#because of Mardi Gras coming up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

uzumaki-rebellion · 1 month ago

Text

youtube

"I've got a Big Chief, Big Chief, Big Chief of the Nation

The wild, wild creation

He won't bow down

Down on the ground

Oh how I love to hear him call Indian Red"

Voices of a Nation – "Indian Red"

The Backstreet Bar used to be the spot Celeste's parents went to when they were young and lively in the nineties and before they started pumping out kids left and right. Near the French Market off Esplanade in the sixth ward, it became a shrine and the iconic hub for rhythm and blues.

All things Black and New Orleans culture-wise sprang from that bar in their neighborhood. When the owner Etienne King passed away, his widow Lesli King took over. The levees broke in 2005 and nearly washed away the people and history that gave the city its culture and flavor. But the people persevered until Lesli passed during Mardi Gras of 2010. Celeste remembered 2010 well because it was the first year she started sewing with her granddaddy Big Chief Harris Profitt of the Wild Treme Mardi Gras Indians.

Thirteen and full of spitfire energy and overzealous gumption, Celeste spent all year beading and sewing using her granddaddy's jeweler's loupe magnifier over her right eye. The intricate beadwork and patches she sewed and assembled to make her first Indian suit was a proud moment, not only for Celeste, but for that side of her family who ran up and down the streets hunting down other tribes to battle in verbal dexterity and showing off how pretty they looked in their Mardi Gras finery.

Her suit was a patchwork of dark purple, lavender, and white micro beads, feathers, and sequins. She showed the fuck out among her kin and her relatives started calling her by the nickname Duchess because she strutted so high and mighty in front of granddaddy's house while the neighbors waited for their Big Chief to come outside on a fine Mardi Gras morning to represent their downtown neighborhood in his fabulous three-dimensional African-inspired suit. No one in Treme ever called her grandfather by his first name. It was always "Big Chief", "Chief", or "Chief Profitt".

Proud to be a Wild Treme Indian, Celeste sewed a new suit every year as was custom. It was expensive, time-consuming, and a true labor of love. Her grandmother had worked as a seamstress for a dress shop and her grandfather was a welder like his father before him, and she absorbed those technical skills of sewing and shaping metal under their tutelage to transform Black Mardi Gras Indian regalia into wearable art. Sadly, she lost interest in making suits by the time she hit twenty-four and began designing the fancy second line parasols, fans, and baskets for several social aid and pleasure clubs instead. That extra source of income helped carry her for over four years. Sometimes on annual Super Sundays she'd re-purpose some old suits to play in with other Mardi Gras Indian tribes that came from all over the city to commune and show off in A.L. Davis Park. It made Big Chief happy to see her on those occasions, although he wanted his youngest grandchild to sew new suits again.

The test of a true Indian was to pour your passion and creativity into needle and thread to kill 'em dead with a new suit annually. Tribes frowned on recycling an old suit and considered it lazy work to don a suit people already witnessed you in. People came out looking for craftsmanship, originality, and style—lagniappe—a little something extra each year. She poured her creative flair into the overly decorated accessories for other people and made a nice coin doing it.

After Lesli died, Grand-mère, along with a cadre of old-timers, lamented that the history of their hood would crumble if the Backstreet Bar died. Grand-mère had been one of dozens of foster-children Lesli looked after over the years, giving some jobs working at the neighborhood bar. Eventually, Grand-mère and Big Chief took over the property instead of retiring when Celeste turned eighteen. It was the bar Celeste headed toward for Mardi Gras Indian practice with her family and tribe.

She didn't want to drive through downtown, but she became the designated driver for three of her besties. Lyfts and Ubers raised their prices during the holiday season and no one wanted to pay outlandish fees when they could look cute in her brand new muscle car. Cruising through the Garden District, she picked up two of her friends and headed down to the French Quarter. They didn't have to stop for food because Grand-mère provided free red beans and rice, fried chicken, and sometimes boiled crawfish and red rice at the bar. She hoped they had a nice spread tonight because her stomach growled and she needed heavy food to soak up the liquor she planned to consume.

Her ex boyfriend committed a flagrant foul that weekend by jumping the gun and telling everyone they had broken up before she was ready. She suspected he wanted to bring out his new woman openly so no one would beat his behind once she blabbed that he'd been running around on her. Truth be told, she was tired of his boring ass anyway, but the general principal of the matter was she wanted to be the first to bail and get her lick back during carnival. Now if she turnt up and shook ass extra hard, people would say she was overcompensating for getting dumped.

"Duchess, turn right…slow down…there's a spot about to open up."

"Where?" Celeste said to her friend Mercy, who sat shotgun.

Mercy pointed to the flashing hazard lights of a taxi. Celeste zipped into the tight spot and breathed a sigh of relief. There was nothing worse than searching for parking anywhere near the Quarter or within a one-mile radius in any direction during the carnival season. Mercy checked her smartphone.

"She's on her way out," Mercy said.

Celeste checked her face in the mirror. Although it was only a practice at the bar, she still wanted to look cute. Her giant Medusa locs were pulled back with a leather hair tie high on her head, and her eyeliner and ruby lip stick gave enough sexy unbothered vibes that made her feel confident. She had her girls, a stellar whip that she worked hard for, and time with her tribe to look forward to. Lately, it seemed like carnival festivities were the only way her family got together en mass. Carnival or funerals.

Their friend Joyce hustled out of a popular bakery in the Quarter carrying a box of the popular King Cake, a ring-shaped, hand-braided cinnamon infused dessert. The plastic covering on top showed off the tri-colored icing of gold, purple, and green.

"Hey, girl!" Celeste said as Joyce climbed in the back of the Charger. She gave air kisses to Nae Nae in the back.

"Whew! It's been crazy in there! Some people were mad they ran out of King Cakes that weren't pre-ordered. I am ready to cut up!" Joyce enthused.

Celeste checked her driver's side mirror and pulled out, heading around the narrow block. Clogged streets packed in the tourists, locals, and plenty of cops. She parked four blocks away from the Backstreet Bar and they all climbed out feeling giddy. Normally, Big Chief didn't allow outsiders or non-tribal members to attend Indian practice. But he made an exception that year to help her get over feelings about her ex. Freddie made being in Nawlins central intolerable. He knew everyone in her extended family because he was a police officer who had connections to a political family with high ambitions for him down the road. After their unceremonious break up, she moved into a cute little over-priced cottage far from him, and took an extra part-time job at a chicken processing plant with a goal of saving enough money to head out to California for an extended visit. Celeste had relatives in L.A. and could stay with them for a vacation. Getting away from the Big Easy would help build up a new positive lease on life. Or maybe she'd take a five-day cruise to Mexico. Anywhere was good, just as long as she could escape Freddie and go to a new world for a minute.

That man had wasted her time and love. She wanted to buy a large home and get married. Start a family. Months ago, she gave him an ultimatum that their relationship needed forward momentum and her finger needed a ring by New Year's Day. Cheating was his way of humbling her, and ironically, it brought her great relief. He made life feel stagnant and dull, proving unequivocally that he wasn't The One. She just didn't have the guts to leave first before having something lined up on the horizon.

A crowd of patrons gathered outside a corner in front of the Backstreet Bar, catching the pitiful breeze that attempted to blow through the escalating muggy heat while listening to the thumping music from inside. Celeste glanced at the exterior of the bar painted with colorful images of their tribe, Creole food, and two giant beer mugs clinking together. The name of the bar was graffiti painted above the front door that stood wide open. A "Closed Until 9 P.M." sign taped to the wall kept non-tribal members out for the time being, and a blank-faced bouncer, David, stood vigil on a metal stool.

"Hey David!" Celeste said.

"Duchess!"

David hopped off the stool and gave Celeste a big belly hug because his stomach lopped over his belt.

"I brought my friends to watch with Big Chief's permission. They won't be no trouble," she said.

David looked over the women, his beady eyes taking a liking to Joyce's plump frame.

"Alright now, go get y'all a plate before the good eatin' is all gone," David said to the group. His eyes stayed on Joyce the entire time.

Inside, the raucous shouts of men showered them with the energy of the packed bar and sucked them right into the fold. Family and tribal members were already cutting up, clapping and smacking tambourines in time to an internal beat that swelled throughout the room.

On a small stage across from the bar, a second line brass band made up of young men in their twenties carried the foundational rhythm the others followed. The musical frenzy, sweaty faces, and rocking bodies enveloped Celeste in the comforts of culture. Trumpets, a trombone, and a good faith tuba blasted the familiar jazzy sounds that New Orleans was famous for. Celeste rocked her shoulders, shuffled her feet with slick footwork, and sang the old-time Indian songs.

Joyce placed the King Cake on an open table near Grand-mère who stood regally watching the action. She hugged each one of them. Celeste eyed her father drumming on stage and glanced toward her mother, who mixed drinks at the bar.

It was good to be in the Treme.

She greeted familiar faces and asked "Who dat?" about folks she didn't recognize. Inundated with love and affection, Celeste settled in, bringing a playful zeal to her dancing. Her mother handed her a tambourine at the bar, and she hopped onto the dance floor behind her grandfather and tapped a churchy beat on her left palm. Onlookers who were guests ogled the rare treat of seeing a real deal Indian practice. Their tribe's Spy Boy, Darryl, waved a white handkerchief around, yelped in his warbled tone and pretended to see another tribe's approach. A play uncle named Man-Man started strutting as their Flag Boy and the boisterous sound of voices rose, singing louder than the percussive drum beats onstage. Celeste stayed close to her grandfather, listening for his calls to change the tempo at the drop of a dime.

The Big Chief's salt and a little less pepper hair sweated out into tight curls. His dark hickory brown face stayed bathed in a sheen of earned sweat. Eyes closed and listening for the spirit to arrive, Big Chief struck his tambourine once and hooted, his cries flying overhead and joined by a tribal call-and-response that bolstered his bringing down of the ancestors.

Celeste copied his tambourine strikes to aid in catching the spirit. In four days, the tribe would take to the streets, preening and daring another tribe to outshine them. Thankful for choosing to wear a white t-shirt tied at the waist and comfy jean shorts, Celeste danced, sang, shook her hips and felt the weight of the world lift from her shoulders.

Three hours rocked by with chants, foot stomping, and plenty of drinking.

Twirling to her left to show off for her friends, she took some time to eat and gulp down a rum and coke standing in front of the stage. She caught the eye of a man lingering near her right side. Despite the many faces in the bar that blended into a chaotic blur during practice, the stranger's eyes latched onto hers and she couldn't shake them away. He was one of them pretty boys with captivating light eyes and possibly good hair that most people thought Creoles were supposed to have. Celeste's family was bone-Black Creole, the darker kind that still spoke southern, creolized French.

The man stood near some of her male cousins, and God forbid, a childhood friend named Travis X who was a five-percenter and a member of the Nation of Islam. It was impossible to miss Travis's short, high and tight fade and big shiny teeth. Still lurking in the shadows next to Travis, peeping at her moves, Mr. Light Eyes boldly stared right back at her like she was supposed to be sucked up on a plate of hot crawfish and dirty rice Grand-mère served.

Big Chief nudged Celeste to join in on the closing song. Lifting her contralto voice to support her energetic grandfather, she belted out the first opening cry of "Indian Red"

"Madi cu defio, en dans dey, end dans day…"

Their tribe repeated the words like a field holler with a tinge of the blues until everyone was on one accord. They belted out the song that represented the core of their tradition.

"We are the Indians, Indians, Indians of the nation

The wild, wild creation

We won't bow down

Down on the ground

Oh, how I love to hear them call Indian Red

I've got a Big Chief, Big Chief, Big Chief of the Nation

The wild, wild creation

He won't bow down

Down on the ground…"

Tears welled up in Celeste's eyes while singing with her grandfather. The power of the words enveloped her like a cozy patchwork quilt. Big Chief was getting to the age where he would have to pass the torch onto his oldest son. It was quite possibly his last time leading the tribe. His age was catching up to what his body couldn't carry as well anymore. The heavy tribal suits could weigh over eighty pounds or more. She wanted to dance in the streets with him one more time before a shift took place. She heard the trembling in his voice…they all did. Everyone in that packed bar knew they were witnessing the closure of an era under his leadership. Her uncle Alston would be a capable chief, but Big Chief Harris Proffit was the only chief she had known representing her people since she was a baby. He was eighty-two. Time to hand down the baton.

The last note hung in the air and Celeste broke away, grabbed her smokes from her purse, and headed outside to clear her head. Big Chief didn't need to witness her sadness. He wasn't dying, just nearing retirement. But it felt like a passing on anyway.

Back on the corner and away from David, who allowed regular patrons to come inside since practice was over, Celeste opened up a pack of Newports and tried lighting a cigarette. She flicked her lighter. It flashed and petered out. She huffed, and the cigarette dangled from her lips. A sign from God to quit, probably. A spark of another lighter glowed under her bottom lip.

Travis had followed her outside. So did the stranger and a few other men from Travis's Hotep crew.

"Sister Celeste, you know you should give up the devil's ways with this smoking," Travis said.

Celeste puffed to catch the flame, and Travis removed the lighter.

"Then why help me out?" she said.

She took a long drag and blew out away from his face and noticed a dark tattoo on the stranger's muscular right arm. An eight-pointed star floating above a crescent moon. Shit. Another Muslim. Last thing she wanted was to be lectured and recruited to be the next Betty Shabazz to a Malcolm X wanna-be. At least Travis wasn't slanging his bean pies or the Final Call at the bar. A real vibe killer. One thing the Nation had right by her was how they cleaned up Black men and turned them into fine specimens of manhood. She glanced at the tall, pretty boy with the hypnotic eyes. His plush lips looked so succulent for long, lusty kisses.

As-Salaam Alaikum, she muttered in her mind.

Her stomach fluttered at the grin on his face. Like he heard her thoughts. He turned to look at a few patrons entering the bar, and she glimpsed more ink on his left arm. A marine tattoo with black USMC lettering. An eagle sat on top of a globe underneath it, and Celeste looked away when he rested his gaze on her face again. Her cheeks warmed up like she was in a hot bath, and she parted her lips to take in more air. Feeling breathless, she jabbed her cigarette against the wall and tossed it in a garbage bin near the entrance.

"You ready, Duchess? They playing the down home blues in there and the old folks are taking over the dance floor," Nae Nae said with an annoyed stank face, joining Celeste outside with Joyce and Mercy.

Joyce handed her a paper plate with a piece of King Cake on it. Grateful for the distraction, Celeste took the plate and broke off a piece of the pastry. Stuffing it in her mouth, she chewed and Mr. Light Eyes pierced her soul with another drawn-out stare. She stuck two fingers in her mouth and pulled out a tiny brown plastic baby.

"Oop, you know what that means!" Joyce said.

Mr. Light Eyes seemed to float away with Travis and their male entourage down the street.

"I gotta bring the King Cake next year," Celeste said softly, holding the plastic baby in front of her lips, eyes still tracking the round, firm ass of the stranger in his jeans

The marine glanced back at her and smiled. She dropped her head forward, feeling lightheaded.

"You okay?" Joyce asked.

Celeste pocketed the plastic baby and linked arms with her friends.

"I'll go change inside and we'll be on our way! Let's get to clubbing!" Celeste said.

Chapter 3 HERE.

Masterlist.

Author's Note:

Hey y'all, the rest will drop on Halloween as promised! I had to set up my masterlist post now to make it easier when I upload the rest of the parts. Please share/reblog so we can get another Black fandom growing!

Tag List:

@planetblaque

@kindofaintrovert

@thedondada05

@blackburnbook

@avoidthings

@slutsareteacherstoo

@nayaesworld

@notapradagurl17

@4pfsukuna

@yamst3rdamctrl

@sweettea-and-honeybutter

@comfortzonequeen

@theereina

@brattyfics

@prettyisasprettydoes1306

@megane96

@honeytoffee

@taurusqueen83

@mightbeher

@melaninpov

@carlakeks

@woahthatshitfat

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes

#terry richmond fanfiction #Terry Richmond #rebel ridge fanfiction #Terry Richmond AU fanfiction #Black Vampires #Black Supernatural #Halloween 2024 #Uzumaki Rebellion

64 notes · View notes

magnoliasforyourmedic · 3 months ago

Text

I need Gene and Easy Comapny living it up at Mardi Gras like we all know it wouldn’t be hard to convince them to visit when there’s booze and broads everywhere. Of course Gene is totally in his element and they’re lowkey kinda shocked cause they having assumed he’d always been the kind to keep to himself. And maybe there’s a variety of people who come up to him cause they recognize or because they knew his grandma or something. Or maybe he did become a sort of traiteurs like his grandma so now people are coming up and handing him free drinks because he helped them.

#I have too many thoughts in my head yall #someone write this i’m begging #eugene roe #band of brothers #doc roe #magnolias for doc #fic ideas

62 notes · View notes

throwawayhero · 3 months ago

Note

hii!! could u please do headcannons for katsuki in a relationship with a trans man reader?? Tysm!!

Of course lovely! And thank you so much for sending in a request! Please feel free to correct any mistakes that I make, but I'll try my best! I wasn't exactly sure how to make the hc's specifically relationship orientated, so it's sort of a thin line sorry! c/w; afab, lgbtqia+, course language, menstruation, no quirks mentioned

He honestly had no clue you were trans when the two of you met for the first time. He had no reason to. And tbh, he didn't give a fuck when you told him. He sort of just.. shrugged and moved on? Nothing more, nothing less. But if you weren't already out when you met him and you realised how you truly felt a bit into the friendship.. he still didn't give a fuck! He accepted you, obviously, and he 'encouraged' you, in his own way, to test things out.

"Okay? Fuck does that have to do with me?"

He especially liked helping you pick out clothes. When asked to go with you to go clothes shopping, he would complain and tell you to get someone else to go with you.. but he would still grab his keys and rush you out the door (: (That's why your style is majorly inspired by his.)

When you told him what your new name was, he immediately said that it was better than your other "shitty ass" name. He also changed your contact name as soon as he could.

When you got your first masc hair cut you didn't tell him beforehand, so when you bumped into him and surprised him with it he stared at it for a good minute with a frown before saying that it looked better than the "rats nest" you had before. Bonus points if you did any form of bleaching and/or dyeing it, he says it makes you look less boring.

"At least now you look like you actually have a personality."

If he catches someone calling/referring to you by your deadname, whether it was intentional or not, he's onto their ass IMMEDIATLEY and he is NOT polite about it. He will sass them tf up.

"Who's that? Oh, you mean ****, right?" "Come again?" / "Excuse you?" / "Pardon?"

Kinda had no idea what binders were before you told him what they were used for. Insisted you got ones with cool designs and called you boring for getting solid colour ones only.

Genuinely became so much more involved with the LGBTQIA+ community because of you. His first Mardi Gras was a night he will literally never forget, for both good and bad reasons. If you dare MENTION a feather boa, he'll start having flashbacks.

He doesn't put that much thought into his sexuality. He's just the type of person to not gaf, yk? Call him what you want, he wasn't gonna sit there and confirm or deny. He just knew that he had been attracted to girls and guys his whole life, regardless of the extra stuff.

When you got your period for the first time around him he was pretty neutral about it. When you mentioned the dysphoria it gave you he did try his best to console you, but it just ended up making you laugh. He really did try to keep you distracted, even if he struggled exponentially. He let you use his Netflix to watch a movie/TV show while you hung out. ACTUALLY understood that cramps hurt like a bitch and gave you pain relief and snacks.

"Jeans cannot be comfortable for you right now, ya masochist."

Went with you to every T-shot appointment. He wasn't obvious about it but he always made sure that his hand was there for you to hold if you got paranoid about the needle hurting. Noticed the effects quicker than everyone else and claimed that he "won" at being the most supportive.

"You guys suck at this."

He helped you save up for top & bottom surgery and surprised you with the rest of the money you needed on a random Tuesday night. He'd never admit it but he "almost" teared up at the sight of how happy you were that night. And you'll pretend like you never saw the tear roll down his cheek.

#mha #bnha #boku no hero academia #katsuki bakugo #mha bakugou #my hero academia #bakugou x you #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #dynamight #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #lgbtq #lgbtqia #trans ftm #afab reader #throwawayhero

88 notes · View notes

thecouchsofa · 4 months ago

Text

A shortlist of some of my favourite fics from Wireless Fest 2024, while they're still anonymous. Go read these (and the rest) here!

💿🎵🎷🎧📻🎼

💿How to Begin – Anonymous (8k, E) 💿

Harry is completely, pathetically besotted with his flatmate, Draco. Fuelled by liquid courage, he finally makes his move when he's absolutely sozzled. What could possibly go wrong?

Read for: Flatmates, Friends with Benefits, Mutual Pining

🎵Seasons – Anonymous (9k, E) 🎵 Seconds pass, and it’s like he can see Draco worrying the sliver of glass in his heart, looking for a way to press it out, to expose the wound to the sun. It’s life; Harry can be patient.

Read for: Snapshots over time, Older Drarry, Slice of Life

🎷The most he’s ever said – Anonymous (16k, E) 🎷 It takes them twenty years.

Read for: Down and Out to Redeemed and Competent Draco, Draco-centric, the Situationship of a Lifetime

Warning: Infidelity, but not between Drarry

🎧Closing Time – Anonymous (18k, E) 🎧 Draco’s been invited to Neville’s stag party in Bristol, and he's confident he knows what to expect. There’ll be too many Gryffindors, for starters, plus a few humiliating team-building activities, some dodgy clubs, and a truly preposterous level of alcohol consumption. But… a drunken Harry Potter climbing into Draco's bed when he’s having a wank? No, he definitely didn't see that coming…

Read for: Bristol, Stag Do, Draco & Neville Friendship

📻Heartbeat – Anonymous (22k, E) 📻 Harry hates Draco. Draco hates Harry. Only it's not hate, not even a little bit. Featuring: a cooperative independent study, golden hour on wrecked sheets, strawberries in the summer at Grimmauld Place, water from fountains of dubious origin, purple Mardi Gras beads, and a bird with silly legs. Also featuring: heated arguments, infidelity, unquenchable desire, and heartbreak. Over and over again.

Read for: Angst, Toxic Relationship, ‘Nobody else compares’ vibe

Warning: Massive amounts of infidelity, but mostly not between Drarry. There’s a scene that I interpreted as Harry emotionally cheating on Draco, although their relationship hadn’t been defined as exclusive.

🎼Antelucan Ruins – Anonymous (29k, E) 🎼 From the bloody Prophet, Draco discovers Harry Potter’s death splashed in grey ink printed on the front page. Potter is dead before Draco gets to see him again to fulfil a half-spoken promise. And yet, these days Draco has the power to bend the world to his heart’s desires, and that includes fucking Harry Potter even after he personally saw Potter’s pale, lifeless body lying in a coffin before it got buried under the soil. — "Do you realise that you're just as pathetic and insane? You're so hung up on the idea of me that you'd fuck a ghost, Malfoy. You risked your life for it." Draco puts an arm around Potter's body, "Whoever says I am sane? Certainly not me. It's calculated risk with more success rate than failure. And you are dead, Potter. You refuse to move on to the next realm because you crave for my cock."

Read for: BAMF Draco, Ghost Harry, a surprisingly hopeful tone considering one of them is fully dead

💿🎵🎷🎧📻🎼

Disclaimer: I have not read two of the longer fics, so they will not appear here

#h/d wireless 2024 #drarry fests #drarry #drarry recs #drarry rec list #drarry fics #drarry fanfiction #hpdm

61 notes · View notes

morningstargirl666 · 2 months ago

Note

hii !!!! do u know any klaroine fics like into eternity by you?? a fic where caroline chooses klaus / klaus is endgame but it follows the original story?? like i dont want an au ! i hope i'm making sense! thank you so much if you answer <3333

Hmmm I think I can think of a few, some are wips tho.

Persistence of Memory by perfectpro / @helpless-in-sleep

Complete. One-shot. Caroline visits Klaus in New Orleans after the last time they saw each other was when they had a fight (they've been bumping into other for years by this point). Doesn't realise his radio silence was not in fact anger, but because he'd completely forgotten her thanks to a spell. Mikaelson siblings guest star, post-canon divergence that really shows that Klaus will fall in love with her no matter the circumstances. There's a detail about his rosary necklace he always wears that I won't spoil but damn, did it change my brain chemistry.

Someone's First Choice by unpublishnovelist

WIP. Multichap. Not finished yet, but really promising. Caroline visits Klaus in New Orleans for Mardi Gras and its beautiful. We love our girl getting what she deserves. I'm so excited for more updates of this.

Does forever work for you? by meet_the_girl_who_can

Complete. One-shot. AU from when Liz dies. Klaus visits her at the funeral and she chooses to leave with him for New Orleans.

throw roses into the abyss by marxandangels / @marxandangels

WIP. Multichap. Another Caroline goes to New Orleans after her mom's death and decides to stay there. Some real iconic scenes in this one, and it continues on, spanning months/years into their relationship. Really good read.

From The Eastern Mountains by Cupcakemolotov / @cupcakemolotov

Complete. One-shot. Smut included, if I remember correctly. Caroline and Klaus keep bumping into each other across the world. The (christmas?) market scene lives rent free in my head. Absolutely iconic.

Wayfarer by perfectpro / @helpless-in-sleep

Another cute little one-shot where they bump into each other in Paris. Perfection.

There's tons more but these are the first that come to mind, some even inspired Into Eternity in some ways. I'll stop there cause I think I'm just going to end up reccing fics I've already recced before. Check out my bookmarks on AO3 and filter by the vampire diaries if you want more - I tend to bookmark everything I read and enjoy.

#asks #anon ask #fic recs #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #kc fic recs

37 notes · View notes

the-nosy-neighbor · 1 month ago

Text

Poe

So, still digesting this information.

Also, I just realized that the wiki has links to Clown’s past comments about each character, so I have been enjoying reading those. I did a deep dive a while back, but didn’t see some of the things added.

The main thing I see here, if people aren’t familiar with the works of Edward Allen Poe, is the fact that two of his stories are referenced in the book. I assume most people are going to know, as his stuff is pretty popular and references abound. Sally has determined that they are going to do her version of “The Tell-tale Heart.” I wish we got to hear more about what her version was like, but we do get a small idea. The second references is “The Cask of Amontillado.” I’m going to do a super basic description of each story—I have read these in the past, but I’m using general info from Wikipedia as a source.

In “The Telltale Heart” (which I saw a feminist play version of recently), the story follows an unnamed person who lives with an old man and becomes obsessed with the idea that his “milky” eye (probably cataracts) is watching him at all times. He decides that he is going to have to kill him to get rid of this evil eye. He goes in at night with a shuttered lantern to observe the old man while he sleeps. For seven days, he doesn’t see the eye. On the eighth, the old man wakes up (I think the main character makes a noise) and then when the shaft of light lands on his unusual eye, decides that this is the sign he needs to go ahead and kill him.

Check out this awesome art from Wikipedia, an illustration by Harry Clark in 1923

He hears the old man’s heartbeat at this point. The old man cries out once and then dies. So he kills him, dismembers him, and buries him under the floorboards of the old man’s room. But someone heard the scream, so the police come. He has taken care of everything suspicious, so he doesn’t think that they are going to find anything, but he keeps hearing the heartbeat. He brings chairs to the old man’s room, and they sit there. The heartbeat keeps getting louder and louder, but the cops don’t seem to hear it. Eventually, the sound of the heartbeat breaks him, and he confesses to the crime. He tells them where the body is hidden.

The story was published in January of 1843 in a magazine. Interesting tidbit, it was published with a poem claimed by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, called “A Psalm of Life” but when Poe’s story was republished, he had them drop the poem, because he thought it could be plagiarized. It was first published anonymously, and some felt that if it was Wadsworth’s, it could be a translation of Goethe. The poem is about seizing the day, doing great things.

Now, the second piece, “The Cask of Amontillado” is also a story about premeditated murder. In this case, it follows an Italian noble who has fallen on hard times, who hates a man he blames for his bad fortune. The hated man is called “Fortunato,” and the murderer is called “Montresor” which is a family name. So, it’s Carnival (Carnevale), which has parades, costumes, masks, games, pranks, theatre performances among other celebrations. Mardi Gras is descended from this festival. Montresor finds Fortunato wandering around drunk (and it is insinuated that while he is called a connoisseur he could be a garden variety alcoholic). Having planned for revenge against the guy, he asks him to come to his house and check out this rare wine he bought, known for being counterfeit most of the time. Given that Fortunato has a taste for wines, he is going to give his opinion. Monstresor thinks with carnival happening around them, and both of them in carnival garb and masks, no one will notice them going to his house.

He takes the guy down to his basement, giving him some wine on the way down to keep him drunk, and instead of wine, there is a chain on the wall with a lock on the other side. Montresor locks him in, and starts to build a wall around him. Fortunato tries to take it as a joke, but it becomes apparent that Montresor is going to leave him there. Fortunato begs for them to leave and drink the wine together, while his murderer agrees with everything he says, still building the wall. With one brick left, Montresor looks at him, and calls his name twice:

I heard no answer. “Fortunato!” I cried. “Fortunato.” I heard only a soft, low sound, a half-cry of fear. My heart grew sick; it must have been the cold. I hurried to force the last stone into its position. And I put the old bones again in a pile against the way. For half a century now no human hand has touched them. May he rest in peace!

Also notable in this story is the imagery of Montresor’s family crest, which shows a foot crushing a snake, while the snake has its fangs in the heel of the foot. I read a discussion on the somewhat circular nature of this image, because the viewer can’t tell who the aggressor is there. Did the snake bite first, or did the heel crush first? “Montresor” means “my treasure;” “Fortunato” means “lucky, fortunate, blessed, or happy.” Fortunato is also the name of many Christian saints.

What does this mean for Poppy? And Sally? In our story, Sally is distraught that she suggested that Poppy act in the play, having forgotten (somehow) that Poppy is scared of everything, until everyone reminds her that Poppy is scared of everything. Barnaby says “brick by brick,” which gives Barnaby the idea to brick Poppy into her barn. Truly bizarre. So all the neighbors (minus Home) set to work bricking up her window with school glue and bricks. Interestingly, all the neighbors appear to be there, but you don’t see the hands of Frank or Sally, just trowels.

You see a shot of the interior of the barn with just a small part remaining open, with Sally’s face in the hole. Then a line says “Never had a home look so safe and cozy!” (sic, not sure about that, typo?) Agree to disagree, that sounds terrifying.

Poppy being out of the play altogether means that Home is in the play. We see the other neighbors prepping, so I assume that the page where they are all in windows shows what each one is doing: Wally is painting (scenery?), Frank is brushing Julie’s hair, Howdy is putting chairs out (?), Barnaby is eating a hot dog, home is staring directly at us, and Eddie is studying lines. Sally, in the center is being bummed that Poppy isn’t participating. Given that Home is in the background of the play itself, I am going to assume that Julie is the main character, Eddie is Cop 1 and Home is Cop 2. The play ends with the confession scene, but Julie confesses burying her alarm clock in a garden, not a murder. Home has three black dots on the front, but I can’t tell if that is some kind of decoration for the play, or if it is more of the black stuff that is on everything.

After the play, we are treated to silhouettes of the audience and cast, but we don’t have the audio of the lines there, instead, we are hearing Poppy’s panic. But it does have the line, “Most important of all, not a single peep was heard out of Poppy.” Then there is a page of a feather on a brick page (that reminds me of the old missing art that isn’t canon.

The book ends with an image of the bricked over window. While the audio tells us she is fine, the images themselves are suspect. More to come later.

#welcome home #welcome home theories #welcome home arg #wally darling #welcome home project

49 notes · View notes

andersholmvikbootysex · 6 months ago

Text

So I made this post on Tiktok the other day, and I wanted to elaborate on the story behind it.

To begin, I see Alan’s facial expression as a sort of bittersweet sentiment. The first episode shows that he and Charlie have some sort of bond, and are able to interact with each other closely because of it.

As the show progresses, we see less and less of this relationship, which could likely be the product of a lack of connection between them, one replaced by Charpim. I feel that up until the show began, they were a closeknit pair, separating themselves from Charlie’s similarly close bond with Pim.

A replaced relationship could explain why Alan rarely ever interferes with Charlie and Pim’s daily interactions, save when he’s making sure they don’t hurt themselves or die (i.e. when he stopped Pim from eating more of his compost worms).

However, in the Brazil episode, we get another albeit thin slice of their relationship when Alan jokes about calling Christ the Redeemer the “Big Jesus”. Alas, as most interactions between them go, this quickly fades and fails to be mirrored later on, as they don’t seem to speak directly for the rest of the episode.

Likewise, through Alan’s remark of “I just see it as the Big Jesus”, distress and an air of awkwardness related to interacting with Charlie bleeds through. He’s grappling on for dear life at any chance of reconciling that closeness he once had, and doesn’t know how to handle an unexpected chance at that happening.

On to my main point.

I’ve established that Charlie and Alan had some kind of relationship near the beginning of the series that gradually thinned out, hence a lack of interaction between them throughout the rest of the show, and that this bond was displaced by Charpim.

Though Alan seems to be a non-emotional type—until it comes to his favorite food and getting a job done—this could easily be a facade he wears to push others away, or the result of a knot of hurt in his heart after the dissipating of he and Charlie’s relationship. This can unveil the reason he hooks up with random women and why he feels so uncomfortable acknowledging it after the fact: he does it to briefly get Charlie, and what could have been of them, off his mind.

This is a scant piece of evidence for Alan’s yearning, but who knows what he’s doing and what he’s feeling when he’s off screen, not put off by an exceedingly heavy task?

Back to the point of his pining for Charlie, he does have a bit of time to recover from the loss of their bonding; the show goes through Halloween, Christmas, and Mardi Gras, with the latter two being less than two months apart. This excludes the time before the holiday specials. For the sake of the argument, let’s consider that the passage of time, distractions, and facade allow Alan to heal somewhat.

Due to his time spent at Smiling Friends Inc. during the Charpim boom, he must be used to seeing Charlie and Pim’s relations ceaselessly, from the tightest of conversations to the standard friendly interactions. It’s never anything new.

The kiss, however, is out of the ordinary for them—especially in the presence of others. This is the first time we’ve seen them interact in such a way, and it happened to occur when Alan was watching.

It’s not difficult to infer that, because of that and the romantic connotation that comes with kissing, the interaction clearly struck a cord for our rosy friend. As mentioned previously, because of Alan’s adaption to Charpim interplay, it’s not a strong enough relation to strike one hard.

Regardless, he holds on to that retired bond he had with Charlie just enough to show visible bitterness after the fact. It’s a glance of jealousy and reminiscence rather than disgust or hate.

#This is dumb #smiling friends #also sorry if my writing is bad or confusing #charlie dompler #alan smiling friends #charlan #rant #long post

67 notes · View notes

eyestrain-addict · 1 year ago

Text

I just realized why lestat marked Tom, like the big stupid idiot I am

(I know everyone else probably already figured this out, but this is MY blog and I get to post whatever deranged thought crosses my pea brained mind.)

When I watched that scene in episode 5 where they're at the bar talking to Tom, I was confused as to why exactly. Why does Lestat mark Tom? If he's marked to kill, why does he wait almost 2 decades later? Well I realized, as all realizations come, in the shower.

Lestat has been planning on killing Tom the whole time.

(Warning before you click read more, this post is a lot longer than I first intended holy fuck)

Well not the whole time. Just right when Louis realized that Anderson and Fenwick had screwed him over. Maybe even longer if he knew it was a trick ("ridiculous of you to mix human and vampire business it always ends poorly"). Notice how he's upset with louis when he kills the guy who's microaggressive with him, cus lestat wasn't there (even if he was there I have my doubts Lestat would understand microaggressions, but he would have definitely killed him for touching Louis.) But tells Louis he's proud of him for killing Alderman. I think this has to be because he witnessed the disrespect first hand. He didn't give a fuck about the money, what he DID care about was that those two disrespected not only him, but Louis.

Even with Lestats little understanding of race relations of the time in America, he did understand hierarchys. He's from 1700s France for God's sake. It's no coincidence wanted to be king of mardi gras. Lestat came to New Orleans and saw himself as the king, even if no one knew it. And he wanted Louis to be his queen. Honestly I could make an entire other post about how Lestat almost literally saw himself as if he was a King and Louis his beloved Queen, which is why he thought it was okay for him to sleep with other women (mistresses and playthings of the king should mean nothing compared to the queen in lestats eyes) but that's getting off topic. I only bring that up because I'm trying to paint a picture of how I think Lestat sees disrespect done to Louis. To him that goes beyond disrespect or rudeness, it's irreverence.

You begin to notice if you watch scenes with them together. Because while I wouldn't say lestat is good at controlling his anger, he's definitely great at concealing it until it erupts (props to Sam Reid have to be given here) lestat is always on the verge of fury when talking to Tom. It starts as a distaste then as he begins to fall more in love with Louis and become more protective of him, his anger builds. Claudia was wrong about one thing, it was no petty slight that was the reason Lestat killed Tom first, it was a loooonng time coming.

I could list every detail I think supports this but I'm sure you get the gist by now. My main point is really the layer of complexity this adds to not only the story, the characters, but also lestat and louis' relationship. Consider it for a second, Lestat saw all his violence as justified, everything he did one can see it through the lense of him punishing the disrespectful (take a shot every time I say disrespect in this post jesus christ). "I bring death to those deserving" indeed. Lestat has a god complex out the wazoo, and every attack, torture, and death he caused was righteous to him and thus enjoyable. Louis on the other hand didn't see himself so highly. He may seem confident but if you look through the cracks it's apparent Louis's self worth in near nonexistent and he's horribly insecure. I think lestat thought when Louis was made a vampire he would see himself as Lestat saw himself, and as Lestat saw Louis. But again, another post for another time.

Despite Louis' insecurities (or perhaps because of them) louis revels in the violence lestat commits for his sake. That's probably why louis is so quick to forgive lestat about the priests. For a brief moment Lestat truly said the truth to Louis and Louis could forgive him because of it. As lestat says, he doesn't kill the priests to intimidate Louis, nor does he do it just because he enjoys it. He does it because he sees them as humiliating Louis, charlatans that don't deserve Louis' sorrow. Louis didn't want the priest's to die, but he could understand why lestat killed them, simply because for once in his goddamn life lestat told the truth, and louis loved that truth. That truth being that lestat killed and mutilated and committed such horrors not just because he liked it, but because he did it out of a fucked up sense of protection. Him killing the priests was essentially a knight killing a dragon to earn the princess' hand in marriage.

The worst part is that Lestat doesn't even realize it. Not fully anyway. Let's be honest with ourselves, lestat doesn't understand Louis. Obviously there's the race, background, culture differences that lestat doesn't understand nor seems inclined to try, but there are better posts about that made by smarter people than moi. I'm mostly talking about lestat doesn't understand louis' mind itself (louis' mind in a vacuum I suppose you could say) he understands Louis' desire for violence sure, but he doesn't understand the core of that want. Honestly I'm on the fence of if he ever understood that Louis loved it when lestat was protective in the first place. I guess it can be dumbed down to Louis wants Lestat to kill to protect Louis and to protect the family (and anyone who deeply disrepects them), lestat perhaps understood a little at one point, but since he sees everyone as a threat and everything is a slight to him, he has no trouble and qualms with delighting in the torture of people Louis views as innocent. Louis' heart is a bit dark, but ultimately human, so he's disgusted by lestats violence towards the undeserving. Lestat can no longer read Louis' mind and even if he could, Louis doesn't quite understand the difference himself (that's why he tries to hunt for criminals briefly) so the cracks of miscommunication starts to form, and neither of them even realize there is miscommunication.

Therein lies the importance of Tom Anderson for season 1. Not much of a character, more of a plot device in human skin. Claudia can see that Lestat hates him, but doesn't understand why, nor does she care to get to the depths of that. (*Mr house voice* understandable) I think it's notable that Louis rarely brought him up, he didn't understand the depths of lestats love. Nor did he know about Lestats 3 decade long grudge, all because Tom disrespected Louis.

Now I'm not excusing Lestat's actions, I just think it's interesting how this one throwaway character reveals a whole level of complexity to the relationship between him and Louis, and better sheds light on not only Lestats personal philosophy but louis' as well. Even Claudia to a degree.

Anyway, uh. End of essay. Bye.

298 notes · View notes

srslyblvck · 7 days ago

Text

── drunken chaos,, klaus mikaelson

pairing: klaus mikaelson x daughter!reader

synopsis: you come home drunk, your father isn't very pleased

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 1k

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE MIKAELSON ESTATE WAS a scene of mixed tension and comedy. Klaus paced the grand living room like a caged predator, muttering curses under his breath.

“She should have been back hours ago,” he growled, shooting a glare at his siblings. “Witches on the loose, and she’s out partying like it’s Mardi Gras.”

“She’s fine, Nik,” Rebekah said, lounging on the sofa with a glass of red wine. “You’re more dramatic than usual tonight. What’s she going to do? Skip home drunk and accidentally summon a hex?”

Elijah, ever composed, sat in a high-backed chair with a book. He didn’t look up as he responded, “If she doesn’t return soon, I suggest we go look for her.”

“Finally, someone sensible,” Klaus snapped.

But before any plans could be made, the front doors swung open, revealing a sight none of them expected.

Standing in the doorway was Leonard—a nervous-looking vampire with sandy blond hair and a slightly disheveled suit—carrying you like a sack of tipsy potatoes. His arm was wrapped securely around your waist as your head lolled on his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the scene you were making. Your sparkly sling purse dangled off his wrist, and in his free hand, he clutched your broken heels like a defeated soldier presenting a battle trophy.

The room fell silent.

Klaus’s mouth dropped open, his fury momentarily eclipsed by sheer disbelief. Rebekah choked on her wine, sputtering as she struggled to keep it from spilling. Elijah, ever composed, dropped his book squarely into his lap, looking entirely affronted by the sight.

“Uh…” Leonard began, his voice, high-pitched with nerves. “Hi. I, uh, brought her back?”

You stirred slightly, mumbling, “’M fine, Leonard,” before promptly giggling and going limp against his shoulder.

Klaus was the first to recover, storming across the room to snatch you from Leonard’s grasp. “Give her to me,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Leonard obeyed immediately, carefully handing you over. Klaus cradled you in his arms for all of two seconds before thrusting you toward Rebekah. “Hold her,” he barked.

Rebekah raised an eyebrow but took you without protest, holding you up as you draped yourself over her like a human scarf. “Darling, you’re heavier than you look,” she muttered, though there was an amused smile on her face.

Elijah approached with a resigned sigh, plucking your sparkly heels and sling purse from Leonard. “Why do I always get the accessories?” he murmured, eyeing the glittery bag in his hand.

You giggled at the sight, squinting at him through bleary eyes. “Uncle ’Lijah, you look so fancy holding my purse.”

“Thank you,” Elijah said dryly.

Klaus rounded on Leonard, his expression deadly. “You have exactly five seconds to explain yourself, or I’ll use your head as a centerpiece for our next family dinner.”

Leonard’s face drained of color. “S-Sir, I—uh—”

“Four.”

Leonard gulped. “We were out at the bar, and—and then these witches showed up! They were attacking people, and, uh, your daughter jumped in to—”

“She jumped in?” Klaus interrupted, his voice rising. “And what, exactly, were you doing? Standing there like a useless lump?”

“No, no!” Leonard stammered, his hands waving defensively. “I was helping! I swear! She told me to distract one of them while she handled the other two. She was amazing! Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone fight like that—”

“That’s because she’s a Mikaelson,” Klaus snarled. “And you? You’re an idiot for letting her put herself in danger!”

Leonard looked like he might faint. “She—she didn’t really give me a choice—”

“Dad, stop it!” you interjected from across the room, your voice slurred but insistent. Rebekah was barely holding you upright now.

“Stay out of this,” Klaus snapped, but you were having none of it.

“Leonard was just being nice,” you slurred, wagging a finger in your father’s direction. “You’re always so mean to him. He has great hair!”

Rebekah snorted, hiding her laughter behind her wine glass.

Klaus ignored her, turning back to Leonard. “You are not to see my daughter again. Do you understand me?”

Leonard nodded quickly, clearly eager to escape. “Crystal clear. Goodnight!” He bolted for the door, disappearing faster than a squirrel in a thunderstorm.

Klaus turned back to you, his fury reigniting. “And as for you—”

“Give me the wine,” you whined, stretching like a child reaching for a cookie jar.

Rebekah grinned, taking a long sip herself. “Not a chance.”

“Rebekah, leave,” Klaus barked, and she raised her eyebrows but complied, passing you off to him.

“You’re so grumpy,” you mumbled, poking Klaus in the chest as he held you upright. “You’re always mad. You need to chill. Take a deep breath. Do yoga.”

Elijah chuckled softly from his seat, adjusting his tie as he set your purse and shoes aside. “I must say, she does have a point.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Klaus growled.

You squinted up at him, tilting your head as you tried to focus. “You’re so tall. Like a big, angry tree.”

Rebekah reappeared briefly, smirking as she leaned against the doorframe. “She’s delightful when she’s drunk. You should let her do this more often.”

Klaus shot her a glare.

You attempted to stand, wobbling slightly. “Okay, okay. I’m going to bed.”

“You can barely walk,” Klaus muttered.

“I can totally walk,” you declared, taking a step forward—only to immediately trip over your own feet.

Before you could hit the ground, Klaus vamp-sped toward you, catching you in his arms with a sigh. “You’re going to tumble down the stairs one day, and I’ll be left to clean up the mess,” he muttered, scooping you up effortlessly.

As he carried you toward the stairs, you leaned your head back, your hair spilling over his arm as you waved dramatically at the others. “Goodnight, Aunt Bekah! Goodnight, Uncle ’Lijah!”

Rebekah raised her glass in response, grinning. Elijah simply shook his head, a rare smile tugging at his lips.

Klaus sighed as he ascended the stairs, muttering, “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me,” you replied, resting your head against his shoulder.

Despite himself, Klaus smiled. “More than you’ll ever know, love.”

#divider by fairytopea #klaus mikaelson #klaus mikealson fanfiction #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaelson x teen!reader #klaus mikaelson x daughter!reader #the vampire diaries imagine #the vampire diaries #the originals imagine #the originals #klaus mikaelson fluff

29 notes · View notes

blue-rose-soul · 9 months ago

Note

For hazbin hotel au: what would happen she found out at first meeting with alastor and kept it a secret because she didn't know how to process it?

By 'she' I'm guessing you mean Charlie?

I don't think she'd end up keeping the secret for all that long, to be honest. We know how she feels about keeping secrets from loved ones, although she's not nearly as close with Alastor so it's somewhat excusable. I feel like Charlie would still believe she had an obligation to tell the truth though.

I'm also not sure what scenario would allow Charlie to know but not Alastor OR Lucifer. The reason I decided Lucifer was wasted when he hooked up with Nicaise is because Vivienne described Lucifer and Lilith as being deeply in love. Even if some things have changed, I don't think Lucifer would ever intentionally cheat on Lilith. Even if their relationship was an open one, I doubt Lucifer would have knowingly abandoned any kid of his.

So if Lucifer didn't know, I don't see how Charlie would.

Buuuuuuuuuuuut...

Let's say she does figure it out. Not right off the bat, but over time she pieces together some clues from things she's heard Alastor mention offhand and stories Lucifer told her when she was a bit younger, before they stopped talking regularly. She doesn't know what to say to Alastor, so she goes to Vaggie, who doesn't really know how to handle the situation either. But there's one guy who has to have answers, right?

Charlie ends up calling Lucifer earlier than in canon, inviting him to the hotel to talk about 'something important.' Sometime after episode 4 but before the months-long time skip between then and episode 5. Lucifer comes running over, eager to see Charlie for the first time in ages.

He meets Alastor... aaaaaand does NOT make a good first impression. You've seen Dad Beat Dad.

There's no Mimzy to break up the argument this time (she won't show up for another 4-5 months) so Charlie has to stop things before they escalate. Fortunately, reminding Lucifer that she had something important to talk to him about is enough to get him to drop his sniping match with Alastor.

Unfortunately, trying to extract the truth from Lucifer is like pulling a tooth. Charlie keeps trying to subtly poke and prod but Lucifer's only half-listening, distracted, or he gets wrapped up cooing over his 'little girl.' Vaggie's not around to provide backup, since Charlie wanted to speak with Lucifer alone.

Eventually Charlie gets fed up with Lucifer's rambling and snaps, "DAD! Did you cheat on Mom?"

It takes Lucifer a hot minute to process the question.

When he does he's shocked and hurt... and a little afraid.

"Why would you ask that?" he wonders, and Charlie walks him through her mental math. Once in a moment of drunken vulnerability, Alastor let slip that he was conceived at Mardi Gras in New Orleans, in the same year that Lucifer snuck to Earth. And that his father was never in the picture. Lucifer is embarrassed as he admits he doesn't remember the entirety of that night. But surely it's just a coincidence, right? Lots of kids were conceived that night, at that parade.

Charlie tells him that Alastor's mom apparently referred to his father as an 'angel' and suddenly Lucifer's not so sure.

They don't bring it up to Alastor yet. It's still not 100% certain, and Charlie doesn't want to drop that on Alastor's lap in case she turns out to be wrong. But she keeps wondering, picking out the little things she and Alastor and her father have in common. It's MADDENING. On top of which, now Charlie's daddy issues are exacerbated by the revelation that, whether or not Alastor actually is her brother, Lucifer might have strayed when he went up to Earth. She asks him to leave and Alastor's all too happy to sneer at Lucifer on the way out.

The next few months pass as they would have in canon, with Charlie mainly focusing on trying to redeem Angel Dust and Sir Pentious, BUT with one difference. She also spends her time trying to talk to Alastor more about his family and life on Earth. He's not entirely receptive to her questioning. Ultimately he'd rather just forget who he was as a human and embrace being the Radio Demon. But, from time to time, he feeds her tidbits of information that can't really be used against him. After all, if she feels like they're 'close' then he can use that to his advantage. Over time, though, Alastor starts doing his own math, and picks up some hints as to what Charlie's weird behavior is really about.

Lucifer, meanwhile, spends the time doing some digging and trying to figure out whatever became of Nicaise after Mardi Gras, 190x. His research pretty much confirms what he and Charlie had begun to suspect. One solace; it seems like Nicaise went up to Heaven. But Lucifer is devastated to learn that she left behind a 10-12 year old child when she did.

#ask #anonymous #Hazbin Hotel #the Devil's Bastard AU #Charlie Morningstar #Lucifer Morningstar #Alastor #yes I am taking this opportunity to inject more angst into this AU

81 notes · View notes

redfurrycat · 11 months ago

Text

🤠🍈🍈🐓Bosom!Hangman Fic Recs🐓🍈🍈🤠

Check the Top Gun Masterlist post for the latest updated version. 💕

Ao3 Authors: Anonymous, Boobooblue, Default_Lee, Discosleaze, Dracculaura, Ladybundle, Miiichaaan, Notchka88, Perishablealex, PleaseHellMe, ReformedTsundere, Sam_Haine, Tasteofoxidation, WaffleToaster, Welcome_to_the_Badlands, Whoreternal.

PWP {🤠🐓} > The Chicken Peach & the Zenithal Cowboy > The Perched Rooster & the Brooded Texan > Everywhere. Every-Fucking-Where.

‼️Art Visual‼️ ==> Phone Number from Oidingus

Acting on your best behavior by miiichaaan {E}

“You’re beautiful,” Jake whispered and stroked a finger over Bradley’s cheek. Bradley swallowed, his voice thick, “Wanna take this to bed?”

squeeze a little (tease a little more) by dracculaura {E}

Bradley had thought that nothing could test his will more than Jake sitting in his lap shirtless, but that was nothing compared to Jake sitting in his lap wearing his shirt. And leaving it unbuttoned. (or, jake walks around shirtless when the dagger squad goes to mardi gras and it drives bradley a little crazy)

Hotter Than Hell by Welcome_to_the_Badlands {E}

Or, the one with the heatwave and the popsicles.

beggin' you to touch by tasteofoxidation {E}

Jake has issues with wearing shirts properly, Bradley Bradshaw is a tits man. Put the two together--

Feels Like the First Time by ReformedTsundere {E}

"I want to have sex with Bradley Bradshaw." Saying it out loud is a weight off his chest, but then Jake has to worry about Javy because the other man is doubled over, having started choking on his spit.

the good girl faith and a tight little skirt by whoreternal {M}

the one where Jake loses a bet, wears an obscene shirt, [sexual tension] and then gets fucked.

kiss me softly (til I love me like you do) by daydreamingstoryteller {M}

"Jake, you don't have to do anything other than be yourself and they'll love you." Bradley insisted. Jake’s breath hitched. His body started to tremble the slightest as he whispered a confession he’d never said out loud even to himself. "I don't even know how to be myself Roo." Jake "Hangman" Seresin is trans, nonbinary, queer - the works. He just wants to wear a dress and feel good about himself so his boyfriend is there to help.

way too busy for them problems by ladybundle {E}

It's a boring goddamn Wednesday. That’s why the Hard Deck is annoyingly empty. Jake shifts his sweating beer to his other hand, flexing his cold fingers. It’s uncharacteristically humid and the balmy air is making Jake feel antsy and tense (Jesus, I hate being hot). ——— On a night out with the team, Jake worries about who might know.

As You Need Me To by perishablealex {E}

It begins with three words. No, not I love you. Who's your daddy?

I'll Treat You Sweet by Sam_Haine {E}

He imagines himself in the woman's position, on his knees in some dirty back alley, mouth wide open and taking someone's fat cock down his throat. No. He alters the scenario so that it's Rooster he's on his knees for.

I'm looking for a partner (someone who knows how to ride) by boobooblue {E}

Bradley turns to see a mechanical bull in the back of the bar, some girl laughing drunkenly as she's flung across the padded flooring. "Think you could do better?" Jake whispers in his ear as he presses a cold bottle to his hand. Bradley takes the beer and turns to his boyfriend. "Of course." "You sound awfully confident for a man that owns a ridiculous amount of hawaiian shirts." --or, the bull riding fic

We'd Always End Up Here by Default_Lee {E}

Jake always thought their banter was going somewhere, two planes circling that were bound to end up at the same place. He was definitely and unrequitedly in love with Bradley fucking Bradshaw. But he's actually an idiot and Bradley is 100% into Jake too. So Bradshaw gets off his perch to come find Jake in the showers.

watch your honey drip (can't keep away) by Notchka88 {E}

“Distraction is an acceptable strategy in gaining advantage over the enemy,” Jake intones, like he’s reading a tactical brief but his lips are twitching with a barely suppressed smile. Then he does a little shimmy of his hips that definitely doesn’t make Bradley consider the merits of pushing him down in the sand and pulling Jake’s shorts off in broad daylight. (Jake always plays to win, but even when Bradley loses, he finds the competition rewarding.)

You Got Me Walking' Side To Side by PleaseHellMe {E}

"You're burning up. Are you feeling sick?" he asked and noticed how sweat had started to bead against Bradley's hairline, making the bronze curls stick against his skin. When Bradley didn't answer, Jake cradled his cheek and tapped it lightly to gain the Alpha's attention. Bradley blinked his eyes open. It happened so slowly like they felt impossibly heavy to open. The barely opened eyes revealed blown-out pupils that had swallowed the beautiful hazel irises, which were one of Jake's favorite things about him. "Are you going into a rut Darlin’? Is that what's going on?"

homecoming (jake seresin's pierced nipples) by discosleaze {E}

sugar on my tongue

"pierced nipples taste like keys and baby, i'm coming home" - Bradley Bradshaw's pinned tweet, probably. Jake has a pierced nipple. Bradley is incapable of thinking about anything else.

you've got the win in your bag

“I’m going to go in and get something pierced, and if you’re a good boy, it’ll be my nipple. If you’re not, it’ll be my tongue.” Speaking of tongues, Bradley just about swallows his. “Why would that be a bad thing?” he croaks out, not enjoying how amused Jake is, mocking, even. “Well, Bradshaw, because I wouldn’t be able to blow you for weeks afterwards.” Jake contemplates a second piercing, Bradley contemplates nothing.

Here for the Show by ReformedTsundere {E}

Bradley commissions his favorite OnlyFans user for a personal video.

Go to your bosom by Anonymous {E}

Is saying ‘he doesn’t know how this whole thing started’ a cliché? Jake thinks so. Specially because, when he really thinks about it, he does know exactly when this whole thing started. Bradley isn’t subtle, and the way he blushes gives every intention away, and Jake likes the attention he gives him. And maybe he’s liking the fact that Bradley is oddly obsessed with his chest more than he expected it. Or, Bradley is a tits man and Jake feels like he’s slowly descending into madness.

The mishap in medicine by WaffleToaster {E}

A mistake with his medication causes Jake’s body to show some interesting side effects. Or rather it’s mostly Bradley who finds it interesting while Jake has to suffer for it. Otherwise known as: the weird kinky get-together story of two idiots involving Jake’s pecs and Bradley’s growing obsession with them.

#Bosom!Hangman Recs List #hangster #sereshaw #hangaroo #bradley rooster bradshaw x jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #jake hangman seresin #🐈red🐈furry🐈cat🐈tag🐈

76 notes · View notes