#not the greatest writer

[venture4treasure]

“And if you leave me. Rest assured, it would kill me.”

Words: 1881

Premise: Yandere!Venture kills someone and you catch them. You respond in an atypical way. 

Warnings: Minor character death, Blood, Unhealthy relationship, Irresponsible use of prescription medication, Mental breakdown, Obsession 

“Venture~”, your voice sing-songs from outside your shared home. 

Venture freezes at the sound of your voice, you weren’t supposed to be back home tonight. They glance at the blood drying on the floor, mind racing on how to keep you from seeing it. 

You’re too quick to open the door, ecstatic about getting out of work early despite your scheduled overnight shift. The sight in front of you makes you freeze. Your kitchen floor has splatters of blood and streaks from where you can only assume a corpse was dragged. Your mind immediately jumps to the worst and you tighten your grip around the handle of the door.

“Venture?” You call out hesitantly, “if this is a joke, it’s sick and I mean that in a bad way”, you add when there’s no answer. 

After several beats of silence, you pull out your phone, prepare to leave and call the police. Your attempt is interrupted when the door is forcefully torn from your grip and slammed shut behind you. You feel yourself shoved against the door. You shut your eyes and duck your head from the impact. Your hands are pinned above you and your phone is pulled away. 

You anticipate something, anything to happen to you, but when nothing happens. You hesitantly open your eyes and look up. And you don’t know what feels worse, opening your door to a crime scene or seeing who the perpetrator is. 

“Sloan…” you manage to choke out. 

So many questions race in your mind – why did you, who did you… But the desperation and fright in their eyes sobers you. In your forced rationality, you observe that their hand is warm on your wrists, their grip means no harm. 

“I-”

You cut them off by pushing them away, they stumble a couple of steps back, looking at you with wide eyes. 

“Don’t say anything. We’re cleaning this up. Right now. Go get some hydrogen peroxide and gloves. And change into something you can throw away,” you force the words out, “do not say anything that makes me any more complicit”. 

Venture is stunned at your reaction. They’re slow to follow your instructions, prompting you to ask more, “no bleach, that’ll only make things messier. We’ll refloor all of this tomorrow anyway. Do you have animal blood?”  

They shake their head, and you shoo them off to get what you told them to as you step around the kitchen to assess what needs to be done. You’re careful to avoid making the mess worse by tracking any more blood around. The mess is bad, it is a lot of blood, and it makes you think someone must've bled out. Part of you wonders if any of it is Venture’s, you hope not. You shake yourself, you don’t want to dwell on the thoughts of why it’s so bad. Your only task at hand is to clean it up, you remind yourself. 

After double-checking you won’t trail any mess around the house, you take your own advice and go to get changed into some clothes you won’t miss. You also force yourself to take two extra pills for your anxiety – double your prescription – to keep yourself grounded. 

You meet Venture in the kitchen again and help set up several trash bags. You instruct them to help you soak up the bulk of the blood in towels and throw it away. When it’s done, you show them how to clean up the rest of the blood and explain to them how hydrogen peroxide will destroy the traceable genetic material. You try to explain everything you can if only to fill the silence and to keep your mind busy. When the reality sets in a little more, you feel sick talking – you were quite literally talking about how to get away with murder. You put on a playlist to help with the silence instead.

Venture doesn’t say anything when you talk. And definitely doesn’t say anything when you stop. They’ve never seen you act like this, they never would have thought this would be a possible outcome. They’re scared anything they say will make you react poorly, so they choose to maintain the current equilibrium you’ve set. 

Eventually, when everything looks clean and normal you finally give the okay to take a break. 

“You should shower and sleep,” you say, going through the motions of brewing some instant coffee. You wanted the caffeine and you probably weren’t going to sleep anyway. 

“I promise I’m not planning to do anything while you sleep. But you’re going to help me with moving flooring tomorrow and you’re going to need the rest,” you insist, tapping your hand on their shoulder. 

Your contact makes them startle. They want to hold you and tell you how much they love you. They want to explain how this was for you. They were only doing what was best for you. They wanted to tell you how they knew you’d never see it that way and that’s why you were never meant to see them do this. But instead, they swallow the bitter reality and do as you say. If you were willing to help them this much, then they should keep their complaints to themselves. 

You note that Venture is resting on the couch in the living room, and for a moment it does cross your mind that if you wanted to call for help, now would be the time. Any other time, Venture easily overpowers you. But it’s also the first time calling the authorities has crossed your mind since you came home. The idea makes you nervous and you turn your phone face down on the counter as if to reject the possibility of doing that. You finish your coffee and start another pot of water before heading up to shower and change. 

You spend the rest of the night until morning, re-scrubbing the floor and cleaning anything you can. You know that you don’t have to at this point, you’re fairly confident you got everything done the first time around, but you needed to do something to stave off the looming anxiety. Your body aches from being on the floor and cleaning so much, but you just take an ibuprofen and ignore it. 

Venture, thankfully, wakes by themselves and saves you the mental distress of figuring out how to approach them. They follow you around for a bit like a lost puppy and it makes it really hard for you to not embrace them – but you know if you do, you’ll break and you can’t afford that. 

The drive to and back from the store is relatively uneventful. You explained the plan, and Venture did as told. The whole time you could feel them look at you for some reaction, but you ignored it. 

The two of you spent the rest of the day tearing up the floor and replacing it. It was mostly Venture and you helped where you could, you didn’t have the strength to match theirs on a good day, much less when you’ve pulled an all-nighter and barely eaten anything. 

The project is done by late afternoon. You were hoping to finish by noon, but at least it’s over now – and you probably didn’t contribute too much anyway. 

You take a long shower and pick something comfortable to wear. When you are done, you call out for Venture to do the same. Who, like everything else you’ve said these past two days, follows.

You collapse on the couch, and the give of the cushions is a relief your aching body needs. The thought of taking some more ibuprofen crosses your mind, but the idea that you’d have to get up deters you greatly. 

Venture eventually finishes their shower and slowly creeps into the living room as if to not scare you. They settle on the carpeted floor some distance in front of you. They’re looking at you the whole time, there’s a desperate desire in their eyes. Both of you can feel how fragile the atmosphere is. If you had any energy left to spare, you’d notice how uncomfortable it was that your constantly chattering partner had been silent for almost a whole day, not a single joke shared. Instead, you take note of how their usually fluffy hair is soaking wet, and barely dry. 

To your body’s protest, you force yourself off the couch to close the distance. You pull your towel off your shoulders and drape it over Venture’s head. You use it to dry their hair, gently patting their hair and running your hand through clumps you’re afraid will tangle. Venture lets you do this, all but melting into your touch. Their breaths are slow and relaxed for the first time since you got home. You take more time and care than needed to dry their hair, but the action just felt so domestic and right. And you couldn’t let the feeling go.

When you’re done, you take your time folding the towel neatly, taking care to not maintain eye contact with Venture. They stare at you with a sadness that you know would break your heart if you acknowledged it. 

“Let me explain-”

“Sloan,” they flinch at their real name being used and the sternness of your voice, “I have done so much for you, please do not repay me by saddling me with information that makes me any more guilty than I already am”. 

Your head is still dipped in a way where you won’t meet their eyes, you wring your hands together anxiously, unsure what to say. 

Venture saves you from the silence, “okay,” they pause, “do you want anything? Tea or food… dessert?” And darkly, they consider their options of drugging you and getting you away from here. Maybe to some place where they could do everything best for you. 

You shake your head. 

“Do you hate me?” Venture’s voice cracks at the end, they’re not ready for the possibility of being rejected.

“No- never,” you exclaim in shock, looking up at them for the first time, “I trust your judgment. I trust you. Because I love you”. You confess, stomping down the part of your brain that tries to add ‘a little too much’.

Venture lets out a breath they were holding and almost collapses in relief. Thank god. You still love them. It’s okay, everything is fine as long as you are theirs. 

“Do you need some space,” Venture tentatively offers, they don’t really want to leave, but they want to do something right by you. 

“No,” you choke out, “no, please don’t leave”.

You reach out to wrap your arms around their neck and pull yourself against them, they hesitantly return the embrace, holding you tighter when you don't react negatively to their touch. 

“I think my meds are wearing off,” you’re breathing hard, “it’s all too much to think about. And everything hurts”.

Venture comfortingly traces shapes on your back, letting you cry into their neck as sobs wrack your form and you dig your nails into their back to anchor yourself.

“Don’t go, don’t go, please don’t leave me alone,” you beg.

Venture leans their head against you and pulls you into their lap to hold you closer. 

“I’ll never leave you, mi vida”. 

Author’s Note: I saw some yandere Venture art and fics here. It inspired me to write about Venture killing someone because of their significant other – be it out of jealousy, possessiveness, or defense. 

This probably doesn’t fall under the typical yandere type stories, but I still consider it yandere because I think in the end, Venture doesn’t regret killing for you, they regret getting caught by you. 

For it’s worth, Venture probably orders you your favourite takeout and drink when you start to wake up so you can have something nice to eat since you haven’t eaten in over a day. 

I don’t think I’ll mention this always, but it should be obvious that both the reader and Venture here are not sound of mind. 

Quote is from Oleander by Mother Mother. Oleander is a toxic plant, it is sometimes used to symbolize desire, destiny, everlasting love, and caution.

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

the fact that shakespeare was a playwright is sometimes so funny to me. just the concept of the "greatest writer of the English language" being a random 450-year-old entertainer, a 16th cent pop cultural sensation (thanks in large part to puns & dirty jokes & verbiage & a long-running appeal to commoners). and his work was made to be watched not read, but in the classroom teachers just hand us his scripts and say "that's literature"

just...imagine it's 2450 A.D. and English Lit students are regularly going into 100k debt writing postdoc theses on The Simpsons screenplays. the original animation hasn't even been preserved, it's literally just scripts and the occasional SDH subtitles.txt. they've been republished more times than the Bible

[leninisms]

spotify users: what is the current title of your daylist and what are the first three songs?

[adobe-outdesign]

Muppet fact of the day: One of the Muppet show's pilot episodes was called "The Muppet Show: Sex and Violence", but the Muppets are owned by Disney now and Disney really doesn't like the word "sex" so they insist on just calling it "the Muppet Show Pilot"

anyway reblog this forbidden image of Jim Henson in front of the Sex and Violence title card to make Disney mad

[robynator]

fully believe aeron and davos fucked at least once. and if not that, then they at the very least made out violently in the field by the bracken-blackwood border. it happened. you cannot convince me otherwise.

[snaileer]

A writers haunted past.

I’m literally having this issue with a fic right now🥲

[danishprince]

kieran culkin post-finale interview with variety

[thequeenwechoose]

House of the Dragon 2x02

[lauunart]

Hello Estate Developer fandom, I am trying to get a zine going and need artists writers and any speck of talent to unite for this amazing manwha/novel, if any of this interests u and want to participate DM me, I'm also trying to reach out to ppl but pleaseeee i need this zine to happen‼️

[spaghettiposts]

How do you feel about men writing for Jenna Ortega?

I feel like I don’t care. In short. I don’t care what your gender is, you’re writing amazing products and I’m eating them up. That’s what matters to me. I don’t like the idea of gatekeeping, and in the words of Chef Gusteau; anyone can cook. And believe me, the men are cooking 🔥🔥🔥

You can’t stop writing, it’s an art, why would you want to? It just brings us back into their full circle of problematic hate. Repressing someone for creating beautiful content isn’t valid whatsoever. Hating on someone without a reason besides “they just ruin everything.” Isn’t a valid reason. If you’re gonna hate on someone, you better have a good reason for it and not generalize the selected target for your hate.

I see this problem where women complain in the fan fiction committee that men over sexualize characters and the hypocrisy could not be more insane. I, a woman, constantly see characters such as the aforementioned Jenna, Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff being oversexualized CONSISTENTLY by my own community of women. Therefore I don’t see it as a valid reason when every time I look at the x reader tags I see the kinkest shit ever, written by a woman.

Your brain is built to understand when a problem is a real problem. Men wanting to read fanfiction or write it, is not a problem. If you can’t understand that, it’s just a skill issue atp 🤷‍♀️

[aioliravioli-69]

aight, so uh.... I haven't posted art in a while and I'm sorry💀

I will be doing this months challenge, I'll just have to see when

In the meantime, have some old sickfic sketches of an AU I never finished

I'm begging you to excuse the hands

Originally, Buddy travels to Chase house after Ex Libris finds his location but underestimates the climate of wherever Chase lives. After not being appropriately dressed for a bunch of rainstorms he ends up getting horribly sick and passing out on Chase's lawn, right before he arrives at the house.

The next morning Prunella finds him and non-chalantly tells Chase that there's a stranger in his garden.

Naturally, Chase if conflicted and runs to get Deacon and right after telling Deacon off for wanting to get Buddy inside to take care of him(he's TOTALLY not projecting) they carry the unconscious goth into the house and lay him down on the couch until he wakes up.

There are some more things I want to draw for this

(Buddy cries after eating good soup; Buddy takes a hot bubble bath for the first time in his life -> it's a luxury for him, as Ex Lirbis only had cold rain water ig lmaoo💀💀)

But I'll see lol

[4catsinacult]

Listen I love Logan Howlett as much as the next person but why isn’t there more appreciation for some of Hugh’s other characters?

(Please I am begging)

[adobe-outdesign]

I think one element modern-day Muppet productions are missing is explosions. if you don't have stuff just blowing up for literally no reason at least once per scene then really what are you doing

[metropolisblue]

batman : prodigal (1998) pt.2 | (( pt.1 ))

[actually-factually-anonymous]

Ladybug Vs Avatar's use of the supporting cast and the problem thereof.

I'm not sure if this has been covered before, but there's a serious problem with Marinette being the be-all end-all of everything in Miaculous.

And it's not just because "she's stressed" or "it's all on her". Her being the most important, talented and plot-relevant character in every situation is.

Let's make a comparison to the Gold Standard:

In Avatar the Last Airbender, Aang is the axis of the story. He holds incredible powers beyond anyone else, can bend every element and could conceivably end the entire conflict that plagues his world with relative ease- which he eventually does.

However, for 99% of the story he cannot do so. Because Aang is untrained, he cannot access that divine win-button of the Avatar State at will, and using it carried enormous risks to himself and those around him- making it functionally unusable for common conflicts. Furthermore while he does technically have the capacity to use all four elements, he had only mastered one and needed to learn the remaining three.

Indeed, Aang has outright difficulty with learning Earthbending despite his innate talents and while he's a quick study for the other two, he doesn't demonstrate the same effectiveness with water and fire as Katara and Zuko.

This means that Aang cannot do certain things as well as the others in his team. This means that for the majority of the story, even though his first and preferred element provides him with useful abilities" Aang has weaknesses that he needs others to cover and provide for.

Enter Katara, Sokka, Toph and Zuko.

Katara is a waterbender who teaches Aang and later advances her powers to include the all-important power of healing and the disturbingly effective (though situational) Bloodbending.

Toph is an earthbender who is also one of Aang's teachers, and whose tremor sense later allows her to both detect liars and invent Metalbending.

Sokka is seemingly just the comic relief normie. However his technical mindset allows him to serve as the general of the group, and even plan and lead in that role for entire armies later in the show.

Even Zuko who joins later and becomes less a teacher but a fellow student alongside Aaang in firebending is a skilled infiltrator and melee weapon expert. (This is less of a case than the others since it's not used as much, but it's more of a concrete example than his insights into the fire nation and his potential utility as a replacement Fire Lord).

They each provide far more than those short summaries, but it's important to note that in each case, even when Aang does learn the elements and starts growing into his role as the Avatar: he never gains the full range of abilities that his team offers. He never assumes the fully strategic mindset of Sokka, and even though it's downright implausible that no Avatar before him never learnt healing, he never demonstrates that ability or any Metalbending prowess even in the Avatar state.

There's also the enemy trio of Azula, Ty Lee and Mai. Azula is a powerful firebending genius, but Mai's prowess with her throwing weapons are a close match- and Ty Lee's chi-blocking can outright cripple enemy benders for any given fight when combined with her insane agility: something that not even Azula can do with her firebending. They are an incredibly dangerous combination and when Azula loses them, she becomes far less effective for their absence.

In both teams despite the leader being a powerful, talented bender who is objectively the strongest person on their respective side: there's no doubt about each member of the team contributing something that said leader cannot.

-

Now let's look at Miraculous:

Marinette is the "Greatest Ladybug" of all time despite being fourteen, only having had the earrings for less than a year, and having a list of predecessors that go back literally thousands of years and include Joan of Arc.

She is also the Guardian of the Miracle Box. Specifically she is the Guardian of The Mother Box that is the most important of all the boxes, despite there being at least a full Temple's worth of actually trained candidates somewhere in Tibet who should be far and above more capable than her or her mentor Fu. However, her supposed superior Su-Han seems entirely convinced that she's already surpassed any teachings his order has by how often she breaks said teachings in his face only for him to roll over like a dog. There's not been a single time when Marinette has been confronted by some shortcoming in her responsibilities as a Guardian where she has had to learn anything from the multi-millennia old Order of Guardians.

Marinette has also worn almost every single Miraculous in her Box at the same time, a feat that supposedly risked serious harm to her but merely made her woozy for an afternoon (if that). As of the season five Finale, she has also unified her earrings with her partner's ring: a scenario that in earlier seasons seemed to imply great risk: yet she was able to use the powers flawlessly.

As Ladybug, she is also the lone hero who has unlocked any new advanced powers with her Miraculous (unless you also include the arbitrary "adulthood" that she and Chat Noir achieved that allows them multiple uses of their Miraculous before detransforming), and on the occasions when she's used anyone else's powers has shown no sign of being any less capable than they are with them.

Ladybug does everything as well if not better than everyone else.

Marinette can not only unify with any Miraculous she needs for a given mission, she can use the powers as effectively as their "dedicated holder" can and without any restrictions. Unlike the majority of the cast who are still under the child-power limit. She can even unify with multiple miraculous at the same time without any drawbacks.

And without those drawbacks, without anyone on the cast being able to use the power of their Miraculous more effectively than Marinette: everyone else on the team is more or less superfluous.

Sure, Marinette has tossed out the Miraculous to her team like candy now. But when you get down to it: the real lesson that she should have learnt from Strikeback to just put some damn security on her Yo-yo/The Box. Because this just means that she has to wait for the hero in question to show up when she could have just pulled off whatever plan she has in mind herself.

And that superfluous label includes Chat Noir.

As frustrating as it is to come to the this conclusion: as of right now, there's no real reason for Adrien Agreste to be anything but a temporary holder. Certainly you can point to his experience with Plagg's power, and a few examples that seem to imply he can do more with it (in his second outing he was able to reconstruct part of the Eiffel Tower into a makeshift extension to catch someone from). Things that imply that if he perhaps received any actual training in the show like Marinette did from Fu, any guidance whatsoever from the Order or their Grimoire he might be able to achieve more.

But there's no solid evidence to expect that Marinette wouldn't be as effective, and the narrative precedent does not lend itself to the idea that anyone could overshadow Ladybug as a holder even of their own Miraculous. If anything, the sheer ability Marinette showed as Bug Noire implies that her having a partner instead of just keeping the ring herself is a detriment to any given situation.

If you can justify exposing the ring to potential capture in the first place considering that there seems to be no requirement to do. By all rights the practical thing to do is just keeping Plagg in the box instead of risking reality.

Of course we wanted to be generous, Adrien could still be of some use. He's the resident meatshield and narrative jobber. So long as he has a Miraculous he could continue faithfully serving in those roles, eating up mind-control beams and taking hits for Bug Noire so she can save the day as usual.

But everyone else on the Miraculous team might as well turn in their furry super-suits and go home.

-

You couldn't get a more black and white depiction of the value of others outside of the protagonist. in Avatar, Aang is literally a semi-divine being who still needs to be humble and learn while the others around him still have useful special talents and prowess that he can't simply attain at will.

While in Miraculous, there's only one person of actual true competence. From Paris to Shanghai, Marinette alone is the capable one- barring the odd episode in the limelight (Alya and Felix stand up and take a bow. Adrien can stay seated).

There is a word for a character that is impossibly more capable than any other in spite of all reason and logic. And Marinette is increasingly fitting that mold as the show goes on. There's also a term for characters that ultimately contribute nothing good or bad to a story; wasted space. You can't have an entire ensemble of characters as part of the cast and have them provide nothing if they're supposed to have even a smidge of narrative value without making them something the story would be better off without.

Just as you can't just have one person at the centre of everything, make them capable of everything and not eventually have the story they're in turn into (at best) a power fantasy.

And it's a shame. Because Miraculous seemed like it could have been a lot more.

[pahtoosh]

the greatest form of flattery

[image ID: a gif of lloyd hansen smugly saying “right back at ya, sunshine” to a phone. /.end ID]

masterlist

18+

wc: ~1300 words

warnings: lloyd picks you up like a lot, play fighting, bad word(hell)

a/n: my first lloyd fic! I truly don’t know what came over me—I’ve never even seen the movie. I just thought this idea was so cute and then I had so many more ideas about the dynamic lloyd would have with his little! lots of play fighting and teasing(and kisses because it’s me🤭)

pairing: lloyd hansen x gn!little!reader

summary: Lloyd’s little finds a fake mustache.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

There was little you could do to bother your Daddy. Lloyd reserved all of his patience and understanding for you. You were his little love, so precious and pure. In his eyes, anything you did came from only the best intentions. He could brag for hours about how he had the best little to ever exist, and he taught you scarcely a thing about manners. You were naturally that sweet.

You were grateful that your needs coincided with what Lloyd could give you. Your rowdy days came out when he had more energy to spare chasing you around the yard. Your quiet days fell when he was exhausted from work and only wanted to cuddle in your home’s library, speaking in hushed tones as you escaped into worlds of fantasy. But there were some days when you sought mischief. You just hoped that your Daddy was in the mood to be silly too.

The day before, you attended a birthday party for one of your little friends. It was rare that Lloyd let you partake in events like this. His protective instincts went into overdrive when you showed him the invitation. Rather than giving in to his desire to hide you away, he fell for your pleading eyes and RSVP’d under the condition that he could come along and keep a close eye on you.

An afternoon of bounce castles, water balloons, and party games left you totally knocked out. You fell asleep in the ball pit, and Lloyd climbed in not long after. He scooped you up, resting your tired head on his shoulder as he carried you to the car. He accepted the gift bag from the party host on the way out, deciding that he could also use it to hold the shoes you had taken off before diving into the ball pit.

Feeling refreshed and awake the next day, you were delighted to see the gift bag on your nightstand accompanied by your morning note from Lloyd. He wrote that the package was from your little friend and that you could open it while you waited for him to finish his meetings. You gave his signature a kiss, then placed the note alongside your collection of every note Lloyd had ever written you. He left your little watch on the nightstand too. It was the same shape as your daddy’s, but customized to fit your wrist, and it displayed a digital clock instead of an analog. The screen also had little icons that lit up during snack or nap time. You carefully put on your watch just like how your daddy taught you.

The gift bag was calling your name now. It was simply made of paper, the cartoon animal design being its only saving grace under the scrutinizing eyes of a little. The tissue paper was mostly squished, but it called to you all the same. You dumped out the contents onto your desk, excited to see what you would play with first.

There were the typical favor bag items: stickers, a bouncy ball, and a tiny plastic soldier with a parachute. The bag also had a few little games and snacks. You separated the candy from the bunch and made a mental note about which ones you wanted to eat after lunch. As for the toys, you started with a sticky hand, promptly losing it to your ceiling. The mini dog-shaped puzzle was simple, yet fun. The underwater ring toss tested the last of your patience, but the ball maze lifted your spirits once more.

There were still a few minutes left until Lloyd finished his meeting and you had already played with all the toys in the bag. Or so you thought. You held the gift bag upside down and shook it one last time, hoping for a magical little toy to distract you during your daddy’s absence. Your wish came true when a fuzzy little thing plopped out. It resembled a caterpillar so much, you half expected it to move. Upon further inspection, it wasn’t a fuzzy little creature. It was a fake mustache!

Just like daddy, you thought. You giggled to yourself imagining Lloyd’s reaction to your new look. You carefully peeled away the paper backing and stood in front of the mirror to place the mustache under your nose. The plastic hair tickled a bit, making you sneeze a couple of times. Once you shook yourself off, you practiced a few poses mimicking Lloyd’s stance. His back was always straight, and he sometimes walked with his hands behind as if he were in a museum, which looked extra silly when he was just heading to the kitchen. He also checked his watch with a certain flair and spoke with his head cocked to the side when he was in a teasing mood.

As you checked your little watch, you realized that Lloyd’s meeting would finish soon. You ran towards his office, avoiding the edges of the hallway’s carpet runner because it had a habit of tripping you. Lloyd was closing the door behind him as you barreled towards his form.

“Hey there, honey. What’s got you running like crazy, huh?” He kissed the top of your head and patted you on the back. He hadn’t noticed the mustache yet because you ran with your head tilted downwards for extra speed and hugged his legs instead of jumping into his arms.

“Missed you, Daddy,” you said, your voice muffled by his slacks.

“Aw, how sweet. Come up here, baby. Do you want some kisses?” He lifted you up, doing a double take when he saw your new accessory.

“Is that-“ Lloyd cut off his own sentence as he burst into laughter. He hugged you close and gave you a few kisses in between his chuckles.

You beamed. “Do you like it, Daddy?”

Lloyd nodded, pursing his lips to contain his laughter.

“Now I look like you!”

“Hey now, Daddy’s mustache looks nothing like that,” he defended.

“Does so!” You wiggled out of his arms and struck one of the poses you had practiced. “If you wanna make an omelet-“

“Alright, that’s enough outta you.” Lloyd lifted you up and blew a raspberry on your stomach, making you squeal.

“Da- aahh! That tickles!”

“Shame,” he teased, continuing his attack.

You tousled in Lloyd’s arms until he had to readjust his grip. Using this moment of weakness, you poked his ribs, making him fall dramatically to the floor with you in his arms. He laid there breathless for a moment and was about to sit up before you placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back down.

“I got you.”

“Hell yeah you did, baby.” Lloyd took a breath. “Pinned your Daddy down. Good job, sweetie.” He patted your thigh, wondering if he’d taught you that move during your self defense lessons or if you’d learned it somewhere else. His train of thought was interrupted but a scratchy feeling on his cheek, followed by a soft pucker.

“Did you just give Daddy a kiss?”

“Uh huh!” You did it again on his other cheek. This time, Lloyd couldn’t hide the uncomfortable look on his face.

“Is that how it feels when Daddy kisses you? All scratchy from the mustache?”

“Um.” You touched your mustache as you thought, looking somewhat like a cartoon villain. “Yeah, a little scratchy.”

Lloyd held your free hand in his. “Is it too scratchy? Do you want Daddy to shave off his mustache?”

You shook your head, clinging desperately to him. “No! I love Daddy’s mustache!”

“You do?” he asked.

“Uh huh! Makes Daddy handsome and makes Daddy kisses special!” You demonstrated by pointing to your forehead.

Lloyd sat up and tentatively placed a kiss where you directed, repeating the motion when you wiggled happily.

“See?”

“Okay, honey. Daddy’ll keep his mustache, and you can keep yours too. In a box. Save it for Halloween.”