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precious-little-scoundrel · 2 days

Text

|| Radio ||

Requested plot points? ☑️

Circa: early February 1944

Immediate previous fic: Favorite Escape

Summary: when your hodge podge radio won’t work, who should ya call? Probably the flight engineer

Warnings: usual universe warnings apply, 18+ but nothing very alarming really happens in this one, references to others are made, some potential slut shaming in the beginning if ya squint? perhaps some queer baiting but it’s the Buckies rolling around on the flooor, they’re one massive queer bait lbr, it’s not me. Also. My shit Crystal Radio making descriptions- don’t come for me I haven’t made one and I spent five hours falling down a rabbit hole as to how the guys made them in the camps and at the end of the day I said: screw it! And went with one of the Brit’s scenarios 🍻

Edited only by my tired little eyes, full warning and have mercy 💋

Also, just a note I feel compelled to make- this fic centers around women in the army, in a war, which they’re spending under dire conditions in a POW camp. Yes there is love here, there is also hierarchy and discipline and the enforcement of that does not make one character or another necessarily callous or less loving. They are their ranks first and foremost as all signed up for.

“They’re forging papers, you know.” Maureen broached the topic to Egan one day, late February and when her cheeks were still bruised from Ida’s book.

Bucky paused his tracing of a map, sooty finger trailing along a river with the same incomprehensible name as its twin running parallel, he didn’t know anything about papers or anyone making them and she knew that. “Who?”

“Good ones. Identification, passports.” She enumerated.

“Who?”

“The Poles. The ones with the-“

“-the liquor.” he finished for her, remembrance and condemnation heavy in his wry tone. “The ones you stayed out all night with.”

“Stayed long enough for them to get drunk enough to show me.”she replied, without heat, which was surprising.

“Some grand plan of yours, huh?” He bit back a laugh, it was a fine way to cover her ass for being insubordinate. It was a way he’d likely try if he was in her place.

“No.” she swore instead. “Just luck, I happened to see them. They got careless. Maybe an answer to all Jack’s prayers.”

“Yeah. Anything to give that rosary a break.”

“Yeah.”

“You asked them?”

“What for?”

Bucky regarded her with thinning patience but something kept him from snapping, the feeling of a riddle still to be solved. “For some papers.” he clarified, measured and intent, she knew how much easier that would make their plans for Ida.

Maureen shook her head, glancing down at her twisting hands, “I didn’t want to-“ her mouth twisted too, “-I wanted to ask a superior first.”

Bucky considered that for a moment, slightly touched at her newfound wisdom, “Why not ask Buck?”

She shook her head again, auburn hair curling under her chin just so, even here in the stalag she had some traces of the old charm. “He’s got too much to worry about for me to be bringing in hypotheticals.” she was so upset by something she would not even meet John’s eye and he felt a slice of remorse for how he hadn’t even noticed the ground down change in her since she got here, his drinking buddy and the soft fleshed rival of merry old English days was a gruff and battered and sullen woman; being a red blooded American male, he regretted that dismal change. “And I'm worried about what to bargain with. What can I promise? We haven’t got much and I don’t have— there’s not much anyway, but what we’ve got I didn’t wanna promise. Not without-“ she still hadn’t met his eye, he tracked hers; a furious roving of pale blue back and forth across the floorboards and it made Bucky itch.

“Who signs these papers?” Bucky asked, thinking the logistics through, knowing she’d perk up if he brought them up.

“Haven’t a clue. Maybe they haven’t figured that part out yet. I don’t know. I just know they’ve got papers.”

“Good ones.”

“Yeah.”

“We haven’t got much.” he agreed, clicking his teeth in thought, “What’d you give them for the liquor?”

“They just invited me.”

“Didn’t have to lend a hand or nothin’?” he balked and Maureen threw him a glare that seemed more hurt than rage, and chastened by a voice inside that sounded much like his mama’s, he amended with sheepish humor, “Hell, feel like lending a hand myself these days, if it’d get me a whisky.”

Her gnarled fist curled white in her lap, she managed hoarsely, “They just wanted to talk about home. To someone who hadn’t heard about it a million times before.”

“They got cigarettes?” he asked.

“As most common payment for their booze -they’ve got enough to insulate their shack three deep.”

“Cigarettes won’t cut it then.”

“I’ve been thinking.”-

“Yeah?”

“The radio. I’m the only one who doesn’t think it’s worth the risk but, I know, it doesn’t matter, it’s happening. Gale’s going to keep trying. And if it works-“ she rubbed at her eyes, tired and unsure, “-that’s quite the bargaining chip.”

Bucky nodded slowly, eyes narrowing as his smile grew a touch broader, “News of the outside world.” he was half in agreement, “Buck asked for a week. Been four days.”

“He’s stumped.” Maureen retorted instantly. “And he’ll stay that way and he’ll go nuts and you’ll go die going over the fence and then he’ll have no reason left not to die too.”

Bucky whistled, low and chiding, “You’re full of rainbows today, Candy.”

“You know who he oughta ask.” she shook off the barb. “But he won’t. And I don’t want him risking it for this thing anymore than anyone else, but you all want it so bad, and they’ll shoot us for it if it works or not. I’m not asking her. But you would. Might as well get shot for it working, right? Isn't that what you said yesterday? You know who he should ask.”

Bucky’s keen eyes showed the moment it dawned on him, his eyebrows shot up and his mouth sagged and he ran a weathered hand over his face, “Awww shit, Candy.” came garbled behind his palm. “Ah shit.” he said again with conviction as he shoved the hand into his pocket, wretched acknowledgment of her point clear on his face.

“I didn’t want to suggest it, told Ida it’s a fucking dangerous thing and I’ll never forgive if— but you all—“

Bucky grounded aloud, “Nah, nah she’s -Lu would solve it.” he muttered, shushing her. “Demarco really pummeled you the other day, huh?” he added, and that got her to meet his eye, she looked spooked and a little incensed, “Saw him fuckin’ you up behind B compound but sheesh, s’like he hollowed you out worse than a jacolantern; yer shifty as hell.”

“He-“ Maureen still felt like blanching at the memory of Benny’s terribly correct opinions, his disappointed eyes and his fist full of her flight jacket asking her what in the living fuck was wrong with her besides a concussion, a sick childhood and an ever nauseating jealousy of Buck Cleven’s paternal time and effort, “-he had some admonitions. After…after the other night.”

Bucky hummed, shitty smirk taking up residence on his face, “How ‘bout that.”

“I’m gonna be better.” she muttered and Bucky felt for her, could almost taste the echo of his identical and hollow determination to climb the mountain of bad habits when weak from spuds and pneumonia. He told himself the same every morning and fell into bed condoning his failure every night, like a ritual.

“You’re gonna get us those papers.” he corrected, shoving off the wall to come near her, give her the full Major treatment and maybe a friendly hand, “And you can promise your drinkin’ buddies news from the radio.”

Maureen nodded in understanding, no joy or animation left in her green eyes. She used to enjoy a bit of subterfuge, now she only felt hollow misery at the thought that she'd dragged Lu into this, too. This risk she hated so much and yet no one cared. Lu would be glad to be dragged in, it’s true, she was itching at the chance to be useful and to make Gale proud, it’s how the girl was wired. It’s how most girls were wired, Maureen supposed, desperate to make Gale Cleven approve. Lu’s enthusiasm wouldn’t make the sight of her being made to kneel in the mud and have a bullet put in her head any easier, wouldn’t make Maureen feel any less responsible for it when her lifeless body thudded to the earth.

All that lovely goodness stamped out.

Over a radio.

Bucky’s hand felt too hard and too big on her shoulder. He had gone before the vision cleared, mud and wire and the freezing main square at Ravensbruck fading back to the musty bunk room. Maureen shook herself and stood up to make herself somehow appealing, reamniante some semblance of the cheerful rashness that had led her to the Polish combine in the first place: she found it hard to inspire. She’d like to count that a victory but she knew better, she wasn’t reformed she was just tired.

A washed face and a fake smile and the promise of news from outside would have to be enough to bank all their risks on, it would have to be.

“Crank,” she greeted the man in the hall, flashing him clean, water brushed teeth and her gentlest, freshly soot lined eyes, “I’ve been tasked by Major Egan with an errand, spare a minute to babysit me?”

__________________________________

Bucky finds Buck Cleven in his own bunkroom, Demarco outside on watch and that’s all Bucky needs to know to guess the radio is out and Buck’s working like a fiend yet again to make it work. Sure enough, he’s hunched over the table with it, mittened hands shaking from cold and exhaustion and a sheen of sweat on his forehead despite the paltry sweater he wears.

Bucky walks in and Gale gives him a soft, acknowledging glance before continuing to his work. Bucky takes up his usual place behind Buck’s left shoulder to watch and Buck, being used to it, goes on.

“My little Kriegie Marconi, huh?” Bucky allows the nagging impulse he has felt for weeks while standing in this position to finally exert itself, and his forefinger lifts and swirls in the curling gold strands of hair at the nape of Gale’s neck, his friend almost bolts away but then seems to choose a prey’s tactic and just stills, goes very still and Bucky scritches the scalp beneath his grab in assurance he don’t meant anything by it. He doesn’t think he does, at least.

Gale, wary and with a voice close to mechanized it’s so stilted, inquires with ever-present politeness, “You alright Bucky?”

It’s better than that whole ‘major’ business; getting called Major as if that meant shit anymore. “Yeah, ‘course I am.” Bucky rakes his fingers through the hairs there at the nape of that dainty neck, scritches the scalp with all four of his main ones, and uncovers a white long scar sliding round once he lifts the hairs there. “Why wouldn’t I be? Gonna be a father soon.”

Buck does jerk then, away from his touch and wheeling his chair around to glare at Bucky; it’s an impressively executed little pirouette and John misses the feel of his warm neck and oil soft hair. “Jesus John.” he reprimands.

“We’re gonna get outta here Buck.” John swears, he’s so sure of it because he cannot in all his thinking and predicting ever imagine a scenario where they don’t, and he chooses to think it’s not delusion but a good omen. “Ida’s gonna have that baby and when it’s safe we’ll all meet up.”

Gale is looking at him like he’s his own father again, Bucky knows that look, it always makes him equal parts ashamed and desperate, “Jus’ like that.” Gale mocks in a husky gust.

It’s devastating, and it’s intended to be, and Bucky could bear that with better humor if he could still touch Gale and his hair. “Just like that.”

Gale hums and it’s a mean sorta vocalization that makes Bucky’s heart thud and his skin prickle hot, it’s the kinda noise you kiss off a person, he thinks, but it’s Buck and so he doesn’t know what to do with it. “It’s gonna get you killed.” Buck is saying instead and Bucky lets him, “I know you all think she’s cracked up and maybe she has but it wouldn’t hurt to listen to Kendeigh sometimes when she’s tellin’ ya shit that a five year old could accurately guess, -goddamn it.”

His voice rose to a strong rage by the end and Bucky takes a chair opposite him, sick of standing there like a dumb dog waiting for his scolding to be over. “So what.” Bucky challenges him, “We just wait around and Brady pops out a child and the krauts let us keep it and it’s our new mascot and we all sing zippidy doo da, huh? Huh, Buck?”

Gale’s hands fell away from his face with a slam to the table, a shocking degree of anger showing for a split second and it gave Bucky an odd degree of gratification. “I jus’ want you to find a plan with better odds.”

Bucky sniffed and leaned forward, went in for the kill and Gale was looking at him like he expected it, like it was his turn to play daddy to everyone here and Gale for once was so beaten down he wouldn’t just allow the changing of the guard, he was close to angry at its lateness. It made Bucky’s heart thud.

“I’ve been listening to Kendeigh.” Bucky refuted briefly, “And we’ve got a plan.” Gale gave him a tired look of encouragement to go on, “How long’s it been since you slept? Huh, well, we got a plan. Practically perfect, or it will be, just need the radio.”

“Ain’t giving this away.” Gale said, “Not for anythin’, even useless.”

Bucky patted the table top in easy assurance, if he could have reached Buck’s thigh, he’d have patted that instead, “No, no, don’t need to give it away, just need it to work. So,” he softened his voice and his eyes tightened, “I’m callin’ Lu in.”

Oddly, Gale does not fight it. Not aloud, at least. There’s an anguished look of hate on his face and Bucky mirrors it. It’s for this place and the fucking awful choices they have to choose from every goddamn day.

“You run this by Ida?” is all he asks.

Bucky pops his flaking lips audibly, “What, need us both gangin’ up on you to agree? She’ll sign off. Smith’s an officer. Gotta remember that sometimes, Buck.”

The way his Buck swallows hard and dry contradicts his words, “I do remember that.”

“Really?” Bucky’s mouth gives a soft smile of doubtful incredulity and Gale’s mimics it, mournful but a smirk all the same, “Feel like she should answer to ‘Gale’s Baby’ these days. Lieutenant Smith who?”

Gale scoffs, “Careful now.”

“No really, she’s an officer and she wants to be treated like one. It’ll do her good to have work. Her kinda work.”

“Could get her killed.”

“Layin’ in her bunk could do that.”

Gale grunts, its sounds like an agreement.

“So I say Lieutenant Smith gets put on radio detail. Like her goddamn job description suggests. Huh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Gale lets out a shaky agreement.

“Aaaaand,” Bucky draws it out as he rises again and saunters over to Buck who is ready for him and loose this time, “how bout I go back to bein’ the one you’re frettin’ ‘bout all the time. Got me almost jealous of the girl. How ‘bout I do. Huh?”

Gale’s scoff is fond as anything as he looks up at John with cheerful derision, “And you ‘bout to be a father? Make me an old man? Fuck no, ya looney.”

“Alright.” Bucky concedes with hands up in surrender before lurching forward and grasping Gale’s rickety chair back by its wobbly spokes and hefting it partially off the ground, beautiful and outraged prude of an occupant still seated in it, “Then I’ll play daddy and put you to bed, how ‘bout that.”

“John Egan for fucks sake-“ Gale’s fists pounded on the meat of his shoulders and his outraged protests wafted against Bucky’s neck and his jabbing knees collided with the meat of his thighs and Bucky hadn’t felt so close to him or so happy to be alive since England.

“Major sir, the hell is goin’ on?” Demarco’s tame inquiry from the safety of the doorway made them both lose their grapple and they collided together onto the floor, bunk bed barely missed by their heads and the hapless chair mixed up between their limbs.

Bucky grinned, hip sore from his fall and kidneys suffering from Buck’s trapped elbow there, “Puttin’ Goldilocks to bed.” he replied.

DeMarco processed that and the scene before him with grave sobriety before saluting lazily and turning to go, “Right on, sir.”

John did his best to rise up without further pinching Gale who was indeed trapped beside him and beneath him, chair legs wound between a lanky human leg in a puzzle that Bucky realized might take some caution to untangle without harm. Strangely, Buck wasn’t moving, he was just looking up at him like a cat would their clumsy master who has done somethin’ stupid which was a surprise to neither. It was so innocuous a look and so nostalgic, it winded Bucky with the realization he hadn’t seen it in ages, just as he hadn’t felt his boney ribs against his own and the feel of his elegant hands yanking him around in a fight. This miserable place really was stomping out the glow in the best people.

“Ya know Buck,” he ventured, clearing his throat for extra casualness, “I’ve missed you.” When Gale only kept looking up at him, perfect porcelain face with its unsettling scars and wary eyes without a lick of storm in them, John Egan grabbed his shovel and dug his own grave a little deeper, drug a finger down his cheek. “Missed all this.”

Bucky didn’t know what he meant by “this” but it felt safer and worse all at once, since he did miss Buck but he and Buck never used to hang out on floors with a chair as chaperone. Mercifully, Buck neither points that out nor moves away, acting very much like he needed to heaped on the floor with Bucky and a stray chair every bit as much as John did. Like it’s doing him good.

“And you couldn’t’ve jus’ said.” Gale murmurs with the softest eye roll of the century and Bucky feels like beaming and it must show in his face so strong and bright after a sunless winter that after a flash Gale’s cheeks flame from it and he averts his eyes.

“I dunno Buck, could I?” Egan asks one blushing cheek and Gale hasn’t got a good reply for that, so they just lay there on the floor.

“Go on now, get off me.” Gale doesn’t shove at him, he presses his hand to John’s forehead like he would a dog and John goes, obedient as one.

———————————————————————-

They found Lu with Murph and Benny and Brady, measuring out what seemed to be lot lines between Love Shack #9 and the next combine, boot scuffed perimeters already visible in the light snow and drawn in a decently tidy rectangle. There were guards loitering nearby, nosey as always with their cigarettes and their antsy dogs anytime someone did something out there besides piss or pace or stare at the fence.

“What’s all this?” Bucky inquired cheerfully, coming up to them with Gale, bundled and shivering behind him.

Benny looked up from tilling a furrow with his boot, right where Lu’s mittened finger pointed out. “It’s for the garden. S’posed to be spring before long.”

“A Chicago man oughta know better, Benny.” Egan snarked.

“Need us?”

Bucky sniffed, a casual set to his body that belied his quest, “Just the little one.”

Smith promptly looked startled, then eager. “All well Majors?”

“Need your advice on the color of my cufflinks with this suit.” Bucky extended his arm and beckoned her, “C’mon back in for a minute. One of you too, need a watch to go with the cufflinks.”

———————————————————————

With Benny on guard, Brady and Kendeigh having excavated the radio’s shell from the floorboard and table leg in which it resided, the Buckies stood over Smith’s small frame as she sat at the table and inspected the simplistic device with keen eyed appreciation for the construct.

“It’s really marvelous.” she assured Cleven, running her fingers over the carefully coiled wire and precarious pin.

Gale didn’t even crack a smile. “What’s wrong with it?” he asked instead.

She shook her head, a frown gathering. “Never made one-“ she cautioned.

“-but you get the idea.”

“Yes sir, I do.”

“So what’s wrong.”

Lu ran her fingers over the wire, again and again, the dusty metal not insulated, just bare copper, likely stripped from somewhere. It reminded her of early days as a cadet when they threw chicken wire mixed with hydraulic lines at herself and her fellow rookie engineers and told them to sort it, testing to see if they knew which was which. It had been so rudimentary she had wanted to laugh until she realized others were being flunked.

This was so basic she was stumped.

“Take your time, Lu.” Bucky spoke up after a burdened pause during which she could almost feel Major Cleven breathing down her neck.

“Candy, can I try with the headphone?” she asked at last, frustrated and out of her element, just a few months out of a plane and she had already lost her touch.

Maureen passed it over and Lu pressed it to her ear, not to discern what was quite obviously radio silence, but to imagine the whole process in reverse, track it down the cord all the way to the base, each possible breakdown of the conduction.

She fingered the ramshackle diode with burgeoning suspicion. “What’s your crystal?”

“That’s just…lead.” Cleven muttered.

“From?”

“Ground pencils.” Bucky supplied cheerfully.

Smith bit her lip, “We need sulfur added. Lead won’t conduct on its own.” She figured Cleven knew that, the grim and unmoving set of his mouth suggested so.

“Just- sulfur?” Maureen asked.

“If I had sulfur we could add it to the lead dust, ignite it and-“ Smith grinned at Kendeigh, knowing that she alone may have shared her enjoyment of a small conflagration from time to time, “burn it down and you’ve got something close enough to Galena. Just need a pinch of it should work.”

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets and surveyed the mostly morose room. All except for the two girls grinning at each other over the hypothetical of a little chemistry experiment in a highly flammable wooden combine.

“We’ve got sandy soil.” Buck’s contemplative drawl spoke up, “Dunno if we could extract enough pure sulfur.”

Maureen stared back at Egan instead, “Other sectors have gotten portions of kits, chemistry kits, radio kits, they’ve been smuggled in with all sorts of stuff. Inside of a violin, oat bags. Nothing to fully build something. They might have sulfur. I could make inquiries and- well, Jack could pick it up next time the band goes over C compound to entertain the poor Aussie bastards.”

“How do you kno- nevermind, actually. Nevermind.” Bucky broke off, “Alright. Sure, why not. Ya sure that’s it?” he asked Lu once more.

She gave a helpless little shrug. “Gotta be. Or the wire’s dirty. Where’d it come from anyway?”

Gale gave Bucky a long suffering look as Bucky seemed to swell a couple inches and bounce back on his heels at the mention of his scrounging prowess. “The lamp.” he nodded above them all.

Jack Brady scoffed, short, clipped, betrayed, “That why it cuts out all the time? Strobed us so bad last night -thought the room was possessed.”

“Sacrifices Jack, sacrifices.”

———————————————————

Benny had hauled in enough water buckets to elicit some negative attention from the guards, and when the inspection came the inmates of the Love Shack insisted the drenched floors and table of the Majors’ barracks were due to sanitation post regurgitation. At night, with only one stolen torch light from Combine 15 to illuminate the endeavor, a basin of water beneath a smaller bowl in which lay their precious and recently procured ingredients, a science experiment began. The Majors and Ida gathered round, all looking as ghastly and spectral in the light of the flashlight as Brady’s fake ghost. It held the thrill of a bonfire night except for the stakes, which all in the room did their best not to dwell on.

“Zippo, Candy.” Lu gave the word and Maureen, with only the protection of Ida’s bent aviators to keep from a scorched cornea, flicked on her lighter and set the mixed powders ablaze.

It flamed up high and smelly, making Benny gag and mutter something about Meatball’s gas to a tittering Brady, and then died down to a yellow smoking ember.

“We should let it sit.” Lu surmised with a squeeze to Maureen’s only somewhat singed hand, her big dark eyes surveying the burnt bowl and their smoking experiment with glittery excitement at the possibility of success, “Let it cool, settle, maybe strain it. Can you get me a net? Oh Candy come now, get me a strainer?” she begged with a laugh as Maureen rolled her eyes at the idea of yet another trip to the Stalag Market for the most random items imaginable. If they hoped to not be suspicious, they’d need better lies or more money.

“How about cheesecloth?” Kendeigh tried not to grin indulgently- and failed- in the face of Lu and having recently been allowed to set something on fire

Lu kissed her cheek. “Cheesecloth would be perfect.”

In the end, cheesecloth did indeed prove perfect, and amongst the burnt dust of the combined minerals was a gritty little pinch full of the needed crystals. Or so Lu said, Gale agreed but the crease between his brows hadn’t lifted for two days; Bucky’s fingers had begun to twitch in antsy need to manually smooth them out. He imagined Maureen felt the same but she hadn’t said, uncharacteristically forbearant now she had some job to keep her sane. Even if it was playing fetch for Lu.

—————————————————————

“Well, this is it.” Gale muttered when the watch had been set once more, Murph and Hambone on the steps, Crank inside, Brady at the door, Benny at the window. Even Major Clark had joined them in the barracks for this final try and Lu’s cheeks were maroon from the attention even as her deft hands steadily pressed her concoction beneath its intended rod.

“Pass me the pliers, sir?” She asked and for a moment, the teacher became the apprentice and Gale fetched her the stalag forged tool, rudimentary like everything here yet the gripped and pulled and lifted same as the pliers back home. “You could check your look in this wire’s reflection.” She complimented Gale’s buffing of the copper wire.

He shrugged in turn. “Didn't wanna leave anythin’ to chance. That it?” he asked as her hands stalled and she surveyed her work.

Lu nodded solemnly. “Yes sir.”

Gale picked up the headphone from in front of him on the table like it was a gun he was about to bring to his head. “Here.” He extended it to her instead, “S’right, it was your job, you should be the first. Cmon.”

Despite her voiceless protest he pressed the headphones into her hands and Lu, never knowing how to disobey an officer, folded immediately.

For a good ten seconds everyone in the room held their breath as Smith pressed the headphone to her ear and gently wiggled the clothespin along the wire, searching and tuning, her face holding that old peaceful concentration they hadn’t seen since the last mission. She was at home with her mind tuned to another dimension. The pilots in the room knew that look, that was the look of someone at home with something that terrified them all the same, the gut swooping feeling of clearing the take off and sledding along the tops of the clouds. Wrong and strange and utterly incomparable to others, it was the closest to home one’s mind could be. Lu belonged somewhere on those electric currents and searching them out was like finding oneself again.

Then at last, Lu’s eyes sharpened out of their dreamy haze of concentration and she said, gentle as always, “It’s the BBC sir.”

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gods-perfect-idiots · 3 days

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Okay bear with me folks, I have some ~thoughts~ about the Vanessa/Wade relationship (or frankly lack thereof) in Deadpool & Wolverine. I should start by saying that I am analyzing this with the (likely erroneous) assumption that everything on screen is 100% intentional and mindfully written to deepen the characters and inform their arcs. For the record, I don't necessarily believe that's true - there is certainly room for mistakes, lazy writing, confusing plot elements, or in this case, sidelining a potentially strong and important character for nebulous reasons (I'm guessing scheduling conflicts + run time concerns + actor's strike complications but idk for sure). (Also thanks to @gossippool and @kendyroy for encouraging me to post my thoughts instead of just rambling in the tags in the first place, y'all are the realest)

Long rambly post below the cut fyi

Now, granted, it has been a while since I watched the original Deadpool so I am not as well-versed in their early relationship as I am in the handful of scenes Morena Baccarin has in dp3, but I do think it is pretty canon that Wade generally struggles to express his deeper worries and feelings (without filtering it heavily through crude humor, sex, and pop culture references of course), especially after the events of dp1 and the physical and mental damage he sustains, and Vanessa is frankly no exception despite how much he cares for her. The entire first movie hinges on the fact that he doesn't really believe she could love him in his post-Francis mangled state, which is pretty contrived imo given that the film has established already how bonded they are, and she doesn't strike me as being written to be so shallow as to reject him based on a physical deformity. I mean iirc she wanted to stick around through chemo despite him being literally riddled with inoperable cancer, so she clearly is in it for the long haul (at least in dp1), messiness and all.

Now, in dp2, obviously she is shot and killed early in the film, and Wade spends much of the rest of the film wallowing in his very profound grief, trauma, and guilt over losing her due directly to his violent lifestyle. He goes to prison, he basically gives up on life and seems very resigned to dying once he has the power suppressant collar on, even excited to do so so he can be reunited with her. She is mostly sidelined as a Fuzzy Dead Wife trope basically, but the important thing here is that he spends weeks if not months in the throes of despair over losing the love of his life just as they were trying to start a family, and trying to reach across the boundaries of death to be with her.

Now, my first couple times watching dp3 I was frustrated by the trite narrative presented in the interview scene towards the beginning - specifically Wade's whole "my girl is getting tired of my shtick and I need to show her I matter". It felt contrived and disingenuous, and I just brushed it off as iffy writing, a means to an end, but the more I reflect upon it the more I think it is based in an emotional reality that is just handled with a very light touch by the film in favor of fanservice and Poolverine content (NOT that I'm complaining in the slightest - I think this movie is a masterpiece in many ways, albeit a flawed one but that's beside the point here), which for the record I am not against because I think it lends it an air of realism. This is Wade's story after all, Vanessa is a part of it but it is ultimately about him and his journey.

Basically, I think the combination of what happened to him in dp1 (the brain damage, the trauma, the awareness of the fourth wall, etc) followed by the events of dp2 (Vanessa's death, his grief and the associated guilt and trauma of being the direct cause of her death) led to an unbridgeable emotional gap between the two of them that ultimately leads to their breakup.

It's important to note that I don't think Vanessa has any recollection of her own death, given that Wade goes back and saves her before she can take the bullet, and so of course she can never fully fathom what Wade went through grieving her and their life together and their potential family, for however long he spent between her death and bringing her back with Cable's device. She can try (and she clearly does in the one scene I'll talk about next) but I fear she accepts, maybe even in that scene, that she can never succeed. He is beyond her reach by this point, and vice versa, his experiences having fundamentally changed him.

The one scene we really see from their relationship between dp2 and dp3 is the one where Cassandra mind-gropes Wade in the Void and we see Vanessa struggling to reach Wade across this aforementioned gap - she wants him to open up, she wants him to share what he's going through, she wants him to be the person she initially fell in love with (not even selfishly - to her nothing has changed really, because to her no time has passed). But not only does he not understand what she's really asking for but he responds in such a way that makes me think he has unprocessed issues that are only tangentially related to what she's saying - ie the stuff about mattering, about asking her if she even wants to be with him, etc. And he's not the Wade Wilson she met back in dp1 anymore. He watched her die and grieved her and brought her back, believing it would make everything go back to normal and they could resume their life together as if nothing had changed, but he has been fundamentally changed in a way that she can't grasp, even if he WAS good at externally processing his trauma openly without the artifice of wry jokes. She didn't "come back wrong" - instead, she came back exactly the same as before, but HE'S different now. Not wrong, per se. But changed.

It's an interesting scene because it's obviously a memory, and a crucial one at that, but you can see how Wade is misunderstanding what she's saying, viewing it through the prism of his own lack of self-worth and his own hopelessness - he takes away that she thinks he doesn't matter (even though like he says she didn't actually say that, but I don't think Cassandra invented that wholecloth - I think she pulled it out of his psyche because that's what he believes deep down, hence why his fixation on mattering even though she never said those words exactly), he takes away that she doesn't want to be with him, that she thinks he's nothing. Which would be frustrating as an audience member to witness as a pretty simple misunderstanding which could potentially be solved with one conversation, but it feels believable to me that these two people who have shared a great love would be fundamentally separated by unimaginable, cosmic trauma, and the on conversation they would need to have to rectify the misunderstanding is one that is impossible for Wade to verbalize and equally impossible for Vanessa to conceive of. It was one thing when they had shared trauma like violence and SA in dp1, but what Wade has gone through in dp1 and dp2, humor aside, is unfathomably traumatic, brain-breakingly so even, and that's not even factoring in the possible mental illnesses he now struggles with (I've seen folks suggest schizophrenia, DID, depression, etc. but I won't get into armchair diagnosing a fictional character here - suffice it to say he is canonically unwell as a result of what has happened to him, and yes it manifests as quirky fourth wall breaks and cheeky one-liners, but within the universe of the movies he is undeniably profoundly mentally ill, and that includes this humorous alter ego he created to cope with his trauma).

I think off-screen Vanessa probably really tried to reach him, maybe for years (the six year gap implies to me that they didn't break up immediately, that they tried for a while to stay together), trying to get her Wade back, but that Wade is gone. He struggled to express that to her until eventually he started to feel rejected because he couldn't express his trauma or how much he has changed, because even he can't fully conceive of the gulf that has formed between them. The truth is, he WANTS to be that Wade again, for her and for himself, but that Wade died when she died. Or maybe he had already started dying when Francis got a hold of him in dp1.

Anyway, all this is to say, I think Morena Baccarin WAS criminally underutilized in dp2 and dp3, but I think there is a strong argument to be made for the believability of their breakup regardless. I think even relationships built on enormous love can crumble due to trauma, and what Wade suffers over these movies is mind-bogglingly enormous trauma. It's especially heartbreaking that he blames himself for their relationship ending, talks like she just got tired of him, thought he didn't matter, whatever. But it is a credit to him that he never seems to feel anger towards her about it. He doesn't seem to feel entitled to her, though he longs for her and what they had and what she represented (hope, love, a future, a family), but ultimately she becomes more of a symbol of what he lost when he gained his powers, because let's be super fr right now - even if they had succeeded in having a baby, not only would they have lived in fear of her or the kid getting killed, but ultimately Wade would likely outlive both of them even if they managed to die natural deaths. The moment he gained his powers he was already destined to lose her, which is heartbreaking because she was the only reason he opted for the treatment in the first place - so he could stay with her.

I think a big part of Deadpool & Wolverine is watching Wade continue to process his own motivations (vis-a-vis Vanessa but also his other friends) and how he does eventually let go of the idea of "mattering" in favor of just saving the people he cares about (*cough* and being saved right back *cough* by Wolvie, as the final line and shot implies). And in the process he finds someone new who cares about him, who thinks he matters, who tries to sacrifice himself for him and his friends after mere days of knowing him, who comes home with him at the end of the story, who breaks his own centuries-old patterns, who has also experienced unimaginable grief and trauma, who has struggled with wanting to die and being unable to, who not only matches his crazy but matches his FREAK and also not only won't die on him but CAN'T die on him - and more importantly cannot be randomly killed by a stray bullet.

Idk if any of this makes much sense but I do think if you read between the lines and consider the potency of trauma and grief, guilt and emotional damage at play here, Vanessa and Wade's off-screen breakup is actually pretty realistic, and really heart-breaking to boot.

You can tell she still cares about him in so many ways - she shows up for his birthday party, she shows up to his welcome home party at the end, she finds excuses for physical contact multiple times, her eyes get soft when she looks at him, but there is a distance there that Morena Baccarin does an incredible job of portraying. She cares about him deeply, she has mourned the loss of their potential life together, she has let him go and accepted that the Wade she fell in love with is gone, but she wants him in her life even though she's moving on because she realizes he's gone somewhere she can't follow (literally and figuratively). And she wants him to be happy which is why I fully believe she would immediately clock the Poolverine of it all and not-so-subtly encourage them to make it official.

Anyway. Poolverine forever. Nothing against Vanessa at all - I think she delivers a nuanced and beautiful performance, I think their relationship is sweet and heart-wrenching in large part due to her acting chops, especially given how little she is given to work with - but I think their relationship was sadly doomed from almost the very start, because Wade becomes this traumatized superhuman and Vanessa would always be at risk in his orbit, but also would always on the outside of his multiverse superhero experiences. I think it's weirdly beautiful, even if I am filling in a lot of gaps and giving the writers maybe undue credit.

Anyway... thoughts? Please DM me or write in the tags, I am feral about this movie and just want to talk about it with anyone haha. If you have further insight into these characters too I'd love to hear it - I am by no means an expert in these movies or characters!

#wade wilson #deadpool & wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #deadclaws #wolverine #deadpool #deadpool 3 #deadpool x wolverine #vanessa x wade #rambly meta thoughts #anyway thanks for reading if you made it through #I def didnt edit this much just sorta wrote it out #I have more to say but it will have to wait I think #deadpool meta

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gothgoblinbabe · 2 days

Text

Drunken Words, Sober Thoughts (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x afab!/fem reader

divider credit

Warnings: MDNI/18+, mostly porn w little plot, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), afab!reader, being referred to as a girl, use of pet names, very light choking, filming sex/making a sex tape, swearing, I believe that is it but if i missed any pls lmk <3 I also didn’t proofread this one as much as I usually do so forgive me for any mistakes or inconsistencies!

Summary: [based on this ask] I don’t know what to really say for this one cause I feel like the ask explains it perfectly lol, but part 1 is here if you want to read it but this also works as a stand alone thing. I did tweak a couple of things from the ask but nothing major!

Word count: 5.5K

Since you and Logan had gotten to know each other a little better, you were over his and Wade’s apartment sometimes more than your own. He’d begun to make himself comfortable in yours too, finding himself waking up in your decorative sheets with the morning sun shining onto the pictures taped to your wall. It was a comfortable routine you’d started; waking up in each other's beds, going out to eat at some 24 hour diner when neither of you could sleep, talking with each other till the sun came up. Weekends with Wade even turned to weekends with Wade and Logan, your legs slung over your boyfriend's lap with his arm around your shoulder.

Unfortunately for him, though, you and Wade would not budge on Keeping Up With The Kardashians.

“I still don’t get it,” he grumbled next to you on the couch, quirking an eyebrow at you and his roommate, “what the hell are they famous for, anyway?”

“Well,” you began to explain, raising the remote to mute the TV, “their dad was a really famous lawyer, he defended O-”

“Nope,” Wade piped up from beside you through a mouthful of chips, “you know that’s not the real reason they’re famous, cupcake.”

You turned to narrow your eyes at him, “C’mon, you don’t mean -”

“Mhm,” he hummed, eyes flickering from you to the muted TV so he could read the subtitles without missing a beat.

“What?” Logan finally asked, clearly frustrated that neither of you would clue him in.

You sighed, rolling your eyes and laughing a bit to yourself, “Okay, so, Kim? The main sister?”

He nodded, “the one with the huge -”

“Yes, her.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay, she used to date this singer Ray J and in the early two thousands, they made a sex tape. It got leaked somehow and she kinda shot into fame and I guess her family followed,” you explained simply.

“You should show him the tape,” Wade chimed in again, taking the remote from your lap and unmuting the TV.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna do that,” you shook your head, “I don’t think he’d wanna see it.”

“You’d be right,” Logan agreed, cringing a little.

“You two should make your own, then. You can finally be famous for somethin’ else, peanut!” Wade suggested, poking at his roommate's shoulder, “plus, with a pretty girl? Man, that would blow up.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. That was seemingly the end of the discussion, except Logan couldn’t get Wade’s words to leave his brain.

You two should make your own, then.

It stuck with him to the point that he was staring at his ceiling that night, listening to your steady breathing as you slept beside him, still unable to think of anything else. It was a bad idea, wasn’t it? He couldn’t ask you to do that with him. Could he?

He couldn’t shake the image of you on the screen of some camera, your back to his chest as he fucked you from behind and you batted your pretty eyes at the lens. He’d never let another soul see it, it would be something just between the two of you - something he’d definitely keep to watch a million times over. He looked around his apartment the next day after you'd gone to work to see if maybe Wade had an old camera somewhere - one he wouldn’t miss if he never saw it again. He dug out a silver camcorder from the junk drawer in the kitchen, turning it over in his hands. It looked like one you’d find on a shelf in a radioshack - when they were still around - something you’d use to film a kid’s high school graduation in the mid two thousands. As long as it worked, it would do. He fumbled the thing open, pressing a couple buttons before the screen finally lit up and gave him the option to look through the album. There were only three things on there - a blurry picture of Wade’s shoes, an even blurrier picture of half of his face and a twelve second video of him trying to film Logan while he swatted the camera out of his hands and onto the floor.

He found a charger and hooked it up to the wall, already thinking over how exactly he was going to approach the subject with you. If he was going to be able to do what he’d been thinking about, that camera had to be charged to last for at least a couple of hours. He’d planned to stay the night at your place and figured he’d try to work up the nerve to ask then.

He found himself on your couch later that night, his thighs spread while you sat in his lap and played with his hair. He was leaving kisses down your throat, his hands on the sides of your thighs.

“Can I ask you somethin’, sweetheart?” he mumbled into your skin. He pulled his face away to look into your eyes.

“Hm?” you raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to continue.

He almost felt dirty for what he was about to ask of you - like he was perverted for even considering it when you looked at him so sweetly.

His eyes moved from your face to his jacket laying beside him and he reached into the pocket, pulling out the small camera.

“I kinda wanted to try somethin’ a little different.”

Your lips parted when you realized what he was holding, eyes flickering from the device to his face. He watched your lips curl up into a smile. You knew instantly what he was about to ask when you remembered your conversation from the night before.

“You wanna film a sex tape?”

He swallowed hard, fearful that you were about to scoff and lift yourself off him. Instead, you rested your hand over his that held the camera, “I wonder where you got that idea.”

You took it from his hand, flipping it open and turning it on. You held it up and hit record, smirking when he rolled his eyes at you.

“I didn’t say I wanted my face all in it,” he scoffed, a smile tugging at his lips.

“What, you think I’m gonna let you only film me?” you pulled the camera from your face, quirking an eyebrow at him, “uh-uh, babe. If this is gonna be our sex tape, I want you in it.”

He huffed, glaring at you through the lens.

“Besides,” you continued, “you’re acting like you're the only one who's gonna like it.”

“So, you’re not upset that I asked?”

You shook your head, “Upset that a hot guy asked to film himself screwing my brains out? Hell no.”

He gnawed at his bottom lip and watched you fiddle with the camera, clicking through settings and trying out filters. Screw your brains out, huh? He could do that. He wouldn't admit it even if you asked, but he was turned on beyond belief from the idea that you’d watch it when he wasn’t with you - he liked the idea of putting on a performance for you, giving you what you want so you’d stuff the little vibrator you kept in the drawer of your nightstand inside your aching pussy when you watched it back, your eyes trained on his face and remembering how good he’d made you feel.

“It’s kind of an older camera,” Logan began, his hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, “maybe we should test it out, see if it works?”

“Oh, should we?”

He stood up in seconds, his strong arms holding you up by your thighs as he carried you to your room. You giggled, your arms wrapped around the back of his neck. You held the camera up to film yourself. Your face was in frame, Logan only visible by the back of his head as you stretched your arm out.

“This is my very sexy boyfriend, taking me to bed,” you narrated, kissing the side of his face.

“Shut up,” he grumbled, burying his face in your neck as he nudged your door open with his foot. He dropped you onto the bed and you kept the camera trained on him as he crawled over you.

“You’re gonna keep that damn thing on my face the whole time?”

He leaned over you with his hands on either side of your head, his bulging muscles even more prominent from your angle underneath him. His tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth, licking over his lips. You wouldn’t mind if the whole video was just from this angle.

“You look fucking hot.”

He was a little taken back by your compliment. Even after months of sleeping together, he still wasn’t used to the praise, dismissing you with a scoff or simply hiding his red face.

“Look who’s talkin’.”

Logan snatched the camera from your hands in one quick swipe, sitting back on his heels so he could get all of you in frame. You sat up, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it somewhere off the bed, leaving you in your bra and jeans. You looked angelic underneath him with your hair spread around your head like a halo, your chest heaving in excitement. You bit your lip and grabbed the end of his shirt to pull him closer to you, lidded eyes staring up at him.

“Fuck.”

He groaned, letting you pull him down and slip your tongue into his mouth. He haphazardly placed the camera on your bedside table, glancing at it momentarily to make sure it was on before diving back onto you.

His hands slid up your back and under the band of your bra. He unhooked the clasp and pushed the straps down your shoulders, pulling the garment from your chest and licking his lips in awe. It didn’t matter how often he saw you naked; each time was like the first.

His mouth latched onto your chest almost immediately, swirling his tongue and sucking in a way that elicited a moan from your lips. Your back arched and he hooked his arm around your waist to pull you as close as possible. He was sucking dark marks into your soft skin, leaving each one shiny with his saliva. If there was one thing you were sure of with Logan, it was that he really loved being messy when he toyed with you.

He dragged his lips from your chest down your waistband, leaving tender kisses on your stomach and sides. Over time, he’d slowly gotten more affectionate - more loving and emotional - during sex. He always showed it the best he could, but he was clearly becoming more comfortable being vulnerable with you. He still had his animalistic and rough ways about him, but now it was combined with soft kisses to your nose and forehead, mumbled praises into your mouth and declarations of love while you panted from the pace of his thrusts.

Logan stopped at the waistband of your jeans, his fingers popping the metal button with little hesitation. You wordlessly lifted your hips for him to drag them down your thighs, leaving you only in your panties. He leaned over to grab the camera from the table, leaning back a bit to get you in frame.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he huffed, his free hand immediately sliding between your thighs to graze his fingers against the damp fabric, “all for me?”

You nodded, hooded eyes and parted lips posing for the camera, “yours, all yours.”

Logan was chewing on his bottom lip while he admired you from behind the camera. He knew without a doubt that you were the prettiest girl he’d ever been with; none of those dirty magazines or tapes he’d seen over the years could even compare to what was in front of him now. You were positively heavenly, a type of beauty so alluring that it bordered being otherworldly.

He finally used his free hand to remove your panties when you lifted your hips, set on recording as much as he could from the perspective he had because fuck, it was a good one.

Laying in front of him - completely bare - with the camera focused on you made you feel vulnerable and a little shy and Logan was always able to read you.

He wanted to focus on you even more, but he instead handed the device over to you when he sensed your mild discomfort, the lens facing him.

“Here,” was all he said, letting you bring the camera up to your eye before he tugged his t-shirt over his head. He knew you clearly enjoyed filming him and even if he didn’t love the idea of being the object of attention, he wanted you to be comfortable and he’d sacrifice his own comfort for you any day. So, once he was shirtless, he stood off the bed in front of you to strip himself of his jeans and boxers, letting his hard cock spring up to hit his stomach when he took off the latter.

You had - fortunately for you - figured out the zoom option on the camera and used it to perfectly frame his leaking cock as the only thing in the shot, bobbing when he moved towards you to take the device back. When he did, he set it on the table next to the bed, messing with the same zoom option so that the shot was of you sitting up with your legs spread and your cunt aching to be touched.

Settling himself on his stomach between your legs, he hiked your thighs onto his shoulder, his mouth inches from your heat.

“Do me a favor, sweetheart,” he began and you nodded, ready to agree to anything he asked of you, “be as loud as you can, yeah? Wanna be able to hear ya’ on tape.”

He instantly delved his tongue into you, making you gasp. You tenderly rested your hands on his arms that were hooked around your thighs as if you were encouraging him to stay there.

He ate you every time like he was starving, his cheeks and chin always slick with saliva and sap from between your legs when he finally pulled himself off you.

You did as he instructed - though, you were probably going to do it anyway - moaning openly as he licked stripes up your dripping cunt so he could circle his tongue around your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whined, your thighs clamping around his head out of instinct. He let you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging at the dark strands to help angle his head and making him growl with his mouth still suctioned to you.

You felt around beside you for the camera, fumbling with it till you had the lens angled at him in between your legs.

“Fuck, L-Logan,” you panted, lovingly caressing his temple with your free hand.

“Mhm,” he hummed into you, the vibration pulling a whimper from your throat, “you like holding that thing, huh?”

Your eyes were glued to his through the small screen.

“You’re so fucking hot, of course I do,” you sighed, your lips parted and chest heaving.

He scoffed in amusement, continuing to slip his tongue between your folds and prod at your entrance. With his face still buried in you and his eyes closed in concentration, he took the camera from you and set it back on the table. He used his arms around your thighs to yank you further down the bed so you were flat on your back. You watched in awe as he spat a mouthful of saliva right onto your already soaked pussy, using his fingers to swipe his spit all over you. Latching his lips back onto your clit, he easily slipped two of his digits into you, feverishly pumping in and out. Your moans grew louder with each thrust of his fingers, echoing off your walls along with the wet noises that came from your soaked cunt.

“You’re such a good girl for me, lettin’ me eat your pretty pussy,” he rambled, voice muffled by your thighs, “always so fuckin’ good.”

You inhaled sharply when he gently rolled your clit between his teeth, licking after like a balm to soothe the searing sensation. You thought you couldn’t moan any louder until he replaced his fingers inside you with his tongue, angling his mouth in a way that made his nose nudge your bundle of nerves.

“Only good for you,” you managed to choke out, turning your head to the side to bury it in your pillow, “only for you.”

His hand slid up to grope your chest, pinching your nipple between his fingers. He slid it up even further to grab your chin and turn your head so you were forced to look at him.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he grumbled.

“Ah - uh-huh,” you tried to make some noise of agreement but were overwhelmed with how he was expertly tracing your cunt with his tongue.

Until he detached his mouth from you completely.

You groaned in frustration and knitted your eyebrows, silently asking why he stopped.

“Use your words or I’ll stop. Ya’ got it?”

His stern voice sent shivers down your spine.

“Yes, baby, please -“

His tongue was already back in between your folds by the time you said yes. He kept his vice like grip around your thighs, deciding he’d be content if he died right there with his head between your legs.

“Love when you - when you - fuck - eat me out,” you panted, “you make me feel so good.”

You knew how much he secretly loved the praise, catching the way he ground his hips into the mattress to find some sort of relief whenever you told him he was doing a good job, that he was so handsome, that you loved what he was doing to you. He was usually the dominant one in the relationship, whispering praises in your ear while you were underneath him, but you knew him well enough by now to have figured out that he loved when you did it back.

“You’re perfect, Logan, I - ah - I love you,” you gasped when his fingers pumped back into you.

It wasn’t all about sex with you two - though it was a wonderful part of your relationship - and yet he’d discovered that he’d never felt more loved than he had when he was with you, declaring your love for him while he completely devoted himself to you with his face in your pussy.

“I love you, too, pretty girl,” he grunted, “love fuckin’ you with my mouth.”

His filthy words fueled the fire building in your lower stomach and you tugged at his hair in an attempt to warn him.

“ ‘m gonna come,” you slurred, ankles locked on Logan’s back to keep him in place.

“Come for me, beautiful, c’mon,” he coaxed while his fingers abused the spot inside of you that made you whimper to encourage him to keep going, “want it all, want you to come on my face.”

That was definitely what sent you over the edge, mumbling unintelligible praises as he lapped up anything that had spilled out of you and onto his tongue.

“Tastes so damn good,” he heaved, his fingers still working at a consistent pace, “I think I can pull another one outta you.”

You felt tears beginning to form in your eyes from the overstimulation, crying out when he grazed your swollen clit with his teeth.

“ ‘s too - too much,” you tried to pull his head away by tugging his hair, to no avail.

He’d let you go, but not without one more taste of you.

It only took a couple more flicks of his tongue to have you arching your back, tears rolling down the sides of your face as you gushed around his fingers for a second time.

When he finally slipped his fingers out of you and he’d left the comfortable spot between your warm thighs, you could see that his entire lower face was almost completely slick with a mix of his spit and your cum. He was licking his lips, trying to savor the taste of you but making no attempt to wipe anything off his chin or cheeks. He was in love with you but he was also in love with the reality that he got to do this to you, that he got to taste every bit, that you wanted him to. You sat up to give him a desperate kiss - a clash of tongues and teeth that tasted entirely of you. You finally pulled away to admire his face.

Seeing him with his hair disheveled from your repeated tugging, his lips near swollen and raw and his cheeks still shining made you crave the idea of returning the favor.

“Sit on the edge of the bed, baby.”

Though he was usually the one giving orders instead of following them, he obliged anyway. His cock was still leaking in anticipation, hard against his stomach. When you got down on your knees in front of him, he couldn’t hide the excited smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He never expected you to return the favor when he used his mouth on you - content with that being a reward itself - but when you did? You usually left him shaking.

You took the camera from the table and handed it up to Logan, eager eyes following the lens.

“Can I suck your cock? Please?”

You knew he loved it when you begged and you always used it to get him exactly where you wanted him, especially when you looked up at him with those pleading eyes.

“Go ahead, baby,” he used his free hand to loosely hold your hair back in his fist, “I know you like havin’ it in your mouth, huh?”

You nodded eagerly, your hand wrapping around the base of his shaft. You hovered your mouth over his tip, letting a glob of spit drip from your lips so you could coat his cock in it before you tried to take him in your throat. You’d done it before, but he was huge and every time you tried to prep to make it easier. Your jaw even became sore sometimes from how wide you’d have to keep your mouth open. You never complained, though, because the mere idea of having the weight of Logan’s heavy cock in your mouth was enough to make you drool.

You spread your saliva up and down, leaning forward and dragging his tip across your parted lips while staring up at the lens of the camera.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, focused on you through the small screen, “such a fucking tease.”

You grinned, placing a light kiss on his tip before engulfing him into your mouth, tongue sliding along his slit to taste the small amount of precum that’d dripped from him when he first sat up. You suctioned and began to work up a pace, taking him as far as you could into your mouth while your hand stroked the rest of him.

“I love giving you head,” you admitted in the most sultry way possible when you popped your lips off his tip, long lashes batting up at him. It wasn’t a lie, either, and that was clear by how sloppy you loved to be whenever it was your turn to be on your knees. If you had at least one thing in common, it was that you wanted to worship each other as much as possible. You wanted to leave him in a state of euphoria the same way he did you, just as messily dedicated to making sure he came.

“Yeah? I can tell, sweetheart,” he still held the camera but his eyes were trained on your face, “such a good girl, sucking my cock like you were made for it.”

You tried to push him further into your throat, eager to see his thighs shake and hear him groan your name. You gagged on his tip and he inadvertently rolled his hips. You hummed, eyes starting to water every time you choked on his dick. You used your free hand to cup his balls and smeared your saliva down from the base of his cock to coat them. You pulled yourself off his mouth momentarily to spit on him again, licking your lips in excitement.

“Fuck’s sake,” he grunted, camera abandoned on the side of the bed so he could place both his hands on the back of your head, “doin’ so fucking good, princess.”

You continued to stroke him with one hand and massage his balls in the other, your tongue still swirling and sucking around him. You popped off him with a smile, spit covering your lips and chin while your hands continued their motion.

Logan leaned back on his elbows and held the camera up again with one hand. When you wrapped your lips around his cock again, he started to roll his hips at a steady pace so he could fuck your throat, grunting every time you gagged around him.

You picked up your pace, stroking his base while your head bobbed up and down in synch with your hand.

“Atta girl,” he panted, “jus’ like that.”

You could tell he was already close because he was sloppily rocking his hips up into your mouth, his thighs beginning to shake every time he hit the back of your throat. He sat up suddenly, grabbing your hair again to slowly pull you off his cock.

“On the bed, hands and knees,” he instructed simply, letting you scramble onto the mattress as he set up the camera on the end of your bed. You understood almost instantly what he wanted, biting back a smile as you laid your chest flat on the mattress, back arched with your ass in the air.

He climbed behind you and placed his knees on the inside of yours to push your legs apart even further. His large hands gripped your hips and he pulled you against him, his hard cock prodding your entrance. He leaned his body over yours so that your back was flush with his chest.

“I’m gonna fuck this pretty pussy like you deserve,” he muttered into your ear, intoxicating you with the feeling of his hot breath fanning the side of your face, “think you can take it, sweetheart?”

You nodded eagerly and gasped when he dragged the tip of his cock along the folds of your dripping cunt.

“Can take it - I want it so bad, Logan,” you pleaded, pushing back into him. Your eyes bore into the camera, lips parted. It was his idea for a sex tape after all, you might as well be sure to give him a show.

He sheathed himself into you completely in one thrust with an iron grip on your hips, the weight of him pushing into you almost knocking the wind out of your lungs. He began to slowly inch himself out and slam back in again, pulling out a little further each time. He was grunting into the back of your neck while he rocked his hips.

“Takin’ it so good, baby,” he panted, one of his hands moving to your neck and barely applying pressure while the other held his upper body above yours. His lips came to the side of your face and left a kiss so sweet that it could’ve rotted your teeth.

You whimpered when he worked up to a steady pace and reveled in the sensation of him filling you completely. Your fingers gripped the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto so you could stable yourself when his hard thrusts nearly knocked you over completely.

“S-so fucking - ah - so good,” you slurred your words with your eyes squeezed shut. You were slack jawed, nearly drooling.

“Yeah? Can tell you like it,” he huffed, “you’re so pretty, takin’ all of me like a good girl.”

You nodded frantically, whimpering every time he slammed into you.

“You like bein’ on camera, don’t you?” he continued, “you’re really fucking wet.”

You could only moan in response. You were soaking around him, drenching the base of his cock and the happy trail that went up to his stomach. He leaned back on his knees and his pace never faltered.

Your hands outstretched in front of you and you grabbed the camera. You angled it over your shoulder and focused the lens on his face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He scoffed when he noticed the camera over your shoulder, keeping his rhythm while his eyes were glued to the lens. If he thought too hard about what you might do with the video later, he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Feels good, baby?” you panted, an amused smile creeping onto your face.

He was always the one to talk to you like that - pet names and filthy encouragement - but you wanted to get his face on film when you teased him back - or, at least tried to.

His expression mirrored yours and he grabbed the camera while his other hand kept an iron grip on your hip.

“I think you like holdin’ that thing a little too much,” he brought it up to his face and squinted at you through the screen.

“Mm,” you hummed, your face flushed and body sticky with sweat, “can’t help it.”

“You look fuckin’ gorgeous like this, you know that? God,” he sighed, “can’t get enough of you.”

You would’ve found his words endearing if you could even process them. The intoxicating feeling every time he pushed back into you was enough to render you speechless.

Logan angled the camera down to film the repeated motion, gaping at the mess you left around the base of him every time he pulled back.

“My dirty girl,” he cooed, “you like makin’ a mess on my cock?”

“F-Fuck - yes, yes,” you sobbed before he even finished his sentence. You could feel the pressure building in your stomach, bringing you closer to finishing.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I can feel you gettin’ tighter. Come for me, baby,” he grunted, his hand sliding from your hip to grip your ass.

It only took a few more strokes for you to do exactly that with your legs shaking underneath you.

“ ‘Atta girl,” he growled. He watched you gush around him, zooming in on your dripping pussy as he stretched you out over and over again. You were chanting his name, muttering unintelligible praises against your sheets.

It wasn’t long before he followed suit, his pace becoming sloppy as he spilled into you and let it drip down your thighs. He clicked off the camera and tossed it somewhere else onto the bed.

“C’mere,” he huffed, pulling you up to lean back against him, “love you so much.” He was leaving saccharine kisses from your ear down to your shoulder, still panting.

“I love you, too,” you managed to say with your eyes already half closed. He pulled out and laid you on your side, grabbing some t-shirt that had been next to the bed to clean you up. He wrapped you in his arms from behind and pulled up the comforter to cover you both.

“Can’t wait to watch that back,” he mumbled into your neck.

“Mhm,” you were already drifting off to sleep while he stroked your hair, “me neither.”

Logan fell asleep right after you with his arms still around you and his legs tangled in yours.

—-----------------------------------

Later that same week, you sat on the couch beside Logan in his apartment, flipping through TV channels on a lazy day off. Wade emerged from his bedroom and began frantically tearing apart the kitchen.

“What are you looking for?” you called, turning in your seat.

“My old camera. Have you seen it?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

You thought you hadn’t, at least. You had know idea the camera Logan brought over was Wade’s.

He was pretending to be uninterested in the conversation, hoping his apathy towards the question would absolve him of any suspicion.

You shrugged and returned your attention to the TV. You heard a couple doors open and close before Wade’s voice echoed through the apartment.

“Found it!”

Logan went wide eyed and immediately stood up from the couch.

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and looked between him and Wade when he came back into the living room.

And then you recognized the camera in his hands.

“Don’t open it, I’ll buy you a new one,” Logan insisted simply, holding out his hand.

“Oh, my god,” you muttered.

Wade's eyes flickered between you both.

“There’s something on here I’m not supposed to see, isn’t there?”

Logan immediately lunged for the camera and Wade sprinted into his bedroom, slamming his door shut and locking it. Logan pounded his fist on the door and tugged the doorknob.

“Open the door, you son of a bitch!”

You buried your face into the fabric of the couch cushion, anticipating the embarrassment of Wade seeing what was still on that camera.

He opened the door after a minute, giant smile plastered on his face.

“Here you go,” he said in a sing song voice as he handed it over.

You sighed in relief, assuming he’d decided to actually abide by your requests. He closed his bedroom door, only speaking again after you heard the lock click.

“Hey, by the way - can i get a copy?”

A/N: I struggled a lil bit w this one just bc of writers block but I hope it lived up to expectations <3 pls interact if you enjoyed!

#logan howlett #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett fic #logan howlett smut #logan howlet smut #wolverine #wolverine x reader #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine fic #wolverine smut #logan wolverine #deadpool and wolverine

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 days

Note

Hello Miss Raven!! So it’s unfortunately a pretty well known fact that the TWST English translation has a bad habit of botching important dialogue and lore, and even removing lines altogether, and I saw a reblog a day ago regarding that.

The original post was a fact sheet on Leona & how he interacts with women (alongside other stuff but that’s besides the point). And the reblog I was looking at was saying that the English translation just makes it sound like he’s a feminist, when it’s implied in the original JP game that the beastwomen tend to be more aggressive, giving Leona a reason to be afraid of them. And that reminded me that on the TWST fandom wiki under Leona’s trivia he said he’s intimidated by them, and every time I see that I remember that just can’t seem to find that detail at all anywhere in the English game.

So I wanted to ask you what did the original JP game say about how male and female beastmen interact with each other and why Leona would be cautious around them? Because this is a piece of info that I really would have liked to see in ENG, and I’m kind of annoyed I didn’t know about this before.

I believe this is the Leona lore post you’re referring to? Both TWST wikis (the fandom one and the .gg one) state the same trivia point about Leona being “intimidated” by beastwoman. I’m assuming this is where the reblogger picked up the idea of beastwomen being more “aggressive”, and this being Leona’s reasoning for being “intimidated” by them.

In a nutshell, the claims of Leona being a feminist only in EN + beastwomen aggression and Leona being intimidated by that is not true. The “Leona is a feminist” take was around long before the official English localization, and that’s because the Japanese text also has Ruggie (Leona Ceremonial Robes vignettes) and Cater (Cater’s School Uniform vignette) commenting that Leona is “nice” and “respectful” to women. To claim that they made Leona feminist in the localization is false. They never use the word “feminist” in JP or EN though; the label came from the fandom interpreting this bit of lore as Leona being more considerate of women.

As for the reasoning! Leona states in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes that “[Beastwomen are] already way stronger than us. Goin’ against them only brings more trouble.” I believe that someone probably misunderstood that second line of dialogue as Leona fearing the strength/aggression of beastwomen. He never actually indicates or implies that he feels that way. However, these vignettes being cited for the trivia on the wiki likely led to some confusion.

So if Leona isn’t afraid of beastwomen and their physical fitness, how is that second line supposed to be interpreted? Well, let’s think about his character. Leona is a smart guy. He dislikes having to put forth effort into pointless things, especially if he can plan ahead and avoid it. As I tend to say whenever I talk about his Big Brain Cells, Leona likes to work smarter, not harder. Again, look at this line:

“Goin’ against them only brings more trouble.”

It’s likely Leona just wanting to appease his sister-in-law to avoid having to deal with the fallout of not fulfilling her request. It would otherwise be a pain to deal with—and we’ve seen Leona act in various ways to avoid such pains. For example, he goes to Playful Land with Jack to make sure his dorm member comes back alright (or else Leona is responsible for the consequences), purposefully not choosing a vice dorm leader so he doesn’t have someone to challenge his authority, and generally has convenient excuses prepared to get out of things he doesn’t want to do.

If we want to think of it from another angle, this better fits what we already know of Leona’s cunning. He knows when to call it quits and make a strategic surrender. The most notable example of this occurs early in book 6, when he stops fighting Styx agents and willingly gives himself up to them. He also throws in the towel in book 2 and refuses to play because he already knows that his team is destined to lose to Malleus since they didn’t succeed in eliminating him beforehand. In the situation with Leona’s sister-in-law asking for a picture of him in his robes, Leona is acquiescing because that’s just the smart thing to do. Why even argue if he knows it won’t be fruitful? It’s wasted effort.

I would like to add that physical strength isn’t even the only factor here. Ruggie points out in one of his Chats that “Girls have both the grit and the camaraderie to triumph when the goin’ gets tough.” Grit refers to courage or resolve. The latter, resolve, lends credence to the idea that beastwomen are also determined or strong-willed. In which case… yeah, I don’t think they’d back down from an argument/verbal fight or a physical one.

If we circle back to the previous paragraph, it supports the interpretation that Leona giving in to what his sister-in-law wants is the result of him wanting to avoid a pointless and prolonged fight if he refuses. Cuz like… why waste that time and energy to come out of it with nothing, right?

If it was true that Leona listens to what women day only because he’s actually scared of beastwomen, then that doesn’t explain his interactions with non-beastwomen. Why would he agree to attend a party for an enchanted portrait (Rosaria), which has no means of harming him? He agreed to the proposition as soon as he heard Rosaria is a lady; there didn’t need to be a threat or significant verbal pushback for him to go. As Leona states in Cater’s School Uniform vignette, “Portrait or not, I respect ladies and Rosaria is a lady.” (I think the reblogger may have been confused and was actually referring to THIS line being made “more feminist” in EN. In JP, Leona says something closer to, “Even if it’s a portrait, a woman is a woman.” JP does not have the “I respect ladies” portion.)

Sooo, in conclusion… Leona agreeing to do as his sister-in-law says does not necessarily mean he is intimidated by beastwomen; as I’ve explained, there is an alternate explanation with evidence in canon: he wants to avoid pointless hassle.

I hope this helps to clear things up ^^ I know the localization isn’t exactly perfect, but let’s take care to not assume changes or mistranslations!

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona Kingscholar #twst en #twisted wonderland en #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #notes from the writing raven #Cater school uniform vignette spoilers #twst jp #twisted wonderland jp #advice

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anyalovesu · 3 days

Text

𝓐fter the Aftermath

heeseung x medical school fem!reader

—you and heeseung are best friends and highschool sweethearts that broke up before you entered medical school. now one of your friends from your highschool friend group is getting married—and they want the whole gang back before the wedding.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

genre : angst with fluff ending ( slightly suggestive ending again lol )

pairings : heeseung x fem!reader

wc : 4.4k+ words

cw :

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ oc is mentioned ( ida )

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ non-idol!au

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ heeseung and reader were immature and dense asf

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ jake, chaeryeong, and reader casually refers each other as "bitch"

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ( ft. en- & chaeryeong from itzy )

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ jay and mentioned oc are getting married

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ not proofread ( yet )

song : already over - sabrina carpenter ( emails i can't send , 2022 ) & you're losing me - taylor swift ( from the vault , 2023 )

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“A fucking Darry ring! Jay, you romantic fucker!” Chaeryeong squeals as soon as she sees the ring. “I didn't know you had it in you!”

“The fuck you mean you didn't know I had it in me? I've basically courted all three of you because you gatekept Ida so much in highschool!” Jay argued. To be fair, it really was the case. You three were looked at like feral cats whenever someone took the other. It took a lot of warming up for Heeseung back then when he started dating you. Ida and Chaeryeong have always been hesitant to let anyone in your heart, after all you have always been a woman with a goal and god knows what lengths your girls will take to make sure you get to your goals. You're just the same to them, so it was never a question for anyone. You never hesitated to bite whenever someone tried to hurt your girls. You saw each other through all of your phases, it was something that you learned overtime.

“But a Darry ring…” Chaeryeong trailed, holding Ida’s hand, admiring the shining diamond ring on her ring finger. You weren’t going to lie, the ring was beautiful, somehow, it really encapsulates the beauty of your friend just as well. You supposed Jay just knows her that well. “You’re gonna be stuck with this bitch for the rest of your life, Jongseong.”

“The fuck did you just say?”

“I don’t mind,” he replies lovingly.

You couldn’t help but feel your heart clench. You feel as though it was just yesterday when Heeseung would promise the same exact things to you and now you couldn’t bear to look at him. He was your bestfriend too—before you even met Chaeryeong and Ida. How did it even come to this?

“You’re quiet,” Jake chuckles, finding a seat next to you from the garden chair where you sat with your tablet, seemingly reviewing your fill for the weekend—bullshit, everyone knows you’re watching Chaeryeong admire the sparkling stone on Ida’s finger when everyone expected you and Heeseung to be the first to marry. And you thought so too. There was no other future than the one you once saw with Heeseung and it seemed to vanish into thin air when he needed more from you and there was nothing more than you could give.

“Do you want me to let the entire building know I’m here like Chaer is right now?” You playfully ask, trying to pull a grin for him to stop speculating.

“I’m saying all you have to do is admit that it hurts you, and it’s gonna feel a bit better.”

“I don’t have it in me to be hurt that my best friend is getting married to the love of her life.” You replied quietly, pretending to look at your tablet once again to avoid looking at Jake, who seemed to suddenly develop a magical skill to read your mind. “Ida deserves all that. I’m not supposed to be hurt that she’s going to spend the rest of her life with someone she wants to be with.”

“Ida does deserve to have her happy ending,” Jake nodded. “But it doesn’t make your feelings less valid.”

“I don’t get to be hurt over something that I brought upon myself.” You hummed, gathering your things to leave. But Jake managed to catch your hand, stopping you on your tracks.

“If he bothers you, just tell me and Chaer. We’ll take care of it.” He smiled at you pitifully before letting go of your hand.

“Thank you.”

It’s been years. You should’ve been over this long ago, and even though some days feel better than the others, you couldn’t help but blame yourself for how things went down with you and Heeseung.

You could still vividly remember how you cried in your study while Heeseung screamed and begged for you to say something—to fight him about something, that even just for a glimpse, show that you still care—but you tried to block him off, fully knowing that Heeseung was already ready to walk out of your life if you didn’t say a word and start an argument with him. But your medical admissions exams were coming up—you couldn’t fail your medical admission exams, your dad is already barely making enough to send you and your sister to school and your mom was sickly. You couldn’t fail and risk another year of hardship for your family.

Heeseung packed his bags and left that night. You didn’t reach out—kept pushing making sure you arose to the top of your class to retain your scholarship.

It’s been 3 years now. Your sister is in college and you were in medical school by means of your inheritance from your spinster aunt who had just passed away. While your father doesn’t have to work just as much because of your inheritance, he still has to make a living for him and your mom. What caused your and Heeseung’s drift was long resolved, but you didn’t have him anymore. You were on your own now.

“Are you okay, noona?” Riki points out as he reaches out to take your hand, pulling you back to reality as you stand in what you thought was an empty hallway. “You’re breathing fast.”

“Y-yeah, sorry.” You took your hand, immediately walking over to your shared room with Chaer to avoid talking about it even more.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“Have you said something?” Jay asked curiously as he stood next to Heeseung who seemed busy playing billiards with Sunghoon and Jake.

As if on cue, Sunghoon and Jake look up from the pool table to glance at Jay and Heeseung, who kept his eyes on the table, seemingly trying to ignore Jay.

“Hyung, you can't keep on ignoring Y/N over something you were already aware of,” Jake sighed, looking at Heeseung intently. “You knew it was virtually impossible for her to give what you wanted her to give during that time.”

“Was it really that hard to give?” Heeseung spat at him, fuming that his friends are refusing to side with him on this one. “She could've said something!”

“Hee, you were asking her to marry you!” Jake argued. “Before M-DEET! You know how important that is for her! One point off on that exam and the scholarship is down the drain—and you thought it was the best time to propose? Heeseung, your best friend was about to break and you thought popping the question was a great idea?”

Jay was just as furious. How could Heeseung be that inconsiderate to you? You've been there for him in the best way that you could for more years than the rest of the group and never failed to give an answer to him in all of those years and the first time you failed to do so, he walked away and allowed you to blame yourself for it? He is insane to think that!

“She could've said no, Jongseong! She could've told me she didn't want to marry me—”

“Do you really think Y/N was no longer in love with you, that's why you walked away?” Sunghoon mumbles quietly.

“Why else?” Heeseung rolls his eyes, staring at Sunghoon hard, slamming the cue stick on the table. “She was with Jake most of the time—she still is. Maybe she wanted to marry Jake!”

“Okay, foul—” Jake looked appalled at the accusation. “Number 1, maybe if you wanted to pursue medicine too, you would be in the conversation. Number 2, hyung, literally what the fuck—she spent the last three years wishing she said something because she loved the living fuck out of your stupid excuse of an existence. And number 3, if you don't get your ass together and make amends with Y/N, I swear to your stupid excuse of a living, God will ignore all your hopes and dreams like you are ignoring the truth right now.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

You say quietly by the deck, feet dipped in the cold lake water, listening to the cicadas sing their song for the night. It's been a while since you've had this kind of peace to yourself away from books and hospital halls. Don't get yourself wrong, you absolutely have no regrets on pursuing your dream—it wasn't just yours after all, it was your family's too. So, you really don't find it in you to regret putting everything in the line to chase for your medical degree. But man was it sad.

“You've been so quiet, babe,” Chaer mumbles quietly, which startled you a bit, making her laugh lightly as she settled next to you.

“The guys spoke to Heeseung-hyung,” Riki follows, sitting on your otherside.

“Why aren't you with them?” You asked. It's also been a while since all of you had a break, it was concerning to you why Riki wasn't spending it with someone he could relate to better and instead is preferring to sit here in boredom with you.

“I see them every time. It's been a while since I saw you and I wanted to make sure you were okay. You looked a bit shaken up a while ago,” the younger explains, reaching for your hand to fiddle with it. His hands were warm, unlike yours. You've always had freezing hands, you reckon it was the lack of sleep that caused your low-iron levels. A bit ironic to be unhealthy while pursuing a health-related program, but you suppose that's the way that it has to go. “Your hands are never warm.”

“They used to.” Chaer joked, before leaning her head against your shoulder.

“I'm going to push you bitch, don't try me,” you playfully threaten.

“But seriously, are you never going to talk about it?” Riki finally blurts out. “It's obviously taking a toll on you to be around him.”

“It's not the place for that—”

“Oh it is,” Chaer snorted. “It's all Ida and Jay are worrying about. You're going to be Ida's maid of honor and Heeseung is Jay's best man. You two are going to do a heck lot together when you take your break from school and start to do the wedding preparations with and for them. So it's smart to do this and let you guys sort it out. But the both of you seem to not get a fucking hint. So here we are.”

You sat flabbergasted at Chaer's expected bluntness. She always spoke before she could think, it was so in character of her to just blurt that out like it was nothing.

“Sweetheart, the way you and Heeseung ended isn't doing it good for the both of you—so whether you're going to get back together or close it off for good is going to be beneficial for everyone, especially you, once it's done.” She continued. “I don't understand why you're always so passionate to help and take care of people but never seem to take care of yourself. You purposely put yourself through shit and just expect yourself to live normally with it.”

“Do I really have the resources to not be in shit, Chaer?” You asked quietly, watching the calm lake and the moon sitting quietly on the horizon, lighting up the deck along with the light fixtures in the nearby gazebo. “I had a family to sustain and he was asking me to start a life with him. I couldn't do that and he knew it.”

“And I wanted to do just that. I wanted to marry him—but what about my family? What about Eunchae? Eomma? Appa? If it was just me, I would've said something. I would've just argued my entire night with him because I loved him more than I could ever possibly love myself but our future was on the line the next day. Did he ever think of that? He was my best friend! He should’ve known that!”

Chaer sat there listening to her, sloshing the water her feet were in. It was the first time in three years you ever talked about it. It was always hard for you and you drowned yourself in school to ever have time to speak about how you felt. And honestly, it felt lighter now. Your face was wet with tears and your chest was clenching but it was lighter now.

“I totally understand why Ida and Jay wanted to do this. But is it really possible? When Heeseung still thinks I just left him hanging for school?”

“Get your ass right there and speak it out, you wuss!”

All three of your heads turn to where the deck started, to see Sunghoon and Jake holding Heeseung by both of his arms, Sunoo and Jungwon following behind, making sure to catch Heeseung if he escapes the two holding him. Not too far away from the back door of the rest house, Jay and Ida stood with Jay's arm around your best friend's shoulders, laughing at the scene unfolding before them. They are sneaky motherfuckers for managing to pull this off, that’s for sure.

“Well, I think it's a conversation you two have to make now,” Chaer chuckled evilly at you, placing a soft kiss on you cheek before pushing herself up to stand on the deck and helping you and Riki.

Soon enough you and Heeseung were left alone. It was quieter now that everyone was dragged by Chaer inside the house to leave the two of you alone to talk it out.

Awkward. That’s what it is. You wouldn’t even look Heeseung in the eye. Were you afraid to fall for it again? Or were you afraid that it’ll taste more bitter now that you’re going to hear from Heeseung how selfish you were? Either way, it hurts. To be there and to not have the courage to say or do something. You could walk away… yeah that’s sensible. You could walk away and just leave things unsaid—it was the easy way out. But you know it’s not going to make anything better.

“In your entire lifetime, have you ever thought of kissing Jake?” Heeseung blurts out, sitting perfectly still. So still, that his feet weren’t creating ripples on the water it was dipped in.

Your eyes shoot wide as you sharply turn your body towards him, finding him looking at you intently, waiting for your response.

You? And Jake?

For as long as you could remember Jake has pined for Chaeryeong and you saw them as children that would die if they hadn’t got you to rely on ever since you started your pre-med. Jake has always been just a friend and for most of the years that you were friends with him, you were with Heeseung—you never thought of kissing Jake. You’ve always had Heeseung to do that with, it was nonsensical to think of ever kissing someone else.

Also, that was he thinking about all this time? That you and Jake were going to be a better pair than you and him?

“Is that why you walked away? You thought you would lose me to Jake?” You asked, appalled as you feel your heart doing somersaults inside your chest, gnawing at your ribcage, going berserk as you connect the dots right in front of you.

“Is it stupid?” he asked shamefully as he let out a huge sigh, eyes diverting towards his feet now. “You were with Jake for most of your time. I only see you when I come home from work after university and wake up with you getting ready to get in his car to start your day. What was I supposed to think?”

“Jake is your friend, Hee.” You utter, brows still furrowed but you didn’t have it in you to be mad at him—after all he had a point and you were finally hearing it for the first time. “Why would you think I would do that to you?”

“I know you wouldn’t. But Jake could. He has everything I don’t and I was immature to think that asking you to marry me would somehow give me comfort that it wasn’t going to happen because that’s what you do when people are upset. You offer them comfort. So when you weren’t arguing with me to somehow give me what I was needing that time I took it as a sign that I have already lost you to Jake. And I walked away.” You watch him intently, trying to figure out if he was being forced to do this or if he genuinely wanted to fix this after quite some time.

But Heeseung is Heeseung. He’s always been hard to predict. Was he really though? Or were you always too busy to notice what he was feeling that way?

You could’ve done something to mitigate the situation. You would’ve explained it better before you were in a tight situation where you physically and mentally couldn’t. How could you not notice? Heeseung is your best friend before everyone else. How come you never felt it?

“But I guess they were right. You had a dream and there’s nothing that could change your mind on that,” he sighed heavily. “It was immature. We were so young back then. Even I wouldn’t have known how I would’ve started that new chapter with you—it’s just that at that time, it was the only solution that I got. So I’m incredibly sorry for all the damage that I’ve caused.”

You didn’t quite know what to say. The confession was overwhelming that you found yourself speechless, just sitting there next to Heeseung, whom you know deep inside of your heart, despite all the pain he’s caused, you still loved so much. After all, you inflicted just as much pain to him when all that happened. But there were no words for the situation and it was eating you up that you didn’t know what to say. You felt like you were putting him in the same position as you did three years ago.

“I don’t know why I let my ego take so much of me in the past years to never reach out and try to fix this,” he continued. “It would be fine if you cannot forgive me right now. I can only hope that you do at some point in our lives—”

“Give me time to process it, Heeseung,” you blurted out, forcing yourself to say something. Even just for once, give it your all to never let Heeseung slip from your fingers again like you had done when you said nothing back then. “Give me time. That's all I want.”

“Take as much time as you want,” he smiles softly at you.

Oh you knew you were fucked when you saw that smile again. It’s like your demons were fighting themselves once again and not you anymore—you couldn’t explain it. You were happy and you haven’t felt that specific feeling of love and happiness for quite some time. How can it be so easy for Heeseung to do that to you?

On your third day out there, all of you found yourself sitting in a circle in the living room, with a couple of bottles of expensive sangria. It also turned out that you didn’t drink much because you were not blessed with the best alcohol tolerance that Chaeryeong and Jake had. After a couple glasses of sangria, you were already properly drunk off your face. But to your comfort, Ida was not any better. Jay had brought her to bed a good hour ago and the fact that you're still here, still sipping on your glass is an achievement itself.

“I miss when Jake wasn’t a bitch and he actually did not have to rely on me on Chaer to pass,” you blurted out, laughing as you leaned against Chaer.

“When was that? When wasn’t Jake a bitch?” Chaer laughed, unaware that she was actually sitting across from where you were instead of beside you. Heeseung could only smile as his heart swells at the sudden skinship. It’s been a while since he felt that way—or maybe he was just buzzed from the Sangria—or maybe he was falling in love. Either way, he doesn’t mind. Your hair smells nice, and you seem cozy resting your heavy head on his shoulder. “Jake is born a bitch and will die a bitch.”

“Why am I catching strays all of sudden?” Jake argues, sitting up straight as he pours Chaeryeong another glass.

“Because you’re a bitch!” You laughed continuously, completely off your face as you snuggled closer to what you thought was Chaeryeong. “I don’t even know why Heeseung thought I would choose you over him. The only thing I ever think of is whether or not it’s valid to pick a fight with you for giving me a headache all the time! Why would I even think about kissing you?”

“Y/N–”

“Girl, don’t even get me started—I have to call you so I can get up in the morning, I have to send you notes, keep up with your org work and your duty schedule because if I don’t you’d be a damned dead man walking! And why would I want to kiss you! Heeseung did that very well—”

“I do?”

You could feel the vibrations of his voice against the side of your head…oh shit.

Chaer… Chaeryeong… is sitting across you… next to Jake—

So then… who’s…. You sit up hastily and sharply turn towards him. You soon feel the alcohol washing out of you as soon as you realize that it wasn’t Chaeryeong you were leaning against all this time. Holy shit. You wanted the ground to open and swallow you whole right then and there— you couldn’t do it anymore.

“Tell me, baby. Did I kiss you well?” he asked again, watching as your eyes turned from shocked to dilated as you tilt your head slightly, smirking at him.

“You haven’t in a while. I wouldn’t dare to trust my judgment on that one,” you answer him. You don’t even know where it came from, liquid courage got the best of you in this one. Even Jay was sitting there, in shock of how risky you were getting.

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” he dared.

“Okay, you’re both drunk—” Jungwon stands up, panicked, preparing to pull you away before you do something you will regret.

“Oh let them be!” Chaer argues, pulling Jungwon back to his seat.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

You woke up with a massive headache. You daresay the world might be spinning before you as you pull yourself up from your bed. The sun was shining too bright—God you don’t remember having your bed across a glass door, what the hell.

And why doesn’t it smell like Chaeryeong lavender humidifier?

You rub your eyes to try and get a grip on where you were. It didn’t take a few more blinks before you realized that this isn’t yours and Chaeryeong’s room.

“Fuck.”

Well, you were dressed at least. You weren’t hurting anywhere but your massive migraine to be so sure if you did hook up with anyone last night. Jesus, you couldn’t remember anything and every time you tried you were welcomed with a massive wave of headache.

“Well, at least you beat Ida too in waking up first.” Heeseung chuckled from the door, making you jump in surprise as you looked at him, shirtless with only his sweatpants on with a tray of breakfast.

“Why aren’t you dressed?” You yelled at him, looking away.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, Y/N,” he chuckled as he settled the tray in front of you. “Eat up. You were out of it last night, Chaeryeong had to fight you to get you to change into your pajamas.”

“What did I do last night?”

“Do you really want to know?” He chuckled as he moved around at the foot of his bed to make himself comfortable.

“I woke up in your room— I’m already in too deep, nothing could be more embarrassing.”

“Well, aside from fighting Chaeryeong to get you to change, you also fought Jake to switch rooms with you so he can room with Chaer and you’d be in our room.” He started. “You insisted we had a serious matter to talk about but as soon as you were lying on the bed you refused to sleep until I gave you a kiss.”

“So did you?” you asked, reaching for the cup of ginger tea on the tray.

“You did sleep, didn’t you?”

“Too bad I can’t remember it,” you hummed nonchalantly, closing your eyes as you enjoyed your tea. “Do you want to discuss the important matter now?”

“Do you even remember what the important matter was?” he replied.

It was as if you could feel the room slowly turn cold as you peel your eyes open, seeing Heeseung look at you intently.

Of course you know what the important matter was. It was an important matter before you were drunk. It was an important matter before you were here in the first place.

“We were always an important matter to me, Hee,” you sighed. “I’m sorry I made you feel like it wasn’t three years ago.”

“It’s forgiven,” he replied shortly. “You had a lot on your plate and it took me a while to realize that. I should be the one asking for your forgiveness.”

“We both drew blood, Hee,” you said, softly, moving the tray to move closer to him. “And I fucked up just as much as you think you did. All I want to talk about is how do you want to move forward from this.”

“Would I be crazy to say that I want us to try again?”

You could feel your heart skip a beat as soon as you heard Hee asked you that. There’s nothing you wanted more than to have your Heeseung back. To have someone to hold and go home to. To be at home at last.

“It would be even more crazy of me if I declined that after years of manifesting fate would bring you back to me,” you smiled at him.

The next thing you knew he was moving the tray out of the bed, proposing something else for breakfast. You couldn’t care less, though. Your problems were all solved. Just have to survive medical school and everything else is in place—even if it wasn’t, at least Heeseung has you now—you don’t mind adversity, especially if it meant, Hee was there to hold your hand through it.

—end.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

masterlist

a/n : hiiiiiii i'm so sorry for being mia ! internship and everything else with my personal life and school has been taking a toll on my mental health and i had to step back a bit which resulted into this ( along with the mob fic that i've been trying to write ) being pushed to the backburner but it's here now ! i would also like to thank u guys sm for the love you've given home race winner i genuinely did not think that fic would do well but i'm glad u guys enjoyed it ! i hope u guys enjoy this as much as that one !!

also if you have requests, or any plot ideas whether it may be for a part 2 of my other previous works lemme know here or dm me ! i'll try my best to write itttt ! ( might post my requests reminders later on but i'll let u guys know immediately if i'm uncomfy with the req, it's my first time doing this and i still don't have a concept of what i can and can't write so might still figure that out along the way )

tnx for making it this far <33

xo, anya ୨୧

#୨୧ anya's works #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen angst #enha fluff #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #heeseung angst #heeseung x reader #heeseung exes to lovers #heeseung x you #heeseung x y/n #heeseung x medical school!reader #lee heeseung #enhypen nonidol!au #enhypen au

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genericpuff · 21 hours

Note

Wait, if Hera hated nymphs, does that mean she had beef with Poseidon's wife???

Who knows, but it does shed a whole new light on this scene from Episode 1:

Like, in the context of the scene, it's clear the point of this interaction is to highlight how "lonely" Hades is that he's the only one at the party without a date. Though I do think it's funny that Hades is frustrated / shocked at the revelation that Poseidon brought his wife to a party that she would presumably be invited to attend, like... of course Poseidon is here with his wife, that makes Amphitrite royalty by extension and so at the very least she'd likely be obligated to attend even if she, for some reason, didn't want to go.

So Hades being like "GOD you mean I'm the ONLY UNMARRIED GUY without a DATE???" like yeah man that's what it means to not be married LOL

But in hindsight, knowing what we know now about Hera being cruel to satyrs and nymphs who are canonically lower class (making it a double whammy of racism AND classism) that interaction of Hades asking Hera if Poseidon brought Amphitrite right after Hera called Minthe "nymph trash" almost feels like Hades calling her out, to which she responds sheepishly, "... Yes."

Again, I know that's not the intention of this scene, but it does come with deeper implications now that the series is over and we know that Hera has a history of racism and classism which largely goes unaddressed.

And those implications kind of read like this:

Hera: "I, for one, am grateful! I don't have to spend the evening with that nymph trash :)"

Hades: "Did Poseidon bring his (oceanid) wife?"

Hera: "(・_・;)... yes, okay, Poseidon brought his wife, Amphritite, but she's not nymph trash or anything, she's one of the good ones!"

Again though, just food for thought that's kinda messed up and kinda funny to think about on re-reads. There's so much classism and racism baked into LO even from the very beginning and it's wild that it wound up going unnoticed for years. Even I didn't really notice it as much as I ought to have when I first started reading. To anyone who's new to the series, LO does a good job at bombarding you with colors, characters, Greek myth references, and feel good fluff moments between H x P to distract you from the often biased and outdated viewpoints in its narrative.

TBH, none of that is to say that Rachel herself is some massive racist for writing a story like this, but I do think she didn't really spend enough time analyzing the works that clearly inspired her and/or challenging her own inspirations to ensure she wasn't continuing the cycle of casual racism. It's really easy to be blissfully aware of your own biases if you never learn to address them, especially when it comes to writing fantasy stories which we tend to "disconnect" from real life, never once realizing that the messages and undertones we might accidentally be sending are often still realities for many people in real life today. Fiction isn't real life, sure, but it can still perpetuate some really dog shit thought patterns and subconscious beliefs if left unchecked, which LO is frankly full of especially upon re-reads with a more critical eye when you're not as likely to get distracted or swept away by the pretty colors and whirlwind romance.

#ask me anything #ama #anon ama #anon ask me anything #lore olympus critical #anti lore olympus #lo critical

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storm-and-starlight · 2 days

Text

Meteoric

This was originally from a larger fic idea that in retrospect wouldn't have worked, but I really liked this one scene, so it's getting posted on its own!

Damian Wayne is ten years old and trapped in a country he doesn't know with a Batman he was never supposed to be heir to and he is learning how to fall.

"I know how to fall," he snaps, irritated already -- he has already been trained, by people better than Grayson will ever be. It's more than muscle memory at this point -- it's more like running, breathing, the step and flex and roll to come back up already swinging.

"Do you now," Grayson says, trying for amused and interested and ending up with tired instead. "Off of buildings?"

"Yes," because how different can it be, really, except they're up on the pinnacle of Wayne Tower already, so high he can barely make out the shapes of the cars below them, looking out on the wide stretch of the city, darkened smoky stone and warm golden lighting and the great black expanse of the sea beyond it all. He has seen the images of his Father surveying his city, settled on the snarling head of a gargoyle or in the darkness behind neon lights, wrapped in shadow. Grayson is no master of stealth, no darkly watchful presence -- he leans wildly out over the gap, cape bannering out behind him in the wind, and looks up.

"Okay," Grayson says, still sounding tired, and turns to look at him. The cowl does not suit him; his chin is too narrow. "Wayne Tower's a good reference point if you need to get somewhere fast -- it's got good access to most of the major roads, and it's high enough you can grapple pretty much anywhere without slowing down too much."

"Yes," says Damian, "obviously."

"So, we're going to use it as practice," and Grayson fires a grapple at the neighboring skyscraper, checks it with a hard tug, and hands the gun over to Damian. "Like we did in the Bunker--"

"Release at apex, reset, fire again. I am aware." He is trained in all the things his father was trained in, during his time before he became the Bat, but he was not trained in this. This was something he learned in Gotham, on buildings such as this one, and Damian was not born to this city, to the home of Batman -- but he has been named Robin, and he has seen how all the rest of them fly. He sets his feet, braces for the leap -- below him, the city rumbles, never sleeping -- the line is almost invisible in the dark.

Grayson shifts, stepping closer, cape snapping in the wind.

"Going to tell me not to look down?" Damian gives his own tug on the line, which refuses to budge, and looks up, and out, and down, at the impossible plummet under his feet.

"Robin," Grayson says, tired and grieving and still somehow full of that infinite, impossible gentleness, that disgustingly soft core of him that Damian has wanted to plunge a knife into since the day they met, and "I am not afraid," Damian snaps, and leaps.

It's -- terrifying, paralyzing, the rush and plummet, the wind catching in his ears and howling, the thin rubber grip of the grapple gun in his palms all too slick for when his weight catches against the line and pulls him back upward, and yet it's also-- amazing, and he whoops sudden and startled and delighted when the arc runs out and he is flying, hanging weightless at the top of the world with all the lights of the city and the sea around him, black and gold and brilliant.

And then gravity reasserts her grip and hauls him back down to the Earth, backwards. He clings instinctively tighter to the gun, cape twisting, flapping, tangling with his legs as he falls blindly back towards the uncaring streets -- and an arm hooks around his waist and hauls him back up again with the benefit of greater mass and greater momentum, and with a jolt he finally hits the release and lets Grayson sweep him up onto the roof of the next building, landing without a breath of a sound.

Damian shoves his way free and Grayson lets him go, lets him shove the grappling gun back in the holster on his belt and stride off to the middle of the roof, glaring down at the smoke-stained concrete. He has practiced this a hundred times over in the Bunker, the changeover, the weightlessness -- he has done it perfectly on the practice course, again and again, until Grayson finally agreed to take him out into the city without the Batmobile, and he froze--

"You're not the only one, you know," Grayson says, and Damian pauses. He doesn't look back, but he pauses, and Grayson sighs. "Tim did the same thing all the time when he was learning. It takes practice."

"I have had practice."

"Not on the streets."

"What difference should that make?"

Damian can feel Grayson's Look, boring in between his shoulder blades, and he clicks his tongue and turns back to the edge of the roof. This building isn't quite so tall, and flatter on top. Any leap will be reliant more on the winch feature of the grappling guns to haul him up to the next roof in the chain.

"Damian," Grayson says, stepping up next to him.

"Names."

"Fine, then, Robin," and he actually manages to hit amused. "You want to know a secret?"

"Hm."

Grayson leans in, conspiratorial, and Damian refrains from tilting himself away. Grayson's secrets are... varied, in terms of how secret they must be kept, and frequently inane, but occasionally... occasionally they are his father's secrets, and Damian-- holds tight to those.

They are his birthright, after all.

"Bruce didn't know how to do this either," Grayson whispers, close and quiet in his ear.

"I am aware of that." There was, after all, a time when his father was not Batman, Damian knows, and his lack of training then does not excuse Damian's current inability--

"No, I mean even as Batman," and Damian whips his head up to look at him, but Grayson is looking out over the shining lights of the city, unreadable behind the cowl. "

In the early days, he didn't-- leap like this."

"Explain."

"He didn't have the training. Who would be crazy enough to teach him how to-- throw himself off skyscrapers?"

"Surely there would have been someone--"

"Before all of this? Before the Justice League? Before Superman? Bruce--

"Names."

"--your father knew a lot of things, but he didn't know this." Grayson shrugs, shoulders drooping as though the cape is dragging them down. "Back then -- well, actually, back then we mostly used the Batmobile, but when we did do rooftop patrols it was a different technique. Lower buildings, narrower streets, different line attachments, no midair switches and no big drops like that. I spent a lot of time using a grapple like an elevator as a kid," and he-- laughs, soft and quiet and wistful. "I learned a lot from him, but I didn't learn how to fly."

"But the others--" He has seen the recordings of his-- predecessors, of Drake's careless confidence in the air, Todd's reckless swoops -- even Brown is better at this than Damian, and that cannot stand. His mother told him that Batman would close the gaps in his education (what small ones there were), that he would be the greatest of his students, and yet he cannot do this, and his father is not here to teach him -- and yet his father did not teach Grayson, either--

"They learned from me," Grayson says. "Bruce did too, sort of -- it wasn't exactly like trapeze, I had to figure out a lot of it, heh, on the fly, and I worked out the technique with him -- but the basics? That's all me. Robin flew before Batman ever did."

"...tt," Damian says, because he has no idea what else to do, but he looks out over Gotham's neon-and-gold and wonders, briefly, what it must have been like, all those years ago, to take that first leap. To look up to the sky and see Batman and Robin, aloft.

"Trust me, Robin, you'll pick it up," Grayson says, resettling the cape on his shoulders, and Damian looks up at him again. He's smiling, now, and the cowl still doesn't suit him but it's less about the shape of his face or the tilt of his chin and more that Richard Grayson, perhaps, should not be wearing the cowl at all. "You've already got the hardest step down."

"Which is?"

"Don't be afraid to fall," Grayson says, and gestures out at the city in front of them, alive with light. "All you've gotta do is keep moving forward. I'll be right behind you," and English isn't Damian's first language but Mother found him only the best of the best to be his tutors, and he hears the second meaning underneath the words. I'll be there to catch you.

"Tt," says Damian, and leaps.

#dc #batman #batfam #nightwing #dick grayson #damian wayne #storm's writing #storm's fic #storytelling #batman fic

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sweetyyhippyy · 1 day

Text

After Party. Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader. *Fluff*

Summary: Eddie's fiancé has the best time at her bachelorette party. So much fun that Eddie has to take care of her when she gets home.

Word Count: 1.6k

TW: Very drunk reader. Mentions of alcohol. Reader being kind of an airhead (she's drunk its not her fault). Reader also being hungover.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie had long nodded off on the couch, the reruns on the tv had run their course and now the late night infomercials played. He felt himself falling asleep while he waited for his fiancé to make her way back home from her bachelorette party, bargaining with himself he would only close his eyes for 5 minutes.

The rapid ding of the doorbell jolted him awake, his brown eyes scanning the room in confusion at first until the annoyance of the constant ringing brought him back. He lifted himself onto his feet, shuffling to the door and opening it up.

His fiancé was wrapped around her best friend Gianna, a squiggly smile on her face.

“She’s fucked up.” Gianna says, handing Eddie his bride-to-be's discarded boots and her clutch purse. “I would have called to have you come pick her up, but she threatened to push me into a bush if I called you.”

Eddie sighed, tossing her belongings onto the floor next to him and stepping out to grab hold of his fiancé.

“Hello, handsome.” She slurs the second Eddie takes her by her hand. “I’m a married woman!” She snatches her hand out of his, furrowing her eyebrows at him.

Eddie wanted to be amused, but he also knew she was going to fight him every step of the way until her eyes closed for the night.

“I tried to get some food in her, but she wanted nothing to do with it. I brought it just in case you have better luck.”

“I want him to give me chicken nuggets.” She grumbles at her friend, giving her a glaring look.

“If you come inside, I’ll give you some chicken nuggets. But you have to let me help you.”

“But Eddie will get mad if you touch me.” She pouts her bottom lip out dramatically, batting her eyes at him adorably.

“I’ll talk to him and tell him I was just trying to help you and feed you.” He offers his hand again slowly, her hand reaching out for her while she untangles herself from Gianna.

“She had like 5 tequila shots. That’s what this is.” Gianna laughs. “Your turn now.”

“Yeah, thanks.” He replies, giving her an unamused face.

“You put a ring on it, you’re responsible. I’ll call her in the morning to check up on her.”

“You need me to call you a cab?” Eddie asks, not wanting to let her go without a safe ride home.

“Gareth picked us up. He’s parked out front. Thanks though. Good luck.”

Eddie leads her inside, carefully guiding her through the house

until they reach their bedroom. “Here, let’s sit right here so I can help you get undressed.”

She giggles loudly, bouncing on the edge of the bed. “You’re going to see me naked? And on the first date?”

Eddie can’t help but smirk at her, kneeling down on one knee, grabbing her by her ankle to take her sock off.

“My husband has that necklace. You kinda look like him, but he’s hotter.” She wiggles her eyebrows, laughing to herself.

Eddie secretly loved she already referred to him as her husband.

“Where is he? He’s not here taking care of you while you’re drunk.” Eddie teases back to her.

She stares at him for a while, quiet for the first time since she’s been home.

Eddie was ready to jump up and grab the trash can in case she was unable to hold her liquor anymore. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“You look a lot like my husband.” She pokes his cheek with her finger. “But he’s hotter.” She repeats herself, smiling from ear to ear.

As much as he loved her, she turned real dingy when she was drunk but it always made for an entertaining night.

Eddie goes back to taking her socks off for her, rubbing her ankle when she complained her ankles were sore from her boots.

“I miss my husband.” She sighs, laying back on the mattress dramatically.

“What’s your husband like?” Eddie teases, wanting to see what she would say.

She sits up onto her elbows, smiling like an idiot. “Well like I said earlier, he kinda looks like you, but he’s so much hotter. He has really pretty brown eyes, and he has this really cute mole on his lower tummy. And he’s kinda nerdy but I like it, nerds are so cute. And he’s really sweet, he loves me even though I’m really annoying and even though I drool in my sleep.”

Eddie stifles a laugh, he sure did love her despite her drooling in her sleep. “Sounds like a hell of a guy if you ask me.”

She hums happily. “He got me this.” She shows off the engagement ring on her hand, smiling at it.

He wasn’t going to lie, he wasn’t entirely happy with the engagement ring he had bought her. He always wanted to get her a flashy diamond like her friend Janett Marks had when she got engaged. But all he could afford was a puny diamond that was barely .5 caret. He thought she deserved something so much bigger.

“Eddie worked so hard to get this for me. Worked a lot of hours and saved a lot of money.” A warm smile spreads across her face the longer she looks at the ring. “I really lucked out with him, I have such a good man.”

Eddie couldn’t help but smile at her, wanting nothing more than to kiss her but she didn’t even know who he was and he didn’t want to confuse her. “Yeah, it sounds like you have a good one there. Why don’t I get you some pajamas and get you to bed?”

She whines, throwing herself back into the bed. “I’m hungry! Eddie always feeds me!”

“What do you want to eat, sweetheart?”

“First,” She hops back up, wagging her finger around in the air. “Nobody calls me sweetheart other than Eddie.”

“Okay, noted. I’m sorry.”

“Second, I want taquitos with cheese.”

Eddie bites back a smile, nodding his head. “Alright, I can do that. But you gotta change.” He walks over to her dresser, getting out a pair of sweatpants and a band tshirt for her.

“You’re trying to get me naked!” She laughs obnoxiously. “You naughty boy! You can’t see me naked! You have to go!”

“Yup, yup. I’m going.” Eddie puts his hands up in the air to surrender, closing the door behind him. “Jesus Christ.” He sighs, never seeing her that drunk before. He knew the next morning was going to be rough for her.

By the time the taquitos were done in the microwave, she still hadn't come out of their bedroom and he was a little worried that she might have gotten sick or hurt herself by accident.

He walks back to the room, slowly opening the door to peek his head in.

She’s in the middle of the bed and on top of the sheets, pajamas surprisingly on her body correctly, small snores coming from her.

Eddie goes into their closet and grabs an extra blanket, laying it on top of her, along with the trash can next to her side of the bed, just in case. “Love you, sweetheart.”

***

Eddie jumps back from the pan as the grease from the bacon pops at him. “Fucker.” He curses, turning the heat down.

“Eds?” He hears a mumble from behind him.

He turns around to see his fiancé dragging her feet into the kitchen, eyes half open, black smudges under her eyes from the makeup Eddie tried to wipe off her face while she was asleep, and hair going in every single direction.

“Oh good afternoon sleepy head. So nice of you to get up this fine Saturday morning. How’d you sleep?” Eddie puts on his best chipper tone, teasing her in her hungover state.

“I feel like a giant bus hit me and ran me over.” She whines, sitting in the chair a few feet from him. “Did you have to come get me?”

“No Gareth and Gianna brought you home, but not without a fight from you.” He smirks, putting a large glass of ice water and Tylenol in front of her.

She grimaced at him, only imagining what she did or said to him last night. “Oh god I’m sorry. Did I say anything incriminating?”

Eddie chuckles to himself as he flips the bacon onto the other side. “Just that your husband is hotter than me.” He turns back to look at her reaction, a shit eating grin on his face.

She groans to herself, struggling to open the medicine bottle before whining and looking to Eddie for help.

Eddie walks over, taking the bottle from her and opening it, shaking two white pills out and handing them to her. “Would you like a tequila sunrise to wash that down?” He teases.

Her body visibly retches at the word tequila. “God no, eww.”

“Come on babe!” Eddie chuckles loudly. “They say the cure to a killer hangover is to keep drinking.”

She glares at him, holding up her middle finger to him. “You’re an ass.” She pops the pills into her mouth and takes a few sips of water before putting the cup down. “I’m sorry if I was embarrassing or was too much last night. I know sloppy drunks aren’t fun.”

He smiles as he kisses her temple. “You had fun at your bachelorette party and I’m glad. I’ll gladly take care of you when you’re fucked up any day. It’s all part of the deal, right?” Eddie takes her left hand and touches her engagement ring.

She smiles at him and softly nods her head. “All part of the deal.”

“Besides, next weekend is my bachelor party. And who knows what kind of shit the guys and I are going to get into.” Eddie smirks before walking away to finish cooking breakfast.

She knew she was going to be in way over her head with drunk Eddie next weekend. She would no doubt have to rope Wayne into helping her.

#Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson fic #Eddie Munson fan fic #Eddie Munson fluff fic #Eddie Munson fluff fan fic #Eddie Munson Stranger Things #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson x fem reader #Eddie Munson x fem! reader #Eddie Munson x fem reader fluff #Eddie Munson x fem! reader fluff

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tealottie · 2 days

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What are your headcanons about Della?

I have so many, but tbh my favorite headcanons have to do with her having PTSD - so i can't promise this will be a fun post

MASTERLIST OF DELLA HEADCANONS BELOW:

Appearance:

Scars from the Moon

One across her beak on left side

Scars on her arms and legs

Other markings

Stretch marks especially on her tummy and butt

A few stretch marks on her chest and thighs

Freckles on her beak (because she had triplets and ducks IRL sometimes get freckles after pregnancy)

Other

Chubby pear shape

DD cup size

Squishy belly

Big eyes

Fluffy unkempt feathers (she's bad at preening)

Thin hair (also bad at taking care of it)

Short beak

Queer Headcanons:

Homoromantic

Bisexual

Prefers to just call herself a lesbian

Ciswoman (doesn't mind they/them pronouns and probably finds it entertaining if she's referred to as he/him)

Supports all of her queer babies

She also does not actively seek out romance, but she isn't offput by the idea entirely

Mental Health and Neurodiverse Headcanons:

PTSD

Hates being alone at any given moment and had to ask Donald if she could room with him in the houseboat for a few months

Genuinely cannot look at her reflection and will be needing exposure therapy

Does not like the feeling of movement underwater because it reminds her of the moon's gravity

Terrified that she'll never be fully capable of being a mom because of the 10 years she missed

Cringes at any moon or space themed items now - sometimes triggers her on a bad day or if she looks at them for too long

Her hair being too long is a trigger for her, so she always keeps it shoulder length or above

She ALWAYS feels cold even if her body temperature is normal and sometimes it drives her crazy

Lots of nightmares about what-ifs - what if it was my kids instead of me, what if it was my brother instead of me, what if i didnt have oxychew, what if i never met the Moonlanders, etc etc etc

The taste of black licorice will genuinely send her spiraling, and because it lingers - it wrecks her for days (she hates similar flavors such as rootbeer)

Finds a lot of joy in warm places so she now loves to be out in the sun

Had a period of time where she wasn't really talking with Penumbra because of the severity of her triggers/ptsd

Both finds peace in dead silence, but it also brings her back to the moon as well - she has a very complex relationship with isolation

Prefers silver over gold (even though she doesn't wear jewelry, she likes silver on others and silver on things such as zippers and buttons)

Spent quite a few years terrified of flying after the horror of her own trauma set in, but it threw her into a big depression since piloting is her passion

Hates taking care of her stump because she doesn't like taking her prosthetic leg off - she sees it as her own, so she hates taking it off even though she knows she needs to when sleeping or showering

She has a hard time looking at her stump and scars because on one hand; sick as hell battle wounds, but on the other; damn was that the worst time in my entire life

Depression and Anxiety

Even before crashlanding on the moon, she dealt with depression and social anxiety

She has a bit of a hard time keeping her room tidy and taking care of herself, but she's phenomenal at putting other people first

Feels as though she's not attractive enough

Wants to be a ray of sunshine in other peoples' lives

She's very scared that she won't be enough for people and therefore she must put 110% into everything she does for others

ADHD and Autism

Her sensory issues tend to directly conflict with her PTSD issues - like she hates silence because of the moon, but sometimes she gets overstimulated by noise and needs the silence or alone time

She does not sleep until her body physically passes out because the change in activity is hard for her to deal with

Goes insane if she feels understimulated because her brain begins to shut down and she dissociates

Many, many stims (sometimes doubles as grounding with PTSD): bouncing her leg, various hand motions, feeling the fabric of her clothes, physical affection with her loved ones, playing with the tightness of her prosthetic (loosening and then tightening it over and over), shaking her head to feel her hair around her shoulders (and solidifying that what she's feeling is earth gravity)

Really hard time understanding social cues that makes her come across as rather ditzy

Special interest in aircraft technology and was a top student at her flight school

Love/Hate relationship with reading because if she enjoys what she's reading she gets invested, but if she's understimulated, the words jumble together in her mind

Not good at math for a similar reason

Fish are a huge sensory nightmare for her; the scales, the smell, the taste, etc

Is generally pretty sensory-seeking, but has a few Hard Nos on textures (such as slimy scales)

Other:

I headcanon Della having compulsive sexual behavior disorder, and her libido especially spiked after being on the moon for 10 years, and it makes her feel really gross at times

Due to said hypersexuality, she gets intrusive thoughts that piss her off

Because of the moon not really having a clear indicator of night and day, Della lost her circadian rhythm and struggles with a Hell combination of non-24 and ADHD insomnia

The lack of general sleep makes it hard for her to lose weight and so she's insecure about that

Physical Disabilities:

Because she was on the moon for so long, the zero gravity and lack of proper breathable oxygen took a huge toll on her, physically

She developed really bad asthma and will likely be recovering from it for the rest of her life

Her lungs can only intake so much oxygen at a time, so she also struggles with shortness of breath

Upon returning to earth, her body was really broken down from the cold atmosphere - causing her to not be able to regulate her body temperature properly

Her bones were weakened upon arrival, so she has to spend years recovering physically from it

Her stump is irritated a lot because she doesn't like taking care of it properly

She owns crutches for when she needs to take breaks from her prosthetic just because of the discomfort when wearing it

She is not afraid to hit Donald with a crutch BTW

IF THERE ARE ANY OTHER SPECIFIC HEADCANONS THAT YOU ARE CURIOUS ABOUT, SHOOT ME AN ASK! <3

#dt17 #ducktales #duckverse #ducktales 2017 #della duck #della #ducktales della #ducktales headcanons #headcanons #dt17 analysis #ask blog #inbox #ask me anything #queer #disability pride #disney ducks #disney tva

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deathricedrawn · 2 days

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girl peri if u even gaf (more stuff below)

This piece was made for personal use as an icon!!! for me!!! if u want to use it tho go ahead!

I love Women and i love Peri from fopanw so i made peri from fopanw into a girl and I LOVE HERRRR SHES SO CUTE. This is my interpretation of her!!!!! shes kind of like an oc to me

This isnt like a genderbent au where like, everyones gender is swapped. Only peri and irep turn into Girls and everyone stays the same👍 That being said I'm kind of projecting my gender identity onto girl peri and she's actually genderfluid instead of being a Binary Girl. Sometimes she feels very comfortable being feminine and a Girl but sometimes she also feels masculine and like a guy, just with feminine presentation. Shes like the "how i look with he/him pronouns in my bio" meme. On that same topic, i like to think she goes by she/him pronouns (though i refer to her with she/her so people dont get her confused with Canon Peri🤘)

Heres a doodle i did when figuring out her design. Her hair is VERY soft and i ended up going with a lighter shade of purple for her hair than depicted here to give her a softer/more whimsical feel.

I like girl peri because her vibe is basically like... charismatic woman who comes across as very confident and as if she has everything together and Is A Normal Person, but shes just Not. Shes quick to unravel when faced with the Tons Of Demands from her godkid Dev and her ex.

Speaking of her ex...

BUTCHFEMME PERIEP🗣🗣🗣!!!!!!!! I made this doodle very quickly so its kinda ass but idgaf

I havent thought about him much yet but Irep is a he/him butch (i might slap she/her onto that too, so him and peri are matching but like flipped. so he/her and she/him solidarity🤝). Peri and Irep are both lesbians!!!! YAY!!!!!!

Okay i hope you guys enjoyed my rambles idk what im doing YAYYY Lmk if u wanna see more of girl peri and butch irep. Ill see what i can do🫶

#alice.art #fairly oddparents #peri fop #fop peri #idk how to tag this #Girl Peri #periwinkle fairywinkle cosma #I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT IS HIS CANON NAME.#perirep #its in the stuff below..!!! adding it just in case #fopanw #fop poof #fop a new wish #fanart

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mixelation · 2 days

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oh wait TWO reborn au ideas

i've been toying with the idea of a time travel arc for mutagenicity so how's this:

minato tells tori she has to be hokage but dw, he'll give her a nice long multi-year transition period and mentor her. after all, he had a SHIT time when the title was just dumped on him! he wants to set up a better transition of power

tori is like "Are you fUCKING KIDDING ME i thought it would just be kakashi?????" but also she has just admitted to growing an illegal test tube baby so she's like. fine. if it lets me keep my illegal uchiha heir baby, i will see what this is like. we can obviously just back out if this turns into a disaster

like two weeks into this mentoring thing, they have a time travel accident and both end up in hashirama-era konoha

tori: ....well. tori: you're my mentor tori: mentor us out of this :|

tori is stressed because her TEST TUBE BABY NEEDS CONSTANT ATTENTION???? she keeps referring to herself as "pregnant" but the context never makes sense.

at first minato is like "well, neither of us are clan kids, so we should be able to just blend in" and i feel like choosing this as their plan means it has to get fucked up somehow and obviously they have to meet the senju brothers

minato keeps prompting tori make decisions because uuuh what a great training mission for the types of high stakes decisions she'll have to make as hokage

tori: are you just doing this because YOU have no idea what we're doing either?

and then my other idea is completely unrelated to this one. book club gets into a heated debate about if a bunshin can have free will. tori gets fed up and goes and makes a bunshin with free will, and it immediately escapes. so for a while there's just..... a tori clone out there. doing.... whatever is funniest

(tori is like "well, she's me, so obviously her goal will be to just fuck off and live a peaceful life" and everyone around her is like "oh my god, she is going to destroy a country")

#reborn au

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mellonieee · 1 day

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Every single time Foop/Irep has ever interacted with and/or mentioned his parents

(OG FOP only because he hasn't talked about them once in A New Wish. That might change in season 2 if they decide to include the antifairies more. I love this family and their non-existent relationship ♥️)

I go into quite a bit of detail here so I'll put the rest under the cut!

1. Anti Poof (Season 7, episode 1)

This was the only episode his parents showed up on screen with him. But it's important to note how Anti Wanda and Anti Cosmo react to his existence in the first place. They're excited!

They both want this child! Anti Cosmo starts the episode bemoaning the fact that there isn't an anti-poof and that he wants equality for antifairies. (Poof/Peri has existed for an entire season at this point.)

I'm assuming it's just the case of antifairy pregnancy possibly being longer than fairy pregnancy and the fact Poof/Peri was made through a magic wish unlike Foop/Irep that they weren't born around the same time, but who knows how any of that even works. But regardless of that, his parents are both overjoyed when Foop/Irep is born--Anti Wanda's love for her son is out of the question, and Anti Cosmo only gets mad at his son once Foop/Irep goes out and ruins anti fairy world, not in any other instance does Anti Cosmo act mean to Foop/Irep, even when he gets zapped twice by him, AC merely reprimands Foop/Irep by telling him that he needs a nap.

Gotta love the ending where his parents get him a cake and want to break him out of jail. Baby's first jail time!

Irep/Foop's second appearance Playdate of Doom (Season 7, Episode 22) doesn't have any mention to his parents, sadly. And oddly enough, this goes both ways with his parents. Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda appear in Balance of Flour (season 7, episode 29), which was their last and final on screen appearance in the original show, and they dont mention their son at all. It's noticably weird because Poof/Peri was there the entire time. Despite his parents disappearing off screen, the start of Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda getting mentioned does start the next season after.

2. Love Triangle (season 8, episode 1)

(I'm going to just refer to Irep and Peri as their current names from now on instead of using both because it gets tedious.)

Irep's Kelly Clarkson lunchbox aside--in this scene he states that his Mother packed Anti Venom in his lunch as well as his chicken nuggets. I like to think this means Anti Wanda packs his school lunch regularly because that's cute.

These constant mentions of his parents from here on out are notable because it means that even though they don't show up, heck, they don't even show up in the episode Spellmentary School is introduced despite Cosmo and Wanda being there and that being the perfect opportunity to use Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda, it's being implied and shown that Irep is still in the care and custody of his mother and father.

Despite showing up in season 9 by himself, Irep does not mention either of his parents again after the first episode of season 8, but it's still shown that he lives with his parents in their castle.

(image fromThe Terrible Twosome, Season 9, Episode 6)

3.Return of the L.O.S.E.R.S. (Season 10, Episode 7)

Irep starts mentioning his parents again starting in season 10. In this scene he states that he's in timeout for now because he put spiders in his father's food. If I wanted to get nitpicky about this, Love Triangle implies antifairies actually eat spiders and don't seem to mind.

New Headcanon: Anti Cosmo is the antifairy version of vegan or whatever and that's why he had issue with it.

Irep continues to mention his parents in a few season 10 episodes after this.

4. Blue Angel (season 10, episode 13)

Irep mentions that he took his rich father's credit card and used it to buy a bunch of cars to destroy the environment. I don't doubt Anti Cosmo has a ton of money considering he's the leader of the antifairies, but there's no way he actually gave Irep that card willingly lol. Outside of that the Chloe and Irep interaction in this was nice, the only part of the episode I really liked.

Irep continues to show up in season 10 after this episode and does not mention his parents in any other appearances outside of his last one. Which is episode 35...

5.Certifiable Super Sitter (season 10, episode 35)

Certifiable Super Sitter is that one episode with the Vicky chainsaw image that people keep ragging on because it breaks every established rule. Peri doesn't show up at all for this entire season until this episode. The in-universe reason is because he was at school the entire time, the writing reason being because of too many characters. Despite this, Irep shows up more often than his own counterpart.

Irep states the reason he came over is because "his parents left without leaving him a forwarding address again."

Again? What does he mean by again? He's literally been living in Anti-Cosmo's Castle the entire time. These screenshots are from the exact same season. And there has been nothing to imply that Anti Wanda and Anti Cosmo even moved out of the castle in the first place. The castle in literally still in Anti-Cosmo's name. Even after they stopped appearing, Irep's mentions of them implied that they all still lived in Anti-Cosmo's Castle. How else would Irep be getting his lunches packed by his mother, how else would Irep have gotten in trouble for putting spiders in his father's pasghetti?

Anti Wanda attached herself to her son as soon as he was born and called him "Sweetie." (Anti Poof) Anti Cosmo literally cried over not being able to have a godchild. (The Fairly Oddlympics) I don't think they would purposely do that.

If Irep never mentioned his parents outside of Anti Poof, then I guess that could be a way to explain their absence? But it just doesn't make sense. He kept bringing them up. His parents were in his life. Like I'd even take the explanation of 'Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda had an offscreen 3 season side plot where they get hunted down' or something crazy like that. What happened???

#mellonie takes fop lore too seriously: part 2 #fop #fairly oddparents #the fairly oddparents #anti fairies #anti wanda #irep #anti cosmo #irep fop #i dont play around when it comes to the antifairies man #fopanw #a new wish #fop a new wish

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2amriize · 15 hours

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⟡˖ RIIZE drunk confessions

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist genre crack, fluff pairing riize x reader

ᯓ★ SHOTARO

Shotaro didn't usually get drunk, but when he did, it was hardly noticeable, as his personality remained as happy and energetic as ever. Still, he had confessed to you that most of the time, he tended to forget what had happened while he was drunk, which is why he didn't like getting too drunk. He preferred to enjoy a party while completely sober.

That night, you and Shotaro had made dinner plans for your birthday, as he knew you had wanted to try a sushi restaurant for a long time, and he had decided to invite you as part of your birthday gift. When you ordered drinks, Shotaro decided to try a mango drink with a funny name, not realizing it contained alcohol. It wasn’t until you had finished the first round of sushi that Shotaro began to realize the drink wasn't just mango, which made you laugh quite a bit. You spent some time laughing at the way Shotaro was complaining about the drink, saying that it didn't mention anywhere that it had alcohol and that he felt deceived.

"Don't worry, Shotaro, you usually don't get dizzy anyway."

"But I want to remember tonight..." he murmured as the waiter placed another tray of sushi on the table.

You continued chatting while eating, sharing funny anecdotes and reminiscing about old times you'd spent together. At some point, the conversation shifted to the crushes you both had back in high school, recalling how Shotaro had liked a girl for quite some time.

"Aren't you curious about how she's doing now? Maybe you two might like each other."

"Not really, I'm not interested in her anymore. There's someone else on my mind."

"What? And you haven't told me?" you said, crossing your arms as you looked at him.

"No, it's just that..." Shotaro looked at you before letting out a small sigh, placing one of his hands on his head. "It's someone you know."

"Huh?" You paused for a few seconds, but since all the friends you shared were already in relationships, you looked at him, confused. "I can't think of anyone..."

"I don't want to say it out loud because I know I won't remember it tomorrow, but..." Shotaro looked back at you with a small smile. You exchanged glances for a few seconds, realizing that the person he was referring to was you. You couldn't help but blush and look away after a few seconds, nervously trying to change the subject.

ᯓ★ EUNSEOK

Seeing Eunseok drunk at your door was the last thing you expected that night. You had talked to him a few hours earlier, and he had told you he was going out to dinner with some friends, so you never expected to receive a message saying he was at your door at 1 AM, just when you were about to go to sleep. You opened the door in your pajamas and found Eunseok, who was a bit dressed up. You noticed his eyes looked a bit more tired than usual, and his cheeks were pink. It was when he walked past you that you realized he smelled like alcohol.

"Are you drunk, Eunseok?" you asked while closing the door, watching him as he sat down on your couch.

"Maybe. A little... quite a bit," he said, running his hand through his hair, messing it up as he laughed.

"What are you doing here at this hour? You should go home, you look tired."

You murmured as you returned from the kitchen with a glass of water for Eunseok. You sat beside him on the couch, shaking your head as you sighed.

"I know... but I started walking, and I ended up at your door. Don’t you think it’s fate?"

"What fate, Eunseok...? How much have you had to drink?"

"Not much..." he whispered, taking a sip of water before getting more comfortable on the couch and looking at you. "Y/n, actually..."

"Yes?"

"No, nevermind."

"Eunseok, you can't start a sentence and not finish it. You know how much I hate that..."

"Actually... I came here because I missed you, I really wanted to see you, y/n," he murmured, looking directly into your eyes. "Lately, you’re the only person I think about, I can’t get you out of my head..."

ᯓ★ SUNGCHAN

Sungchan loved going to parties. You weren't really a fan of them, as you got tired quickly and felt stressed when there were too many people, but sometimes you agreed to go to parties with Sungchan because you always had a great time, even if only for a while. That night, your group of friends had plans to go out partying, so Sungchan picked you up from your house to go to the club. As soon as you arrived, he immediately went to get drinks for you and himself. You spent about an hour dancing with everyone, laughing, and being silly. You weren't sure how he did it, but Sungchan got drunk way too fast. Even so, he was always looking out for you, keeping an eye on you in case you needed anything. Sungchan was the kind of person who became a bit sillier when he got drunk. He said nonsensical things, couldn't stop laughing, and made everyone around him laugh too. He just wanted everyone to be having a good time all the time.

After a few hours in the club, you started feeling like your social battery was running out. At first, you tried to hide it and hang on for a bit longer, knowing that if you said you wanted to leave, it would ruin everyone’s mood. Even so, Sungchan noticed that your mood had dropped a bit, so he leaned in close to your ear and said, “Do you want me to walk you home?” You felt a little guilty about making him leave, but Sungchan kept insisting, so the two of you finally left the club.

On the way home, you talked about silly things, anything that came to mind, goofing around as you walked through the streets. You couldn’t help but laugh whenever you were with Sungchan. At one point, when you were close to your house, you started playing “marry, kill, kiss.” At first, you picked people you didn’t like or those you really liked. In one of the rounds, you decided to include yourself and two girls you knew Sungchan had liked at some point.

“I’d kill both of them and marry you, obviously,” Sungchan answered with surprising speed.

“That’s not how the game works, Sungchan, you can’t kill both of them…”

“But I don’t want to kiss either of them. I’d kiss you too.”

You kept walking beside him, looking at him, confused by how casually he responded. You had gotten nervous at his answer, but he seemed completely calm.

“Sungchan, you’re way too drunk.”

“Maybe,” he said, laughing and scratching his head a little. “But I don’t lie when I’m drunk, y/n. I could kiss you right now, but I’d rather be sober for our first kiss.”

ᯓ★ WONBIN

"I think I'm a little dizzy..." Wonbin said, looking at you. His big eyes were gazing into yours, and his cheeks were starting to turn red. You couldn't help but smile and touch his cheeks, noticing how they were gradually warming up.

"That's because you drank half a bottle in less than five minutes, Wonbin," you said with a small laugh, pouring yourself a bit into a small glass.

Both you and Wonbin preferred staying in rather than going out, which is why whenever you felt like hanging out with someone but didn’t want to go out, you would always text each other. That night, you decided to meet up, drink some alcohol, and chat since it had been a while, and it was one of your favorite plans together. Usually, you'd both drink slowly and never get too drunk, but that night Wonbin seemed intent on getting drunk, which surprised you since you'd never seen him like that before.

"Your hands are really cold..." Wonbin mumbled after you removed your hands from his cheeks, placing his own hands on them instead.

"They're always cold," you laughed, watching how he was acting while taking a sip from your glass.

You both talked about your usual topics, sharing the latest gossip you'd heard about people you knew. After an hour of drinking, you could definitely tell that Wonbin was getting a little drunk. You loved teasing him normally, but it was even more fun when he was drunk because he looked so cute when he complained. At one point, both of you fell into a few moments of silence, and you noticed Wonbin’s gaze on you. You looked back at him, locking eyes for a few seconds, but when you saw the way he was looking at you, you looked away, feeling a bit nervous.

"Why are you looking at me like that? You're making me nervous..."

"It's just... you look really pretty," he murmured while still gazing at you.

"Don’t say nonsense, Wonbin, you’re too drunk."

"Maybe I am, but I’m not lying... I really like you, y/n."

ᯓ★ SEUNGHAN

You and Seunghan had gotten along well since the first day you met in class. I mean, everyone liked Seunghan because he was very kind to everyone. You couldn’t deny that you had developed a little crush on him, but you knew how popular he was and thought he probably only saw you as a friend, so you never said anything and had no intention of doing so. Your class group had organized an end-of-year dinner after the exams, so you had all met at a restaurant. As always, Seunghan sat next to you since he was the person you were most comfortable with in your class. At the beginning of the dinner, everyone talked about the teachers and different subjects, but as the night went on, the conversation shifted to gossip and confessions. On top of that, many of your classmates started drinking and getting drunk. You didn’t like drinking alcohol, so you were completely sober. What you didn’t expect was for Seunghan to get drunk, and what surprised you most was the way he acted. Unlike the others, who became much more active and loud, Seunghan seemed calmer. In fact, he was much more affectionate than usual, acting in a way you had never seen before. As the night went on, people gradually left. Eventually, only Seunghan, you, and a few others remained at the table, though Seunghan was already struggling to keep his eyes open. He had drunk too much and was starting to talk about random things, laughing at everything.

At one point, you felt his head rest on your shoulder, which surprised you and made you a little nervous.

“Seunghan… are you okay? Do you want me to call a taxi?” you whispered, glancing at him and grabbing his arm to keep him steady.

“Y/n... I have something to tell you…” he whispered in a low tone, gesturing for you to lean closer. You laughed and leaned in to listen. “I like you...” he whispered a little clumsily before pulling away and giving you a small laugh.

You froze, staring at him. Did you hear him right? Did Seunghan just tell you he liked you? After a few seconds of staring in silence, you shook your head, thinking he only said it because he was drunk.

“Guys... did you know I like y/n?” he said to the others left at the table, who laughed at how drunk he was.

Feeling embarrassed, you decided to call a taxi and grab Seunghan to leave. “I think it’s time to go home, Seunghan…” After dropping him off at his place, you couldn’t help but spend the whole night kicking your feet, thinking about the way he had just confessed to you.

ᯓ★ SOHEE

You loved seeing Sohee drunk. He was already funny normally, but when he got drunk, he became overly extroverted and energetic, which made you laugh a lot. There hadn’t been a party in months, so it had been a long time since you’d seen Sohee drunk. But that night, both of you had been invited to a friend’s house party. It had been weeks since you’d been able to hang out with Sohee due to your schedules, so besides being excited about finally going to a party, you were also excited to see Sohee after so long because you had missed him a lot. Not even an hour had passed before Sohee was dancing everywhere, jumping around, and joking with everyone. You loved seeing him so happy, and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him. You had been together the whole time at the party, but when you returned after grabbing another drink, you found a girl had approached Sohee to talk to him. At first, you felt a little disheartened, but you thought maybe this was Sohee’s chance to meet someone, and who knows, maybe start dating. You couldn’t deny that sometimes you wondered if you liked Sohee, but you always ended up with the same conclusion: you didn’t know.

You decided to go out to the patio to drink, as you didn’t feel like being around the others at that moment. You needed a quiet moment after dancing for so long. After spending a few minutes alone with your thoughts, you noticed someone sit beside you. When you looked, you found Sohee, who sighed and then looked at you, laughing.

“Weren’t you with a girl, Sohee?” you asked, looking at him while sipping your drink.

“Yeah... she came up to talk to me.”

“She was pretty cute, wasn’t she?” you let out a small laugh, nudging Sohee, who seemed rather serious.

“Well, maybe.”

“Is something wrong, Sohee?” You looked at him, noticing his cheeks and ears were a little red. Although Sohee could be very energetic when drunk, there was also a moment when all that energy faded, but he still remained pretty drunk. Most of the time, when this happened, you would stay up late talking about anything together. “Didn’t you like the girl?”

“No... Actually, I’m only interested in one person,” he said, resting his head on his arms and staring at you intently.

You were surprised to hear this and stared back at him. The two of you locked eyes for several long seconds. You couldn’t quite explain it, but you felt like Sohee was speaking to you with his gaze. You couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach from the way he was looking at you.

“Sohee... you know you won’t remember this tomorrow, right?”

“Then remind me, y/n, so I can tell you when I’m sober.”

ᯓ★ ANTON

You and Anton had never gotten drunk before, but when you were younger, you had both promised that the first time you did, you would be together. That’s why you were now in Anton’s living room. You had bought some pizzas and a few bottles of soju since it was the drink all your friends had recommended at some point. To be honest, both of you were excited, but deep down, you were a little nervous about how it would make you feel. To your surprise, after finishing an entire bottle of soju between the two of you, you only felt a little happier. Unlike you, Anton was acting quite differently. First of all, his ears and cheeks were completely red, which you found really cute. You also noticed that he was talking more, and his voice had changed. It was slightly deeper and a bit louder, which surprised you; though you could also tell he was struggling to say some things. After finishing the second bottle, you felt a bit more dizzy, but you decided not to open another one, seeing the state Anton was in. He couldn’t stop talking nonsense and was becoming very touchy with you. You thought that one of you had to stay a bit sensible in case anything happened.

You had already finished eating and were both sitting on the couch watching TV, with Anton’s head resting on your shoulder. At one point, you felt his gaze linger on you longer than usual, so you looked back at him, feeling a bit nervous about the way he was staring at you.

“Is something wrong, Anton...? Are you okay?”

“You have such beautiful hair, y/n…” he began to murmur, making you chuckle. “Your laugh is beautiful too, and your eyes, and your lips…” You both fell silent for a few seconds, looking at each other. “I think I like you, y/n.”

You couldn’t help but be surprised at hearing this, shaking your head several times as you felt your cheeks heat up. “Anton, you don’t know what you’re saying, you’re drunk…”

“I’m serious, y/n, I like you so much. I could kiss you right now…” he whispered, leaning closer to you, but you grabbed his shoulders.

“Anton… let’s talk about this when you’re sober…”

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor

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lost-romantique · 22 hours

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Dispelling Rumors

Alright, for the past few days Viv and her team have been releasing tidbits of the recording progress for Season 3.5 (second half of Season 3).

Viv and her team did this with Harvey Guillén (Vassago's VA) first.

And recently they did this with Bryce Pinkham...

Now I'm not sure where these rumors started, but fans have been speculating that because Harvey and Bryce both have songs being recorded right now, than that means Stolas and Vassago have a duet together!

Frankly, I don't think it's a duet.

Here's why...

A while back Sam Haft teased that he and his team (Andrew Underburg) recently finished a really "filthy" and "straight-up-horniest" song.

Many believe that the song he's referring to is the one Bryce recently recorded which is titled, "Dirty Bird".

Thus some speculate that "Dirty Bird" must be the song Harvey was singing as well.

However, that can't be the case because...

Jacinta announced on her instagram story that she was the one who wrote the song Vassago was going to sing.

Harvey then confirmed it by tagging Jacinta in his own instagram story.

Which leads me to the conclusion that I really don't think "Dirty Bird" is going to be a Stolago Duet.

However, I am positive that the song Bryce is going to sing, "Dirty Bird" is the horny song that Sam mentioned a while back. Simply because Sam on the instagram video, laughs awkwardly and goes "Lets get out of here.... I'm at work... uhm..."

Again, this is all speculation, even if "Dirty Bird" is the horny song Sam wrote, no one knows if Stolas is going to sing about Vassago or Blitz.

But lets face it...

I think we all know who Stolas is singing about...

"Oh, so you're a kinky little imp, aren't you? Do you like it when I talk dirty to you? I want you to [CENSORED] me with your [CENSORED] imp [CENSORED] get it all the way [CENSORED] get it all the way through me, you [CENSORED]!"

Anyway, super massive thanks to @timkontheunsure for providing screenshots! They genuinely made making this post so much easier.

#helluva boss #stolitz #stolas goetia #stolago #blitzo #helluva boss blitz #helluva blitz #helluva boss theory #vassago #blitzo x stolas #Guys I'm sorry but if I had to choose between a Stolago duet or a Stolitz duet... Stolitz all the way #bryce pinkham #vivziepop #sam haft #andrew underburg #Jacinta #harvey guillen

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readychilledwine · 1 day

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What Dreams May Come

Part One - Asher

Summary - 50 years after sending his pregnant mate and children into hiding, Tamlin wants nothing more than to reconnect with his family.

Warnings - Rhys Slander is HEAVY in this series, references to smut, references to abuse, death, schmurder, fated mates and hidden family trope, kind of angst, tension, if you see an error, no you didn't 👀

A/N - I was going to wait to post this mini series, but I can't. I've been rereading it over and over and judging it harshly (as I do all my writing), so I'm putting it out there before I abandon it. Ps- each child has their own powers. You will learn each child in depth during Araceli's chapter. These are just little previews. Bonus points if you can figure out what Asher’s might be.

🥀What Dreams May Come Masterlist🥀Tamlin Masterlist🥀Master Masterlist🥀

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears (seriously peep the blog. Adorable season court Dividers)

Asher was thoroughly unimpressed with the horned beast staring him down as he flirted with the twin river nymphs he had been chasing for a few days now. Feral eyes were locked on his chocolate brown ones before the body of the beast because to slowly approaching. Asher sighed as the nymphs dove back into the water of the river, whispered melodically in their native tongue. “And what manner of beast are you,” He motioned up and down. “I believe parents should write stories about you. Ugly thing, you are.”

He froze as the beast shifted, long blonde hair and sun kissed skin replacing the fur. Strong arms went across a wide chest, “Be careful with your words, son. You look just like me.”

Asher, in fact, did not look like Tamlin. Tamlin screamed of sun, golden blonde hair and green eyes, Asher sang for the moon, dark short hair styled to one side, deep chocolate eyes he must have gotten from his mother's side, tanned skin. It was in their facial structure, the sharp jawline, the nose. That is where the signs of Tamlin rested in his son.

He had grown into a tall male, strong from what Tamlin could tell, but definitely with the same soft heart he had. Tamlin could see it in those eyes. Eyes that currently swan with confusion. The Lord of Sping simply opened his arms smiling as his first son dropped the act and came to him.

“Dad,” the word was foreign on Asher’s tongue. They had been in hiding for so very long, not even mentioning the word out of fear. Asher had not been held by his father since he was 4, but it felt like he remembered.

Hugging Tamlin, hugging his dad, it reminded him of the first warm rain in a season. Of getting a blanket warmed near the fire on cold nights from his mother. Asher melted into it, savored it as he took in the vaguely familiar scent of petrichor and freshly trimmed grass.

“I missed you,” Tamlin's deep voice made his eyes close as he rested his head on his shoulder. “Tell me everything. Tell me every happy moment, every ache, tell me you hate me. Anything, Asher. Anything.”

His mother was not home when Asher brought him back to the cave she had turned into a true home. The rumors that she could move mountains were, possibly, not rumors in her son's eyes, because, behind the waterfall the cave was hidden by, she had created a home. Everything he and his siblings had needed was magically summoned and made by his mother. They never wanted anything during the 50 years they had been isolated.

Asher knew now his mom's magic ensured they had beds, blankets, comfort, through technically stealing. To be conjured, it had to come from somewhere. He had written a poem once about being a shopkeeper in the Night Court and coming into an emptied out shop, but Asher would put money on his mother somehow leaving a note to bill the High Lord of Night.

Asher had also written a poem about his Uncle finding said bill. His mother told him it was inappropriate while smiling and folding it into her back pocket.

He and Tamlin stayed quiet as he let the blonde male look around, “They say you can take the female out of the Night Court, but never the Night Court out of the female.”

Asher scoffed at that, “I believe she picked our furniture and goods on where she wanted to take from. Can't feel bad stealing from a rich asshole,” he quoted her exact words.

Tamlin gave him a look, his lips clearly trying to remain in a stern position. “Your uncle is a-”

“Pompous asshole who feels that he is the change the world needs by just existing and not acting,” Asher was raising a dark brow at him as he poured them some tea. “Mom told me.”

“Asher,” Tamlin continued to try to be firm, “We do not speak of family that way.”

Asher blinked at him, unphased. This child, his oldest son, his mind was unwavering. Not even the Gods themselves could convince them of his Uncle Rhysand's good had they tried. It was his mom's fault, she was blunt and cut throat with her honesty, even when she knew lying would have been best.

Asher had found the history. He'd read the story of how his grandfather had threatened the life of his grandmother, forcing his father's hand to tell him where Rhysand would be meeting his mother and youngest sister. He read how his grandfather forced his father to watch as he mutilated them.

He then read how Rhysand and his maternal grandfather got their revenge. Minds being melted, an innocent female, a victim in her own right, slaughtered mercilessly. Asher’s mother had still chosen his father, though. She was the only one who saw both sides and felt both heavy hands. Asher knew from the sadness in her eyes she would pick Tamlin again and again, though he had not met his own mate to know why yet.

“Do you always chase females,” Tamlin finally sat, relaxing enough to truly appreciate how handsome his son was.

A wide grin appeared on Asher’s face, “I can't help but to chase them. I've never met an ugly female, father.”

Tamlin internally cringed at the word father, so informal to the earlier plea of “Dad”. “So no type?”

“Pretty, and they all are. Has to enjoy my poetry, and they all do. I have a, uh, certain way with words."

“So you seduce them with just words?”

Asher glanced up, “Why try something else when I am so good at it.” His face was filled with pride as he went to the book shelf and grabbed a leather book worn with love. He handed the heavy collection of paper to him, “Go ahead. Tell me how fantastic I am.”

Tamlin chuckled as he opened the book. It was definitely made in the Night Court, a sign of where his wife had been technically stealing from outside the obvious furniture and leathers Asher was wearing. The pages were thick, stained slightly from ink transferring from paper to hand and back. His son's handwriting was influenced by his wife. Soft scrolls flowing together like a melody. The poetry was good, very good. “You haven't decided if you like Quatrain or Villanelle, have you?”

“No,” Asher shifted. “Should I have?”

Tamlin shook his head, “I'm over 500 years old and still bounce from around with different formats and stanza structures.” He continued reading an odd feeling setting into him before he closed the book and saw the shocked look on his son's face.

"You write poetry?!" He watched deep eyes light up and the conversation flew from there, father and son, bonding over poetry, over literature.

The topics grew, varying from serious, to funny, to gossip. Tea constantly poured between them as they discussed being forced to train, of their mutual love of chocolate, of their favorite writers. Tamlin learned so much as the hours past before Asher asked if he wanted some fresh air.

Asher was strong, mentally, emotionally, and physically. It comforted Tamlin as they moved outside using a back magical gate made by Araceli. It took them to a vegetable garden that thrived, insects flying all around, fruit hanging from heavy trees. “Where is this place,” Tamlin looked around.

“We're still in The Middle,” Asher laid out the blanket before gently tossing his bag down. “I'm sure you secretly do recognize the cottage we're near.” The High Lord did, nodding as he studied the place he'd been told his whole life to avoid. The Weaver’s home was deadly, dangerous, and forbidden. Yet his son sat outside of it like it wasn't even phasing him. “Mom made her a deal. The Weaver likes her hair. Mom likes the protect she gives us. Once a year, mom let's The Weave cut her hair for threads in exchange for protection and us being allowed to grow this garden.”

The horrified expression on his father's face wasn't missed by Asher. A bargain with a being like The Weaver was not taken lightly. His mom worked hair to ensure her hair stayed healthy, long, and ready. The Weaver claimed her hair had some magical properties, but all Asher envisioned when he was young was the ancient being using them as some sort of enchanted tie to his mom, ready to rip her from them and eat them at any given notice.

“Is she insane?!”

Eyes narrowed at him, “She was alone,” Asher emphasized the word making it a dagger. “She did a lot of dangerous things to protect us. You should be worshiping the very ground she walks upon.”

Momma’s boy.

Asher was still momma’s boy.

Tamlin shook his head, “I love her. More than you know and understand. I love you more than you understand.”

“Loved them so much you hid them away in one of the most dangerous places in the realm?” The soft female voice had Asher smirking. Tamlin turned to face a young blonde, her hair falling in soft waves with braids placed strategically to help prevent the locks from falling into soft green eyes.

This. This was him. Had Tamlin been born a female, this is what he'd look like. One cheek dimpled as she smiled, the asymmetry flattered her, complimenting soft cheek bones, a gently sloped nose, full blush lips. Along every inch of her face, freckles danced, marking her skin like soft kisses.

“Sister,” a pen met paper as Asher spoke. “You are busy little bee I see.”

Her hands were both filled with baskets almost overflowing with herbs, vegetables, edible flowers. Her nails had dirt under the nails and staining the skin. She carrying a look of pride and accomplishment Tamlin knew well. This was her garden and it was fruitful. “Your squash was ready,” she was speaking to Asher but her eyes were on Tamlin. “Momma said she could turn it into soup?” Asher nodded, but he was deep into capturing Something on page, a grunt was his only other response. She continued to stare at Tamlin, “Do you know which of your children I am?”

Tamlin wanted to roll his eyes at her, say of course, but he refrained, watching as she moved, sitting next to Asher but slightly behind him. “I know my own baby girl, Taryn,” the High Lord said. “Your dimple gives you away.” He couldn't help but reach for her cheek, but a firm hand stopped him from touching her.

“I don't believe my sister gave you permission to put your hands on her face.” A smirk of pride grew on Tamlin's face as Asher now fully looked at his father and little sister. “You may touch her when, and if, Taryn allows. Until then, no.”

Taryn leaned her head onto Asher’s shoulder as Tamlin lowered his hand. “You two are close?”

“Very,” they answered in unison.

“How were Darya and Amaya?”

“Who?”

“The river nymphs twins,” Taryn glared at Asher. “The two you've been trying to bed for a week now?”

Asher sighed and laid back, “They're impossible!”

Taryn and Tamlin glanced at him, “How so,” the high lord asked.

“They're identical! They said they only sleep with males who can tell them apart! Their hair is the same length. Their eyes both sparkle like a clear lake. They both have the perfect little nymph figure. Hair black as coal. They're gorgeous, fun, witty.” Asher covered his eyes by dramatically laying his arm across his face, “One of them I am most interested in. I believe it is Darya.”

“Does she have a shell braided Into her hair?”

Asher nodded at his sister's question, “She's.. she's just stunning. Inside and out. I may be in love."

Tamlin hid a smile as he reached into Taryn's woven basket filled with fruit and stole an apple. Asher continued telling Taryn his woes before sighing. "I wrote a new poem for her," he whispered with an air of insecurity. "I just.. wish she would respond some way, any way really.

He stood and then reached down to grab each basket, “I'll take these home. I.. I'm going to try just her. Maybe that will help?" He looked to his sister and father for some reassurance.

Taryn nodded, “I like that idea.”

“I think she's special.”

“Then she is,” Tamlin answered simply. “Go. I'll take care of Taryn.” Asher nodded, disappearing in the same gate his mother had opened.

Silence fell between the two on the blanket. The air was thick and heavy, a contrast to the brightness of his daughter's garden, to the smile on her face that didn't reach her eyes.

“You may hold me.”

4 words. 4 soft words. Spoken with hesitation, anger, grief, fear.

Yet they opened a floodgate as a father pulled his daughter to him, the process beginning again as the sunset behind them.

Tamlin knew his goal as he took him the scent of strawberries lingering in her blonde hair.

Board by board. Brick by brick. Nail by nail. He was going to rebuild his family. Even if doing so hurt him in the process.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects @sleepybesson @tayswhp @itsswritten @milswrites @littlest-w01f

And my fellow Tamlin girlies:

@nocasdatsgay @pit-and-the-pen

#elizabeths.updates #send asks #acotar #acotar x oc #tamlin acotar #tamlin x rhysands sister #tamlin x oc #high lord tamlin #high lord of spring #tamlin #tamlin x Rhysand's sister oc

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