#I’m honestly torn I have so much love in my heart for all of them

[megaera-of-pigeon]

Ok I’m guessing the answer will be neither actually but which would be more fun to set the open world game in, year 680 with the LN characters or year 0 with the SN characters 🤔

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

TWST boys with a Diana! Reader?

The reader's a really and I mean REALLY popular and a captivating woman from Siodonna, many rumours were spreading of a beauty from Siodonna yet the TWST boys decided to ignore the rumours, taking them as only bluffs until they met the reader performing in the streets for the poor children. The boys quickly fell head over heels for they're kind nature, and alluring looks. The way those crystal like (Colour) eyes gaze into theirs sending their hearts pounding again their chest. Being lucky enough to marry the woman of their dreams was a big accomplishment but they're happiness was short lived when they found out the risk of the reader dying during childbirth, the TWST boys being selfish asked her to choose them over the child yet the reader didn't have the heart to do so and decided to give her life for the child, only doing as much as witnessing how they're child grew as a wandering spirit and visiting them in their dreams to interact with they're child. How would the guys react when their child(or children) mentioning they're mother's name when they've actually never met or heard of her?? <3

- M. Draconia ; V. Schoenheit ; R. Rosehearts ; L. Kingscholar ; I. Shroud ; L. Vanrouge

"I'm sorry for not choosing you, but I couldn't bare giving it up ( sacrificing an innocent life) either..."

- (Name)

SORRY IT'S BAD, I'M RUSHING THIS 😭😭

Mentioning Your Name | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Its an average day your child casually mentions some advice you gave. It takes them off guard and the problem with lovers as in love as they are suffering from your loss–this can be received very differently:

Malleus Draconia 

“What did you say?”

“I said (Y/n) told me I should try harder to talk to you because your socially immature.”

“....when…when did they say this?”

“In my dream last night, I asked how I was supposed to get you to smile at me and they told me to be ins-st-i-dent?”

He remembers what you said to comfort him before the birth

And honestly if it hadn’t been for that and this child having your smile

He would’ve smited him long ago

But to hear that you’re still here in some capacity

He smiles more 

Speaking into the quiet of the room 

Practically serenading your lingering spirit

“Thats…just like them…”

Vil Schoenheit 

“Wearing those two patterns is a travesty, we won’t be doing plaid with polka-dots–”

“Noooo! B-but I said I would!”

“...To who?”

“To (Y/n) of course I was telling them all about how I’d wear them-”

“Wait wait what did you say?”

He doesn’t believe that you’re meeting in their dreams

Its more than likely one of his close friends slipped up while babysitting

And now they’ve taken the name of their mother for some imaginary friend

Needless to say he’ll get to the bottom of this

Even if it takes a forceful kind of truth serum

“(Y/n)...my half is dead…so whoever they’re speaking to is something else.”

Riddle Rosehearts

“My RULE IS ABSOLUTE TO YOUR ROOM!” 

“(Y/n) would hate you so much!?”

“H-how do y-you–!”

“They said I should be free! That I should be allowed to play with others!”

“Where?! Where did you hear that?!”

He thought that he wouldn’t need to be hurt again

But here you were showing up in your child’s dreams 

But since you’ve left him…what do you words mean now

“You’re not appearing to me and you aren’t here to parent…therefore you’re words barely scrape the height of a suggestion.”

Leona Kingscholar 

“(Y/n) doesn’t think I’m weak!”

“WHAT?!”

“THEY said I’m plenty strong and that you don’t know everything!”

He’ll continue to lock the child away 

Scratching at his post some interloper as he thinks about what his child has said 

“Even across the grave you’re fighting me…can’t do much from where I’m at now can I?”

Idia Shroud 

“Papa I made my own drone…”

“Mmmm.”

“Uhm and uh (Y/n) says that you should maybe look at me when I show you mystuff so…”

“...”

Is floored

Since your departure he’s been torn with hating this child and eliminating anyone who interacts with them

So consumed with grief he shuts himself in his workshop and watches his child relentlessly

He knows them well in fact he’s sure he loves them 

but he can’t stand to speak to them without wanting to cry

So this is all the more painful to him and in his desire to reach out he might end up inventing something meant to capture your wandering spirit

“Just you wait (Y/n), I’ll have you soon.”

Lilia Vanrouge

“Just trust Papa on this you stay inside, my little bat.”

“(Y/n) says you should let me outside more.”

“Oh yeah they really–said…that?”

“Yeah! And that you need to properly comb out my hair you can’t leave it a tangled mess.”

“Hahaha yeah.”

He believes in ghosts, well he knows they exist

So he believes thats what that is about 

And if thats the case than maybe if he suggests somethings for your kid to recite

Maybe he can still reach out to you

“Hey! Hey! Maybe the next time you see them can you tell her how much Daddy loves her?”

[rae-writes]

reality’s nightmare

om brothers x reader

wc : 4k (holy fuck, I did not mean to do this much-)

warnings : gore!! blood, broken bones, mangled body parts, heavy injury detail, talks of intestines/organs, there’s some fucked up imagery in this one y’all

synopsis : they say angels look beautiful when they fall, but no one talks about after they hit the ground

a/n : look, I love the scene where they’re standing before Diavolo, and it’s been mentioned that they were hurt— buuut what if we saw them bruised and broken and bleeding 

…thud…

…TH-UD…

crACK-

CRACK—

C R A C K…

Bloodcurdling screams filled the house of Lamentation, instantly waking the other seven inhabitants. The screams turned into sobs as many pairs of feet slammed against the hard floor. 

Rather unceremoniously, your door was nearly knocked off its hinges as each of your demons burst in the room, huddling around your bed; you were frantically kicking at the covers and hiding your face behind trembling arms. 

“Mc!”

His hand reached out to caress your form gently, startling you and causing you to cry even harder as you reached out for him. 

†

Lucifer holds your face in his palms like you’re made of glass, lithe fingers attempting to wipe your scalding tears in vain. He’s at a complete loss as he watches you shake like a leaf in his grasp; you were terrified, more than he’d ever seen in all his time of knowing you.

When the first born finally managed to catch your gaze, he could physically feel his heart stop. “Mc…” 

Pale as a ghost and face soaked with tears, you stared at Lucifer as if you never thought you’d see him again after bidding goodnight just three hours ago. “L-Luci-”

The surrounding area was dark- eerie - though thankfully, you could clearly tell you were at the Colosseum. You took only a single step forward before something slammed into the ground with a sick crack, just a couple feet away. 

Wings so black they blended into the dark atmosphere were bent wickedly, feathers astray and torn out while a few bones stuck in odd directions, having pierced straight through the flesh. Two gashes on the lowest part of its back oozed blood like a river, quickly forming a puddle underneath the body. The torso itself was turned in a position that was just wrong- no matter what being in the three realms it was. 

With a hand over your mouth to try and ease the bile rising in your throat, you could feel the unnatural warmth of its blood washing over the soles of your bare feet. In an attempt to scurry backwards, you slipped, bracing your arms against the dirt before your face could be washed in it. 

And only then, when you finally came within face-to-face proximity of him, did you realize who it was. 

Lucifer stared back at you, brows furrowed in pain and lips- blood dribbling past- curled into a grimace. 

You broke into a fresh round of sobs- the broken and hoarse kind that made your chest throb- and pulled your boyfriend closer. Your movement was so rushed and unexpected, Lucifer toppled over right on top of you.

His arms caught him, but he was essentially unable to push himself up as your hands had come around his back, fingertips pressing almost harshly into the skin where his wings would normally be. “My love?”

“Show me.”

“I’m afraid I don’t quite understand-”

“Show me your wings!” words desperate and eyes frantic, you were truly starting to make him panic, “Please…” your fingers grasped the shiny feathers hesitantly; you thought they’d break or tear— Lucifer could tell. 

He was confused and worried and honestly, his hands were beginning to shakily ball up your cover as he listened to you whisper in relief about how ‘they’re not broken…’

“I’m alright, Mc, I promise. My wings are alright. You’re alright.” Just what did you dream of to make you like…this? To say something like that?

You kept one hand in the middle of his four wings and the other at the base of his back where the other pair have been long since ripped out. “Can we stay like this?”

“For as long as you need.”

†

Upon seeing your frightened state, Mammon was frantic himself, hands grasping at your waist to pull you against him instead of the wall, “It’s me, Mc! It’s me, baby, it’s me!” He lets your hands grip his forearms as tight as you need, not paying much attention to the pressure in favor of trying to keep eye contact.

“Mam..mon?” the disbelief you seemed to be in sent his heart clenching, especially when you ran your palms along his bare skin, moving up and up until you were under his sleeves, grasping at his shoulders, “Mammon!” 

The pained yelp that echoed in the air made you jump, head whipping around to find the source through the darkness. Calling out in vain, your feet took you in a random direction before you tripped. With hands stretching out to feel around, you felt a trembling form that didn’t quite seem…right.

What looked like they could’ve been arms at some point in time were crushed, bleeding, mangled limbs. Almost every bone was on the outside, tearing through its skin like paper. Elbows inverted, wrists twisted forward and back, fingers snapped in every other direction. Even some of its fingernails were ripped or cracked. Shoulder blades so out of place, it was hard to tell what they were supposed to be. Collar bones not where they were meant to be— one was completely shattered and it showed through the skin. Almost the entire upper portion of the chest was barely recognizable. 

His face was, though. His gorgeous face, head dripping with blood and staining the ends of his snowy hair, features pulled into a heart-wrenching grimace. 

“Mammon…” your hands squeezed and prodded every part of his arms, starting at the shoulders you'd dug crescent moons into- not missing his collar bones that were peeking from his sleep shirt. 

He watched you examine him, pulling you closer every time you choked back a sob. “‘S me, baby, whatsa matter? You’re making your pretty eyes all swollen…” 

“Hold me— just hold me. Need t’feel your arms around me…” 

Ignoring the mumbled ‘in one piece’, Mammon wrapped his arms around you tightly without another word. He’ll chase away…whatever it was that scared you. He won’t leave. 

“I won’t leave. Promise. ‘M right here.” 

†

Oh, Levi’s eyes began watering as soon as he heard your sobbing, bursting out into tears right alongside you when he finally saw your scared form. Lacking his usual shyness, his hands curl around yours and uncover your face like you’d normally do to him. 

“Mc…m-my Henry…” he didn’t know what to do or say but he knew that the way you peered up at him- like you’d seen a ghost- makes him want to curl up and die. 

From the moment you heard the first shrill cry, you knew undoubtedly that it was your Levi. Without questions, you scrambled to your feet and took off sprinting despite being unable to see much, shouting his name with urgency. 

Stopping to catch your breath, you froze when fingers wrapped around your ankle, turning to look at what’d grabbed you. A scream left your throat at the sight. 

Crushed legs were dragging against the dirt, oozing blood and being speared with what looked like every leg bone there was. The left leg was bent out of place at the hip with the knee inverted while the right foot was twisted completely backwards, femur snapped and sticking out of the thigh. Flesh had torn where the bones caught on the ground— wide gashes that were as long as your forearm. It was horrifying. 

Even more horrifying when your sweet boyfriend had blood pouring out of his mouth as he sobbed, still dragging his mangled body along, begging for help. 

Levi flinched when you began pushing him back, mouth opening to spew out apologies when they were cut short as he watched you settle between his legs, arms hooking under his thighs to pull them even tighter against you. 

You nuzzled your head against one of his knees, “Don’t go anywhere, Leviathan…stay- stay with me, don’t leave.” Your fingers dug into his sweatpants absentmindedly. 

Levi was completely floored with how much terror filled your voice and he found himself wrapping his tail around your midsection to try and assure you that, “I’m never leaving. Y-you can’t get r-rid of me, now!” 

…just what happened to you exactly? And did he really want to find out, given how genuinely terrified it made you— the bravest person he knows. Levi didn’t know just yet, but he did know that he’d stay with you for as long as you wanted him to. 

†

Satan clutches both your ankles softly to keep you from hurting yourself, kissing at your calves when you stop thrashing. He’d never seen you in such a state and if he hadn’t trained himself over the centuries, he would’ve gone into a rage to find out who or what did this to you. 

“I’m here, darling, try to calm down now. Shhh, love, listen to my heartbeat- here.” The way you clutched at him like he’d disappear…

“Tannie?” 

You could barely see three feet in front of your face, shown by the way you stumbled and tripped your way through the dark. A loud, horrifying sound reaches your ears at the same time a liquid splashes across your face. It’s warm- running down your face disgustingly, but the sight in front of you…

Something had been impaled on a spiked rock; the jagged tip was coated in a dark substance— the same substance that nearly formed an ocean underneath the figure. It was pouring from the giant hole now in their chest area and the position had the rest of their body curved backwards. Not wanting to talk about the similar dark shapes you saw strewed about- knowing very well they were probably organs and intestines- you grip its twitching fingers cautiously, following the stream of blood down, down, down…until it reaches its face. His face. Satan’s face. His eyes are popped wide, clearly numb to the severe pain he should’ve been feeling. 

Choking back a scream, you cradle the back of his head, lifting it up so he can swallow better as he finally begins to thrash and scream. Begs to stop go unheard and you’re forced to listen to the vile sounds of his chest ripping and tearing and blood gushing, screaming yourself when it soaks the entire lower half of your body. 

“Yeah, it’s Tannie.” He doesn’t mention the grip you have on his shirt, nor does he say anything about the way you push yourself harder against his left side. 

You tap your finger along to the beat of his heart- the rhythm is strong and steady. Alive. “Satan…” 

He watches you smooth your hand over his chest, “Yes, love?” Frowning, he wipes at the corner of your eyes, not wanting you to cry anymore. 

You say nothing at first, instead choosing to curl up closer. There’s an edge to the air before you give a nearly inaudible, “Don’t leave.” 

Satan relaxes, if only for your comfort. “Never.” He needs to know what caused you so much torment— for now, though, he will be with you for as long as you need. 

†

Asmo chooses to scramble around gathering water, a warm washcloth, and spritzing a light soothing scent on his clothes before he’s clamoring in your bed. He gingerly wipes down your face, whispering about swollen eyes and how much salt is in tears; he’s just trying his best to divert your attention. 

But you’re still hysterical, eyes unable to stop shedding tears even as he’s wiping them away. Your hands snake up his jaw, pressing down and smoothing across the skin until your breath stutters and you simply can’t let out audible cries anymore. 

Running around in the dark wasn’t such a good idea, especially now that you’re sprawled on the ground with your head throbbing from how hard you hit it. The lumpy dirt is uncomfortably irritating, but before you can move, you hear shrill crying as something comes slamming into the ground a couple feet beside you. 

Nearly inaudible whimpers left it as it just laid there, body and wings twitching sporadically. Slowly, with sick cracking sounds following, it’s head turned to the side- facing right at you. His jaw was hanging, knocked out of place, and visibly broken. Teeth were fractured or missing entirely, mouth ripped one one side and lips punctured with holes from his teeth...his tongue was hanging by only a couple of muscles, nearly severed from the force of the fall— he must’ve bit it as he was screaming. There was blood pouring onto the ground underneath him, coating what was left of his lower face and splashed into his eyes, all the way up to his forehead. 

You couldn’t even scream as you watched Asmo’s body convulse with choked sounds, eyes refusing to close even as an acidic taste started to make its way up your throat before you were forced to lift your upper body and retch out the contents of your stomach. 

Shakily, almost like you were scared he’d fall apart, you place a kiss to his cheekbone, trailing down his jaw until you reach the corner of his mouth. “Azzy..I love you.” 

You were now officially scaring Asmo, but he kept his cool nonetheless. “I love you more, hun! How about we go take a relaxing bath before trying to sleep again? Sounds good, hm?” 

Briefly, your fingers pressed down harder where you were caressing his jaw before letting up. “Mhm.” You wrapped your arms around his neck like a child, not wanting him to go too far. “Sleep with you.” 

“Yeah, you can sleep with me. My sheets will be good for your skin!” While his words were chipper, there wasn’t a single trace of a smile on his face; why was this happening to you? What happened to you?…what did you see? 

“I love you, Mc. You don’t have to worry about anything else.” 

†

Even though he knows everyone is worried, Beel shoves to the front with the sole intention of protecting you. You’ve curled yourself into a ball, but he just lifts you into his arms and pulls you in close. 

At the familiar warmth of your boyfriend, your eyes snap up to see his worried smile and the only thing you can manage to do is rest your forehead against his with a choked cry of his name. 

Your knees were scraped and bleeding from all the times you’ve tripped in the dark, so you were walking slowly, inching forward until your foot came in contact with something soft. Crouching down, you squinted at the orange color and rubbed the soft tufts between your fingers before your eyes finally adjusted. 

It was Beel. He was curled on his right side, peeks of bone showing from where he landed. His eyes were swimming with blood, upper face drenched with it from where it streamed out of his head- he’d cracked his skull straight across his forehead. His neck was bent in an odd direction- probably twisted before hitting the ground- and more blood bubbled out of his mouth the longer he thrashed his head and tried to speak. 

When he reached a trembling hand out, you finally took notice of Belphie lying beside him; the sob that ripped from your throat was guttural when the younger started crying out in Beel’s stead. 

“I’m here, Mc. It’s okay now, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You didn’t have the heart or the bearings to tell him that you were afraid of something happening to him again, instead choosing to just bury your face in his neck and sob harder. The cries only increased in pitch when you felt him move, “Don’t go! Don’t leave me, stay, don’t leave me, please…”

He’d only shifted to scoot further back, but his heart was absolutely breaking at the state of you. “Always, Mc.” Laying down, he tucked you into his right side, frowning at the thought of something causing you this much anguish. “I’ll stay with you always…I might have to carry you with me to the kitchen later tonight, though…sorry.”

†

When he finally manages to shove everyone out of the way, Belphie caresses your cheeks, dipping his fingers into the flesh softly as he forces you to look at him. “Look at me. No, no, at me.” 

Your brows are furrowed, breaths coming out quick and short, “Bel…” you cradled his face even softer than he was yours, “My Belphegor…” 

The sharp pebbles and uneven ground irritated your palms and knees as you crawled, trying to make your way around in the dark with little injury. You staggered when your hand slipped in something warm, flailing before bumping into what the warmth was coming from. You’d slipped in blood. 

It was a trembling, bleeding lump on the ground, curled into a half fetal position on its left side. The arm that it landed on was completely bent backwards at the shoulder, fingers twitching with the pain they must’ve been feeling. A few rib bones punctured the abdomen, causing a tearing sound when they moved too much. There’s a large crack on the left side of the skull, which is where most of the blood is pouring from; through the streaked blood, where he’d probably tried to rub it away, you could see Belphie’s face. Tears had washed the blood from his eyes into his mouth where he kept having to spit it out onto the dirt in order to keep crying out for help.

With a start, you easily recognized what- or who- he was clutching onto desperately to be Beel. The way they were curled around one another…your tears mixed with the blood pooling into the dirt, hands making their way through the disgusting mud puddle it created to grab at his injured hand.

“Your Belphegor, ‘m your belphie-” he dragged you in closer, tucking you securely against his left side, “Wanna tell your Bel what’s the matter? Nightmare?”

Pushing the nauseous feeling down- and the distinct feeling that you knew it wasn’t a nightmare, that it was real- you shook your head in denial. It was such a poor lie that you couldn’t help but wince into his shoulder, but he didn't say anything.

He just pulled you in tighter and tighter until your breaths were practically his. “Told you to sleep with me. Nothing stands a chance against the avatar of sloth in this department.” Belphie relaxed when his rambling made you laugh, “Not gonna let anything haunt you like this again.”

It was real, it was real, it was real. “Okay…I love you, Bel.”

Lucifer fell backwards out of the heavens; the first to fall and the first to hit the ground (he watched his brothers fall with him— heard the vile sounds of each one of them hitting hell's earth). Though various emotions clouded his mind, he still had the wit intact to try and maneuver himself before crashing, though that made it much worse. Half twisted before his landing, his torso remained twisted, ribs shattered and internal organs pierced with bone. His back, despite his best efforts, is what had the most contact with the ground- broken at every vertebrae. Feathery wings now black fluttered uselessly against his will, shocked with the pain of having been torched, torn, broken, and pierced by their own bones. Lucifer had always been the one that hid his pain best out of the six, so he grits his teeth and twists his torso back into place and gets up because he needs to get to his family. 

In an attempt to reach out for his brother, Mammon fell through the clouds with his arms stretched out, eyes never straying from the view in front of him, not even when Lucifer’s body hit the ground and he knew he was about to be next. He caught himself, or tried to, instantly snapping his wrists and sending a domino effect throughout his arms; each bone and joint cracking, shooting sharp pains straight to his head. Even his shoulders had been knocked horrendously out of place, so the only way he managed to get upright was the frantic flapping of his wings. Broken, kneeling on shaking legs, the sight of his mutilated arms made his stomach churn and bile rise. The acidic feeling has him retching miserably, yet even so, he spits out as much of the taste as he can and stands, hellbent on finding his family even if his arms are useless. 

With his throat closing up from panic at having the ground beneath him crumble and break, Levi falls through feet first, head lifted to watch the heavens grow farther and farther, arms scrambling in vain to grab at something. In this frantic state, he never saw the end of his fall coming- he only felt the white hot pain cracking through his lower limbs- heard his bones shattering and snapping apart. His hands are clutching at dirt, choke sobs wrecking through his frame because he can’t feel his legs anymore. His brain is only registering the throb of pierced skin, veins, and arteries. The drag against the ground makes the pain worse, but he can’t find it in his hysterical self to stop pulling his body along, arms shaking under the strain as he attempts to seek out one of his brothers for help.

Opposite of his…’creator’, Satan fell backwards amongst the clouds, head tilted towards the ground as it got closer and closer. His eyes closed in anticipation of the impact, expecting his skull to get crushed, but they quickly shot open at the gutting sensation in his abdomen. Blonde hair tickled the rocks beneath him, head still lolled backwards with no energy to lift it, making the blood dripping from his mouth stream into his eyes. He’d been impaled on a spiked boulder, sending a numbing tingle throughout his entire body; the only moving parts of him were the shocked blinking of his eyes, bobbing of his adam’s apple as he tried to swallow his own blood, and the occasional twitch of his fingertips. Once the numbness made its way to his throat, he began to panic, blindly moving his sluggish limbs in an attempt to get free. The struggle irritated his wound, making more and more blood gush until there was a whole ocean of it underneath him- at some point, he lost the ability to move at all, and the only thing he could do was let out curdling screams until someone found him.

Asmo fell in a daze, not really processing the situation until he saw ink black washing over his ivory wings. He suddenly screamed, hands rubbing over the shedding feathers like somehow he could stop them from blowing away with the wind. Watching all the feathers burned down into four smooth, leathery wings, he was completely hysterical as the reality of the situation sunk in. When he couldn’t bear to look at what he was becoming anymore, he cast his teary eyes in front of him, breath getting stolen from his throat when his jaw met the ground, shattering instantly upon impact. The rest of his body hurdled against the dirt and he just laid there, too shocked with pain to even really feel it. The tang of copper crawled up his throat, spilling out of his mouth, but the only thing he could do was let out choked whimpers, hoping someone could hear. 

As his throat constricted until he could barely breathe, heart thumping sporadically after ‘letting’ his sister be shot, Beel fell clutching his twin against his chest. He promised he wouldn’t let go, but the momentum made him lose his grip anyway, sending Beel further into panic. He never got the chance to wonder about the end of their fall- he was too busy trying to reach his brother again- but he felt it. The shock of pain blooming where he landed on his right side, the feeling of organs being pierced by bone. He desperately wanted to lift his head to see if the other was still beside him, but his eyes were covered with blood from his cracked skull. He whimpers out his twin’s name, flinching when someone grabs his ankle before frantically reaching out with his left arm to grab onto Belphegor’s ankle— he wanted to shout out, but he couldn’t find the energy to speak. Instead he had to listen to Belphie cry out for someone to save them. 

Belphie fell screaming, hands grasping onto his twin with frantic desperation after having watched his sister get shot with an arrow. The wind blowing past them was grating against his ears, further panicking him when his grip began slipping the faster gravity dragged them down. As soon as they broke apart, they were scrambling to reach each other again, and he didn’t notice the sight of the ground coming closer until they crashed into it. He fell on his left side, arm and leg getting crushed under the shocking weight, ribs cracking, and head knocking against the dirt so hard it made his vision blur and skull break open. In this position, he was facing Beelzebub’s feet, like they were Yin and Yang. He uses his right arm to reach out for his twin again, gripping onto his uninjured leg tightly, voice coming out cracked as he assured his brother it’d be okay before crying out for one of the others to please come save them.

[bless-my-demons]

Redamancy: Chapter Twenty-One

Series Summary: What happens when your soulmate is a vampire that struggles to maintain a diet of trying not to kill you? Common sense says run for the hills, nothing is worth your life - but my heart is whispering why not, what’s there to lose?

Warnings: More angst, but of the wolfy-variety!

Notes: I know I said two chapters before Jasper, but I had to fit this one in which is why I’m posting out of my normal window. Trust the process when it comes to why I did what I did this chapter lol and if you don’t spot it, everything will be fine (famous last words). Honestly I think I’m just healing inner me with how I wish conversations should’ve happened in the movie lol

Word Count: 2401

Series Masterlist

• March 8th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

Time starts to pass by a little easier with Quil, the quiet isn’t as deafening even when there’s a comfortable silence. I think the same could be said for Quil, since all of his Rez friends have gone AWOL.

Our days are usually spent under blankets on my couch, watching movies and just being present for each other. Plus, there’s not much to do in this tiny ass town anyways.

“Heard anything?” I ask him tentatively, hopefully.

He shakes his head solemnly in response, eyes never leaving the tv. The fact that he doesn’t even want to talk about Jake or Embry twists a new little knife in my gut.

“I’m okay, Y/n/n.” The grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes and I hate it.

“It’s okay to miss them, I know it’s hard to be stuck with just me now-”

“Don’t.” He reaches over to grab my ankle since I’m facing him on the couch and drags it to his lap, “You’re here and they’re not. I was friends with them longer and they ditched me for other dudes. I’m where I want to be.”

“You don’t have to hold it all in, I’m familiar with that feeling.” I nudge his hand with my socked foot to get him to look at me. “What good am I if I don’t therapize you too?”

“That would insinuate I do anything for you, you won’t talk about him.” His gaze levels on me and I’m caught red handed.

“There’s not much to it, I-I loved him and he’s gone. End of story.” I pick at the loose strings on my blanket, the topic hard for me to meet his eyes.

“There’s everything to it.” He squeezes my foot, “Not end of story, you deserve to vent just as much as I do. You don’t need to feel guilty for grieving him, heartache is a real bitch.”

“Heartache is a bitch, huh?” I huff a laugh as I try to breathe through the tears that want to spring up.

“Y/n, I’m the loneliest guy on the planet. In the male friends department and the girlfriend department, don’t make fun of me.” His lighthearted tone trying and failing to make light of his situation.

“We’re just fucked, aren’t we?” His brown eyes meet mine as we commiserate in our collective sadness.

His head drops back against the back of the couch, “Beyond comprehension, my dear Y/n/n.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Home •

Reader

My finger hovers over a text to Quil, asking him to come over, when I get a call from my other best friend.

“Bells, hey-”

“I need backup.” Her request draws me up short. “I’m going to the Rez-I need to see Jacob.”

“Bella, he’s with Sam now-”

“I don’t care anymore, you in?” She presses.

“I was in the second you called, I’ll be waiting outside.”

“Good, because I’m almost there.” Hanging up the phone, I grab a jacket and my shoes.

So much for the first day of Spring Break, might as well start it off with a bang.

•March 11th, 2006 • Quileute Indian Reservation•

Reader

Bella slid to a stop in Jacob’s driveway and both of us hopped out, memories of bike-building settling like a weight in my stomach. It wasn’t even that long ago and I miss it, I miss Jacob.

Bella knocks on the glass pane of his front door and Billy Black answers, “Bella?”

“I need to see him.”

“He-,” glancing between us briefly, “he’s not in.” The lie blatantly obvious.

“I’m sorry,” Bella pushes past his wheelchair and inside the house, “I really need to see him.”

I remain awkwardly on the front porch, torn between not wanting to intrude or following my friend.

“Bella!” Billy’s warning is ineffective as she storms to Jacob’s room.

Just when the situation couldn’t possibly get worse, I spot four shirtless figures emerging from the forest by the house, Sam’s group.

I hear the back door open and shut and I just know it’s Bella.

I sprint around the house to catch up to her, “Bella!” But my warning falls on deaf ears, she’s on a warpath for the boys. “Shit.” I mutter under my breath.

Stomping up to the tallest - Sam, “What did you do?” She pushes his chest, hard. “What did you do, huh? What did you do to him?!”

“Hey - watch it!” The other two guys plus Embry shout as they step up around their leader.

“Easy.” The word is more of a growl than anything and it causes the hair on the back of my neck to rise.

If this comes to a fight, we’re fucked.

“He didn’t want this!” Her desperation pulls at my heart.

“What did we do? What did he do? What did he tell you?” The questions from the guy to Sam’s right are rapid-fire, his anger clearly volatile.

“He tells me nothing, because he’s scared of you!”

The same guy barks out a laugh, clearly he finds her concern for Jacob silly.

“Bella, let’s go home-” but my plead immediately goes unheard because she throws a fucking right hook for the guys face, son of a bitch.

“Too late now.” Another guy jokes, clearly enjoying the situation.

“Bella, get back!” Sam orders, trying to diffuse the situation as this guy begins to shake.

I grab her arm and we slowly start to retreat for her truck, too scared to turn and take our eyes off of the angry male.

“Bella…” I whisper, unsure of what to do.

“Paul! Calm down now.” The authority in Sam’s voice rings through the backyard, but it’s too late somehow.

The shaking and heavy breathing from Paul leads to a transformation that snatches my breath from my body - a wolf. And not just any wolf, a wolf from the fucking meadow. A wolf that saved us from Laraunt, now standing before us where Paul was.

Where Paul was.

Paul is a wolf. A really big one at that - a really big angry one.

Anger directed at Bella and by association, me. The death grip I have on her fucking arm has to be painful, but the menacing look in his eyes shocks me to my bones.

Bella moves before I do, using my tight grip on her to yank me into action with her as she makes for Jacob’s house.

“Bella! Y/n!” Jake yells, clearing the back porch railing in one leap, sprinting for us.

“Run! Jake, run!” Bella screams back at him, but he charges towards us anyways.

He jumps last minute before he reaches us and I trip trying to follow his path with my eyes before-

Before he turns into a fucking wolf too.

Jacob Black, our best friend, is a wolf? I mean, vampires are definitely a thing, but wolves?

Squaring off with Paul, both the russet-colored wolf and the silver-grey wolf launch for each other. Snapping and snarling as they roll into the woods, my heart painfully thumps in my chest, Jacob.

“Hey, take the girls back to Emily’s place.” Sam orders Embry and the last remaining male, both of them jogging over to us.

“I guess the wolf’s out of the bag.” They joke, ushering us up and towards Bella’s truck.

They’re wolves, Sam’s gaggle of Rez boys are fucking wolves. Jacob is one of them and so is Embry, what about Quil? Is this why they’ve ditched him, ditched us? Wolves can’t be friends with humans? What do I even tell him, or should I tell him anything?

My mind is racing a million miles an hour in the span of seconds with questions I desperately need answers to.

Embry holds open the passenger side door to Bella’s truck with a smile and I walk right past his invitation to climb in the bed with the newly acquainted Jared.

“Y/n, that’s not safe-”

“I’ll be fine.” I don’t even spare a glance at him with my monotone answer, I’m mad at him for how he’s treating Quil.

Jared raises his eyebrows and quirks a grin. “Feisty, I like it.”

Embry huffs as he shuts the door behind Bella and rounds the truck for the driver’s side, “Don’t encourage her, man.”

• March 11th, 2006 • Uley Residence •

Reader

“Hey I think we should go back and see if Jacob’s okay.” Bella rolls down her window as the rest of us hop out of her truck.

“I hope Paul sinks some teeth in him, serves him right.” Jared quips to Embry.

“No way! Jacob’s a natural, you see him phase on the fly? I got five that says Paul doesn’t even touch him.” Embry argues, “C’mon in Bella! We won’t bite.”

“Speak for yourself.” Jared jokes and I shove him as we turn to walk inside.

“Oh hey, about Emily - Sam’s fiancé? Don’t stare, it bugs Sam.” Embry warns both of us before following Jared.

“Why would we stare?” Bella asks and I shrug, just as confused.

“You guys hungry? Like I have to ask.” The female in the kitchen asks the boys, laughing at what must be an inside joke. “Who’s this?” She asks after turning around, glancing between us.

“Bella Swan and Y/n Y/l/n.” Jared answers her.

“Hmm… So, you’re the vampire girl-well, girls.” I instantly admire her easy-going vibe, diving straight in to acknowledge the elephant in the room to get it over with.

“So you’re the wolf girl?” Bella asks in return, accepting her olive branch.

“Guess so,” smiling to herself, she picks up the largest platter I’ve ever seen of muffins, “Well, I’m engaged to one.” Snatching both Embry and Jared’s hands as they reach- “Save some for your brothers! And ladies first, muffin?” It’s comical, the way she mothers them.

“Thank you, Emily.” I smile at her and sit across from Jared, the muffin still warm from the oven.

“Leave it to Jacob to find a way around Sam’s gag order.” Emily scoffs, not surprised.

“Umm, he didn’t… Say anything to us.” Glancing at me, Bella explains.

“That’s a wolf thing, alpha’s orders get obeyed whether we want ‘em to or not. Oh and check it out - we can hear each other’s thoughts.” Embry brags and I gape, this is all fucking wild.

“Would you shut up! These are trade secrets - damnit, these chicks run with vampires!” Jared’s frustration is lighthearted as he admonishes Embry for giving away some of their abilities.

“Can’t really run with vampires,” Emily and I chuckle at the boys not quite catching on, “Because they’re fast.”

“Yeah? Well we’re faster. Freaked out yet?”

“You’re not the first monsters we’ve met.”

“Jake’s right, you’re good with weird.” Sam nods at us, beelining for Emily as soon as he steps in the door. He presses kisses to her lips and then all over her face, causing her to giggle. The obvious display of affection carving out my heart just a little bit more - looking away I set my muffin down, no longer hungry.

Pushing and shoving each other, Paul and Jacob finally show - unhurt and brotherly even. They just beat the shit out of each other and they’re tighter than ever? Boys.

“Sorry.” Paul apologizes and flashes what has to be his signature smile at both of us.

I catch Jacob jerking his head towards the door and Bella follows, probably off to explain this whole entire shit show. I turn my gaze to Embry and level a glare on my former friend, waiting for him to say something.

“You going to let me explain? Or are you going to look at me like you’d like to castrate me until Bella gets back?” Embry stares right back, munching on another muffin.

“Jared?” I look at him sweetly and he grins, “take me home?”

Embry stands so quick and his chair teeters dangerously on two legs for a moment. “Y/n.” His tone is hard, done with this game.

“Embry.” I match him back.

He walks out the front door and it drags me from my own chair, this blowout long overdue.

“You know now and you’re still fucking mad at me?” He turns, leaning against Bella’s truck and folding his arms.

“I don’t even know where to start, Embry!” I yell at him exasperated. “You ditched us, you ditched your longest running best friend-”

“I had no choice!”

“He’s struggling-”

“I’m struggling!” His eyes are wild and his hands have a slight shake, “Cutting everyone out has been the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done! I can’t tell anyone, can’t see anyone, can’t do what I want to do anymore! I belong to this Reservation, to this pack, to Sam now. He says jump, I ask how high. He says keep your mouth shut, I cut everyone out. It’s how it has to be.”

“Embry, that’s no way to live.” My heart breaks for his situation.

“It’s in my blood and not something I can opt out of, Y/n/n. Besides, they’re my brothers now and they need me as much as I need them.”

I surge forward to hug him, “I’m still mad at you for Quil.”

“I missed you too.” I hear his grin as I hug him tight. “You can’t tell him though.”

Immediately I retreat, “What?”

“It’s a tribe secret, the pack is sacred and must be protected.”

“He wouldn’t done anything to endanger-”

“It doesn’t matter, anyone on the outside has to stay on the outside. It’s not like I don’t want to, he’s my best fucking friend. But he doesn’t have a need-to-know.”

“Embry-”

“I can’t argue with you about this, please drop it.” His wide eyes plead with me and I surrender.

“Okay, okay. Consider it dropped.” I mime like I’m locking my lips closed and I toss the invisible key over my shoulder.

“Good,” throwing an arm over my shoulder, he leads me back inside, “Now you can hang with the big dogs.”

“Okay I’m going to need you to not make stupid jokes about this situation.” But I laugh anyways, I miss this - him.

I smile to myself, happy to finally have people back in my life that I thought were gone for good. I still feel the massive hole in my chest, but the pain is on the back burner for now.

At least until I’m alone again.

Next

Taglist Part 1:

@aoi-targaryen @Min-jianhyung @pbbsl @timelordhunterandmysterysolver @sheerangermany @clearwater-hoe @Blackbluerose666 @ivy-plays @random-human02 @delightfulbluebirdstarlight @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @gaymazinglula @l3ejm @angelfuzzy2 @losa12308 @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads @flyawayprincess @ropickle @catbusloki @deviat3dsn0wf0x @lovesanimals0000 @unrevived @h-naec @cutesnakemum @zudooms @itsmytimetoodream @stinkii-boii @acoolnight @anothercoffeeblogx @irishblend10 @from-now-on-im-switzerland @kyraslife2 @naolvshan @kiiwiigii @rosedpetal @kiaraandrea @foolsgoldxo @heartfilia01 @azuredgalaxies @geekysimmerthings @graciereads @ramen-girl-2424 @0hmydekiru @creeqvealley @cherriebat @whichwitchisthebitch @dragon-rider-with-a-book @secretfairytailpetscookie @psychobitchsthings

[writermask-0807]

vlad tepes dracula x reader {“love me soft, and love me slow.”}

A/N: im a puddle of goo for sad vlad and this is the product of that. ngl, im honestly actually proud of this fic and wow isn't that new?? (the world must be ending) anyways I hope yall enjoy!!

Warnings: ooc vlad, uhhh pining, sort of, and angst?? but with a happy ending (?), so dont worry! just my poor bby grieving ig (he deserves better 😭)

He doesn’t know how to say it.

It doesn’t matter how long he’s thought of it, how long the words have been lingering, just on the tip of his tongue, only half a kiss away from being confessed against your mouth, his fingers tangled in your hair- a raw, vulnerable permanence to whatever - whatever this is, whatever this he has with you.

He doesn’t dare to call it love, although it is what it is- love in the curve of your lips and the shine of your eyes; soft, tender love in the gentleness of your hands when you hold him, love, tender and soft in your brushing kisses and your pretty smiles, etched deep into the ancient floors and walls of his castle, a place warmed once more by your presence and your love, a place he can call home once more.

It’s love, and he’s sure the both of you know it is, but -

Vlad Tepes Dracula does not know how to tell you he loves you, and he’s not even sure if he wants to—and he doesn’t want to admit it, because then it will mean that it’s real, that this is actually happening—because he’s afraid. No amount of denying will take it back, not when the truth is so terrifyingly, blatantly obvious, a laughing mockery in his face.

Love has not been kind to him. He had loved Lisa, true and with all of his heart (or what was left anyway), and it had torn him apart, it had unraveled him at the seams and it had left him wounded and bleeding. It had left an empty, bloodied cavern in his chest, and it had bruised him black and blue with anger and grief. Love has not been kind to him, and yet here he is again, afraid of it and yet so deeply, desperately, pathetically in love anyway.

It’s almost laughable- how far the great Vlad Tepes Dracula, King of Vampires, has fallen from grace, but here he is, finding something suspiciously like happiness in that endearing way you laugh, in the way it makes your eyes crease at the corners like half-moons, your dimples curving.

Starlight gleams on your skin and the color of your eyes when you open them, lashes fluttering, feeling his gaze, and you’re so achingly beautiful like this—the midnight breeze in your hair, the moonlight shimmering on your skin, the gentle lilt of your laughter, and that soft, tender love in your eyes—and all he wants to do is cradle you close, hold you to his chest and tell you that the heart inside, as broken and black and withered as it is, beats for you and you only, and he longs for it so much that the very thought of anything else aches.

“Vlad, are you alright?” you ask, leaning in, concern in your frown as you peer searchingly at him, a delicate hand coming to cup his cheek; and this close he can smell the sweetness of your scent of lavender and cinnamon, see the galaxies of stars in your wide, beautiful eyes, feel the softness of your skin if he chooses to reach out.

And he does, curls an arm around your waist and steals a kiss, achingly tender and soft, reveling in the way you melt unthinkingly into it, into him - and he should really tell you to be careful, that he could hurt you - he’s selfish. Always has been, and with you around, he thinks he always will be.

“I’m fine, dearest. Just thinking.” He breathes into your hair, presses a kiss to your temple, cradling you close, and there must be some somber quality to his voice, or maybe it’s the mournful sigh that accompanies his words that does it, but he thinks you know, in that moment - he thinks you understand in the way you soften into his embrace, arms winding around his neck and pulling him closer—if even possible—into your warmth.

“It’s okay, you know. We’re gonna be okay.”

You murmur in his ear, leaving a soft kiss to the side of his jaw, before you tuck your head in the crook of his neck, and god, he loves you. He just can’t say it yet. And despite the tears that pearl in the corners of his eyes, he thinks that that’s okay. He’s bruised black and blue by a burnt out anger and resignation and grief, and he needs time to heal but you understand and it’s okay. There’s nothing more he can ask for, and while love hasn’t been kind to him, Vlad thinks another chance is worth it if it means having you in his arms like this again.

FIN-

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Seven

Okay if anyone is super well-versed in the whole northern songs drama, I would LOVE your insights. I haven’t really looked into it, so all I know is they lost it right before the divorce meeting. What happened? What the hell is this? -- “Which includes Paul and John,” “Just about.” “What does that mean?” “No comment.”

The scouse getting thicker and thicker after “Carolina moOOn?” What can I say? I’m a sucker for it.

Paul’s absolute sugar-cookie heart-eyes when George walks in and then Ringo’s high-pitched “Hi Georgie!” Guys. Tone it down! I know you love him. But you just saw him yesterday, and you’ll see him again tomorrow. Oh wait . . . is today the day he quits?

John. If you look at your boyfriend like that while he’s being an attention-whore, he’s going to keep being an attention whore. So just. You know. Keep in mind what you’re encouraging here.

OMG they’re KISSING! (Live George reaction)

Paul. If you give your boyfriend what he wants while he’s being an attention-whore, he’s going to keep being an attention whore. So just. You know. Keep in mind what you’re encouraging here. (but literally, John just becomes a maniac, dancing and shouting, the MOMENT Paul goes to talk to George, and Paul’s instantly like “George, what george?”)

This Paul/George fight is, boiled down, literally just Paul being paranoid and anal and George trying to reassure him. “It’s not passe, it’s just a chord . . . yeah, but some drainies suit different occasions.”

“You need Eric Clapton.” “You need George Harrison.” John wasn’t here to be cute when George walked in, so he’s making up for it now.

“If you vamp, then it takes away from his vamping.” He says to the lead guitarist. Rolling my eyes so hard right now. See, the problem is, Paul loves George. But he’s IN love with John.

Literally, a montage of them raw-dogging it on the ground would be less gay than this insanity.

Poor baby. I would’ve quit a long time ago. Good for you.

I love John’s angsty guitar and torn-up vocals post-george.

And the minute her number one hater is gone, my girl gets on a mic! Way to be, honestly. And here’s the thing. Paul and Ringo (and obviously John) love it! There should’ve been a Beatles-Ono colab on a helter-skelter type track. Would’ve killed.

Paul swinging around on that scaffolding and me doing cartwheels in the bathroom between LSAT sections. ADHD besties!

John when George quits: “If he doesn’t come back by Tuesday we get Clapton in” (which he obviously doesn’t fully mean) VS John’s reaction when Paul misses one session: sprinting down the road and climbing a wall and screaming at him

Yoko sure does know how to cater to a fearful-anxious attachment. “John, John, John, Joooooooohhhhhhhnnnn!”

Literally Mo, marry me immediately! My kingdom for a kiss! She’s literally soo beyond gorgeous, I’m dying. Okay sorry I’ll be done now.

Men are the WORST! But who is making her laugh like that? Ringo? Is she looking off in the direction of the band? I can’t tell.

Another rare Paul feminist moment! Woop! “A7, D7, G7. Get ‘em off over the weekend and you’re in.”

“So, cats and kittens. What we gonna do?” . . . “Catch up! Cats and kittens. Don’t get left behind.” ???? There have got to be so many secret jabs on RAM for John to hate it so much that we just don’t understand. Is this one of them? Was this a saying of theirs?

Okay, good job. Now that the band is here, Mo isn’t being fucking mean-girled out of the circle. Also, Ringo sits by his wife, John by his girlfriend, and Paul by his daddy. As they should.

“The maresey beat awords for the best coople of the yeeuh.” Everyone studiously ignoring him. He’s so embarrassing.

I really really love Mo, though. Like I know I’m biased because she’s pretty, but her cute little “Yes!” when Paul jokingly suggests they do it at the cavern. She loved those days. The fact that she’s an og? God bless her, literally.

“Location isn’t really our main problem at the moment.” George Martin. “It’s breathing, actually.” said in the most casual voice possible but meant with the most wounded heart. Gosh, that one hurt. And then look how George Martin looks at him. His best boy is going through it.

The huggle! Ringo initiates it with Paul, of course, turning to him and gently gripping both biceps as he forces deep, direct eye contact. But then as Ringo’s pulling away, Paul leans into him and holds him there, talking. And as Ringo’s nodding, he looks to John, who basically pounces on both of them, head bowed, arms aggressive, pulling them all in, tighter, tighter until it’s a three-way head-bonk. Ringo’s hand at John’s waist now, and Paul’s fucking iron talons clenching desperately around his bicep. But still, John manages to pull away from Paul’s grip as Yoko inserts herself between them where, really, she decidedly does Not belong. It’s got to be the most painful non-hug ever recorded on camera. Nobody knows what anyone wants, let alone how to give it to them.

Why did the gayest one also have to be the saddest one though? I guess the Lord gives his hardest battles to his gayest soldiers, smh

[daffi-990]

WIP Wednesday

Taggedby @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @devirnis @callmenewbie @hippolotamus @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon. Thank you my dears for tagging me 😘💕

Bit of a longer snippet today. Wrote this the other night (before Christmas) when I had a random burst of writing beans and quickly pumped out 1.5K after a shower. It was unexpected and I wasn’t sure if it flowed or was just delirious ramblings, but I think it’s okay?

It’s from Chapter Six of Rival Firefighters 🚒, which is Eddie’s POV. The whole fic will be probably 10 chapters long and I’m excited to be over the halfway mark! Unfortunately I probably won’t be posting until the whole fic is finished cos my anxiety would flip if I started posting and it wasn’t finished yet 😅

Anyways … here you go …

Eddie’s time at the 118 is drawing to a close with only a few days left until he’s heading back to the 136. The mood at the station has been a bit down, the team already mourning the oncoming loss, Buck especially. Their resident golden retriever has been sulking around with his tail between his legs, throwing Eddie the saddest puppy dog eyes.

The thing is, Eddie loves being at the 118 and working with Buck, Hen, Chim, Bobby and the rest of the team. He wasn’t expecting to form such strong friendships here or find the perfect partner, but the 118 surprised him. Even though he’s not officially one of them, they have accepted him as their own.

When Carla had a family emergency two weeks into Eddie’s time at the 118 and Eddie had to go pick up Chris and bring him back to the station, Bobby had welcomed Chris with a warm smile and immediately begun showing him around. Eddie had tried to apologize, explaining Shannon was out of town so he didn’t know where else to take him and Bobby had simply told him that there, at the station with them, was the right place for him and that Buck had filled Bobby in on the situation as soon as Eddie had left to go pick up Chris. A flood of warmth had threatened to bring Eddie to his knees but he’d managed to remain standing, moving forward to embrace Bobby in a hug that showed just how much the small act of kindness had meant to him.

Eddie feels like he’s being torn away from the start of something special, but he also knew coming in that he wasn’t going to be here forever, it was just a temporary gig. He’s got three more days until he has to say goodbye to them. To Buck.

He knows Buck is going to stay in his life despite Eddie leaving to go back to the 136, but he has to say goodbye to working with him. Yeah they’ll probably see each other from time to time on a call and get to work with each other then, but it won’t be the same. Working side by side with Buck every shift is honestly one of Eddie’s favorite things, which is funny seeing as how once upon a time Eddie dreaded seeing Buck on a call.

Buck is funny, knows a whole bunch of random facts and has the biggest heart of anyone Eddie’s ever met. He’s also a giant dork who manages to get himself into all kinds of trouble, like right now Buck has somehow managed to tangle himself up in one of the hoses while doing an equipment check. Eddie shakes his head in exasperation as he makes his way down the loft to help Buck out before the 6 foot 2 lug breaks something.

No pressure tagging: @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @the-likesofus @athenagranted @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @shitouttabuck @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jamespearce9-1-1 @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @theotherbuckley @loserdiaz @captain-hen @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @mellaithwen and anyone else who wants to share something 🙂

[unwisegirl]

*spoilers for wish + a rant abt characters lol*

look overall wish was fine. there were some moments that made me feel the kind of magic I felt as a kid. the star looked like Kirby but yk what it was cute as shit. some of the songs slapped.

but my main problem with the movie was that it seemed to spend so much time trying to make itself about ✨Disney nostalgia✨ that it forsook the characters.

I NEED NEED NEED filmmakers to realise that what makes a good story a good story, what gives a story heart, is ultimately the characters. the wish characters, unfortunately, were simply not well fleshed out.

like, asha was #quirky for no reason at all?? I’m still not sure what her motives were?? her sad dad origin story felt so shoehorned in and overdone??? (compare to moana’s relationship with her grandmother) her mum was kinda just there?? we don’t even get to know what her wish was?? and the friends were too busy trying to be like the 7 dwarves that they weren’t given any actual depth.

though the biggest sins character-wise were magnifico and amaya. like okay, I still don’t get magnifico’s motives??? villains NEED a clear motive and I still have no idea whether he was straight up evil all along but putting up a front or whether asha’s questioning of him was what triggered his descent into evil? his torn tapestry and his back story — they were barely explored??? I was expecting SOMETHING that would better illuminate his psyche for us but there wasn’t?? and the fact that he just opens this forbidden book and then the book consumes and controls him — WAY too convenient. and the fact that even tho the book controlled him afterwards there’s no complexity in his repentance — he’s just trapped in a dungeon by his wife??

SPEAKING OF HIS WIFE. they had such an opportunity to make amaya a far more complex character. this is a woman who married this man with presumably good intentions and has been with him for YEARS, but she betrays him at the drop of a hat and at the end of it all TRAPS HIM IN A DUNGEON???? like??? WHERE IS THE INNER STRUGGLE AND COMPLEXITY????? WHERE IS THE FACT THAT YEAH THE PERSON YOU LOVED SUCKED BUT YOU STILL LOVED THEM AND CARED FOR THEM???? I saw that originally the two of them were suppose to be evil together and honestly that would’ve been WAY better Disney wyd for real

the characters in wish weren’t characters. they were conduits for a cobbled together plot for disney nostalgia. look, the movie wasn’t bad. but it’s not gonna be a movie I relate to or cry at five years from now. because of the characters.

[spirit-meets-the-b0ne]

In the middle of my HotD rewatch

The gyroscope of interpretation on this show has been at the forefront of my rewatch along with now having read some of the script and read/watched cast interviews.

This one inference made by Olivia Cooke (via Sarah Hess) has plagued me for the first few episodes.

Now, now I know these waters are really muddy what with a few obvious conceptual things: "isn't this queer baiting" "if it wasn't it wouldn't be good sapphic representation anyway" "this is an actors interpretation" blah blah blah. I'm not arguing any of that.

Just that Olivia's head canon held against this scene hits SO MUCH HARDER

Because I gotta say MY GOD imagine how that strikes Alicent if at some point her mother caught them together. Before they even really knew what they were doing (objectively to the tune of they were 13/14 not fully clear on platonic/romantic love) her mother impressed upon them it was wrong. When they denied and in some way or another Alicent/Rhaenyra saying "she never touched me." Only for Alicent to hear it echoed back to her years later like this... Knowing that even in her naïveté she would recognize the truth. That Alicent’s mother, naturally, kept this contained. Which honestly plays more to truly making Alicent more complex by the way she saw what “scandal” her mother covered up for her only for her to act out some perversion of this with Aegon when she’s a mother. A learned behavior twisted in the worst way, because that's what she knew.

Listen I fully understand that this show is NOT taking this angle even though there seems to be a huge division between what some writers and actors are playing to and the editors at HBO imaginably being like "what's all this gay shit?" BUT

I think it's part of what this show missed about TRAGEDY and I mean come on you want drama???? These girlies were ready to hand it to you on a silver plater! In this context I needed:

Rhaenyra being devastated by the news that Alicent was going to be marrying her father. The sheer heartbreak of “this can’t be happening” and knowing she would have lost Alicent to a husband but not THIS. Show her with Syrax, confiding in her dragon because now she has no other friend to talk to - I’m just saying if they were going with the context of “Fire & Blood itself is an unreliable narrator and only shows certain people’s views” - then a scene like this disrupts nothing. Tell me how when they prayed together and Alicent told her to "kneel with me" that part of Rhaenyra prayed for that world where they flew off on dragon back and ate cake.

Alicent being devastated - having her heart torn in two, crying behind every closed door knowing she was going to break the heart of her best friend. The deleted scene does give a peak of that being the case - but again it could/should have been included. Show me Alicent begging Rhaenyra to forgive her and desperately saying she loves her. I think one of the things that Team Green argues the most could have been explored by this avenue, Alicent is a victim of her marriage - it would be inherently more compelling if in the process she is also losing the closest thing to a "first love" she had. Show me Alicent at her desk writing letters to Rhae once a week and then ceremoniously burning them in the braziers. Alicent leaning more into religion as a means of getting out from under her repressed desires and past actions.

Show me both women struggling in their adulthood to even remember why they held "such childhood affections" for each other. Knock the fucking wind out of me with a line like, "the worst part of it all was that they only ever wanted to love each other."

To me one of the worst parts of this production (of which there's a few) has got to be this was the apex of completely missed opportunities to explore. In the premise of "going by unreliable sources" their queerness would be suppressed information. I even think it plays into the dynamic between Rhae-Alicent-Criston in a kind of "Jennifer's Body" way where Rhae was really only interested in him as the object of Alicent's desires which I believe is made a little clearer in the books. A kind of "see this could have been us if you didn't marry my bag-of-bones father" for Rhaenyra who clearly had no aversion to consorts.

I'm sorry to go on this rant, and yes I KNOW - the counter arguments for many of these points. I would even argue some of them further such as the sapphic representation not being invalidated simply because both women do end up with men in the source material. If this was the case then why was "Portrait of a Lady on Fire" received so well? This at the very least to say if they made Alicent and Rhaenyra explicitly queer it would still be less controversial than what the queer men on that show got … Still its not even to say "it's a better way" to explore more of Rhaenyra and Alicent's characters but its at least A WAY to do it. More than we got. Surely both sides could agree on that.

Sorry, now I'm just being pedantic. As a queer woman naturally I have a bias but I still think this was objectively a missed opportunity to explore. Both girl's back stories could have been enriched and tbh a lot of HOTD fans I know also had the same complaint that the time skip came in too early. I think it also makes things less likely to be so divisive between TG and TB when you look at the central pillars of this conflict. You can truly grieve for Alicent and Rhaenyra and what they lost already while on the verge of losing it all. Anyway, I gotta go cry about my divorced lesbian war wives.

[hogans-heroes]

Me after the MOTA finale

My longest (spoilery) ep discussion yet under the cut:

There was…so much, this episode and I’m still raw and emotional. What a rollercoaster. Damn.

First just want to say we got some scenes we wanted like Crosby losing his shit over the locked supply room! 10/10 loved it and Rosie yelling “coca-cola” at the Russians will never not be funny.

I couldn’t breathe in the forced march. And Bucky’s state is still bad and Gale stayed so close. The prisoners getting shot by their own plane was horrible, and happened a lot. Can you imagine surviving years in a camp just to get killed like that?

The scene where the prisoners are in the train goddamn killed me i was not expecting such a sudden shift. Bucky comforting the one guy who was terrified. Them being convinced they were going to be killed and Gale and Bucky’s little exchange??? Gale saying he really did believe they would be the last two in the air, with that horrible lost expression like a kid who can’t understand? Them saying these years wpild have be hard without the other and they wouldn’t have done anything different?

Omg Gale really did say he’s “in” for an escape just to get Bucky to calm down and not get shot 😭

Gale looks so much younger with his fluffy escape hair it makes me sad, and his heartbroken look when his friend got killed…

Let’s talk about Rosie for a second. That scene of him in the concentration camp was so powerful because there was no words, nothing happening, no action/reaction like so many other films. You just sit there with Rosie and realize. Seeing that writing on the wall was…well of course there’s no words. That’s the point.

“Not even the earth that covers our bones will remember us.” The power of that statement sucker punched me and drove home even more determination to keep doing what I’m doing in historical work etc., telling these stories.

THE WAY I FLIPPED MY SHIT WHEN WE SAW THE COMMONWEALTH TROOPS IN THE LAST CAMP!!???! The Indian and Caribbean pilots??? The Sikhs!?? The Australians!!! The Algerians and French colonials??! In love

The last camp riot when the tanks showed up was SO INTENSE and amazing. And honestly the best symbolism of the show was the Nazi flag getting torn up but the mix of all nations that fought, then seeing all the different flags flying as the guys cheered.

Gale’s longing look when he saw the planes dropping food instead of bombs broke my heart. His smiles getting back in the plane and taking the food, seeing the people happy to be helped instead of scared/angry of being attacked. THIS BOY HAS MY HEART.

Bucky in the tower and in the Jeep along side Gale’s plane was TRAIN SLAM OF EMOTION MY GOD.

OF COURSE BUCKY WOULDNT LET THEM SHIP GALE’S LOCKER

Their smiles in the cockpit together, real, sweet smiles after all this time, and ending with all the planes flying away into that gorgeous sky…I have no words. It’s been such an emotional journey and was a powerful ending. I still feel like I could burst into tears any minute.

[sunflowerxthoughts]

Finally, here it is! The first date! Can be read as it’s own but highly recommend knowing the lore first. Thank you for the love this little blurb series is getting, sooo much more to come 💜

Eddie was coming to pick you up in the van with one big worry in his mind. You were perfect. Literal woman of his dreams. However, there is this nagging in his head, self doubt. Why would someone so fucking great date the resident freak of Hawkings?

It makes him want to turn arround. He is so torn. This is a one in a million chance, but can he promise something so precious won’t go unharmed? He was so hopelessly devoted to you yet he didn’t even know you that much. There was just something so enchanting.

When you open the door, smiling bashfully and looking so radiant, he feels like he has won the lotery. He understand right then and there that this is a chance he is not willing to miss on.

You are just as nervous. Letting Eddie in, it feels easy. He looks at you like he would never actually hurt, but you’ve learnt looks decive and you don’t know if can actually trust him not not break the heart you’ve put back together since you moved to the town.

“You look… wow.” He says, with his hand over his heart. “Sweetheart oh my god.”

“You look really good too, Eds.”

The drive to the dinner is far from quiet. Eddie is set on paying, having worked overtime dealing and at the mechanic’s, but still there is so much he can afford.

“I promise if you give me a chance, I’ll get you on nicer dates. I swear.”

“Eddie I couldn’t care less about money, honestly.”

The date goes smoothly, Eddie swoons as he hears you speak. You on the other hand are stunned. You thought the walls would be too much, yet with everything Eddie does, he chips at every brick, little by little.

Time ticks and you are both in his van, talking about life.

“So Wayne said something the other day. Something about your past.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much. That it wasn’t easy. That it was your story to tell.”

“Listen Eddie-“ you take a big breath, this is not first day material. “It’s hard. It’s not something I want to get into right now but I guess I must warn you.”

“Warn me? What?”

“It won’t be easy, Eddie. I come with baggage that I’ve learnt to mask. And I don’t want to get into… something, relationship or not, just to be left after because it gets too much.”

“I don’t understand, I don’t wanna leave.”

“All I’m saying is at some point it’ll be hard Eddie. I want to date you, I really do. Just being your friend would be great too because you have such a pure, beautiful light. But that is something I don’t have.” You look at him, hoping this is not scaring him. “I’m not saying you have to stay for the long run, we’ve only just met. I just need you to be honest with me. Because I can’t let the walls crumble again, Eddie. I need to know that things are okay, that you don’t feel like you have to run away.”

“I don’t think you will believe me right now, but I understand you. So much. I feel the walls, I know them all too well. I know I make everything lighthearted but this whole town hates me, sweetheart.”

“How could anyone hate you, Eddie?”

“That’s the thing, they do. They really do. I’ve spent all my life being made fun of. A freak. And then you come around and make me feel… human. Like I matter, like I don’t have to see life from an outside perspective. And it’s so fucking refreshing. So let me be that for you, I want to be that for you. I want to get to know you more. I need you to know I don’t see you as a challenge, I see you as someone worth getting to know. You don’t have to let your walls down right now, I get it. We can work each brick, little by little.”

The tension is high. Eddie wonders if he has just fucked up, while you wonder how you managed to be this lucky. It feels like luck. So you kiss him.

It’s tender and it’s sweet and you can feel Eddie melting onto the kiss. It doesn’t go any further than that. There’s a shyness to it, both of you just trying to memorize this on your brains.

“For the record, I do think you have a light. I think you are radiant. And you deserve to be taken care of, and cherished. And listen I don’t have much money, but I promise I’d give you the moon and stars if I could. I am full invested in this, in you. I’m not running away, not matter what.”

Original post Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Tag list: @josephquinnsfreckles @yujyujj @maedesculpaeusoubi 🦋

[jostyriggslover96]

Unexpected Connections Pt.2

Summary: Y/N has a complicated history with Navy men and has sworn off dating them completely. When she finds herself working at the Hard Deck to earn some extra money, Navy men are hard to avoid. Catching the eye of Rooster, Y/N is determined to avoid any potential feelings she may have for him, despite his persistence. Will Y/N be able to avoid her feelings for Rooster and avoid the Navy man that made her resent the profession? Or will she make some unexpected connections that she can’t shake off?

AN: Thank you so much for all the love on the first part of this story, I truly can’t explain what all the support means to me. I hope you all enjoy this part, there’s some drama ahead! If anyone wants to be tagged, let me know! Thanks again, you’re all the absolute best!

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol and drinking, complicated history with a parent, angst.

Word Count: 3.3k

Pt.1  Pt.3

Unexpected Connections Pt.2

“So, you and Rooster?” Penny slyly glances away as your eyes shoot daggers at her after she interrupts the blissful silence you were both enjoying while deep cleaning behind the bar. You could recognize that smirk on her face anywhere; it’s the same look she used to give your mom when she was dating and the look she started giving you once you entered the dating world.

“There is no me and Rooster,” you fire back as you continue to scrub the calcification building up on the edge of the sink. You knew Penny would never fall for that, she knew you just as well as your mother. The two were close as they were the only single moms in the area at the time; they helped each other raise their girls and navigate the world of single parenting. Penny and Amelia were just as much your family as your mother was. Now that your mother was living in Chicago to be with her aging mother, you could tell that Penny felt responsible to offer you the support any mother would. Even if it meant teasing you like a teenager who had their first crush.

 “Sure thing, just like there was no me and Mav. I saw that he gave you a ride home the other night, most men wouldn’t do that,” her eyebrows were raised, she clearly was not buying it.

 “Penny, you know I don’t date navy men. We haven’t even spoken since he dropped me off anyways. Let’s just move on,” you were now avoiding eye contact as she was sure to have more motherly advice for you. Or teasing, honestly it would probably be teasing.

 “Sweetheart, you and I both know you created that arbitrary rule for yourself when you were 15,” hands on her hips and motherly judgement in her eyes.

 “Who says it’s arbitrary? I refuse to let another navy man or top gun pilot hurt me,” your voice laced with malice. You were quickly losing any shred of patience you had for this conversation.

 “Y/N are you really going to miss out on what could be the happiest relationship of your life because of him?” Penny didn’t dare say his name around you, knowing it was a trigger for anger and anxiety. Sighing loudly, you threw your sponge down before rubbing your temples with your fingers.

 “They’re all the same, they care more about that elite program than they do their families.”

 “That’s not true for all of them, give him the benefit of the doubt,” Penny placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, trying to offer some form of comfort.

 “I watched my mother’s heart get torn apart by that man while I was growing up. All he cared about was ranking number 1 and going on missions. Penny, I was little, but I saw it. I remember her crying in the middle of the night thinking I couldn’t hear it. Then he just leaves and finds some other family, like we were nothing,” your voice raising as you shrug her hand off. Anger growing inside you as this conversation continued.

 “Y/N, your dad is a complete asshole. I agree with you, but not every pilot is the same.”

 “Penny stop!” you shouted, startling yourself and Penny. You never shouted, even in your angriest moments. “I’m taking my fifteen,” you mutter before walking off and out of the bar to sit on the patio by the beach.

 “What was that about?” Maverick asked as he approached the bar cautiously, sweat on his brow from the beaming afternoon sun.

 Penny let out a long sigh before answering, “Y/N and Rooster. There’s something there, everyone in this bar could feel it. But she won’t go anywhere near another man in the navy.”

 “Rooster wouldn’t stop asking Phoenix about her. Even took his shot at me,” Maverick said with a smile.

 “They would be perfect together! We have to get them together somehow,” Penny muttered, half to Pete, but mostly to herself as she began scheming.

 “Well, Rooster and the crew are playing dogfight football on the beach with the new recruits. She’s bound to witness quite the show while she’s on her break,” Maverick pointed out as Penny smiled, thinking fondly upon her memories of dogfight football. What a glorious game indeed.

 -------------

 As you sat down on the patio chair you noticed there was a large group of people running around on the beach. Leaning back and crossing your legs, you pulled your aviators off your shirt to shield your eyes from the sun. You saw a football flying through the air and what looked like Phoenix running after it. Ah, so this was a group of aviators. Of course it was, you could never escape them. You just hoped Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t among them.

 As you zoned out for a few moments, you saw a second football being tossed through the air. Wait, that couldn’t be right. You didn’t know much about football, but you did know there was traditionally only one ball in play. Rolling your eyes, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and tried to distract yourself by scrolling through Instagram.

 You were quickly disturbed as you heard someone shouting in celebration. Annoyed you glanced up and noticed Rooster in all his shirtless, sweaty, ripped glory tossing down the football and celebrating, Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but stare at the man who was sculpted like a Greek god. It was like a scene out of a movie.

 Was this man even real? Real people don’t look that gorgeous. You were practically drooling by this point when his head turned in your direction. He clearly noticed you gawking as he sent a wink your way. Quickly scrambling to avert your gaze and look busy, you practically dropped your phone.

 Peering back up to check if he was still looking, but he had gone back to the game and was intensely trying to wrestle the ball out of someone’s arms. Scanning the crowd you noticed Natasha standing with her arms crossed, a knowing smirk gracing her face. You felt your cheeks burn as your eyes darted back to your phone, realizing you had been caught staring by two people.

 As you attempted to focus on the different pictures of your friends on vacation or a cousin’s wedding, you found your mind drifting back to the shirtless sculpted Bradley. You had to admit, he looks amazing. You were adamantly against dating anyone in the navy but between his six pack abs, deep gravelly voice, and panty dropping smile you could absolutely get behind dating someone like him. Or in front of him, you thought chuckling to yourself.

 Realizing you were fantasizing about a man who was off limits to you, you shook your head to snap out of it. You needed to get it together; you vowed to yourself after watching your mother’s heart get shattered by a Top Gun pilot that you would never do the same. Bradley Bradshaw was off limits and that was how it was going to stay. But he was just so dreamy, god you knew he was going to be trouble.

 “We’re still on tomorrow?” a voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Glancing up from your electronic device you saw Phoenix standing in front of you with others approaching behind her. Her skin was glistening from the hot sun high in the sky. “For dinner Y/N?” she questioned again as you brought yourself back to reality.

 “Oh yeah, absolutely,” you stammered, still recovering from the heart stopping good looks of a certain pilot. “I’m off all day, so let me know when you’re ready after work,” you forced a smile as she nodded in agreement.

 “I’d love to take you to dinner too,” the voice of Rooster chimed in as he came to stand next to Phoenix. Before you could rebut his offer, he kept going, “We could go grab a bite now, I’m sure you noticed we all worked up an appetite,” he said with a smug smirk. You cheeks warming at his teasing.

 “I don’t think so Rooster,” you bit back before he could try to further convince you. You weren’t sure you had the will power to say no if he kept asking.

 “It’s Bradley,” he quipped.

 “Whatever,” you said with a roll of your eyes. His head tilting to the side, this was a game for him.

 “Come on, there’s this great taco stand not far from here,” he pushed.

 “Sorry Bradley, but I’m working.”

 “Oh, I’m sure I could talk Penny into giving you the night off,” flashing you those glimmering eyes. His voice was rough yet sweet as honey, and oh so tempting.

 “No, I’d rather stay here and serve the rowdy day drinkers,” you commented while standing and turning to head inside.

 “So you’ll go to dinner with Phoenix, but not me? I see how it is,” he called as you started walking away as more of a group formed around him.

 “Well you see Rooster, Phoenix isn’t trying to get into my pants. So we’re good,” you smirked leaving him stunned as the group around him laughed at his rejection. Flipping your hair over your shoulder, you took the final few steps to the door and pulled it open before heading inside without another glance at the shocked aviator.

 A short while later you were wiping down the bar, things were still fairly quiet aside from Rooster and his crew who were occupying the pool tables. You were zoned out, determined to get the mysterious sticky substance off the bar top when you heard someone clear their throat. Glancing up you froze, shocked to see the man in front of you. The man you could’ve gone your whole life without seeing again. The man standing in front of you was your father, if you could even consider him that…. Vice Admiral “Cyclone” Simpson.

 How didn’t you notice him come in? Kicking yourself for zoning out so you couldn’t hide from your father.

 “How have you been?” he broke the silence with a feeble attempt at conversation. No! You didn’t owe this man a damn thing. He lost the right to know how you were doing a long time ago.

 “What can I get you?” you tried not to stammer, but you could tell your voice was shaking. Hell, your whole body was shaking.

 “Whisky, two fingers,” he responded, noticing how cold you were to him. You turned around to pour his drink and avoid his lingering gaze. This man left you when you were one, missed countless birthdays, forgot to pick you up for visits, and even missed all your graduations. To you, he was nothing more than the sperm donor in this situation. Yet he still managed to fill you with rage and sorrow at the same time. Silently, you slid the drink across the bar to him, not saying another word to the man who didn’t deserve your time. “So, how’s your mom?”

 The fucking audacity of this man. “You have your drink, now you can go,” your voice laced with anger as you gestured for him to leave the bar. He stood there, holding his ground. It looked like he was going to say something else to you when you felt a hand on your back. Glancing to the side, you noticed Penny shooting daggers at Cyclone.

 “You heard her, you have your drink, it’s time to go,” she stood with you until he sauntered back to the table of men he was here with. “Sweetheart, why don’t you take the night off” Mav can help me out.”

 You felt like a ghost as you nodded your head in agreement, practically running from the bar after you grabbed your purse. He never came to the bar, why today? You cried the whole way home, and to your mom for an hour after that.

 Little did you know, Rooster witnessed the whole thing and found it quite interesting. He spent the rest of the evening grilling Phoenix about your reaction to Cyclone. Yet, he never guessed the man was your father. Bradley thought the man was your former lover or a current flame, it was hard to tell from the interaction. He practically begged Phoenix to ask you about him, having to make promises to her that he would have a hard time keeping in order for her to agree. Rooster needed to know who the man was to you, he wanted to do everything in his power to protect you from him.

 ---------------------

 The next evening you were seated in a booth at the local burger joint with Natasha laughing as she told the story of Jake having to do two hundred push-ups after betting Maverick he could beat him in a dogfight. Natasha had told her the intense story of one of their last missions, some kind of top secret nearly impossible to survive missions that they had to do insane training for. Apparently this mission was why the whole crew was called back to Top Gun in the first place. Natasha explained after the success of the mission, they were all stationed at Top Gun as some kind of elite team of the already elite pilots.

 The two of you chatted for a while, discussing your upcoming trip to Chicago, her plans to fix up her dad’s old motorcycle, your car being on its last life, her plans for a summer barbeque, and your new job at the Hard Deck. The two of you were fast friends when you met last year. Despite your distain for the navy, Phoenix was convincing you there were good people amongst the aviators.

 You were picking at your fries as Natasha transitioned the conversation in a direction you never expected. “So, how do you know Cyclone?” you practically choked on the fries you were chewing, her question like a punch to the chest. You chewed your fries slowly, trying to come up with some kind of excuse to avoid the real conversation.

 “Why do you ask?” you tried to come off casually. You hadn’t expected the subject of your estranged father to come up. On the other hand, you ran from the bar so quickly yesterday you had no idea how many people saw the tense exchange.

 “Things looked tense yesterday at the Hard Deck,” her voice filled with concern and compassion. You sighed, realizing you were about to lie to one of your very good friends. Natasha was always so vulnerable with you, even though it was partially against her nature. You knew it was only right to do the same. You weren’t going to let that man come between your friendships.

 “He’s uh, he’s my dad,” your eyes focused in on the neck of your beer bottle to avoid her gaze. You didn’t really talk about him with anyone, so this was incredibly awkward.

 “Holy shit, Bradshaw thought you might be sleeping together,” she sounded slightly relieved at this discovery. “I didn’t know he had any other kids.” Of course she didn’t. It’s not like he had pictures of you up in his office beside his two younger children and wife. You doubted he even had any pictures of you at all.

 “Yeah, he does.” Part of you felt hurt that your father never showed enough interest in you for people to know you existed in his life, but the other part of you was grateful. It took you years of therapy to accept that you wanted nothing to do with him, but that still didn’t make this hurt any less.

 “Wait, his wife looks way too young to be your mom.”

 “She is not my mother,” you voice sounding more annoyed than you intended. “He ditched me and my mom a long time ago. Like when I was a baby. I’ve never actually met his wife or his other kids. My mom raised me alone, with the help of Penny. She sacrificed everything to give me the best life. She’s the absolute best woman I know, aside from Penny,” you felt yourself growing slightly emotional. Your mom truly was the best mom out there. You hoped someday to be half the mother she is, just not with a navy man.

 Phoenix was silent for a moment, respecting your mixed emotions on the subject. “I knew he was a dick!” she commented, letting out an exasperated sigh. You couldn’t help but chuckle. He truly was a dick. The two of you laughed for a few minutes, you were finally making eye contact again. She just had a way of making any situation comfortable, which was not an easy job. You barely spoke about your father with anyone, not even most of your friends.

 “Fucking Rooster, thinking I would sleep with someone like Cyclone. The man is married,” you shuddered at the statement. “He’s a dick too.”

 Phoenix gave you a knowing look, she knew you didn’t really feel that way about Rooster. “He’s really not Y/N, you should give him a shot.”

 “I don’t date navy men, Tash. You know this about me.”

 “Why not?”

 “I’m not going to get hurt by anyone else in the navy,” you commented firmly.

 “So you’re going to let Simpson ruin your shot at what could be the greatest relationship of your life?” she scoffed.

 “Yeah right, Rooster would not be the greatest relationship of my life,” rolling your eyes at her statement

 “Y/N, Bradley is actually a good guy. Yeah, some guys in the navy are assholes, but that’s not him. He tours all the little kids around the base when they come with their classes. He always stays late at the bar to make sure we all get home okay. When Bob was sick, Rooster made his mom’s chicken noodle soup recipe for him. He even stayed at my bedside after I had to eject during a training exercise until I woke up to make sure I was okay. I even heard he gave you a ride home the other night when your car wasn’t starting, ,” she took a big gulp of her beer after her speech.

 Maybe you were wrong about him, maybe there was a good guy in the navy after all. The two of you were silent for a few minutes as you continued to pick at the remainder of your fries. “Thanks Tash,” you smiled at your friend. Even though you didn’t like to admit it, sometimes you were wrong. You just weren’t ready to let your guard down with Bradley quite yet. After all, you had promised yourself to never date a navy man for a reason, part of you still wasn’t convinced he was so different from the others. No, you still couldn’t go there with him. Your heart was too fragile. You weren’t going to let the dreamy aviator be the reason you broke your rules.

 You excused yourself from the table, needing a few minutes alone in the bathroom to recover from the intense conversation. Little did you know, Natasha would take this time to send Bradley a text, filling him in on the Cyclone situation. Rooster was shocked to say the least. Phoenix got a string of texts about how much of an asshole Cyclone was, what kind of monster could do that to their family, and how much he wanted to lay into him if he ever so much as gazed in your direction.

 You had a feeling Rooster was trouble, you just didn’t know that now he was going to be trouble that vowed to protect you at all costs.

[determinedowl23]

My own Voices designs!! I wanted each of them to have their own distinct color and article of clothing, which was inspired by @bubblybloob’s designs for them. Individual notes below the cut:

Broken: I wanted his outfit to look haggered and worn. At first I was thinking to have his outfit be like a medieval prisoner’s, but I also added elements of friar robes to go along with Tower’s offer of making us a priest for her. I also made his beak chipped and made it that he doesn’t have the lower set of feathers on his wings (Idk what they’re called- primaries and secondaries I think?)

Cheated: I was stuck on Cheated for so long lol I had no idea what I wanted to do for him. I asked a friend for some medieval outfit ideas and eventually he came up with an executioner and I loved it. He is bitter about his death to Razor. He wants to find a way to kill her himself and will do anything to make sure, even consistently sacrificing LQ in order to get more Voices and become more powerful. And there’s the obvious blade theme going on. I’m pretty sure I had a third reason for it that I forgot too 💀 Now that I’m thinking about it, the Razor route actually kinda mirrors the Witch route, but the roles are swapped…

Cold: I wanted him to wear something an assassin would wear, so I just gave him a cloak lol. I thought that would be a little boring, so I made the front of it look like a scarf. Because…….. he’s Cold.

Contrarian: The obvious thing to do was make him a jester, so I did. The top half of his collar and the color are inspired by Sophist because the Party Crashers brainrot never leaves (I’m watching the Vernias Subathon as I’m writing this post) and if you’ve seen even one of his videos- especially a Mario Party one, you’ll know that he and Contrarian have basically the same personality.

Hero: He’s the main guy, and obviously a hero, so I gave him a knight helmet and cape. The color of the helmet feather changes based on what your Chapter II is (ex. his feather will be magenta during Damsel to match Smitten, and it will stay magenta during Burned Grey. Honestly I may change this lmao) and it’s black in the endgame sequence. He also shifts his cape so that the clasp is in the center during the endgame.

Hunted: Hunted has a torn and tattered vest that’s green to help with camouflage. He and Paranoid have the largest eyes, both because they are always on the lookout for a threat, but it’s more obvious for him and his prey nature. He’s the best flier of all the voices- in fact, he honestly might be the only one who can fly.

Opportunist: Sleazy loser car salesman. He’s the most put together (physically) of them all, and uses this clean look to make himself look “professional” so he can weasel his way out of a sticky situation. I might change his yellow to something less bright, I’m not sure if I like it. I just wanted to make sure his color was distinct enough from Hero’s and Skeptic’s.

Paranoid: His hat and shoulder cape are that of a plague doctor’s, since he single-handedly keeps you alive during Nightmare, and even when Hero takes over the Heart Lungs Liver Nerves™ it’s still Paranoid who’s calling the shots that he thinks are the best. He and Hunted have the best self-preservation skills and best survival instincts.

Skeptic: Honestly Skeptic’s personality was hard for me to identify when I first met him, but I view him as someone who’s skepticism comes from a place of curiosity and an itch to learn as much as he can before coming to a definite conclusion. So I gave him a stereotypical detective cape

Smitten: He’s a bard serenading his beloved Princess! His vibrant magenta outfit represents his love for the darling Damsel <3 His outfit was pretty straightforward lmao. Also, his and Opportunist’s chest feathers are meant to resemble an ascot.

Stubborn: Originally I wanted to make him look like a gladiator, but I didn’t want to give him armor so that Hero would feel more distinct from the others. Plus, he just wants an all out brawl where you and your opponent are even, and if he doesn’t believe in traps, I don’t think he’d believe in armor. Because of that, he doesn’t care too much about clothing. A simple sash will do- a red one so that the bloodstains will blend in. He has a scar over his chest and his eye he gained from the fight with the Princess in Chapter I.

[silverbladexyz]

(I misread I thought the girl saved him but it was the opposite) The unrequited love fic is so sad it literally brought tears to my face that’s how good your writing is, like it gives me female rage that after seven years of friendship he chose a random civilian girl compared to the reader that had been there longer and knows him like the back of their hand. I’ll start referring to user as me since it’s the reader is you so I can go on a little rant, like I ripped my heart out and handed it to him yet he gave it back and chose another woman he barely knew for what? Because it was love at first sight or something as stupid as that like I would throw a tantrum I swear I take back everything I said about Chuuya I literally defended him with my soul but not even Dazai would (Dazai literally would but like that’s not the point) I would slap him and then just scream at him because I can’t that’s so unfair and like cry while doing so because I literally cry when I’m mad. I bet Kouyou would literally support reader but be torn apart because she wants Chuuya’s happiness but understands how frustrating it is for reader. I love the unrequited love fic it’s so good it makes me wanna fly away I can’t wait to read part three★´∀｀★

Anon thank you so much omg 😭😭😭💖

Honestly, your feelings are quite valid because... choosing someone else over your best friend of seven years hurts a lot :') especially when you're the one who knows Chuuya's life story better than she does. But even though he wouldn't understand why you'd slap him and scream at him because it's not his fault that he fell in love with Yasuko, he'd still feel guilty that you were suffering because of him 😔 And Kouyou would want Chuuya to be happy, but she would most likely advise reader to let him go because she knows all too well how having one's love ripped away right in front of your eyes feels like. Tbh not many of the Port Mafia members seem to know much about love, so the best that they can do is to offer support to you (not that you'd really tell your secret to them anyways) :')

Also I'm not too sure if you were reading the series in the correct order; because the part where reader saves Yasuko was the third and final part of the series. I'll link the series down below in the correct order, but please let me know if the way I formatted it on the fics were too confusing! :D

Part 1 Part 2 Third and final part

Enjoy! <3

[andiwriteordie]

congrats on 1,500! ✨

For the prompt: how about something on Joyce's feelings on established (new or not) Byler? Just how she feels finally being able to see her boy happy (and with the boy who has been his side since forever)~

ahhh thank you so so much!!! ❤️

oh i love love love this prompt so much! here you go!

no matter how long it takes 

Will is late to breakfast, and absolutely no one is surprised.

“Do they think that we do not know?” El asks curiously, her mouth stuffed full of Eggo waffles. The food in her daughter’s mouth makes it a little difficult for Joyce to understand what she’s saying, but she gets the basic gist.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, kid,” Hop scolds, nudging their daughter’s shoulder. “Jesus, who raised you?”

El just makes a face back at him, and Joyce shakes her head, taking a sip of water. “I don’t think they know that we know,” she chuckles. “Jonathan didn’t, back when he and Nancy did the same thing.”

Her eldest kid groans, giving her an exasperated look. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Sweetheart, you came downstairs with lipstick on your cheek,” Joyce says with a smirk. “And you still had poor Nancy climb out the window. How stupid do you think I am?”

Jonathan just rolls his eyes, and he picks up a slice of bacon, munching on it absently. “I tried telling Will that you somehow know everything,” he remarks. “So, maybe he knows that we know.”

Hopper hums, taking a sip of his coffee and looking back up. “Nope,” he says, and he shakes his head. “I heard Mike scrambling to hide when I woke the two of them up.”

“Idiots,” El deadpans. “And what happened to the three inch rule?”

“Don’t worry,” Hop reassures. “I’m just biding my time. It’s fun to see Wheeler sweat a little bit.”

“You’re evil,” Joyce deadpans, shoving her husband’s shoulder lightly. Hopper just gives her a crooked little grin, and Joyce shakes her head, glancing back towards the staircase. 

It’s funny how much their lives have changed in the past several months. Honestly, Joyce’s life has been a rollercoaster of change since that fateful day back in 1983 when her boy was kidnapped, and she’s only just now starting to feel a semblance of normalcy return to their lives. It’s… nice. It’s really, really nice.

Because all of them are happy. She and Jim have been married for a couple months now. The wedding was a small affair—just a nice courthouse wedding in Indy with a reception for their little group of Upside Down survivors. Jonathan and Nancy are still together and planning to go off to the East Coast this coming fall for college. El is happy too—single for now, though Joyce thinks there might be something between her daughter, Max, and Lucas. She still needs to find out more about that, but either way, as long as El is happy, Joyce is too.

And then there’s Will.

Her boy is happier than he has been in years, and God, it brings such a warmth and a joy to Joyce’s heart. She still remembers sitting with Will back at their old home—the one haunted by harsh words and beatings from Lonnie, the one scarred by monsters tearing through their walls and separated the two of them, the one torn apart by horrors that threatened to consume her youngest son. She remembers a warm summer day in particular when Jonathan had stumbled downstairs, his tie crooked and his face marked with Nancy Wheeler’s lipstick.

She remembers Will’s words that day.

“I’m not… gonna fall in love.”

Joyce hadn’t said it back then, but she’d known. She knows her kids, and even though Will hadn’t been ready to tell her yet, Joyce had already known the truth.

“I’m not… gonna fall in love,” her sweet, quiet son had said, when he already was.

A lot has changed since that day, and thank God for that. It’d take Joyce forever to explain how much things have changed, but she thinks one of her most favorite changes is the shift in Will’s demeanor from a sad, resigned belief that love wasn’t for people like him to a happy, silly, and lovesick attitude that follows him around all the time.

Will is happy, and he’s in love with his best friend, Mike Wheeler.

And to Joyce’s delight, Mike Wheeler is just as happy, and he’s just as in love with Joyce’s boy.

So, when Will stumbles downstairs, wearing a hoodie that Joyce knows doesn’t belong to him, with his hair ruffled like someone’s been running their hands through it, and his cheeks flushed bright red, she can’t help but smile. Her family holds back their snickers as Will takes his seat at the table, and Joyce just smiles at her son.

“Morning, baby,” she greets, and Will looks up, meeting her eyes. 

“Morning, Mom,” he says, a small smile on his face. “Sorry, I… uh… I overslept.”

“Mhm.” Joyce nods, and she gestures to the plate of food sitting in the middle of the table. “Well, there’s still plenty left to eat if you’re hungry.”

She pauses, glancing at the front door and considering her options for a moment. 

And well… it’s not fair to only tease Jonathan, right?

“There’s enough for Mike too,” Joyce adds with a grin, and she fights her laughter as Will nearly chokes on the piece of toast he’d started to eat. “You know… if you wanna run outside and catch him before he leaves.”

Her boy’s face gets bright red, and beside him, both El and Jonathan snicker, nudging him teasingly. “Mom,” Will starts to say, and Joyce just raises an eyebrow. 

Will deflates, and he covers his face with his hands, clearly embarrassed. “You’re sure it’s okay?”

“Oh, just go get your boyfriend, kid,” Hopper chuckles, and he gives Will an amused look. “We all know he’s probably climbing out the window and running away as we speak.”

As Will groans again, Joyce just laughs, smiling at her son. “Hop’s right,” she agrees. “Come on. Mike’s part of the family. Now go catch him before he leaves!”

Will lowers his hands, and for a brief moment, he looks up at Joyce, meeting her eyes. There’s something in his eyes that warms Joyce’s heart—a tentative yet hopeful and relieved look. 

For a moment, Joyce remembers the fourteen year-old who once sat next to her at the kitchen table, pouring syrup all over his eggs. She remembers how her boy had barely been able to meet her eyes, how quiet and dejected he’d sounded that day, and how badly she wanted to fix this for him.

A lot has changed since then, and Joyce thinks Will knows it too.

An understanding passes between the two of them, and Will just smiles. “Thanks, Mom,” he whispers.

Then, as quickly as he can, Will hurries to the door, running outside in hopes of catching up to his boyfriend, and Joyce just smiles.

A lot has changed over the past several years.

And for the first time in a long, long time, Joyce and her family are happy.

[shywhumpauthor]

Wait I want to remain anonymous do this one instead lol

Part 2 of the yandere one?

Maybe whumpee needs a punishment. Nothing that'll scar though ;)

Honestly anon you’ve got me hooked with this. I have no clue what I’m doing, all I know is that it is fun.

Previous

Cw: kidnapping, mentioned past murder, blood, noncon touching, manipulation, emotional abuse, manhandling, creepy whumper, past torture/abuse, captivity, idk it’s creepy and yandere and brutal. Lots of manipulation

Whumpee’s hands were shaking as they stared down at the white porcelain tiles laid in diamonds across the bathroom floor, the dark grey grout making the individual pieces appear luminous in a simple, minimalistic pattern. Their eyes drifted across the rows, unfocused and watery as they counted them over and over. Somewhere in the back of their mind, the answer was already stored, along with the deeply repressed memories of all the nights they had spent alone, cold and hurting laying on that floor, unable to pick themself up and drag them to the bath to clean up.

Their skin was warm, flushed with the heat of so many conflicting emotions, cooled only slightly as they braced their palms against the edge of the bath where they now sat. The faint rush of water buzzed in their ears, but it did nothing to block out the terrible noises that seemed to be playing on repeat through their skull. The cries and screams, gasps and pleas that were muffled by a mouthful of blood looping on an endless cycle, with each return of the dreaded sounds a new pinprick stabbed through their heart. Long since torn from their chest, they felt numb, disturbed only by light tremors as goosebumps rose along their skin. Even bundled up, Whumper’s jacket that smelled terribly like them wrapped tightly around their shoulders to protect them from the cold air outside, Whumpee felt as if they had been left bare in a snowstorm.

Their body reacted before their mind once the sink shut off and Whumper turned to them, flinching back before they could begin to see what was happening. For a fleeting moment, they tensed, anticipating the wicked sting of a slap to their face, but contrary to their fears Whumper just sighed. When Whumpee looked up, forcing their shoulders back from where they had hunched over, Whumper’s gaze was not angry like they had expected. They just looked sad, exhausted. For a second, it unnerved them, when Whumper crouched to one knee. They had cleaned themself in the sink moments before, scrubbing their hands and face clean from all residue of the night before, but it wasn’t enough to disguise the truth. Whumpee could see the speckles of dried scarlet on their shirt, decorating the exposed flesh where their shirt sagged against their collarbone and the cuffs of their sleeves. The tender affection in their eyes did not hide the ruthless murderer they had witnessed an hour before.

“You’ll be alright, my love,” Whumper sighed quietly, their voice gentle like the early morning waves against the shore, the sunrise beyond that paints the sky rosy and golden. A beautiful dawn to hide the storm clouds projected far beyond. Red sky in morning, sailor’s take warning after all.

They raised the washcloth which they held to Whumpee’s face, the pressure behind their touch light and forbearing and all too much. Soaked in warm water, the dreaded being in front of them began to work away at the since dried smears of blood across their cheek, a mark they had left earlier. To anyone else, it may have looked like a pitiful attempt to soothe them, an accidental smudge while trying to provide comfort in face of fresh trauma. Whumpee knew better than that. Whumper didn’t do accidents. They didn’t make mistakes. Everything they did was intentional, cold and calculated through the most manipulative of minds. For a while, Whumpee had fallen prey to this façade. They had so desperately clung to the affection, turning a blind eye to the warnings that came along. With a hand caressing their cheek, they were once blind to the blood staining the palm.

They weren’t blind anymore. They felt every flicker of contact, every prolonged graze as Whumper slowly cleaned their face. They hadn’t asked, offered their assistance or even allowed Whumpee a chance to do it themself. From the car they had led them straight inside, through the door with more locks than any bank’s most secure vault, to the bathroom where they had sat them down on the side of the bathtub and told them to stay there. Stay there and be good for me. I’ll get you cleaned up.

“I know you don’t see it this way, but I’m only trying to help you.”

The warm of the cloth turned to ice against their cheek, Whumpee could no longer hold their gaze. Emotion swelled in their throat, a lump against their windpipe obstructing each breath.

“I know you see me as the bad guy, but I promise you, Whumpee, all I’ve ever done was for you.”

Words built and died against Whumpee’s lips as Whumper’s fingers brushed their skin, the cloth dragging lightly across their jaw. They didn’t look up.

“Do you know how much it hurt when you left me?” Whumper’s voice dropped to a whisper, and Whumpee couldn’t help but buckle under the sudden tension in the air, their shoulders curling inwards. “I have given so much to you, my love, and yet still, it wasn’t enough.”

Their touch was delicate, dancing across Whumpee’s face, the cloth dropping to the floor discarded as Whumper hooked a finger under their chin, the pressure enough to be commanding without being willful. Teasing, toying with them. Like a cat with a mouse, pawing lightly at it’s pretty before unveiling the razor claws from the innocent tufts of fur.

“You’re confused, Whumpee. All I’ve ever wanted to do was make you happy, but you still run from me. I tried to give you space, and look at the mess you’ve gotten into. You need me, I know you don’t want to admit it, but it’s true.”

It’s true. It’s true. You need me. You’re nothing without me. You hear me? Nothing.

“No.” Whumpee whispered, twisting their head away with a spur of movement. “No, you.. caretaker told me everything. You- you hurt me.”

Whumper paused, taken aback by the sudden outburst. For a moment, they stood still, frozen in place. Then they stood, straightening to their full height to tower over Whumpee, expression unreadable as the sudden vantage cast angular shadows from the vanity’s lighting across their darkened face.

“Caretaker lied to you, Whumpee.” Their voice was no longer kind. They reached down and grabbed them by the wrist, pulling them to their feet in a rough movement. Still stunned from the earlier events, Whumpee’s body did not know how to disobey, leaving them to stumble up while their legs wobbled. “All they ever did was lie. They were trying to turn you against me. And it worked, I see. Not even a month, and they’ve filled your head with these.. these delusions.”

“Stop,” Whumpee’s voice broke, a tear leaking from the corner of their eye, spilling down their cheek. Not the first, certainly not the last that would fall. “Let me go, Whumper, please-”

They were already being pulled towards the door, the grip on their arm firm. They couldn’t pull away, not with their exhausted weakened struggles. They knew where they were going long before Whumper led them to the hall.

“You know I hate doing this to you, Whumpee, but you’re not giving me much of a choice,” Whumper’s voice was tight, their face turned away as they marched up to a door. A terrible, familiar door. “I’ll bring you some fresh clothes and supper in a while. We’ll see if you’re thinking straighter tomorrow morning, and go from there.”

The door was pushed open, the old hinges creaking in protest. The tears were streaming down their face now, but Whumpee couldn’t bring themself to beg this time. They stumbled when Whumper gave them a light push, feet nearly falling from under them as they were directed into the dark room.

“I love you, Whumpee. That’s why I’m doing this.” Whumper gave a final sigh, their face illuminated dimly. Expression solemn, the door shut, blocking out the last bits of light before the lock clicked into place.

—————————————

I’m having way too much fun with this.

Any interest in a pt 3?