Hell to the Righteous Ones @danielcooperrp - Tumblr Blog

Shake the House Down

“It’s a party.”

“I know that.”

“Really? Because the way you’re pacing suggests you think you’re headed for a firing squad.”

Drew makes a face at his boyfriend, who is lounging languidly on Drew’s bed. Drew, as Xander astutely noted, is pacing a line from the door to the window, wringing his hands. “Is it a big party?”

Xander tosses a hockey puck up into the air and catches it with a nonchalance that only exacerbates Drew’s anxiety. “Delta Lambda Phi can usually pull a crowd. It’s the queer frat, so it’ll probably pull people from the other universities in town.”

There is some comfort in knowing that the party Xander wants them to go to is being thrown by a queer fraternity. When Drew thinks “frat bro,” he doesn’t exactly think of friends. And Drew grew up in queer spaces, raised by queer parents—a house full of people like him should be fine.

He stops his pacing to look at Xander. “Do you...never mind.” He starts pacing again.

“Ah ah ah.” Xander hauls himself off of the bed to stand in front of Drew. Drew is actually only an inch shorter than his boyfriend, but because Xander is so much larger, the height difference feels much more dramatic. “Talk to me, Cooper. What is your brain whizzing about?”

“Well...” Drew doesn’t meet his gaze. “Do you know a lot of people who are going to be there?”

“Uh, sure, I guess. Some people from Pride, this very funny lesbian from my microeconomics class, and a bunch of people from the frat...”

“No, I mean...you know. Exes.”

There’s a pause, and then Xander bursts out laughing. “Cooper...” Xander wraps his arms around Drew. Warmth floods Drew’s body, right down to his toes. “You are worrying for nothing. I’m excited for everyone to meet you, my very smart, very sexy, very silly boyfriend. Will some of my exes be there? Maybe. I don’t know and I don’t care. I’m there with you. If you’ll go with me.”

Drew nods into his chest. Then he looks up. “Just promise not to make out with some guy in the bathroom.”

“Mmm, no shot.” Drew’s eyebrows furrow. “I am definitely making out with at least one guy while I’m there.” Then he grins and presses his lips to Drew’s.

#v1 #drabble #drew #xander #this is all i do now #i just write drabbles of drew and xander

Game Plan

this takes place sometime after this drabble

“I need you to teach me everything about football.”

Anna and Aidan sit on the twins’ couch, watching their brother jitter nervously before them. Anna squints, tilts her head, and says to her sister, “Hm...what do we think, LMD?”

“Skrull.”

“Stress-induced mania?”

Drew flaps his hands nervously. “Shut up! Xander wants me to go to the game this Saturday and I don’t know anything! He’s going to be so disappointed!”

“D, he’s, like, met you, right?” Aidan asks.

“For once in your life, Aidan—”

“What I mean is, he knows that you know nothing about football, doesn’t he?”

“I mean, sure.”

“And he wants to date you anyway.”

“Yeah.”

“Then please explain the problem.”

#drabble #v1 #anna #aidan #drew #xander #this is now a drew/xander stan account #do not ask me to write or think about literally anything else ever again

We Two Boys Together Clinging

Halfway through 19th Century American Poetry and Drew has a sensation with which he is all too familiar: eyes boring into the back of head. It doesn't matter how many times he's been gawked at in a restaurant or in the allergy aisle of CVS (hay fever is a bitch), the feeling of the little hairs on the back of his neck standing up never fails to make him want to slink into a hole and die. He tries to ignore it, tries to focus all of his attention on the professor, who is droning on about the difference between various editions of Leaves of Grass, but that only lasts so long. Eventually, he caves, and he turns to look.

He's not shocked when the dark eyes watching him quickly dart away—people are often abashed when they get caught staring—but it is a surprise when, a few moments later, they return to meet his. The face they belong to is handsome, warm, dark skin, a strong jaw, a slightly crooked nose that suggests some kind of trouble, and—oh. Two rows of perfect white teeth that he sees now because the face is grinning at him, an inviting, dangerous grin, and now Drew's the one looking away, his own cheeks glowing red. His eyes burn holes in his notebook—he hasn't written a word in so long, he'll have to research this edition issue on his own later—and the other guy's eyes burn holes in his skull.

Why is he looking at him like that? Drew hasn't said a thing all class, not that any of them would be able to get a word in edgewise. His eyes dart down to check his outfit; a little schnerdy, sure, but nothing that stands out in a Harvard classroom. He risks it again; a quick look back, and that smile is still waiting for him, this time a little softer, like he's happy he keeps getting caught.

By the time class ends, Drew is a sweaty mess. He has no idea what the professor said for the last half of that lecture, but he's not going to stick around to ask. He tosses his notebook and his copy of Whitman into his satchel and slides into the mass exodus from the room. He lets himself be carried toward the building exit by the river of hungry undergrads, hoping that he avoids whatever situation was brewing behind him in class, but the river comes to a screeching halt when everyone notices that it's pouring buckets outside. Those smart enough to plan ahead whip out their umbrellas and leave, and some who don't have any other choice lower their heads and shoulders as though preparing to take a charging bull head on and foray bravely into the downpour.

Drew doesn't have another class for forty-five minutes, and even though he was planning on getting lunch in the interim, he really doesn't want to get this sweater wet, so he decides to duck into an alcove and wait it out. He pulls out his phone, Googles the information he thinks he missed in class, and is halfway through an Encyclopedia Britannica article when someone clears their throat. He looks up and blinks owlishly. It's the teeth.

"Hi," the teeth say. "I'm Xander."

#drabble #v1 #drew #xander #thenamesallison #i................spent hours on this #i did nothing today #where did this even come from wtf

//might fuck around and come back...haha jk.........................unless?

#mun

Waiting Game

some more early!bradleycooper because i wanna write but i don’t know how to write anything else lol

The bathroom floor is making his ass hurt. He’s been sitting here for a couple of minutes now, staring at the back of the door, where his towel and hers vie for space on the hook. She left as soon as she was done, not even bothering with the doors—”I just need to clear my head,” she had said, before diving out his bedroom window.

So he sits alone, staring at the door instead of the thin piece of plastic on the counter. He didn’t set an alarm, and he lost count in his head after about forty seconds, so he’s planning on waiting to check until a limb goes to sleep. Or until she comes back. Whichever comes first.

It’s not that they weren’t careful. Of course they were careful. Daniel has years of experience in being too careful and not nearly careful enough, and he knows that he and Ally have been careful. But he is a man of science, and he knows that the arc of the universe bends toward entropy, and if there’s anything that would introduce chaos into their lives, it’s this. The wait. The question. The doubt.

Weirdly, it’s his dad he can’t stop thinking about. What he’ll say when he finds out—okay, there’s no when here. Right now, it’s Schrödinger’s pregnancy test; their lives are only turned upside-down if they are observed to be that way.

But what would he say, given one of two options? It was his mom who always wanted him to have the normal life, friends and lovers and a family of his own. His dad was happy to define success in far more analytical terms, and Daniel was happy to fall somewhere in the middle. But now this. Him, not even a year into this relationship, and her, a mutant superhero. He’s sure his dad would have a lot to say, or perhaps nothing at all, and Daniel isn’t sure what’s worse.

And then there’s him. It’s not that he doesn’t want kids—in fact quite the opposite; he always imagined a family, somewhere off in the dreamy someday. And it’s definitely not that he doesn’t want them with her; it worried him, at first, how fast their lives slotted together, how easily, but now it’s become as natural to him as sunrise. It’s the now of it all, the timing. She’s still in school, and he’s still trying to piece together the shatters of his life. A baby, right now, a living, breathing, screaming thing, an exercise in entropy in their already chaotic lives—how would they even manage it?

And yet. And yet. As soon as she came to him, some unreadable expression on her face—”I’m late”—he couldn’t breathe for the want of it. It’s so stupid, he’s so stupid, but every atom in his body is vibrating on one frequency: family, family, family. It’s the ringing in his ears, the goosebumps on his arms—he wants this, and that scares him far more than any answer a $20 pregnancy test can give him.

His left leg is asleep, and he can’t hear the telltale sound of a flier at the window. He shoves himself off of the floor; he has to find out if this cat is alive or not.

One would think that these modern tests’ clear answers, a word spelled out in thick, black letters, would be more of a relief than the muddled guesswork of hazy pink lines. But in reality, seeing the truth laid out so plainly—Not Pregnant—feels like a kick in the gut. But he is a man of science, and if there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s accepting the reality of things, no matter how they make him feel.

He doesn’t know what she is hoping for, if she’s hoping for anything at all. He doesn’t know how to present the news, whenever she returns. So he takes the plastic stick off of the counter, cradled between his fingers, and carries it into his bedroom, where he sits on the edge of his bed, stares at the open window, and waits.

#thenamesallison #v1 #this doesn't have be canon or anything but yeah this literally came to me in the middle of the night #drabble

Scheduling Conflicts

a surprise early!bradleycooper drabble to remind you that i am not in fact dead

“Hey!” Daniel catches Ally by the waist and spins her around. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” It feels a bit strange, kissing her in the middle of one of MIT’s myriad courtyards in the middle of the day, but he hasn’t seen her in days, and there’s only so much restraint he can ask of himself.

And of her, too, apparently—she kisses him back with an enthusiasm that nearly knocks him off feet. When she’s done, she’s smiling a smile that stutters his heart. “Hey. I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Just for a little bit,” he replies. “I’ve got a meeting with a friend in the chemistry department. I told her I’d take a look at her centrifuge.”

Ally rolls her eyes. “Ugh, if I a dollar for every time I told a guy to come take a look at my ‘centrifuge’...”

Daniel laughs. “I shouldn’t be more than an hour or so. Coffee after?”

Wrinkling her nose, Ally says, “Can’t. Physics class. Attendance mandatory. But I could do lunch tomorrow! Around one?”

“We’re running tests all day tomorrow. I’ll probably be eating out of flasks. Maybe a late dinner?”

Ally groans. “I have training right after my afternoon class, and then a late-night study group for a calculus test.”

“Okay...but you’ll come over Friday night, right? Stay the night with me...?” He runs his fingers up her spine, enjoys the shiver that earns him.

“I—don’t play dirty. Tony asked if I could come to New York. Some celebration thing, a dinner, maybe for Pepper? Honestly, my brain is so fried this semester I can barely remember my own name.”

Daniel cocks his head. “Are we...bad at this?”

Ally snorts and tips her forehead to his chest. “I think we may be really bad at this.”

He presses a kiss to the crown of her head. She smells so good, like home. He wraps his arms around her and rubs a hand up and down her back. “Alright, Sunday. I don’t care what kind of classwork you have or how much the lab is hounding me to go in. You’re coming to my place and we’re ordering food and we’re going to fall asleep in front of the TV.”

Ally tilts her head up. “Oh god, that is my love language.” She presses her lips to his. “But you are not getting out of a lunch on campus with me. I need to show you off before all my friends become convinced that my hot older boyfriend is made-up.”

“Sure,” Daniel retorts, “you get to brag about your hot older boyfriend, but I say I’m dating a sexy young co-ed and all of a sudden Olivia Benson has a few questions for me.”

“You think I’m sexy?” Ally has a dangerously playful glint in her eye.

“Well, I would if I ever got to see you.” Daniel places a hand on either side of her face. “We’re gonna figure this out, Ally Bradley, because there is no way in hell I’m letting someone like you slip through my fingers.” He kisses her once, then again, soft, slow, like the world has infinite seconds to spare them.

“Go on,” Ally says reluctantly, pulling him closer by a belt loop before nudging him away. “Before I do something that would definitely make it to a tabloid cover.”

One last kiss, and a parting “I love you!” and Daniel leaves her once more, lost in a sea of students.

#drabble #thenamesallison #v1 #surprise bitch #bet you thought you'd seen the last of me

//oh shit it’s daniel and anna’s birthdays y’all

#daniel 31 #anna 1 #mun #surprise bitch #bet you thought you'd see the last of me

danielcooperrp

among us but as your rp character

danielcooperrp

i have no recollection of posting this but i’m also not against the idea

among us but as your rp character

thenamesallison:

It was almost scary how on the same page Ally and Daniel seem to be all the time, but as he lifts up The Greatest Showman DVD case it’s like he reads her mind. “The Greatest Showman! Did I ever mention to you that I want to try that dance they do on the rooftop? Because I do.” Ally lifts Anna into her arms and starts to waltz around their bedroom, humming the tune of A Million Dreams. “You wanna watch The Greatest Showman, baby?” Anna coos and Ally nods. “Anna agrees. Let’s do it.”

Daniel snorts. “You can try the rooftop dance. Not all of us can fly back up when we fall off.” He puts the DVD in and then hops back into bed, snuggling up close to his wife and daughter. As the movie begins, he says to Ally, “Just remember, yes you married a Hydra man, but you could have married a circus owner, so really, you lucked out.”

#thenamesallison #v1 #anna

hailesteinfeld

#ally

richietoaster

Are you a “can’t write dialogue” writer or a “can’t describe anything” writer

#mun #well now that i know i have aphantasia i know why i am extremely the latter

thenamesallison:

When Daniel gets there he is greeted with the sight of his wife and daughter sitting on a red-and-white checkered picnic blanket, the quintessential basket holding down a corner and plates of food already set up in the center. Ally lifts Anna’s chubby, little arm in a wave and the baby coos happily when she sees her dad approaching.

The real surprise, however, is the man sitting next to her. Julian Edelman–unfortunately with his overgrown playoff/depression beard fully intact–is there with his own daughter in his lap; she was a couple years older than Anna, but that didn’t stop the two from seemingly getting along. Ally’s grinning from ear to ear, already buzzing as she waits for Daniel to spot one of his favorite football players of all time. “Happy Father’s Day!”

Daniel curves around the tree to see their picnic blanket, laden with all their favorite breakfast foods, and starts to speak. “Aw babe, I—”

Then he freezes. He’d know that beard anywhere. “Holy shit,” he breathes, completely forgetting the two young kids in front of him. “Holy shit.”

“Hey man!” Julian Edelman—Julian Edelman!—lets his daughter crawl off of his lap so he can stand. He holds out his hand for Daniel to shake, which he does, aggressively and enthusiastically. “Nice to meet you!”

Daniel lets out a strangled, high-pitched laugh that he fails to cover with a cough. “Yeah man, I mean—wow. Incredible to meet you. I mean—fuck.” Daniel finally remembers to let go of his hands, and the two men sits across from each other at opposite ends of the blanket, with Ally and the girls in the middle. To give his shaking hands something to do, Daniel scoops Anna up from where she’s trying to shove grapes into her mouth and kisses her cheek. He then leans over and gives Ally a hard, excited kiss. “Wow.”

#thenamesallison #v1 #father's day 2k20 #i mean what the fuck #truly

huntingbounties:

“Stupid, so fucking stupid,” he cursed, grabbing at the tear at the top of his sleeve on his suit jacket. “Can’t keep fighting in my work clothes, dammit.” Releasing the fabric, Roman sighed and pinched his nose as he walked along the sidewalk. His apartment was a number of blocks away so he had time to calm down before he’d have to sew his clothes back up.

His steps came to a quiet stop as he heard the subtle shuffling of two bodies. There was a struggle in an alleyway, and that was a sound he was too used to looking out for. Roman eased an eye around the corner only to see the mugging taking place. He grit his teeth as he tried to think whether it was worth stopping or not as if he would even choose the latter, but then his eyes darted to the figure whose face was showing.

His hands turned to bricks. Roman set his sights on the hooded figure as his face turned to a heavy snarl.

In a moment’s notice, Roman managed to grab the back of the man’s collar and sling him away from Daniel to make sure he wasn’t in any danger before slinging a hard left across the mugger’s face.

It just barely missed as he saw the switchblade jolt towards his abdomen. Roman was quick to grab the wrist as he snarled. His grip tightened and tightened as the dull tone of cracking came from the arm along with the wails of the attacker.

Roman made sure to land his heavy left strike across the man’s jaw once, twice, three times until his target was slouching on the ground without a word.

“Stupid fucker,” he spat, releasing the crunched wrist. His temper slowly simmered as he remembered just why he’d jumped in in the first place. He tried to calm his voice in an attempt to sound more natural as he checked on Daniel.

“You okay, mate? He hurt you?”

Things happen very quickly. There’s a scuffle—is it him? is he scuffling?—and then the blade threatening his liver is gone, and he blinks rapidly, trying to make sense of the senseless in the dark. It isn’t until a surprisingly familiar voice cuts through the alley that he lets out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Holy shit.” That comes accompanied with a noise, one he couldn’t begin to describe. “Jesus Christ.”

The moment of relief, of understanding that the danger has passed, is fleeting, as the throbbing in his head intensifies. “Ow.” He presses a palm to the back of his skull, which only makes the issue worse. He starts to slide down the brick wall. “Oh no.” He catches himself with something akin to a laugh. “Hey, man. Real good to see you. Your timing is...impeccable.” He eyes the lumpy form of his mugger on the ground. “Is he...okay?”

#huntingbounties #v?#the jj bittenbinder school of survival

talktoten-a-deactivated20240813

friendly reminder that I’m comfortable with MINOR godmodding if:

it’s genuinely in the interests of advancing plot (e.g. ‘Pass the screwdriver?’ and you can assume my muse passes the screwdriver over, or even just that your muse ended up with the screwdriver one way or another, without having to stop the reply altogether for my interjection)

it’s NOT my muse’s dialogue, inner or outer

it’s REASONABLE for my muse (e.g. if they’ve already made it quite clear the screwdriver is a sentimentally precious family heirloom or something, then the screwdriver might not reasonably change hands)

the reply isn’t solely about my muse’s actions, thoughts or feelings, but rather is about your muse, with reference to mine

you are willing to accept criticism & critique and change the reply if I can’t reasonably see my muse doing that

roleplaying, for me, is about exploring characters and worlds through story. Interaction with both the muse and the world, then, is vital, and I do not mind sacrificing a small thing from one to significantly advance the other. It’s always a good idea to talk to me if you’re uncertain and it will be easier once we know each other better, but I just wanted to put this out there so you lot know what I’m comfortable with. There’s a lot of ‘no godmodding whatsoever!!’ going around in this community and obviously, with big things, it’s a no-go – but I’m still more interested in the story.

#mun

toxicrobotyaoi

What Would Your OC Do?

(send a colour to ask the question)

scarlet - What would your OC do if they found a mysterious sack of money just left unattended?

amber - What would your OC do if they found out their significant other(s) are cheating on them?

honey - What would your OC do if they lost a treasured possesion? Imagine that there is no way this item could be replaced or bought again, that it is 100% gone forever and they can’t get it back.

seafoam - What would your OC do if they ever got stranded somewhere or lost? They have only a few basic supplies with them and have no idea where they are and are completely alone with only themself to rely on.

cerulean - What would your OC do if time suddenly froze only for them?

lilac - What would your OC do if they found a baby abandoned on their doorstep in the middle of the night?

peach - What would your OC do if someone confessed their love to them? *bonus* asker can specify who if they’d like to confess to the OC!

pearl - What would your OC do if a natural disaster hit their home? What would they do in the aftermath?

chocolate - What would your OC do if they were forced to sacrafice one of their most beloved people to save another of their beloved people? Only one can survive.

pitch - What woukd your OC do if they were being interrogated for valube information? *bonus* What would they do if this interrogation turned down a darker road e.g torture?

#ask meme

Tagged by: @huntingbounties

Tagging: @thenamesallison @battcries-included and whoever else wants to do it!

Spell out your URL with song titles and tag 10 (or more) people.

Do Ya Think I’m Sexy? - Rod Stewart

Avalanche - Michelle Chamuel & Arjun Singh

No Scrubs - TLC

It Gets Funkier III - Vulfpeck

Ease My Mind - Hayley Kiyoko

L’estate sta finendo - Righiera

Country Backroads - Theo Katzman

Out Tonight - Rent Original Motion Picture Cast

One Fine Day - The Chiffons

Part of Your World - Jodi Benson

Everytime - Ariana Grande

Rooting for You (Demo) - London Grammar

Right To Be Wrong - Joss Stone

Permafrost - Laurena Segura

#mun #glad i gave daniel my eclectic taste in music bc realizing how disjoined my itunes is was hilarious #*disjointed

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