week. You finally had your first day in school and boy were you horrified.

It wasn't that you were scared of the people. You just weren't entirely ready to take anyone. You would fight if necessary, of course, but you hoped and prayed that you could control yourself enough so it won't happen. After all, it'd only worry your parents more.

You took a deep breath as you stepped out of the car, though you were stopped by your mom saying your name.

"(Y/n)... have fun. And... don't let anyone provoke you, okay?", she said. You looked at her for a moment before nodding softly. "I won't, thanks, mom."

She nodded and gave you a small wave before you closed the car door and walked towards the school. It wasn't a very tall building, as it had only one floor and the basement. But you already knew that.

You checked the paper in your hands for the room and then made your way to look for it. And you found it, but in front of it stood two boy and a girl.

The girl was the one you'd seen getting out of the car the day you properly moved in. One of the boys was the one you ran into at Starcourt who told you to watch where you're going.

The third one was unfamiliar to you. He had dark skin and black hair with brown eyes. It almost looked like he was trying to protect the girl.

You walked a little slower to listen in on the conversation, even if it wasn't entirely a good idea since eavesdropping wasn't exactly nice.

"Oh shut up, Mayfield. Lucas asked for it. Not my fault his parents didn't stay where they came from.", the boy who'd ran into you said. That statement by itself already made your blood boil.

"And don't try to fight me on it. Your brother can't defend you here, little girl.", he continued and by then you stood by then and cleared your throat. "I have to go through."

All three of them looked at you. You first looked at the girl, then at the boy. The brunette eyed you up and down before scoffing softly. "You're that guy from starcourt."

You took a deep breath and looked at him. "Yes, I am. But I still need to go through. I want to get to class."

He laughed softly and stepped up to you. "Do you even know who you're talking to?"

You looked into his eyes, with nothing but emptiness within your own. No fear, no anger, no worry, no sadness. Not even happiness. Just pure nothing. "No, but I don't care either. Let me pass and leave the damn kids alone."

The boy was shocked at how monotone your voice was but it didn't take him long to just walk off to his own class.

You rolled your eyes but as you were about to go past them the girl stood in front of you. You looked at her confused and raised a brow. "Yes?"

She sighed softly and looked at the boy who you learned was called Lucas before looking back at you. "Thanks."

You looked at her for a few seconds before giving a small smile. "No problem."

The day went by pretty calmly. No one started a fight with you, and no one tried to bother you. That was until the lunch break came.

You took your food and made your way into the hall, looking around if there were any free tables, but there really weren't. You stopped when you saw the girl from earlier look your way and wave at you.

You sighed and made your way over, greeting her with a small wave and she smiled lightly. "Guys. This is (Y/n). They're really cool. Right, Lucas?"

She looked at the male beside her, who nodded lightly. "And super scary." She nudged him lightly, but you only laughed at this. "I'm only scary if the person deserves to be scared."

Eventually, everyone introduced themselves to you. You sat by them and ate while listening to them talk. You found what they said to be very interesting.

They first talked about what kinds of music they listened to, so you pretty much knew all their music tastes. Then it went over to free time activities, so you were pretty informed on that part, too.

You soon finished eating and brought your stuff away. As you were returning to the group, you suddenly felt something wet spread all over your head and down to your pants.

You turned to see the guy from earlier again, but this time, he had a bottle of mountain dew in his hands. Soft gasps and loud laughs were heard as you clenched your teeth harshly.

You took off the rings you wore to make it fair. "You motherfucker.", was all you said before you stepped towards him and punched him straight in the face.

He stumbled back before he went in to attack you, too, launching a strong punch against your stomach. You coughed for a moment before jumping at him and pushing him down onto the floor.

The two of you wrestled with one another before you were finally pulled apart by some teachers. By then, both your nodes were bloody, and he had a black eye from you. You also had several bruises and scratches on you.

Both of you were taken to the principals office, and after everything was talked through, you were allowed to leave. Aka you had to go home while the school called your parents. But you didn't.

Instead, you sat yourself at a sunny spot by the school and relaxed a little while drinking some of the tea you'd brought from Texas.

After a while of sitting there, you heard the bells ring and decided to pack up and make your way home.

As you were packing up, Max spotted you and decided to run towards you. "(Y/n)! What happened? You were gone and suddenly I see you beating Jason up like he insulted your family."

You stood slowly as you looked at her, throwing your bag over your shoulder to carry it. The two of you walked towards the parking spots slowly. "It's... well... He didn't exactly insult me. He decided to pour a bottle of mountain dew over me. Now I'm all bloody and sticky." You complained softly, not really caring about the bloody part since that was your fault and you were used to it already.

Max nodded softly and pat your shoulder as she smiled. "It'll be okay. Next time just tell one of us, okay?"

You laughed and looked at her. "And what are you gonna do? Fight him for me? No way."

She chuckled softly. The girl looked towards a car, that blue camaro, before she looked at you. "You live across from us, right? Need a ride?"

You thought for a moment before nodding softly. "I'd love a ride. But maybe asked the person who's driving first."

Max sighed and nodded lightly. "Wait right here."

You nodded at her command and waited patiently as she walked to the car and spoke to the guy leaning on it. It was the guy you'd made eye contact with that day you first slept here.

He really has beautiful eyes. You thought as you stared at the two. You quickly looked away, though, when said male looked your way as if he wanted to kill you.

Him and Max seemed to argue for a moment before she walked towards you again and grabbed the sleeve of your shirt. "Cmon. Since you live across from us, he said it's cool as long as nothing gets dirty."

You looked down at yourself before looking at her again. "If I bleed on something, I'll clean it up. I promise."

You both laughed before making your way towards the car again.

Max sat in the back with you, laughing and talking to you. You tried to be as calm about it as possible, but the eye contact you had with her brother now and then made your guts twist in a weird way.

Once you were there, all of you got out of the car. You said thanks before giving Max a small side hug and then making your way over to your house. You unlocked the door and got inside.

You had exactly a second to breathe before your mother came running to you, clearly worried. "Oh baby!" She went to hug you tightly.

You turned your head away and sighed. "Mom, please..."

"What happened? The school said you were let off early. Why are you here so late? And why are you so sticky? Is it all the blood?"

You sighed and took your mother's hands. "Mom." , you started sternly so she'd listen. "I came home a little latet because I wanted to take a break before walking home. My friend offered that her brother could take me home too."

You paused for a moment before continuing. "During lunch break a guy poured mountain dew over me to annoy me and I lost it. So no, the blood isn't what's making me sticky. It's the drink that got poured over me."

Your mother seemed to relax just mildly as she gently held your hands close. "I'm so sorry, (N/n). Go take a shower and get changed, okay? I'll take care of your bruises afterwards."

You nodded softly and went upstairs to your room. You put your things away before taking a towel and going to take a shower in the bathroom that was right next to your own.

You hurried up to get yourself clean before you made your way back to your room, wrapped up tightly in the towel.

You walked up to your window to close the curtains but stopped for a moment when you saw Maxs' brother, standing at his window without really doing anything beside smoking.

You frowned lightly. And again, it happened. You noticed your stare and looked up at you. This time, you didn't look away.

You stared at each other for a minute, then two and then three. At first the stare was cold, from both sides, but eventually both of your stares went soft since glaring at someone was kinda annoying and hurt eventually.

You shrieked when your door opened and your mom came in. You closed the curtains before breathing out. "Mooom!! You scared me!"

Later that day, your mom came into your room while you were reading wuietly to yourself. She smiled at you before speaking up. "Hey, angel. There's someone at the door for you."

You raised a brow at her and stood up to go downstairs. At the door, you saw Max, smiling when she saw you.

"Hi, Max."

"Hi! So... we're meeting up at Steves place. Wanna come along?"

You thought for a moment, seeing her brother sitting in the car. You swallowed before leaning towards Max lightly. "Is he coming along?" You asked as you nudged your head towards him.

Max looked at her brother before nodding. "Yeah, Billy is coming along. But only because the adults get to drink alcohol."

You laughed softly and raised a brow. "Really? Wow, how nice. Well... sure. I'll come along. Give me a few minutes, I need to get ready."

She nodded and went to the car, where she got inside and spoken to her brother.

After about 10 minutes, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Your hair looked the same it always did but you wore somewhat different clothing today.

Of course, you stayed all black, but your jeans were extra tight, and your shirt was a little shorter than usual. And on top of that, you took a grew hanky, which you put into your back packet happily, simply because you'd seen Eddie do it and it looked cool.

You were also aware of the meaning, but your pansexual ass could not care any less who comes to flirt with you. As long as they're old enough and kind, you were happy.

You quickly picked up some things you needed before saying bye to your parents. "I don't know when I'll be back, but if I stay at someone else's, I'll call."

After that, you ran to Billys car and went to sit in the back, again together with Max.

"Everyone ready now?", Billy asked, and you could feel your body growing goosebumps from how hot his voice sounded.

"Yes."

"Took long enough."

At Steves house, you were welcomed by music playing from inside. It wasn't the usual booming music from these parties around Hawkins. Instead it was rather nice music. Actually good music.

You followed Max and Billy inside, greeting everyone before sitting with the older people. This included Steve, Billy, Eddie, Nancy, and Robin. Later on, you found out that Jonathan would join some time later since he still had something to do.

You guys were in a separate room, but now and then, someone went to check on the kids. Especially when they went quiet.

Around 10 pm, some kids were asleep, others just had some small talk. By then, you already had one or two beers and weren't exactly steady on your feet anymore.

You were pretty sensitive to alcohol so it was no wonder. When the others went to swim in the pool, you sat at the edge, only being allowed to stay with someone at your side.

Steve said he'd watch you for a while, holding you up and talking to you to make sure you wouldn't feel alone or anything like that.

"So, I'm sorry, but I just can't not ask. These rumors about why you moved here. Are they true?", he asked to which you shook your head.

"Nope. I moved here because of my dad. Not cuz I got kicked outta school.", you murmured softly as you looked at the male in the water. "My dad got a new workplace, and Texas is too far away, and Hawkins was the closest without being too expensive."

Steve nodded softly as he moved out to sit beside you. "I see. Well... it was pretty cool how you beat up Jason."

You smiled and nodded lightly. "Thanks."

The two of you were intruppted by Billy approaching the two of you. He pat Steves shoulder before sighing. "Your boyfriend is in desperate need of you."

Steve laughed and got up slowly. "Alright. Be nice to them, Billy.", he said before walking off to where Eddie was.

For a few minutes, the two of you were quiet until you spoke up, without thinking of what the consequences might be. "You have pretty eyes. They remind me of salt water. And my favorite pool back in Texas."

Billy looked over at you with a slight red hue on his cheeks before he scoffed softly. "Well... yours aren't as bad either. Pretty soft for someone who's feared everywhere."

You cackled at what he said, not even knowing why you found it to be so funny. "Well...", you looked at him. "I do go soft for certain people."

The two of you looked at each other for a moment. It took a moment for you both to get soft again, but it happened. This expression of pure adoration in eachothers eyes.

"You're not as scary as people say you are."

"Neither are you."

And at that moment, something in your chest twisted and made you feel all warm inside. You had no idea what it was and why it was there, but you didn't complain. You liked it.

"I like you.", you said as you tilted your head lightly.

Billy laughed and looked away again. This time, he was more than red. "I like you too."

[dissvicious]

Redbomb triplets trivias

Next friday if I manage my time correctly, the nine first pages of Daddy's Treasure, my webcomic about Buggy's offsprings, will be published on this blog. The panels are almost done, they juste need some shading & lettering.

To keep you waiting, have this trivia post about the Redbomb triplets

Blaze

As we stated many times before, he's stupid. Dumby dumbass, 0 braincell. Can't write his own name correctly. But ! He actually beat his siblings when it comes to emotional intelligence. Seing someone they love crying, Rory would sigh in annoyance, Skye would punch their shoulder playfully before trying to change the subject to something more lightly, but if you cry in front of Blaze you'll soon have a little redhair gremlin glued in your arms hugging you warmly (good luck getting rid of it)

Basically a golden retriver with extra ADHD. If he decides that he likes someone he will not go away from them.

Even if this person actually want him to go away, tho.

He's a biiiiiiig mama's boy, he's always glued in his mother arms.

Sometimes he put his hair in ponytail and try to make a resting bitch face to imitate Rory, which makes laugh everyone (except Rory)

Skye

Due to Reddie being a former strawhat, the crew is like extended family to the triplets.

Zoro and Skye get along well, Zoro teaching her a thing or two with swords.

In fact, it's possible, really possible, that Skye had a HUGE childhood crush on him - you know, those innocents crushes kids can have on cool teens around them sometimes.

Zoro was totally oblivious of it, of course.

"Hey look she offered me another drawing" (Nami tries to not giggle seeing her crewmate holding a kid drawing picturing Skye and Zoro in a flower field with swords) "Guess I'm the coolest babysitter huh ?" (It's really hard for Nami to not burst into laugh right now)

During a family dinner, after being babysitted by the strawhats, Skye didn't stop talking about Zoro - how fun he was, how skilled he was with swords etc etc.

Reddie playfully asked her "Hey, you're in love or what ?" and she made this exact face :

"He's gay, and he's an idiot. Don't waste your time." Rory said, not looking up from his dishes, making everyone around the table pretty much incomfortable for a moment.

Reddie had to explain the concept of childhood crush to Buggy because he was already ready to storm the Straw Hats for breaking his little tinkerbell's heart.

Later when this silly crush faded away, she understood she just admired swordmen and wanted to gain skills with blades

Probably understood that Zoro was effectively gay, too.

She started being glued to Mihawk whenever Buggy took her at work - pretty much to Mihawk displeasure, tho.

Rory

So we know that Rory get along well with Crocodile and with Shanks

The fact that it pisses off his father a TON make it even more enjoyable to him.

He actually seems to take great pleasure in sympathizing with people his father despite the most.

His polite tone and the way he talks brutal truth 24/24 with placid glances tends to make adults laugh a lot when he's around.

Rory has a very strict mental hierarchy when it comes to his family / the people he lives with, from the person he respects the most to the person he respects the less it would be : Himself, Reddie, Skye, Alvida, Buggy, the whole crew, Richie, Blaze.

But don't get it wrong, he loves his brother !

... in his very weird kind of way, though

While one of Rory's favorite hobbies is to fight with his brother and make him feel like an idiot, he would never let anyone else doing so.

Rory (rolling eyes) : Blaze you could become the richiest boy on earth if you rented the space between your ears.

Some crewmember : Aha you got it kid, your brother really is an idiot !

Rory (jumping on his feet, a hand on a smokebomb, ready to fight) : WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL MY BROTHER, SHITHEAD ?!

[lumsel]

Reviews of movies I watched on Qantas flights this week

Poor Things: I expected this one to be more harrowing, actually. I got that vibe from what I heard about it? It's more like a weird fairytale about sex and sexuality though. I am good friends with @utilitymonstergirl of Replacable Parts though so that may be skewing my baseline for what most people consider a shocking lmao. I like how totally blase it is about its own problematic elements, it never blinks or tries to justify itself in any way, it just goes "lmao check this shit out". Refreshing in a moment that feels marked by overbearing didacticism in media. Not to say this movie doesn't have a very clear Point, mind you, which is basically "stop being weird about sexuality", but it tells that Point with a level of focus and confidence that I find satisfying.

Oppenheimer: There's a few seriously eye-rolly moments in here, like the one where he says the I Am Become Death line while his mistress is mid-insertion, but it's like a single digit number in a three hour movie. Very well paced too, it did not at all feel like three hours. I really like how it uses the language of film to get you understanding why Oppenheimer made the seemingly contradictory decisions he did during his career. When Oppenheimer is building a nuke, you're biting your teeth like "oh man, I hope Oppie builds this nuke in time!" And when he's trying to stop them from building more nukes, you're like "oh jeez, I hope Oppie can stop these nukes getting built!" Despite the expansive and star studded cast, this really does feel like a movie primarily interested in getting you to understand this one dude specifically, and I really respect it for that.

That One DnD Movie: Fun!!! It's a little jank, and the exposition can feel clunky, but it was a fun movie overall. God, though... the second act sucks so much ass. I feel like this happens a lot in movies, where the first and third acts are where the substantive parts of the narrative happen, but the second act feels like the plot is spinning its wheels while we set up the climax. This one is particularly bad where the cast just takes a sidequest in the middle of the movie to grab some inconsequential artefact and nothing that happens in that sequence matters particularly much. Anyway, fun as this movie was, I almost forgot entirely to add it to this list of reviews, which probably

Anatomy of a Fall: Yeah this was good. Very good-movie coded, like the foreign films I always see my mum and dad watching when I'm cleaning up after dinner at their place. I feel I don't even have much to say on this one because it basically just executed everything it was trying to execute efficiently and without any jarring mistakes. You can tell from pretty early on that this is gonna be one of those stories where you never find out the Real Truth of what happened, although I found one of the sides to have a broadly weaker case and I'm not sure if that was intended.

Dream Scenario: Ultimately was disappointed by this one. Thought there was gonna be a multilayered metaphor underlying this one but it turned out to be a pretty shallow piece on social media fame framed around some dude who really wants to cheat on his wife. Let down by the synopsis, I spose. I think the constituent parts work at cross purposes and make the movie undermine itself a little: the kafkaesque surreal horror is harder to feel the depth of when the protagonist is so obviously a shithead, but the unsympathetic protagonist is less compelling when the things that happen to him are an inexplicable nightmare scenario rather than his own decisions taking him down a dark path. There'd be a way to make it work but honestly I don't think this movie was pretentious enough to pull it off. It needed to be willing to get weirder and harder to parse with it rather than keep everything so broad and crowd-pleasing.

TMNT Mutant Mayhem: I liked a lot of things about this movie. The pacing is fantastic, and I found the character writing to actually be quite good. I actually found myself quite liking the density of pop culture references, because yeah, that's how teenagers talk. Makes it feel more real. And the animation. I'm glad more animated movies are incorporating actual fight choreography these days because it fucking whips every time. Unfortunately it really fell apart by the end for me because the pacing gets janked up to hell and it starts cramming in way too many unearned character moments. Something about it got kind of unbearable for me personally, I just stopped watching the movie.

Labyrinth: Technically a rewatch, but last time I saw this one I was like single digit aged. Thoroughly it despite it being structurally a mess. It's basically just Jim Henson's Creature Shop coming up with various Situations to put our protagonist into, threaded together in a very loose framework of a plot. The lead is not that good at acting, the jokes rarely made me laugh out loud, and yet! I was smiling the whole time through. There's an interesting contrast to the DnD movie for me, where that one has a fine first act, an awful second act, and a fine third act with divisions between them so sharp you can hear a clunk when the gears shift, Labyrinth is pretty much 80% second act, with a bit of intro at the start and a quick bit at the end to wrap it up. Makes it feel like a very storybook fairytale type of story, and I love that for it! And, unlike the DnD movie... I don't think I'm likely to forget I watched this one a week from now :P

[catboyklug]

sam & max hcs

title

this is specifically for sam & also max bc im most confident w my interpretations of them but once i play & finish tdp i'll make a post for every single other character .

quick disclaimer that this is for my sorta-AU thing where i make sense of the games and cartoon and comics by saying that each was an autobiographical (or just biographical) piece of media that they signed their rights away to. the comics were more or less exactly what happened, the cartoon was scripted half the time (with the bad day on the moon episode actively having been staged) and the games are more or less 1:1 to what happened except for the occassional references to them being. games.

also this isnt a totally exhaustive list

sammy

canon to get it outta the way: he's black, bisexual, autistic and might be trans & objectum (i hc him to definitely be the last two lmao) . i hc he has Narcissistic Traits tee em and also might have OCD

he started developing arthritis in his 20's, which was made only worse by his horrible posture due to his career path of Massive Fucking Nerd. though he fixed his back posture-wise by the time he formed the freelance police, he still is in a lot of pain near constantly.

even when he makes jokes, he wants to be taken seriously at all times. he wants you to laugh at his cleverness, not at the fact that you find him inherently funny. he tends to take this a bit far sometimes, which is part of one of the many reasons as to why he treated max so terribly in the early telltale games

since he was a pup he's tried to hide the fact he's bisexual, even if he's completely normal abt max being out as gay and doesn't see an issue with it in any sense of the term

he really wanted to be an engineer for years, but the intense sexism of the field, a desire to stick around with max, and the fact that other jobs would pay him better lead him to abandon the thought

though he wouldn't mind having children, he doesn't actively want them as much as max does. this doesn't mean he dislikes children at all, though - he actually likes them more than max does, at least conceptually

not too long after the cartoon's release, he lost contact with most of his family, excluding ruth. this was fully intentional on his part: max's refusal to talk to his family except at gatherings he stole food and drugs from inspired him to take more control of his life and contact with people he's related to

he sort of wants to grow his hair out again, but isn't sure what style to get... (i like drawing him w afros though)

completely opposite to max's feelings, sam feels a strictly familial or platonic attraction to lumpy. and platonic being based offa that plato fun fact is very very definitely relevant here i think (im sorry)

if he went with any other job, it'd have to be letterist, full stop. he has several styles of handwriting and they're all gorgeous

he's a super sweet, incredibly silly drunk, and lets himself relax and show more of his dog mannerisms when drunk enough (thank you celebrity poker 2 i love you)

maxamillion

canonically a narcissistic psychopath who might have schizophrenia. its ok i can reclaim him<333 (no i cant but my partner can) he also has a horrible family life but his family stuck together out of mutual hatred and a desire to reap society's rewards for the nuclear standard

this horrible shithead has prolly claimed to have every physical disability at some point but he's only been diagnosed w/ hypermobile joint disorder / ehler-dahlos

in the more modern time of 2024, he usually sticks to only mocking people for things that are a. traits he shares with them or b. actually disturbing, inhumane or generally Yucky

he's wanted kids for years, which is why he's constantly not-so-subtly mentioning it.

he's a deeply unprofessional drag queen AND drag king and loves playing around with both sides of the coin. he also does drag creature stuff but that's just how he normally looks so!

thanks to the autism and schizophrenia he's very touch averse. the only people he really wants touching him are sam (and sometimes, maybe, rarely, flint paper)

to say that he doesn't have any familial affection for lumpy is understating it. he uses lumpy as his personal (and fully consenting) stimtoy whenever he feels like it, regardless of where or who might see 'em.

he sometimes pretends he's still president to make people do stuff for him. this only works on sam though

though he's physically capable of handwriting so gorgeous it rivals sam, he saves that for the disgustingly cheesy, 'anonymous' love letters he sends him every year or seven

he's a mainer. a mainiac if ya will. grew up closer to the south and he's got some relatives from mass so he's got that masshole/bostoner accent. he's usually good at hiding his accent, but it's obvious when you ask him to say shit like "clam chowder" and "lobster" and "fish"

though he hates most country music, he still loves johnny cash

HES A SYSTEM BTW!!!!

botha them

they invented paralell play. sam w his computers and his papers and max with his drawing and stabbing the desk until it looks like a modern art piece

they're both extremely jealous of other people, but somehow have both missed that. sam's worried he's too jealous and overprotective, while max thinks he could stand to be a little more obsessive

one of their favorite things to do together is go to the comic book store and laugh at how horrible their childhood favorite comics have gotten (or always were)

every wedding shown is canon in some way, but around the telltale games sam started thinking they were just 'ironic' and 'a joke' and etc. despite the EXTREMELY high budget each had. he knows better now

max's whole "not making fun of anyone unless they're enough like him (or suck)" actually extends to sam as well. he's more than fine with making fun of someone bc they're fat or whatever despite the fact he clearly isn't. this is MOSTLY because he keeps forgetting he and sam don't share every single experience.

though sam is against drinking as a whole, the two sometimes go out to horribly shitty bars to get the worst in junk food & beer. every time they do, max happily proclaims that it was the best date EVER.

max almost likes sam's singing, sometimes, but this is usually only because he just really likes sam's voice

neither of them know how to use modern technology. when one finds out a single way a single program or feature works, they excitedly show the other like they just found the missing link between humans and neanderthals or whatever

sam helps with max's injections since max really seriously can't handle needles. it's the worst for the both of them, but the treats and snacks and ten-hour-long movie binges after help with the fear

generally speaking, max can get up and out of bed any time from around 6 to 13. sam gets up at 6:30 or 7:45 exactly every day, which means he usually makes breakfast if he feels up to cooking.

other than the aforementioned horrible bars, they have a lot of 'weird' date locations, like the dog park, the local sewer system, hell, etc.

yeay

[clairethecutepup]

It's never fun when you have to remove yourself from a fandom, is it…? It's even less fun when you know it's because of YOU yourself. Of course, I'll still make content based on what it is, as you can still enjoy the official material and making stuff of it; “leaving a fandom” just means you refrain from engaging with other fans and their content, excluding any polite responses when spoken TO first.

I mean, I don't want to stop enjoying others’ content because they all made such great fanfiction and fanart of it all… But, it really is probably for the best with all of us. I honestly seemed to have caused most, if not all, to dislike me in one way or another. Not to say I doubt they have their reasons, to be fair about things. I mean, for one thing, I'm starting to think I was banned from “its” subreddit because simply neither me nor my own fan-content was wanted there. After all, I don't recall doing anything that violated terms nor ever harassing others, and I haven't heard back from the moderator in about a week or so to detail things-- nor any insight from anyone else. 

Although, I find one criticism against me a bit unfair: being a “bootlicking shithead” just for making fanart of a mutual’s/friend’s fanfiction series and liking their work a whole lot. What can I say? It generally intrigued me and I wanted to help promote it, especially when it caused said friend/mutual unfair grief from the other fandom that work was directed toward: let's just say, content-policing was involved and other harassment for pairing an “aro-ace” character with someone… even though it's supposed to be an “alternate universe” from the actual game.

As for why it's the best for myself: although I really do love all the fanart and stories people made of the franchise in question, I just can't seem to shake my feelings of inadequacy and fear my praise toward those works just comes off as more annoying “bootlicking” to people.

Oh well, that fandom is starting to become dead anyhow… Sad as it is. But hey, like I said, I can still make content, regardless of everything.

PS: Do NOT ask me what fandom I’m talking about, I made this to get it off my chest and feel a bit better.

[chiharuhashibira]

dude you and that anon are so wholesome LMAO i’m at work rn and their comment abt hoping work goes well is so real 🗣️

and since i’m in the mood to hop on the kaigaku request train (if you don’t mind it ofc) can i get canon divergent headcanons of what would happen if kaigaku still became a demon but continued fighting in the corps? maybe bc his S/O exists and he managed to make some friends or smth and he ends up not being well. as morally cringefail as he is in canon. like he’s still a snarky shithead (/affection) but becoming a demon kind of changed his outlook on life when he has to make a crucial choice y’know? hope this makes sense LOL anyways keep up the great work

Sorry if I took so long in writing your request >.&lt; But as promised~ Here are my Kaigaku creations hihi ^^

Thanks @samnook for the request 🌸

Also, I wanna tie this up with my other Kaigaku creation sooo here it is!

𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

𝑴𝒚 𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫: 𝐊𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐤𝐮

Content Warnings: Curse Words and a bit Suggestive

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

If you want a semi backstory, read this first:

If you want it to be like no backstory and you're unaware of his past, read this:

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

🌸𝑲𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒌𝒖🌸

❥ Kaigaku has turned into a demon, a mistake that he had made before. But that doesn't stop him from working at the Demon Slayer Corps to repent for everything that he did in the past. He wanted to help other people and stop others from committing the same mistake as he did. He had managed to free himself from Muzan's grasp and you may wonder why? It's all because of his love for you.

❥ Kaigaku is still cocky as fuck sometimes. If he wouldn't be, then who is he? But then you managed to create a certain balance within him, despite all his moral dilemmas. The Demon would usually soften up when he saw you in his missions, making him want to protect you more than ever now that he has more power to do so.

❥ And when we say power, we mean it. Kaigaku's powerful, and thankfully, he's using it for the Corps and not against you all. A part of you is sad that Kaigaku would eventually see you get old and eventually die, but that's what life is. You're sad that he chose to be a demon before, but you're also happy that he's trying his best to do lots of great things despite being one.

❥ You will sometimes see Kaigaku doing some weird-ass contest with other slayers for fun, even if he knows he will win. This usually makes you smile, as somehow your lover starts to have his own group of friends. Unlike before, when he was too busy in his own world.

❥ Kaigaku seems to be wiser now. With the way he speaks and deals with problems. He's a demon, but he makes sure to resolve things as fast as possible now that "We don't have much time." He has all the time in the world, but he still doesn't want you to feel alone.

❥ And yes, when we say fights, we mean that Kaigaku could kill other demons in one slash before they could even touch you. He's protective and very loving. You know that. So, at the end of the fights, he would usually be the one who gained wounds.

❥ He clearly knows that he could heal those wounds in one instant, but Kaigaku would let them on his body because of two things. The first is because he wants to feel human again. He kind of misses that. The second is because he wants you to take care of him.

❥ A demon lover also means that he's active at night. And when we put night and activity together, it'll definitely end with you screaming in pleasure as he shows you how much he has missed you.

❥ You love Kaigaku so much, despite all his flaws. So even if you know that you're weaker than him now, you still do your best to protect him and make him happy. You will sometimes find yourself sitting on the engawa with him, just looking at the stars after a long night.

"Do you miss it?" "Miss what?" "The sun?" "Oh that. Yes."

❥ Kaigaku would often be saddened because he couldn't watch the sunrise and sunset with you now, even if he wanted to.

❥ You would often end up embracing your demon lover and soothing him, sharing his dream to see the sun once again.

❥ But of course, one day, you'll never know if a cure will come and your lover will finally come back to you in his original form. All you feel now is too much love for Kaigaku. As long as you're here, you'll definitely keep him together and away from the demonic things he sometimes wants to try.

=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=o=

𝑨𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒐 𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒂-𝒔𝒂𝒏~

Thank you for reading this Kaigaku HC ^^ Hope you enjoyed it!

I'll reveal a little secret. So my brain is sleepy and my reading comprehension became crazy so... at first, I wrote a headcanon with a drama for Kaigaku like a story where he has dilemma because his lover was the demon slayer who will kill him or something!

But yeah, if you're lucky I might release it too HAHA!

ANYWAYS, THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN AND FEEL FREE TO CHECK MY OTHER FICS 💓 LOVE YAH ALL!

~𝓒𝓱𝓲𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓾-𝓬𝓱𝓪𝓷🌸

[grishaverse-chaos]

The Darkling

why I like them: could have been SO GOOD in theory okay? I will never shut up about this because "character who everyone thinks is evil is actually just the victim of a smear campaign and some really bigoted propaganda" is SUCH a good character concept and I wish darkling fans were right about him because it would be so fucking cool and aesthetic

why I don't: he uh. he isn't that. he could have been so fucking iconic and instead he was just a vicious murderer. who grooms teenage girls.

favourite episode/scene: LOVE the bit where alina stabs his hand in s1e8. tbf that's more of a fav alina moment than anything else lmao, let me think... okay fr I love the "fine. make me your villain" scene bc it just really showcases who he is as a character and how he sees himself (hint: those two things are not the same)

favourite season/movie: imo he's better written in s1 of the show than in s2, idk though. and I do love his story in the kos duology lmao

favourite line: that one bit in rule of wolves where he says "everything I have done has been for ravka" because it's so clearly Not True and yet.... he clearly thinks it is.... so where does intent stop and impact begin...... it's deep okay

favourite outfit: purely for shits and giggles I'm going to say his black kefta in s2 where there's bits of gold bc I loveeee people being haunted by those they've wronged and I think alina haunting him really fits into that theme

otp: no thank you! in all honesty he prob could have been Fixed™ if he'd had a genuine relationship at an earlier age but he didn't so I refuse to inflict him on any other character. darkolai is interesting to consider though bc I feel like the ways they see themselves clash so heavily.... it's about self image and it's about villainy and law and justice and power and and and. they would Not be a good relationship but I think they should interact more for the Narrative

brotp: his sister ulla! they'd have such a fun sibling dynamic lmao I think it'd be sweet

headcanon: tbh I don't tend to think about him much beyond the big narrative stuff so I'm struggling to think of something that fits the genre of "headcanon".... but let's humanise him a little! I bet he reads really literary fiction and gets ever-so-slightly pretentious about it lmao

unpopular opinion: is it unpopular to say that despite his original good intentions he's a bit of a dickhead and not as smart as he thinks he is? in some corners of the fandom it totally is but idk

a wish: at this point there's not much more that could be done with his character beyond what's already been set up (him being mercy killed so he's not suffering in the thorn wood for all eternity) so I'm going to say that I hope his stans get better reading comprehension bc dear GOD some of the takes I see (posted in the alina tag btw I'm not deliberately seeking them out) are absolutely horrendous. is that too salty? perhaps. idc though it's my blog and darkling stans are free to block me if they don't like my takes

an oh-god-please-don't-ever-happen: I swear if he goes NEAR alina genya or zoya again I will reach through the fourth wall to kill him myself. only half joking btw I'd be so pissed. imo they've all had the closure they need narratively and for him to seek them out again would be a dick move of the highest degree

5 words to best describe them: used to have good intentions. that might be cheating but idk if I can pick 5 random adjectives lmao

my nickname for them: I call him darkles sometimes (bc it's funny and also I think it'd piss him off if people called him that in-universe) also a lot of less positive nicknames ("that prick", "shithead" etc) but idk if that counts