#fic: lotta love

[daughter-of-melpomene]

𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐆… 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐄𝐑𝐀 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑, 𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐀 𝐁𝐘𝐑𝐍𝐄

❝ Up until receiving her Hogwarts letter at age eleven, Orla hadn’t realized at all that her father was a wizard. Really, she hadn’t realized he was anything at all - she’d never met him, and her mam had never talked about him, except to tell Orla, when she’d asked about him at the tender age of six, that he was a “right thumpin’ bastard” who’d fled the second Orla’s mother had told him she was pregnant.

But now, eleven years later, a stern bespectacled woman was showing up in their little house in their little Irish village, informing them that Orla’s da had, in fact, been a wizard, which made Orla something called a “half-blood” and, more importantly, a witch. And then she was being whisked away to a magical hidden street filled with strange shops and getting spellbooks and a new cat and a bloody magic wand, and then only a few weeks later Orla was standing in a great castle in the Scottish highlands, putting a weird talking hat on her head and hearing it proclaim that she belonged in Hufflepuff, whatever that was.

Orla was pretty sure she’d never been as confused in her life at she was at the very start of her Hogwarts career. But then, in her very first class, she’d made friends with Gryffindors Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald, both of whom were something called Muggleborns and also new to this strange, amazing world, and it had gotten a little better. It had improved even more once the three girls had made friends with another girl named Marlene McKinnon, who had been raised by magical parents and could therefore answer any questions the others had, and who had also kicked an older boy who had insulted Mary where the sun didn’t shine, which in Orla’s opinion was just deadly.

And so it had gone. By this point, at the start of her fifth year, Orla is fairly sure she’s stopped being confused about the wizarding world. She’s learned a lot through experience and all the questions she’s asked Marlene and Sirius, another Gryffindor from a wizarding family whom she really likes even if Lily kind of hates his best mate, and now she’s fairly confident she’s done being confused. As the school year starts, she’s very much looking forward to spending time with her friends, little study parties with Sirius and his boyfriend Remus, and watching James Potter utterly fail at getting a date with Lily.

But then, at the very first Quidditch party of the year, Orla gets drunk and kisses Mary. Mary, her very best friend, who’s always been there for her and has had a million deep late-night chats with her and made Orla laugh when they compared Irish and Scottish slang. Mary, who Orla is just now starting to realize is gorgeous and funny and the dearest person ever… and who Orla has now taken to avoiding because she can’t look at her without remembering what her lips felt like through a booze-fueled haze.

Just when Orla thought she had everything in her life, it turns out the universe has seen fit to turn her life topsy-turvy once again. ❞

Wizarding World Taglist: @manyfandomocs, @of-asters-and-roses.

General Taglist: @hiddenqveendom, @foxesandmagic, @artemisocs, @reyofluke-ocs,

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#my ocs #introducing my ocs #ch: orla byrne #oc: orla byrne #fic: lotta love #queerocs #ocapp #ocappreciation #ochub #allaboutocs #fyeahharrypotterocs #harry potter oc #wizarding world oc #marauders era oc

[roosterforme]

Whole Lotta Love | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley were just friends, and perhaps that was why you trusted him so much. It wasn't his fault that you were secretly harboring a crush a mile wide. When your noisy neighbor becomes too much and you decide you need to move, Bradley helps you brainstorm a solution. But when you set your plans into action, you're surprised to find that he seems almost jealous.

Warnings: Adult language, angst, fluff, drinking, mentions of masturbation

Length: 8600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @mak-32

"I need to move."

Bradley looked up at your annoyed expression as you dropped your lunch tray a little violently onto the cafeteria table across from him with a clatter. The top piece of bread slid off your sandwich as you sat down with a pout. 

"Like to a new apartment?" he asked, reaching over to straighten out your silverware and napkin. "Didn't we just help you move a few months ago, Sparrow?"

For some reason that set you off as your clenched fist bumped the edge of the tray, messing everything up again. "Yes, to a new apartment, Rooster! And yes, I just moved six months ago, but I can't take another day of this shit."

"What's wrong?" Jake asked where he was inhaling his food right next to you like he had a vendetta against it.

You sighed, and the sound was so soft and sweet compared to your frustrated expression, Bradley almost laughed. "The guy who lives above me is an aspiring wedding DJ. Do you have any idea what that means for my sleep schedule?"

"Oh shit," Javy groaned from your other side. "Are you getting Cupid Shuffle all night long?"

"Coyote," you whined, "he makes his own remixes! At four in the morning! When I asked him to stop, he said he was perfecting his artform, but that he'd turn the volume down a smidge. Meanwhile, I moved into my current apartment, because my old neighbors were hosting woodworking retreats in their living room!"

Now Bradley really was laughing. "You need a break? You can come sleep over at my place tonight."

You were finally smiling now as you said, "Thanks Rooster, but I've seen the wrong side of your couch before. I had a long, long night in your living room after the holiday party."

"So don't get drunk first this time," he replied easily, remembering that night vividly. You let him carry you into his house from his Bronco while you whispered the lyrics to Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin really slowly to him. It was funny and somehow a little hot at the same time. He liked it a little too much. "Or you can just sleep in my bed."

Your eyes went a little wide. "With you?"

"Of course not," he replied quickly, hoping he wasn't blushing. "We're just friends. I could take the couch for one night so you can have a break. If you want."

You and he really were just friends. You were friends with all the guys. They all loved you and your humor, and you were a hell of a good WSO. Bradley didn't even fly with a backseater, but he always liked getting paired with you and Omaha. You had an ease about you, and it even translated to the way you took a massive bite out of your sandwich after you said, "Maybe I'll just sneak in and break DJ Insomnia's turntables."

Then you smiled at Bradley while you chewed your food, and Javy and Jake started to make up a song about DJ Insomnia. You laughed when they tried to rhyme 'slumber' with 'nightmare', but you were still looking at Bradley as if he was in on some inside joke with you. Your eyes twinkled when he nudged your leg with his boot underneath the table.

"Hey, I'll be more than happy to help you move again, Sparrow, but I think you ought to at least consider having me over around three in the morning with my keyboard. I'll bring these two idiots with me as well, and we can all sing at the top of our lungs until your neighbor moves out."

You tipped your head back and laughed. "Oh, Rooster. You're the sweetest, but he'd probably actually enjoy that."

Now Bradley was definitely blushing as he looked down at his lunch, and he wasn't really sure why.

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

You gathered your things together for the night as soon as you heard your neighbor playing the Electric Slide. If he was already starting at seven o'clock, you needed to get out now. You shoved clean underwear and some random clothing into your backpack before you stopped in the bathroom and grabbed the essentials. Bradley's couch had never sounded better to you in your life, but if he felt like offering up his bed, then even better. Hell, you'd curl up in there with him at this point. What difference did it make? It wasn't like anything physical was ever going to happen.

He was one of the boys, and you loved them all. It wasn't Bradley's fault that his sun kissed skin and wavy hair were kind of your thing. If they were attached to another man, you'd probably have made a move, but he was your friend. Sure, you'd thought about it before, when you were alone in bed and it was very, very late. He was attractive and hilarious, and you were only human. But some things were sacred.

"Yeah, like peace and quiet," you growled as you stomped down your hallway. You grabbed your keys and headed out, zipping along to Bradley's house in record time. You were obsessed with his place which was complete with flower boxes underneath the front windows and a pink front door that he never seemed to get around to repainting even though he mentioned it all the time.

You hauled yourself up to his porch with your half zipped backpack and bad attitude and pounded on his door. You had a spare key somewhere in the bottom of your purse, but you didn't feel like digging for it. When he didn't answer, you pounded again, a little harder this time. 

"Yeah?" he asked, his tone gruff as the door flew open. "Sparrow," he muttered, his voice much softer with your call sign attached to it. "Hey."

But you didn't register too much besides the fact that he was standing there in nothing but a pair of snug boxer briefs with damp hair and skin that smelled delicious just inches away from you. "Hi," you said, sounding as mesmerized as you felt. Golden tan. Sparse chest hair. Perfectly groomed mustache. You wanted to lick him. Where on earth did that urge come from? You never thought about dragging your tongue along his chest and neck and all the way up to his lips. Except that you had... very, very late at night.

Fuck.

It wouldn't be worth messing things up. You forced your gaze up to his brown eyes. "I'm here for our sleepover," you said with as much normalcy as you could muster, but the response you got was Bradley's cheeks turning pink as he leaned away from the doorway so you could step inside. Then you came to a stop and looked at him again. He smelled really good. Like maybe he was wearing cologne. "Oh. Were you heading out? Do you have a date?"

His cheeks grew redder. "Um, no. Not at all. Of course not."

His answer sent a little wave of relief through your body. "Good." You winced at your response as you continued to his couch and set your bag down. "I mean, do you want to order a pizza or something?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yeah. Sure. Just let me get dressed. I'll be right back out."

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

You actually came over. With your backpack full of your stuff. Bradley wasn't expecting you to take him up on his offer, and now he was doubly flustered; he actually did plan a last minute date, and he just jerked off in the shower while thinking about you.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he pulled on a pair of jeans. He didn't start off thinking about you. It just kind of happened. At first, he was thinking about a faceless girl sitting on his lap with her hand in his underwear, and then suddenly she did have a face. Your face. And then she had your voice. And then he pictured the two of you on his actual couch. And it was definitely you giving him a handjob in his shower fantasy, and he came all over the tile wall like it was your face. He was lucky you didn't let yourself in with your spare key in time to hear him moaning your name.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he asked his reflection in the bedroom mirror. He looked wild. Slightly deranged. His pupils were huge, and his cheeks were hot pink. How the hell was he supposed to eat pizza with you while he was thinking about you on his lap?

But the fact that he wanted nothing more than to eat pizza and drink beers with you solidified the fact that he needed to cancel his date with Erin. He was so stupid for doing this. She was a viable option for someone to date. You were not. But he was apparently going to torture himself anyway as he texted her Hey, sorry this is last minute, but I need to reschedule.

He didn't wait for a response as he made his way back to his living room where you had already cracked open a can of beer from the refrigerator and made yourself at home on the couch. You were wearing what you always wore when you didn't have on a flight suit, just yoga pants and a baggy tee shirt. It shouldn't have been cute, but it was. 

You smiled up at him as you nudged the unopened can of beer on the coffee table with your blue painted toenail. "I got you one."

He poked your foot with his finger and picked up the beer as he said, "Yeah, it's the least you could do since you helped yourself to my fridge." 

When he dropped down onto the couch next to you, his weight on the cushions had you colliding into him. "Sorry," you murmured, your hand coming to rest on his abs as you pushed yourself back into place like it was nothing. Meanwhile, he broke out in a nervous sweat. "What do you want to watch?"

"Doesn't matter," he replied, handing you the remote. Then he grinned and said, "Or we could skip the TV, and I could get my keyboard out and play Cupid Shuffle for you. Maybe try my hand at a remix." You tipped your head back and pretended to cry before you started laughing. "What's the matter? I'm sure I'll sound better than your neighbor. Give it a chance, Sparrow," he teased.

You turned to face him on the couch, still laughing with your beer can resting against his bicep. "First of all, no. Please. No. Absolutely not. Second, has anyone ever told you how adorable it is that you have a keyboard that you actually play?"

"I tell myself that all the time," he replied, trying hard not to smile as you laughed. "I say, 'Bradley, you're adorable. I think it's so cool that you want to relive your piano lessons from middle school. Maybe you should get braces again, too.'"

You were cackling now as you gasped, "Stop it."

He sipped his beer and shook his head. "Of course nobody has ever said my keyboard is adorable. It's the nerdiest thing a guy in his thirties could possibly own, and only like five people in total know about it."

With tears in your eyes, you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so happy I'm one of those five people."

"Yeah, well, keep it to yourself," he muttered with a smile as he took the remote back and turned on the Padres game. You were still giggling softly as you settled in next to him again. "You want pizza?" he asked. 

"I've never said no to pizza," you replied easily, your thigh rubbing gently against his.

"My treat."

"You always say it's your treat. I'll get it this time."

"Nah, you've got to save up your money so you can move out of your apartment, remember?" he asked as he placed the order on his phone.

"How could I forget?" you moaned. "Your house is so nice, I wish I could evict you and move in here."

He set his phone aside and kicked his feet up onto his coffee table. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. "That would be a pretty rude thing to do to the guy who always buys your pizza."

Your side eye was impeccable as you said, "It's not like you'd be destitute. I'd let you live with DJ Insomnia. Now I just need a way to make money fast."

Bradley shook his head as the baseball game went to a commercial. "There's no such thing, Sparrow. Nothing legal anyway, and Uncle Sam pays your salary."

You were tapping your beer can with your finger and biting your lip gently, and Bradley's mind drifted back to his shower fantasy. You hummed softly, and he could practically feel the weight of your body settling onto his lap. That's what he wanted. You and he could finish this discussion with you straddling his thighs and his tongue in your mouth. 

He should have gone out with Erin. He should have just admitted that he had a date and told you that you could hang out here while he was gone, because now he was getting his hopes up as your leg bumped his again. He knew he was blushing when he looked at you, so he turned back to the TV just in time for the beginning of a Hooters commercial.

"Wow," you mused with a little snicker as you gestured toward the parade of tits with your beer can. "That really got your attention."

Bradley rolled his eyes. "No, it didn't."

"Seriously? That's a lot of boobs, Rooster. You think we should contact the ad agency and tell them they should feature a few more?"

He turned and looked at you, and you started cracking up again. "I think it was actually just the right amount of boobs," he said, trying really hard not to look at your chest.

You forced your face into a neutral expression. "Do you like to go to Hooters?"

Bradley groaned and tried to stand up but you reached for his arm and tugged him closer to you instead. "Why do you think it's fun to pick on me?" 

"I'm not really sure, but it's great," you replied. "Didn't all the guys go to Hooters for Jake's birthday?"

"Yeah," he replied with a laugh. "Jake got completely fucking wasted and proposed to our waitress. Then he tried to write his number on a napkin for her, but it looked like hieroglyphics. He even tried to follow her into the kitchen at one point, and Javy had to go get him. At least he left her a two hundred dollar tip for being so annoying."

You gaped at him and set your empty beer can on the coffee table. "Two hundred bucks? Oh my god, do you realize how fast I could buy my own place with guys like Jake around if I worked at Hooters?"

Bradley sat up a little straighter and watched as your eyes lit up while you watched the end of the commercial before the Padres game came on again. "You wouldn't want guys... fussing over you like that, would you?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I can handle myself."

"That's not what I meant. I just-" He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? Was he supposed to tell you he was already jealous just thinking about it? He definitely couldn't admit that. So instead he said, "Your boobs are too good for Hooters. You should keep them in your flight suit."

Now you were looking down at your body and running your hands up your belly to your chest, and Bradley was entranced as he watched you squeeze yourself through your tee shirt like it didn't even matter if he was there or not. You must have trusted him implicitly as you looked at him with sad eyes and said, "You're probably right. Guys know best about this kind of thing, and flight suits are a catch-all for making everyone's body look identical. Maybe it's better to just keep blending in."

He felt like a jerk, because that's not what he meant at all. He wanted to tell you that you were beautiful and that you'd probably make enough money in two weeks to buy the house of your dreams in those orange booty shorts and the tiny tops, but he couldn't. He wanted to kiss that little pout from your lips, but he wouldn't. Instead he said, "Let's keep brainstorming?"

"Yeah, thanks," you whispered, letting your lips brush against his cheek, and Bradley jumped about a mile into the air when there was a knock at the front door.

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

You and Bradley had given up on the Padres game. Now you were turned so you were facing each other with pizza and paper plates and more cans of beer. "Okay, you hear how quiet your house is? You hear how nobody is annoying the shit out of you right now? No turntables or amplifiers anywhere?"

"Yeah," he said with a laugh. His cheeks had been perpetually pink all night, and it was really distracting. You had to keep reminding yourself that he thought you'd look better in your shapeless flight suit than in a Hooters uniform, and it kind of broke your heart every single time. But that's what you needed.

You forced a smile as you said, "I want this kind of peace in my life. So give me your best brainstorming ideas for how I can make some more money. Go."

"What about cage fighting?" he asked before he took an enormous bite of pizza. 

"Cage fighting?" you balked. "Maybe you don't think much of my face, but I happen to like it the way it is!"

His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. "I do like your face, Sparrow. I was just joking." 

He still looked concerned as you waved him off and asked, "What if I started bartending again? Like I did in college?"

Bradley shrugged. "You'll get just as many guys creeping on you at a bar."

You nibbled on your pizza crust and thought about your options. "What if it's the right kind of bar though? One with bouncers and security guards and everything, and oh my god! I've got it!"

"What?" 

You watched him fold another slice of pizza in half and devour it as you said, "The Beauty Bar."

He froze with his mouth full and started shaking his head. "No," he said as soon as he swallowed. "That's like Hooters, but the girls dance. On the bar." 

"Exactly," you told him, letting your hand rest on his knee. "Bigger tips and buffer security guards. Just think about it, Rooster. I could play one of the characters and have my own unique outfit. It's mostly just bartending, but the breaks for dancing would be so fun."

He looked a little constipated, and you almost laughed when he asked, "What kind of outfit?"

You tried to remember the girls from the only time you'd been there. "I think there was a cowgirl and a schoolgirl? Or like a dirty librarian?"

Bradley leaned a little closer to you and said, "Maybe you should reconsider the cage fighting. I could get you like a hockey mask to wear?" He ran his fingertip gently down the side of your face. "You know, to keep you safe?"

"I wouldn't last one round," you told him with a grin. "Besides, The Beauty Bar is mostly filled with bachelorette parties and girls having a fun night out. I think I'll call them or stop by tomorrow and see what they say."

Bradley dropped his hand from your face and muttered, "I'll keep brainstorming. You feel like watching a movie?"

"Sure," you told him as you stretched. "You pick since you paid for the pizza."

A few seconds later, your favorite movie was queued up on the TV, and you tried to get him to look at you, but he was actively avoiding doing so as he tried not to smile. You were halfway on his lap with your hands on his cheeks when he finally met your eyes. "Thanks, Bradley. For the pizza and for the movie and the sleepover and everything."

"You're welcome," he whispered softly. You thought about how good it would feel to kiss him, but you ended up laying on a pillow that was propped against his thigh instead. Less than halfway into the movie, you were sound asleep. 

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

Bradley didn't want to move. You were sound asleep with your cheek pressed to his thigh, and a tiny little spot of drool darkened the fabric of his jeans next to your lips. You had pushed the pillow to the floor, and you had reached for his hand while you dozed.

He'd had a full blown crush on you for a while now. It was useless to try to deny it. But you had him in the friend zone along with Javy and Jake and all the rest of the guys, and he was sure that if he tried to level up, you'd smash him right back down where he belonged.

You were so cute, finally getting the sleep you deserved. Clearly you trusted him, which made him feel important, but he wanted to be important to you in every way. 

When he tried to slide off the couch, you snuggled against him harder. When he tried to wake you up, you moaned and snoozed on. He got himself awkwardly into position to pick you up, and he hoisted you into his arms. Your hand rested on his chest, and your lips met his neck as you mumbled, "I'm sleepy."

"I know you are, Honey." The pet name just slipped out, but you didn't complain as he stood there in his living room trying to stave off an erection as you snuggled against him. "I'm taking you to my bed. You'll be more comfortable."

"M'kay." 

Then he was treated to your half asleep rendition of Whole Lotta Love where most of the lyrics were wrong and it was pretty much completely off key. But you were singing it right next to his ear, and once again, he liked it more than he should. When he set you down on his bed, you immediately burrowed under the blankets like you slept in his room all the time, and he watched you curl up on your side. 

Your eyes were closed as you whispered, "Aren't you getting in?"

He wanted to. He knew the feel of your body well enough to know that he'd love snuggling with you all night. But this friendship meant something to him. "Nah, I'll be out on the couch if you need me."

You didn't respond verbally, but you did nod, and Bradley kissed your temple. Then he grabbed a blanket from his closet and left you alone. His thoughts were a complete mess as he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them on the coffee table. He stretched out on his couch as much as he could, but then he thought about you wearing a Hooters uniform.

"Don't do it," he warned himself, but it was too fucking late. The little orange shorts and the tiny white shirts had been nice on the other girls, sure. But on you'd, they would be lethal for him. 

The idea of you dressed as a cowgirl doing a little dance routine on a sticky bartop wasn't much better. Guys would be throwing tip money at you and begging you to make their drinks. They would all want to chat you up and try to touch you. Bradley would go through the roof if one of them did. But if this is what you wanted to do and it was going to help you reach your goal, then he was going to have to be supportive, even if it killed him. 

After barely sleeping most of the night, Bradley was finally dozing when you walked out into the living room the next morning. His blanket ended up on the floor at some point, but you came right over to him where he was overflowing from the couch in just his undershirt and boxer briefs. 

"You could have slept in your bed, too," you whispered, brushing your fingers through his hair. "You're too big for the couch."

He noted that you were wearing your backpack as he melted into your touch. "Are you leaving? I thought we could grab breakfast."

Now you were smiling. "I'm gonna run. I'm planning to stop at The Beauty Bar later and see if they're hiring any new bartenders. Thanks for everything."

With that, you kissed his forehead, and Bradley's eyes closed as soon as you went prancing out his front door into the sunlight. "I'll keep brainstorming," he groaned.

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

Your interview at the bar consisted of making three drinks and picking out a 'uniform' to wear. Some of the clothing was so tiny, it made the Hooters girls look modest by comparison. But they assured you that you'd love working there, so you accepted the position and took your new clothing home. 

The first time you put on the black leather skirt that zipped all the way up the front along with the cropped shirt, you took it back off immediately. Could you mix cocktails in the outfit? Sure. Could you dance on the top of the bar for three minutes straight three times per night? Maybe not. But then you remembered that they told you some girls made up to five hundred bucks per shift. And then DJ Insomnia started on a remix of the Macarena right above you. 

So you put the outfit back on again and decided that yes, you could do this. And maybe it would help to get a guy's perspective on the way you looked and your dance moves. You wanted to ask Bradley, but you didn't think you could handle the way he'd laugh about this. But there was something about the way he'd been concerned about you when you slept over at his place on Friday night. You almost felt protected. Cared for. God, you were already jealous of the woman he would eventually fall for, because she would be on the receiving end of all of his warm attention. And she'd get to live in that house with him. And he'd actually sleep in his bed with her, unlike the couch when you were there. 

You rolled your eyes in the mirror and added some makeup to your face. This was so unlike you, falling for one of your friends. But you were tired of trying to fight it. And you still trusted his opinions. So you called him.

"Sparrow," he crooned when he answered your call.

"Rooster," you replied in your most matter of fact tone. "I was wondering if you could stop by for a few minutes and help me with something?"

"Right now?" he asked immediately.

You bit your lip before swiping some lipstick on while you said, "Whenever you have a chance."

"I'll be there soon."

He didn't let you down. He never did. Twenty minutes later, there were three taps on your apartment door, and then he was letting himself inside with the spare key you gave him months ago.

"Sparrow, it's me," he called out over the remix of Footloose. "Jesus. You weren't kidding. Your neighbor plays music like this all the time?"

"Yes," you shouted from your bedroom. "Constantly."

"I'm going to go up and have a little chat with him."

You were putting the finishing touches on your makeup as you said, "Don't bother. I've tried so many times. All he's done is lower the volume the slightest bit."

Bradley's sarcastic laugh from your living room made you smile. "I'm sure I can get him to do whatever I say."

That was undoubtedly the truth. You also didn't want him to get arrested. When you ran out to see him, you had forgotten what you were wearing as you threw your arms around his neck and hugged him.

Bradley's eyes were wide, and as soon as his hands settled on your bare waist, he pulled them right off again. "Holy shit. What the fuck is this?"

"Oh," you gasped, taking a nervous step away from him. "It's kind of my uniform. For my new bartending gig?" His cheeks were pink, his lips were parted, and he was gaping at you as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. "Is it bad?"

"Holy shit," he repeated. And then he said it one more time before he met your eyes. "Do you think it's bad?"

You winced and groaned. "I wasn't sure. But you're a guy. If you think it's awful, then I certainly don't want to wear it to my second job." He let out a strangled sound, and you started to turn back to your bedroom. "I'll stick to my flight suits."

You felt his fingers lace with yours before you heard his strained voice. "It's not bad, Sparrow. It's really fucking hot." You turned and looked at him, annoyed that you were feeling so vulnerable. He swallowed hard before he added, "You always look good."

He tugged you a little closer to him, and a smile found your lips. "I think I get it. It's hard to be objective when you're friends with someone. You'd probably like the outfit better on someone else."

Somehow his eyes went wider. "I really don't think that's it at all, actually," he whispered. Then DJ Insomnia started playing a remix that actually sounded good for once, and you tugged Bradley toward your couch with your linked fingers. 

"Here, watch me dance real quick, and then we can just hang out."

"Okay," he grunted, taking a seat.

"Just pretend I'm someone else," you told him as you ran one hand down your side until your palm settled on your hip. You started to turn in a slow circle as you moved your hips to the music that made its way to your living room. 

"I don't really want to do that."

You looked back at Bradley over your shoulder and caught him staring at your butt. "You don't?"

He shook his head slowly as you turned to face him, still dancing. "Hell no," he whispered, watching your face now. He brought his hand up to cover his mouth, and his dark gaze looked almost greedy, but he sat there and watched you dance, barely moving a muscle until you stopped along with the music.

"Well? What do you think?" you asked, holding your hands out to your sides.

He cleared his throat. "I think it's a good thing you don't have a boyfriend, because he'd already be jealous as fuck."

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

You looked exhausted every single day now. Bradley started to bring you extra coffee from his own kitchen to try to combat your near constant yawning and fatigue each morning. You weren't just battling through sleepless nights at your apartment with DJ Insomnia, you were also working all day as a WSO and frequently working late into the night at the bar. 

"I'm a little worried about you," he murmured one morning as you sipped the coffee he made. "You're working too hard, Sparrow." He didn't want to put voice to the way he felt about your bartending shifts. He made it a point not to stop by and see you there even though you'd asked him to. But he desperately wished you would quit. Every time he thought about you in your little costume with your red, pouty lips, he got more jealous inside. He could just imagine dozens, maybe hundreds of pairs of eyes on you, and he didn't like the way he wanted to be the only one treated to that sight.

"I'm fine," you replied softly. "I've already made thousands in tip money, and it's only been two weeks." You tried to smile up at him, but it didn't quite meet your eyes. "I mean, it's not the best scenario, because sometimes the patrons get a little rowdy. But it's not the worst thing. I'll just keep it up for a few months or until I get deployed."

Bradley grunted. "Explain to me exactly how rowdy they get."

Now you were sipping your coffee and staring at the patches on his flight suit instead of looking at his face. "Well, nobody is supposed to touch us. But sometimes guys do try it. Especially when we're dancing. The bouncers are great and all, but they can only get over there so quickly."

Bradley leaned down until you were looking him in the eye. He knew he was no better than some random asshole at the bar. He was probably worse since he thought about you dancing for him every time he took a shower. But he couldn't stand how apprehensive you looked when you talked about that place. You never looked like that when you were alone with him. 

"I think you should quit," he told you blandly. 

"It's not that bad," you replied. "Maybe I'm not doing a good job of explaining it. Come visit one night, and I'll buy you a drink."

"Sparrow, literally the last thing I want to do is witness every drunk asshole at the bar trying to look up your skirt."

You scoffed. "I wear little booty shorts underneath it!"

He closed his eyes and grunted, "I could have lived without that visual." It would just add to his shower time fodder.

"Oh! You should come on Friday night," you said, patting him on the chest. "I'll invite all the guys! There are drink specials. Hey, Javy!"

You wandered away, and soon Bradley's fate was sealed. Javy, Jake, Mickey, Reuben and Bob were all planning on going to The Beauty Bar for happy hour, and he was expected to be there, too. It wasn't like it was your fault he was falling for you, so he was just going to have to go and be supportive. He'd make sure all the guys left you massive tips, too. 

You were still exhausted on Friday morning, and Bradley didn't like the way you were yawning as you loaded into your jet. You were quieter now at work than you usually were, and he was tempted to tell you to start sleeping at his place to try to cut out some of your stress. Having you close by sounded good to him as well.

Maybe he'd hang out at your bar all night and take you home with him. He could carry you to his bed before retiring to the couch and pretending he was also in his bed. Maybe you would even serenade him with the song. You'd get a good night's sleep and then this never ending friendship loop would start all over again.

If he could think of a way to break the loop and turn it into a straight line that led to a relationship with you, he'd take it. That was probably the type of brainstorming he should be working on at this point since you were already working at the bar now. He was still trying to think of a way to tell you how he really felt without destroying the friendship as he drove his Bronco across the city to the extremely popular Beauty Bar. 

"You're kidding," he muttered. There was a line to get inside, and he told you he'd be here by eight o'clock when the dancing started. 

"Holy shit," Jake said as he and Javy headed up the sidewalk and got in line with him. "I guess there's no shortage of guys who want to look at Sparrow."

Javy nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't really want to look at Sparrow, but I'll gladly take all the other girls."

That was literally the exact opposite of Bradley's thinking. He couldn't give a shit who else was working, his eyes would find you and stay there all night. Whether you were serving drinks, chatting with patrons or dancing, he'd be focused on nothing but you.

The guys all got their driver's licenses out, and the bouncer muttered, "Don't want any trouble from the three of you," as he checked them. 

Shit, what the hell kind of place was this if you got warned at the door on your way in? But when he walked inside and saw how crowded it was along with the two random girls doing a line dance along the bar, he could kind of understand. It was mostly packed with guys, and Reuben, Mickey and Bob were waving them over. Bradley moved slowly through the crowd, and then he found you in your cute little outfit handing someone a beer, and his heart stopped. 

Your smile looked like it was pasted on, but once you saw Bradley, your whole face lit up. You waved to him as you bounced up and down behind the bar, clearly excited that he was here. He started throwing his elbows and shoulders around to get to you, passing all of the other guys in the process. 

"Rooster!" you called out over the music when he got closer. The two girls danced across the bar between you and him, but his focus didn't waver at all as he matched your smile. "Do you want a drink?"

He shrugged and said, "I kind of just wanted to see you."

"Oh," you replied, looking pleased enough that Bradley decided to push the boundary just a little bit. 

"I don't really like it here, actually. If at any time you feel like quitting your job, I'll take you right to my place and let you sleep in peace and quiet again."

You poured a beer and handed it to him. "You don't like the girls?" you asked, glancing at the boots as they went by again. 

"Not those ones."

You looked him dead in the eye and asked, "Which ones then?"

His fingers flexed on his pint of beer as someone tried to jostle him out of the way to get closer, but he didn't look away from you as he said, "Come on, Sparrow." His voice was a little rough, and now you looked confused. He would do it. He'd ruin everything just so you knew. But he didn't want you to feel bad for him. 

Then someone called your first name, and you and he both turned to see an older woman holding up both hands. "I'm on in ten," you told him, reaching out to touch his fingers where they rested on the bar. "Let me take a few more drink orders before I have to dance."

"Right," he said. It was better that you didn't know. You were trying to make some money here, and he was already messing it up by talking to you for too long. "I'll catch you later."

He wandered off in the direction of the rest of the guys. "Yo, that blonde is so hot, and she made my drink perfectly," Mickey was saying as he drank something that looked fruity and sweet. 

"I'm an equal opportunity aviator tonight," Jake drawled. "I see a girl in a little outfit, she gets my phone number."

"You're delusional is what you are," Bradley told him as he sipped his beer. "All of you better leave Sparrow a massive tip. Seriously. I'm not kidding." 

He listened to the guys chat as he turned back toward the bar to check on you. It was almost time for you to dance, and his stomach was churning with anticipation and anxiety. He'd been dying to see you move like that again, but he could do without the memory of everyone else knowing how you looked when you shook your hips. 

Then you broke away from some guy who looked like a real tool who was reaching for you across the bar. You backed up and bumped into the mini fridge behind you and winced, and Bradley took a few steps in your direction. He memorized what that guy was wearing and what he looked like, just in case. 

But now it was time for you to dance, so at least you were able to step away from him. One of the cowgirls was helping you up onto the bar, and the crowd started cheering. The opening notes to Whole Lotta Love started playing, and Bradley's arms prickled with goosebumps as you ran your hand down to your waist and shook your hips from side to side. You were moving just like you had in your living room, but all he could think about were the times you sang this song to him. He wanted all of it to be just for him. He wanted to touch you the way you were touching yourself. He wanted to taste the sweat that glistened on your neck.

His jealousy flared, burning bright inside of him as he watched everyone crowd the bar as you strutted along with a smile on your face. And once again your smile brightened when you found him, and then you mouthed the lyrics, 'Way down inside, honey you need it. I'm gonna give you my love. I'm gonna give you my love.' You mouthed the words to him. 

Bradley grunted. His body felt like it was pulled taut like a rubber band, about to snap. You stopped at the end of the bar and did a little twirl as the crowd sang along to the song, but you kept your eyes on him. Your lips perfectly formed every word, and he'd never forget this feeling for the rest of his life. 

Then you turned away from him, and he instantly missed the way you were subtly giving him your attention. He moved forward a little bit through the crowd, wanting to get closer to you. When you spun around again, he saw you looking for him, and your smile wavered. 

"Sparrow!" he called out, and when you found him again, you laughed. And he laughed, too. But this must have been the breaking point in the evening, because Bradley got hit in the shoulder as a fight broke out to his right. Everyone got shoved forward, and a random glass of beer hit the bar. You tried to jump out of the way as your feet got soaked, and then your boss started yelling at you to keep dancing. Now when you looked at Bradley, you were no longer smiling.

He called your first name this time as you tried to step over the wet part of the bar and continue to the other end. Bradley saw him before you did. That asshole guy was back, and he smiled as he looked up your skirt. Bradley fleetingly remembered you told him you wore shorts under your skirt, and he really hoped you had them on tonight. But that wasn't the end of it, because now he was reaching out for your foot. 

"What the fuck?" Bradley shouted, handing his glass to a stranger as he tried to get to you. With that asshole's hand firmly wrapped around your ankle, you started to waver. You were nine feet up in the air, surrounded by glass bottles, and he knew he was closer to you than any of the bouncers. 

"Stop it!" you shouted above the music as you tried to pull yourself free, but that guy was unrelenting. You took one more awkward step before your body turned sideways. You were about to fall off the bar. Bradley fought his way forward as you tried to correct yourself, but it was too late, now it looked like you were going to land on your wrist on the bar, and probably break a bone. 

Bradley lunged just in time, and thankfully you saw him. You trusted him, and right now he could see that fact in your eyes. You let yourself fall forward into the crowd. Into his open arms. 

"Oh my god, Bradley!" you gasped as your arms wound around his neck and legs wrapped around his waist, clinging to him. You were shaking.

"I've got you," he promised as the song played on. He wanted to throw that guy up against the wall, but he was too content holding you to him as you buried your face against his neck. Letting go of you wasn't really an option. He wrapped one big hand around your thigh while the other squeezed your waist. "I have you, Sparrow."

Jake and Javy were there now, and Bradley nodded to the guy who grabbed you. He'd let them take care of it, because now your lips were brushing his ear. "That was terrifying," you whispered, and someone finally changed the song while another dancer climbed onto the bar.

Bradley made the decision to carry you outside into the cool night, walking slowly down the block where it was quieter as you caught your breath. "Are you okay now?" he asked softly.

You nodded against him, and when he adjusted you in his arms, you quickly whispered, "Please don't put me down yet."

"I won't," he promised before pressing his lips to your collarbone. You whimpered, and he couldn't help it. He said, "I don't ever want to put you down. And for the record, I don't want you to dance here anymore either. I never wanted you to."

You lifted your head away from him, and Bradley practically melted as your fingers tugged through the hair at the back of his head. Your lips were pouty, and your eyes were trusting as you asked, "You never wanted me to?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

He knew he had to say it and risk ruining everything, because pretending like this friendship with you was enough was actually hurting him now. He looked at your pretty face as he said, "Because I'm in love with you. And I'm selfish and jealous, and I don't want a bunch of other guys watching you dance around in this little outfit. Dancing around to my song."

"Bradley." You leaned closer, and you didn't stop until your lips were on his. This was better than he thought it could be, already so comfortable around you. Already addicted to your voice and the way you felt in his arms. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you kissed him, parting his lips with yours until you were tasting him. When you pulled away with a little moan, you whispered his name again while you ran your thumb along his mustache. 

"Why did you dance to that song?" he demanded gently.

You pressed another kiss to his mouth before you said, "It made it less scary to get up on the bar when I was listening to a song that reminds me of you."

"Why?" he demanded again. 

Then you very easily and simply said, "Because I'm in love with you, too."

"Honey," he sighed against your lips, smiling this time as you slowly unwrapped your legs and slid down the front of his body. Once you were standing on your own, Bradley let his hands fall to your hips, and you wiggled yourself snug against his body. 

You felt just like his shower fantasies and all of his other fantasies, if he was being honest with himself. He thought about you all the time. You nibbled on his lips and dragged your fingers through his hair until he was frankly afraid he was going to get hard in his jeans right here on the sidewalk. He pried his lips from yours, making you pout, and he chuckled as he said, "Sparrow, you're killing me."

Your pout grew more pronounced as you said, "I want you to call me Honey again."

His smile must look ridiculous now as he said, "Honey."

"That's better," you said as your lips curled into a grin. "Let's get out of here."

"Do you think you should go back inside first?" he asked, hoping you'd just ditch the whole thing with him, but you nodded in response. 

"Yeah, good idea. I'll go quit in person," you said, taking his hand in yours.

He stood his ground in response, and you weren't able to move him, but one tug on your hand and you were headed right back to his arms. "Excellent. As soon as you do that, we can talk about how we aren't friends anymore."

"We're not?" you asked, and as soon as that pout started returning, Bradley leaned down and kissed you.

"Hell no," he whispered against your lips. "You're gonna be my girlfriend. And I'll be your boyfriend. And I'm going to take you back to my house. And this time when I carry you to bed, I'm going to stay there with you all night. If that's cool."

"It's so cool," you promised him, and this time when you tugged on his hand, he followed you back up the sidewalk. "It's almost as cool as a man in his thirties who has a keyboard."

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

You were honestly impressed by the way the other guys weren't phased at all. Maybe it was obvious that you and Bradley belonged together, but none of them found it surprising that you were suddenly a couple. It really wasn't sudden at all in your mind though. There was a slow build of trust and appreciation over time that turned physical as soon as Bradley admitted he was in love with you. And four months later, none of it had let up. In fact, you couldn't get enough, and neither could he.

"That's it?" he asked, pointing to the single box left in your trunk. 

"That's it," you told him as you picked it up. And then he picked you up and carried you toward his house while you laughed. You passed the planter boxes full of flowers and went through the pink door.

"Then it's official. You live here now. Welcome home, Honey."

"Oh please," you replied as he set you down. "I've been unofficially living here for months."

"All thanks to DJ Insomnia," he whispered, leaning down and placing an absolutely filthy kiss on your lips.

You moaned. "I owe him so much."

Bradley shrugged and said, "I think we would have eventually arrived at the same conclusion regardless."

"What conclusion would that be?"

"That you're in love with me."

You wanted to deny it, but you couldn't. "Help me unpack the rest of my clothes and shoes so we can explore another one of your shower fantasies."

Bradley moaned and said, "Absolutely. I'll meet you in the bedroom. I just need to get something first."

That's how you ended up putting your clothes on hangers while Bradley resurfaced a few minutes later with his keyboard. Instead of helping you in any way, he sat on the bed and started playing Whole Lotta Love. 

"I asked you to help me," you told him with a laugh as you tossed a pair of your shorts at him while he played. "You're worse than DJ Insomnia."

"Just for that, you get a remix too."

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

I'm not exactly sure how "Sneak Peek: Bradley's Version" ended up happening, but I hope you enjoyed it. I might like it even better than the Jake fic! Thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #whole lotta love

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family Steddie Part 5

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

The fact that we're on part five is wild to me

Anyway, here's the wedding! It's probably the longest part so far lol

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

Wedding planning was, unsurprisingly, a stressful process. Planning for a wedding only two weeks before the event was even more stressful. Thankfully, Steve wasn't planning alone; he was in charge of finalizing the guest list, sending invitations, and catering while Eddie was in charge of floral arrangements, music, and decorations for the ceremony.

Steve had felt the division of labor wasn't fair, but Eddie insisted he'd be able to do everything himself.

And Eddie had been right. He'd kept the cemetery just creepy enough to still feel right while decorating it with flowers and ribbons and surprisingly comfortable chairs considering they look like they're made of bones. Everything leads up to an altar right on their shared cemetery plot, where Eddie's Cousin Itt is standing in front of their tombstone to officiate the wedding.

It's all very nice, and Eddie did a wonderful job of setting everything up, but Steve can hardly appreciate it right now. He's too nervous. Not about marrying Eddie; no, he's excited and over the moon for that. He's nervous about meeting Eddie's family, his stomach upheaving over the idea that one of them may not like him.

"You're worrying over nothing," Eddie whispers, his lips brushing against Steve's earlobe before playfully tugging on it with his teeth. He wraps an arm around Steve's waist, the reassuring weight helping him feel grounded. "They're gonna love you."

"Your cousin has been glaring at me since she saw me," Steve whispers back, turning to look at Eddie and letting their noses brush.

"That's just Wednesday. She glares at everyone."

"Does she always glare at people like she's planning five ways to cook them for dinner?"

"Only the ones she likes."

Steve snorts, taking a deep breath and letting his head drop onto Eddie's shoulder. "What would she do if she didn't like me?" he asks, glancing down at the bouquet in his hands. The rose stems have been clipped of their flowers, leaving only the thorns and white lilies.

"She'd kill you," Eddie says bluntly.

"What, no torture?"

"She only tortures the people she loves."

"Oh," Steve says, glancing at the pale man next to Wednesday, "that's why her partner looks like that."

Before Eddie can start cracking up, the sun begins to set and El begins playing the piano, a low and haunting version of the wedding march. "You ready, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, his smile matching Steve's in love and joy and sheer excitement.

"Of course," Steve replies, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before letting Eddie lead him down the aisle. The left side of the aisle is filled with people who give off the exact same vibe as Eddie: mysterious, kooky, and altogether ooky. Wayne is standing on Eddie's side of the altar, looking two seconds away from tears of joy. On the right side of the aisle, Dustin (a black velvet pillow holding two rings in his lap) and his friends are filling the seats, along with Jonathan (an old friend from high school, sort of; it's complicated), his partner Argyle, and Nancy (Steve's ex-girlfriend from high school, part of the reason his friendship with Jonathan is complicated, and now making eyes at Robin). Robin is standing on Steve's side of the altar, practically buzzing in her dark green pantsuit.

When they get to the altar, standing almost perfectly centered on their plot, Eddie can barely put any distance between them. Steve is the one who has to smile at him reassuringly while taking a small step back, keeping a tight hold on Eddie's hand. Eddie squeezes tightly enough that Steve is almost worried about bone fractures, but Eddie wouldn't do anything so fun in front of others.

Steve glances at Cousin Itt when he starts speaking, his words unintelligible, high-pitched noises that Steve is somehow able to follow. They're the general officiant stuff: dearly beloved, marrying two men, joining them in unholy and downright sacrilegious matrimony. Honestly, Steve ends up blocking it out at some point, too busy getting lost in Eddie's eyes.

He looks handsome in his black suit with blood-red accents, his fingers uncharacteristically devoid of all rings except the engaged-to-be-engaged ring from Steve. When Steve had asked, Eddie grinned at him and said he didn't want anything to distract him from the ring Steve was about to give him. His hair is pushed out of his face, too, just barely tamed into something the humidity will destroy after about two more minutes. Strands are already falling back into his eyes. Steve likes it, though, and he reaches up to gently tuck one of the strands behind Eddie's ear.

Eddie catches his hand, bringing Steve's palm to his lips and playfully biting. "Stevie," he says, and Steve suddenly realizes they've somehow gotten to the vows when he wasn't paying attention, "I would kill for you. I would die for you. I would live for you. You haunt my dreams and bless my nightmares. Your voice is music to my ears, a symphony of love and passion to which my heart beats. Sweetheart, you will have my undying love for the rest of eternity and whatever may come after. Ask anything of me, and I will do it without question. I would wear pastels for you. I would dive into a rainbow ball pit. Darling, I would drive kids to scout meetings in a minivan for you. There is no truer happiness to me so long as you smile and say you love me."

Somehow, Eddie manages to go the entire time without a single tear shedding, but Steve isn't nearly as lucky. His eyes watered from the moment Eddie called him Stevie, and tears would be staining his collar if Eddie weren't wiping them away with his thumbs before they could fall. "You're so romantic," he mumbles, unable to help a short laugh at himself.

"What can I say? You're inspiring," Eddie replies, winking playfully.

Cousin Itt says something more and then looks up at Steve, bending forward slightly to indicate that it's his turn to recite vows. Steve takes a deep breath, steadying himself and gathering his thoughts. "When you first knocked on my door, I wasn't sure what to think of you, Eddie Munson," Steve says, reaching up and placing his hand over the one Eddie has on his cheek. "But you romanced me, completely swept me off my feet, and helped me feel more comfortable showing love in a way that feels right. Every time I look into your eyes, I fall in love all over again. When we're together, the entire world fades away. My love for you is as unwavering as the tides, as all-consuming as a black hole that would swallow the universe."

From the crowd, Steve can just barely hear a man's voice saying, "Tish, they're almost as romantic as us."

"Oh, Gomez, you always do love competition," a woman responds.

Steve has to keep himself from laughing, suddenly looking forward to meeting Gomez and Morticia.

Eddie notices his barely contained smile and nearly buzzes with the want to kiss it. He glances at Cousin Itt, jerking his head in Dustin's direction and raising his eyebrows. Cousin Itt garbles a response, something that sounds like a scolding but is quickly followed by a slight bow toward Dustin nonetheless.

Dustin jumps up and walks over to them, holding up the pillow. As Cousin Itt starts his version of exchanging the rings, Eddie picks one up. The band is an inky black with tiny, multi-colored gems scattered across the top like stars. Inside the band, Eddie's name is engraved in red. "Now, you'll always have me with you," Eddie says, grinning at Steve as he slips the ring onto his finger, nestling it against the engagement ring.

It's a snug fit, just tight enough for Steve to know it's there and wonder if it's impossible to take off. It's perfect.

Steve picks up the identical ring with his own name engraved on the inner band. "And you'll always have me with you, too," Steve replies, sliding the ring to rest against his engaged-to-be-engaged ring.

What follows is Dustin quickly retreating and Robin yanking away his bouquet while Cousin Itt bows slightly to the both of them and happily squeaks out one last sentence. Steve barely braces himself for Eddie pulling him close, spinning him into a dip, and kissing him breathless. Steve can't help laughing into the kiss as he wraps his arms around Eddie's neck, brushing his tongue along Eddie's lips and tasting cyanide punch still lingering behind his teeth.

Wolf whistles (Robin and a few of Eddie's cousins), cheers (Wayne and the rest of Eddie's family), and exaggerated exclamations of disgust (Dustin and his friends) surround them as Eddie bites his bottom lip before breaking the kiss. Steve grins at him, playfully tugging on a lock of Eddie's hair as he asks, "You gonna let me up, handsome?"

"You could poison me and I'd only hold you tighter, sweetheart," Eddie tells him.

"Promise?"

Eddie grins and pulls Steve out of the dip, keeping him close as he turns to the crowd with a happy smile. "Okay, everyone," he says, his hand dropping down to Steve's lower back, "the reception is over by the Sheffield Mausoleum. Stevie and I will be joining you shortly."

Steve reaches out for Eddie's left hand as the crowd rises and disperses towards a mausoleum behind the altar. The wedding ring pairs nicely with the engaged-to-be-engaged ring, and the gems on both reflect the last, soft rays of the setting sun and the lamps hung all around them so guests can still see in the dark.

The only one who hangs back is Dustin, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Eddie notices him and gently pulls his hand from Steve's so he can hold an arm out. Dustin lights up and barrels straight into them. "You're, like, my brother now!" Dustin says, looking up at Eddie with stars in his eyes.

"Gee, was I not doing a good enough job?" Steve asks.

Dustin snorts, poking Steve's ribs as he pulls away. "Sorry, man, you're just not as cool as Eddie."

"Woah, woah," Eddie says, maliciously ruffling Dustin's hair, "that's my husband you're talking about. I won't tolerate a single bad word about him."

"Oh, gross, you're gonna be even worse now," Dustin whines, slapping Eddie's hand away.

Steve can't help laughing, about to make a similar joke about brutalizing his husband only to be interrupted by a familiar and dreadful voice coming from his left.

"Steven?"

Every muscle in Steve stiffens, his entire body becoming straight as a board against his will, and he sees the exact same thing happen to Dustin. He doesn't want to, but Steve still forces himself to lean forward so he can see around Eddie.

There are two people standing right on the border between the green grass with clean tombstones and the stubborn weeds and vines climbing up worn stone. Both are middle-aged; the woman has blonde hair perfectly curled to frame her face and brown eyes, and the man has dark brown hair carefully styled with just barely too much gel and dull green eyes.

Steve feels his palms grow clammy as a spike of white-hot anxiety shoots up his spine. He glances at Dustin, reassuringly pats his shoulder, and pushes him closer to Eddie. His husband (he should be feeling much happier when referring to Eddie as such, and the fact that he doesn't fills him with anger and frustration equal to the anxiety caused by the man and woman) clearly has questions but doesn't say anything. Eddie just places a hand on Dustin's shoulder, the same spot Steve patted.

Steve takes a deep breath and turns, plastering on a smile so fake that it makes his stomach churn. "Mom, Dad, what are you doing here?" he asks, walking over to the two but staying on the brown and ancient side of the grass.

His mother raises a single, perfect eyebrow at him. "We received news of the wedding from our secretary," she says.

"Honestly, Steven, what else are we supposed to do when our eldest son gets married?" his father asks. And for a brief moment, Steve thinks they'll be supportive. Maybe they'll pull out a small but thoughtful wedding gift and mingle with the rest of the guests. He's wrong, of course, but it was a nice delusion while it lasted. "Of course, we had to come and stop you from getting married to this Munson character."

His mother huffs softly, her fingers twitching like she's about to reach for a cigarette even though she claimed to stop smoking years ago. "It seems we're a little too late for that, though. No matter. We're friends with a judge, so come along, Steven, we'll get this marriage voided before morning."

Honestly, Steve is surprised Eddie managed to go so long without inserting himself. The moment his mother threatened to void the marriage, however, Eddie definitely isn't able to hold himself back any longer. He steps forward, wraps an arm around Steve's waist, and asks, "So sorry, but who are you, and why are you intruding on our wedding?"

The sheer offense on their faces almost makes Steve feel better as he places a hand on Eddie's chest right over his heart. And he says almost because the offense is quickly followed by his mother saying, "We are Steven's parents, and you are about two seconds from legal action."

Eddie actually laughs in her face, and Steve feels the tension drain from him at the sound. "Please, go ahead. We Munsons love a good court battle. They've yet to make any charges stick, you know," Eddie says, his grin nearly feral and sending a thrill from Steve's scalp down to his toes.

He grips Eddie's shirt, gaining his attention and flashing a suggestive smile. "Eds," Steve whispers, briefly forgetting about his parents and the rest of the world, "what charges?"

That feral grin somehow widens, bringing Steve's attention to the too-sharp canines that he wants to drag his tongue against until it bleeds. "Would you like the list in chronological or alphabetical order, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, leaning close until their lips are just barely touching.

Steve licks his lips, tongue brushing against Eddie's teasingly, and watches as Eddie's eyes darken into something hungry and insatiable and terrifying and thrilling.

"Oh, gross, seriously?!" Dustin cries from behind them, throwing his hands in the air. "Save it for the honeymoon."

That seems to break Steve's parents out of whatever stupor had overtaken them. "Steven!" his father warns, voice low and threatening and utterly laughable. "Step away from him this instant. Is this the kind of example you've been setting for Dustin? We promised his parents to raise him properly when we took him in."

Oh. That's the card they're going to pull now. Steve sighs, whispers, "Later," to Eddie, and turns to look at his parents. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, teeth playfully brushing against his skin despite the audience. "One, he's my husband," Steve says, raising a finger for each item that follows the first, "Two, any example I set will be far better than the one set by your absence. Three, I suggest you leave before you find yourself stuck in this cemetery indefinitely."

Eddie huffs softly against his neck, and Dustin moves closer to Steve's side, grabbing his sleeve tightly. "You haven't raised me at all," Dustin tells them, his voice prickly and indicative of the hackles that would be raised if he had any.

"That is enough," Steve's mother snaps, effectively shutting up her own husband as she takes a single step forward. It's the first one she's taken since they started speaking, but she still avoids stepping over the line made by the grass. "Steven, if you insist on this...mistake, we'll simply have no choice but to cut you off. We'll also have to take Dustin since you clearly aren't the good influence you promised to be."

Steve should probably be angry. In fact, he is, but that anger is overshadowed by the undeniable urge to laugh in her face. Which he does. Loudly. "I haven't used your money for myself in ages," Steve tells her, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the house, "In fact, it's all gone toward house payments and bills. So, sure, take the house. Eddie and I will get a new place with an even bigger room for Dustin who, by the way, is going fucking nowhere."

"Oh, I love it when you curse," Eddie murmurs, kissing a line up Steve's neck to just below his earlobe.

Despite himself, Steve grins a little. And then Dustin tugs on his sleeve, gaining his attention before saying, "I really don't want to go with them."

"You won't," Steve promises, continuing before either of his parents can say anything, "because you're sixteen. I'll make sure the custody case drags itself long enough for you to turn eighteen, and then they won't have any say over you."

"That would be very expensive, Steven," his father says, taking on a gentler tone like he's suddenly trying to play the good cop to his wife's bad cop. "I don't think you realize that supporting yourself won't be easy."

This, apparently, is what truly offends Eddie. He finally pulls away from Steve's neck, narrowing his eyes as a cold wind suddenly picks up. "Stevie won't have to support himself because I'll support him. You missed the beautiful and hauntingly romantic vows we just spoke, but Stevie won't be wanting for anything as long as I'm around. And that extends to the people he considers family."

As he speaks, the lamps around them seem to change, casting ghostly shadows over the cemetery. Something whispers in the wind, voice drawling and unintelligible but still threatening. An overbearing pressure begins to cast itself over the area, sparing Steve and Dustin but pressing down relentlessly on their parents. "Now," Eddie says, "unless you've suddenly become interested in the local real estate, I suggest you leave."

"Are you threatening us?" Steve's mother asks.

"Not at all," Eddie replies, his voice low and dark and that honeymoon can't start soon enough, actually. "I'm making a promise."

The wind shifts and howls, kicking up loose dirt and weeds and swirling around Steve's parents. Their faces drain, becoming increasingly pale, and Steve's mother looks ready to try speaking again only for his father to place a hand on her shoulder. At least he's smart enough to know when they've lost.

Steve watches them retreat, the wind following them until they've left the cemetery, and then turns to Eddie. "You look so beautiful when you threaten people," he says, grabbing Eddie's collar and yanking him down into a searing kiss that his husband happily returns.

It doesn't last long before Dustin interrupts, literally shoving himself between the two. "They won't come back, right?" he asks.

"Well, they might," Steve says, reassuringly messing up Dustin's hair, "but they won't be taking you anywhere."

"Yep, you're stuck with us," Eddie adds, picking up Dustin and throwing him over his left shoulder. He grins as Dustin squeaks. "Now, let's go party."

Steve snorts and grabs Eddie's right hand, leaving his left free to hold Dustin, as they walk towards the reception. Now that he's paying attention, he can hear the band playing and laughter-filled conversations filling the silence of the cemetery. He can also smell a whiff of something delicious, his stomach suddenly growling as he realizes how hungry he is.

Thankfully, a plate is shoved into his hand the moment they reach the outskirts of the crowd by a short man with greased-back hair, a wild glint in his eyes, and a cigar hanging from his lips. Next to him, a hand on his shoulder, is a tall and pale woman with blood-red lips and a knowing smile. "There you two are," the man says, removing the cigar as Eddie drops Dustin to the ground and shoves him towards the crowd. "Took you long enough."

Dustin sticks his tongue out at Eddie before running off, leaving them in the dust to join his friends. Steve shakes his head at the kid as Eddie smiles brightly at the two. "There was some trash to take care of," Eddie says, shrugging as he steals a roll from the plate in Steve's hand.

"I assume it's been properly disposed of?" the woman asks, an eyebrow rising slowly.

Eddie shrugs, holding the roll up to Steve's lips so he can take a bite. "For now. Might need to make good on a few promises, though," he says, biting off a piece after Steve.

The man laughs, clapping a hand on Eddie's shoulder. "Just let us know if you need any help, old man," he says, his grin wide and his eyes excited, "I always did love a good hunt."

Steve swallows the bread in his mouth and smiles at the two, finally getting an idea of who they are. "Gomez and Morticia, right?" he asks, his guess confirmed by Gomez's widening grin and Morticia's approving nod. "I've heard a lot about you. Thanks for the cutting from Cleopatra, by the way. Nix has been a great addition to the family."

Morticia straightens slightly (Steve didn't even realize that was possible). "You've named her Nix," she says, nodding once, "Fitting. How's her health?"

"She's gotten big enough to need three pounds of meat per week."

"How wonderful. She's almost matured. You've been taking very good care of her, then."

"Tish does love her plants," Gomez says, placing an arm around her waist and pulling her close in a familiar gesture. Maybe it runs in the family. "She grows the thorniest rose stems, you know."

Steve is about to respond when Eddie lights up, clearly seeing something that Steve doesn't. "Well, Stevie is haunting on the piano, not to mention how well he can swing a bat," he says, his chest puffing out slightly.

"Impressive! Tish is a killer at knitting and keeps her needles incredibly sharp."

"I remember she knit Pubert's onesies," Eddie says, and Steve swears he can hear a young man groan in the distance. "Stevie makes wonderful traps. I never see them coming until I'm hanging from the air and losing my breath."

Ah. Steve suddenly gets it. He looks at Morticia, silently asking if this is common, and her amused smile says it is. "Steve, walk with me while our husbands play together," she says, holding out her hand.

Steve nods and presses a quick kiss to Eddie's cheek before pulling away and offering Morticia his arm. She leads him around the crowd, staying on the outskirts. "I'd like to officially welcome you to the family," she says, his voice steady and reassuring and lingering. "You seem to fit in quite well."

"Oh, uh, thanks," Steve says, feeling that anxiety from before starting to churn in his stomach again. At least it distracts his stomach from the hunger. "This isn't, like, a threatening thing, right?"

"Would you like it to be?"

"Not particularly."

"Then, no. Not for now, at least. I don't see you requiring any threats, though. Everything I've heard about you tells me that you'll have no trouble adjusting to the Munson family and its Addams relatives. Just know that we watch out for our own, dear, and we gladly feast on those who would subdue us for we are always hungry."

Steve nods, finding that this aligns well with everything he's seen from Eddie, Wayne, and El. "I've always wanted a big family," he admits.

Morticia smiles at him, and it feels warm despite her initially cold demeanor. "And now you have one," she says, looking up and waving to someone in the crowd. "Speaking of, I'd like you to meet my children."

Three young adults slip out from the crowd, two boys and one girl. Steve already knows them, and he smiles, the expression only returned by the boys. "Wednesday, Pugsley, and Pubert, right? It's nice to meet you."

"We'll see about that," Wednesday replies, her voice dry and devoid of any inflection.

Pugsley, meanwhile, smiles brightly and claps Steve's shoulder. "Nice to meet you, Steve! Welcome to the family. How do you feel about explosives?"

"Good for some jobs, but lacking subtlety for others."

"I told you," Pubert says, shoving Pugsley aside to stand in front of Steve instead. "What about daggers?"

"Easy to hide but too subtle for some messages."

Pubert frowns slightly at this response but doesn't argue. Wednesday, meanwhile, stares at Steve for a few intense seconds before saying, "What are you afraid of?"

"Eddie being out of sight," Steve replies, not even needing to think of an answer. He glances over to where they left Eddie and Gomez, happy to see his husband is still there. Though, the two seem to have engaged in a sword fight at some point.

"How sickening," Wednesday says.

Steve looks back at her and grins. "Don't be jealous, Wednesday. I'm sure your partner feels the same," he says playfully.

She tenses slightly, seemingly unused to this kind of backtalk, but quickly relaxes. "You're interesting. I'll be keeping in touch." And with that, she turns on her heel and walks back into the crowd.

"Aw, man, she still has my kidney," Pubert says, quickly chasing after her. Pugsley shrugs, looking like he'd rather not be left out, and quickly follows Pubert after waving goodbye to Steve and Morticia.

"They like you," Morticia says, sounding pleased. "You should come visit us after your honeymoon. Where are you planning to go?"

"Paris and Rome. I want to see the catacombs in Paris, and Eddie wants to visit this museum in Rome where all the decorations are made with the bones of monks."

"Oh, how romantic," Morticia says, glancing to the side as the sound of swords crossing grows louder. She waits a few more seconds before saying, her voice staying the same volume as always, "Gomez."

The fight immediately stops, and Gomez seemingly materializes next to Morticia. He takes her hand, pressing kisses along her knuckles and up her arm. "Yes, cara mia?" he asks.

"How long has it been since we danced?"

"Hours," Gomez replies, grinning brightly as he pulls Morticia away and to the dancefloor.

Eddie appears next, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist from behind. "Stevie," he whispers, breath tickling the back of Steve's neck. "We haven't danced, either."

Steve snorts, places his plate on the nearest chair, and turns in Eddie's arms. "Well, lead the way."

With an excited glint in his eyes, Eddie drags Steve to the dancefloor as the band begins to play the waltz. A few other couples have begun dancing together, but they all make room as Eddie leads Steve to the very middle of the floor. He pulls Steve close, one hand on the small of his back and the other holding one of Steve's hands. Their fingers interlock, and Steve lets Eddie lead him around the dancefloor in graceful spins and flourishes.

"So," Eddie says, his voice quiet but immensely clear to Steve as the rest of the world fades away, "other than that brief interruption, how did you like the ceremony?"

"It was beautiful," Steve replies, sliding the hand on Eddie's shoulder to wrap around his neck and playfully tug on a lock of hair. "We should get married again."

"How does next month sound?"

"I was thinking of a wedding in Paris and one in Rome. Just for us, nobody else, with ancient bones as our witness."

"You say the most romantic things," Eddie says, his voice slightly dreamy. "I love you."

The waltz comes to an end as he says this, and Eddie leans down to kiss Steve as they continue dancing through the break in music. Steve smiles, letting his eyes slip shut and trusting Eddie to make sure he won't fall or trip on anything, and pushes his tongue past Eddie's lips.

"I love you, too," Steve whispers when the kiss breaks long enough to allow words. He's barely finished speaking when Eddie pulls him back in, drowning Steve in love and passion and promises of later.

Steve finds he doesn't mind the idea of never surfacing again so long as Eddie's lips never leave his own.

---

Tag List

(Tumblr has a limit, so I couldn't get everyone who's requested a tag, but I did try to get as many as I could)

@estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx, @somegirlsomewhere, @imjust-that-shy, @blaqcats-fics, @littlebluejane, @xoxoladyclara, @halfadoginatank

@pjoneedstherapy, @nocturnalgayboi, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @justforthedead89, @gothwifehotchner, @elizbaehth, @angels-dressed-in-blood, @imfinereallyy, @oile-loves-sharks, @carlprocastinator1000, @stxrcrossed186, @spider-boygirl, @epiclazershark, @7shrewsinatrenchcoat

@perfectlymellowthing, @just-a-tiny-void, @nburkhardt, @nailbatandfreak, @sunfloweringstories, @vampireinthesun, @novelnovella, @bookworm0690, @bestwifehaver, @goosesister, @phantomcat94, @martinskis-lydias, @ghostofyourvampiregf, @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring

@nerdsconquerall, @dontslayfay, @potato-of-the-lord, @suikatto, @deliriousmom, @code-switcher, @lizard-dyk3, @anonymousbandgirl

#addams family steddie #addams family #addams! eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #steddie fluff #addams family au #gomez addams #morticia addams #pugsley addams #wednesday addams #pubert addams #cousin itt #This one took so long to write hfjkds #but I hope you guys like it #I had a lotta fun writing it and love it myself lol

[emby-m]

#lies of p #lies of p fanart #lies of p pinocchio #sophia monad #sophia/p #i am a sophia p/carlo truther #as all who have read my fic on ao3 kknow #engaged to be wed from a young age #this is the most work ive done on a piece of art in quite some time #but its worth it... for themb #p/carlo has two hands #i love both p/sophia and carmeo/pmeo #carlo/p needs a lotta love #imho

[autism-corner]

Ayo look at this loser seeking comfort in fictional demons (its me im the loser)

another re-post (OG on ao3)

just some of the brothers comforting you&me <3

ft. Leviathan, Belphegor, Asmodeus & Beelzebub (200-300 words each)

Leviathan

Once you arrived at his door he could immediately tell something was wrong. It wasn't anything you had said, it's just that you were… a lot more quiet than usual. You were hesitant, and not at all like the human he had grown used to. 

Once the door was opened, you crashed into his arms. You both lay down somewhere, whether that is in his tub or on some splayed out beanbags. You lay curled up to his side, one of his arms over your shoulders. Your face is pressed into his neck, his hand is softly petting and calming you, while soothing words are being spoken by his soft voice. 

Once you've calmed down a bit he’ll ask you what you need, and do those things to the best of his abilities. If it's just him that you need, he will let you lay on his chest, and together you’ll read some fluffy manga. At the end of the night you’ll fall asleep in his arms, and before he also falls asleep he’ll give you some forehead kisses. 

If you approach him about it the next morning he’ll stutter something along the lines: ‘I- I- I mean,,, you would have done the same for me right? I- I- I can some- somewhat understand how you feel… please come to me next time too…’

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

Belphegor

Finally having made it up the stairs of the attic, you open the door to see Belphegor already sleeping on the big bed. You get into the bed, as close to him as possible, and let it all out. Halfway through your rant/emotional breakdown/whatever he’ll likely be awake, but he won't let you notice since you don't really need him to talk right now. He will get closer to you once he realizes the situation, and wrap his arms around you so you’ll be nice, safe and cozy. 

Once you've calmed down and Belphie’s ‘woken up’, you’ll both likely stay in bed for a while. If you're up for it he will get a blanket and a lot of pillows, and lay those out in the observatory for a second cuddle session. Depending on your needs, he’ll let you talk, or he’ll let it be quiet, but it's most likely you’ll just lay together while belphie points at stars and tells their stories.

If you approach him about it later, he’ll likely dismiss it as ‘not that big of a deal’, and ‘you can come to me anytime, life is hard sometimes’ and ‘while I do enjoy cuddling with you, your safety and wellbeing comes first’. Secretly, he's very happy because HE is the one you went to for comfort, and that truly means a lot to him. He is very thankful you can be open to him. 

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

Asmo

Asmo was just doing whatever in his room when he heard you knock. You were the only one that really knocked in this house, so excitedly he skipped over to the door. Upon seeing the state you are currently in, he’ll drag you inside and place you upon his bed, locking the door. This moment will be for the two of you. He’ll lay down next to you and place your head on his chest. While you let out everything you need to let out, he’ll pet your hair and respond to your emotions with quick nods and soothing noises. If the situation you're dealing with contains self-deprecation, he’ll take your head in his hands, and tell you all the things he loves about you. He himself is also way too familiar with those habits, so he's the best at trying to stop yours. 

Once you've calmed down he’ll ask if you want to do a spa day with just him, to help the both of you catch up and relax. You won't have to do anything, asmo says ‘Now, you just sit there and look pretty’, accompanied with a wink. No matter how hard the situation is, asmo will always lift up the mood. Depending on your needs, asmo could either talk your ears off, or will listen carefully to you, but most likely you’ll both be gossiping with eachother, distracting both of you from the reason(s) you’ve come here. 

If you approach him about it later, he’ll cheerfully respond ‘No problem sweetheart, anytime of course!’. You know that you can trust him, and he knows that you trust him. Maybe next time he’s having problems, you’ll help him in turn. In any case, he’ll look forward to hanging out with you again, no matter the circumstances. 

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

Beelzebub

It's not often that you find Beel alone in his room, but you're happy he is this time. He’ll be doing whatever, laying on his bed and as soon as you walk in his protective mode will activate. He doesn't yet know how to handle these situations, but he’s trying his best. He’ll be sat upright with his arms open and inviting, allowing you to take place on his lap. His arms close around you and you can comfortably bury your head in his shoulder or chest to let it all out.  

Once you've calmed down you’ll both lay down, you still curled up by his side, and he’ll listen to you, or continue with whatever he was doing before, leaving you to rest. If his hunger comes up, he’ll carefully nudge you and ask if you’ll come with him to the kitchen. If not, he’ll ask Belphie to bring him some food, but if you're comfortable with it he’ll let you cling to him. On your way to the kitchen one of his brothers might pop up, and he’ll give them a look that could only mean ‘Leave us alone’ , causing you to have some time with Beel alone. While eating with one hand might be hard, he’ll manage if it means it’ll comfort you more. 

If you bring it up to him later, he’ll say ‘It wasn't a problem at all. Do please be careful. I won't mind helping next time, but stay safe, okay?’ He’ll give you a big grin and maybe ruffle your hair a bit. He really cares about you, even if it's hard for him to show it. 

#obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me comfort #obey me x reader #comfy comfy comfy #i wrote this like a year ago so idk wth i was going through but =w=bb #i love these boys a lotta <3 #sillyposting #my work #im reposting my fics bc i finally made my master list and a few of my works were only on ao3 so yay =w=bb #augh

[dapper-lil-arts]

Same anon about the Midnight Sparkle and Nightmare Rarity, imagining them pressed together and giving evil and flirty looks at both Applejack and Sunset, and both of them are screaming internally and red as shit. I am squealing as I write this, help-

Somehow the beefy tops get dommed for once. And in the same way, the beefy tops dont have to hold back anymore. It goes both ways and its wonderfull lmao. I did write a fic that involved my anthros and Midnight and Sunset getting it on. it was fun

#Just saying you oughta checkout my sciset anthro sex fic. Midnight is on it. and shes EAGER. #Its on chapter 2 #and its lovely #i HAVE thought of nightmarity and Applejack anthros getting it on #and concidered drawing it #but its a lotta work and doesnt pay lmao #maybe someday

[candyunicornsateme]

idea where Kenny is desperately trying so hard to confess to Kyle and just say I love you but somehow every time they get interrupted by something or someone and Kenny is a man of very few words and its hard to get alone and eventually Kyle’s on the brink of insanity like “fucking SAY IT KENNY” and violently shakes Kenny so much he doesn’t even hear it clear the first time

#if this is stupid in my defense i am tired and anxious #rimble ramble #south park #my headcanons #k2 #not sure why this came to me just now but i love me a sudden serious #love confession moment but it could be also a lil funny #if we ride tht 'very quiet reserved kenny' interp that i love #to switch to often hhhhhhhhhhhh #this is one where idk wht i'd do with the idea #not enough for a fic but a lotta work for a drawing/comic #I really like to play with an almost shy?? kenny like he literally is so quiet #ANYWAYS my ocd is acting up hard im stressing about fucking rebloging ORDER CAN U STOP BRAIN

[loppiopio]

the chances of the people seeing this aren't super likely so this is highly inefficient but i'm too afraid to approach people personally…. yet i've been burning with the need to express my gratitude for the tags i've received individually somehow and figured, i could do it the way i do best. in the tags 😅

(sorted by most recent) (i capped the limit hard here) (some ✂️✂️ had to be done 😔) (i still like this format a lot though) (might do this again in the future idk would people like that??) (i hope it's not mortifying for anyone……..)

it's sorta the way i like it, indirect and unimposing, even if it's kinda. wieldy. but it's just on my blog so anything goes right? although in saying that, i am open to being imposed on. like if someone wants to talk about aci or something, like other fic?? i'm a big fic fiend. or anything else lol not sure what else you'd wanna chat about since so much of the stuff i've put out is just. about fic. but hey, if you're a person i don't mind being approached :>

(lol the way i've made this like a *throws out a bunch of paper slips* find your's 🎉) (might be obnoxious hm) (sorry...) (find your's if you want though 🫡)

#i said a thing #@glaciesdraco i'm so glad someone is appreciating the brilliance of my shitpost yes i went so hard on that and it's you too?? #i enjoy your ramblings and hcs a lot (if that one gift art based on your hcs wasn't telling) i hope my indirect appreciation can reach you #two years ago for a gift exchange i had [get them drunk] as one of the things on my wishlist and linked your post with it because they're < #@miyukiwynter your tag was fun and cute it made me smile :) oh no the boy! #@spooky-sordid your enthusiasm for the 🥥 post despite zero context is so fun to me i'm happy my niche things connect with you like that :] #@scrambledshizaya oops! all aci posts with even more on the way sorry it's all i got #the energy of your tags is very fun though i hope to bring a little pain with the 📸⚠️ comp and loverboy cringe is so izaya indeed #@gay-deer your all caps enthusiasm is so so sweet to me thank you for loving them!! also you bring fun things to my dash so thanks for that #@vi-138 you haven't said anything so i hope you don't mind.... i've seen you in my notifs a few times and i'm appreciating it very much :> #@fweamy i like your energy and omg you like the way i draw them?? no wayyy i'm so flattered you like my portrayal of them? that's such high #this makes me feel better about my style like actually since i spend a looooot a lotta time on every little thing so it can appeal to me #and i'm not confident at all but i do try very hard to achieve aspects of how i like to see them so i'm glad it seems to resonate with you #i draw all too slowly but you shall be in my thoughts as i fight to deliver more of these scrunkly scrimbos 🫡 #@zamtik you think it's awesome? :0 wow thanks! also thanks for appreciating the 🎀🔪 i made that not a lot of people acknowledge heh #@gay4and2high i like that you acknowledged the content of the fic i love the content of this fic i need to acknowledge it so bad 🗣️ #@stupidusernamepolicy idk if you meant for your words to read like this but i'm still so so flattered by the tags you left on that post 🥺🥺 #idk what you actually think of the fic so i can literally only imagine your enthusiasm for it but i think i feel some of it in those tags 🧠 #and you seem to really like the post in particular so?? thank you c: #@whamss no way are you sure you love my art?? thank you i'm glad you find them cute and see so much personality in them too?? #you pointed out shizuo in particular !! yesss i slaved away soooo tirelessly on him (except i was very tired) i'm glad he is appreciated #his face... it needed to convey so much...... sad puppy dog look #the humouring of izaya's antics that soften him in light bemusement “mouth slightly open probably as close to a smile as it would ever get” #and thank you for enjoying loverboy cringe with me he is exactly that #@soultiio thank youuu i appreciate this sorta connection we have going on where we communicate through tags a little <3 #i like the comments your affection for the boys is very sweet thank you #@pennyloni thanks for the obligatory shizaya reblog #@pineapplething hihi!!! #@demon-of-ikebukuro i take joy in all the appreciation for the comm :> also you have a fic i'd like to try someday bc it looks interesting! #@churroful you haven't said much since but thanks for finding the 🎀🔪 sexy >:D i appreciate you in my notifs and i hope you enjoyed aci!!

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Recently got into a fandom with a whopping *checks notes* 20 works on AO3 and now I'm curious, what's the smallest fandom you've written for?

Anon, the smallest fandoms I have written for had no works until I wrote them.

The Perfect Host (2010) has THREE fics on ao3 that have not been written by me.

There were no Stage Fright (2014) fics until I wrote them, (No gifs online for that movie either, if you see a gif for that movie there is a 99% chance it was made by me and reposted somewhere-) of all the Stage Fright fics on ao3, (that are properly tagged, one author has mistagged some Scooby Door fanfics of Fred and Daphene-) I have written all but TWO of them.

There were no You Might Be The Killer (2018) fics until I wrote them, all but ONE on Ao3 have been written by me.

Club Dread (2004) has literally ONE fic on ao3, no other one's, just mine.

I am in fandoms so small and so obscure that I am the only bitch out here putting in the work.

#Also Anti-Viral doesn't have many #The Craft doesn't have a whole lot either #Most things other than Scream and ANOES that I write for doesn't get a whole lotta love just some fandoms like Re-Ani are a bit more midsiz #In terms of obscure horror fics I suppose #GREAT question Anon #BHF asks

[fluxydrawings]

RAAAAHHHH artfights over o|-< wish i couldve drawn more but my tablet broke for like, the first two weeks LMAO cursed fr,,,

ANYWAY here are my fav attacks i did this year!! so many cool ocs in the world,,,

1.) Fernia by @cute-pluto

2.) Rana by Svana51

3.) Iveraph by FoolishEnder

4.) Ayanami by @shui-jiji

5.) Soleil and Selene by @moonymoss

6.) Acrylic (blue) by @nokmiet and Ten (green) by me

7.) Itena (left) by me and Todd (right) by Echnobi

8.) Mors by @ghostpajamas

#artfight #art fight #artfight 2023 #my art #ocs #fanart #digital art #lineless art my best friend lineless art #i love fuckin around w art styles durin artfight akwerkj this year i did a bit more of my crayon brush lineless style tho #its fun :) #also prob most proud of the Iveraph and the Mors. i Really like how the backround on the soleil n selene one came out tho. #lesbian goddesses <3333 #shout out ta my beloved Zach for the help on both of the pieces with wings KJAWKJERKJ #lifehack: get a friend w wing autism #hadda lotta fun w/ colours for these pieces. i literally Never colour pick i just fuck around n find out akwjerjkwe #anyway HWAHH now that This event is over i gotta fuckin. worry bout the pod fic event im in whose deadline is aug 20th KJAWEKJR #grind never stops...

[hermanunworthy]

hiiii it’s me, blowing you a kiss and bringing you paragraphs on stab wounds <3

there’s a lot to talk to god about. grant isn’t particularly religious. his dad is, and he’s never had a bad experience with religion exactly. they baptized lincoln and they celebrate christmas and easter, but he’s never been the type to pray. you can get a lot of anger out at god yelling at other players online.

he talks to the doodler though. if you give the void a name, you can make it closer to a monster, create something that can be killed. grant believes it is going to kill him first. it’s important that no matter how unfair a fight it is, it is a fight. he used to think it should be comforting, that here was this one thing he couldn’t kill. that was before they had a son. now, it is man-circling-man, grant looking up into the sky every day and remembering when there was an eye to challenge him back.

when grant talks to the doodler, he is talking to something he believes will see the death of him. the others will be the one to kill it, with their magic and fate-twisting cards. it will take him, he’s only human. part of him loves it for that. grant isn’t particularly religious, but this god isn’t particularly holy.

kill me in the morning. I don’t want to live my last day in dread, worried it will be cut off at any moment. for my last day, I want to take in a breath and feel my lungs fully expand. the day before you kill me, I want to not be afraid. I want to feel and for that feeling to just be good. I want to have one moment where I’m laughing, and it’s like there’s a golden ball of light filling me up so completely, the whole world looks bathed in sunlight through my eyes.

I miss the sun.

lark remembers when his mind was his own place. glued at the hip to sparrow, shouting together fighting together looks exchanged so often they may have been swapping eyes entirely, but they were still separate people. then they woke up one morning in an inn and pulled some adult’s robe over themselves, and lark couldn’t say which one of them was on top anymore, who sat on whose shoulders, and it was the strangest experience, to settle into the personhood of a prophecy. it was fun, it was a game, watch the people fight! have everyone else support the battle to come that will make you the bravest heroes! conquer this world and achieve the greatness that hums so close to the surface beneath your skin you can never stay still.

after they became the lord of chaos, they could not move out of each other’s minds. there was a time lark was fifteen when it twisted into a sudden panic, the realization he could not get away. he tried- teenagers want to be independent, to grow up, to be different. this destiny suffocated him. when he was younger he had so much power. he could have done anything. the slant lines narrowed, the church of the doodler chanted, the knife he ended the world with was buried in the same yard as their dog. he would never be anything else. he would never have done anything else. he had to fix it. he had to live like this. he could have done anything and now this was all he would ever do.

lark did not like apologizing. every day he spends alive after what he did to his father, he spends as an apology. he hates apologizing- the shorter, the better. when lark talks to the doodler, he is talking to himself, for being the thing that fucked the universe so spectacularly it tore into two other realms.

I will eat you alive. I have it in me to drive the knife in shallowly, to watch you writhe and rot. it’s you and me at the end of all things. I will kill you. I don’t have a choice. you poisoned everything in my world and swept my childhood up into your apocalypse when I was way too young. you have bred your own enemy. I will watch them bury you in the yard and my father will love you enough to do it beneath the tree. I will kill you with the power you gave me and then you will stop hurting my brother.

I saw what was in you. you never grow up.

anon im gonna be so real w u i woke up at like 3am just now feeling absolutely terrible and when i saw i had a new minific in my inbox it really helped me feel better. ur writing is so brilliant its very inspiring to me esp now that im trying to get back into my own writing

#i love reading these sm theyre like little gifts #idk why theyre being given to me but i greatly appreciate it #i used to be a HUGE huge reader when i was younger (but since fell out of it) so i have a huge appreciation for creative writing #whoever u are writer anon hope ur doing well and keep writing!! u have a lotta talent #and ty for making my night (morning?) better. even though these paragraphs were devastating lmao #dndads #dndads fanfic #dndads fic #writer anon #<- gonna use this tag for these minifics so i can go back and read them again later #siren says #answering asks

[kirayaykimura]

Tiding Over

I don't think you need to read in every lifetime, but this is set in the same, vague universe. Quick primer in case it's not clear in the fic itself: Shirayuki and Obi remember past lives.

Back before it was a cliche, Obi had once made Shirayuki an offer: if they were both still single by the time she was 30, he would marry her. She’d died at 29. Obi had never offered again. 

This wasn’t to say that he stopped trying. There was the time he’d brought her a box of sweets tied with a red ribbon - a local custom that signified an intent to court. Just to make her life easier, he’d promised. He’d known about her thing with Zen and had completely respected it. The courting gesture was there to keep everyone away. If they thought he was serious about marrying her, the other nosy townsfolk might stop setting her up with their sons and nephews. If there was a mild, tiny sliver of hope that she might some day settle for him, no one could prove it. She’d told him to not bother with that sort of thing again; she could handle the matchmaking herself. He should save his coins for girls he actually liked. 

With the distressing privilege of hindsight, he realizes there is something of a pattern here. He tentatively offers up the in vogue gesture of romantic interest for the era - a carved wooden spoon, sticky rice around two red chopsticks, camping (because the Puritans loved being miserable) - and watches as she gently dismisses them. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

The only thing stopping him from bringing it up to apologize and making them both face this thing he’s had for her for centuries is the fact that he’s fairly certain she has never realized the offerings for what they are. That’s not the type of person she is. She’s direct and kind; she wouldn’t leave him dangling because it’s easier than rejecting him outright, nor would she play dumb.

This theory is all but confirmed when he walks in on her being hit on by some frat bro. He misses what the boy originally asks, but he hears Shirayuki say, “Sure, I’ll see if anyone else is free,” as he slips into the lab she’s practically lived in all semester. Apparently he isn’t the only one attempting to lure her away from work. 

Her back is turned to Obi and the boy next to her is completely focused on her, so neither of them notice they’re no longer alone. Which means Obi has the distinct pleasure of hearing the boy say, “I thought it could just be us,” and hearing Shirayuki reply, “Why?” 

The boy must have caught some movement out of the corner of his eye because, instead of answering, he turned to face Obi. 

“Hey,” Obi says with a jaunty wave. “Who’s your new friend, Miss?” 

Shirayuki whips around like she’s excited to see him, notebook forgotten on the work station, and he knows for a fact now that it will never get old watching her look happy to see him. She calls out his name in greeting, and he thinks about how no one has ever said his name quite so well because he’s allowed to be pathetic in his own mind. 

The frat bro says, “Oh,” and then leaves with barely a goodbye. 

“Okay,” Shirayuki says, visibly confused by the abrupt turn of events. “Are we still on for Friday?” 

The boy walks faster. 

“Friday?” Obi asks once he’s gone. 

“He said he wanted to get dinner, but he just left while we were making plans.” 

Obi stifles a laugh and says, “A dinner he wanted to do alone while you wanted to make a group thing?” 

Despite the emphasis on the word alone, it still takes her a moment to connect the dots. Once she does, her eyes widen slightly before the confusion settles back in. Again, she asks, “Why?” 

“Yes, why would a boy not have a crush on a beautiful young woman?” 

“I’m not young.” 

“And yet, you don’t look a day over 900.” 

She gives him a stern look that is rendered essentially useless by the way the corners of her lips tick upward. Instead of giving her a chance to fight him on how at least a third of the school’s population is deeply in love with her at the moment, he tosses her an apple that she just barely manages to catch. 

“Come on,” he says. “I’m dragging you away for Yuzuri’s art show.” 

“She asked us not to come to that.” 

“Which is exactly why we’re going.” 

She holds out for about three seconds before she says, “If you’re sure she won’t mind.” 

“She’ll love it. Now, come on. If we hurry, we can grab something to eat before we go.” 

Shirayuki glances down at the apple she did not ask for and holds it out to him. 

“That’s all yours. To tide you over. You didn’t eat lunch, right?” 

Shirayuki’s stomach growls in answer. 

“Thanks,” she says before taking a bite. 

This time, he doesn’t doubt her obliviousness to his courting gesture. The apple is wildly outdated, was popular on a completely different continent, and his presentation is slightly different than tradition dictates, but that’s okay. She doesn’t have to get it. If she doesn’t realize what he’s doing, he can keep using the gestures as a sort of pressure release for himself. He gets to love her quietly. And that’s enough.

#obiyukiweek23 #day 5: wooing #snow white with the red hair #my fic #it's pretty short but i put it under a read more so that people don't have to scroll past it with extra effort #i wanted to do something with unique courting gestures around the world #unfortunately EVERY article i found mentioned the apple thing #the custom was to take an apple slice or a peeled apple #tuck it in your armpit #and give it to your love #if they ate it you were golden #this was the 19th century so you can imagine the deodorant situation they were working with (they weren't) #lotta stuff about giving sweat to your lover out there... #anyway i made obi not do that lol #personal

[triflesandparsnips]

A whole lot of you are weird about Izzy Hands on this here tumblr dot com -- and I mean that it both directions. There's just a whole lot of... all that, for one dang mid-level antagonist in a capital-r Romance. Which... you know how many of those antagonists end up getting their own romantic storylines? Most of them. Will that happen to Izzy? Idk, man, I just look at narrative patterns.

I think, to a degree, it was a bit of a disservice pretty early on to latch on to him as the only human on a ship full of Muppets. Dude is a full-on Muppet-- he's just a Sam the Eagle, rather than a Gonzo or Piggy. I mean:

He demands people call him Izzy, an objectively stupid name for a middle-aged serious-guy

He stripped a dude on their first encounter instead of just killing him because? Why?

He regularly runs a ship that looks like a 13-yr-old got to buy all their goth birthday party decorations at Hot Topic

Does a stupid weird finger wave at Ed when the British point him out

Izzy's Revenge

He brought up Daddy kink on his own, like wtf, c'mon now

The character's done awful things, absolutely. Because the story needed mirrors of trust violated, safety shattered, etc etc. The narrative trusted Izzy to help drive that part of the overall arc of Stede and Ed's love story.

And the thing is: a defining part of Romance is the Happily Ever After (or the Happily For Now, if you need to keep things riled up across multiple books/stories). That means that unless a character is dead, they have a chance at that HEA-- even if they have to go through absolute shit (or be an absolute shit) before they get to it. That's what makes Romance so great-- it gives all of us the chance to believe that even at our worst, maybe we too can get to a place of love.

So... idk, man. Lot of Izzy hate, lot of Izzy love, a lot of talking at cross-purposes. Critical analysis is great and I love it, but when it starts warping the understanding of story mechanics... that's I think a recipe for a lot of broken hearts and hurt feelings when the canon story eventually progresses and the narrative reveals what genre (with whatever associated tropes and arcs) it's going to ultimately end up being.

#our flag means death #real weird around here to be interested in the character of #Izzy Hands #and how to get to his Romance-genre Redemption #not because I give a shit about *him* #but because I give a shit about *guessing narrative solutions* #and then there's a whooooole lotta discourse about reality and hate and woobifying #while I'm just looking for someone to talk to me about narrative patterns #I read just about aaaaaaall the fic my dudes #steddy hands #the lot #what I *don't* read are the full-on hate fics #or even evil-all-along fics #(I'll read dark shit because I love a good Exploration Of Dark Shit) #but this is a Romance #imo #and therefore I'm working under Romance conventions

[mangosmoothiepussyv3]

ive been getting a lot of fic ideas from music lately

#personal #'only then i am human only then i am clean' wrote a fic abt an oc who due to trauma their magic #makes them have nosebleeds when theyre triggered #the whole group of ocs are alters in a system. i made this world while questioning if i was plural #im not but i love the ocs so i wont stop thinking abt them #its weird that the host and i share a name tho LOL #its complicated #a lotta lore both in canon and in real life LOL

[opens-up-4-nobody]

:-P

#ok listen. bleach has dragged me back in and trying to read bleach fanfics makes me insane #why does no one write ichigo and rukia how i want them to??? what is this??? #like theyre always immediately like full on in love and im like wtf is this? where is the friendship where is the yearning? #these characters are like soul mates wtf r u doing to them? #maybe its just bc i tend to read fics abt ships born of qu33rbating so u have to do more work getting then together? idk im just a lil #asexual weirdo who likes when 2 characters show that they deeply care abt one another thru their actions 🤷‍♂️ and i forgot how quickly #rukia and ichigo r like ready to die for eachother. ugh. i just have a lotta bleach feels #rukia kuchiki #byakuya kuchiki #ichigo kurosaki #bleach #also byakuya as a comedic relief is my fave for the same reason dumbass comedic relief neji is my fave

[mspaint-turtles]

also i've watched more of 2012 in case any of u were wondering <3 i think im on episode 18 ^-^

#ALSO no spoilerssss pls thank you!!! #i obvs havent actively avoided them while being in this fandom ive seen a bit #and lord knows the amount of spoilers a man can get from reading the crossover fics #BUT id prefer to at least go in even a little SMIDGEN bit blind ^-^ #LOVE U GUYS THO ! having a lotta fun in this fandom! :3