quirkyfandomurl

[quirkyfandomurl]

team team and frankly all of you need to knock it off because dadvid is the only reason this dumbass show survived past it’s prime (the prime being dadvid’s relevancy)

[quirkyfandomurl]

allergies: ask him

[quirkyfandomurl]

max camp camp the friendless loser that you are

[quirkyfandomurl]

let’s watch my all time favorite camp camp bluray commentary clip.. together!

[quirkyfandomurl]

what ever

[quirkyfandomurl]

.

[quirkyfandomurl]

hello my dear friend user mrhunnynuts on tumblr dot com if u could please draw david taking care of sick max in a sweet dadvid way i would literally do triple flips in the air thank you

hello my dear friend user parentsday…. i fear it’s joever for me if i ever draw them again…..

[quirkyfandomurl]

Gonna get shot for saying this but. Why did they talk about Jeremy Fartz in that QnA so much? Hes a gag character that appeared in a few episodes. Theres not that much to him. Why are we spending so much of our time on him

[quirkyfandomurl]

youre offline because you have an irl life and miss one load bearing post on here and all of a sudden you dont understand any of the vagues on your dash for the next week

[quirkyfandomurl]

just sticking to canon(ish)

DADVID WEEK DAY 3: past/future

i didn’t wanna try and imagine what a teenage max was or draw davey so heres this instead

i like to imagine that both of them would be a bit fucked by seeing their future selves in the show - tried to visually match the whole “you’ve changed” thing w/ dirtier clothes & more muddy colors

[quirkyfandomurl]

Dadvid Week Day 4!

Domestic

I like to think that Max is pretty good at sewing due to needing to keep Mr. Honeynuts repaired after all this time :)

[quirkyfandomurl]

dadvid week 2025

day 2: love language/ physical affection

words of affirmation

@dadvidweek

[quirkyfandomurl]

My entry for day 3: past/future. The demons of first person and present tense got me. I think it works for this story. Wasn't quite sure how to interpret the prompt, so I went for something a little abstract. Might be a little ooc and weirdly written, but hey, I had fun

-----

Title: Waiting for the Shoe to Drop

Word count: ~1k

Summary: Max gets sent to the principal's office for getting in a fight. David gets called in. Max thinks he'll be in big trouble, but things don't quite how he thought.

-----

Of course this would happen to me. Not even a month at my new school, and some kid already picked a fight. And of course, I have to take the blame. Because I always fucking have to.

That stupid clock keeps ticking that stupid fucking principal slamming his shitty keyboard. Those sounds are supposed to be quiet, but no. Not now. Of course not now. I just can't have a little fucking quiet.

If only David would get here already. What's taking him so damn long? We live a block away for Christ's sake. I know how long the drive is. It's six minutes, eight when traffic is heavy. I thought David didn't have work today.

Fuck. Wait, does he work? Shit, now I'll really be in for it. Getting a call from the principal's office less than a month from the start of school, and while he's working. Great. Just great. As if this day couldn't get worse.

Shit- just the phone. God, do they always ring that loud?

“Hello? Ah, yes.” Why is he looking at me? “Yes, you can send him in.” Oh fuck.

“Come in.” Shit, David's coming. If I don't look at him, he can't get mad. “You must be Mr. Greenwood.”

“Yep, sure am!” Why does he sound so fucking cheery?

“Are you aware of the incident that happened?” Just call it a fucking fight.

“Well, I heard my Max-” My? “-got in a little scuffle.”

“Mr. Greenwood, it was more than a little scuffle. There was bodily harm done.”

“Oh no! Max, are you okay?” Just don't look at him.

“Um- yeah.”

“Your son is fine. It's the other boy who was hurt.” Yeah, cause he fucking started it.

“Oh?” And now the cheery facade has dropped. At least he's not pretending to be fucking sunshine and rainbows.

“Your son bit him.” Cause he put his fucking hand in my face! Great, now David looks all shocked and dismayed. Fucking great.

“Bit him? Why?” Don't look at him.

“The other boy said he was asking him about his family.” Oh really, asking? That's fucking rich.

“Max, what happened?” Don't look. Just shrug.

“He hasn't told us any conflicting information, so we have to assume that's what's happened.” Paperwork? What, are they gonna fucking sue me? “The parents agreed not to press charges, but a punishment has to be issued. Max will be suspended for three days.”

“Three d- Alright, well, we can do that.” Don't look.

“Good. I would recommend you have a talk with him.” God, not a talk.

“Don't worry, sir, we'll have a discussion.” Yeah, a totally one-sided discussion.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice.”

“Of course!” A handshake and everything is fucking fine I guess.

Now that asshole is looking at me. “I trust I won't see you up here again.” Just nod. “Good. You are free to go home.”

God, don't flinch. That's fucking weird, he'll get more mad if you do that. He just stood up. “Max? Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well, let's head home.” Keep a distance, but not too much. Keep your head down. Don't walk too loud- Shit, he had to hold the door for me. Hurry through.

“Max, are you sure you're okay?” Fuck, I made eye contact.

“Yeah.” That wasn't the answer he was looking for. Too late to backtrack.

Wait for the door to unlock. Don't fucking slam it. Can't give David more shit to freak out at me over. Brace yourself. Any second now. He's gonna blow.

He's starting the car. Great, so he's gonna freak on the road. Very safe. And with music on. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

We're almost home. He's sure taking his sweet fucking time. Really wants to let it fester. God, I wish he just did this in the parking lot. Gotten that shit over and done with. It would've sucked, but it would suck less. At least there wouldn't be this pit in my stomach.

Okay, so he's parking. Good, we won't fucking crash.

“Max, we're home.” I wish we crashed.

Get out. Do not slam the door. Follow him in. Don't make him hold the door.

“Let's sit in the living room.” Great, he wants me right next to him. Don't have a choice.

“What happened at school?” Why is he talking to me like some sort of scared kitten?

“I bit a kid.” Keep to the story cause that was already set in fucking stone.

“Why though?” What do you mean ‘why’? You fucking know.

“Principal told you.”

“But I want to hear your side of the story.” He has to be playing some fucking trick I can't smell.

“Kid was asking about my family. I bit him.”

“I feel like there's something missing.”

Okay, fine. He won't let this go. Whatever. I can take whatever he's planning. "He was spewing bullshit about my family. Stuck his damn finger in my face. Don't know what he thought would fucking happen."

Why is he looking at me with that sad fucking look? He's supposed to be mad. "Oh, Max. I'm sorry." Sorry? The hell is he talking about? "He shouldn't have done that, but-" Ah. Here comes the kicker. "-there are other ways to solve these problems. You could've told your teacher."

Ha. Very funny. "Like she would listen…"

"If she won't listen then you can call me."

What? "But you have other shit to do."

"Nothing is more important to me than you, Max."

"Hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you can call me anytime." He's smiling.

"You're being nice." His turn to be confused, I guess.

"Well… that's what parents are supposed to do."

"Sure, but I bit a kid. You're supposed to be yelling at me or some shit."

"You don't need to be yelled at. That won't help anything."

"I mean, yeah, but that didn't mean that wasn't the routine."

"You can break routine."

"...so I'm just… off the hook?"

"Not entirely. You and I have a kitchen to clean up."

"That's it?"

"Yep, that's it."

"Oh. Um, yeah. I can do that."

[quirkyfandomurl]

dadvid week day 3

past

[quirkyfandomurl]

#DADVIDWEEK2025 !!1!1! DAY 3 ⛺️🏕️

prompt : past/future !

apologies for this day being late i was busy todayy

[quirkyfandomurl]

Even more late than last time, but here's my entry for day 2: love language. This ones a shorter one

-----

Title: So You Think You Can Cook

Word count: ~700

Summary: David tries to cook for Max. Max tries to cook for David. They both suck at it.

-----

David had decided he wanted to do something special for Max. The end of quarter report card had come and he hadn't failed a single class! That was cause for celebration.

He knew Max liked chicken. It was something that was mentioned offhandedly, but something David took to heart. Today, he was going to make his boy his favorite meat.

~*~

The chicken splintered under the pressure of Max's fork. The knife struggled to tear through the slab. Halfway through the meat, it tore off in a chunk. Not a clean cut, but a rip. Max's upper lip curled into a disgusted sneer.

"What the hell did you do to this?" he demanded.

David's brow furrowed with confusion. "I cooked it."

"For what, ten hours? This thing is dry as hell," Max said.

"It was only twenty-five minutes,” David said. Green eyes bugged at him from across the table, Max sputtering on his water.

He leaned forward. "Twenty-five minutes? For three chicken strips?!”

"Well, I read that you can get salmonella from undercooked chicken and I didn't want anyone getting sick-"

"Jesus Christ, there's a way to do that without fucking mummifying the thing." Max covered his face with his hands. “Have you ever had a cooking lesson?”

“Well, not professionally, but my mom taught me a few things!” David said with a smile.

“She did a shit job.” David gasped. Max got up from his chair. “Lemme show you.”

“But Max, you're not old en-”

Max rolled his eyes. “I'm not four, I won't burn myself.” He opened the fridge. In the meat drawer, there was a bag of leftover uncooked chicken strips. He took them out and put them in the pan still on the stove. “First, you gotta season them. Where are your spices?”

“In the cabinet by the fridge, though I don't have that many.”

“I'm sure I can make it work.” Max tried to climb the counter, but David picked him up and set him on a chair he pushed up to the cabinet.

“Salt, pepper, thyme, cinnamon… Yeah, that can do something.” Max thoroughly dusted the chicken with all of the spices.

“Are you sure you know what you're doing?” David asked, fretfully wringing his hands.

“Of course I do,” Max said. “Now, cook it.” He turned the dial up to high. “You gotta do it on high so the inside stays soft, but the outside develops a nice crust.”

“Max, I'm pretty sure that's for steak.”

He shrugged. “Steak, chicken; same fucking thing.”

“It really isn't. See, you can eat beef raw, but chicken needs to be fully cooked to be safe,” David said, emphasizing his point with his index finger.

Max groaned. “God, always about that safety shit. It'll be fine.” He tried to slide a spatula under one of the pieces of chicken. It wouldn't budge. With a few forceful shoves, it came up with a sound like skin peeling from a leather seat. David sharply inhaled.

“It's supposed to look like this,” Max said quickly. He repeated the process for all of the meat. David's grimace deepened with each flip.

“Any second and…” Max watched the chicken bubble and spit. “Done!” He grabbed the plates from the table and placed food on each of them. He carried his back to his seat.

David took his own. The half burnt meat sat menacingly on his plate. He flipped it so the burnt side was hidden from view. With a deep breath he cut into the meat. The first half inch was a normal white, but then the treacherous pink revealed itself. He set down his utensils.

“Max, this is raw,” he said.

“You're just being a baby,” the boy said. He stuck his fork into his chicken and took a bite. As soon as he started chewing, his expression soured. He spat it out with a deep frown. “It's raw. And tastes like shit.”

David offered him an encouraging smile. “Hey, at least you tried!”

“I guess…” Max muttered, slumping in his chair.

David thought for a moment. “How about we order some delivery? Does that sound good?”

Max's frown lifted a little. “Sounds better than this.

[quirkyfandomurl]

Please dont kill them theyre all i have left of my late extended family