#but I LOVE parties when they’ve got lots o people I know at em :-)

[tomatoluvr69]

I think you’re very wise so I’ll ask you: how does one make friends in their 20s. Like I have a friend group and stuff but I’d like to branch out more. Maybe fuck around find love. Who knows. But how …….

I’m pretty floored by this compliment not gonna lie…and I should be clear that I’ve also struggled with finding friends out of college. I wound up moving back to my college town where I had some connections already, but I can tell you what I did to branch out from those people and make new ones? This is just what’s worked for me, and it’s been slow going, but here goes :-) putting it under a readmore because it got really long and rambly hehe

I had a pretty rough summer when, after 5-6 months of my living here, two of my closest friends (literally 2/3 of the people I decided to move here to be near!) moved to other cities in rapid succession & i had a tough adjustment. What I did to heal was to take some time where I was very intentionally kind of scaling back my social life because I recognized that the irrational hurt that resulted from those departures made it so that I wasn’t in a healthy headspace (thinking a lot of thoughts like companionship is pointless, friendships are born to die, my life will be a long and pointless cycle of making friends -> they abandon me for a partner -> make new friends -> they abandon me for a partner). I had the wherewithal to recognize those thoughts as reactionary, and pretty far removed from the truth, but I was still having them all the time. But I gave myself a purposeful fallow period and I think it REALLY helped. I know that’s not your situation but it’s helpful to explain my experience. (And also just to say, see if you can recognize thought patterns and doubts you have around new friendships as fallacious or insecure if you think they are! Challenge them in your head, and correct them.)

Then, in the fall, I found myself opening up again. Because of my little break (I spent a LOT of time with my very close friend, which maybe wasn’t the most ideal for either of us— but we weathered it) I had the clarity to observe what worked for me and what didn’t, and set challenges for myself. I’m a pretty shy person, and the really fucking annoying truth I’ve come to realize over and over again is that in order to have a rich and thriving social life, I must grit my teeth and fight against those impulses nigh constantly. It is not my nature to cold text an acquaintance who’s on the brink of being a friend to make plans for the first time. That shit is scary to me!!! But I have been fucking forcing myself to make that kind of leap. Basically, the rules I have been trying (and oftentimes failing!) to hold myself to:

1. Almost every other young adult around you is also quietly lonely and hoping for more social connections, especially at that post-college stage. People are thrilled to be reached out to. Remember this first and foremost!! Reassure yourself that no one thinks you’re a freak for being friendly.

2. Text first sometimes (often). You HAVE to do this— if everyone sat around and waited to be enveloped into friendships, no one would have any friends at all. Think about how touched you are when someone makes the first move to you— asks for your number, uses it, suggests a hangout. It’s scary and it sucks but then it’s sooo worth it.

3. This one’s controversial…but I have a policy of “yes”. I do not say no to an invitation. And I do not allow myself to cancel unless I’m ACTUALLY ill. No “self care” excuse. No “I’m tired/depressed/long day at work” excuse. The ONLY exception is if I have a rigid commitment already (or if I’m vomiting or have covid which is…infrequent lol). I always go to the scary party, the nerve-wracking dinner at a friend of a friend’s. Sometimes I have a hunch I’ll hate it, and I do. But most of the time I have that hunch I’m proven wrong and very pleasantly surprised at how nice of a time I’ve had. This is how I’ve deepened acquaintance relationships into friendships, because it allowed me to see people a whole bunch of times and get accustomed to them and talk to them little by little and be less scared of them. but it was harrrrrrd, and it took a long time. I’m only now feeling like I’m actually friends with people I met like… 6-10 months ago.

Those are my rules, but basically it boils down to forcing myself out there way more than I’m comfortable with. And honestly, it’s already changing my personality and becoming more easy.

Also re: seeing people again a whole bunch of times. Become a regular somewhere!!! Join a club, my friend is in a writer’s group that has formed some very solid connections, I have friends who meet up all the time in an earth skills sharing capacity. I have a friend in some sort of trans baseball league or something? I’ve seen posts online for like idk a queer craft meetup, a diverse authors book club, affinity hiking groups, etc. A lot of my friends (and sometimes I!) go to a weekly themed night at a dive bar & over time have gotten to know a lot of the other regulars. Is there a bar near you that has a recurrent event that intrigues you? Goth night, dyke night, karaoke? it won’t happen overnight, you gotta go again and again and and again. But find social hobbies, and by seeing people again in the same place, you will first recognize them, then become friendly, then perhaps even become friends.

Now some disclaimers: I’m very lucky to be well positioned as the best friend and roommate of an incredibly outgoing person, who is the type to become a nucleus of any social scene he enters into. People love him, and want him around, and he loves me and wants me around! This makes things much easier for me, and without that connection, I’d be much more isolated! So I guess some advice there is to be on the lookout for the type of person who effortlessly gathers people. Sometimes I think (unfortunately lol) of the biblical phrase “fisher of men”. But it’s quite apt. If you find yourself being fished, go along with it!! Even if you don’t click completely with that gregarious person, the likelihood that you’ll be thrown into orbit with others is high, and you may find people through that. Let them invite you places! Meet their friends!! Friends who have served this role in my life have been absolutely indispensable for me & I try to actively emulate their modi operandi as much as possible

If you have a pretty closed off friend group, you could work on changing that? Another concrete piece of advice (and one that’s brand new to me lol) is to become a host! Have a brunch potluck or throw a birthday at your place. Invite your friends and have them bring along someone you might not know! Invite people you’re friendly acquaintances with. One of the nicest ways to build community is through like casual, open, and recurrent gatherings. Highly, highly recommend low stakes evenings like potlucks & yard fires & movie nights but especially potlucks. Sometimes you gotta be the gatherer if you want it to happen. I’m brewing up a brunch potluck later this month & im forcing myself kicking and screaming to include a few people I don’t know that well, despite the voice in my head that’s like “why would they want to come hang out with YOU…” (see rule one!!!!!). And again, I’m very lucky to live in a very special town with social people all around, but no one is going to come along and create that culture where it doesn’t already exist. Well, they might…but you can either sit around and wait for them to appear OR you can start fostering that community for yourself. I guess the idea is to take the connections you already have and BUILD! :-) I’m happy to hear you have some friends around you already, I’d really encourage you to start holding casual gatherings and make it explicitly clear that you’d love for them to bring people along.

Oh and also, I’ve found that hosting things TOGETHER is a huge help, it’s hard for me sometimes to put myself out there as the person for whom people will be showing up— but I have teamed up with friends to take the scary edge off. Me and my best friend had a combined birthday party last spring despite our birthdays being a month apart. No one cared about that, and we had so much fun with our goofy wacky theme!! And me and my roommates are all hosting a backyard party together at the end of Jan. This is a great arrangement for me as the shy one of the trio lol. So team up, if you and your friend see a tiktok of a theme dinner, or a costume party, or a scavenger hunt you’d like to recreate, toss it out there! Throw the soup party. Throw the dress like your fave character night. Throw the movie night with themed snacks.

My other disclaimer is that I have a healthy and moderate relationship with drinking, and because of that, I can have a glass of wine or something to help me out at a gathering where I feel very scared. They don’t call it liquid courage for nothing. That’s not an advantage everyone has, and I’m not necessarily advocating for it, but boy does it help me feel less like an alien robot when I’m out somewhere. Having a single g&t sometimes makes all the difference between going into the bar where my friend is playing a show and running back to my car and driving home listening to radiohead all alone. Weed has the opposite effect so I avoid it almost entirely lol. Just pay attention to the way substances affect you if they’re rife in your circles. If you’re sober, look for people who do lots of other things other than drinking— easier said than done, I know, but that’s another reason to throw your own little gatherings— they can be dinners or brunches or movies or hikes or museum outings where there’s no need for things you don’t partake in.

Ok the TLDR of all this is a) push yourself by force to put yourself out there. This is unfortunately an iron-clad prerequisite, like it or not (and I don’t like it…). Grab someone’s number, text them first, go to your random nice coworker’s birthday party where you’ll only know the host. throw a potluck so you can gather budding connections together. b) find what you love to do and do it with others, regularly. You don’t even have to like it that much I guess— just find a way to be exposed to the same people again and again and again. c) repeat to yourself over and over and over and over again that people are WAYYYY more receptive than you think they’ll be— they’re fucking lonely! Our way of life is fucking lonely!! And they think WAYYYY more positively about you than you think they do!!! I absolutely promise. I have ABYSMAL social self esteem and am frequently floored by this discovery but it’s very true. But people want me around because I’m funny and smart and kind and unique. And they want you around for all those same reasons, I promise.

And last thing, it takes fucking TIME. it takes forever. It takes practice and discomfort and stomping all over your hard-won instincts and behaving in ways that are terrifying and brand new to you. But keep seeing people, and take the leap of being the initiator, and give it time and effort and you can do it!!!!! Again these are just the things that have worked for me, your mileage may vary! But genuinely best of luck and I would LOVEEEE to hear updates :-)

PS (I hope this (or like any of this answer lmao help) doesn’t sound condescending, it’s not meant to come across that way, I just tend to ramble. And also I tend to forget that other people don’t always have as much trouble with these social skills as I’ve had so if I’m overexplaining that’s why!! Lol) you can rehearse things in your head as much as you want and no one will ever know. I literally have small talk scripts lmaooooooo. I’ve literally used strangers to practice a method of like interviewing people to get to know them where you just continue to ask questions relevant to what they just said. and you could practice saying things like “want to grab some coffee after this?” or like “hey let me make sure I grab your number, here’s my phone!” and no one will ever know you had to practice like you’re in an elementary school play LOL. I’ve learned so many like normal person social skills just by watching gregarious friends talk to people and straight up intentionally emulating them. bc im normal…. And also intentional and borderline saccharine phrasing like saying “I’d love to have you!” Instead of “if you wanna come” or something. Ok actually I’ve rambled on for soooo long now I hope at least a tiny shred of this was helpful :-)

Okay and another quick edit SORRY. CAMPING!!!!!!!!! If you have ANY desire to camp whatsoever DO IT!!!! NOTHING jumpstarts a new friendship like a camping trip, you can like fast forward through literal months of the early stages if you can get your friend to bring a friend etc. and if not, a nice long hike, if that’s something your body’s not gonna scream at you about haha. GO OUTSIDE WITH PEOPLE IM SO DEADLY SERIOUS.

[ashipiko]

Ashiii I hope you don't mind me askin a question about twst ashi!

I know the people she's close to are in her profile, like epel, floyd, leona, but exactly how do they act around her and vice versa? And are there any other characters? I'm very curious!! (also i'm working on something rn)

Take your time to answer if you need!! And you don't need to go through every character, just the ones that seem the most important/significant to you :D

HI TARURU!!!!!! 🤔 tbh this question isn’t really that hard to answer so I’ll go in depth about leona/epel? floyd used to be listed as a close relation but EHHH. tho I HAVE written little things for every single chara so that’ll be under the cut!!! (wrote it on discord so the like? rhythm behind the words might be weird cuz I cut them out www) 👁️👁️ TY for the interesting ask tho. hope you have fun w whatever you do!!!!

EPEL: yo the besties EVERRRRR!!!! their dynamic is countryboy that knows how to do so many things and princess who knows how to do so many things BUT neither of them know what the other does. THEY LEARN A NEW SKILL LIKE EVERY DAY THEYRE SO FUNNY. epel acts like his yeehaw self around ashi cuz they’re really close and he loves to catch a break wherever he can 🙏 ashi is more feisty and speaks her mind w/o worry (most of the time) w epel because there’s just a certain level of trust between them?? like you can speak your mind and really form a true connection. ashi who was never really close to anyone and epel who never really had friends his age growing up…… WWW I CRY. like imagine two elementary school students who are best friends. THEM.

LEONA: leona is his usual grumpy self and he doesn’t say it BUT he cares for ashi a lot. he’s not really a word person but more so an action type of guy? he’ll do things that’ll make her go “AWWWWWW” and stuff 🫶 ashi gets to be PEAK annoying and AGAIN doesn’t really worry about keeping up a front because she feels comfortable w leona. she’s the youngest at home after all!!! seems like they wouldn’t vibe at all but you’ll find em hanging out at the botanical garden together

OKKK EVERYONE ELSE IS UNDER THE CUT

—HEARTSLABYUL

RIDDLE: they’re pretty chills…… riddle likes ashi because she abides to the rules of heartslabyul (that she knows of) even if she’s not even a member of Heartslabyul herself <3 tho he does not understand what goes thru her head sometimes. “this slang is worse than cater sometimes and ACE??? ASHI YOU DESERVE BETTER YOURE TOO NICE FOR A RULEBREAKER LIKE HIM” vibes

ACE: do I need to even need to explain. I wrote 6K words about them and won’t shut up

DEUCE: THEY VIBE!!! NGL i do think that ashideuce have like sliiight similarities if you peek but deuce is more open and genuine than her 🤔 they’re very cute and I think Ashi wingmanning him could be cute <3 Ashi thinks he’s silly

CATER: people compare her to him sometimes and she’s like “……IMIG?” they would get along really well on paper but in reality they don’t interact all that often….. nothing special but I think they both know that they’ve got smth going on that’s not entirely the same

TREY: uhhhhh. TRULY JUST ACQUAINTANCES FRS <3 like he’ll ask her if she wants anything because she’s prefect and also cuz she’s like a regular at unbirthday parties but that’s bout it 😔

—SAVANACLAW

LEONA: accidental adoption at its finest. leona and ashi both have that bougie background even tho Ashi isn’t an ACTUAL princess so “out of pity” leona treats her 🙏 they have fun talks and ashi likes to draw w leona when she needs a break from ace or if he’s busy 🫶🫶 v chill……. leona could see right thru her act I think so he also likes to tease her and stuff. THEYRE FUN. i think they styled eachother’s hair to look like eachother once

RUGGIE: 😔 the person leona sends to do the dirty work to get food for Ashi…… they’re chill and they like to catch up!!!! ruggie tried to finesse her once and it almost worked 😭😭they talk sometimes when they both end up at Monstro lounge <3 homies!!! RUGGIE KINDA LEARNS TO ACCEPT HER AS A LITTLE SISTER TOO I THINK

JACK: truly just acquaintances pt 2 😔 it’s really hard to keep a convo going w these two and the only thing they’ve got in common is tsunderes. THE TYPE OF FRIENDS TO BE FRIENDS IN A GROUP but not 1 on 1

—OCTAVINELLE

AZUL: she wants to punch him SO BAD. twstshi acts nice w him cuz he’s her boss and she’s very chill but she SWEARS everytime he opens his mouth she wants to sock him across the face. azul thinks they are great business partners HE MEANS FRIENDS. MAYBE

FLOYD: FLOYD LOOOVES ASHI he thinks she’s SO fun to rile up. will squeeze her very hard if he spots her at basketball matches and if crabby doesn’t point out that she can’t breathe 🫶 ashi likes him but she still finds him VERY scary. unreliable coworker 😔 tho I think wayy later on when Ashi feels more vulnerable their mood swings would be veeeeery uh. ruh oh

JADE: HORRIFYING GET HIM OUT. WHY IS HE LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT. STOP SMILING AT ME. GET AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!

—SCARABIA

KALIM: they’re SO CUTE. ashi’s a foodie and so kalim invites her over to Scarabia a lot <3 slowly he helps her build up a spice tolerance…… slowly……….. both kinda naive but ashi’s more cautious than him I think

JAMIL: very skeptical of one another. vvvvvv sussy but ashi likes his food so. it’s okie <3

—POMEFIORE

VIL: ADMIRES HIM SM vil’s very neato and espec after book 5 Ashi can’t even be MAD at vil’s overblot because she’s like damn fam 😔 i lowkey getchu. it’s okie <3 and she holds absolutely NO GRUDGE against him. there’s like nothing bad about him she can pinpoint and she thinks he’s really hypesies

ROOK: kinda scary but he’s fun so it works out 🫶🫶 rook is the type to joke and tease Ashi and make her laugh I think but give these one off lines and she’s like “???? WHAT’S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN.” they’re funsies

EPEL: BESTIES WHO LOOK SO CUTE BUT WOULD KICK YOU IN THE NUTS IF THEY COULD. ashi loves hearing about everything epel and is SO invested in his hometown. she also loves all the apple cider he brings over and thinks it’s SOOOOOOOO good 🙏 ashi’s walls naturally come down w epel and TBH he doesn’t really notice or make a big deal about it? so they act very cute and proper w others but you might catch these two on the roof of NRC one day

—IGNIHYDE

IDIA: ashi hates him so much. so many reasons and she wishes she could curse him with rabies.

ORTHO: thinks he is insane and was fine w him until he threatened to blow up the entirety of NRC and now she thinks that he’s terrifying but she can’t mess w him MORE SO THAN IDIA because 😔 child

—DIASOMNIA

MALLEUS: very scary. she gets so scared and yelps everytime she sees him. she’s like constantly shaking when she talks to him and malleus is like teehee <3 gargoyle

LILIA: KINDA FREAKY WHERE DOES HE COME FROM. lilia think she’s very fun and he likes to talk to her!! tho she cannot eat his food. holy moly my guy like WHAT

SILVER: ashi’s just awed by his existence NGL like damn fam. how are you just like perfection 😭😭 she doesn’t talk to him much tho. like that person you look at and think about but don’t talk to <3 silver thinks she is a very nice girl

SEBEK: one sided affection and ashi is very “😨 huh. stop yelling at me” 😔 she wouldn’t punch him but she will give him the silent treatment cuz she’s so annoyed <33 she laughs everytime Ace disses him

GRIM: IFS LIKE. WEIRD because I don’t think Ashi is ALWAYS putting on her front w him because they’re together literally 24/7 but they care for eachother a lot 😔😔 like Ashi will be moody w Grim but gives him discipline like a dog WITH JUSTIFIED REASONS so he can’t really get mad at her…… even if she is moody she still seems cheery so like. weird middle ground. Ashi still plays it safe but he still gets a good look at a wider range of emotions w her

[sometimesanalice]

The holiday fic that keeps on giving! This one is so cozy, so homey, so lovely, and so emotional! ‘Tis the season to make me have all the feelings!

It was, admittedly, such a vain and shallow thought - no, desire to want to be the best at this. At throwing parties.— she just wants people to have a good time! (She’s so type a just like me 😂)

you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.  — this is so sweet, omg I love this

Because it had to be perfect. All of it. Because this was Bradley’s Christmas. His only Christmas that year. Nothing could go amiss.— I loved this reveal. Like yes that selfish bit where she wants to throw the best most talked about party, but also wanting it to be perfect for him!

And Bradley deserved the entire world and all the happiness he could possibly have. — he does, and he will because she love himmm

You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms. — that Zimmerman dress is lovely, but she would have looked just as cute in that A+O dress! Bradley would love her in a burlap bag!

Why tonight, when everything else was going so right, were you being bogged down by this insecurity in your own home - no, no, it was Bradley’s home, not yours.— oh she wants everything with him, doing that tug-a-war with herself! She is his homeeee

Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face. — *cries in single*

He hated buying himself clothes, even more so spending a lot of money on them, but he always liked whatever you picked out for him. — she’s got the best taste, in men and clothes. So of course she’d be great at shopping for him!

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired. — yes to this feeling, but also YES TO THE GALAAAAA

That was the crux of it. You were going to miss him so much you thought your heart was going to burst. — I’m so proud of her for voicing her thoughts here, he can tell she’s in an anxious spiral with the cleaning and organizing of the bar, but letting herself be vulnerable with him! They’ve grownnn

That’s why the party had to be perfect. Because it would remind Bradley of home and all he had to look forward to when he came back in three months. — the sweetest girl, he’s going to miss you so much! YOU ARE HIS HOMEEEE

“Give ‘em a break. You’d be the same if you could hold someone down long enough.”— lololololol you’re so savage for always dunking on Jake and I love it

Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.— I didn’t catch this the first time, I thought it was a bromance joke but now I knowwwwww

Your cheeks hurt from the massive smile stretching across your face as you looked fondly at Bradley. He was concentrating so hard, his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. And his long, graceful fingers were flying across the keys. — he is the sweetest! I love him playing her favorites for her!

He also was blushing, which was sweet. — 💖🥰

It was nice seeing them all carefree and happy and just lighter. Bradley glanced over his shoulder at you and winked. — oh this is a cozy lovely moment!

Pete took a sip of his beer and nodded. “The kid wouldn’t stop talking about your gift, I swear he told everyone on base.”— I love the idea of how excited Bradley is to give his gift that he literally cannot keep it to himself! 

“Oh, I’d love to,” you gushed, “but it’s Bradley’s call. It’s his house - what?” Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…”— FINALLY! Someone with some commonsense!

“Wouldn’t miss it, just make sure the kid doesn’t drink too much. He always gets a little chatty…” — that’s his dad 😭😭

 rather, he had called you a fresh young lady after you had unknowingly flipped him off at an intersection in another neighborhood, only to find out that he was the crotchety old man that lived next door to Bradley.— omgggggggg 😂 not them being the neighborhood troublemakers 

He sat, leaning against the chaise lounge, and idly sipped from a bottle of champagne that he kept putting down on the floor - though on a coaster, mind you. His hair was perfectly tousled and messy and he had a pleased smile on his face as he stared at the Christmas tree in front of him.— this image I want to hang it in the Louvre

“Clever boy…” “My smart girl”— ahhh I love themmm

Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.— merry Christmas to allllllllll

Oh god - oh god. You ruined it. You ruined Bradley’s Christmas. — ma’am you threw him a perfect party! You’re his dream girl! He loves you!

You reached out for the present like it was going to explode, barely even taking notice of how nicely it had been wrapped.— gift wrapping is a language of love and I stand by that! (Says the girl who dreams of having a wrapping room and has a whole system dedicated to gift wrap and bows)

“- I always want to come home to you - if you’ll have me?”— CRYING SOBBING WEEPING

Though to be fair, neither of you had paid as much attention to the movie as you had been too busy necking each other in the backseat of the Bronco.— honestly my dream date with Bradley would end the same way too 😂

Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.— they’re so cutttteeeeeee

“What about the couch?”“We just got it dry-cleaned - again.”— AHHHHHHHHHH

“We can be spontaneous upstairs…”— 😂 his old man back will thank him in the morning 

And I know it’s cliche to say, but it’s the goddamn truth - I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you, alright?— this whole section was so TENDER AND LOVELY

“Yes, Bradley. I love you even though you wouldn’t let me fuck you on the living room floor…”— blessss, she’s so bratty and I love her!

Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you. — 😭😭😭 THEIR HOME THEIR HOME THEIR HOME

Your parents had had the idea to send everything they normally would have put in Bradley’s Christmas stocking to him on the carrier. — this is so sweet, and of course the soapy titty pics really rounded it out! I love they got to have a Christmas FaceTime together!

“So, we’ll talk in two weeks, okay? Should be just after New Year’s, but keep emailing me. I love reading them when I get the chance.”— I can’t wait for the epistolary era!

“I love you, I love you so much and I’m so happy I get to come home to you, sweetheart.”— this is so sweet, and I love forever for them

And now I’m all kinds of emotional again. 😭💖

(christmas) baby please come home

summary: in which lieutenant commander bradshaw and his girlfriend throw a christmas party, complete with a christmas tree, copious amounts of champagne, blended friend groups, and the true meaning of the word home

OR what do you do when your boyfriend gets deployed over christmas and he get you two christmas presents?

pairing: Rooster x Fem!Reader 11.8k

warnings: 18+, explicit language, explicit sexual content

part of @notroosterbradshaw ‘s hello december challenge

masterlist and playlist

It was obvious that you knew how to throw a party. 

Furthermore, it was obvious that none of your and Bradley’s friends - baring Max, but only because he had professional help - would ever be able to pull off a party of the same caliber as your Christmas party. 

Subconsciously, you wanted your friends to be jealous of you and impressed with how well you and Bradley had pulled things off. It was, admittedly, such a vain and shallow thought - no, desire to want to be the best at this. At throwing parties.

The Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack was currently echoing throughout the downstairs on the Sonos, the twinkling jazz giving off a whimsical, yet sophisticated vibe, the Christmas tree looked stunning in the living room where it was covered in nearly three thousand white lights and countless ornaments, and the food that you and Bradley - but mainly Bradley - had spent all morning and last night preparing was laid out on festive serving dishes, complete with seasonally appropriate plates and napkins, perfectly folded in their napkin rings. 

You had scoured San Diego county for the most gorgeous garland possible to serve as the centerpiece on the dining room table, the berries and pine cones in it perfectly matching the plates and napkins and serving dishes. You had vacuumed the hardwood floor twice and washed it once before everyone came over and knew you would do so again once everyone left, if only so you could casually say it’s fine, you can keep your shoes on, we’re washing the floor tomorrow anyway. The candles weren’t overpowering, there was soft lighting all throughout the house, and you’d somehow wrangled a recipe for the cookies Bradley’s mom used to make from Sarah Kazansky and hadn't even burnt them.  

Because you wanted people to talk about it - the party. And to say did you see their bathroom? It was so clean, there weren’t any water spots on the faucet. The beef tenderloin appetizers were delicious, they had to have gotten the meat someplace special? No, definitely not Vons, maybe some local butcher in La Jolla? Aren’t they such a sweet couple? Such a good pair.

Because it had to be perfect. 

All of it.

Because this was Bradley’s Christmas. His only Christmas that year. Nothing could go amiss. And you wanted everyone to be jealous of it, so much so that tonight would be equal to if not better than how they celebrated the actual holiday with their own families - in their own homes - on Christmas Day. 

Because they weren’t going to be spending the holiday on a drafty aircraft carrier in the middle of the Pacific far from home like Bradley was. 

And Bradley deserved the entire world and all the happiness he could possibly have. The way his face had lit up when you’d first suggested the party after he’d gotten his orders at the beginning of November would stick with you for months. You’d told him that everything would be perfect, that you would pack enough Christmas spirit and love and gifts and food into one evening that it would take the sting out of being away from home - being away from you - at Christmas. Even if for just one night.

The guests had all arrived, some promptly and some not-so-promptly, with you and Bradley greeting them all, telling them to help themselves to all the food and drinks they wanted. Apparently, Max had a surprise for later that you prayed was not him putting on a Santa suit. But the conversation and drinks were flowing with ease, despite the blending of your two friend groups for the first time. 

It was a good party. 

Except right now, it was your turn to be the jealous one.

You watched, enviously, as one of your work friends leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of prosecco in her hand, while the other gripped Jake Seresin’s bicep. The jealousy wasn’t because of Jake or any attention he may have been giving her, mind you. 

(Because no, no - while you may no longer have had an intense hatred for Bradley’s nemesis cum friend, you still didn’t actively seek out his presence and you definitely didn’t want his attention - not for anything other than a great party as he left your - no, Bradley’s house later that night.)

No - you were jealous of her dress. Her gorgeous, deep garnet, midi-length, sleeveless dress. That looked absolutely stunning on her, though a touch too fancy for a Christmas party in South Park. She looked gorgeous, beautiful - statuesque. 

You absentmindedly fixed the bow on your wrap dress. Your long sleeved, silk wrap dress - that also did plenty to hide any unwanted lines or bumps around your stomach. And your arms. 

Weeks ago, back when the party was but a pipe dream, you’d been eyeing this absolutely adorable, sleeveless, mini-dress for the event. Like your friend’s dress, it probably erred on the side of slightly too fancy for a house party, but it had been so pretty and so perfect. It had sat in your cart online for at least two weeks - you just wanted to see if it would go on sale before you finally pulled the trigger. 

Until Thanksgiving. 

When you saw how unflattering your arms looked in the black cashmere tank you’d brought for dinner to your parents’ house. You thanked your past self for having the forethought to pack a cardigan, which didn’t come off until hours later after all your aunts and uncles and cousins had left and you were snuggled up in Bradley’s arms. 

Maybe you should try the HIIT classes on your Peloton instead of all those beginner rides you were still doing with Cody? Or get arm weights? The girls who worked out in the front two rows of your pilates class swore by them. They barely needed any input from the instructor - they just knew how to move their bodies that way. Or maybe you could ask your parents for a higher Class Pass subscription for Christmas? It would give you something to focus on while Bradley was gone. 

You hadn’t been this self conscious at the gala back in October and that dress was far more daring than anything you’d ever worn before; practically open back, with a risqué slit and a deep v neckline, to say nothing of what you had worn just for Bradley later that night. 

So, why now? Why tonight when you were supposed to be enjoying this time with your boyfriend and all your friends before the holidays? Why tonight, when everything else was going so right, were you being bogged down by this insecurity in your own home - no, no, it was Bradley’s home, not yours.

Was it because he was leaving? And you didn’t want one of his last images of you for three months to be your arms in a too tight dress? Because that was so shallow and silly and ridiculous. 

But what if it was true? Bradley was so pretty and handsome and charming and sweet, what if there was someone else on that boat that also thought he was pretty and handsome and charming and sweet? And you’d seen all the other aviators and naval personnel at that gala, they were stunning. What if Bradley thought that too - no, no, no. You weren’t going to focus on that for one of your last nights with him. 

Bradley loved you, Bradley proved how much he loved you every single day, Bradley catered to your every whim about this party with the biggest smile on his face. 

Bradley loved you. 

You were just being ridiculous and shallow and over dramatic and spiraling before he left. Bradley loved you, Bradley loved you. He loved you. He - was wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“How’s it going?” His voice rumbled in your ear and you leaned back against him. 

God, he was so strong and soft and warm and smelled so pretty all the time. You were going to miss him so much. You felt him fiddle with the bow tying your burgundy dress together and ducked your head. 

“Good, just came to get a drink.” Which you had been doing - about three minutes ago. “And wanted to make sure everyone in here was all set.”

Bradley hummed and swayed you back and forth in his arms. “Look at you, hostess with the mostess - or however that goes. You want me to make you another drink?”

You nodded. “Please.”

You both had decided to set up the bar in the kitchen, while keeping the food in the dining room and the dessert in the sitting room for later. Hours ago, before you had even hopped in the shower, the bar had been painstakingly set up and organized. Now, it needed some work. You cursed yourself for not checking on it earlier in the evening - you couldn’t believe your guests had been serving themselves from this all night. 

The glasses were no longer in neat rows, organized by type, the bowl with the limes was running dangerously low, and the caps to the liquor bottles and the champagne corks were scattered across the table. Without a second thought, you started organizing everything before Bradley could even get you a fresh glass. 

You could tell he wanted to say something, but - at least for that moment - he just rubbed your back and then poured you another glass of champagne, making sure to put the bottle back properly. Meanwhile, you scooped up the stray corks and foil and other bottle caps and threw them in the garbage underneath the sink. You had enough time, maybe you could pop those dirty wine glasses in the empty dishwasher? Wait - there was a puddle of condensation underneath an open bottle of champagne. You frowned. Clearly, someone hadn’t put it back in the bucket. Who would do that? Didn’t they know to put it back exactly where -  

“- You good?” 

Bradley’s voice was so soft and reassuring and you couldn’t believe you’d soon be going without hearing it for months. Unable to wait another second, you wrapped your arms around him in a hug, which he eagerly returned and you nuzzled his chest. Bradley’s shirt for the party was an exceptionally soft flannel in a solid navy color that you’d found on sale. He hated buying himself clothes, even more so spending a lot of money on them, but he always liked whatever you picked out for him. 

Maybe you could buy him some new clothes while he was gone? By now, you knew what he liked and didn’t like - right down to the colors and fabric types. He needed some new undershirts - and socks. You nuzzled your face into his chest. He felt so warm and soft and smelled so good. You had to buy a travel sized bottle of his cologne before he left. 

“You sure you’re okay, kid?” he asked again. 

“Just a little overwhelmed - and kinda tired.” You pulled your head back to look at him, but the two of you still kept your arms around the other. 

“Well,” Bradley started, “to be fair, you did do like all the work for this party, think it’s valid to be a little tired, sweetheart.”

“What? No?” You were offended on his behalf. “Bubs, you made all the food and -”

“- Yeah, but you helped with the food and did all the work getting the house ready.”

You cocked your head, considering this. “I mean, I did. Didn’t I?” Bradley chuckled. “Okay, fine - I’m tired. But it’s a good tired, I think?”

“A good tired, huh?” His thumbs were making the most soothing circles on your hips.

“Like a heart full tired? A changing for dinner after a spending a day at the beach tired - no, wait. A post gala eating french fries in bed and watching Moonstruck tired?” An after you fucked me so hard I could barely remember my own name tired. 

“You should’ve just led with that last one.” He kissed your temple and ran his hands up and down the silk fabric covering your arms. “Would’ve known exactly what you were talking about then.”

You lightly shoved his chest and then pulled him back in for a hug. “I’m also gonna miss you a lot…”

That was the crux of it. You were going to miss him so much you thought your heart was going to burst. And enjoying all the Christmas festivities tonight - on the second Saturday in December - made it all the more apparent that Bradley wasn’t going to be with you over the holidays. He wouldn’t be with you again until March. 

You two had gotten through plenty of training missions, short diplomatic visits, and off-sites - on your end - over the last eight months. But this was Bradley’s first, real deployment. 

God, if only Emily Simpson could see you now. You and Bradley had both been so cocky, so confident back in October at the gala about how effortlessly you handled the time spent apart. But you hadn’t been staring down a three month long deployment back then. 

Three months was a long time. Six pay cycles, at least twelve trips to the grocery, four off-sites, the entirety of Q1, five nail appointments, twenty four pilates classes, and if he knocked you up that very night, it could be the entirety of a first trimester of pregnancy. Not that you wanted to be pregnant - at least not for a while. Like quite a while. It was just a way to compare time. You didn’t want to be pregnant. 

Three months, three months, three months. 

And then he’d come home to you. To you and your life together.

That’s why the party had to be perfect. Because it would remind Bradley of home and all he had to look forward to when he came back in three months. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too.  Never really had someone to miss before on one of these - not like this.” 

And then he kissed you - quick, little butterfly kisses that soon turned bolder and more daring, especially considering there were five or so other people milling about the kitchen. Bradley’s tongue licked your bottom lip, eventually coaxing your mouth open. He tasted like the old fashioned you saw him drinking earlier. You slid your arms up his chest to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer and fiddled with the ends of his soft hair. 

The sounds of the party disappeared around you - you could no longer hear Frank Sinatra singing Jingle Bells, Jake and Georgie talking in the corner, or Javy getting drinks for him and his girlfriend to your right.

All you could focus on was Bradley. And how warm and soft and strong he felt in your arms and how -

“- Fuck’s sake, Bradshaw. Do you want us to leave or…”

You turned around to face Jake and Georgie, the latter of whom looked beyond embarrassed, and leaned back against Bradley’s chest. Shit - you’d forgotten you had an audience, especially Jake and Javy.

“Sorry…” You felt warm all over at getting caught. Normally, you and Bradley weren’t big on PDA, but you’d been needy lately - both of you had been. 

Further down to your right, Javy just chuckled. “Give ‘em a break. You’d be the same if you could hold someone down long enough.” Bradley laughed, while Jake turned beat red.

While him and Javy started chirping at each other, Bradley took your hand and led you out of the kitchen, past all the guests congregating in the dining room and over towards the sitting room. 

“Here, I know what’ll cheer you up.”

There were only a couple people in this part of the house - Caroline and Max, Bob and Callie, and Natasha and Rory, the latter of whom had gone with her to the gala back in October. They were a relatively quiet crowd and looked to be captivated by a story Max was telling. But then again, people were always captivated by Max. 

“…so I say to Garoppolo, ‘you really wanna get the shit beaten out of you for the second time this week?’ Because a guy who folds in front of the fucking Broncos’ defensive line is not one I think can handle being humiliated like this on - aww, if it isn’t Bradley-Boy and our lovely hostess. Come here and give me a kiss, sweetheart.” You chuckled and started over towards Max. “No, not you, darling. I meant Bradley-Boy.” 

With giggles and jeers, everyone turned towards Bradley, who was definitely blushing. But ever the dutiful host, he trudged over towards Max and planted a sloppy kiss on his forehead. 

You had met Max over a year ago via your best friend from college, Caroline. Bradley, on the other hand, had met Max in late March at Mission Beach, right before the two of you had started going out. 

Since moving back to California, Bradley had taken up surfing again and relished his weekend mornings out in the chilly Pacific. It had taken a couple weeks for the guys to realize they were both regulars and get past the initial head nod greeting, but after that they got on like a house on fire. Despite Max being a typical nepotism baby, VC-firm-bro type and Bradley the outgoing, naval man, they were each other’s best friend.

And to be perfectly honest, you thought they may have been a little in love with each other.

Who knows, maybe you would have been at Bradley and Max’s holiday party if you hadn’t met him in April.

“All good now, peaches?” Bradley teased and then turned to everyone else in their little group. “Just so you know, the story ends with Jimmy G challenging Maxi-Pad to a closest to the pin contest and Max shanking his tee shot.”

You laughed and wrapped your free arm back around Bradley’s waist. “Was this how you planned to cheer me up?”

“Oh, god. What’d you do now, Rooster?” Natasha teased. 

“Can I call you ‘Rooster?’” Max asked, much to Caroline’s delight.

“Absolutely fucking not,” Bradley said and then turned towards Natasha. “And nothing, just trying to do everything so can to make sure my girl has a lovely evening.” Everyone let out various sighs and swoons, except Nat and Max, who feigned gagging. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

He grabbed your free hand again and brought you over to the upright piano in the corner, next to where Callie and Bob were lounging on the loveseat. You desperately hoped Bradley was going to play for you - maybe even some Christmas carols. He had such a natural talent for it, even beyond his usual Hard Deck repertoire of that damn Jerry Lee Lewis song. He could play Debussy, Ravel, Schumann - anything, really. You figured he’d start off with Jingle Bells or something like that, but he surprised you with something new.

Bradley’s fingers twinkled out the opening notes to Linus and Lucy and you, and the others in the sitting room, couldn’t help but laugh. He had been right - this did cheer you up. You had always loved the Peanuts. 

Growing up, you’d gone to the Charles Schulz Museum in Santa Rosa too many times to count. It became your favorite place during your parents’ divorce and you always begged your dad to take you whenever you were having a bad day. But then, when the divorce had been finalized and you, your dad and brother eventually moved down to Berkeley, you didn’t get the opportunity to go as often. But your love for the cartoon characters never died and you had the sneaking suspicion that Bradley had learned the song for you - this was the first time you’d ever heard him play it.

You took a hearty sip of your champagne and leaned your arms on the top of the piano, eventually resting your cheek against your fist. Your cheeks hurt from the massive smile stretching across your face as you looked fondly at Bradley. He was concentrating so hard, his tongue was peeking out of his mouth. And his long, graceful fingers were flying across the keys. 

You couldn’t imagine how long it took him to learn this if he was already off book. Did you mention his fingers? His hands? God, they were beautiful. Strong and long and corded - was that the right word? You recalled it from those regency romance novels you had hidden on your Kindle. God, you loved him so much. So fucking much. You’d never loved a person this much before - oh, you were going to miss him so much.

“You two are just like Lucy and Schroeder,” Callie cooed, snapping you out of your thoughts and causing Bradley to fumble a couple of notes. He also was blushing, which was sweet. 

A couple more people filtered into the sitting room, drawn in by the music, and soon people were throwing out requests for Bradley to play while others chatted in the background. He took Pete’s suggestion of Jingle Bells and soon played a jazzy version of the song. 

While Bradley played, the older man came up to you to chat. Penny couldn’t make it to the party, which was admittedly a bit of a disappointment, but she was hoping to stop by later once things wound down a bit at the Hard Deck. 

“Hell of a party, kid.” He toasted you with his beer. 

“Thanks, I just wanted to do something nice for Bradley.”

“Pretty sure you could’ve gotten a pizza and he would’ve been happy.”

You considered that. “True, but that hardly sounds fun - plus, this way I could get a new outfit.”

Pete smiled and you both glanced over towards the piano for a moment as Bradley got Natasha and Bob to sing along with him. It was nice seeing them all carefree and happy and just lighter. Bradley glanced over his shoulder at you and winked. 

“It’s nice seeing him like this,” Pete said. “Hell, last Christmas it was like pulling teeth to get the kid over to Penny’s for Christmas Eve and to see him get a tree and have people over at his place is just - it makes me really happy. Sorry if that’s corny or -”

“- No,” you reassured him, “well, maybe a little. But corny is good sometimes. Especially around the holidays.”

“You guys gonna do gifts tomorrow or…”

You shook your head. “Nah, we’re gonna do them tonight after everyone leaves.”

Pete took a sip of his beer and nodded. “The kid wouldn’t stop talking about your gift, I swear he told everyone on base.”

You felt yourself heat up and glanced over at Bradley again. “Really?” Pete nodded. “I’m nervous now, we promised we were only doing one present, so I hope he likes mine...”

“He will,” Pete sounded certain. “You think you guys will do this at your place every year? Maybe start a new tradition?”

That was a lovely thought. Celebrating Christmas with Bradley for the next x amount of years. Plus, doing this before Christmas would give everyone the opportunity to get together before the actual holidays. 

“Oh, I’d love to,” you gushed, “but it’s Bradley’s call. It’s his house - what?”

Pete cut you off with a look. “Come on, by now you know it’s your house as much as Bradley’s…”

Oh, gosh. You hoped so - one day, at least. The two of you barely spent a night apart, baring whenever one of you was away for work. You barely considered your apartment your home anymore. Instead, it was on the couch in Bradley’s living room, watching TV. Or cooking breakfast together on the weekends and watching Sunday Morning at the kitchen table. Laying beside him in bed at night, his big arms wrapped around you, as you whispered how much you loved each other. You had never felt this way before Bradley, like another person was home. 

And you wanted to be home all the time. 

You could feel the heat creep up your neck, the warmth only amplified by Bradley’s soothing voice singing Let It Snow. 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Pete apologized, “I just wanted you to know that I can see how much you guys care about each other. And he’s my kid - at the end of the day, I just want him to be happy.” He laid a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you ducked your head before nodding.

Back when you had first met him, you had imagined that gaining Pete’s approval was how you would have felt had Bradley’s parents been alive to give it to you. You thought about them often - more often than you’d ever let Bradley think - and especially as of late. Would they have liked you? Would they have gotten along with your parents? From what you’d been told, they would have made amazing grandparents. Maybe Bradley would even have had more siblings? Maybe, maybe, maybe.

“He makes me really happy, too,” you whispered. Pete pulled you in for a hug and then the two of you just watched Bradley playing for a few moments while the party continued around you two. 

“I’m gonna get another beer, you want anything?” Pete asked. 

You just shook your head. “Nah, I’m good for now, but thanks again for coming. It means a lot to both of us.”

“Wouldn’t miss it, just make sure the kid doesn’t drink too much. He always gets a little chatty…” And then Pete set off towards the kitchen, leaving you alone, but only for a moment until you heard Max’s voice in the hallway.

“Caro, darling, will you help me with something outside…” You crept over towards him, curious to see what he was up to and why he needed Caro’s help.

Caroline didn’t even look up from her phone. “I’m not giving you a handjob, darling.”

“Oh, please don’t,” you drawled, alerting them both to your presence, “Mr. Harrington already thinks we’re delinquents, can’t have him thinking we associate with them, too,” you said referring to your - no, Bradley’s neighbor. 

Mr. Harrington hadn’t exactly called you and Bradley delinquents - rather, he had called you a fresh young lady after you had unknowingly flipped him off at an intersection in another neighborhood, only to find out that he was the crotchety old man that lived next door to Bradley. He had been waiting for you in the driveway when you’d gotten home a few minutes later, demanding to talk to Bradley about you. But the old man hadn’t stood a chance with you and Bradley had just stood on the porch with a proud smile on his face as you gave him a piece of your mind. Since then, he’d just pass silent judgment whenever he saw you outside.

Max held up two fingers. “I’ll be on my best behavior, Scout’s honor.”

“It’s three fingers, dumbass.”

He breezed past you and started towards the door, gesturing for Caroline to follow him. “Good thing I was never a Boy Scout then…”

“Please, Max. Just tell me if you’re going to -”

“- Secrets, secrets are only fun unless you don’t share with anyone -”

“- That’s not even how it goes!” 

Max shrugged and grabbed Caroline’s hand, pulling her close to his side. “It’ll be fun, we promise! Plus, maybe Max won’t even come back to the party…”

Oh, he was definitely doing the Santa thing. But at this point, maybe it would be fun and memorable? And maybe you were just drunk enough to let it happen. 

“Fine, fine. As long as Max doesn’t come back to the party, you can do whatever you have planned -” 

Max cut you off with a sloppy kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, love. Now, Caro! Your assistance, please!”

You waved them off towards the front door and made your way back to the sitting room where Bradley was taking requests for his next song. 

His eyes were scanning the room for whom you realized was you and a great, big smile spread across his face. “Nah, I got one already. Just needed my girl in here for this.” You chuckled and walked over towards the piano. “Figured we had to end on a high note, plus I heard a rumor Santa’s coming…”

There were hoots and hollers throughout the room, which didn’t let up even as Bradley played the first notes of the song he apparently needed you for assistance. 

“I’ll sing the first few lines, but then you gotta take over, alright, sweetheart?”

You sat next to him on the narrow bench and giggled, not quite knowing what he had up his sleeve, but more than ready to go along for the ride. “You got it, rocketman.”

Bradley pecked you on the lips and then turned to the room as he played. 

“I really can’t stay…baby, it’s cold outside…I’ve got to go ‘way…baby, it’s cold outside…”

Oh god. 

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

Hours later, after all your guests had left, fuller and far drunker than they’d been when they’d arrived, you and Bradley were tidying up the living room. The dishwasher was rumbling in the kitchen, the first of many loads you’d have to do tonight and tomorrow, but it was drowned out by the music still playing on the Sonos, while the extra food had been put away in the fridge.

From your spot across the room where you were fluffing the couch cushions, you glanced over towards Bradley. He sat, leaning against the chaise lounge, and idly sipped from a bottle of champagne that he kept putting down on the floor - though on a coaster, mind you. His hair was perfectly tousled and messy and he had a pleased smile on his face as he stared at the Christmas tree in front of him. His right hand was absentmindedly running up and down his thigh, just begging for you to ride it.

You joined him on the floor and he wordlessly passed the bottle of champagne to you before throwing his arm around your shoulders. 

“You did good, kid,” he said suddenly. 

A smile lit up your face. “Really?” Brady chuckled at your earnestness. “You’re not just saying that because this is like the first halfway decent party you’ve ever -”

“- Hey! I’ve been to plenty of decent parties! But I think - I think that this might be the best one yet.”

As a reward for his sweetness, you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “You think everyone got along? I only overheard one argument between Caro and Jake.” And it had been over the latest cryptocurrency scandal of all things. 

“Yeah, but to be fair, I think trauma bonding over your singing really brought everyone together.”

You were not as bad as Bradley had said - at the very least, you could carry a tune. Granted, you wouldn’t be on the Voice anytime soon, but if you were an SNL cast member and needed to sing for a sketch, you might be okay. And no one really focused on the actual singing during Baby It’s Cold Outside - it wasn’t exactly the paragon of Christmas songs or social norms. 

But it was just about the perfect duet, in that it was a crowd pleaser, a little slutty, and campy as hell. And as it so happened, you had been feeling a little slutty with all the champagne you had drunk throughout the evening. Plus, with Bradley on the keys and no one else sober enough to make fun of your less than stellar singing skills, you had been a glutton for attention. You had used your champagne coupe as a microphone and had only spilled a couple drops - at first.

“- But baby, it's cold outside -”

“ - This welcome has been -”

“ - How lucky that you dropped in -”

“ - So nice and warm -”

“ - Look out the window at that storm -”

“ - My sister will be suspicious -”

“ - Gosh, your lips look delicious -” Bradley kissed your proffered hand and you shimmied around the piano bench, eventually draping yourself over his shoulders while he continued playing.

Would you regret it in the morning? Probably. Did the song have a weird history? Yes. But it was your goddamn Christmas party! And you had wanted to have fun and fawn over your boyfriend. It had also been a good distraction from what you had correctly assumed was Max planning to crash the party as Santa with a sleigh full of presents for everyone. But Max was richer than Croesus; he could afford it.

“Come on, Bradshaw. How’s she been this year? Naughty or nice?”

You shot Bradley a glance, curious as to what his answer would be. But he just smiled wryly and toasted Max with his drink before taking a sip.

You closed the distance between the two of you and whispered in his ear, “Clever boy…”

He grabbed your ass, thankfully out of sight of your guests. “My smart girl…”

“Is that what you want me to be tonight?”

Frankly, you had been shocked Bradley hadn’t kicked everyone out then and there. 

But now you were cozy and tired in all the best ways and had Bradley to yourself for the rest of the evening. You burrowed your face into his chest and pressed a couple kisses to the column of his neck, suddenly desperate to touch him. It seemed Bradley was of the same mindset and carefully settled you on his lap. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling you closer and you shifted your attention to his lips. 

Somehow, the two of you wound up laying on the floor at the edge of the Christmas tree. The soft lights made Bradley’s brown eyes appear like pools of chocolate and you flushed. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his lap, already feeling the bulge forming in his jeans. Shit - were you going to fuck underneath the Christmas tree? Like properly fuck on the floor underneath the Christmas tree.

You started grinding against him, desperate to be closer, and then kissed along his neck in the hopes of leaving a reminder of this night for him. You peered up at the Christmas tree, lost in the beauty of the moment, when you suddenly noticed something. 

The presents.

The presents under the tree.

The three presents under the tree. 

Except…

There were only supposed to be two presents under the tree. One from each of you. You had been very clear about that right after Thanksgiving. Had even set a price limit.

Fuck. Oh, no. No, no, no. You pulled back and Bradley chased your lips with his own.

“Bubs! We said one present each!” 

He shrugged underneath you and kept rubbing his hands in soothing circles on your hips. “It’s nothing - well, it’s not nothing. But it’s just something I’ve been thinking about for a while and I figured this would be a good time.”

“But - but I only got you one!” 

Oh god - oh god. You ruined it. You ruined Bradley’s Christmas. You knew you should’ve gotten him that Otis Redding vinyl, too. But a Theragun? What had you been thinking? That was such a dumb gift. So impersonal, so boring, so basic. It was on three different gift guides from the Strategist for fuck’s sake. You figured it would be good for his back while he was deployed, you knew it had been giving him a lot of trouble lately. But now that Bradley had given you two gifts? In two separate boxes? 

You didn’t think the ornament you’d gotten him counted as a separate gift. Tacking it onto the box was just something your family had always done.

Clearly noticing the panic on your face, Bradley sat up slightly. “Hey, hey. It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s -”

“- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to ruin everything. I knew I should’ve had a back up present for you-”

He said your name firmly and you looked up at him. “- You didn’t ruin anything, alright? Hey, why don’t you open it first and then we can talk about it, okay?”

“Okay…”

You reached out for the present like it was going to explode, barely even taking notice of how nicely it had been wrapped. (Granted, you were still you, so you did actually notice, but probably would have fawned over the quaint wrapping paper and grosgrain ribbon a bit more had you not already been wigging out.) Next to you, Bradley bit his lip as he watched you peel through the paper. Why was he so nervous? He always gave you the best presents.

At first, there was nothing but a small gift box. It wasn’t terribly heavy. And it definitely wasn’t jewelry. Mainly because any of the jewelry you actually would have liked was definitely not within the spending limit, which Bradley knew. But also, it just didn’t feel like jewelry. It couldn’t have been an ornament, he wouldn’t have been this nervous.

So, what the fuck was it?

You slid your finger underneath the flap of the box and popped the lid open. But then there was the tissue paper. Goddamnit, Bradley! Why was he so good at wrapping presents! You glanced up at him only to see that he was blushing. Properly blushing. Like pink neck, pink cheeks - hell, even the tips of his ears were pink - blushing. 

Unable to take the suspense a moment longer, you dove into the tissue paper to find -

“- A key?” Your fingers gently picked up the offending object, only belatedly noticing that the key fob matched your favorite work tote bag. 

Bradley nodded. “Yeah, I’ve been wanting to ask you to move in with me for ages, it’s just we had so much time until it would become an issue, but then I got deployed and I know your lease will just about be up by the time I get back in the spring. So, I figured now would be a good time to ask if you wanted to move in with me? But if you think it’s too soon, I can totally wait. However long it takes for you to be comfortable with it is fine with me - I just want to have my life with you.”

“Bubs…” your voice was thick. “I uhh -”

“- I always want to come home to you - if you’ll have me?”

Oh god, oh god, oh god. You let out a disbelieving laugh. You would have Bradley Bradshaw in any way you could get him. He was your home.

You wiped away a wayward tear. “Bradley, this is - this is so unbelievably perfect. Yes, yes, I will move with you.”

He surged forward to kiss you and you temporarily forgot all your previous worries because Bradley wanted to move in with you. He wanted to share furniture and go grocery shopping for food that would go in the same fridge. He wanted to wake up beside you every single morning and come home to you every single evening and go to sleep beside you every single night. He wanted everything. And that’s what you wanted to give him.

“God, I love you so much.”

You never got tired of hearing him say that. “I love you, too. Sorry I made such a big deal about the presents…”

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just put it in with the other gift, I get how it could have thrown you off.”

He was being nice and not pushing it for the moment, which you really appreciated. “Say, why don’t you open your gift from me and then I’ll open your other one?”

You crawled over towards the other two presents under the tree and gave the one that said to; rocketman to Bradley, while you took the other one with your name on it. It was decently sized and relatively light. The thing with Bradley that always made you nervous was that he gave the best presents.

For your birthday, he had not only organized a trip for the two of you out to Catalina Island, but he had also learned how to fucking sail Penny’s boat, so he could be the one to take you there himself. He had been so excited and had looked so cute in his white linen pants and navy blue button down and you swore you had never been more attracted to him. 

And then, for your six month anniversary, he had somehow gotten you two into Addison out in Carmel Valley for dinner and then followed that up with a trip to the drive-in to see a special showing of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off. Though to be fair, neither of you had paid as much attention to the movie as you had been too busy necking each other in the backseat of the Bronco.

In short, he was a prince among men. Well, except when he wasn’t. But that wasn’t often. So, you were excited, but wary to open his gift, knowing nothing could possibly top the house key.

You tore through the wrapping paper to find another box similar to the one from earlier, except this one was heavier. Beneath the tissue paper laid a thick white envelope and an apron in a Liberty pattern. Your smile grew as you opened the envelope and saw that Bradley had gifted you cooking lessons for the next three months.

“Bubs.” You nudged his shoulder. “This is perfect, thank you. The apron is super cute, too.”

Bradley chuckled. “Now you can stop wearing mine and hopefully stop burning risotto -”

“- It was one time!” 

“Yeah and you almost burned down your apartment.” You made a face and he made one right back before turning serious. “But I thought it would be nice, something for you to do while I’m gone.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’m excited and I’m gonna make you the best dinner you’ve ever had when you come home to me, alright?”

“It’s a date.” 

“Perfect, now open yours!” You pushed the present towards him. 

Bradley was one of those people that opened presents like they were going to save the wrapping paper, which meant he did it slowly and purposefully. This normally didn’t bother you, but you were already a little on edge from earlier and had to sit on your hands to stop you from ripping the paper off yourself.

First, he took off the little ornament you had affixed to the package. Harkening back to your first date, you had gotten him a Saturn V Rocket ornament to add to the tree, giving your rocketman something to aspire to.

He shook his head. “I’ll get there one day, sweetheart…” he said fondly. “Now let’s see what we have here.”

The nerves settled in your stomach again and you barely let him unwrap the present before you jumped on him with an explanation.

“Wait, is this one of those -”

“ - It’s a Theragun. I know I make fun of you for having a sore back and being old a lot, but I thought this could help when you’re deployed and I’m not around to tend to your every need,” you teased.

Bradley conceded a nod. “You do give good back massages…” You preened. “But I get these ads on my Instagram all the time, so this is perfect, thank you.”

“I figured it wasn’t something you’d buy for yourself and it’ll come in hand -”

“- I bet it’s a wicked strong vibrator - owww!”

“Bradley!” You giggled. Holy shit, you hadn’t even thought of that. There were like five different speeds on that thing and six different attachments. Fuck. “In that case, maybe I should keep it…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” He slid the box behind his back and you crawled over to steal it away from him.

But before you could wrap your arms around him, Bradley pulled you into his lap and eventually the Theragun was pushed away and the two of you were sprawled out on the floor making out like a bunch of horny teenagers again.

Goddamn - you really were gonna fuck underneath the Christmas tree, weren’t you? Now that would be the perfect memory for Bradley to take with him. Festive and fun and spontaneous.

His hands felt sinful as they crept up your thighs. It was like he was mapping out the slowest route to his destination, especially as they cupped your ass and ground your body against his. Suddenly, you let out a hiss as your elbow hit the hardwood floor, but quickly reassured Bradley that you were okay once he stopped to check in with you.

He whispered your name. “I need you so badly.”

“- Fuck, me too. Want you to take me right here -”

“- Owww,” Bradley let out a groan against your lips.

You immediately pulled back, concern lacing your features. “Shit, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just - I don’t think we should do this on the floor?”

“But it’s very spur of the moment?” You glanced around the living room, past the Christmas tree and the wrapping paper from your respective presents. “What about the couch?”

“We just got it dry-cleaned - again.”

You sat further back on his lap and Bradley propped himself up on his elbows. Your wrap dress draped prettily over your bare thighs. “We can put a towel down?”

“Isn’t it upstairs?”

You made a face. “I could go get it? Or we could break out a new one?”

“Then I might as well come upstairs with you -”

“- But I want it to be spontaneous!”

He rolled his hips and you sighed. “We can be spontaneous upstairs…”

“Yeah, but…” You could feel the tears starting to form and your throat closing up.

Bradley tried to get in your line of sight after you ducked your head. “Hey, what is it? It’s alright.”

You sniffled. “I just want you to have some good memories before you leave and be spontaneous - especially since during the party I was pretty stressed and uptight -” The last word came out bitterly, but Bradley didn’t let you finish your sentence. 

“- Hey, none of that, alright? I knew you were a little stressed, but just chalked it up to the party. What’s really going on, sweetheart?”

You wanted to tell him. That you were going to miss him and wanted him to be able to think of the two of you doing all these fun and exciting and wonderful things before he left. That you didn’t want him to think of you crying and puffy eyed and sad. That you didn’t want him to think of you having sex in your bed, like any other night, but how you couldn’t even make it upstairs because you needed each other so much, so desperately and had to make due with the living room floor. 

Just say you were tired. Just say you were tired. 

But when Bradley took your hand and threaded your fingers together and started drawing circles across your palm, the tears came. And came and came and didn’t stop. You rubbed at your eyes with your free hand and repositioned yourself to lay beside him. 

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, come here.” Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and let you rest your head on his chest. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, honey.” 

Once the tears slightly abated, you took in a deep breath to ground yourself. “I wanted everything to be perfect for you since you’re not going to be home for Christmas and all this stuff went wrong -”

“- Sweetheart, baby, no, no. It didn’t go wrong, everything went really really right.”

“Really?” you whispered.

Bradley chuckled. “Yeah, best Christmas I’ve had since - fuck, I can’t remember when. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around you.

“I know it was dumb to be worried about it - and to let myself get upset over it - but I think I was just so focused on the party and the presents and making everything perfect because I don’t want to think too much about you leaving.” You sniffled. “And I feel like that makes me seem childish or like I can’t handle this - your job, I mean. But I’m really just going to miss you, so fucking much. And I’ve never felt like this before.”

The look in Bradley’s eyes after you unloaded all that made you feel ten times lighter and you regretted not saying anything earlier. 

“Sweetheart…” He tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s definitely not dumb to be worried about stuff like that and I know you can handle all of this - I’m not worried in that respect. I just want you to know how much I appreciated every single thing you’ve done for me these last couple weeks trying to make sure I had a good Christmas. And I know it’s cliche to say, but it’s the goddamn truth - I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you, alright?”

Your heart soared and you felt the tears forming again at his words. I don’t care what we do for Christmas as long as I get to spend it at home with you. Because in the end, that was all that really mattered. You just kept your reply simple. “Alright, rocketman.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You kissed him again. “I love you so much, bubs.”

“Even though I’m old and don’t think we should fuck on the living room floor?” 

You chuckled at his attempt to bring some levity into an otherwise heavy conversation. “Yes, Bradley. I love you even though you wouldn’t let me fuck you on the living room floor…”

This time, Bradley pulled you closer, so your body was spread out on top of him and kissed you, licking your bottom lip before opening your mouth up to him. His hands snuck underneath the skirt of your silk dress, skirting the edge of your panties. You sighed. His hands were calloused and a little rough, but they still touched you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Hold up, I never said I wouldn’t let you, I just said I don’t think - hey!” Bradley tried to fend off your tickle attack, but could only get a few words out between his giggles. “Stop, you know I’m old!”

Your ridiculously handsome, thirty-six year old, naval aviator boyfriend was giggling on the floor of your house because your were tickling his sides. If only you could show this version of Bradley to the Navy - maybe then they wouldn’t take him away from you at Christmas. Stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

“Also, are you still upset that I got you two presents? Because if you are, can I just make you come once tonight? Level the field.”

You giggled. “Shut up.” Your kiss cut off any reply he had been about to give and you licked his bottom lip, coaxing open his mouth. 

“Uh, uh, uh.” You paused and tilted your head slightly to look Bradley in the eye. “Now, what did Santa ask earlier, huh? You been naughty or nice this year?”

There were two ways in which this could play out - with two different, though ultimately satisfying results. One would play out relatively quickly - and the other would ensure you were occupied all night. 

“Nice?” 

Bradley clicked his tongue. “Don’t know about that…”

“Why not? Haven’t I been good?” You pouted, completely exaggerated, which Bradley picked up on in an instant.

“Good girls don’t typically have to ask if they’ve been good…”

“Maybe I don’t want to be good tonight…”

Bradley sucked in a breath as you snuck your hand underneath his shirt and teased the waistband of his jeans. His skin was hot to the touch beneath your fingers as you unbuttoned his shirt. You leaned forward to press little butterfly kisses to his neck and gradually made your way down past the little tufts of hair on his chest. 

“Please touch me, sweetheart. Please.” 

There was a carnal need inside you to mark his skin. To give him proof of your love and need for him, so that he could look at the marks in the mirror until they faded. A kiss across his neck, a soft bite on his shoulder, another on his bicep by his tattoo. You’re mine. Mine, mine, mine. And I want everyone to know. 

“God, Bradley. You’re so beautiful,” you whispered against his skin. “So beautiful and all mine.”

Bradley let out a whine as your teeth grazed against the sensitive flesh on his neck. “Fuck, I love you.”

His hands inched up your thighs, getting closer to the throbbing heat between your legs. Maybe it was the festive spirit, the fact that Bradley had asked you to move in with him, or that he was shipping out in 28 hours for three months, but you were pathetically wet already. Desperate and needy and as naughty as he had joked earlier. 

“I can feel the heat pouring off you, sweetheart.” 

“Can we go - ahhh - can we go upstairs, please?”

He pulled back slightly. “What happened to fucking on the living room floor?” he teased. 

“Don’t want to fuck up your old man back anymore - Bradley!” you cried out as he smacked your ass. 

“Old man, huh?” His smile was sinful and you were putty in his hands.

You widened your eyes, trying to appear contrite. “Sorry, sir. It won’t happen - Bradley!” He cut you off again, but this time because he was tickling your sides and your giggles made it impossible to speak. “Ta-take me upstairs, bubs - please. Don’t - don’t want you to hold back.”

“Now how could I refuse that?”

Gradually, the two of you made your way upstairs to the bedroom, though with a couple of breaks in between for Bradley to press you up against the walls and on the staircase. You’d have bruises tomorrow, you were sure. But you wanted them to last - to be something to remember this night by for the weeks and months to come. 

You landed heavily on the bed, bouncing slightly, and peered up at Bradley. His bare chest was rising and falling steadily with each breath he took as he looked you over, like he was trying to memorize you. 

Without breaking eye contact, you rose to your knees and pulled at the pretty little bow tying your wrap dress. Hours ago, you’d felt self conscious about your body in front of everyone else, but at that moment you felt like the most beautiful girl in the world. Bradley’s eyes widened as he took in the way you slowly pushed the silk dress off your shoulders, leaving you only in your burgundy bra and panties. It wasn’t exactly a matching set, but the colors matched and that was enough for the two of you that night. 

“God, you’re gorgeous.”

Bradley lunged forward, causing you to fall back against the pillows and you wrapped your legs around his hips with a gleeful cry, which he promptly cut off with his lips. 

After spending ample time just kissing you and running his hands up and down your body, Bradley lavished attention on your breasts, licking and biting and sucking on them like a man possessed. Your nipples were peaked to attention, thanks to the slight chill in the bedroom and his thorough ministrations. With one hand, he paid special attention to the skin just below your nipple, rubbing his middle finger along the tender flesh while thumbing at the raised bud. Meanwhile, his other hand kept trekking downward towards your clit. 

“Oh god!” you cried out against his lips as he slid his fingers inside you and crooked them just right. 

“So fucking wet, sweetheart.”

Fuck. You could feel yourself clenching around him, desperate for something more. You were needy for him that night. Needy to have your boyfriend all to yourself. To give yourself to him completely. Your orgasm was well and truly building up inside you, but you wanted to come on his cock first. There would be plenty more opportunities that night to come apart in other ways. 

You’d work him all through the night if you had to just to get your fix before he left. The thought made you desperate. 

“Bu-bubs, please. I need more - need your cock inside me.” You pulled him closer, grazing your thighs against his throbbing cock. 

Bradley groaned. “Such a needy fucking thing, bucking against my fingers like that, huh?” You whined. “But I’m gonna fuck you nice and slow, yeah. Make sure you savor it.”

It sounded fucking sinful the way your cunt was sucking in Bradley’s fingers. He’d begun scissoring them inside you so as to not have to remove them just yet. 

More. More. More. You chanted the words mindlessly in your head. Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Finally, he pulled out his fingers and shamelessly dried them off on your breasts. “You ready?” You nodded frantically. “Don’t think either of us is gonna last long.”

No, you didn’t think so either. But you didn’t want to prolong this. You needed to be close to him and to know he was real and good and yours. At least for tonight. 

Knowing each other as you did, you raised your hips slightly, letting Bradley to slip inside you. You both moaned, you loving the stretch and him loving the tight warmth. You wrapped your arm around his neck, bringing his lips closer to yours, but not daring to lean in those final few centimeters to touch, and instead just breathed against each other. 

“Fuck,” you rasped against his lips, “I love you.”

“Love you so much.” He snapped his hips against yours and you cried out. “Gonna miss you.”

You ducked your head to swipe your lips across the scar on his neck. “Can’t wait for you to come home to me.”

Home. Home. Home. Bradley wouldn’t just be coming back to San Diego in three months: he would be coming home - to you. And to this great, big, beautiful house he wanted to share with you. And to the life he wanted to share with you. 

He groaned your name. “I’ve wanted this for so long. Can’t believe it’s happening.”

Tears pricked your eyes and you bridged the gap to kiss him. “Bubs, I’m so close, please.”

“Tell me how to get you there? I wanna wait for you.” 

If he kept saying things like that, you wouldn’t be too far behind. Without breaking eye contact, you brought Bradley’s hand down to your clit and he played with the sensitive nub. You keened against his hand, which was coupled with a particularly deep thrust of his cock. You felt that coil in your belly finally unraveling.

“‘M close, feels so good. Again…”

He repeated the action again and again, telling you how gorgeous you were as you took his cock and how much he loved you and needed you and you felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Because for tonight you were.

With a strangled cry of his name, you came and true to his word, Bradley followed shortly after. Fuck. He felt so good. He made you feel so good, so full, so loved. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me.” He peppered kisses up and down your neck and across your cheeks, before settling on your lips. The two of you sat there like that for a few moments, trying to even out your breathing and be as close together as possible. 

But eventually Bradley had to pull out and you whimpered at the loss. He settled you back against the pillows and then started cleaning you up with the towel in his nightstand. Before he got to your still leaking cunt, he scooped up some of your cum with his fingers and brought it to your lips. 

“Open.” You did so without a second thought and cleaned off his fingers, getting high off the taste of the two of you mixed together. “Good girl.”

Then you let yourself get settled underneath the covers. You could go to the bathroom in a few minutes because right now you wanted to be with Bradley. Your bodies were both hot and sticky underneath the white sheets, but you couldn’t think of anywhere else you wanted to be than in his arms. 

“I’m gonna miss you so much, bubs.” You cupped his cheek tenderly, like he would disappear at any moment. A nagging little voice at the back of your mind said that he would, in fact, do just that - on Monday morning. But that night he was yours. 

Bradley nuzzled your hand, eventually pressing a kiss to your palm. “It’s not too long, just three months.”

“Three months without you.” Kiss. “Without your singing.” Kiss. “Your cooking.” Kiss. “Your smile and your silly little mustache.” Kiss. Kiss. “Three months without you, rocketman.” 

Your eyes were swimming with tears, but they were properly dripping down Bradley’s cheeks. 

“But we still have tonight.”

You still had tonight. And you’d be in each other’s arms till the morning light. 

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

Two weeks later, as you sat in your childhood bedroom on Christmas Eve, you were at once hit with a startling realization: it wasn’t your home anymore. It hadn’t been in years, really. Not since you’d officially moved out after college. But that fact had never been so apparent until you were waiting for the Facetime call to connect to Bradley. 

Your home was in San Diego with your friends and your job. Your home was with your boyfriend, snuggled up on the couch watching TV, perusing the aisles of the farmer’s market, watching him surf, and cooking dinner together. Your home was with Bradley. 

And you just wanted to be home - you just wanted Bradley. 

You had put on a brave face during Christmas Eve celebrations with your family - at least with your extended family. You had sung carols at church, helped Mary and your dad prep and lay out all the traditional Christmas Eve dishes, organized the Yankee Swap with your brother and Lauren, and had a few too many cocktails with your cousins. But as the last of your grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins had left and your dad had turned on NBC for the end of It’s a Wonderful Life, you had lost it. 

Properly, honestly, well and truly lost it. As in fat tears streaming down your face, snot clogging your nose, remnants of your mascara rimmed around your eyes lost it.

Goddamn Harry Bailey got to come home in time for Christmas! Harry got to toast to his “big brother George: the richest man in town.” Granted, George had basically just tried to kill himself, so the comparison wasn’t perfect - but still! Congressional Medal of Honor winner, Navy pilot Harry Bailey got to be home for Christmas! Why couldn’t Bradley? Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin. 

At the sight of your tears, Mary had just opened up her blanket and let you burrow against her side as she rubbed your back like she used to when you were a kid, while your dad had gotten you a cup of Sleepytime Tea. Eventually, once you had calmed down enough and they had said all the right words to soothe your heartache, you had kissed your dad and Mary goodnight  - Mary had hugged you a bit tighter than usual - and they both had told you to give Bradley their best during your Facetime call. 

They liked Bradley - a lot, actually. Of course, they’d given him a tough time when they first talked on the phone all those months ago, but by the time Bradley officially met them at Thanksgiving, it was like he’d known them for years. He just fit. 

He loved to talk to Mary about her history classes at Berkeley and how her students were doing. He had the same sense of humor as your dad and also loved the Patriots despite their recent offensive coordinator troubles. 

He just made you lighter and made things lighter. He fit. 

And you could only hope that one year he’d be able to come up to Berkeley with you to celebrate for the holidays instead of being all alone on an aircraft carrier somewhere in the Pacific. Fucking Navy. Fucking stupid US Military Industrial Complex. Fucking Lockheed Martin.

Shit! The call was finally connecting. You felt tears in your eyes as you finally got to see your beautiful boy again. Though the picture was a little grainy, Bradley was sitting in what looked like one of the quiet rooms in your office, clad in his green flight suit. And he had the most wonderful smile on his face at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, bubs,” you said, hoping your voice didn’t come out as thickly over Facetime as it did in your room.

For what felt like the longest time, but was probably only a few seconds, you stared at each other, just drinking in the other’s face. Bradley already looked tired. This was your first Facetime since he’d left two weeks ago. Normally, you talked over email - which was actually kind of fun. 

Early on in your relationship during a one week special detachment, you had unironically sent him a pretty formal email to check in:

Bradley,

Hope you’re settling in well. Let me know when it would be a good time to connect via FaceTime. I can put some time on my calendar whenever you’re free. I’m heading to an off-site in Raleigh on Thursday, so I’ll be on East Coast time. 

Miss you and stay safe,

x

It had even been from your PwC email address, which he never let you forget. But soon quasi-formal emails became your thing. They probably set off a bunch of red flags to the censor team and you had never sent one from your work email again, but it was fun. You’d even thought of a couple code words and phrases to use.

“You have a good night? How’s your dad and Mary? Tell them thanks again for the package.”

Your parents had had the idea to send everything they normally would have put in Bradley’s Christmas stocking to him on the carrier. He had emailed the three of you a picture of the package, received in perfect condition, on his bunk yesterday. You two had decided that he would open it while you were on your FaceTime call. It wasn’t anything particularly special, except for two small gifts you’d snuck in before bringing it to the post office, but you were excited and could tell Bradley was too.

You held your breath as he parsed through the Dr.Jart sheet masks, Churchill cigars, various Christmas themed candies, new electric toothbrush heads, and scratch cards until he got to the bottom of the stack where your two special presents were hidden.

“Now, what’s this?” He shot you a teasing glance as he opened the envelope. 

You remained tight lipped, just glad it hadn’t been opened by Naval mail security. Bradley slid the object out of the envelope and you could see his eyes widen, even over Facetime, as he realized what it was before he promptly turned it over and glanced around even though there was no one else in the room with him. 

“Shit - how’d you - how’d you take this?” He leaned back in his chair and stared at it, clearly a little in awe.

You felt your cheeks heating up. “Well, I know you have a couple on your phone, but figured an old fashioned one might be nice too - especially if you’re in a tech blackout or whatever it’s called. But do you really like it - seriously, you don’t have -”

“- No, I love it. You’re not getting this back from me.” You giggled. “But you gotta tell me how you managed to get the Polaroid in the shower with you and still get the soapy titties in the picture?”

“Can’t tell you everything, now can I?”

(Caroline had taken them for you. It truly had been a bonding experience and was honestly not half as sexy as Bradley was probably thinking. But you just smiled - more than content to keep that a secret from him.) 

“Well, it is very much appreciated. So, thank you, I love it, seriously.”

You tried to peer into the box from halfway across the world. “There should be one more thing in there from me - and you don’t have to use it, but I know something similar always makes me feel like you’re right next to me…”

Bradley gingerly unwrapped the final tissue paper package only to reveal a travel sized bottle of your perfume. You giggled, watching him spritz his wrist and breathe in the scent.

“Fuck…I’ve missed that.” 

You rested your cheek against your fist and just watched him. For a minute, it felt like he was right in front of you. It made you want to do something terribly cliche like hold your palm up against the screen and imagine you could feel the heat from his hand as he did the same thing back.

But instead Bradley just smiled at you and asked you all about your Christmas Eve activities.

So, you told him about sneaking outside to smoke with your cousins, drinking too much champagne, eating too much food made from your grandma’s recipes from the old country, getting an actually good gift in the Yankee Swap, and crying over Harry Bailey. And he just listened and smiled and asked questions at all the right parts and kept telling you how much he would have loved to do all that beside you next year. 

And then with your remaining five minutes of calltime, Bradley told you all the goings on aboard the ship and how he and Callie and Javy were doing and about the fancy dinner and breakfast planned for tomorrow.

But then the dreaded countdown clock on the side of the screen popped up, signaling you had thirty seconds left. By then, both of you had tears in your eyes as you tried to say goodbye until your next call.

“So, we’ll talk in two weeks, okay? Should be just after New Year’s, but keep emailing me. I love reading them when I get the chance.”

You wiped a stray tear from your eye. “Of course, I’ll give you a full Christmas morning breakdown.”

Bradley chuckled, but seemed to glance at the countdown clock and sobered up. “I love you, I love you so much and I’m so happy I get to come home to you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas, bubs. Please come home.”

-----------

a/n: sorry it took me so fucking long to write again, but a girl can only be so self indulgent! merry christmas, this taglist is shit sorry!

Taglist: @sunderlust @seasonsbloom @ticklish-leafy-plant @lass-that-is-gone @katcoquette @daniellef89x @double-j @bradshawswife @hufflepuffprincesse @cloudycluster @sithbelova @mavencalorers @fav-rooster-fics @thebeautifullydamnedone @unordinare @callsignvalley @pricklepearbloom @browneyedboys @cherrycola27 @whatblogisthis216 @agentofkrypton @lcahwriter @kyliesalvatore @noellreadfiction @coyotesamachado @heartsofminds @jocsrecs @notroosterbradshaw @roosterforme @iblogtopassthetime @karateperson @nessrin @frenchtoastix @piceous21 @princessphilly @spideyngwen @mrsjobarnes @calmpunker @softspiderling @feralforfrank @fivsecondsflat @sexualparkour @greenorangevioletgrass @sexygaypalpatine @moonyscardigans @carousallie @liveholland @supernaturaldawning @melancholyy-hill @currentlybradshaw @summ3rlotus @seesaw-jk @roostereads @milestomaverick @some-lovely-day​ @steadfastconviction​ ​​@sometimesanalice @jupitercomet @rae-gar-targaryen @oncasette @whisperofsong @call-sign-jinx @howdysebby

[cloudninetonine]

Yo yo! Top Gun anon here and first I’m so happy people are seeing the v i s i o n. To add to it and a bit of what others said imma put it in a list because I have so many ideas but I don’t wanna overwhelm!

1) To play on the cozy player/stronk chain thing and the gravity of the initial rift/difference between the two parties: reader with softer hands/less scaring than the group. Why? Not just for the fluffiness of hand comparisons (and the “must protect”) but for the realization that they’re the farthest thing from what these fools got going on.

They lift up a sword, and I dunno how rough the handles are but these guys definitely have no problems with it. Yet for player it’s much rougher than anything they’re used to. Holding onto it for so long could be painful. Laying in their types of (most likely) makeshift sleeping bags? Coarse fabrics=uncomfortable. Mid rant funny thought about how the chain my see player as “fussy” or something along those lines but instead they’ve barely ever, if at all, came in contact with this much extended “roughing” of the “it”. Lowkey this makes me think of how cozy and nice things can be now in comparison to then.

2) Same-ish point but Stronk chain? Angry player being fireman carried by whichever link away from (danger/mischief/etc) and just hitting his back, not hard but enough where a normal person give up and set em down, but he isn’t even phased. Just calling over his shoulder like “Are we done?🤨 Got it out your system?”

3)Angst warning that plays on Player being more affected by the carnage and battle: That scene from monsters inc where Sully is forced to scare and thus terrifies Boo? That but Player accidentally stumbles into battle because of Dink let’s say. A Link (let’s say Hyrule bc peak angst) whips around and Player has a sword pointed inches from their eyes. A bloody face and stony/wild eyes meet wide and watery ones. Player tries to play it off, they know it was an accident/misunderstanding but…they can’t help but to be on edge for just a little while. And Hyrule/the Link you choose? Ooooh boy.

4) I will later address the Top Gun Au when I get this all out my system because bayBE these ideas are FLOWING?? What’s the discord link again??/hj

Bonus: I know I glossed over the softness of hand comparisons but I gotta be honest the idea of Player’s skin being softer, smoother, less blemished or whatever sparking up a bit of teasing within the group. Maybe it’s just the basics of lighthearted digs at the idea of them in a fight or something as simple as them not being accustomed to handling such heavy weaponry. Let’s say Wars gets up first and takes their hand to compare it to his own battle ridden one. It starts off with the old “taunt”, laughter from the rest (including an “angry” Player) then as the rest carry on he zones out, thinking about how their hand is so much smaller in comparison. So much more…delicate? No no, that couldn’t be the word. Though when put next to him of all people it wouldn’t be far fetched. I’d carry on with this bonus but I don’t wanna make a whole mini fic in your asks GCHBYCHB but I SHALL expound farther on these ideas and more if y’all want because I have been STARTED.

Okay, anon, I would love all of these ideas expanded on I love them a lot!

Player being more soft compared to the others just brings a whole storm of ideas, as are their materials. I think you may have or someone else did mention it in another ask where one of the boys steal Player's clothes because of how comfy they are and I think it's a perfect idea! Them relaxing in Player's hoodie, their eyes heavy because wow this is the most softest thing they've ever felt! Then in comparison there's Player struggling because why is this fucking tunic so itchy and horrible??? Man alive is there fire ants woven into their clothes?????

Also Player just being carried in frustration would be hilarious?? Player snarks Legend and Hyrule has to carry them away while they blow up flustered in frustration because this shouldn't be happening! Even if they're heroes and buffer!

Now Player being much softer to those topics. I can definitely see Hyrule maybe being a frantic fighter as he's dealt with close calls many of times! Imagine how heartbroken he would be, seeing Player's horrified expression, stumbling back away from his sword and looking at him with a hurt that makes him want to drop to his knees and beg for their forgiveness. He wouldn't want them to brush it off, not when he can tell that they're obviously still struggling but he knows pushing the subject wouldn't work in his favour either.

ALSO WAITING FOR THE TOP GUN AU but of course take your time

[twstarchives]

Happy Birthday・Epel

Card: Birthday Attire - SSR Characters: Epel & Yuu. Mentioned: Vil, Leona

Chapter 1

—POMEFIORE DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE—

NRC Campus News Interview with the Birthday Student ~Epel ver.~

Yuu: Happy birthday!

Epel: Thank you. I feel a little embarrassed... I’ll get people coming up and wishing me a happy birthday just by walking through the halls.

Did your family do anything to celebrate?

Epel: Yeah, they sent a letter and a bunch of apples.

My family lives on an apple farm that’s been around for generations. We grow all kinds of varieties all year round, so they send me some this time of year too.

But there were way too many for one person to eat, so I’ve been handing them out to people I know around the school...

I passed them out to all my classmates and the magift club, but I’ve still got some left over.

Please let me know if you know of anybody who might want to take a few.

Could you tell us about your family next?

Epel: Mawmaw and Pawpaw—er, I mean! There’s my mother and father, my grandfather, grandmother...

My great-grandma, my uncle and his wife and son. We all live together.

All of us work on the farm. But it’s so huge that we’re still kind of short on hands.

Since the neighborhood’s made up of farmers, everyone helps each other out during the busy season.

We all feel really close because of that, like we’re one big family.

We have a thank-you party for everyone after the busiest harvest season of the year. Everyone brings their harvests, or small dishes...

It’s huge celebration, almost like a festival! Gee, there ain’t nothin’ as fun as—ah! I mean, it’s a lot of fun... I think?

Is it difficult to harvest the apples?

Epel: The apple trees on my family’s farm are really tall, so I guess it is... maybe. It’s real tiring going up and down the ladder.

But not when you use magic. You can hop a broom and fly from tree to tree, which makes picking them really easy.

My grandma and great-grandma can use magic, so they’ve always been the ones in charge of the high-up places.

When I was little, I really wanted to help the two of them, so everyday I got on a broom and jumped up and down...

Then one day, I really flew!

Ever since then the three of us have been doing any harvesting you need to fly for.

Chapter 2

—POMEFIORE DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE—

What’s your favorite food?

Epel: BBQ! It’s so darn divine! Gets my mouth waterin’, it’s that good!

Back home we’d round up my family ‘n the neighborhood folk, all the parents, ‘n kids ‘n do a whole lotta barbecues, all of us.

We’d all sink our teeth into the chunks o’ meat we grilled over the charcoal.

There ain’t nothin’ better than wolfin’ ‘em down like that!

Also ‘cause our vegetables are fresh that day, grillin’ them is enough to get ‘em nice and sweet.

So they’re real delicious without needin’ to add anythin’ to ‘em!

I can tell you really love it.

Epel: Ah...! B-But, actually, I love macarons the most...

What do you like about macarons?

Epel: Th-They’re cute, you know? And sweet, and they have all kinds of flavors...

...They’re not really filling, though.

What else do you like besides food?

Epel: Magical wheels... maybe.

They look mighty, and their movements are powerful too. And yet they can make such swift turns...

When I was little, I thought “Those look so cool!” and dreamt about getting one.

Sometimes the people who own one in my neighborhood let me ride on theirs.

The first time I got to go on one, it left me so excited I couldn’t sleep that night.

Ahh... Someday I want to have one of my own.

Chapter 3

—POMEFIORE DORM - BIRTHDAY PARTY VENUE—

What club are you in?

Epel: The magical shift club. It’s so much fun!

It’s exciting going up against players bigger than me, and there’s nothing more motivating than scoring a goal!

But I really sucked when I first joined, and I’d get hurt any time I tried going in for the disc...

Vil-san would give me an earful for “not taking care of myself” whenever I’d scratch up my nose or cheeks.

Since I was always getting scolded, I stopped going after the disc head-on and instead practised a style where I make surprise attacks on my opponents.

And just the other day, I managed to nicely dodge a player that was trying to stop me...! I was so proud of myself~!

On top of that, Leona-san told me that I could play in our next game!

I don’t get hurt or get scolded by Vil-san as much anymore, so I think I’ve improved a lot since I first joined!

Be careful about getting hurt, okay?

Epel: Thank you, but I’ll be fine. Nobody’s got more guts than me!

I’ve been teased my whole life for seeming “weak” just because of how I look...

But I kept going up against students older and stronger than me without ever giving up... and finally, I turned the tables on every single one of them!

Soon I started getting called “The Poisoned Apple of the Felmier Family” around the school.

It means “despite how he looks, he’s fearsome and persistent.” Ahaha.

Thank you for sharing all of this with us. Once again, happy birthday!

[novelconcepts]

You saying more childhood AU is possible with the right prompt is just...

More Tess. All of the Tess. Tess the morning after the party, lives in my brain rent free. The teasing. The knowing looks. The Jamie and Dani being so in love and unashamed and also oops we forgot the roommate. And Tess being the wonderful person she is and not letting them get away with anything.

It’s the fact that they think they’re subtle, that really gets her. 

Not that Tess is upset to find Jamie crashing with them the week following graduation. Of course Jamie is crashing with them. Where else would she go, now that Dani “it’s important to grow up and change and learn who you really are, or some such bull” Clayton has finally snapped up the hot gardener of her dreams? Honestly, if Dani let her walk out that door--especially after that first night, which, hello, gardener; these walls aren’t half as thick as they apparently think--she’d have forfeited all rights to sanity, and Tess would have no choice but to make her move instead.

No, she isn’t upset to find Jamie still here the following morning. Or at all. She loves Jamie. What’s not to love? 

Honestly, so much to love. If she didn’t love Dani even more, she might have to really test the bounds of this friendship. Particularly when she opens her bedroom door to find Jamie--hair rumpled, dressed in a half-unbuttoned flannel and a pair of boxer shorts--at the kitchen counter. Like, warn a woman. 

“Warn you about what?” Jamie looks blank, her hands prying open each cupboard with evidently-mounting disappointment. “You really don’t have any tea?”

“Warn a woman,” Tess repeats, hip-checking her gently out of the way and scrounging the supply of English Breakfast out from behind the stoner snacks. “Before you turn up in her kitchen looking all sex-rumpled. I haven’t even had coffee, Taylor, Jesus.”

Jamie blinks, taking the box from her hands. “O...kay. How was the rest of the party?”

“Not nearly as engaging as your night,” Tess informs her pleasantly, delighted when Jamie’s sleep-muddled expression lights up with embarrassment. “But an extravaganza in its own right all the same. Where’s my girl? I know you railed her into next week, but it seems bad manners to leave you to breakfast alone.”

“I didn’t--we--”

“Thin walls,” Tess sing-songs. “Like paper. Or, what, you’re English--parchment?”

“We have paper,” Jamie deadpans. Tess pats her shoulder, working around her to fill the kettle. 

“Good fortune really does smile upon you. Ah! Sleeping Beauty arises!”

Dani, looking only slightly more functional than Jamie, is emerging from the bathroom with an expression that suggests she, at least, is very aware of the acoustics of their apartment. It’s so tempting to tease her about it--Dani has this truly adorable habit of looking like she might combust if pushed too far, the red of her face complimented nicely by the gold of her hair--but Tess figures some things can wait. Lord knows they’re going to walk right into it soon enough.

But like--so soon. Like, she goes off to take a shower, and comes back to find they still haven’t left the kitchen soon.

“Seriously?” She laughs, watching them leap apart. It’s too clear Dani has forgone the idea of coffee and bacon for the much-more-invigorating art of pushing Jamie against the refrigerator. Not that Tess can blame her. 

“We--were just--”

“Right in front of my cereal,” Tess says gravely, shaking her head in faux-disappointment as she stretches over Jamie--whose hands are still rooted to Dani’s hips, the hem of Dani’s shirt dropping hastily back over her stomach--to retrieve a box of off-brand Lucky Charms. “No shame.”

They’re both making noises of disagreement, as though Tess hasn’t had her share of groping in the kitchen experiences to call on. She snorts. 

“Look, far be it from me to stop your, ah, young love in its tracks. Just. Keep it out of my bedroom, is all I ask. Unless...” She wiggles her eyebrows. Jamie clears her throat so violently, it sounds as though she might fracture something.

“Shower. Should. I.”

“That sentence normally goes in the other direction,” says Tess helpfully. Dani swats her back, grinning. 

“Got that out of your system yet?”

“Oh, not nearly.” Tess beams. “By all means, Clayton, show her where the shower lives.”

“I know where the,” Jamie begins to protest, but Dani is slipping both arms around her middle, pressing against her back to urge her toward the bathroom.

“That’s her polite way of saying if I don’t go with you now, she’s going to spend the next half hour fishing for details.”

“You still owe me those,” Tess calls after them. “Every last filthy one.”

***

They think the shower is noise-cancelling, too, Tess realizes about four minutes later. Jesus, these beautiful useless idiots. 

***

It’s the lack of subtlety masquerading as Chill, really. The fact that every single time Tess leaves a room, she can count slowly to ten, poke her head back out, and find they’ve picked right back up where last she interrupted. 

Step into the bedroom to change her clothes? Come back out to find Dani straddling Jamie on the couch. 

Take a quick smoke break on the stairs out front? Glance through the window to find Jamie shirtless, the unmistakable tread of scratches running down her back beneath her bra. 

Offer to run out for lunch? Spend an extra five minutes idly counting clouds, because fuck only knows the sounds Dani is making isn’t karaoke. 

“You two,” she announces, tossing the pizza box onto the counter with a flourish, “are going to break something if you keep this up. I mean, you’re at least taking hydration breaks, I hope? Do I need to bring you a power bar?”

Jamie has the decency to look slightly ashamed of herself, though there’s a definite grin beneath the hunched shoulders. Dani, selecting a slice of pepperoni-and-banana-peppers, shrugs. 

“Consider it payback?”

“For who?” Tess demands, delighted. Dani raises her free hand, ticking her fingers down toward her palm.

“Tyler, whose butt I saw like ten minutes before you introduced us. May, who you used to desecrate the kitchen floor. Carlos and Beth--”

“Liz,” Tess interrupts, “she goes by Liz these days.”

“--Liz, with whom you conveniently forgot I needed to shower before my presentation and took up the bathroom for three hours--”

“Okay, okay,” Tess snorts, groping for a dishtowel in some shade of off-white to wave. “Truce.”

“And that’s just this apartment,” Dani says cheerfully. She tilts her head to look at Jamie, whose face can best be described as aghast. “Back in the dorm, she used to sneak girls in after I was asleep.”

“You were a sound sleeper!” 

“No one is sound enough to ignore a bed frame breaking, Tess.”

“I...avoiding college was the right choice,” Jamie says weakly. Tess bats her eyes.

“You’re saying you’ve never dreamed of breaking a bed frame with me, Taylor?”

Jamie darts a look around at Dani, her eyes just shy of screaming. Tess is having the best time of her life. 

***

“Tell me honestly, though,” she says. Jamie gives her a sharp look, uncertainty obvious even as she reaches to accept the joint Tess is passing her way. 

“Really don’t think Dani wants me giving you a play by play.”

“Dani, beloved of my soul, was fool enough to schedule a doctor’s appointment while you were still in town. She knows what I’m about.” 

To Jamie’s credit, she doesn’t choke this time. She puffs once, twice, holding the smoke in her lungs an impressively long time before craning her head back and exhaling. "What am I telling you honestly?”

��You’re going to keep an eye on her, right?”

Jamie looks surprised. “Yeah. Not that she needs it, mind. Just. Yeah. Always.”

Tess sighs. “She doesn’t need it, but you know as well as I what that woman is like. Too good. Too fucking good for her own good, you know? Forgets, sometimes, that she can come first, too.”

Jamie offers a smile nearly wicked in its amusement. “Oh, I take care of that.”

“Yes,” Tess drawls, “darling, I can tell. You know, really relieved she never brought anyone home before now. I’m not sure my beauty sleep could have taken the abuse.”

Jamie laughs, leaning back and pulling a throw pillow into a loose embrace. “She doesn’t need anyone taking care of her. But...”

“But you can’t help wanting to, anyway,” Tess guesses. When Jamie nods, she takes another hit, lets the smoke burn in her chest. “She has that effect on people. Our girl would take a bullet for anyone, and it’s...impossible not to love her for it.”

“She’s the reason,” Jamie says softly, “I didn’t run. Reason I did a lot of things, some of ‘em really, really stupid. Sometimes I think everything I’ve ever done can be traced back home to her, one way or another.”

“That, my dear,” Tess says, “is what fools and songstresses alike call love, I think. Just...do me a favor, keep her from killing herself for those kids.”

Jamie nods. “I will. Promise.”

“Good,” Tess says lightly. “I like you, Jamie. You’ve got the hands of a sinner and the smile of a saint. I’d really hate to have to track you down and kill you for doing her wrong.”

***

For all the sex, and all the blushing that follows, it’s late nights like this one that really say it all. Nights where cards fade into lazy conversation fade into this: Jamie, asleep on the couch, her head resting in Dani’s lap. Dani, looking down at her like she’s never felt so at home in her own skin. 

And Tess, watching them both, astonished by the lack of fear in the room. The lack of distance. The lack of uncertainty. 

Dani, who has always been a nervous sort, whose panic attacks are so predictable on bad weeks, Tess came back from that first Christmas break with a laundry list of coping methods to offer--looks perfectly at peace. Her fingers stroke back Jamie’s hair, tracing her forehead, her nose, every brush of contact only seeming to sink Jamie deeper into dream. Dani has never looked like this before. 

“You’re happy,” Tess says quietly. Not a question. Not a challenge. Dani smiles.

“Part of me thought she’d get sick of it, you know. Waiting for me.”

“Who could get sick of you?” Tess asks, and means it. No one in the world stacks up to Dani, on a list of favorite people. No one in the world ever could. If Jamie really did fall ass over teakettle for this woman when they were barely old enough to know what love was, she couldn’t be blamed for it. Not for a second. 

“You’ll invite me to the wedding, of course,” Tess says, when Dani--eyes closed, fingers still tracing aimlessly--says nothing for a while. One blue eye emerges, her nose scrunching up. 

“Jumping ahead, aren’t you?”

“She’d do it here and now, if you asked. Shit, I could get ordained, do it for you. Always thought I’d look nice in a little suit.”

“You’d be gorgeous,” Dani says, without a hint of deprecation. Tess blows her a kiss. “And...yes. If and when, I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“As officiant?”

“I was thinking maid of honor,” Dani laughs. Tess leans back, smiling. 

“That’ll do.”

The silence creeps in again, the sleepy indulgence of post-midnight living that feels so perfectly suited to the college experience. Nothing else, Tess suspects, will ever be quite this again--the quiet feeling like peace, the weariness feeling earned, not crushing. Jamie breathes out in her sleep, one hand drifting to gently grasp the hem of Dani’s shirt.

“Gonna miss you,” Tess says softly. “And this one, too.”

Dani smiles, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It won’t be the same again, will it?”

“Nope.” And maybe that’s a good thing, she thinks. Maybe that’s exactly how it should be. Growing up. Changing. Learning who they ought to be. “But you’ll call.”

“And write,” Dani agrees. 

“And send me pictures of your hot gardener,” Tess adds. “Lord knows, it’d be a crying shame to forget that.”

Dani laughs. “Never.”

“You did good, Clayton. Took you a minute, but--you did good.”

She lets the silence settle for real, lets Jamie sleep and Dani doze, lets herself sink into the armchair. They aren’t subtle, it’s true--she’ll probably wake tomorrow to find they’ve opted for a quiet round of the most wall-shaking sex she’s ever heard in Dani’s room--but that feels right, somehow. Good, to see Dani refusing to make herself small. Great, to see Dani refusing to temper an emotion this grand.

“I love you idiots,” she says softly. “You’re going to be just fuckin’ fine.”

[pallasperilous]

Occursus

Castiel/Dean Winchester Gen/Teen, 4341 words 15x20 coda  AO3 version “The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” Cas says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” 

Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two. “Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes. “It was a poor analogy. I apologize.” “So what’s a better one?” Castiel drums his fingers for a second. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.” “Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

It’s half past midnight by the time Dean gets another run at Cas.

Granted, what the fuck does half past midnight even mean here, where time is as free as tap water? Why does anybody even bother? For all it matters, Dean could set his watch to eleventy minutes past twenty o’ nope and still never miss last call.

Then again, somebody felt it necessary to invent the idea of Tuesday in the first place, and Dean’s not gonna volunteer himself for the task of replacing it with something better. What’s important is that he’s survived (or rather, he hasn’t survived) a battery of poignant moments and tearful reunions. He and Sam hugged out burdens registering in the triple digits. They even had a little fight, pretty much for the fun of it, while Ellen fucking Harvelle watched them over the bar with her eyes shining. She still charged them, though.

Right at the beginning of the party Dean and Castiel had their eyes-across-the-room thing, followed by the same magnetic, exhausted embrace they’ve shared on just about every plane of reality now. Dean supposes he could ask Cas for a nickel tour of the Empty just so they could hit for the cycle, but he’d really rather not. Sam let them eke out a few gruff, tear-choked monosyllables before diving in, sweeping Cas up in a bear hug and laughing like a fucking kid. Dean doesn’t push it, because it’s been longer for Sam, after all. Or something.

 And now it’s quiet, just the jukebox and the clink of glasses back in the kitchen, a few folks murmuring in booths. It might be dark outside, it might not; it’s waiting on Dean’s opinion before it commits to anything. And so is Cas, who is standing in the warm glow of the jukebox, hands in his pockets.

 Dean walks up, leans against it, bottle still dangling from one hand.

“C’mon, sunshine. I’ll show you yours, you show me mine.”

Cas looks up and into Dean’s eyes with the wary, elegant patience of a deer. “What is it that you would be showing me, Dean?”

Dean gives him a long, languid blink and bites his lip, and Castiel lags for half a second before rolling his own eyes. “I see death hasn’t refined your sense of humor.”

“Nope. Guess the billionth time aint the charm.”

Cas remains stonefaced, which means a corresponding you dumbass blush starts crawling up the sides of Dean’s neck. The jukebox switches records like it’s making a suggestion.

“I’m gonna sit down outside,” Dean says. “C’mon and sit down with me. There’s a patio somewhere, right? Ellen was always talking about adding one out back. No way she hasn’t bossed somebody into buildin’ it.”

“There’s a patio,” Cas says, taking his hands out of his pockets.

 Heaven’s patio is pretty nice; twenty square feet, some scattered picnic tables, fences covered in ivy and string lights. It still smells like fresh pine boards. There’s even a fire pit, which seems kinda bougie for the Roadhouse, but hell with it, it’s warm and pretty, and since when did pretentious people get to lay claim to “a hole with a fire in it”? There’s no moon overhead, and so the Milky Way is giving them the full monty — the runnelled spine of it, the ribcage packed with galaxies.

“Are they all alive?” Dean asks. The warmth from inside leaks out of his collar, wisps away.

“Who?”

Dean points up. “The stars. They always make a big deal about how most of the stars you can see from Earth have been dead for millions of years by the time we get the light from ‘em. That still true here? Or is everything on auto-renewal?”

“That’s a very complicated question,” Cas says, not looking up, only at Dean. He does that a lot, Dean knows, but it turns out to mean something different than what Dean had always assumed, which was ironically pretty similar to what it actually meant, but was reassuringly unactionable and therefore unfuckupable.

“I’m a very complicated guy,” Dean says.

Castiel smiles at that. “I don’t actually know the answer,” he admits. “And it would take an extremely long time to investigate. There are some other things I’d rather do first.”

“What, you can’t just call the kid for directory assistance?”

Castiel lets a good-humored sigh. “Like many young people these days, Jack prefers to avoid the phone.”

This is a solid riff, and Dean respects it. He picks the table closest to the fire and takes a bench and Cas sits next to him, instead of opposite. Dean thought he managed to break him of this habit a few years ago, but here all things are made whole again.

“So what,” Cas says, without a single molecule of playfulness or seduction, “is it that you want us to show each other?”

“Yeah, I was…it was a dumb joke. But I mean it, just not in a ‘playing doctor’ way.”

Castiel frowns, tightens his lips; the firelight throws a fluttering shadow across his face.

“I mean…Christ.” Dean takes a medicinal slug of his dwindling beer. “I don’t really look like this anymore either, right?” And he gestures at his usual shitshow personal presentation, which death has also noticeably failed to refine.

Castiel frowns, smoothes his hand across the surface of the table. “This is a corporeal world, Dean. It operates on a different set of rules, but your body here is no more of an illusion than it was on earth.”

“Seriously?” Dean ponders a second, squints through the dim light at his fingernails, at the high-resolution grime contained therein. “Jesus, that sounds like a lot of work. At least compared to Holodeck Heaven.”

“It is. But we didn’t build this place to be a...a…doorprize. It’s a real world,” Castiel enthuses, looming forward. “It’s the one that should have been created for all of you in the first place.” He pauses, glances down. “For all of us.”

Dean shrugs. “Okay, so no holograms. I’ll keep all that in mind next time Charlie tries to convince me to go skydiving.”

Castiel snorts, but not in pure aggravation, so Dean feels like he’s finally got a point on the board. “What I’m sayin’ is…physical or not, this place has different rules, right? So could I look at you without my eyeballs exploding? The…you know, the angel parts of you. Not just your vessel,” and Dean fwippies his hand at Cas to indicate that true beauty is contained within and Dean is completely indifferent to the fact this dork-ass alien managed to bodysnatch a guy who’s never dipped below an 8.5.

“It isn’t a vessel anymore. We can create our own bodies, now.”

“Peachy,” Dean clips, because that shit is a little late coming off the line.

Castiel sighs. “You could see me in that form without coming to harm. But you should know that I don’t consider it any more a reflection who I am than this form. Not anymore.”

Dean rolls the bottle towards him, nudges a knuckle. “You’re a real boy now, huh?”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Castiel says, and smiles a smile so small that Dean would need a microscope to figure out if it’s pleased or pained.

So Dean thwacks the bottle down on the totally-real table and claps his totally-real hands. “Well then let’s go. Hit me with that angel weirdness. If we’re gonna do this, I gotta taste all thirty-one flavors.”

Castiel smiles a little more convincingly, but it still doesn’t reach his eyes. “There are really only the two,” he says, and holds his palms out to the warmth of the fire.

“Great, then we’ll be done in time to catch Letterman. Then if you’re good maybe you can help me shimmy out of this thing.”

Cas cocks his head. “Out of which thing?”

“This super real heavenly meat-suit, dude. It’s not fair if only one of us gets naked. Peep show has to go both ways. I see your angel-face, you see my soul.”

Cas looks stricken, like Dean is asking to suck on his toes next to a playground. “I mean, unless that’d fuck you up,” Dean adds.

“No,” Castiel replies, a little absently. “It wouldn’t fuck me up. But it…wouldn’t really accomplish anything, either.”

“What, no soul kink? That’s bullshit and you know it. You love this crap.”

Castiel replies, “Your soul is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” with the easy confidence of a regular latte order. With the same uncanny, 2 Blessed 2 B Stressed face he had when Dean plowed Ruby’s knife hilt-deep into Jimmy Novak’s sternum, that he had when the Empty collapsed him  like a carcass in an acid bath.

That face shuts Dean right the fuck up, because it sends him skipping backwards into that fucking basement, where his phone is buzzing and the gritty concrete chill of the floor is seeping through his jeans into the useless meat of his legs and leeching into the hot, wet channels of his piece of shit heart.

Turns out you can work up a good little panic attack in heaven, which seems like a significant oversight.

From a million miles away he feels Cas’s warm, dry palm slide over the back of his hand –– there’s a ring there now that Dean lost down a motel sink drain ages ago, is nobody spotting continuity errors here?—then Cas’s hand tightens on his and it feels like a Xanax kicking in. (The good kind, direct from the hot nurse with the little paper cup, not the kind you get in a from a shady burnout at a truckstop, that’s been ground up with baking soda or benadryl and carefully remolded, as if you could possibly give that much of a shit when you’re freaking out bad enough to buy Xanax at a truckstop.)

Point being, he calms the fuck down.

Cas has good hands. They can do a lot of impressive shit, and they look nice doing it. They don’t look like –– they’ve never looked like –– they belong to somebody whose main job is destroying people, places, or things. They’re hands that how to play the cello, or make tables from reclaimed wood, or give soapy, encompassing handjobs in the shower on cold evenings.

“It’s been years, though,” Dean rasps, not looking up yet. “I was a kid when you got me out of Hell, Cas. I’ve done a lot of shit since then. Maybe souls get stretch marks.”

Castiel’s hand tightens on his, clamps it down on the table. “I’ve always been able to see it.”

“Okay,” Dean mumbles, but Cas keeps on going –

“The only time I couldn’t see any part of your soul was when I was without grace, and I promise you that was one of the greatest deprivations imaginable.”

Dean snorts, looks away, but his hand is still on lockdown. “Worse than going hungry, huh?”

“Much.”

“Hey, what about Sam? Or, hell, fucking Donatello. They both were both walking around minus their creamy filling, and you didn’t say boo.”

Cas shrugs. “I can’t see their souls under ordinary circumstances.”

“So what, mine’s just extra loud, or day-glo, or what?”

“It’s both of those things, but that isn’t why,” Cas answers, and the boy is downright wry.

Dean tugs his hand out, raps his knuckles against the wood. “Okay, so stop bein’ coy and tell me before I get a complex. And if you say it’s because of love or some shit, I’m bailing to Rowena’s.”

“You infected me,” Cas says.

“Uh,” says Dean.

The fire pops and a log shifts; Cas glances over at the kerfuffle, absently lifts his fingers to his chin like he’s looking for an old scar. “In Hell, when I retrieved you…I had to grip your raw soul. I was meant to wear a gauntlet, so I wouldn’t be burned.”

Dean snickers. “You’re telling me you were supposed to be wearing a soul condom. What happened, you get too excited and forget to suit up? It’s okay, I know I’m a lot to take in.”

Castiel purses his lips. “No, I was properly armored. But my arm was torn off in combat shortly before I reached you.”

“Ouch.”

“Ouch,” Cas agrees. “I didn’t have time to retrieve the arm or its protection from the pit, so I had to grow a new one very quickly.”

Dean really should’ve switched to whiskey before starting this. “What, you didn’t pack a spare?” He wheezes.

“Ordinarily, yes, I would have had the resources, but I was equipped very lightly for that mission. It was a raid, not a siege. You understand the difference.”

“Sure, yeah, you left your emergency arms in the trunk. So you just popped out a new one. No big.”

“It was a big. Your soul was close enough that it forced me to grow a human arm, instead of a much quicker and more powerful extensor.”

“Okay, uh,” Dean pinches at the bridge of his nose, “there’s a lot to unpack there.”

“What part of it confuses you?”

“I dunno, the bit where apparently angels are I guess heavenly octopuses,”

“The plural in the Greek is octopodes,” Cas interjects, not without pleasure.

Dean glowers. “Or the part where you can apparently swap in different drill bits,” Dean continues,

“Mm,” Cas notes, careful not to open his mouth,

“Or that I, like, accidentally bullied you into growing a person arm,” and Dean pauses for breath here, which Cas evidently takes as permission to dive in with more Planet Earth commentary.

“The natural environment of the human soul is a human body,” he says. “Humans have yet to meet a foreign substrate that they don’t immediately attempt to colonize. My form in Hell was not an exception.” Then he shuts his mouth very deliberately and gestures back to Dean like his mic is going live in three, two.

“Or the bit where my soul gave you some kind of STD?” Dean finishes.

“It was a poor analogy. I apologize.”

“So what’s a better one?”

Castiel drums his fingers for a second, listens to the fire pop in its little cage. “It’s more like…the way a parasitic jewel wasp injects a cockroach with venom, and transforms it into a willing host for wasp larvae.”

“Holy shit are you ever bad at this,” Dean says, with that signature brand of fond horror he special-orders just for Castiel, Angel of the Gourd.

“What I’m trying to avoid saying,” Castiel sighs, “is that you rubbed off on me.”

Dean nods. “Yeah. That’s fair. I wouldn’t be dumb enough to say that around me, either.”  He lays a couple little pats on Cas’s hand. “Lookit you, though, seeing around that corner. I’m proud of you, man. That would’ve totally flipped your breaker back in the day.”

“Just one of the many ways you have reshaped me, Dean,” Cas says, with warm sarcasm.

“Alright, so you rawdogged me, I whammied you. Chocolate, peanut butter, peanut butter, chocolate.”

Cas’s forehead wrinkles in skepticism. “I still prefer the cockroach. But some part of your soul injected itself into one of my more exposed frequencies. Under different circumstances, I would’ve stopped and excised the affected area before it spread, but. I was being pursued, and the mission had taken much longer than any of us anticipated.”

“Us? Thought it was just you down there.”

Cas looks vaguely offended, straightens and folds his arms like he just remembered he’s giving a deposition. “No, of course not. Michael assigned sixty-six angels in eleven groups of six, each escorted to the field by a seraph. We struck simultaneously at six different areas in perdition. From there we dispersed to individual targets –– to cause as much chaos as possible in order to help obscure the object of our mission, and to increase the odds that one of us would actually find you.”

“And you were the lucky winner.” Dean pushes down a touch of sick shame at the thought of it — he’d been coiled up like a snake around somebody else’s torment, anesthetized by it. It was one of the random rags of infernal time where his own pain decreased in proportion to how much he dealt out, and that was the closest thing Hell had to a Friday night.

“I was,” Castiel nods. “I took some liberties with my assignment,” he adds, squinting. “I flattered myself that I shared a special affinity with The Righteous Man.”

“That guy always sounded like kind of a cunt to me,” Dean notes. “You know, not withstanding the fact that I’m him.”

Castiel shrugs. “I found you, and I did what was necessary to save you, and my siblings did what was necessary to save me.” A little falter enters his voice. “Only twelve of us returned from that mission.” Cas looks up, out, away. A dove coos somewhere nearby of the Roadhouse; did it have a run-in with the windshield of an eighteen wheeler one day and show up here, Dean wonders, or does heaven make its own birds from scratch? That’s gotta be a softball compared to whether Betelgeuse is still open for business.

Castiel waits until the bird shuts up, then says, “Of those twelve surviving angels, I personally murdered nine, in everything that followed.”

After a moment Dean says “Yeah,” with practiced neutrality. He’s got some similar tallies, written in Sharpie on the back of his eyelids.

Cas sighs and his attention comes back down to the table. “By the time I received the authority to restore your soul to your body, the infection had spread almost past the point of containment. That’s why I resisted taking a vessel at first. I worried that occupying a human form would speed up the process.”

“Hey now. I thought you showed up naked because you thought I’d be one of those special people,” Dean quips, “Who can handle angel stuff without going all kibbles ’n bits.”

“That was only a partial truth.”

Dean tips the beer bottle in salute. “You’re a real special flavor of asshole, Cas.”

“So I’ve been told. I was right, though. When I took Jimmy as a vessel, I contracted — condensed — myself very severely. The infection had a much shorter distance to travel to reach all of my extremities, and a human form was the most hospitable environment possible.”

“You got a raging case of the Deans.”

Cas’s head kicks back in a laugh that kinda surprises them both. “Yes,” he says, grinning. “I did. I was very displeased, and very concerned I’d be found out and judged unfit for duty. And I very much was. Unfit, that is. Though I was not found out.”

“C’mon, never? You went rogue on the company.”

“Uriel suspected. Naomi certainly detected it later, as did Metatron. But in the moment, no. The Host’s attention was focused on the Apocalypse ahead, not on debriefing a mission that was considered a success. After the Cage was closed, I had too much influence to come under that level of scrutiny.”

“Hmh.” Dean realizes he’s been systematically picking down the label on the beer bottle, so he sets it on the ground before he gets sticky little shreds everywhere. “So I gotta ask. My little souvenir, the handprint. That’s where you grabbed me, with your lil…Mister Potato Head human arm?”

“It is.”

“If I’m the one who infected you, how come I’m the one who got burned?”

“My hand didn’t burn you.”

“Well, it ain’t fingerpaint.”

“Your own soul burned it, as it flowed out of your flesh and into mine. It burned until the moment when I finally released you from my grip. My hand healed itself; your arm did not.” Castiel gives a thin scoff. “I hadn’t planned to leave you interred.”

“Oh, no? Well that’s nice to hear, you know, a decade after the fact. I still have nightmares about that shit.”

Castiel winces. “It’s no excuse, but I was in a great deal of…the equivalent of pain. It took an immense effort to break off the inflow of your soul, and when I did manage it, I was thrown quite a ways by the recoil. By the time I recovered enough to return, you were already looting a gas station,” He finishes, dryly.

“Yeah, well, Dad didn’t think much of leisure as a virtue. Also I was thirsty, because I’d just crawled out of my own grave.”

“And I was distracted, because I’d just fought my way out of the inferno while being digested by a demented human soul.”

“You wanna call it even?”

Cas lifts his brows. “If you don’t mind.”

 There is a long, dark breath, during which their little smiles fade. 

 “So, all that,” Dean says, because he’s a fucking coward.

“All that,” says Cas, because he isn’t.

 Dean clears his throat. “That means you can see my soul-stuff 24/7, huh?”

Castiel slides one leg up onto the bench, shifts to sit astride it, like he’s maybe about to deliver an after-school PSA on the Real Deal About Drugs. “I can always see myself, and extensions of my self. And since your soul made itself into an integral part of me…I can see you.”

“I take it that’s not exactly in the manual.”

“No. I didn’t entirely understand it at first — for a long time, I convinced myself it was because you were designed to be a celestial vessel, and that I had been destined to save you from Hell.”

That thin, acidic feelings starts to rise up in Dean’s chest again. “Do you…” A dry swallow reflex grabs his throat. “Hm. Fuck.”

“What?” Cas asks, scooting forward. An angel. Scooting. What a world. “You can ask me anything, Dean. I hope we’re both past being offended.”

“Have you ever thought that. This whole deal. Our…thing.” Dean lets out a breath. “The way you feel about me. The way I feel about you.”

“Do I worry that its only basis is our shared material?”

Dean licks his lips, works a jaw muscle, forces out a nod. 

Cas frowns, sets one elbow up against the table, then lets his head tip to the side. “Why do you love Sam?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I get it, he’s my brother. We got shared material, too. But we’re not talking genetics.”

“Genes were the initial basis of your love for Sam. But you share half as much material with Adam. Do you love him fifty percent as much as you do Sam?”

“One, love doesn’t work that way and you know it, and two, fucking of course not. I barely know the guy, and what I’ve seen didn’t exactly blow me away.” Not that the poor dumb kid ever really had a chance. “Sam’s Sam, he’s earned it a million times over just by bein’ him.”

“Then you understand.”

“But Cas, man…I…” Dean laughs, which is an abbreviated form of screaming, “I treated you like shit.”

Cas nods. “You did.”

“Okay, the rules say you’re not supposed to agree with me.”

“But the balance remains in your favor. Dean, are you genuinely afraid that you — care for me…”  and Dean can hear the FCC live-bleep in that one, like does his total cowardice have a special color Cas can see with his soul-o-vision? “Only out of some compulsion?”

“No,” Dean says, to the great surprise of his frontal cortex, which was busy kicking the shit out of itself. “No,” he says again, just to make sure it wasn’t a fluke, that that answer actually came out of him and entered the living air between them.

Then the wave is rolling towards him and he enters that slim moment of body-physics where you either take a lungful and commit to diving under the break, or you kick out against the undertow, arch your back to meet the blow, and let yourself be flown all the way up to the waiting shore––

“No,” Dean says, “I love you.” And he chokes up a little, first at the release of saying it, then at how much of exactly jack-shit it changes anything so what was he even scared of, and then at the look on Cas’s face: how he’s frozen. Like that dog from that video, the one that loved tennis balls so goddamn much that his owner bought him a thousand fucking tennis balls and dumps them out all at once and the dog absolutely stalls the fuck out, just seconds on end of underspecced dog-brain hang time before he finally snaps back to reality and loses his absolute shit scrabbling all over the porch.

Castiel comes back online with a little choking noise of his own, and a kind of awkward scrabble for Dean’s hand.

“I have for a long time,” Dean continues, because apparently he’s continuing, “I’ve loved you for fucking ages, Cas. In people years, anyway, I’m sure that mean’s fuckall to somebody who’s a zillion––”

“I don’t,” Cas says thickly, “really give a damn about the age difference, Dean,” and cracks into a chuckle.

“So how come you never knew it?” Dean asks, feeling freedom turn into a hunger or something like vertigo. “If you can see my soul, how could you not know?”

Cas shrugs, a bit helplessly.

“Seriously,” Dean laughs, “how did I manage to hide that shit so well? Sammy found every nudie mag I ever shoplifted.”

Cas shakes his head. “You’ve never actually been able to hide anything from me.”

Dean scoffs. “C’mon, man. I snowed you plenty, or else we woulda had this conversation dirtside a long time ago.”

“Whatever I missed, Dean…it wasn’t because you succeeded at hiding it,” Castiel says, softly. He takes a slow, shaky breath, and meets Dean’s eyes with a smile. He lifts a hand to Dean’s face, bone and flesh on flesh and bone. “I just loved you enough to look away.”

 It’s a long time before they go back inside. By any measure. {AO3}

[parismemes]

SENTENCE STARTERS FROM RED VS. BLUE SEASON 15

“you touch my baked beans, i put dog shit in your pillowcase.” “every other person in this miserable place is literal garbage.” “books on tape? what's the appeal of that? don't the pages get stuck together?” “when in doubt use a confusing acronym. military types love acronyms.” “FML. that stands for fu--” “i’ll bend down and kiss your boots, how’s that?” “i wanna know every step you take and how much shit gets stuck on your shoes and in-between your teeth.” “you know, i think i'll probably move to LA, but that's like what everyone does. i mean, what do you think?” “i’m gonna skin your cat for this.” “i’m actually thinking of adopting a stage name.” “i’m gonna smash cut your empty skull against that rock if you don’t shut the fuck up!” “i wanted to call it desert titties, but that shit was taken.” “ah, there goes the bechdel test.” “you should interview the illuminati!” “real talk here: i'll be your genie in a bottle, i'll do whatever you want, but after i grant you your three wishes, you gotta do something for me, whaddaya say?” “my ceaseless existence is an eternal torment!” “next time he calls you please, just, let it go to voicemail. don't transfer to me. okay?” “i can’t even hear myself think in this blizzard of idiocy!” “did you attempt to witness any other particular individuals in the general vicinity of the area in which the crime scene was alleged?” “i just wanna be included!” “funny, the vultures usually show up after the slaughter.” “you’re a little bit crazy, aren’t you? i like that.” “consequences... don't always take the shape we expect them to, do they? they're funny like that.” “...are we still married?” “people are quick to jump to conclusions. they see something, or hear something, and fit it into a preconceived emotional box.” “please don’t make me regret what i’m about to tell you.” “whoa, hold up--i just realized how much i don’t care.” “SUCK IT, NEWTON!” “we said we wouldn’t talk about that!” “help me be the best at being lazy.” “it was a simple mishap with my vanilla-satin scented candles!” “why is he naked?” “HOW DO YOU BURN DOWN A WATER PARK, ___?!” “we’re definitely not just saying that because she could kill us.” “for far too long our people have been oppressed, crushed, under the weight of ourselves! if we don't start standing up to our mortal foe gravity, by god, who will?” “we’ve never needed intelligence before!” “why doesn’t anybody die and stay dead?” “oh, cool! foreshadowing.” “who wants a poisoned pumpkin frappuccino?” “i quit. i’m not going. i’m staying here.” “you’ve always been selfish, but this is bullshit!” “you know, i liked them better when they were funny.” “it’s a bop-it.” “sleep. means. death!” “i know ___ said we should split up, but i was thinking maybe we split up together, you know, because it's scary!” “you talk about ___ a lot.” “this is a big city. so many places for snakes to hide. they could be everywhere all around us. watching us... licking their snake lips...” “jesus, doesn’t anybody speak esperanto?” “err is not a word.” “why do you look alone?” “why don't you tell us what's going on, and we can decide whether to kill you or not?” “looks like we've got quite the sticky mess on our hands!” “oh, i know all about sausage parties! uh, wait, that came out wrong.” “when I least expect it: whambo! you pry open my mind prison and suck out my brain beans!” “i realize now that i’ve just spilled all my brain beans.” “we're just a bunch of dumb rejects hurling ourselves against impossible odds.” “i’m only saying something because i’ve been used enough times in my life already.” “nice! super awesome of you guys! that was sarcastic.” “don’t care. just help me with my dramatic exit.” “that's a great idea! i was just about to suggest it.” “i always say a marine without a code is like a car without a road.” “i always say the best defense is a really tall fence.” “i always say a good soldier is like a rollin’ boulder.” “i always say a mantra a day keeps death at bay.” “i've grown soft around these uncultured philistines.” “goddamn, i can’t believe i have to hear this shit in stereo now.” “you two look cozy.” “i didn’t realize you two were close.” “you’re being too hard on yourself. you’ve changed over the years, i’ve seen it myself.” “i've grown from being a dishonorable killing machine to an honorable killing machine. that's quite the journey.” “i changed my mind. you are evil.” “you don’t have to destroy the past to have a future.” “strategizing can wait until breakfast, at least.” “i killed them. i MURDERED them. i set my vengeance free upon them and it felt so good!” “are we gonna do some snooping around?” “have you ever considered a life in showbusiness?” “try harder, fuckface!” “can we please just bury the hatchet and focus on what's important?” “your mother’s lasagna is mediocre!” “if you guys had to get shot somewhere in your body, where would you do it?” “i can't hear you because some idiot shot my ear off!” “this whole situation is garbage enough to begin with, but... at least we're in it together.” “no plan survives first contact with the enemy.” “the only thing that would make this better is some music.” “we were pawns in their game. but the thing that I love about chess is that sometimes pawns kill kings.” “no, actually, i was raised by wolves. in the forest.” “sometimes i feel like people barely acknowledge my presence.” “something weird might be going on around here.” “anyone who's acting that squeaky clean must have some deep dark secrets.” “ha! gotcha! that's exactly the kind of things bad guys say!” “they used us, they destroyed our lives, and they haven't been made to pay for what they've done.” “you obviously love the sound of your own voice, so why don't you use it to tell its where the fuck our friends are?” “i’m going to kill you so hard, you’ll wish you were dead.” “we fought alongside each other for fucking years. how can you just turn your backs on us like this?” “you don't get to give orders if you're on the bad guys' side!” “now I have gonorrhea and a dead friend.” “stop. touching. my face.” “buckets! oodles! oodles of noodles and toaster strudels! tiempo de mucho. mucho de tiempo!" “yeah, well, i don't remember you being anything but a huge dick, but here you are being cool, so people change.” “yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers!” “but.. i never got to say goodbye. or thank you for being my friend.” “i'm gonna need a week at the chiropractor when we get out of here.” “is it possible to hallucinate with your ears?” “i’m not here to kill you.” “uh-oh spaghetti-o’s.” “fuck me! fuck all of this!” “you should totally kill me if it strikes your fancy! no pressure!” “the world's best swordsman doesn't fear the second best. He fears the worst, because he can't predict what the idiot will do.” “i can't imagine us doing anything but making this all worse.” “shit, dude! you’re the best we’ve got!” “i like pushing small children down wells.” “can we please settle on a consistent denomination? are we using cardinal directions or are we using clock positions?” “i'm so sneaky. they don't even know what's happening. you can't even see me right now, ___. you're so confused.” “shut up and help me punch this fucking tank!” “as far as days to die go, it's a little overcast. so let's check our corners and make these bastards pay!” “let's light the fires and kick the tires!” “let’s dance with these monkeys and give ‘em what for!” “let's put the pedal to the metal and the rubber to the road!” “let’s get jiggy with it!” “let’s shoot this monkey full of heroin and put it on youtube! actually, let's not do that, it sounds completely horrible.” “let’s teach these midgets how to tango!” “honor, schmonor.” “scout's honor! except I was never a scout because I'm afraid of badges.” “why are we here?” “we don't know why we're here. it's still one of life's great mysteries, isn't it?” “i’m sorry i tried to kill you, it wasn’t personal!” “you'll be stuck between a rock and the frying pan.” “if i said that i would weep for them, would it make you feel any better?” “best friends should be able to say goodbye.” “i think you are cool. like, super awesome, amazing, cool and... i, i always felt like really awesome too, when we were hanging out together.” “i know with my other friends--who, even if you add them all up together aren't really cool as you--i know we're all gonna be okay.” “if you kill me, you'll just perpetuate this never-ending cycle of revenge and retaliation!” “he asked us to deliver an important message to you all. but then he just sang the ducktales theme song and fell back to sleep.” “you know i’ll never forget this, right? i mean, PTSD is forever, isn’t it?” “it’s not the sum of your parts that makes you who you are.” “these people have shown me that real heroes are not born, they're forged. a friend told me once that there's no fate but what you make. and i think he's right.” “alright, well, i'm just gonna try to forget that ever happened and never bring it up again.”

[r-a-d-imagines]

>_> so like Diavolo is my favorite... could you do nsfw yandere headcannons? Maybe add Lucifer Asmo and someone of your choice in there too? You’re fuckin’ awesome!! 💫✨🌟

A.N ; my heart!!!!! y o u ‘ r e awesome!!!! i’ll add on mammon if that’s okay!warnings ; y a n d e r e, violence? maybe? unspoken violence (for the most part) i guess, possessiveness, that sort of thing, a p i n c h of somnophilia? mammon’s didn’t end up t o o nsfw, but the others are still v e r y much so

Diavolo, Lucifer, Asmodeous, and Mammon ; NSFW Yandere Headcanons

Diavolo- for your sake, i hope you like being a living doll.- diavolo loves, loves, l o v e s showing you off-so you’re almost always dressed up fancy, no matter the occasion. should anyone see you, they’ve got to know how radiant you are, of course-provided anyone d o e s ever see you.- more often than not, you stay locked up and at diavolo’s side-and since he usually takes away your clothes in private so he can ogle your body as he pleases... can’t have anyone seeing you then, can he?- he likes to throw parties simply for the sake of showing you around as his arm candy-he makes quite sure to keep you close, leaning over frequently to whisper in your ear about what’s to happen when the party ends.- “i’m going to have to rip up this outfit when we get back to our room, too many people are staring at you, honey.”- “you know i can see you looking at lucifer and his brothers, right...? is there something you’re trying to tell me? we can talk about it when the party’s over, my love.”- despite how happy and cheerful he presents himself to be during such occasions, the iron grip around your waist is a constant reminder of your... less than ideal situation. well-maybe it’s a good situation, that depends on what you make of it.- diavolo isn’t the w o r s t yandere there is, probably the easiest to be with if it weren’t for his... insatiability. he thinks he’s entitled to you-your body-whenever he should feel like having it.- it’s not a rare occurrence to wake up with his dick inside of you-if anything, that’s every other morning.- “these new pajamas i got you are just so pretty, you know...? i’m sorry for waking you, sweetheart, but...” he’ll usually excuse it away like that, but, in truth-he doesn’t care, he’s not very sorry at all. you’re his, you’re his pretty little doll-he’ll play with you if wants to. so what if it means intruding upon your sleep? in his mind, you’ll enjoy it, so why should he be sorry?- that’s the thought process he has with a lot of the things he does-why should he be sorry when you love him and everything he does? ... because you do love him, don’t you?Lucifer- it could be worse. ... you’re not sure how, but, surely, it could be worse.- everything he does, he does for you-that’s what he tells you, at least. you’re chained up in his room because he loves you. no one is allowed to see you because you’re safe that way. he’s the only reliable person in all of the devildom, so that’s why he’s all you need. he’s got a reason and an excuse for just about everything.- complain, cry, scream at him all you want-hate him, for all he cares. you’re his, and you’re going to be treated as such. and that has two very different meanings, i should mention.- behave, tell him all the things he likes to hear, and you’ll be treated like royalty. ... well. a royal pet, but, still royalty. if you’re nice, you’ll lose the chain keeping you bound to the wall for a little while, he’ll take you out to the kitchen with him to get something to eat, and of course, it goes without saying you’ll be treated amazingly in bed once you’re back in his room, but...- if by chance you d o n ‘ t behave... he keeps all the whips and such in his room for a good reason. cry all you want-he’s not going to let up until he gets an apology, a sincere promise that it won’t happen again.- once he’s satisfied, provided he’s feeling generous, he’ll come to you where you are by the wall and reward you-though it’s hardly a reward for you, with how sore you’d be, being jostled around as he fucks you is more painful than anything, but if you don’t act like you like it and thank him, it’s only going to be worse on you, he keeps the whip in his hand just in case.- and he’ll talk to you a lot, too, in... not the nicest of ways. g o d, will he ever talk. he won’t shut up. it’s infuriating, the smug tone of his voice, the smirk on his face, the way he stares down at you.- “... my dear, you don’t sound entirely pleased. it hurts, does it? well... how very unfortunate. perhaps try not to upset me next time.”- “you got yourself into this-do you just like my punishments, i wonder...? is that why you always act this way? or is it for my attention?”- ... it could be worse. you know it could be worse somehow. he at least cares enough not to eat you, you guess.Asmodeous- talk about a constant state of vaguely frightened irritation... he really does confuse you.- he’s not scary-he’s not even harmful, truthfully, he’s never hurt you physically, as punishment or otherwise, but he’s definitely... manipulative. upset him, and he’ll cheat on you, make you feel guilty for it, say all manner of mean things-only to rush to console you and kiss away your tears when you finally lose it an apologize, mumbling empty, baseless apologies against your skin, excusing it away with the claim of “i just had to teach you a lesson, baby...”- if he loves you as much as he says he does, you should be enough for him, right...? he shouldn’t go around and cheat on you, right? you’re his favorite, all he wants-right?- ... in short, you’re wrapped around his pretty fingers, and he has you right where he wants you most of the time.- whether he actually feels genuine love for you, stands to be seen, but he does know one thing-he definitely likes owning you. you’re something of a toy for him-always there when he wants you, always there to provide him with entertainment. he has no real qualms about cheating on you and sleeping around-after all, to him, it’s hardly cheating, he doesn’t consider you his significant other or anything, but...- he does always find himself coming back to you, and enjoying your presence a little more than any of his other little flings. there’s something about you that gnaws at him, constantly, making him crave you and only you sometimes-sleep around as he might, he has noticed it even feels better when does it with you.- he even feels something almost like guilt when he comes home after sleeping with someone else and sees the look on your face-that knowing, heart broken look, as you stare at the floor and mumble an apology while tears bubble up in your eyes.- rest assured-he always makes it up to you once he hears what he wants to hear, you’d be rewarded handsomely with whatever you might want.- “oh, come here, baby... i’m so happy you apologized-you know i hate doing this, right? it’s only to teach you a lesson, you know? now come on-how about you lay down so i can say sorry the right way?”- maybe he loves you-maybe he just loves the thought of you, of owning you. you’ll never know-frankly, neither will he. but why worry about such things when he can forget about it and fuck you until you both pass out?Mammon- compared to everyone else here? a puppy. a harmless, albeit annoying puppy.- the world will surely end if he doesn’t have your constant, undivided attention-and while he doesn’t go so far as to lock you up or anything, he’s certainly very... reactive, if you pay attention to anyone or anything else for even a second.- he’ll appear at your side at once, if he wasn’t already there, grip insistent as he tugs you against him, glaring at whatever stole your attention away, and likely yelling at it, if it happened to be a person.- “HEY! the hell do ya’ think you’re doin’? shoo, shoo, go away, leave ‘em alone! mine! go bother somebody else!”- you’ve just about lost all your friends because of him, nobody wants to go near you because he’s always there being a baby, but... at least you have him? there’s gotta be a positive in that notion somewhere, right?- greedy as he is, in the bedroom, mammon is very... demanding? that word is an understatement, but-i digress.- he’s not domineering so much as he is bossy and, again, whiny, throwing a fit until you touch him more often than not-but on the other hand, there are the odd occasions where mammon gets all... soft, and tender, with you.- it happens out of nowhere, usually-you’ll be sitting with him on the bed, probably doing your own thing and ignoring him out of annoyance, and he’ll start getting increasingly antsy, fidgeting about until he seems to snap-and suddenly, he’s no longer on the bed, but one the floor at your side, on his knees.- he tugs at your arm, mumbling quietly in hopes that you won’t hear-he’s sorry for bothering you all the time, but you understand, right? he doesn’t mean to, honest, he just needs you, please don’t be upset anymore, please, he’ll die if you stay mad at him, please say something, hit him if you want to, he doesn’t care as long you’re paying attention to him.- you have to admit-it’s an adorable sight, the way he shudders with relief when your hand touches his head, the way he smiles when you sigh and say it’s whatever, don’t worry about it, you’re not angry-and the way he whimpers when you suddenly yank at his hair, adding on that it’d be nice if he got up and apologized the right way... that’s just a bit of a bonus.

[vanityloves]

Storm and ivy + medic

@septemberlove i have. no excuse for how late these are but uh. thank you for sending these in 💕.

[word count: 1.8k+ with the longest 'authors note' bc im mentally ill]

sfw, mmm comfy cozy, general sick hcs,

storm - what are cozy days in with your f/o like?

Whenever I think of cozy days, my brain immediately goes to rainy/chilly weather where we can cuddle up together and my brain short fuses. I'm gonna assume this is just like a day off or something though!

How I visual them together vs how I write them is odd because they technically don't act or accept they're 'together' until after the comics but I always write them like they're in a Steady Relationship while on base. I'm always writing a slight AU if you will. Or maybe it's after they get their jobs back at Mann co - I should highkey adjust that but No ♥️. No more thinking, just content based off my idealized universe.

There's definitely a point in their relationship where it's like 'I think I have to put in a little more work here'. I'm not saying either party is slacking but they're slacking ♥️. Neither of them really take action. Chef doesn't blame him or really complain about it because that's their nature, plus they don't know how romantic relationships really work or flow, especially with a person like him. Medic doesn't see an issue with anything and continues on with his normal business. 

What I mean by slacking is, there's not a lot of quality time being spent together which would be fine if it wasn't both of their strongest Love Languages, which could help them strengthen their relationship. It's odd because they're 'romantically involved' but they don't spend a lot of time together for either of them to consider it romantic, simply because it's on company time. 

ANYWAYS THATS JUST ME BEING CONVOLUTED. FEEL FREE TO JUST IGNORE ALL OF THIS.

Medic goes to bed pretty late and wakes up at a fairly early hour. Chef is a late sleeper and forced to be an early riser because their Actual Job is to make at least 2 or 3 meals a day (if they want something else, they're on their own but hate when anyone messes up the kitchen and will honestly, stand there and watch said person).

There's minimal time they can spend together if they want to do their own activities - for Medic, it's tinkering around with organs or in Engie's garage, for Chef, they're typically meal prepping or trying to tend to an animal or plant of some sort.

Medic is actually more direct about wanting attention and it's never been a problem because he's cautious about it. Chef is more emotionally inclined and willing to drop hints that they want more attention. 

Chef probably has one day off where it's a complete free for all, for the rest of the team, which would be the perfect time to spend with Medic - If he wanted to stop working, that is. Just don't picture it but, Chef will literally sit in the medbay for hours just to be near the guy, but it isn't bad? The drone of machinery or the scratching of his pen is relaxing, or having his doves nearby is always sweet! Plus, he's prone to talking their ear off when he finds something interesting, so they'll chime in and have some back and forth.

But, yknow - sometimes having someone's undivided attention is nice and Chef is pretty dense when it comes to that and wonders why they feel so upset.

They swallow their pride and ask Medic if they sleep in his room one night and Medic's not as dense as Chef, he understands that they'd never ask for something so out of the blue for no reason and he promises to finish up his work early so they could head to bed together. Chef had nothing planned, they literally just needed that affection and closeness - since it was their day off Medic takes the hint and puts his work aside for the time being.

They'd probably sleep in and stay in bed a while longer before getting ready together - no uniform required. Chef isn't so talkative in the mornings, Medic's noticed, but they were happily fiddling with his buttons and tie, humming in thought before answering his questions. Medic's seen them out of uniform of course, but it's always funny seeing them in just a button up and jeans like … mom on the go vibes. Medic leaves his coat behind before making his way to the kitchen with Chef. 

The kitchen usually has a couple people loitering around, grabbing their coffee or honestly, waiting around for Chef because they always make extra and these bitches are lazy. But the kitchen has now become A Medic Supremacy Zone and he has first dibs - the benefits of being w/ Chef I guess. The two would work as if the others weren't there, keeping their conversation between each other even if that means Medic tilting his head down while Chef leans in closer to reply. There's a high possibility the other have left them to their own devices, seeing as the couple was ignoring them / knows they won't be getting anything. Breakfast isn't extraordinary but it feels special since they actually get to sit across each other and share the morning today.

It's possible that they'd go out and run some errands today, but it's a cover to window shop and walk around. I'll be honest, they probably haven't had proper dates so it's refreshing. You could ask Chef what they liked the most and they're just like :] Yes. 

Other times, they like to curl up and catch up with some reading (well, Medic at least) while Chef rests against him and skim over the words. They're not too invested in what he's reading but likes to have some idea of what he's talking about so they don't ask too many questions. (Very 'these words are big and english/german is not my first language + I can't read as fast as you can so I got lost 7 pages ago). Medic likes to watch Chef garden and tries to help them tend to whatever they're able to grow in the goddamn desert. He overwaters a cactus and looks away if it dies. Chef talks ab how they're growing mint and how it really took off while Medic's standing there like :] Oh, lets make tea with that. Because they're Old People (read: Medic is old)

🕊🐁

ivy - how do you take care of each other when you’re sick?

Chef is easier to take care of when they're sick. They continue working until they're pretty beat but once they feel sick and a break doesn't work, they'll try to finish up what they can before turning in early. They see themselves to bed and inform whoever's near that they won't ne there at dinner and if they really cant figure it out, then come get them - other than that, they're barricading themselves in their room.

When they're sick they're REALLY sick but recovery time is usually a few days (depending on how bad it is). They basically hibernate and don't like being disturbed. They're used to not fending for themselves since they've been on their own for a while but really appreciate all the check ins Medic does w/ them, especially when they're all better. 

Medic, being...their Medic, he definitely gives them a check up when they first begin showing symptoms and he can be a stickler when it comes to drinking fluids and eating properly. Chef usually has a  finicky stomach as it is so Medic really urges them to drink soups and easy foods like bread and crackers. He checks in on them A LOT, even if that's just peeking in to see if they're asleep or not. He backs off when Chef gives him a cold stare from under the covers and minimizes his intrusions/tries to be more sneaky about it. He has colder hands and they let out a sigh when he puts his hand to their cheek or forehead to check their temperature. 

Chef doesn't hesitate to take any medication he has for them, mostly bc they aren't fully coherent but they also don't have energy to care, in fact they have the thought that if he accidentally kills them, maybe respawn will cure them. Unfortunately, Medic debunks this before they can even muster up the energy to ask.

Overall 7.5/10, very good patient. Will refuse to get up and accidently falls asleep in the shower which scares the shit out of him.

Medic on the other hand is very stubborn and doesn't like to stop working unless there's something that physically stops him (ex: vomiting, serious injuries [unlikely bc medigun], etc). If he tricked the Devil, surely the man can beat the common cold or flu! Unfortunately he gets those full body shivers and feels terrible. He can be pretty dramatic when he's sick and everyone's subjected to his bad attitude. 

It's Chefs turn to play doctor - they can tell by looks alone that he's under the weather. His face is flushed and he's a bit sloppily put together, which isn't *too uncommon* but his tie isn't tied and his glasses lamely slide down his nose. They tsk a bit while taking his temperature just to keep track of it before ushering him to his room.

He can be dragged to bed if persistent enough. Chef's firm hold on his arm is enough for him to get off his chair and have them tug him along. He doesn't have any room to argue with them as they look up at him, so he relents, stating that a short break would definitely do him good, but he'll be up and at em by tomorrow. 

Chef is doting and becomes a bit of a helicopter parent when checking on him. This mostly consists of peeking their head in but not really stepping in the room. Every so often they'll wake him up to drink water and either hand him an ice pack or offer a cold towel and move to dab at his forehead and neck.

Medic hasn't been too keen on having others taking care of him bc that's HIS job, and he often tries to shoo Chef away by saying he's more than alright now. Sometimes he's caught sitting up in bed doing work or taking notes on something bc he's a bit restless when he's sick and stationary for too long.

But he's right. He's very good at taking care of himself - when Chef offers him food he'll force himself to eat some of it and he's drinks plenty of fluids without needing reminders. He kinda bosses Chef around, telling them to grab certain medications from the Medbay. They trust his judgment on his own health and bring him what he asks for but Chef keeps a mental note of what he takes and when. Don't need the doctor accidentally taking too many pills today!

Overall 6.5/10. It's hard to get him into bed and becomes restless fairly easily. He is persistent that he's ok after one day of rest only to be found sneezing himself away in the Medbay. 

[mindwideopen]

Ok, have they invented this neutralizer yet?! For those of you not familiar with the movie men in Black, this gadget that tommy lee Jones is holding is a machine that when activated, causes you to immediately forget the last experience you had. And I can use this gadget in my life. Matter of fact, I’m in dire need of it. There are a lot of memories in my life, that I need to get rid of. Purge. Release. Let go. How?

So when you think of a memory, you reactivate the feeling you felt when it first occurred. So I pose this question, to myself; how do I forget, memories that hurt, and don’t serve me anymore? A huge conundrum. Because I haven’t been able to figure it out yet. I still get sucked into the same trap I always do: Victimization.

I, am a victim, of my own thoughts. My focus is ass sometimes, depending on my mood, and where I allow my mind to go with said mood. For example, this morning. I woke up, and wrote about how I’ve never felt included or that I belonged. The world of entertainment is exclusive only to certain people, and I am not accepted or one of them. They are on the inside, and they blocked, deleted, dismissed, and shut the door on me. The end. Ok, sure. Here’s the proof; unemployed, no friends to collaborate with, not famous or rich, and people are abondoning me like flies that fly away from shit after they’ve had their fill. Not a good thought tragectory for success. So all I see now, is the evidence of that of which I believe.

“My shit, is better than your shit! I get paid well, to produce my shit. I feel, that YOUR shit, is inferior shit, so I will block you, even though we were contemporaries at one point in our lives. You went your way, I went mine. My shit got noticed. My shit, got accolades and awards. And your shit? Still shit. Oh, and I no longer want to be associated with YOUR shit, cause your shit, again, is shit. So later, never.”

“Oh yeah? Well my shit, isn’t a sell out to the mediocre shit that is shit! And just because you’re recognized and praised publicly for your shit, doesn’t necessarily mean that the shit you produce, is good shit. I happen to believe that your good shit, isn’t. And I’m true to my shit. At least I’m into my own shit. Your shit you sell to someone else that has the same shit going on. And shit n the shit. Shit is as shit does. So there!”

And never the 2 shits shall mix again, in the shit pile, of life. These last 2 paragraphs? Are shit. They are the energy of this: fear. Let’s break it down: indignation, judgement, separatism, more judgement, non inclusion, rash generalization, labeling, even more judgement, hate, and then.... competition, jealously, bitterness, hurt, jadedness, anger, loathing, and yes, fear.

Thank you, agent j...

On the flip side, maybe that wasn’t how we on both ends feel about one another after all, and we just believe it, due to our fears.

Agent J (played by the wonderful, will smith): ok you two, this is how this it’s now going to go down. Person being ridiculous and not in the love # 1, you say this:

“Well, i don’t think your shit is inferior to mine. I never thought that. I was rude about your shit because I felt attacked. I may not understand all your shit, and I’m usually so busy with my head up my ass looking at my own shit...”

Person not in the love being ridiculous #2, you say this:

“We all are.”

Ok, #1 say this:

“Yes, but I appreciate and value you as a person, and our opposition and shit, isn’t an issue for me anymore.”

#2 say this:

“Really? Cause I’ve always admired what you’ve done with your shit. I mean, you’ve gotten a big big platform for your shit, and that’s cool n shit. And I’m glad that we’re discussing this shit, and our collective shit, finally, cause years have gone by, and all this time I’ve been thinking that you hate me and my shit, cause I haven’t seen you in years, and we’re not in each other’s lives anymore.”

Person #1 say this:

“Really?! You don’t hate me for the success I’ve had with my shit?! I blocked you because I read your shit and I basically thought you were sour shit with your shit, kinda being shitty about me and the shit I’m all about.”

Person #2 say this:

“No, if I insulted you with my shit, I definitely didn’t mean it, and I’m glad we’re cool with the shit now.”

Both of your non loving dumb asses:

“Yeah. Shit. All this time wasted thinking shit about one another...”

Agent j. (Continued): Both, understood? Yes! Great! Go forth, in love!

Agent J, has got it down. Did you take notes? No need. All it is, is empathy, understanding, and communication it. In this case, that’s what love looks like.

There are only 2 true emotions that all emotions end up breaking down to, and those are fear, and love. Anything that doesn’t come from a loving place, is fear. “You are NOT like me.” Fear. “What you do, is not ok with me.” Also fear. Fear comes in many packages, and not all of it is immediately recognizable. But if you stop to think about it, it is about the loveless behavior we exhibit, due to our basic need to be understood, and to belong.

“Why should I belong?! Why?! If they don’t accept me, fuck em!” Fear. “She’s a complete mook! She uses terms like mook, which I judge as a racist term, but in actuality the meaning is italian slang for someone who is an idiot. Fine, she’s not a racist, but she’s judging someone as an idiot! Still hate her...” also fear. Fear runs rampant in our society right now. Hate, is real, because people believe in it’s existence, and react to it because it’s real to them. Our beliefs, create our past, current, and future reality.

So, men in black. A great trilogy of movies. Very smart, very cool, and extremely ahead of the curve as far as human evolution is concerned. They have gadgets for the things that we have control over ourselves, with our focus, and our perceptions about certain subjects. And I would like to be neutralized now, for reactivating all of my past “shit” beliefs about others, and myself. Because I now feel, like shit, having thought about all the past shit that was shit.

So, I pose this question to myself; “if you have that neutralizer machine that allows you to forget what you have just experienced, would it work on the thoughts you remember about the times you felt like shit if you reactivate the shit, by remembering it?” My husband thinks it’s different, and it wouldn’t work. He maintains that you have dragged all of your new experiences to support the old ones with you to your present when you reactivate it. I believe that if the feeling is reactivated, it’s still the same effect, shit, so instead of going back in time, and deleting the actual moment, you should be able to reactivate the feeling within yourself, and eradicate it with the neutralizer. Well, who’s right? Actually I don’t know. Cause how much of your past does it delete? 3 minutes? 10 minutes? Months? Years? There must be a setting or something. Cause in the first movie it’s a few minutes, right?? Then in the 3rd movie at the big climax I won’t give away, it’s like years. Like 3 or 4 years. So he forgot the shit. I mean he forgot everything and everyone and all the shit in between. So, at what point do you remember, what you clearly forgot? And the jump cut would be serious. You’d be like, “holy shit! I was in the shower, and now I’m sitting there eating ice cream on a park bench with some old people in a park on a sunny day and I think I looked like I could be in a karaoke video cause they ALWAYS film shit like that, and why? Cause I need to see a scene of 3 birds molting while I’m screaming“painkiller” by Judas Priest the karaoke version where it sounds like a synthesizer orchestra instead of that good hard rock shit?? And no! Both they and I ARE NOT satan worshipers, & Were also not satan his or her self because We are damn good people... shiiiiit... but wait, I shouldn’t speak for other people, so just forget that I said ANY of that shit, ok? Ok, agent j?

Agent j: yeah? (Say it in the low eddie Murphy is voice, like when he’s reeeeaaal serious n shit.)

Kari: can you delete all the shit I just said up until the point right before this entire thing I just wrote?

Agent j: no. (Say it in Eddie Murphy’s looooow voice again, the one he uses when he reaaally doesn’t want to engage in conversation with you, cause he thinks you’re a crazy witch with semi good grammar, cause I had to fix the “you’re” in “you’re a crazy witch” because autocorrect likes to make me look like I don’t include people and shit. YOU ARE, ok autocorrect?! I know what I’m trying to say! Do you? No! You don’t! So don’t change my shit! I’ll let YOU know when I want my shit changed! You better recognize n shit, witch or some shit...)

Kari: ok, fine. I’ll continue then... (sighs. Hey I tried for ya, people. Don’t say I didn’t ever do anything for ya...)...It’s just NOT not a good subject. All I can say is I love love, and all of loves peoples, which is ALL people, ok?! Cause people think orange is a political party to me, and it’s not, ok?! It’s not! It’s people who choose to be mean and crap like, alright? Cause there’s good people everywhere and why focus on the people who rip on you 24/7, cause you’re worth more than that! So yeah! I endorse my “LOVE shit! Argue with that by yourself n shit, cause I’m gonna love your mean ass regardless, ok? Cause that’s what love dictates my ass to do! Ok?! Yeah! So none of this hate shit any of your asses, ok? Cause I can’t take the shit. Any. More.... and, I love you. I also love those who chose not too, whenever that is, cause no one is 💯 in hate all the time, people are a mixed bag of moods and energies. Take this monologue for example! Good luck with THIS apple, and I love apples, and I love all people who love and hate and are indifferent to apples, therefore I love and choose all people, I engage with all inclusive energy and behavior, I celebrate differences and similarities both, I relish in the love that can be possible when people take the time to check in first with themselves, take ownership of their feelings and energy, and lead from a place of love and empathy, I care about you, and I care about others, and I care about me, as a part of the whole, and I love people, period. Love is the way, anything else is hell on earth. (takes deep breath, cause if you’re performing this monologue, you also have to read what’s in the parentheses too... so I had to make it worth performing, oh! & you better take some voice lesson or learn how to do Netherlands exercises or breathe deep from your diaphragm if you have one in or not to get waaaay down there to say all this shit in one breath, the way it’s intended to be read, or performed, cause I’m like Shakespeare’s first folio where he has a specific way to write and have you perform it with built in inflection called, “iambic pentameter” but no, I’m not Shakespeare, I’m a person seriously fucking with you, but I mean all this shit, at least the love stuff), only I’m naked and wet, cause they zapped my shit in the shower, and planted me in the park as a joke. Well, that shits not funny! Ok?! Cause I’m in a park naked with some old people lookin at my taters and my tots and my non tots in my Netherlands, ok?! So no! Don’t do that shit! Ok? No!

On second thought, we both are. Because our beliefs dictate what is real and true to us individually. So what he believes is true to him, and what I believe is true to me.

That poses another question; “how does one get on the same page with people who are not open to changing or adjusting their beliefs?” Some people are cool with not sharing the same opinions as others. “Oh well, I guess we can agree to disagree, cause I love your crazy ass regardless of our differences.” My ma and I are like that. She and I share different views on a lot of things, but we make it work, because we respect one another’s right to our beliefs, but come together, and choose to focus, on our similarities underneath it all. Do we both love? Yes. Do we both want the best for people? Yes. Do we both agree that love is a great thing to focus on? Yes. Great. Agreed. Love it is!

Love, is our neutralizer. Men in black is awesome, but in 2020, we’ve forgotten the basic principle of love. Love neutralizes the fear. Love brings us straight back together, where it feels better. Being right is great, and feeling indignation is satisfying for a few minutes, hours, months or years, but it never lasts. Love feels better. The reason why we choose to separate, is from a past hurt that we’ve experienced and have reactivated within us. I do it all the time. I find reasons to support my hypothesis that all people disrespect and disclude me. I find reasons, to stay in fear cause it feels safer not to engage.

I’m writing this for myself, as a reminder to stay open. But staying open to me, feels unsafe to people who take my openness and subsequent vulnerability for granted, and use it to their advantage. That’s another unhelpful belief I have. When you support yourself, and love you, you start to recognize that maybe people aren’t all that different from me after all. Maybe we all feel fear, and the need to protect ourselves. Makes sense. So, finding a common denominator (my son is doing math now, so I’m into that line of thought) is important not only for equations but for humanity’s interconnectedness as well. Finding common ground, and similarities, is important if you make it so. Feeling a safe place where we can agree, and all land not feeling taken, and trust is a first step to acceptance. And acceptance is a gateway to inclusion. And inclusion is a gateway to belonging. And belonging is a shared desire of all people. The feeling of love, when unrequited, hurts. So does the unrequited love we have for ourselves.

Thanks again agent j. Continually redefining ourselves, and our definition of love is very important, because we only feel the love is unrequited, when we rely on others to fill us up.

Agent j: you now believe that you are love, and have enough within yourself, for yourself, and everyone else. Now, go forth (yet again, how many times do I have to tell you this..) and LOVE dammit!

Yes. Utilizing the ability to love within ourselves eradicates all of this mess. But the bravery it takes to step out of your comfort zone to do it, that’s up to you. What do you believe? Do believe love is hard, or is it easy? Our beliefs run the show. So let’s take a look at those beliefs for a minute. How do we feel about ourselves, our lives, others, their lives, their beliefs, on and on and on. When you choose love, all of that fades into the background.

We are vibrational beings. We feel first, then think, then compare and contrast, then act. You can feel when someone is loving or not. And what we believe also dictates their supposed intention. So it’s a 2 way street. If we pay attention to how we feel, and look for love, are open to love and understanding that aids in seeing it. If you can’t get there, then choosing the next most loving thought will eventually enable you to see the more loving results in your life. But, you have to stick with it in order to witness it. And sometimes you have to really try to look for it, cause in the current energy of the world today, what you see, is what you have already thought. Old energy shows up, even if we change our minds in the inside. That can feel like ass. “But I’m different, and I’m still experiencing the same crappy thing.” Looking for a solution from the old energy you are reactivating? Probably not going to yield a result you will be happy with. The solutions come, by not focusing on the problem, at least for a bit, until you can adjust.

My son me a new term to me, “disjoint sets” the definition- they are sets that have no members in common. Basically, my old mindset. And then there’s the good ole Ven diagram, I love that one. The definition of a ven diagram is common elements brought together by circles of inclusion. My definition, probably different on google.

But the fact remains, life feels better, when we can share a common bond. Love is that bond. Love, is the underlying answer to all questions, to all comments, and all concerns. It’s a basic principle of life, that I’m still learning. I hope to be brave enough to ace it someday. Either that, or maybe some genius will invent the neutralizer for real. But maybe that’ll only be a temporary fix; kinda like reading the cliff notes. But cliff notes gloss over a lot of the good details. And I think by eliminating the love, I lose the opportunity to feel it.

Now let’s love with everyone, even those that differ from us, and really feel it. Cause you will benefit from it. Class dismissed.

[rushingheadlong]

Make My Life Worthwhile - A Brian x Reader fic

Summary: You always know to expect a few surprises at any Queen party. You just weren’t expecting a surprise like this.

Wordcount: ~3,100

Tags: Brian x f!Reader, a bit Halloween themed but mostly just a lot of fluff

Notes: Written for @generic-fandom-trash​ for the Halloqueen event! I had such a blast writing this, and I really hope you enjoy it! And thanks to @dtfrogertaylor​ for putting together another great event!

You are cordially invited to join Queen for a Halloween Masquerade, the gilded invitation had read. Masks required. Fancy dress optional.

The description had been vague, but Brian assured you that the event was mostly an excuse for Queen to spend as much of the label’s money as they could get away with before setting off on another tour. Judging by the lavishly decorated room that you’ve stepped into, they’ve met that goal quite well.

There’s no mistaking that it is a Halloween party, of sorts. The gothic manor house chosen to host the evening is the perfect backdrop for the festive decorations adorning every surface. Candles flicker in the wall sconces and jack-o’-lanterns grin on every table. And still, somehow the band has made it look decadent rather than trite.

Freddie sidles up next to you, unmistakable even with the opulent mask covering the upper half of his face. He’s dressed as a circus ringmaster, dripping gold and wearing silks, a whip hanging from one hip. He passes you a glass of wine and says, “So, what do you think of our little gathering, Y/N?”

“Well, it’s hardly little,” you point out, though that goes without saying. Nothing Queen does is ever little. “But it is fabulous, Freddie. You’ve outdone yourselves this time.”

“You’ve outdone yourself, darling, in that fabulous dress of yours,” Freddie says. “Has our dear guitarist seen you in it yet?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t seen him since this morning. I only just got here.” The band have been here for most of the day, coerced into doing a round of interviews on the new album as a requirement for the record company paying for the evening.

“Mm, well, when you do find him the rooms upstairs have locks on them,” Freddie says, slyly. “In case you two need a little privacy…”

“Freddie!” you protest, but you’re laughing despite yourself.

Freddie just winks at you and disappears into the crowd with a small wave, leaving you to strike out on your own in search of your boyfriend.

The room is fairly packed, with about three-quarters of the guests wearing costumes and everyone in the required masks. You’re grateful that you chose a simple costume, a medieval-style dress paired with a crown and some dainty jewelry, rather than some of the over-the-top ensembles that others are wearing. You squeeze past a pair of ridiculously oversized fairy wings and wonder how long it’ll take before those get broken on the dancefloor.

It shouldn’t be hard to find Brian and yet it takes you several minutes before you finally spot him across the room. His costume is as simple as yours- clothes he already owned paired with a dark cape, his mask plain black and doing little to hide his identity- but the sight of him still takes your breath away. Even though you’ve been with him for years, in moments like this you’re still overwhelmed by how much you love this man.

And the feeling, it seems is mutual, because although there’s someone standing next to Brian clearly trying to talk to him, Brian only has eyes for you. You watch his face light up in joy when he realizes that you’ve spotted him, and he quickly excuses himself from his conversational partner to make a beeline for you…

...only to be waylaid by someone else after taking barely a few steps forward. And you can see a third person watching from the sidelines, waiting to swoop in for their chance to talk to Brian as well, despite the fact that he keeps glancing at you and clearly doesn’t want to be chatting with anyone.

Luckily there’s no one stopping you as you cross the room and cut into the conversation with a breezy, “So sorry, I have to borrow Mr. May for a moment, important band business, you know how it is…” You usher Brian away with a gentle hand on his back, acting more of a bodyguard than a girlfriend, and you can feel Brian shake with barely-contained amusement.

“C’mon, let’s head outside,” Brian says, ducking his head close to your ear to be heard over the music and the crowd. “Less of a chance of being bothered out there.”

“Good idea.” You veer left, towards the door, tugging Brian along behind you.

Once you’re outside he laughs, bright and happy, and picks you up, spinning you around in a swirl of skirts and laughter. “You are my hero,” he tells you as he sets you back down, and kisses you on one cheek. “If had to answer any more questions I think I would have snapped.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” you say with a laugh. Your mask is slightly askew from Brian’s excited reaction and you reach up to fix it, only to have Brian push your hands away and gently pull it away from you face altogether.

“I’m pretty sure the party rules don’t apply once you’re outside,” he says, tucking the mask into his pocket.

You reach up and tug Brian’s mask off his face. “Then you don’t need to be wearing this either.”

Brian laughs again and says, “Alright, fair enough,” before the door opens suddenly behind you and a small group of partygoers comes stumbling out.

You and Brian both step to the side to let them pass, and Brian jerks his head towards the sprawling grounds behind you. Without anything else needing to be said, you follow him further away from the house and out into the quiet garden.

Even back here there’s evidence of Queen’s presence in the strings of fairy lights along the paths and jack-o’-lantern eyes flickering in the shadows. The windows at the rear of the house have been opened, letting the faint sounds of music and partying drift faintly through the garden, and the candles in the old wrought-iron lanterns bathe everything in a golden glow.

“lt’s lovely back here,” you say as you look around. Even with few plants left blossoming this late in the season, there’s still a certain beauty to the gardens.

“Definitely worth every cent of the label’s money,” Brian jokes. “But they got us back well and good with those interviewers…”

You make a small noise of sympathy and press close to Brian’s side, wrapping one arm around his waist. He smiles down at you, and some of the tension bleeds out of his frame as he drapes an arm across your shoulders. “It wasn’t too bad,” he assures you. “Just long, as it always is.”

“Still, I wish they’d give you a moment’s rest sometimes,” you tell him. “You aren’t recording or on tour, you should have a moment to just breathe.”

“That’s what tonight’s for,” Brian reminds you. “And we have an advantage for once.” You frown in slight confusion and Brian grins, broad and a little wicked, and explains, “The only people who aren’t in costume are journalists or with the label. Makes it easier to spot and avoid ‘em.”

That startles a laugh out of you, loud enough that if anyone else were around they’d be turning to look at you now. But there’s no one else in the gardens, just you and Brian, who’s looking down at you with a pleased sort of expression on his face, delighted by your unrestrained reaction.

“Speaking of costumes, you look beautiful tonight,” Brian continues. He turns so you’re standing face-to-face, and he looks you up and down. There’s nothing salacious in his gaze, but you still find yourself blushing at the attention. “Radiant, even. I saw you when you first walked in and I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

Compliments from Brian still make your heart flutter, even though you’ve been dating for several years. They’re always sincere and you always know that he means every word he says, no matter how cheesy they would sound coming from anyone else.

“Well you look quite handsome yourself, as you always do,” you tell Brian, though you can’t resist teasing him a little and adding, “Though, I don’t think throwing a cape over clothes you already own exactly counts as a costume…”

“In my defense, I was supposed to be a vampire, but I hated the fake teeth,” Brian explains.

Privately, you think Brian already has the perfect little fangs to complete a vampire costume, but you don’t tell him that. Instead you just smile at him and say, “That’s alright. We match better this way.”

Brian laughs. “That’s true. I can be your loyal servant.” He sweeps down into a dramatic bow, cape fluttering around him. “My lady.”

You giggle and reach for Brian’s hand, pulling him back upright. “I’d much rather have you as my prince,” you say. “Standing by my side, through thick and thin.”

“Why not both?” Brian asks. “I can stand next to you, but I’ll still always take care of you. No matter what.”

Your response is lost in a hitching breath as Brian brings your hand up and kisses it gently. There’s so much tenderness in the action, in his eyes, in the love that radiates out from every fiber of his being that it’s almost too overwhelming to bear, but you can’t seem to look away.

“Brian, I…” you breathe, but you don’t know how the sentence is supposed to end when I love you doesn’t begin to cover the magnitude of what you feel for him.

“Marry me,” Brian says suddenly, unexpectedly, the words coming out in a rush, like Brian wasn’t sure he could say them if he tried to draw it out.

You inhale sharply, caught completely off-guard by the abrupt turn in the conversation. “What? Did you just…?”

“I had this all planned out,” Brian continues quickly. “I was going to do everything right. I have a ring back home, and I was going to take you out to a nice dinner and propose in that park where we had our first date, and everything was going to be perfect, and-”

Brian shakes his head and laughs, just a little, and you can hear his nerves at the edges of it. “But then I saw you tonight, and I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t take my eyes off you. You could have been wearing a potato sack and I still would have stared. There’s a hundred people in that room and I didn’t care about a single one of them, except for you. So I don’t want to wait for perfect. I don’t want to wait a second longer.”

And you watch, spell-bound, as Brian drops to one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Y/N… Will you marry me?”

Everything about this moment should be ridiculous. You’re dressed as some fantasy princess and Brian is wearing a cape, with both of your masks sticking out the top of his trouser pocket. The sound of dance music is still noticeable around you, as are the pumpkins and decorations that mark this evening unmistakably as a Halloween party.

Brian doesn’t even have a ring. All he has is the adoring love in his eyes, and a look of hope on his face... and that’s enough. That’s more than enough.

“Yes,” you say, as if there was ever a chance of you answering otherwise. “Yes, Brian, of course!”

Your voice is a little watery and there are tears of joy pricking at the corners of your eyes but that’s okay, because when you pull Brian back to his feet you can see that his eyes aren’t dry either. You throw your arms around his neck with a small laugh, and even though you’ve kissed Brian a thousand times before you think it’s never been as wonderful as it feels right now.

But then again, you’ve never kissed your fiancé before.

“Oh my god, you’re my fiancé,” you say, the words coming out slightly mumbled against Brian’s lips.

Brian laughs a little, and says, “And you’re my fiancée too.” There’s a note of wonder in his voice and he kisses you again. “God, I love you.”

He takes a small step back and pulls one of his rings off, and slips it onto the ring finger of your left hand. It doesn’t quite fit you, and it’s bulky and heavy on your smaller hand, but you can’t hold back a bright smile at the sight of it.

“It’s perfect,” you say, beaming up at Brian.

“It’ll do, for now at least,” Brian says. He’s still holding your hand, brushing his fingers along the ring, and it sends shivers down your spine. “I should’ve at least waited until I had your proper ring on hand to do this…”

“No,” you interrupt gently, before Brian can start overthinking his actions and ruin his own happiness in this moment. “I’m glad you didn’t wait a second longer, and no amount of planning could have made this a better proposal.”

Brian smiles at you, a little crookedly, and asks, “Even though we’re both wearing ridiculous costumes?” It’s meant as a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity behind it that you can spot a mile away.

“Even with the costumes,” you reassure him. “I don’t care about the location, or what we’re wearing, or whether you had a ring with you or not. I don’t need things to be perfect, Brian. I just need you.” You grin at him and add, mostly teasing, “Besides, it’ll make a great story to tell our kids later.”

Brian makes a small, choked noise and says, in a slightly strained voice, “Let’s get through the wedding before talking about kids.”

You can’t help but laugh at Brian’s wide-eyed and panicked reaction, and you remind him, “We’ve already discussed kids before, remember?” You both agreed that you wanted children, eventually, and that had settled the matter for the time being.

“Yes, but that was before we were engaged and it became a real possibility,” Brian tells you. “I still want children but, well, one thing at a time.”

And Brian has a point there. You have to admit that even though you’re sure that you want a family with Brian, there’s something that’s a little scary about that prospect now that it’s no longer purely theoretical. “Alright, you have a point,” you concede easily enough. “Wedding first, children later.”

“Wedding first, then the honeymoon, and then children,” Brian tells you. You raise an eyebrow at that, and Brian explains, “I don’t care what schedule the record company tries to force on us, I am taking you on a proper honeymoon.”

You can hear the promise in Brian’s voice and you don’t doubt that he fully intends to do everything in his power to keep it, but you also know that life as the lead guitarist in Queen is nothing if not busy and unpredictable.

And nothing proves this fact better than a sudden new voice interrupting the conversation. “Ah, Brian, there you are!”

It’s John who’s quickly making his way over to the two of you. Much like Brian he took a simplistic approach to his costume, opting to come dressed as a skeleton which has the one advantage of allowing him to wear a full-coverage mask, which is currently pushed up and sitting on top of his head. “Sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed back inside. A few more journalists have turned up for interviews.”

“Ten minutes, is it too much to ask for ten minutes of peace?” Brian mutters, his shoulders tightening slightly with tension and irritation.

“Sorry,” John says again, with a small shrug. “But you know how they are.”

Brian looks up at the darkening sky, and takes a deep breath. “Is there any way you can cover for me? Please?” he asks. His voice is even, but it’s clear that it’s taking some control to keep his irritation at bay.

It doesn’t take John to figure out what, exactly, he interrupted. You watch as his eyes flick down to your hand that Brian is still holding, with the ring clearly visible on your left hand, and you can’t hold back a smile as he pieces it all together.

John grins at you and says, “Well, I guess congratulations are in order then. Took you two long enough.”

“Some of us like to take our time with these things,” Brian says, but the jab is good-hearted and some of his annoyance starts to fade away.

“Oh, I didn’t know that tonight’s spontaneity was your idea of taking your time,” you tease. Brian rolls his eyes at you, but he’s smiling again and that counts as a victory in your books.

“You two really are perfect for each other,” John says with a laugh. “Brian, I’ll cover for you with the journalists. In fact, if you just want to head home, I’ll let Roger and Fred know what’s up. I’m sure the two of them would be more than willing to make some distractions to hide your absence.”

“Are you sure?” Brian asks.

You elbow Brian in the side. “Do not question Deacy’s offer. I for one would love to go home and celebrate our new engagement.”

Brian’s face flushes slightly at the implication behind your words, and the flush only deepens when John says, “The rooms upstairs have locking doors, if you’d rather celebrate here.”

“No, no, I think we’ll head home,” Brian says quickly, pointedly ignoring the laughter from both you and John. “Thanks again, John. I owe you one.”

“Consider it your engagement gift,” John says, and he waves goodbye as you and Brian make your escape from the party.

“You know, Freddie’s not going to be happy that we didn’t tell him ourselves,” Brian says idly, as the two of you head towards the car park. “Roger will probably forgive us, considering the circumstances, but we’ll hear about this from Fred.”

You give Brian a wholly unimpressed look. “Would you rather go back and tell him yourself, then?”

“Absolutely not,” Brian says firmly. The two of you have reached his car and as he unlocks the doors he gives you a wide, and somewhat wicked grin, and adds, “The only thing I want to do is get home, and show you exactly how much I love you.”

You and Brian are sneaking away from Queen’s Halloween party, newly-engaged and still in your own costumes. There is no reason that the tiniest bit of innuendo should turn you on, but because it’s Brian it somehow does.

So you grab Brian by the front of his shirt and pull him into a quick, but fierce, kiss. “Well then, Mr. May,” you breathe, hot against his lips. “What exactly are you waiting for?”

[dragonastra]

1-100 on the DnD questions, for Deah >:3

Wow you're sure as hell fishing to kill me huh xD

I'll answer these under a read more cuz FUCK. I'll also try to keep it spoiler free -- I may mention stuff that hasn't come up in game but it would be stuff that might not ever come up explicitly anyway. Everything else has either been said or can be gleaned.

If your character wasn’t an adventurer, what livelihood would they lead Probably what she had been doing -- being a pirate

Who in the party would your character trust the most with their life Probably Maddie and/or Gael. Maddie is a divine soul sorcerer and probably the one Deah is closest to. Gael is our barbarian/paladin who is probably the emotional backbone of the group? He is very earnest and genuine, and also hits like a brick house.

What are your character’s core moral beliefs? [Brushes off notes I made like a year ago] Promises must be kept, and debts one day fulfilled. Clean up the messes you made. Family is more important than self. Survival means not letting the past define you. (Not all morals but those are her ideals)

What relationship does your character have with their parents and siblings? She has a twin brother, whom she would die for. Their relationship used to be solid, but theyve currently broken apart somewhat due to lies and building tension, and the brother needing to go his own way. She is still very broken up about it. Her parents are both dead, and she has not spoken of much closeness there, but describes them as "they tried their best." Her pirate captain was basically a surrogate father for her teenage years and onward until their separation, and she... misses him.

Does your character have any biases for or against certain races? Not really. She probably doesnt trust ratfolk based on where she grew up, but beyond that? If you're good, you're good.

What is your character’s opinion on nobility? On authority? (: fuck em. She is... shall we say... less inclined to help rich people.

Describe your character’s current appearance: clothes, armor, scars they’ve picked up along the journey, etc. She's grown out her undercut so she has an asymmetrical style, one side of her head buzzed. She is still wearing her bright red pirate coat, but now wears a dark brown vest with purple accents underneath, as well as a long black sleeve to cover magical scars she received when she accepted a warlock pact with the hunter god. Also covering her scars is a gauntlet made by Maddie, so that they can't be detected by Detect Good and Evil and such.

What location encountered in the campaign has your character felt the most “at home” in, or just generally liked the most? Sometimes she still thinks about that nap she had on the beach at a random island they had stopped at to restock on food.

What deity, if any, does your character worship? What’s their opinion on other people’s worship? As i mentioned, she has a pact with the hunter god, Erastil. She does not worship him. In fact, she rather doesnt like gods much. She doesnt really understand other worshippers, but if they're not hurting anyone with it she doesn't really care. Their worship doesnt affect her.

If your character had time to pick up any artisan’s tools, game set, instrument, etc., what would it be? Let's get this binch some navigator's tools finally!

Describe your character’s current relationship with the player character sitting to your right. We are entirely online so we don't really have table seating. Based on the order of our nicknames in discord though, that would be... Haru, our new kitsune Oracle who joined us to fill a gap while some other players went on hiatus. Deah is uncertain about him, and she is generally pretty wary about strangers in her party, but he is useful. Their relationship is not deep by any means tbh.

What is your character’s current goal, summed up in one sentence? Stop the lord of the sea, and stop Aleksander.

Does your character ever want to “settle down” with a spouse, children, house, etc.? ;) you'll have to ask her

Has your character ever been in love? Before the campaign, certainly not. She's hella ace, and doesn't open up easily, so she's got some confusing feelings right now for Maddie ;)

What battle in the campaign has been most memorable to your character The battle against Tokt, since this was the battle that she was able to help save a person from being possessed by a demon -- something she figured out beforehand and convinced her team about.

If your character wasn’t whatever class they are, what would they be instead? I mean... probably a fighter???? Or maybe a full warlock, if she was desperate enough.

What is your character’s favorite season? Probably the fall? Sailing is usually good during that time, plus the harvest is coming in on land, so there's a lot of fresh food.

What would your character’s Zodiac sign be, following stereotypical astrology? She would be an Aries based on her birthday! Our homebrew world just uses "Season Day" as time markers, with 90 days each season. She was born on Spring 12, which would translate to the first week of April.

Where in the world does your character most want to visit? She's been all over as an adventurer and a sailor. The place she'd like to visit the most is one she doesn't know about -- somewhere important to her old captain.

What is the biggest mistake your character has ever made? Deah would maybe even say joining the pirates. It was the happiest she'd ever been, but it led her brother to a path he regrets and feels pain over, and she feels a... bit guilty about that.

Does your character have any noticeable scars? If so, what are their stories? The only scars she has are from her pact to Erastil. She hides them, though. She's not ashamed of them, but she likes to keep them to herself... she's private like that.

What animal best represents your character? I always liken her to a hawk, especially a sea hawk. In some ways she’s like a cobra or a porcupine too -- kind of hard to get close to!

If your character could go back in time and change one thing about their life, what would it be? 😬

Which other player character does your character find themselves having the most in common with? I don't know about most in common, really, but she gets along easiest with Ro, our halfling. Their banter is 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻. Honestly though? She probably has the most in common with Mercy, our tiefling fighter/paladin.

Does your character regret any particular choice the party has made? She probably regrets the party not staying behind in a certain town after a powerful enemy escaped. They thought the immediate threat had been dealt with and that another team from their guild could keep watch over the town, but then that team got surprised by an undead and two of them died. She feels at least partially responsible for that.

What would your character say their best trait would be? Her ability to perceive and track things. She has the observant feat plus the invocation that lets her see through even magical darkness!

What is your character’s greatest fear? Deep, irrational? Being abandoned.

What is currently motivating your character to stay with the party? No where else to go, really. Like, sure, she likes at least most of them and they've been through a lot!!! And she DOES you know, feel like this is a stable job, and she does feel good helping people. But... she really does have no where else to go. :(

What are your character’s hobbies and interests outside of their class? She does enjoy reading, though she's a little slow. Her favorite books are detective/mystery novels! She also sometimes likes to practice magic tricks (like... sleight of hand stuff). And technically this isnt outside of her class, but she really does enjoy training. Let's her burn off steam.

What would most people think when they first see your character? Pretty little waif, but that resting bitch face looks like she will cut me of I even say hello (this is by design).

What stereotypical group role does your character play in the party? (The Mom, the Mess, the Comic Relief, etc. Optionally: What role would your character play in the “Five Man Band” structure?) [Googles five man band] probably Lancer. Initially she wanted to be the Leader type but with the group dynamics and her own insecurities and issues, that isnt really truly possible for her. But she still tries to lead...

What is your character the most insecure about? :)

What person does your character admire most? Her old ship captain. Her DEAD ship captain :(

What does your character admire and dislike the most about the player character sitting to your left? She admires maddie's strength and kindness (and to a degree, innocence). Maddie's cooking skills. Maddie's family. She dislikes how nervous/anxious and possibly depressed Maddie can get :c

Why is your character’s lowest stat their lowest (the in-character reason, not “because there’s no reason for a wizard to have 16 strength, duh”)? Her lowest stat is strength, and her second lowest is constitution. This is because she grew up poor, and was at times starving and definitely malnourished. Once she was om the pirate ship, she was regularly fed though.

What would be your character’s theme song/favorite band/favorite genre of music? I've been saying if she was in modern time, her favorite band would be Florence and the Machine. There's just something about the Florence sound that speaks to her. She'd definitely be into that kind of music, plus some heavier stuff leaning more towards metal or symphonic metal...

What stereotypical role would your character play in a high school AU/if they attended a normal high school? (Nerd, jock, bully, goth, etc.) She's got the soul of a goth but the hobbies of a jock (in our team's college AU she's totally on the fencing and sailing teams). When I've drawn her in modern day she is usually wearing athleisure (capris leggings, loose tank top, sports bra, e.g.) but also it's mostly dark colors. She's Joth.

What treasure/item/artifact that your character has collected during the adventure is the most important to them? Toby :) just kidding, the pseudodragon isn't an item!!! Specifically collected during the adventure, probably her force blade. Her brother had found it, but had given it to her, near the beginning of the adventure.

Is there any particular weapon, item, etc. that your character longs to find? She's not really looking out for items, no.

Where does your character feel the most at home? On the beach, on the ship. Specific locations to call home, she does finally feel like she has a stable place to call home in the patty's estate.

Does your character care about how they’re perceived by others? How do they change themselves to fit in with other people? She's worn disguises and fake names before, but that's mostly to protect herself during her pirate years. She doesn't care a whole lot, but she does want to appear somewhat intimidating so that unsavoury people won't approach her LMAO. But she also wants to be seen as nice by children and poor folk, so she does soften a bit when they're around.

What does your character think is the true meaning of life? Happiness. Safety. Survival. Family/community.

What is your character’s scent? (Bonus points for a description that sounds like it could be from a bad [or awesome] fanfic.) She's always got a slight scent of salt on her, reminding you just a bit of the sea. For herself, she prefers to just smell... clean, so there's a fresher floral scent lingering...

Does your character think more with their heart or their brain? She tries to think more with her brain but sometimes the bottled up emotions get to be a bit much.

What is your character’s most recent or frequent nightmare? BEING. ABANDONED.

What opinion does your character have on [CERTAIN ESTABLISHED GROUPS/AUTHORITIES IN THE GAME WORLD]? (Dragonmarked Houses, royal crown, etc.) She hates (most) rich people and used to be a pirate, so you can kind of figure it out.

How did your character spend their childhood? Where did they grow up/who were their childhood friends? :(

What aspect of your character’s future are they most curious about? (If they could know one thing about the future, what would it be?) I dunno man she is just taking things one step at a time.

What colors are associated with your character? Red is her primary color. She also uses blacks/dark grays and a light purple as an accent. She's using more brown now tho to represent her connection to the hunter god.

Who in the party would your character prioritize rescuing, in dire circumstances? Maddie always. Then Ro. Then Gael. Haru would probably be up there because he is squishy and also mostly blind.

Is your character the most swayed by ethos, pathos, or logos? A mix of pathos and logos is most effective on Deah. Logos probably most of all, but there are pathos buttons that hold away above all that... if you know which buttons to press.

If your character was granted a single use of Wish, what would they use it for? Currently? To bring back her pirate captain. She knows its selfish but...

What is your character’s favorite spell? If they don’t use spells: what is their favorite personal weapon/combat maneuver/skill/etc.? Her favorite spell is stab with rapier.

How does your character feel about keeping secrets from the rest of the party? She keeps secrets pretty regularly! Basically if the party needs to know, then the secret should be shared. But if it doesnt really affect the group or something important, and the person doesnt want to share, then go ahead and keep the secret.

What type of creature in the world is your character the most intrigued by? Dragons probably, at this point. Definitely an influence by me the player, haha, but it's buoyed by an early meeting with a particular dragon that sparked her interest.

When they were a child, what did your character want to be, or think they were going to be, when they grew up?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ she didnt have life plans as a kid. She just wanted her and her brother to live.

The player character to your left admits that they’re passionately in love with your character. How would your character respond? That's already happened LMAO. Deah didnt know how to react so her brain blur screened and she ran away from the situation for a bit.

If somebody (an NPC, someone from their backstory, etc.) your character trusts/loves asked your character to do something against the party’s best interest, who would they side with? If it only involved herself, Deah would probably go do it. But if it was a huge net loss for the group, she wouldn't, if that makes sense? It's hard to make sweeping statements like that.

Does your character value their own best interest more than the party’s? She values her own interest for sure, but she would prioritize the party's if one meant dunking on the other. She knows what it's like to sail with a tight knit crew; sometimes you sacrifice to make the group as a whole better/happier.

What decision would the party have to make in order for your character to consider splitting off from the group? Oh gosh, uh.... I mean, if they decide to help her enemies (not likely to happen, there are a couple shared ones). If they don't let her do something she REALLY wants... I can't really think of anything specific.

How does your character imagine the way they will die? Tragically. 

What is your character’s greatest achievement? Taming her pseudodragon ;w;

Is your character willing to risk the well-being of others in order to achieve their goal? Hmm... not to a certain degree. Eh, probably not. She only really wants to risk herself, not others. Risking others doesn't give them the choice.

What is your character’s opinion on killing others? She does it all the time!! But if they're defenseless or not fighting back, she won't.

What is your character’s favorite food? Beverage? She really loves fresh baked bread!! As for beverage, uh.... I guess she'd like water with like, something fruity mixed in???

How generous is your character? Especially to those they don’t know? To the poor and to kids? Very. Also, recently, she gave all of the money she got from a quest to a townsperson to help them rebuild their city a bit (secretly of course. Not even her team knows she did that, though maybe some of them suspect hahaha)

What is your character the most envious about, regarding anyone in the party? Once again... probably most envious of Maddie!! She comes up a lot doesn't she ;P

The player character to your left and the player character to your right are both telling your character two different versions of the truth. Who does your character believe? Maddie vs Haru? Shed probably lean towards Maddie :p

What is your character’s sexuality/relationship with sex? I've described Deah as Panromantic Asexual. She is rather sex averse and has difficulty pinpointing romantic feelings as well, being rather prickly at times.

What is your character’s biggest pet peeve? When people try to dig into something she doesn't want to share at the moment.

Describe how your character feels about the party’s current situation/objective/etc. The current objective/situation involves her backstory, so you'll see soon ;)

Who in the party would your character trust the most to keep an important secret? Maddie of course! She trusts Gael, but not with secrets. Similarly, she trusts Mercy to hold an oath to the best of her ability, but not if a secret comes up -- same with Rudi. Ro does what she wants LMAO and she isnt telling Haru anything personal atm.

If your character knew that they were going to die in a month, how would they spend the rest of their life? I dont want to think about that question and neither does Deah

What makes your character feel safe? Having her weapons. Having her pact/her pact scars.

If your character had the chance to rename the party/give the party a name, no questions asked, what would it be? Nah, she likes Fortune's Blades

What memory does your character want to forget the most? Cal leaving. It's probably her most painful memory.

If your character had to multiclass into a class they currently aren’t the next time they level up, what would it be and what reason would they have for doing so? She's already multi classed and her reasons for becoming a warlock are kind of muddied. She explained them initially but maaaaybe wasn't 100% truthful. If she had to pick a third, probably uh.... fighter?????

What television/book/video game/etc. character would your character be best friends with? (Or: what media character is your character the most influenced by/similar to?) I would HOPE she would be friends with Elizabeth Swan (: but idk lol

What unusual talents does your character possess? Sharp senses and magic tricks.

How does your character feel about receiving/giving orders? Are they more of a leader, or a follower? It's rather situational. She tries to be a leader type, but she also realizes she's not at the top of the leader chain (and, with her party, at times different people take the head, so it's almost more consult-y like).

What does your character’s name represent to them? (Or: why as a player did you choose your character’s name?) The player of Cal, her brother, chose his name first from a generator. I like to construct my names sometimes from different name elements, so I made hers to match the sound of her twin's (that is, make it sound like it came from the same language). Her name is constructed of "Feld-" (field) and "-Deah" (dye) so her first name translates roughly to "field of dye." Her original last name is Shearwater, which is a real life sea bird but also follows the traditional elven naming convention (their dad was an elf). She never felt much of an attachment to her last name. She recently changed her last name to Blackheart, which was the moniker of her captain.

Is your character more of an introvert, or an extrovert? Introvert for sure

How far is your character willing to go to pursue the “greater good”? Do they believe in a greater good at all? She would go as far as she needs to, but would never force others to make that same decision.

What does your character want to be remembered by? At one point she thought she would eventually be a famous pirate captain. But mostly I think she just wants to be remembered by those who love her and by those she helped...

What would be your character’s major in college? Fuck, uh... I had discussed this before.... I think I made her pre-law??? Math major???

Does your character consider themselves a hero, villain, or something else? Something else. She doesn't really care about that, she's just Being.

What major arcana tarot card best represents your character? I believe last it was discussed I had picked the Chariot for her.

Where does your character see themselves in 20 years? If not dead from adventuring, then settled somewhere nice, hopefully...

What is your character’s relationship with magic? Are they scared of it, wish to know more about it, indifferent to it? For a long time she was the Sokka of the group, the only non-magic user. Then she got her pact. She's still kind of awkward about it, and at times really doesn't like magic, but she sees it as a tool. A means to an end.

Who is your character’s biggest rival? Rival?????? I guess Morrigan tbh??? Cuz a rival isn't an enemy, and she had a thing going with Morrigan (her player is on hiatus tho). In some ways she rivals Mercy too. A dance of similarities and differences.

What is your character’s guiltiest pleasure? Fine, beautiful dresses. She doesn't own any, because it's a waste of money, but.... she wants them. Secretly.

What does your character hope for the afterlife? Peace and rest.

Who in the party does your character trust the least? Haru, currently, simply by virtue of being new.

What is your character’s biggest flaw? BIGGEST flaw???? Uhhhmmm..... Her secrecy probably. Her tendency to run away from really big, painful problems, to bottle up her emotions around that until everything just gets worse.

How did your character learn the languages that they speak? Common, prucrician and Elvish she learned just growing up. Deep, she just... mysteriously knows. Doesn't know why she can speak it. Draconic she learned at first from Rudi, and then from a dragonborn NPC to finish her lessons during a timeskip.

What is your character’s favorite school of magic/type of weaponry? Rapier

What is most important to your character: health, wealth, or happiness? Why must she choose? Wealth, because that brings health and happiness in her eyes. (Because money buys food and when you have food.....)

What advice would your character give to a younger version of themselves? I know it's hard, but open up more. You don't have to keep it to yourself to protect others. Your brother can be your friend as well... you don't have to just keep holding yourself back for your friends and family.

Are there any social or political issues your character feels strongly about? She doesn't feel super strongly about politics, having been a pirate. She feels strongly about protecting children and poor though, as I've mentioned.

What, currently, is your character the most curious about? The afterlife. Erastil, but specifically just that one god. Her ship captain.

[whitherliliesbloom]

💌 🍼 🌸 🎂 🕊️ for all!!!

Sweet and Pure asks [Accepting!]

YOU SPOIL ME IFNSIODF THANK YOU SO MUCH.

💌- diary or journal?

Answered here!

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

“Ah.. I can’t really pick one.. I um.. reminisce too much.. and I cherish all the memories I make, both the good and bad.

But... If I r-really had to choose.. Thinking back on how far everyone has come.. The very first meal we had after we defeated Emet-Selch... Not just our party, but with the scions too! There are many points in my life where I believed we were going to die... But with every battle, every step we take forward.. it just makes me more grateful that we’re still alive.. still here to fight the better fight.”

 🌸- what is your favorite flower?

Answered here!

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

“O-Oh.. W-well assuming that I can’t ask for more wishes...I would wish for an end to Garlean occupation in nations they’ve invaded.

My second wish.. I-I’d wish for any remaining ascians to stop their attempts at a rejoining! T-that may be selfish of me.. especially after... after I’ve learned much about their motives.. and why they would seek to destroy our star in order to restore their own.. B-but.. I-It is as Alphinaud said! Our lives... the memories we have of our homes.. It’s not any less important than the lives of the past that were lost!

O-Oh.. that got a little serious there.. but.. um.. I’d use my third wish.. to become stronger! Strong enough.. to be able to better protect others.. and be more useful. As I am now.. I’m just..n-n-not good enough.”

🕊️- 3 habits you have?

“A-ah.. Habits.. Um.. Well.. L-let’s see.. I tend to.. avoid crowds..? I-I have a habit of writing in my journal whenever I get a new task and... Um.. I-I visit the twin adders barracks a lot.”

// Illya’s never gonna tell you her actual body language / habits she uses to cover up her feelings.. so I have to. She avoids eye contact when she’s hiding something, typically by turning her head away or tilting her head down so her eyes are covered by the shadow cast by her bangs. Another bad habit she has is skipping meals, especially if she feels like she doesn’t have enough time in the day. Thirdly, she clenches her fist a lot when she’s angry or upset, bonus if she clenches a part of her clothing or holds her fist against her chest.

💌- diary or journal?

“I don’t really have either.. though maybe I should keep a journal after everyone’s tellin’ me how forgetful I am. Just seems like a pain in the ass havin’ to write every little detail in some grimy book wherever ya go.

A diary may be fun though. I just gotta write what I’m feelin’ into it and stuff, right? ‘Dear diary, slayed another primal today, wish I had some ale right now’. Hmm.. sounds kinda boring.”

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

“Our fight with Gaius made me realize there’s an adventurer in me that I never thought was there before. Before then, I was just doin’ this adventurin’ thing for the money.. and not really cause there was any other option either. Hunt or be hunted.. that sorta thing. Never considered myself the heroic type either..

But beatin’ the livin’ crap outta Gaius and that stinkin’ Ultima toy of his, and gettin’ to have Thancred’s thanks for freeing him from ascian control.. heh, it felt... fulfilling. Bein’ called a hero is fulfillin’. But I knew I’d have died if it weren’t for the others bein’ there with me as a team. I realized then that I liked em, and that I wanted to continue fightin’ by their side.”

🌸- what is your favorite flower?

“I’m not the sort that pays a ton of attention to flowers. You askin’ for Illya or somethin’? If I had to pick.. maybe somethin’ like Chrysanthemums? They’re the best for brewin’ tea after all, right?”

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

“Oh man! What wouldn’t I wish for?? Lots of money? Lotsa cute girls surroundin’ me? Gettin’ Laurelis to always make her dance partner for that sweet damage boost...? Actually forget that last one, I ain’t stingy. I share my buffs with my bro with the big magic damage too, he deserves it.

Hm? Oh, yeah I guess and world peace, or whatever.. As if this kinda three wishes thing will ever come true, though.”

🕊️- 3 habits you have?

“The pals say I have a bad habit of talkin’ in my sleep but I don’t know if that’s true. Do I look like the sorta guy who’d do that? Ahh.. Also non-bards out there probably can’t relate.. but I flex my fingers a lot durin’ down times. Hey, grippin’ a bowstring for hours on the field ain’t a joke. Takes a lot of strength outta your arms, and especially cramps up your fingers, even for a pro like me!

Oh right! I was told I laugh too loudly too! But ain’t my fault that my voice’s just trained to be bold like that! I’m a goddamn bard!”

💌- diary or journal?

“I keep a journal of my daily routines and tabs on scores I have left to settle.”

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

“Favorite memory? That’d be.. when I saw the old man smiling so warmly up at me for the first time in twelve summers, I suppose. And I owe that smile to Illya. This debt’s the only reason why I joined them, and I’d rather not elaborate much else on that.”

// To elaborate: his clan got into a heap of trouble. Illya and Laurelis meet him for the first time after hearing that the elder of the clan, Sigfred’s grandfather needed help to fight off a rival father. The elder is caught and nearly dies, but Illya saves him and even risks her own life to supply enough aether to sustain him. Before then, Sigfred was a bit of a jerk towards her. Since then however, he feels indebted to her and thus agreed to join the two and the scions after they learn he possesses the echo too. Of all the members of the Warriors of Light squad, he has the softest spot for Illya and never yells at her.

🌸- what is your favorite flower?

“Don’t have any. Do succulents count? They’re low maintenance.”

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

“Sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?”

// Hardass will never tell you that he’d just need one wish, which is for everyone he loves and cares about to be safe and never be in sort of danger ever again. He wouldn’t bother with the other two wishes. Even if it means he has to be the sole person left to fight.

🕊️- 3 habits you have?

“....Tch. I guess I’m as they say - too ill-tempered and brash. Think I accidentally swore in front of a bunch of kids too, but it wasn’t on purpose. I’m not afraid to admit I’m a little too reliant on caffeine.”

💌- diary or journal?

“GUAHAHA! Foolish mortal.. you aim to peer into the mind of a tyrant lord?? The chaos that rages in my mind.. is not one any weak minds can hope to comprehend or understand! That one would think I’d be naive enough to pen my thoughts down into physical letters... HAH!”

🍼- what is your favorite memory?

“Twas many millenias ago that the almighty god of chaos before you conquered the very depths of hell and all of the underworld’s secret magicks! Hellfire rained, tundras roared! Not even the ruins of carteneau could hope to match the anarchy I left in the wake of my conquest!!”

// Real answer: When the squad finally drove the garleans out of doma. It was at that time he felt for the first time in years that he finally got closure on his painful past and moved on to a new family. It was also the first time he’s ever shown his true personality in front of them.

🌸- what is your favorite flower?

“Why, nothing symbolizes death and darkness better than the spider lily does it not?! I dare say the hues of its petals burn as red as the wrath I hold in my heart.”

🎂- if you had 3 wishes, what would they be?

“DEATH TO THE WORLD! THAT RUINATION BEFALL THIS WRETCHED EARTH! FOR ARMAGEDDON!”

// He’d wish for his family to be brought back to life, for the damage done to doma to be undone and for zenos’ death. Of all my OCs, Heisuke has the biggest personal grudge against the garleans, and it’s all funneled to zenos for being an extra big pain in the ass especially of all people. There’s also the fact that he genuinely believes Zenos dying would make the world a much better place.

🕊️- 3 habits you have?

“NONE! Ask not such impudent questions to the lord of tyrants ever again, mortal!”

// Heisuke’s biggest habit is being the biggest liar of any of my OCs, even more than Illya. He’s a natural at acting, even for roles he doesn’t necessarily want to do. Other things he does is hide his face behind a hood, partly for the same reason as Illya in which to hide his emotions, but partly also because it looks cool. Third habit’s that he sometimes bites his lips so hard when he’s angry that it starts to bleed.

[emmettspeakz]

Strike headcanons

Compiled by me and @g-ay-gatsby <3

Bisexuals: Dangerously adorable

Richie: you right, you right

Eddie: hell yeah he’s dangerous adorable

Eddie: but, well, mostly he’s just adorable and he thinks he’s dangerous

Stan: who are we talking about? Bill? Mike?

Richie: no you other boyfriend

Stan: Eddie?

Eddie, Bill, Mike: *blushing*

Richie: ….

Stan just being like “I love my boyfriend!!

Eddie, Mike, Bill, Richie at once: Which one?

Stan: *A HUGE BLUSHING MESS*

Eddie and Richie are making out on one side of the couch, Mike and Bill are making out on the other side and Stan is just sitting in the middle BEAMING with HAPPINESS because his boyfriends are so good and he appreciates them so much but also is fine with not making out with them most of the time just being there is good

-Stan is just holding Bil and Richie’s hands in the middle and sighing contentedly 

Richie: did you want a turn at some point stan?

Stan: nah it’s okay I just wanna hold your hand for now

Richie: alright stan lemme know how you’re doing *returns to eddie*

Stan and Richie cuddles with Edie next to Richie at the end o the couch, Mike at the other end of the couch and Bil has his head resting on Stan’s lap and Stan is just BEAMING and blushing so hard cuz he’s soo happy

Richie totally calls him stan the man at the worst possible time and he rolls his eyes/blushes so the other 3 do it as well

Easily embarrassed!Stanley Uris; he’s embarrassed no matter what they call hiM

Protective!Bill Denbrough is canon

Stan decides to try to join in a bit and is kissing bill or something and richie walks in and goes “stan the man! Feeling brave today” but not in a mean way he knows it’s okay and respects stan’s boundaries and stan just gapes at him with his mouth wide open

Bill: Shut up richie

Overusing pet names for stan

Richie: don’t be a ucking pussy stan!

Bill: BEEP BEEP RICHIE!!!

Richie: I was just jok--

Bill: DID I FUCKING STUTTER?!

All of them are so respectful of his sexuality and take it easy and slow with him and never push him. Richie is the one who always talks him through everything and explains stuff to him. But bill is the one that gets SO ANGRY if anyone says SHIT about his beautiful ace boyfriend

Richie teases him but only in a soft, richie way where stan knows it’s light hearted and all in good fun

Mike is more quiet about it. Never initiates anything with stan cause he’s scared to do something wrong

Mike is super protective of Bill though, especially about his stutter

Stan and mike just at the library casually holding hands and reading books cuz stan is too shy to ask him to kiss or do anything remotely sexual

Asexual spectrum! Mike Hanlon - demisexual? Shy!Mike

Mike is comfortable with Bill and they’ve figured out what works for both of them, for the other 3 he’s more...not scared just less confident in what he should be doing

Mike i could see as being someone else along with Stan maybe even Bill if he has needs to be more sexual. But he assures stan that he’s enough and is pure and loving

Bill reassures Mike that he’s safe with all 4 o them no matter what and he talks him through what to do

Reddie is just going at it, as they do, stan is smiling, watching, loving life. Bill joins in and they’re used to mike sorta being nervous and bill just whispering something in his ear and mike turns red but agrees cause he trusts bill

Mike isn’t as comfortable with himself around Richie and Eddie. Might be a bit more distant from them cuz they’re always connected at the hips so it takes time for him to loosen up

Bill being secretly kinky with mike

Bill and mike go off to be sexual and stan is just like “what do i do now?” and richie and eddie cuddle him and watch a movie until he falls asleep

Since mike is so safe with bill he tries new things sometimes and explores his comfort zone but that’s ONLY WITH BILL, with the rest of them he stays with what he knows is okay

Mike doesn’t like that the others know they’re specifically leaving to be sexual so he asks bill to make an excuse every time and it gets more and more ridiculous - but mike asks him to do it every time even though he knows that they know what’s goin on and he knows that he won’t be judged

-“We’re gonna go watch paint dry”

“We’re off to destroy the patriarchy!”

Richie: destroy the patriarchy...alone in your bedroom?

Eddie slaps him

Stan is still just beaming

Mike: yeah, toxic masculinity and all that. Come ON Bill and he makes *that* face

Bill’s just like “s-sorry stan” and Stan acts like he’s okay but he’s clearly feeling insecure and Eddie and Richie cuddle him on either side and make him feel happy again

Stan is often super uncomfortable with it but every once in a while he’ll talk to eddie about stuff. Cause he knows eddie is co comfortable with sex and stuff, and he won’t joke around like richie. So he just asks him specific questions about things without being judged and then eddie hugs him so hard 

*richie walks in and sees them hugging* hey, why wasn’t I invited?

Eddie and stan are best friends and boyfriends like they could easily come off as just friends to other people except eddie will hold his hand in public and be super lowkey flirty

Eddie: it’s eds’ turn rich

Stan: quit interrupting tozier

Mike and stan being super jokingly sexual cause they know neither person is really interested in being sexual with the other

Mike only wants to have sex with bill and stan just wants to be soft and hold hands so they overdo it 

“Wanna go strip off out clothes off and go skinny dipping?”

“Pfft as if!”

Mike would be more shy but stan would totally start picking up on sexual jokes from spending too much time with richie

Stan being super uncomfy with naked boys’ bodies at first like having a pool party and them being shirtless he’s like “what do i do”

And one day he makes a super inappropriate joke in front of bev and she’s like ….what?

STAN never gets over seeing his boyfriend change and stuff, like eds changes his shirt in front of him and he just blushes

Ben is like “when did you turn into richie?”

Richie: *pretending to wipe away a tear* i taught him everything he knows

Eddie: that’s not something to brag about trashmouth

Richie takes of his shirt and he’s just like “want a taste?” and stan just goes “i’m not even gonna attempt to beep you. You know what you did.”

Eddie teaches stan about sexual things, bill teaches him about finding a comfort zone and richie fully just gives him lessons and talking dirty

“So stan when you flirt with a girl--”

“I’m gay.”

“Right”

“In case you forgot you’re also gay”

“Oh shit, is that why i have four boyfriends?”

“You’re beautiful mike. You know who else is beautiful?”

“Who?”

Stan: “literally all of you. Fuck all of you for being pretty.”

Richie: i didn’t think you were into that

Bill: shut up richie

Stan is attracted to all of them but mostly romantically. So one day reddie are just being so damn cute and telling each other how much they love each other and how attractive the other is and what they wanna do to each other

Eddie: gosh your lips are beautiful richie i just wanna--

Stan: but you know what’s more important? You have a BEAUTIFUL PERSONALITY

Richie: yeah that’s great thanks stan but can we get back to what we’re gonna do with our lips?

They’re planning the next time they’re all gonna meet up and stan, being an ace stereotype occasionally offers to bring snacks

Richie is like  “I NEED ALL THE SHOTS”

Mike’s like: oh fuck yeah stan brings the best snacks

Stan to richie: you strip when you drink please don’t

Richie snorts

Eddie: *under his breath* please do

 mike is like “NO I LITERALLY MEAN SNACKS. I JUST WANT PRETZELS.”

Stan: i’m just gonna go get some snacks. Y’al fucking behave

Mike: i’ll help

-JUST GIVE MIKE HANLON HIS PRETZELS 2K19

-Bill: i guess i’ll help too (* is so attached to his baby*)

-And, oh shit, they left reddie alone again

-They come back and reddie are making out on the couch, of course

-Stan is holding both Bill and Mike’s hands so it’s hard for them to bring the snacks but stan doesn’t want them to let go

-Bill is organizing, richie is in charge of alcohol, mike and stan bring snacks, and eds is responsible and brings protection 

Stan has to be holding someone’s hand at all times, otherwise he gets all nervous

Richie: a condom? What’s this for?

Eddie: so you don’t--

Stan: So i don’t get tozier diseases

-Richie has cooties

Richie slicks his hair back, fingers guns out* you already got em baby

Stan is holding richie’s hand while richie and eddie are about to have sex and richie just goes, “hey uh stan do you think you could hold bill’s hand for a bit?”

“Sure, why?”

“I think i’m gonna need both hands for this”

*eddie giggling*

Stan: BEEP BEEP RICHIE

Mike and Bill: we were about to ask you the same thing

Stan: *not having it* Y’all need to leave

Stan can go hold ben’s hand cause he doesn’t stand for any toxic masculinity around here

Bev is like “you can hold my hand” and ben’s like “hey that’s my job”

They joke about ben being the only one they haven’t taken and ben jokes along with them and bev rolls her eyes

“Why don’t you join them already?”

Bev doesn’t care if they joke cuz she just KNOWS ben loves her and ONLY HER

So there’s just moans being heard from all over upstairs and stan just goes “so how’s life you guys?” to ben and beverly

Stan is super red but they don’t point it out

Bill and stan makeout sessions are the ultimate soft fest - Those are the only times stan moans cuz he’s enjoying stuff

Stan and Richie have a neck THING

Richie thinks stan’s moans are the cutest thing and has to hide his arousal coming into the room with bill making out with him

Bill: “Do you mind tozier?”

R: nope not one bit

B: get the fuck out richie

Richie just goes and kisses stan on the forehead

R: have fun you too *leaves*

Stan is at work and bill brings him lunch or something and kisses him on the cheek and stan is blushing like crazy of course and this happens a lot but also eddie comes by sometimes just to check in on him and in general he gets visits from his boyfriends and all of stan’s co-workers are getting confused

Make is panromantic? But homosexual

Co-worker A: omg stans boyfriend is so hot

Co-worker B: yeah i love his curly hair

Co-worker A: *meant bill and is so confused*

“Yeah i just met richie, he’s pretty funny.”

“I thought his name was Eddie.”

Bev drops stan off at work and kisses his forehead and just says something like “have a good day honey” cause she’s ultimate mon friend and everyone is just like?

Each co-worker only meets one boyfriend like the one who meets richie only knows richie, etc. 

“Stan, you straight now?”

“Ew, no, what would give you that idea?”

*co-worker gestures vaguely towards Beverly*

Co-workers somehow manage to always be in the room with the same boyfriend

AND THEN ONE DAY AT THE CHRISTMAS PARTY

Mike and Bill are holding hands talking to someone and she’s like, 

“Do one of you work here?” and at the same time they say

“Yeah my boyfriend does”

“Oh?”

Richie and eddie get there last

Random co-worker: there really seems to be a lot of gay couples here?

Stan: No just us I think *not realizing it looks like two separate couples plus stan*

Someone’s like: hey stan where’s your boyfriend?

Stan: they’re almost here I think

Then everyone assumes he has one boyfriend who uses they/them pronouns

Richie, Eddie, Bill, and Mike all basically line up and kiss Stan and every co-worker is thrown for a loop

One co-worker who always saw stan with eddie at work, then at the party they see stan holding mike’s hand and later they’re like “oh stan i’m so sorry to see you broke up with eddie!” and stan gets really worries that they heard eddie say something

He’s completely oblivious to the fact that not everyone is in a polyamorous relationship with four men, like he has no idea that anyone would be surprised by it

Stan is like “are we okay?” to eddie who’s like “yeah babe what’s wrong?” and consoles him

One co-worker who is down with everything, who is stan’s advisor just shakes his head and goes, “stan you’re a lucky man” and stan’s face turns TOMATO red

Jealous co-worker is just like “you have four men but I can’t even get one?? wtf??”

Stan: sucks to be you i guess

Richie: *pretending to tear up* i taught him how to do that. That’s my sassy boyfriend!!

Bill is hugging stan from behind and eddie is holding mike’s hand while richie is off being hilarious and making people fall in love with him by accident and then out of nowhere richie yells “SWITCH SHIFTS” and they very naturally switch to stan cuddling with richie, mike and bill being soft and cute and eddie is checking the food and pointing out what’s unsanitary to the poor people who happen to be at the food table

LIKE THEY’RE EMPLOYEES

[selfshippinglover]

~Hedcanon Tradeeee Part 1~

@spectralsapphic Let’s do this thing!

Desiree:

~Grants you wishes whenever and whatever with only the teensy charge of a kiss

~Prefers to be out in Amityville than in the Ghost Zone

~If anyone tries to make a move on her she’ll instantly say that she’s taken and attack

~Her ideal date is anywhere that’ll keep her free from the lam

~She’s possesed human forms all through the years, and though it can feel like she’s less tied to the lamp, she likes her body best

~A little envious of Embers singing despite she sings super good herself!

~You two often take turns in your vessel

~Is a fan of grand gestures but in private

~Smooches your hand A LOT

~Generally craves any form of physical interaction with you

Katniss:

~Hates showing affection in front of others but gets better at it in private

~Prefers to sleep in the same bed and cuddle(only at night tho)

~Speaking of sleep, she has a real hard time with it because of the games. Sometimes, you’ll find her asleep in weird places all over your house

~She teaches you how to be an archer

~You’re one of the only people that can calm her down tbh

~She’s not much of the jealous type but if someone asks, she’ll let them know

~Is always hoarding extra resources for you

~If you two get separated during the games, she worries for you the entire time and asks others if they’ve seen you

~Kisses on the forehead are her go to

~Her lips are dry though

~She stares at you and sometimes into you quite a bit

~Katniss always feared trusting others so it takes a while for her to open up to you 

~She is loyal and devoted, even at the cost of her own life

Effie:

~She wants to make you outfits all day everyday!

~Always quick to voice her concern and offer you a cheery smile

~Effie sews things for you when she’s not focused on the games

~She’s very easily flustered and her ace turns BEAT pink

~LOVES doing your hair, makeup, nails, and pretty much snything else she can get her hand on!

~Ya’ll read and cuddle a lot

~She finds it easy to give affection but harder to recieve it

~If you made her something, she’d TRESURE IT AND SHOW IT OFF FOREVER

~Secretly collects cutesy pink things and shows you each and every one

The Heathers:

~Hate sharing you but begrudgingly do so(in the beginning, at least)

~They gift you candy grams and flowers and whatever else every single school event

~They like to do matching uniforms

~They’re all very insecure but only confide in you because they fear either the others and/or everyone’s judgement

~KISSES GALORE

~Expect lots of movie dates and group sleepovers

~Lots of cuddling piles too!

~They’ll probably talk you into buying them things tbh

~If anyone ever hurts your feelings, they’ll be made into a social outcast SO FAST LIKE 

~Just don’t mess with their gf or it’s all over for you

Veronica:

~Has a lot of trust issues so it takes a bit for her to say anything to you

~Needs reassurance constantly

~Is easily triggered and will emoctionally shut down. This is when she needs comfort the most

~Prefers small things like holding hands or cheek kisses

~Isn’t likely to join you if you’re with a crowd. Instead, she’ll wait until you’re down talking

~Eats lunch with you everyday

~Will buy you small gifts when she can

~Ya’ll will be deep talking A LOT so be prepared

~Tries to keep you out of her problems by not saying anything

~Secretly wants to stay with you forever but would never say it

~Her view on love has been jaded, after all. 

~No matter the past or what she thinks, she truly does love you

~Just show her kindness and patience

Angelica:

~Let the flirting BEGIN

~Get ready to debate!!

~ya’ll frequent big parties and celebrations

~Secretly loves love songs and will sing them with you/when you’re not there

~One of the only people that can help her calm down when she’s pissed

~She’ll kick butt for you

~You trade love letters

~She wants to go on dates with you more than anything

~That said, quiet nights by the fire are great too!

~Teases you constantly

~KNOWS HOW TO DANCE SO WELL AND ALWAYS DIPS YOU

~Loves telling the world about you

~Expect to see her on tv at events

~always makes sure you’re okay with things

~Apologizes in the most sincere way

Eliza:

~SHE’S ABSOLUTELY HELPLESS

~ LIKE, SHE’S SO GAY AND MEGA FLUSTERED

~Anything you do can have her on cloud nine tbh

~Lives for cuddling with you

~speaks of you to friends ALL the time

~Drowns you in double the kisses at all times

~Nervous around you and constantly second guessing herself

~She shares her joys, hopes, and dreams with you

~Her face turns red like strawberries at the sight of you

~Writes you love letter after love letter!You’re gonna have drawers and drawrs pf em!

~Serenades you

~SHE’S JUST A USELESS GAY AND A GENERAL HOPELESS ROMANTIC

~Thinks about you all the time

~Can’t help but buy anything that reminds her of you

~Expect lots of gifts!!

~Isn’t the biggest fan of parties and would prefer a night in

~Daydreams about you to the point where she’s not in reality 

~Loves birds and cares for injured animals

~Her jealousy burns like a fire but is hidden under a smile

Peggy:

~Is loud about her love for you

~But cautious when it comes to crowds

~Just wants to chill in her bedroom together

~Likes to talk with you for hours

~Has a great soprano voice but only shares it with you and her sisters

~Is fond of hand holds and secret kisses through the window

~Is anxious to share you with her father at first 

~But her sisters wholeheartedly support you two

~You two shop together a lot

~Craves your attention lowkey all the time

~If she’s jealous, she’ll distance herself from you and become quiet

~She’ll keep you grounded

Maria:

~HIGH KEY WANTS YOUR ATTENTION 24/7

~Is depressed and requires assurance frequently

~Doesn’t care where or when, as long as it’s with you

~Beautiful singing voice that she doesn’t believe in much so it takes  a bit of encouragement to share it

~Sobs on your shoulder at any and all sad scenes in movies

~You’ll mores o be spending nights in though, sense she wants you all to herself

~Likes to help you with makeup and vice versa

~CUDDLES CUDDLES CUDDLES

~When it comes to your happiness, the only thing more important is her mental stability

~Spends days at a time with you

~Seriously, she hates being apart

~Always wants your opinion on things

~Wonders how she got to deserve someone as wonderful as you

~Only flusters at things like compliments

Jerafina:

~Flirts with you every time you meet up dhhjfgh

~Wants to drink and party with you as her eternal plus one

~Only has eyes for you regardless of how many girls she flirts with

~Loves to swim and impress you with her practiced moves

~holds your hand all the time

~Kisses you every time you part ways

~Tries to quit drinking so much for you

~Picks you up all kinds of trinkets

~Drunk cries on your shoulder and pretends i didn’t happen the next day

~Please help her face herself and problems

~She just needs you to stay with her, no matter what crazy thing she does

Tiff:

~Sings just for you

~Eyes always float to you in a crowd

~Not easily flustered but is when taken by surprise

~Definately does a cover of ‘Jenny” about you

~Vents to you on the daily

~Kisses your hand at random points

~She’s gonna make out with you a lot bro

~has very strong opinions and always want to hear yours

~Goes to you in the middle of the night

~Blatantly let’s people know ya’ll are dating

Candle Queen:

~If you don’t know Marina and the Diamonds, get ready to hear it anytime you drive around in her car/whenever she chooses the music

~Will do almost anything for your attention

~Demands yo buy things for her

~Puts on a fake face for everyone whilst trying to find herself when shes with you

~Always knows how you feel about things, whether you say so or not

~Likes to dress up for you

~Pouts at you when she knowingly causes trouble

~Writes you lots of songs in secret