#last time i seen him it was in corpse bride

[zxxmbied]

idek i feel like those 3 dudes that like enid and wednesday just like spawned out of nowhere

#send help #wenclair #wednesday x enid #netflix wednesday #like she’s just #gay #yk??? #and it was just for enid and wednesday to be straight too #like tim burton get ur game back on pls??? #last time i seen him it was in corpse bride #wenclair hug #that was too much #for my heart to process #tim burton #wednesday is gae #gae people #i love gay ppl <3 #am a girl kisser ^^

[darlingofsatoru]

DRESS UP DARLIN’

⊹ synopsis: Various Jjk characters & how they’d react to you in certain halloween outfits.

⊹warnings: Implied fem!reader, very short drabbles, Reader uses makeup+ wears dresses in most, potentially ooc characters.

SATORU GOJO- ANGEL

Satoru can’t help but pause as you step out your room, eyes darting all over you shamelessly as you rummage through your handbag.

There’s only a few words that he can even think to describe you in that moment: Pretty, gorgeous, ethereal even..

“… I agr.. ee .. so I s— Satoru??” Your voice awakens him out of his thoughts, suddenly right in front of him.

He’s not even sure how that got past his senses but he lets out a content sigh, adjusting the collar on his outfit before beginning to admire your outfit once more.

An all white dress, no straps and a feather-like look to it along with matching wings

So this is why you told him to dress as a devil, matching outfits..

“…Huh, even prettier up close. I better keep you near today, huh, don’t want anyone stealing you!” He grins playfully, gently tugging you towards his embrace.

Halloween has always been fun but he’s sure it’ll be 10x better with you here.

RYOMEN SUKUNA- DEAD/CORPSE BRIDE

Truthfully, Sukuna has no interest in halloween.

It’s a silly tradition and he barely bothered to dress up, the only reason he did a little bit being you.

By barely bothered, he simply means that he’s wearing a light change of outfit that could probably be considered creepy (as if Sukuna himself isn’t scary enough) if you looked at it long enough.

Thinking of you, he groans as he gets up from his feet and goes to open his mouth to speak, stopping when he noticed you come into the room excitedly.

A white dress stained with fake blood (that doesn’t really look accurate to Sukuna, but he can appreciate the effect a bit, he supposes), not too long but also not too short for a wedding dress, paired with a classic veil covering your lipstick covered lips.

“Not half as bad as the deranged outfits most wear, I might even like yours, dare I say.” He smirks, enjoying the lift of spirit in your face from his words alone.

Maybe he doesn’t detest Halloween entirely..

YUJI ITADORI- WITCH

Yuji smiles widely, adjusting his top-hat excitedly.

He feels like Halloween was ages ago so the prospect of dressing up, especially with you, is great and has definitely put him into a good mood for the last week or so.

He actually wasn’t sure if a magician was scary but you’d suggested it could be, saying he could pull out weapons on unsuspecting bystanders (which, in his opinion, did sound pretty creepy).

“Hey, you okay in there?” He yells to you, rummaging the cupboard for the trick or treat buckets.

“Yeah, I’ll be out in a minute!” You shout back, taking a few moments before you emerge with a broomstick in hand.

Yuji blinks for a few minutes once he catches sight of you but quickly smiles wider, waving enthusiastically.

He’s seen plenty witch costumes in his life but they don’t seem to compare with yours, the lovely black and purple dress having a matching hat and broomstick to come with it.

“Woah, a witch? That’s cool, the dark purple really suits you, you know?!” He immediately starts, gaining an appreciative smile from you.

He finds himself paying more attention to your smile, the pretty shade of purple once more showing but on your lips this time.

“Oh yeah, ah, I forgot to ask about the trick or treat buckets.. Where are they again?”

NOBARA KUGISAKI- NURSE

Nobara leans forward in the mirror, enjoying putting a bit more makeup than usual.

It’s not that she couldn’t but more that there’s no reason. What’s the point of being dolled up every day anyway, it’ll just ruin the fun of it!

So she works gently on her eyeliner, making sure not to smudge it whilst her mind wanders to what you’re doing..

Probably getting ready like she is or on your way here, likely the latter since Nobara happened to be a tiny bit later in getting ready today.

The doorbell goes before she gets to dwell on it, making a classic ‘ding-dong’ sound.

“One second, I’ll be right there!” She yells down the hall, quickly getting to the door and opening it.

It reveals just who she expected, you in a rather pretty nurse costume.

“I’ll grab my bag and we can get going!”

This Halloween is definitely gonna be the best, Nobara thinks.

CHOSO KAMO- VAMPIRE

Choso crosses his arms, embarrassment itching on his face at dressing up in general.

Being half-curse meant he didn’t do these things much if not at all, getting into a skeleton jumpsuit-like outfit.

“You still sulking?” Your voice echoes the hall immediately, his face picking quickly.

You’ve always known how to calm him, even unintentionally..

“It’s just a bit itchy, I’m not sulking.” He replies, pulling at the sleeves.

You nod in understanding, meeting his gaze as he finally looks up.

“…Ah.” He murmurs, eyes trying to be discreet as he studies your outfit.

A classic vampire suit, coloured black and red with a large collar.

“Do you think it’s alright? It took ages to find an eyeshadow to match the shade of red.” You sigh, gesturing to your eyes.

Choso nods, embarrassment seeping onto him as he notices he has a small blush engulfing his cheeks now.

“I think it’s more than alright,” He says, pushing the skeleton hood up.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO- BLACK CAT

Megumi sighs, growing bored of the high volume of noise rather easily.

He’d been dragged to this party by Nobara and Yuji to have some fun but it was anything but so far, having only felt bored the whole night.

Plus there was the fact you were apparently going to show up, likely dressed up like most people at this unpleasant party are.

“Megumi, hey!! You look pretty gloomy, you know?” A familiar voice awakens him out of his thoughts, revealing itself to be you immediately.

“I almost thought you weren’t coming.. Not that I blame you, it stinks like alcohol and sweat in here.” Megumi breathes out, taking a quick glance at you before avoiding your gaze and outfit entirely, cheeks too likely to heat up in front of you if he looked straight at you.

You chuckle and shrug, “I sort of expected something different but it’s not too bad, might loose my cat ears here though.”

He nods, he wouldn’t be surprised if anyone lost something in here, there’s people all over the place.

“So.. Wanna step outside? It’s pretty warm, you look like you’re melting.” You suggest, gaining a nod of approval from Megumi.

Maybe it isn’t so bad, at this overcrowded party, he’ll need to make sure to keep an eye out for your cat eats though..

A/n: First work, hope it’s not too boring!! Might not post for a bit after this but I do have a few drafts :D

#darlingofsatoru🩰 #first post #jjk x reader #jjk x you #satoru gojo x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #yuji itadori x reader #nobara kugisaki x reader #choso kamo x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk hcs #jjk drabbles #jjk halloween #halloween fic #guess who i favour.

[geraldthellama]

Bowuigi Corpse Bride AU Lore Post

So I said I would probably make this and while I thought about making this into a fanfic and making ya'll read that, I decided that I need to commit to the other three (two and a half?) Mario fanfic ideas I have. So if anyone wants to make a full blown fic or whatever with this AU, feel free (but tag me ofc because I've got to see it).

(This will not be short, just a quick warning that this is a commitment).

This AU is very loosely based off the actual movie. Instead of them being in the underworld, they're just in a haunted house that Boo lost to Bowser in a game of poker, and instead of being a corpse (as the name suggests), Luigi is just a slightly annoying boo. Him and Polterpup are the only ones that inhabit the mansion, and, with the house completely abandoned, it's probably going to stay that way.

In this world, ghosts only stay after some massive traumatic death. Problem is, Luigi has no recollection of how he died, he just knows he hit his head and a little while later awoke, a ghost that's unable to be seen, heard, and is completely alone as a newly-deceased. Aside from the yipping ghost dog at his feet (Luigi has always been afraid of both ghosts and dogs).

As a ghost, Luigi originally spawns (spawns?) into this world with little ghostly abilities. Living beings can't see or hear him and he doesn't have the power to manipulate objects or people in any way. He is essentially a specter, watching the lives of other people for years until, eventually, it's abandoned, and the Peasley family mansion (one of many, that is) is gambled away to King Boo.

But, King Boos already got his own slew of creepy haunted mansions, and, frankly, this one is haunted by a ghost he can't stand. A ghost that hasn't been able to speak to someone for around a decade. A chatty ghost that hasn't been able to speak to someone for over a decade. He's not exactly torn up about parting with it.

Bowser, the poor thing, is on attempt...

Attempt... 2 hundred... something.

(at least 4 proposals a year, for around 20 years... that's...)

Let's just say, Peach does and has not wanted Bowser for a long ass time, and it really doesn't help his self esteem that he's still being thwarted by a plumber that's old enough to be his dad and uses a cane. He really can't understand what Peach sees in him, especially considering she still looks like a youthful 20/30-something into her 60s. Frankly, it's unfair. He's got money, kids (some really awesome ones too), power, looks (he thinks so at least), and isn't 3 pudding cups away from dementia.

What he hasn't got, until right now at least, is an awesome mansion, specially built for human(oid) creatures. Maybe she just didn't like gothic castle architecture? Maybe, as Boo suggests, he just has to get her scared enough to fall into his arms for safety. He's got this all planned out.

Boo did not specify that the "ghostly inhabitants" of this mansion were a hyperactive ghost dog and naive plumber. He didn't think it was important information at the time.

So, when Bowser is plotting and practice-proposes (does he really need more practice?) to the striking blue eyes of a, surprisingly, human painting, the last thing he expects is to be met with a ghoulish grin.

Barely ghoulish, because, god, the thing is bright. The smile and the bio-(bio?)-luminescent energy it's attached to. For a ghost who's wearing bloodied bandages and has been dead for 30 lonely years, he's surprisingly optimistic.

"Really?! And you're not even a boo!" :D

He's very optimistic, in fact, because he's willing to believe that this complete stranger might just be his ticket out of this wall-papered purgatory. He died meeting up with his forbidden love, after all, so it must be a sign. He does not hesitate to shove that ring on his finger, even if his new fiance looks hesitant (he might be naive enough to go with it, but he's not blind). He's convinced the two will make it work.

Luigi is... very tired of looking at the same things everyday. Now, he can attach to his new fiance, who's only slightly hesitant to engage with him, (and is not bad looking at all, in Luigi's opinion). Together, the two can actually have a life together. Luigi was only 25 when he died, and he was far too shy then to do any adventuring. The most rebellious thing the man had ever done was sneak out.

Man, look where that ended him.

For Luigi, this is his opportunity to live the life he wasted was robbed of.

And the guys got kids! How awesome is that?

Bowser is not liking the new pets at his side. One never stops yipping and yapping and one is a dog. Luigi is... fine. From a distance. The problem is that they physically can't get any. As long as Luigi is attached to him, consider them hand cuffed. This stupid, green boo is crimping his style, and any game he had with Peach is virtually ruined when he's got his "fiance" clinging to his side like he's the best thing since breathing air.

At least Luigi appreciates his kids. The ghost obviously has some taste (of course he does, he chose him for pete's sake), and Junior and the rest seem to like the ghoul enough... Even if Junior isn't completely sure that Luigi is a ghoul. Both Luigi and Junior agree that boos are scary.

Maybe, after some hard self-reflection (with Luigi close and present, of course), and some growing emotional intimacy and openness, Bowser begins to kind of, perhaps tolerate Luigi. Just a little. Just enough to find his stupid quirks endearing and just enough to start to think that maybe he's always been too good for Peach, anyway. Maybe he should be with someone who appreciates him and loves his family. It's not like her and Mario had ever had kids in their relationship, and her not wanting kids is kind of a deal breaker.

Bowser's newfound attention on Luigi is driving everyone else nuts, though. Boos barely seen the man since his unfortunate run in with the green leach and no one else at their poker table is any good. At this rate, Boos not even satisfied winning Peasley's riches off him anymore. Occasionally, a guy just wants to lose, y'know? Boo hates only one thing more than Peasley whining about the consequences of his gambling addiction, and that's boredom. He misses when the Koopa King spent all his time plotting against the old-ass plumber. At least then he showed his face at their meetings.

And when Boo finally brings up his grievances, because he deserves to rant, Peasley seems... nervous. Boo loves nervousness.

"There's a... human boo... in the mansion I gave you..?"

"One, you didn't give it to me, you lost, fair and square. Two, yeah, and he's just about the chattiest thing I've ever met. All dressed up in a white suit, the pretentious-"

At that, Peasley turns about as pale as a ghost. Well, if that were possible, considering he's a legume. Suddenly, he's got some important things he has to do somewhere else.

This poker table is looking weak.

When Peasley asks Bowser to meet at the mansion, Bowser warns he can't come alone. It's a stretch to get the green ghost to go back with him, and as much as Bowser wants to tell him "you're coming with me, whether you like it or not", he can't bring himself to say it. Instead, he convinces Luigi that it's a quick stay. Essentially, a welfare visit on the old house and a quick meeting with an old friend. Luigi's narrowly convinced.

Stepping back onto that porch brings back a lot of old memories for the human. Few of them anything good in retrospect.

But he does want to see his painting again. He always did cherish that painting. He's sure Bowser will too, right?

Is that painting a good memory for Bowser? He wonders.

It was all those years ago that a young Peasley gifted him that painting. Like him, he had been optimistic and in love. Even if his rich, snobby parents weren't a fan of the human, they had an entire life ahead of them. Peasley had made him a beautiful painting. It was the one part of the house Luigi felt was his. A good memory.

He never expected to be greeted by the same image he had all those years ago. Peasley, now older, stood in front of the painting. His face now wasn't proud or love-struck or whatever expression he had had then (Luigi can barely remember Peasley's face until just now), he looked somber. It was a rare occasion that Luigi wasn't green, and his teal glow seemed to throw Bowser off.

And divert Peasley's attention away from the miserable painting and over to the ghost, who was nervously twiddling his thumbs with a sympathetic look in his eyes.

It's not long before Bowser realizes that this meeting was never about him, and he feels more awkward than anything else...

Except that Polterpup has been on edge since the moment he saw the bean (now) king. Has he ever seen the dog not wag it's tail at someone?

Immediately, the older man apologizes. Things were never meant to end up how they did. He tried his best to help when he could.

Luigi's not angry, how could he be? Luigi's fall was an accident.

Peasley says he didn't know Luigi had stuck around, and if he had, he thinks he would have done things differently. He would have at least had the place cleaned instead of just letting it rot.

(So Peasley abandon the mansion? The perfectly good mansion for no reason, leaving Luigi alone.)

And, of course, Peasley's sorry for not telling Mario or his parents about what happened to him.

(HUH?)

He insisted that he waited for hours with Luigi, hoping he'd recover with enough gauze. The man told him it was a lost cause. If he could have saved him, he would have.

Hours?

"I was unconscious for hours?"

It came out as barely a whisper.

"I stayed almost the entire night. As long as I could."

Bowser didn't know boos could turn so many colors, especially that quickly. Bowser didn't think Luigi even had it in him to be anything less than smiley, especially completely enraged.

Luigi had never been more angry in his life (death).

Even Peasley's insistence that "You don't understand what they'd have done to me if they'd known I went against their wishes!" fell on deaf ears.

When Luigi's aura finally finished raving, Peasley had backed away from the now red ghost. Again, Luigi recognized the position they were in;

One of them backing up, away from the painting and towards the basement stairs. How could Peasley forget that door never closed all the way? It had only been the exact thing that killed Luigi 30 years ago. The exact thing that, of course, Peasley hadn't fixed.

Luigi swears he didn't push him, even in that state. Bowser believes him, only because the still angry and unaware Luigi yelled angrily down the stairs: "You better not die here, because I'll make your death hell!"

If they both hadn't just watched Peasley fucking die, Bowser would have kinda been into it.

It took Luigi a second to realize that even if his own fall had been an unlucky hit, Peasley wasn't 25 anymore. And he wasn't responding. His red hue didn't last long, especially when Polterpup no longer seems threatened (and Bowser notices that the bean king no longer seems to be breathing).

"What did I do?"

Bowser suggests fleeing the crime scene, which normally isn't his move, but he'd rather not be tied to the murder of a fellow royal. Luigi shakes his head.

This is his fault. And as angry as he still is at Peasley, he can't flee what he's done. Not in a right conscience. Not like what Peasley did to him. Luigi suffered enough sitting in that mansion alone for 30 years, and, as much as revenge tastes sweet, a small part of him still cares. Had he lived, Peasley and him would have had a life after all.

But he hadn't lived, did he.

Bowser can't remember a time ever seeing Luigi's color look quite as dull as it did then.

Playing with his engagement ring, Luigi thinks back on the part of the man he loved. Peasley never did buy him the ring, like he had hoped. Luigi remembers getting himself all excited over the possibility of a scenic proposal as they walked through the flower garden of the mansion. He had gifted him a painting. Which was almost as good.

He couldn't even count how many times he had stood and looked at that painting, thinking:

Was it worth it?

An apprehensive smile comes onto his face. A nostalgic smile. A somber one.

Doesn't really matter, does it? He'd never know if it was worth it in the end. This was how it ended up. Luigi had always believed that fate is what had brought him and Peasley together, considering everything else had lined them up for failure. Fate was what brought him here. What kept him here.

Who is he to drag down others?

He returns Bowser's ring.

"I'm sorry."

Bowser never deserved to have him weigh him down.

"I wasted my life chasing after a family I never got, and then spent my death doing the exact same thing."

Bowser awkwardly matches Luigi's bitter laugh.

"I lived my life, be it a short one, but you deserve to live yours."

Luigi pats the ring on his hand.

"I hope she likes it." He smiles. He means it. Peach sounds wonderful.

Tears prick Bowser's eyes, and all because...

He never did tell Luigi about him and Peach, did he? He can't help but laugh. Tears streaming down his face kinda laugh. The laugh you only get once a year kind of laugh.

"You spent, what? Maybe five non-consecutive years chasing after a family? Try twenty!"

Luigi's eyebrow goes up. This is supposed to be a super emotional goodbye and this goobers laughing? On about his conquest to marry Peach (who, apparently, is already married) and make his picturesque life. Luigi can't help but laugh, because it's so stupid that Bowser's laughing about this right now.

"Her and her stupid, human, mustachioed husband Mario have been kicking my ass for decades. I promise you, boo, you weren't ever getting in the way of anything."

Mario?!

"Mario?" (!)

"You heard of him?"

The excitement in Luigi's eyes (and aura) is obvious.

"My brother's name is Mario!"

With a look of determination, Bowser promises he'll tell Luigi the story of all his and Mario's exploits if he does him two favors.

Leaves this, frankly, ugly and decrepit mansion with him. Because this story needs atmosphere.

Puts the ring back on his finger. Because how else is everybody going to know they're engaged?

Luigi gives a grin.

He looks down the stairs. What about doing his due-diligence?

"I promise you, boo, if fate brought you and Peasley together, and pushed you down those stairs, and brought us together, and then pushed him down the stairs, fate is on your side."

Luigi's lips are still pursed.

"And it's almost sunrise," Bowser points out.

"So?"

"Well, we've waited almost all night, seems like a fair amount of time to me. It's obviously a lost cause."

At that, Luigi begins laughing. Not quite Bowser's guttural, teary laugh, but certainly a cackle. Enough to turn his aura back to a vibrant green, just like before. Enough to make him hunch over and take some (not really) much needed gulps of air.

When the laughing dies down to a hurt giggle, Bowser assures him that:

"You didn't kill him, Weeg."

No. I guess he didn't, did he?

Looking down the stairs one last time, (his death completely bloodless, the lucky bastard), Luigi's brows furrow for a second and he twiddles his thumbs.

If Luigi's learned one thing from being a condemned ghost, it's that you should take every chance you get.

The bottom of the stairs don't look so intimidating now.

"I...

I forgive you."

Maybe that is all Peasley deserves.

Luigi deserves to have another chance. And maybe Peasley does too, maybe he'll find one in the next lucky winner of poker. Someones gotta replace his spot at the table.

Bowser shares that he certainly deserves a mother to his children, and he's already got a quality candidate who's proved he's got what it takes. ("One who cooks, cleans, can't call in sick, die, and is pretty good looking! I hit the jackpot!")

Maybe, at the very least, Luigi deserves to see his brother one last time.

And maybe a few more times after that, for good measure.

Anyways so the original plan was just to have either Luigi and Bowser straight up immediately abandon the crime scene (not really crime scene) or have Luigi sit in the mansion forever and live out a miserable existence.

But I couldn't do that to my boys now could I. (But Peasley still gets abandoned because screw Peasley I hate that little bean man /j).

This wasn't meant to turn out in the format it did but, y'know, it did. Just know this isn't brief but also isn't comprehensive. I might (big emphasis on might) make a shorter headcanon post on this, but we'll see.

I hope you enjoyed. And sorry for the length, I am not known and will never be known for being concise.

#luigi #luigi mario #mario and luigi #prince peasley #king boo #bowser #bowuigi #boo luigi #mario au #corpse bride au #I'm ngl writing this took me multiple hours #but I said I'd do it #for my fans #(they aren't real I'm just delusional and tired)

[clarabowmp3]

here's what I love about loml: the melody and lyrics fit together so well that nothing sounds clunky, but she's still not compromising on artistic value. in fact, i'd say the shorter lyrics enhance the quality as its just sucker punch after sucker punch. the cadence of most of the song (as per the line fragments) sounds like someone taking short breaths, as if debilitatingly encumbered by emotion. or, if we take it further in the context of the funeral motif, like someone taking their last breaths.

there is this 'duality' (opposites) to the song in sooo many ways: first in the lyrics (never before/never since, one kiss/getting married, alive/cemetery, low-down boy/stand-up guy, all time/momentary, "I'll never leave"/"never mind") then in the first chorus she paints a picture of a wedding but its almost unnervingly unclear because of all the funeral diction (cemetery, killing time, (holy) ghost). as the song shifts from 'love' to 'loss,' the wedding image gets juxtaposed by one of a funeral, and YET there are parts where the two blur together (suit and tie, at some point that glow starts to feel like a hole) -> which I feel so perfectly represents the tension in that relationship where there is such a fine line separating the two harsh extremes.

even as the duality starts to dissolve past the first chorus (more emphasis on the 'loss' --> con man, get-love-quick scheme (scam), hole), the tender melody and pleasingly smooth vocals remain which creates this unsettling effect since that quiet peace has been flipped on its head to be turned into this quiet devastation. taking it one step further, the fact that this song is phrased to be written completely in hindsight (past tense throughout) it makes the quiet unassuming joy the speaker gets from their fictional wedding feel even more tragic.

by the time we get to the second chorus there is minimal ambiguity in her tone, it is 100% fully one of mourning and bordering on anger (as seen in the bridge). even in her contemptuous 'Mr. Steal Your Girl,' she follows it up with how hurt she feels over him calling her the love of his life as if she can't even be properly/fully angry at this person. in fact, that line is at the end of the chorus, almost symbolising how she can feel as angry as she wants at him, but despite all that there's this underlying grief and despair over his inability to follow through with his love-of-his-life promises. as the message gets clearer, the message/feeling of the song hits harder as there is less confusion or ambiguity.

in the bridge, there's this fantastical image of 'dancing phantoms' which reignites that confusion in the song with the added instability from the sinister image of the phantoms, plus the cadence of the song increases, she's talking faster now and there's less 'empty room,' indicating more pointed/stronger emotion. with the song's tone of this bone-deep grief, the 'terrace' might be a very very subtle nod to suicidal ideation, emphasis on the might. throughout the song she rattles btw love and loss, so this sudden suggestion that it was 'counterfeit' casts doubt on the validity of her emotions in the first place.

here we also start to move past from the duality as indicated by the three tiers of legendary -> momentary -> unnecessary, as if she is washing her hands of the whole affair ('should've let it STAY BURIED'). this lyric also indicates her moving past the duality as letting something stay buried implies that it has already been buried, ie its 'funeral' has passed, and the funeral motif was used as part of the duality representation from earlier.

anyways all this to say for most of the reasons above ^^ this song also gives me STRONG corpse bride vibes of which i made an edit here if anyone's interested :)

#this has been a loml appreciation postTM #this analysis is my baby i'll be pinning it for a while #loml #taylor swift #ttpd #the tortured poets department #lyric analysis

[ala2ilas-s]

Mason mount 🍒

With a bit of Joao Felix in it

———————————————————————

“Soo umm..”

“Yes he’ll be there.” Sophie didn’t even let me finish already knowing what I was gonna ask or rather who I was gonna ask about but my ego refused to take the hit.

“What you don’t even know who I was gonna talk about..” I tried to play it off but the way I stuttered and my cheeks heated up wasn’t helping my case. At all.

“Girl.. please.” She rolled her eyes and I just scoffed leaning back against my chair.

“Soap” Kai’s voice came from the front door followed by quick footsteps.

“Kitchen” Sophia replied with a small smile on her face and I held back from teasing how smitten she was.

“Hello ladies” came in Kai a few seconds later his face lighting up when he saw her.

“I brought a guest with me” he said giving Soap a quick kiss on her cheek before smirking at me.

Oh I do not like this.

“Who?” I asked him carefully already having a few guesses but not liking either.

“Oh you know just your favourite boy” he said not even trying to hide his smirk and shrugging innocently but that didn’t stop me from jumping on my feet “Oh hell you didn’t I’m literally in pyjamas I’m not ready to see hi— HI MASON” just as I was about to flee the kitchen a certain chocolate haired boy walked in.

Brown eyes immediately found mine and the way they sparkled caused butterflies to go crazy in my stomach and I quite literally walked backwards to where I was seating a minute ago melting into Sophia’s side extremely embarrassed, excited also trying to hide my pjs behind the table.

Soap patted my back shaking her head while she looked at Kai with amused eyes muttering something in German.

“H-hi” Mason mumbled in a shy voice his cheeks flushed.

How can he be this pretty?

“You forgot this in the car” Mason cleared his throat breaking eye contact with me to look at Kai. It was just then that I realised he had flowers in his hands.

“Oh yes sorry these are for you love” kai said giving Sophia the flowers and I was admiring the way they were looking at each other that I missed the blue roses in Mason’s hand.

“And um I got this for you” Mason said in a shy voice.

“Really?” That was not the best thing I could reply with which was probably why I could hear Kai and Sophia giggling behind me but I was too busy admiring the amused smile that crawled on mason’s face to care.

“Yeah I remember you said blue roses were your favourite the last time we watched corpse bride together and we saw these outside the flower shop. I couldn’t help my self.” He said scratching the back of his neck.

My heart did a backflip.

Also I don’t think I’ve seen him this red before.

I didn’t waste another second to jump in his arms hugging him tightly and he held me just as tight “thank you mase.” I mumbled and felt him nod gently squeezing my side.

“They have glitters on them.” He blurted out causing me to giggle and I finally got to have a good look at the flowers which indeed had cute glitters.

“They’re perfect. I love them Mason. Thank you again.” I gave him a big smile and with a slight skip in my steps I looked for a vase.

“How have you been Mase?” Sophia asked and Mason pulled out a chair across from us to seat but kai was quick to seat down on the chair Mason had just pulled leaving him with no choice but to seat next to me.

“Thanks mate” Kai said and I shook my head at him.

Real smooth.

With a confused frown on his face, Mason sat down. I could feel how close he was and the empty cup in my hand wasn’t helping much to hide my red cheeks anymore.

Conversion flew easily between the four of us and eventually my legs ended up on soap’s laps while she was leaned against Kai and mase’s chair was pulled much closer to me than the start of the afternoon his arm at the back of my chair.

Every time that I looked at him I’d find his eyes already on me neither of us able to hide our smiles.

“Well gentlemen as lovely as it’s been chatting with you we need to get ready for tonight.” Sophia said taking my hand.

“Oh it’s time for the best part of going out. Getting ready” soap sang dragging me up the stairs.

“Thats the best part? What about getting shit faced?” I said smirking.

“Okay maybe second best.”

I lost the count somewhere between fifth and ninth shots.

At least I achieved one of the goals of the night.

Getting shit faced.

Everything went to shit the moment I saw Joao at Chris’s house where we were having our weekly get togethers.

I was laid back on my little blanket just a few feet away from the lake I had found a while back enjoying the peace. This place has been my secret spot.. well until a ball rolled next to my foot followed by a boy apologising. He froze up when he noticed it’s me. I’ve seen him around a couple of times since we’ve moved here but never had the chance to introduce myself properly.

“Hi.” I said feeling shy under his eyes and he mumbled back a quiet hi waving awkwardly which caused me to smile. He was cute.

He grabbed his ball and opened to his mouth to say something but seemed to decide against it mumbling an even quieter see you around. In a moment of panic I blurted out “do you wanna join me for a bit?” Cursing myself for being so awkward.

His eyes sparked and I saw his real smile for the first time as he settled next to me with a good distance between us.

“Would you like a lollipop?” I giggled showing him my backpack full of lollipops and a beautiful laugh escaped his lips.

“They’re all cherry.”

A year later and I was holding back tears as Joao’s hands were cupping my cheeks looking at me with glossy eyes.

“I’m so proud of you amor.” He said kissing my forehead lingering a minute longer.

“Go live the life you’ve always dreamed of okay?” He whispered and I whipped a tear that managed to escaped his eye. Not trusting my own voice I just nodded trying to memorise every detail in his beautiful face.

“I love you.” I choked out and he smiled sadly at me hugging me tightly for the last time.

“te amo” he said kissing my neck.

It’s been years since I last saw Joao. Years since I left Portugal after living there for almost two years. while I held every memories close to my heart I had long moved on from Joao yet it came as a shock to see him at one of my closest friend’s house.

So I chose the not-exactly-smart-but-easy way of dealing with having my first love and the boy I really liked in the same room and got drunk.

Sophia knew the whole story which was a real help cause I could not deal with this on my own.

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Soap said taking a sip from her drink and I shook my head.

“It’s just weird seeing him and Mason together it’s like seeing my past and future at the same time. What I could have had and what I can have if I just find the courage to tell Mason how I feel” I drowned my drink rubbing my temples.

“Tell him.” Soap slurred filling up the cup in my hand. “There you go. Here’s the courage. Cheers.” She said proud of herself and I couldn’t help but giggle with her.

Our laughter seemed to gained some attention towards us.

“Please don’t throw up on my carpet.”

“Woah where did you come from?” Soap said looking at Christian who was in return looking at us like a disapproving father.

“To our lovely host.” I said lifting my cup and Chris’s eyes widened before he took the cups away from our hands.

“He’ey I was gonna drink to you mate.” I pouted and I’m pretty sure soap cursed at him in German but my drunk mind couldn’t focus on both of them. I could still tell that Christian was struggling to keep up his responsible facade tho, barely holding in his laughter. Glad we could be of entertainment.

“And I thank you for it.. mase.” My ears perked when Christian called out for him.

“Ah why don’t we give these two some room.” Sophia suddenly chipped in dragging Christian away and giving me not so subtle thumbs up.

“You having a good time love?” I heard his smooth voice and for a moment forgot about everything else, with my eyes closed I leaned my head against his chest and hummed contently.

“Do you want some fresh air?” He said softly brushing my hair.

“Yes please.” I mumbled in his chest.

Just as we were about to step into the garden my eyes caught Joao’s and I came to halt. I couldn’t read what he was feeling not anymore but the soft smile he gave me eased me a bit.

“You okay love?” Mason’s voice snapped me out of my haze and after about twenty minutes of seating on Christian’s pool seats making fun of his ridiculous Snow White dwarfs figures with Mason I sobered up a bit.

“Do you want me to get you a bottle of water?” He asked softly and I nodded mumbling a quiet please.

“You look well.”

“London’s been treating me well” I smiled at Joao standing a few feet away.

“I’m glad.” He said looking at the seat next to me, asking for permission silently to which I nodded.

“So what you doing here?” I asked him seating up straight to look at him.

“I live here now.” He said and I gasped. Blame it on the alcohol that I couldn’t mask my reactions.

He laughed shaking his head “no way Joao! How you liking it?” I asked crossing my legs my attention fully on him.

“Actually I love it. I can see why you’ve always wanted to live here.” He gave me a smile and I couldn’t tell if it was my imaginations but I swear I saw sadness behind his eyes.

“You look different.” I blurted out my eyes widening “I mean in a good way.” I quickly added.

“you too” He said softly looking away “in a good way.”

“I’m sorry we lost contact.” I whispered after a few minutes of silent and I heard him sighing.

“Me too, cherry.” He said and the old nickname made my throat close up slightly.

“I haven’t known him for long but I have a feeling he’s not bad.” He said and I looked up at him confused my eyes following his to where Mason was standing two bottle of water in his hands as he handed one to soap.

“Yeah he is not bad.” I said smiling.

“I’m happy for you and um I’ll be more than happy if you let me be a part of your life again.”he said.

The background scenery was giving me deja vu to the first time I met him even the pool seats had the same red and white stripes as the blanket I had that night at the lake.. but we were different people nothing about us was the same.

It was a fresh start.

I got up and hugged him. “Of course Joao. Of course.”

“Am I interrupting?” Mason asked in a small voice and I slowly let go of Joao.

“No mate.” Joao replied turning back to me. “I’ll see you around cherry.” And I nodded.

Mason slowly walked up to me with a cute confused frown on his face and I couldn’t stop myself from caressing the frown which caused him to relax immediately. My eyes traced every feature in his beautiful face. Butterflies going crazy in my stomach as he brought my palm to his lips and placed the softest kiss in the centre all while looking at me with so much adoration in his eyes.

That was enough courage for me.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning tell to you mase.”

———————————————————————let me know what you think about this one also if you’d like to be tagged in future posts :)

#mason mount #joao felix #kai havertz #christian pulisic #chelsea fc #mason mount x reader #mason mount imagine #mason mount imagines #mason mount one shot #joao felix x reader #joao felix imagine #joao felix imagines #joao felix one shot #football

[wintervalewritersecond]

tears to shed iv - simon 'ghost' riley

masterlist // masterlist call of duty

requested: no, but requests are OPEN! request: x

A/N: last part! hope this makes up for the sad ending last part &lt;3

part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4

wordcount: warnings: ooc simon (like, very ooc), corpse bride au, she/her reader, happy ending

An arranged marriage to unite two worlds. But no one would have expected that it would bring together the living and the dead.

Your parents were much happier to hear that they were up in the social ladder now than that they were to hear that you had come back. Lord and Lady MacTavish also could not care less - as long as they got money, they would be set.

It is not like life with Johnny was bad. Not at all, actually. You had fun with him, and he was someone you feel comfortable with. He is so trustworthy, funny, and nice. It truly could have been so much worse.

The years pass, new people coming to the town, other people leaving. Babies are being born and elderly people are passing away. You aren't scared of death anymore - you have lived in it, you have loved in it.

Marriage to Johnny is like marrying a best friend. Both you and Johnny found out quite early on that you did love each other, yet more like friends or family instead of lovers. Not that you thought the other was ugly, mean, or uninteresting. It was just platonic, but to be quite honest, you did not mind.

You could be on the street, or worse, married to a horrible person. Lucky for you, you are 'stuck' with Johnny. Every single day felt refreshing, always going on trips or eating a delicious dinner. Your mother and father barely came to visit, saying they were much too busy with their new way of life. Lord and Lady MacTavish were also not seen very often, always far away, enjoying the money they now had.

Years seem to fly by.

The older you get, the faster time goes.

Your body is becoming weaker, the people around you have left, and the house feels much too big for only two people. It is winter now, and sickness is going around, a sickness that had also gotten the better of Johnny.

You sat by his side, his body covered with endless blankets, coughs coming from him ever so often.

"You are burning up," you mumble, your hand on his forehead.

He does not respond, only looking at the ceiling before finally turning his head to you. This is the most movement he has gone through this entire week. Johnny stays quiet for a moment, blinking slowly before licking his lips.

"Is the afterlife scary?"

"No," you softly say, taking hold of his hand, "It is fun, free, careless. You will have your own place, and you can have endless drinks at the bar. It is colourful and bright."

He hums, his hand softly squeezing yours as he looks past you.

"I think I would like to go there."

Your breath hitches in your throat, tears burning in your eyes as you look at him, bringing your other hand to his cheek.

"You do?"

Nothing but a hum yet again, his eyes looking past you.

"Y/N?"

"Yes?"

"Will you find me there?"

You nod, pressing a kiss to his hand.

"I will."

"Can you promise me something?"

Your heart feels heavy.

"Anything."

"After you find me... Also find Simon. That one man from years ago," he whispers, coughing, "If it... If it truly is as you said, then please, find him. Live the life you couldn't live now."

"Johnny," a tear falls down your cheek, "You are acting as if my life with you was not good."

"Oh, lass, we had a wonderful life. But the afterlife you describe... It is your second chance. Take it, please."

One last promise you make to him. Through sickness, through health, till death do you part.

"I promise you, Johnny. I love you so."

"And I love you."

After one last breath, one last blink, he leaves you. Leaves you behind as you did that one night, though you know he will not come back. More tears fall down your cheeks as you press a soft kiss to his forehead. Another friend lost.

You then spent months alone. No visitors, no Johnny, no parents.

It was weird.

The world seems so grey, so bleak, so colourless. There is nothing for you here. You eat just to eat, you read just to read. Everything seems meaningless. Another night where you go to sleep in a cold bed.

But this time, when you wake up, you feel different.

Your bones don't hurt, your limbs don't feel heavy, your hair doesn't feel brittle. Instead, you feel lively, weightless, free.

"A new arrival!"

Is the time finally here?

You open your eyes, the lights very bright, and you nearly can not believe what you see. It's the bar, the people, the music, the drinks.

"Wait..."

You quickly turn around, coming eye to eye with Johnny.

"Lass?"

You nod slowly, a smile forming on your face as you fling your arms around him.

"Oh, Johnny!" You pull away from him for a second, your hands on his cheeks, "I can't believe it! Oh, you look so young."

He does not nearly look the same as when you last saw him. His skin isn't wrinkly, his eyes are bright, and he has the same silly haircut.

"Says you," he grins, holding out his cup to you, "You look as mighty as ever."

You look at his cup and back at him. You are actually here. But, if you are... Is Simon here as well? Johnny still has a smile on his face, taking a swig from his beer. He knows what, or rather who, you are looking for.

"Go on," he nods his head to the exit, "We will have eternity to celebrate that you're here. Go, we can talk later."

You press a kiss to his cheek, nodding as you lift up the bottom of your skirt, walking up the stairs that lead to the outside of the bar. You are met with a mirror, right next to the door. You look so much younger, almost as if no time had passed. Dressed in a nightgown, your hair done up, looking youthful as ever. The age when you first got here, gone back in time, just like Johnny.

The roads, the coffins, the lights - all are exactly as you remember them being. You have dreamt of taking this exact walk dozens of times, clenching onto the dogtags that you had yet to take off. Now, you actually walk there, the tags tight in your hand. A left here, straight, and then...

You are so absorbed by your own thoughts that you do not register the person in front of you. You yelp, nearly falling over, but catching yourself by holding onto a crate.

"Oh, sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going!"

"Y/N?"

You look up, you know that voice...

"Price?"

"I can't believe it!" He laughs, pulling you to him to give you a big hug, "You are here! Oh my god, wait until Simon hears about this. You are going to give him a heart attack!"

"Where is he?"

"At home," he backs off, nodding his head into the direction of the house, "Hasn't been out too much. Kept his mask back on, been in a real mood for a while. You know, he never got over you."

He still thinks of you?

"Neither have I," you whisper, looking up at the man.

"Oh, I know," he only shrugs, "Johnny and I have become well acquainted over these months. Sadly haven't been able to really talk to Simon too much, but I think that might change."

The two of you continue your way, only a few doors away from the love of your afterlife. What if he doesn't want to see you? What if you are not like how he expected? Maybe he does not wish for a life with you.

"Don't worry your little head, Y/N," Price whispers, stopping at the door, "I will leave you be. Come by the bar later?"

You nod, sending him a smile as he leaves you alone at the door. What now? Do you knock? You feel nervous, yet you don't feel the pounding of your heart or the sweat in your hands. You are excited, though you can't feel the butterflies in your stomach.

A soft knock on the door.

Was it not hard enough? What if he isn't home? What if he didn't hear? What if he acts like he doesn't hear so he doesn't have to answer-

"Price, I told ya, I don't want to go to the-" the door gets ripped open, revealing the masked man you have thought about each and every day, "pub."

"We don't have to if you don't wish to, Simon."

"Wh... Is that you?"

He grips your cheeks tightly, scared that if he lets go, you will disappear. His eyes scan your face, the rest of his face hidden behind the skull mask he wore when you met him. You nod as much as you can, but the tight grip barely allows for you to move. Within a second, you are in his arms, his arms around you and his head on top of yours. Even if you wanted to, you could never get out of this embrace.

"I can't believe it. You are here."

"I am here," you confirm.

"I have waited each and every day. Price told me your husband came here before you did."

You nod.

"He did. But he made me promise him something."

What did he promise? Should Simon be scared? Are you only here to say hello, only to never see him again?

"He wants me to have a second chance. To life my... afterlife, the way it was intended. With you."

He slowly lets go, looking down at you with big eyes. His tags still around your neck and you looking like an angel. Is this real? Someone, pinch him, though it will not work.

"With me?"

"Johnny and I were friends. Best friends, even," you whisper, holding onto Simon his hands, "He told me to find you, Simon. And, if you will have me, I would want to spend this eternity with you."

That is all that he has ever wanted to hear.

So, he gets down on one knee.

"Death made us part, but now brought us together," he kisses your knuckles, "May I ask you to be my wife, for now until forever?"

One hell of a way to ask you to marry him.

#simon riley imagine #ghost imagine #call of duty imagine #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley #corpse bride! ghost

[whiskey-bumblebee]

trick or treat aaron hotchner pls 🙏

treat! 🍬

A/N: gender neutral reader (Aaron slips up at one point but we correct him), Halloween-decoration-typical horror (just in case). Also the writing in this is super lazy because I am what? Lazy <3 Hope you enjoy! And keep the requests coming!

Aaron loves that you love Halloween, but he can't stand the decorations. He's seen a lot of things in his life, and Spirit Halloween reminds him of the worst of them: dismembered limbs, blood, scary masks, references to weapons and poison, death all around. To him, it's a blessing that you have the stomach for the plastic version. It means he's doing his job, as an agent and a boyfriend. He's not bringing it home. He's keeping you safe from the horrors of the world.

So he gives you a list of boundaries, lovingly handwritten in his neatest print:

please no: -weapons -gore/blood -body parts/bones/tombstones -jumping things -masks -murder/crime scene paraphernalia

You take the list in hand and give him a look. "Honey, I respect this, but are there things you do want? That might be easier."

He considers it for a second. "Bats. Pumpkins. Spiders. Witches. Cats. Vampires. Frankenstein. Cute ghosts."

You smile and give him a kiss because you can't help it. "Cute ghosts."

"You know. Sheet ghosts."

"So you can watch scary movies but you can't have scary decorations?" You're only teasing, and he knows that, but he still pouts a little.

"Michael Myers on the television is different to Michael Myers in the living room."

You nod. "Okay, honey. I'll see what we can do."

So you head to the halloween store and do a little bit of damage with your credit card, and head home to set up. You don't get many trick or treaters, since you live in a small neighborhood, but it's just as fun to decorate for yourself, right?

You decide to go with plenty of fuzzy spiders, a jack o lantern for the porch, and a sheet ghost for the lawn.

Aaron gets home, and you're careful to meet him out in the driveway so you can check for his approval.

"Cute ghost," You point out, after giving him a quick kiss. He nods.

There are some comically large spiders climbing up the outside of the house, and he laughs.

"Sure."

Then the two pumpkins on the porch.

"I thought we'd carve them together another time."

He nods again. You know the lack of reaction is just his way of assessing a situation wholly before he makes an overall judgement.

You walk him through the door, where you've kept things much more minimal. Your home is your shared sanctuary after all, and the last thing you need is to give him a heart attack in the middle of the night.

The front door reads "Haus Frankenstein", with the silhouette of a castle underneath. In the kitchen, you've suspended a sign reading "it's electrifying!" with a picture of Frankenstein's monster in the lightning trap.

"I know this is kind of verging into corpse territory, but I thought it was cute, if you don't like it-"

Aaron shakes his head quickly. "No, it's cute. Thank you."

The guest bathroom has sticky green gels over the tile.

"Ectoplasm," You smile, and Hotch falls even more in love with you.

"Everything is temporary, it's peel and stick. If you don't like anything, I kept the receipts, so we can return it-"

"Everything is perfect, honey. Is that it?"

You nod. "That's it."

His face falls a little, although he's quick to shield it.

"What?" You ask quickly. "Do you want something else?"

"I was hoping you'd pick the costumes, I'm no good with that s-"

You beam. "I did. They're in the bedroom."

Aaron smiles at that. "You think of everything. I love you."

You lead him to the bedroom, and you're delighted to walk him through the costumes, a mixture of thrifted items, costume pieces, makeup, and a wig for you.

"Frankenstein and the Bride of Frankenstein?"

"Partner of Frankenstein," You correct him. "I thought since I kind of themed the house as the Haus Frankenstein, we could be the Frankensteins. And I was talking to my friend about it and we thought you looked kind of like Boris Karloff."

Aaron raises an eyebrow.

"In a good way!" You interject. "I think he's sexy."

He grins and pulls you in by the waist. "Good."

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner/reader #hotch x reader #hotch/reader #fanfic #fanfiction #WBHP 2023 #halloween #criminal minds #my writing #hotch

[pandoramybeloved]

things i’ve noticed while watching corpse bride because i’ve seen this movie unholy amount of times

part 9

another funny moment ft. william van dort, who actually seems like the best parent out of four of them:

in the movie the reason behind emily’s and victor’s marriage being invalid is that death has already parted them apart. however, in the script the reason is different:

also, in the script, following mayhew’s death, victor’s parents have an accident:

AND WE’VE HAD EMILY MEETING VICTOR’S PARENTS:

i love how william is just going with it without a second thought. AND here we are finally getting to know emily’s last name:

as the final scene approaches, we have another plot twist coming:

here we also have a different version of how emily found out that barkis killed her, they weren’t lovers, she didn’t randomly remember him.

victoria is such a girlboss.

in this version barkis doesn’t die, instead he’s taken by the police. i actually like the movie version, where he gets a taste of his own actions and drinks the poison.

the ending is also a lot more different than it is in the movie, emily is more quiet, she goes alone, finally at peace.

my reaction to that:

#corpse bride #emily merrimack #emily corpse bride #victor van dort #victoria everglot #victoria van dort #nell van dort #william van dort #finis everglot #maudeline everglot #tim burton #tim burton's corpse bride #johnny depp #helena bonham carter

[raainy-daze]

Halloween Movies

halloween special !

2012 leo x gn!reader

summary: it’s time for your usual stay-at-home movie date with leo. of course, during october, you’ve gotta watch some halloween movies.

word count: 1297

a/n: holy crap. i did not expect 2012 leo to be this hard to write. i honest to god kind of hate this, but if i spent any longer on it, i was probably going to scream/loose my mind. happy halloween!

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Ah, October, the month of spooks and scares. There’s a chill in the air, and festivities have begun.

Night had fallen just a little bit ago, and you were in your apartment, searching through the storage closet for any blankets that may have wound up lost in there.

“A-ha!” You pulled an old quilt off from the top shelf, careful to not knock anything down with it. “I knew it was here somewhere!”

You draped the quilt over your shoulders and dragged it back into your bedroom, where your bed was covered with other such blankets and several pillows stolen from around the place. You set the quilt down with the rest, and debated how you could arrange everything in the most comfortable way possible. Did you even have enough time?

You certainly didn’t have the time for a full blown blanket fort, and no matter what you did, you suspected you would just wind up rearranging everything repeatedly. So, you just sighed and grabbed your laptop, scrolling through your selection of movies as you continually glanced at the window.

Tap, tap, tap.

You smiled, getting up to open the window. Technically, it was already unlatched, but whatever. You were met with a familiar green face, just as you’d expected.

“Leo!” You stepped aside to let him in.

“I’m not late, am I?” Leonardo climbed inside, just like you’d watched him do a million times before.

“Nope. You’re right on time.”

As if on cue, the clock in the living room could be heard chiming 9 o’clock.

Brief explanation: today was a Saturday! Seeing as you and Leo couldn’t go on dates the way a normal couple would, you had begun a sort of tradition. Your family conveniently was out most weekends, so every other Saturday, Leo would come over for movie night. Granted, movie nights were something that happened at the lair regardless, but it was different when it was just you and him.

And, this time, it was October, which could only mean one thing.

“So, are we going horror scary, Tim Burton scary, what are we thinking?” You sat back down on the blanket pile, pulling your list back up.

Leo sat down next to you, resting his head on your shoulder. (That definitely did not make you combust inside).

“Please not a slasher. I’m pretty sure Raph’s made us watch every classic slasher movie already in the last week.”

“Really? Y’know, he does seem like a slasher guy.” You quickly eliminated Halloween and Scream from your list. “Any of the rest of these speak to you?”

You watched as Leo’s eyes skimmed over the remaining entries on the list. “Well, I haven’t seen The Corpse Bride.”

“Corpse Bride it is!”

You set aside your laptop and stood up. “I’m gonna go make some popcorn, then we can start. Make yourself comfortable! Oh, but some of those blankets might be a little dusty. Specifically that one.” You pointed at the quilt.

“I can go ahead and pull up the movie, if you’d like.”

“That’d be great! Netflix should already be logged in.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and made your way to the kitchen for the popcorn.

By the time you were back, the movie was paused on the beginning. Leo was drumming his fingers on the bed, but looked up and smiled when you reappeared. You flicked off the lights, and sat back down next to him with the popcorn bowl.

As he unpaused the movie, you snuggled up against him, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around yourself. The opening music began playing, and you reached into the red, plastic bowl in between the two of you for a handful of popcorn.

You didn’t really talk much when you watched something. Not a movie like this, anyways. If it was something one of you was really into, the case was different. Like when you’d sit down to watch Space Heroes, Leo would tell you all the little lore details weaved into the background.

So instead, as the movie played, you just leaned against him. Occasionally, when you got bored of staying still, you’d start poking at Leo just to annoy him. It was a game, trying to make him retaliate. It also helped you stay awake, considering you had had a pretty exhausting day.

After the Corpse Bride, you decided you had time for one more movie. The two of you decided Coraline would do. As the credits rolled, you shifted to find yourself stiff. “You want any more popcorn, or?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

You set the popcorn bowl aside, and pulled your laptop closer to type in the search bar. “Have you seen Coraline?”

“Just once. I don’t remember it very well. I don’t remember how we got it, but we were only… five, maybe? Six at the oldest.” Leo shrugged. “It ended up freaking Mikey out pretty badly, so Master Splinter got rid of it.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.” You scrolled for a moment before clicking on the movie. “Well, let’s see how you feel about it- hey!” You were cut off as he poked you in the cheek.

“Revenge.” He grinned.

“You bastard. I thought you were better than this.”

“You should know better. It’s about patience.”

The beginning sequence to Coraline played, and you couldn’t help but notice Leo’s apparent discomfort at it. You couldn’t blame him - that first scene was certainly something.

When it passed, however, he seemed more relaxed. Every so often, he’d pipe up to say he remembered some part of it from when he was a kid, like the dog bats and the scene in the store.

You must’ve been more tired than you thought, because somewhere around midway through, you began slipping in and out of sleep. You’d shake yourself awake, but always drift back off.

Around the third time this occurred, you were somewhere around the kidnapping of Coraline’s parents. You shifted, trying to wake yourself up, only to feel a hand on your shoulder.

“Go on back to sleep.”

You shook your head. “No, no, I want to finish it with you.”

“We can finish it another day.”

“But that’s not…” You stifled a yawn. “You should go ahead and finish it.”

“Would it be a good compromise if I woke you up at the end?”

You thought about it for a second. “Alright, fine.” That didn’t stop you from trying to stay awake, of course, but it seemed that you just couldn’t keep your eyes open.

Leo gently shook you awake, and you registered the closing theme playing. “It’s over.”

You blinked a couple times. “What’d ya think?”

“I now much better understand Mikey’s terror as a child.” Leo closed up your laptop. “The animation was cool.”

You smiled, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes. “Coraline: Baby’s First Horror Movie. I think it’s pretty good.”

“It is. So’s the Corpse Bride.”

“Great!” You pumped a fist. You were always glad to know Leo enjoyed the movies you watched.

From the living area, you could hear the clock chime once more, this time for midnight. “Sorry I was asleep for half of that.”

“It’s fine.” He smiled softly at you. “It’s getting late anyways.”

You grabbed one of the many pillows and held it to your chest. You leaned back against Leo. “Are you staying the night?”

He put his arms around you and laid back. “For a while, anyways. I’ll have to leave early, though.”

“Mm. That’s fine.” You were already half asleep again.

You knew Leo would probably already be gone by the time you woke up in the morning, but that didn’t matter. He was never gone for long.

You felt him kiss the top of your head. Then, you slipped off into dreamland.

#tmnt x reader #tmnt 2012 x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #gn!reader #tmnt leo x reader #2012 leo x reader #leo x reader

[untitled5071]

your taffy and creature quality time was super cute!! i’d absolutely love it if you could do an unrequited love oneshot of taffy falling for the creature whilst trying to help him woo lisa! (it’s okay if you don’t want to!)

This was such an interesting ask, I hope I did it justice! Writing the pining was easy because I, too, am in unrequited love with Creature, as I'm sure most of us are. I hope you enjoy!

🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦🪦

If Taffy had to watch them carry on like this for much longer, she would surely go insane. 

She was nestled on the far right end of the couch, Lisa's creature next to her and Lisa on the other side, all of them with their attention turned to the television as The Princess Bride played. 

It had been Taffy's suggestion; she had come home to see Creature (it was the only title that suited him, really, no name seemed to fully fit) trying to woo Lisa with his piano playing skills, and though Lisa was dancing and singing along (and when was the last time Taffy had heard Lisa sing? Had she ever?), it was clear that she was painfully oblivious to the undead man's affections, and would remain so until something was done about it. 

Taffy had stood there, watching Creature's fingers fly across the piano keys and ignoring the clenching in her heart before she decided that she would be the person to do something about this one-sided love, because come on, she was not going to let her sister ignore what was right in front of her.

Especially since Lisa seemed to be the only person who would be lucky enough to hold such a high standard in the corpse's unbeating heart. 

It would be a shame to let that much devotion go to waste. 

So she had loudly declared her presence (making both of them jump) and dictated that they should have a movie night, giving the other two no room to protest as she strode over to the television and turned it on, inviting them both to join her on the couch as she found the perfect movie. 

The second she saw Cary Elwes’ face, she knew there was only one correct choice of feature film for the evening. 

She snuck a glance at the two of them during the Shrieking Eels scene and saw that they were both totally entranced, Lisa by the movie Taffy knew she secretly loved and Creature by the fact that he was watching something as wonderous as a movie in general. 

As Buttercup was rescued, Taffy took a second to examine the reanimated corpse sitting next to her; he looked–for lack of a better word–more human than he had when she had first stumbled upon him, save for the stitched-on features she refused to think about the origins of and some intense purple eye bags. His hair flopped over on the right side of his head in dark waves that by all accounts should not look as soft as they did, and his eyes were a deep, intelligent blue, brimming with emotion and complexity as he watched the Man in Black scale the Cliffs of Insanity. 

She was sick of trying to pretend like she was still in denial about the feelings she had for him. 

In all honesty, it shouldn't even be a possibility; he was rotting in the ground not too long ago, and now he was sitting on the couch next to her, his knee slightly knocking into hers and making her heart flutter with every brush of contact. She was very much not into necrophilia, but the corpse to her right was so undeniably and deeply human despite his subzero body temperature that she couldn't help it. 

And his very obvious and intense emotional intelligence weren't making things any easier. 

Anyone with any sense regarding love could see how deeply smitten he was with Lisa. Well, everyone save for Lisa herself. He listened to her, really listened to her in a way that no one had since her mom had died (as much as Taffy tried, she knew she lacked a bit in that regard), and she could see the positive effect it was having on her introverted stepsister. Taffy has never seen her so empowered and talkative, and it was all thanks to the strange creature that had broken into their home.

Despite herself, Taffy wanted someone like that in her life. 

She wanted him. 

But alas, it was not to be, and as they watched the Man in Black enter into a battle of wits with the arrogant Vizzini to reclaim the princess, she saw Lisa lean her head on Creature's shoulder, and the cadavear blushed as much as a corpse could, and it didn't take a genius to see how much the simple gesture meant to the lovesick man. 

Suddenly feeling very restless, Taffy stood up from the couch, answering the inquiring looks from the two still on the couch with a dismissive arm wave and a smile. 

“I don't know where my manners were, we can't have a movie without snacks! You guys just hang tight, I'll be right back. Don't worry about pausing it, I've got this part memorized.”

She flashed another carefully rehearsed smile at the pair before hurrying off to the kitchen before either of them could answer or let her know what they wanted, separating herself from their clueless display. 

She busied herself with gathering a large bowl and setting some Jiffy-pop on the stove, and as it started to heat up she took a moment to give herself one of her famous pep talks, her voice drowned out by the creschendo of popping on the stove.

 

“C'mon Taff, you've got to get it together. You could have any guy you wanted, everyone says so. You've got a reputation to maintain, you can't go falling for a pathetic Victorian man who is very obviously and very permanently in love with your sister. And she deserves it; she hasn't been happy in a long time, and he's going to be able to give that to her, if she ever notices his very obvious hints. The good thing to do is just stay behind and let them have each other. They deserve that, at least. He's not for you.”

She sighed, giving the pan one last shake as if to shake herself out of the feelings she hadn't meant to fall into. When she spoke again, her voice was quiet and solem, secret as her heartache. 

“He's not for you.”

She poured the finished popcorn into the bowl and took a deep breath to center herself just like she did before any cheer routine, though somehow walking back into the room with Lisa and the Creature felt more daunting than being thrown into the air by her fellow cheerleaders. 

When she returned to the living room, a distraught Buttercup was squaring up with her latest captor now, and he revealed herself to be her beloved Westley with his cry of “As You Wish” as he stumbled down the ravine he was pushed into. Naturally, Buttercup flung herself in after him, and they landed at the bottom together as lovers reunited. 

And on the couch, Lisa was still pressed against the Creature, both of their eyes soft as they watched Westley rush to hold Buttercup. 

Her presence still unknown to the pair, Taffy pretended she didn't see the way Creature’s head turned the tiniest bit as if he wanted to kiss Lisa on the forehead, but decided against it. 

Westley's voice rang out from the TV, his tone even but his sincerity immense. 

“Death can not stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while.”

It was almost too much; from her hidden spot in the threshold, Taffy saw Lisa and the Creature exchange a meaningful glance, both looking away and blushing as the two figures onscreen leaned in for a kiss. 

Taffy took that as her cue.

She strolled her way back into the room, plopping herself down and offering the bowl to her two companions while promptly ignoring the ache in her heart. 

Lisa deserves this. Taffy would just have to be content to find her own happiness somewhere else, even if it pained her.

It's what a good sister would do, after all. 

“So, who wants popcorn?”

#lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein fanfiction #taffy swallows #lisa swallows #the creature #laffy taffy #taffy swallows x the creature #lisa swallows x the creature #lisa frankenstein 2024 #my writing #one shot request

[redandfranticfeelings]

i wrote a bob's burgers fanfic about bob helping louise overcome jitters on her wedding night

inspired by a quote in "poops i didn't do it again," ao3 link will be in replies

Between his racing thoughts and Linda’s restless legs, Bob already wasn’t sleeping too well. So when his humming phone made the bedside table vibrate, he was relatively quick to respond.

“Hello?” he groggily answered.

“Daaaaad!”

Of course he’d know that chipper voice anywhere.

“Louise?” Bob sat up as fast as he could without making himself dizzy. “Is everything okay?”

The last time he’d seen his youngest daughter, she had demanded that none of her family members call her unless someone was dying – “and even then, they better be bleeding or suffocating.” She and Rudy had a morning flight to San Francisco, and knowing how carefully they’d saved for both the wedding and the honeymoon, Bob had taken her instruction seriously. But now she was calling him?

“Oh, it’s better than okay!” She sounded happy, but he couldn’t be too sure. She’d put this same cheery voice on when trying to cut a deal with a customer she wanted to strangle. “Rudy was hungry, so I walked down to this sushi place we’d read about – Sushi Stay or Sushi Go? Yeah, turns out they have a bunch of authentic Japanese cookware here.”

“Oh, really?” Bob rubbed his eyes open.

“Yeah! And it’s all discounted because it’s been slightly used, which is enough to make it basically worthless to rich chefs. I think I even saw a Fukinawa knife.”

“You’re kidding. A real Fukinawa knife?”

“Eyeballing it, I can’t be sure if it’s the real deal, but they just sliced an albacore in mid-air with it, so it’ll put asses in seats anyway. I’m sure you’ll clock it better than I can.”

Bob eased himself up onto the floor. “Where even is this place? You said it’s called… Sushi Stay? Sushi Go?”

“No, no. Sushi Stay or Sushi Go. One phrase. It’s like, right by our hotel. It’s open 24 hours. Big neon sign. You can’t miss it.”

“Alright, Louise. I’ll come check it out.”

As Bob sauntered over to get his coat, his wife began to stir as well. “Wussup, Bobby?” she yawned, not sitting up quite yet.

“Louise called.”

“Oh, is she okay?” Linda yawned, still winded from the reception. “Rudy ain’t already giving her a hard time, is he?”

“No, it’s fine.” Bob pulled his coat over his pajamas and stuffed his feet into his clogs. “It’s just… business stuff. Just a restaurant she wanted to show me before she left.”

“Okay, little night owls.” Linda settled back into her pillow. “Just don’t sleep all morning. Unless I do. Then don’t bother me.” She fell back asleep quickly.

Bob walked to his car, more anxious than ever. There was no Fukinawa knife, and he knew it. And honestly, Louise probably knew he knew it.

----

He already knew the route to Louise’s hotel, so finding the sushi place was pretty easy. It was well-lit, and through the glass, he could see their sole customer sitting up at the counter.

She still wore her wedding dress – well, more of a tuxedo-dress, with the skirt tattered like some kind of corpse bride. Her hair was still down, her idea of having anything “fancy” done with it, because she’d refuted all of Jocelyn’s offers to style it pro-bono. And of course, she had the pink beanie-turned-bandana tied around her head. There was no food in front of her, and as far as Bob could tell, no to-go box for Rudy.

Bob parked in a free spot and opened the door. Louise’s head turned when she heard the bell ring. “Ooooh, you just missed the salesguy.” She put on a facade of frustration. “He needed to get back to Japan for an expo in the morning, so he couldn’t wait up. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I actually don’t have cash, anyway.” Bob took the stool next to his daughter. He noticed, on either side of him, little papers folded to look like fish and seaweed. He picked up a tiny origami fish. “These are cute.”

“Yeah, I think the owner’s kid made them, so he put them out front to cultivate this beachy aesthetic. He said we can take a couple home, the kid’s always making more anyway.” She scoffed. “Child labor, am I right?”

Bob curiously unfolded part of the fish, then immediately regretted it as he had no idea how to replicate all those seamless creases, and his re-folding attempts only seemed to mutilate it further.

“Great going, father,” Louise snarked. “You’re killing endangered marine life.”

“It’s too many creases. Here, you try it.” He handed the crumpled paper square to his daughter. “You know… paper. Better than I do.”

Having spent most of middle school turning red-marked assignments into paper masterpieces, and generally having younger and nimbler hands than her father, Louise re-folded the fish without hesitation. “Wow,” Bob remarked.

“I wonder if origami would suit our place,” Louise mused, making the fish swim through the air. “We hang little paper burgers everywhere or something. Maybe it’ll make us look quote-unquote cultured.”

“I don’t know,” Bob said, giving the same response he always gave Louise’s business ideas. “Half the time we redecorate the restaurant, people get freaked out. Or think we’re haunted. Or a…gay bar? That one time?”

“You’re right. Let’s think bigger. We’ll print our menus bilingually. And every hour, we’ll perform the 2.5D Burobu musical I wrote with Gene in high school. Full love scene included.”

Bob shook his head, giving a very small chuckle. Louise had spent most of her adulthood as his business consultant humbling him, and it had mostly paid off. It seemed she had a new marketing idea every week, and though it wasn’t without some serious costs (“Who cares about the wind? I nearly lost a foot getting these fireworks across the border!”), it definitely drew far more positive attention to the restaurant than they’d gotten in the past two decades. They weren’t booming, but they always had someone curious about the Burger of the Day they’d seen out front (after Louise suggested that, Bob had a week-long crisis about how stupid he’d been for not doing it sooner) and the somewhat unsettling chalk drawing that accompanied it.

“How about we meet in the middle?” He cracked a smile. “You and Rudy can hang up some of your old puppets.”

Something about that drained all the pride from Louise’s face. “Yeah, me and Rudy can do a lot of things now,” she mumbled, focusing narrowly on her paper fish.

Fatherly concern struck Bob once again. “Okay, Louise.” He knew he couldn’t put this off any further. “What are you doing down here in the middle of the night? In your dress?”

She scoffed. “What, a woman can’t swing by a 24-hour sushi place and take in the sights the night before her honeymoon?”

“I mean you can, it’s just… I figured you’d want to be with Rudy tonight. You both seemed pretty excited.”

“Yeah yeah, we were super excited! It’s San Francisco is as close to a trip to Tokyo as I'll ever get! But, uh, well…” Her phony enthusiasm began to falter. “I think we might need to postpone the trip.”

“What?” Bob exclaimed. “Louise, you and Rudy have been saving to go to California for months.” He swore he saw her eye twitch.

“I don’t know…” Her eyes darted around the room. “The weather might be unpleasant? We’ll be sweating our asses off, and you know how easy Rudy burns. Honestly, June weddings are so overrated.” She chuckled, and it was clear she was running out of lies.

“Louise.” Bob made direct eye contact with his daughter – something both of them hated to do.

Louise scoffed and fidgeted for a few more moments, but when she couldn’t dig up any more excuses, she just groaned. “I don’t want a honeymoon, Dad!”

“What changed?”

“Oh, nothing much, just this little thing where I had to declare in front of my entire family that I’d be devoted to one man for the rest of my life.”

“Well, you love Rudy, right?” Bob felt a bit jittery. Louise and Rudy had been dating for nearly a decade before their engagement, so he couldn’t imagine her feeling rushed.

“Of course I do.” There was a softness in her eyes that always emerged when she spoke about Rudy. “He’s like, the nicest person in the world. And when I was looking right at him, telling him I loved him, I really wanted him to know that. I felt that.” She sighed. “But like… everyone else was saying things that just drove me crazy.”

“Like?”

“‘Congrats to you and Rudy.’ ‘You two will have such a great future.’ ‘You look great together.’” She scowled with every sentence. “It’s like I didn’t exist. I just became half of some… Rudy-and-Louise love monster. And when we got to the hotel, he kept introducing me as ‘my wife’ to everyone there.”

“That’s kind of sweet,” Bob said, and he meant it, but his tone didn’t quite convey it.

"Dad." Now she looked her father right in the eyes. "This one little kid in the lobby started calling me ‘My Wife Louise’.”

“Oh. Oh my god.”

“Yeah. Getting back to our room after all that did not exactly put me in a honeymoon mood. He even called room service to order champagne for ‘him and his wife.’ Fuck, how do other newlyweds hear that all day and still jump each other’s bones?” She gripped her dress like she wanted to tear it right off. “You're basically half-people now, so you’re half as sexy too.”

“Mmm.” Understandably, Bob didn’t really want to think about Louise and Rudy like that.

Now that she’d gotten that off her chest, she tried, awkwardly, to revert to her casual arrogance. “Anyway, I was gonna tell him you had an emergency and I couldn’t go to San Francisco with him. But you know I can’t lie to him. So I just wrote my feelings in a note, left it by his bedside while he’s sleeping off the liquor, and I’ll hitch a ride home with you to stay at the apartment. We’ll figure things out in the morning, or whatever.”

“Oh my god. Louise, no.” Bob felt so bad for his daughter, but he knew this was the wrong move. “You can’t just run off. Not after all this.”

“Relaaaaax!” She tried to wave him off. “I’ll still be married to him, legally. I just can’t do all that coupley shit right now. We can consummate our marriage and all that shit in a few months. And I’m not wasting the plane ticket, I’ll just pawn it or haggle for a different day. I’m a great haggler.”

“Still. It’s not fair to Rudy.”

“I know it’s not fair to Rudy!” Louise cried out, startling the chefs working in the kitchen. “I just can’t see any other option. I just know if I go on that trip with him, I’ll spend the whole time feeling like… ‘wife Louise,’ not normal Louise. And I can’t risk turning into that forever. I’m not Tina.”

“You won’t turn into Tina. Also, being Tina isn’t a bad thing.”

“Being Tina, I could survive – barely. Being wife Tina is my fucking nightmare.”

As much as Bob wanted to argue with that, seeing his son-in-law still made him inexplicably twitchy, and the way Tina spoke so fondly of him sounded like a foreign language. He only really understood it when he saw them with his granddaughter.

“But what sucks the most is that I know he’ll figure that out. I know he’ll know I’m upset, and he’ll think it’s because of him. I need him to know it’s not his fault. I’m just not good at being a wife. And I wish I knew that before we got married, because he’s been so terrified I’m gonna leave him for good. So I can’t tell him how fucked up I am to his face, but I can’t lie to him either.”

Louise swatted the fish off the counter, onto the floor, and slumped onto the counter. Bob got off the stool, bent down very carefully, and picked it back up.

“You know, your mother and I didn’t have a honeymoon on our wedding night.”

“Dad, I’ve seen the pictures. You barely had a wedding.”

“True. We’re not really… good at romance. I mean, your mother is. She’s really into it.”

“This to the girl who just endured an eight-minute musical wedding toast. Preaching to the choir, Dad.”

Bob chuckled. Linda had spent months workshopping that, and what she sang at the reception wasn’t even half of what she’d written. “My point is, I didn’t think I’d be good at being a husband. And maybe I’m not, to some people. Your mother usually thinks I am. But I guess everyone has a different idea of what a married couple should be. We're not all like Tina and Daniel. I mean, I love your mother, but if I did everything she wanted us to do, I’d be… really tired. All the time.”

“You would be?” Louise was smiling again.

“Hey, cut me some slack. It’s the middle of the night. Plus I just had to bend down.” He placed the fish back in front of Louise. “But you and Rudy can have fun together and still be your own people. Like, he can do his magic, and you can do your… delightfully creepy blackboard drawings.”

“You make my job sound like my only hobby. You make my life sound sad.”

“Mmm. And then both of you can do your puppet shows and anime conventions and hikes and stuff. And you don’t have to hold yourself back.”

“I kind of do. Rudy can’t walk too far without losing his breath.”

“I mean you don’t have to stop being Louise. You’re just…” He glanced down at the paper fish. “The same Louise, in a different shape.”

Louise ran her thumb along the creases. The paper had some awkward creases from being folded and unfolded, but they knew it was a fish. Just like Bob still knew she was Louise.

“Geez,” she scoffed, “if you’re gonna use them for corny metaphors, maybe we’ll ditch the origami idea.” She passed the fish to her dad. “Here. I hear some customers use these as tips in Japan. Consider it a tip for some good fatherly advice.”

“Honestly, I prefer being tipped with money.”

“Oh, hard agree.”

“But… coming from my daughter, it means a lot.”

The bride finally scooted off the stool. “Welp, I better get back to my hotel. I got a marital bed to sneak back into.”

“You should destroy that note.”

“Totally. It’ll feel good.” Louise held out her hand to help her aging father to his feet. “You know, the sashimi here isn’t even worth taking home to him. They need that cutesy beginner's origami more than we ever will.”

Louise held onto Bob all the way to his car, and he held the strands of her dress to ensure neither of them would trip. He sat in the driver’s seat and watched her walk back home for a few minutes, but he definitely wouldn’t follow her. After all, she was an independent woman.

----

Rudy Belcher was out like a light, still wearing everything from the wedding except his blazer and one shoe, which were draped over a chair. He looked so delicate, even as he snored up a storm. Louise always listened carefully as she fell asleep to make sure he didn’t choke.

As she undressed and crawled into bed, Louise carefully took the folded-up note from the bedside table. She quietly unfolded it, scrunched up her nose at the curt writing, then re-folded it into a paper fish and placed it under her pillow before wrapping her arm around Rudy.

Maybe in the morning before boarding, she’d throw it onto the runway and hope that it’d swim into a jet engine.

Or just rip it up like a normal person.

But that wouldn’t be very Louise of her, would it?

#bobs burgers #louise belcher #bob belcher #rudy x louise #bobs burgers fanfiction #my fic

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

ahhhhh congrats on 3.5k, you deserve it and sm more! and your account is literally one of the prettiest i’ve seen oml <3

people are particularly stupid today — idk if this has been done before but cym as your favourite tv shows, or your favourite quotes from tv shows, whichever one seems more fun

okay, so when I thought about tv show quotes all I could think about rn was ones from greys anatomy, so that's just what it's gonna be! quotes I remember from greys ♡

@ddejavvu - "but I love you. In a really, really big pretend to like your taste in music, let you eat the last piece of cheesecake, hold a radio over my head outside your window, unfortunate way that makes me hate you, love you. So pick me, choose me, love me."

@midniteluv - "Oh screw beautiful! I’m brilliant! If you want to appease me, compliment my brain."

@deeplywornletters - "If I murdered someone, she’s the person I’d call to help me drag the corpse across the living room floor. She’s my person."

@chvoswxtch - "This man is a whore, has always been a whore and will always probably be a whore."

@cosmal - "I have five rules. Memorize them."

@fleurfairie - "Don't let what he wants eclipse what you need. He's very dreamy. But he is not the sun - you are."

@fxllfaiiry - "[Burke] took something from me. He took little pieces, of me. Little pieces over time, so small I didn't even notice, you know? He wanted me to be something I wasn't, and I made myself into what he wanted. One day I was me, Cristina Yang, and then suddenly I was lying for him and jeopardizing my career and agreeing to be married and wearing a ring and being a bride. Until I was standing there in a wedding dress with no eyebrows and I wasn't Cristina Yang anymore. And even then I would have married him...I lost myself for a long time, and now that I'm finally me again, I can't...I love you more than I loved Burke...and that scares the crap out of me, because when you asked me to ignore Teddy's page, you took a piece of me. And I let you. And that will never happen again."

@fightingdragonswithwho - "I can do hot in my sleep. I look hot in scrubs. I'm a hot person."

@gaelic-symphony - "I am calling post-it, Zola, Bailey, the tumors on the wall, ferryboat scrub caps." 

@sw34terw34ther - "Knowing is better than wondering. Waking is better than sleeping, and even the biggest failure, even the worst, beats the hell out of never trying."

@oncasette - "Have some fire. Be unstoppable. Be a force of nature. Be better than anyone here and don't give a damn about what anyone thinks."

@bruisedboys - "Shut up! Dance it out."

| join my 3.5k celebration! |

#also thank you so much omg ♡ #you are so sweet #I'm glad my hours in procreate payed off #lea answers #3.5k celebration #greys anatomy #grey's anatomy #grey's anatomy quotes

[yallemagne]

the reincarnation plot from every bad dracula movie but make it queer

Preface:

Every time I go out for a walk I think about the goddamn reincarnation plot that movies use and I ask to myself “but what if it was Jonathan--” and then twenty years get taken off of my life as retribution. Basically most story ideas I have are “what if the bad thing happened to Jonathan”, and I refuse to reflect on what that entails. 

How most reincarnation plots go is that Dracula rifles through Jonathan’s bag and finds a picture of Mina and suddenly goes batshit as if he’s not seen a women in a thousand years (he totally has, he has three roommates). This happened in Nosferatu (don’t recall if it was bc she looked like his dead wife or he’s just an incel) and way too many other adaptations while having never actually happened in the book. 

But I can make the reincarnation plot gay AND stick more faithfully to the book. 

Okay lessgo--

When Jonathan finds the study:

Here I am, sitting at a little oak table where in old times possibly some fair lady sat to pen, with much thought and many blushes, her ill-spelt love letter, and writing in my diary in shorthand all that has happened since I closed it last. 

and

I determined not to return tonight to the gloom-haunted rooms, but to sleep here, where, of old, ladies had sat and sung and lived sweet lives whilst their gentle breasts were sad for their menfolk away in the midst of remorseless wars. 

Besides just screaming femme Jonathan, that’s perfect reincarnation fodder. You can play this as if he’s recalling his own memories of being Dracula’s forlorn wife worrying about him as he goes off to war. 

And then he meets the Weird Sisters, and he recognizes one of them:

The other was fair, as fair as can be, with great wavy masses of golden hair and eyes like pale sapphires. I seemed somehow to know her face, and to know it in connection with some dreamy fear, but I could not recollect at the moment how or where. 

Most people interpret the blonde vampire as being Dracula’s original wife and the two dark-haired vampires his daughters. Totally see that. Now, why does Jonathan recognize her? Blah, blah, she’s him, he’s her. 

The thing about most reincarnation plots though is that they always have the Sisters but they have no bearing on the plot. Hey Mina, your “hubby” has three women he keeps as pets, why don’t you ask WHO THEY ARE AND WHY HE DOES THAT TO THEM. But those would be rational questions. 

So anyway, how do dead vampire wife and living Jonathan wife exist at the same time? I mean, it could be that Dracula’s original wife wasn’t turned when she was alive. Perhaps the same deal with Satan he did to become immortal reanimated his wife’s corpse. But of course, her soul was gone. 

Whoopsies Dracula, you fucked up. 

"How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me! Beware how you meddle with him, or you'll have to deal with me." The fair girl, with a laugh of ribald coquetry, turned to answer him:—

"You yourself never loved; you never love!" On this the other women joined, and such a mirthless, hard, soulless laughter rang through the room that it almost made me faint to hear; it seemed like the pleasure of fiends. Then the Count turned, after looking at my face attentively, and said in a soft whisper:—

"Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so?"

I’m just gonna say, the blonde vampire’s response to Dracula staking his claim in Jonathan being “you’ve never loved”... foreshadowing. Even the corpse bride over here is like “bitch, I know you’re not gonna treat my soul right this time”. And I’m not the only one who has said Dracula looking at Jonathan and saying softly “Yes, I too can love” is pretty homosexual. 

Now you may think I’m veering towards Dracula/Jonathan, but Dracula is still an abuser, so no. 

With that said-- MINA!

She fetches Jonathan from the convent and they travel back to England, and Jonathan can’t help feeling severely out of place now. He spent so much time as a damsel in that castle, having past memories come to him in the form of nightmares, and then he spent his recovery surrounded by women who were sympathetic towards him and promise to keep the weird memory dreams secret. 

But now he’s in England, and he can hardly walk down the street without being a little genderqueer about it. 

And what is he supposed to think about his relationship with his gender when he’s not even sure these are his own feelings? Is he experiencing actual gender dysphoria towards being a man or are these just the thoughts of a long-dead woman? Doesn’t help if this is still set in Victorian England where if he were to confide these feelings in anyone, he could be institutionalized. 

Not to mention his relationship with Mina. Is he being deceptive towards her? He doesn’t know. He feels guilty for these newfound feelings. Does having a woman’s soul invalidate their relationship somehow? Does his previous relationship with Dracula invalidate it? Should he let her go so she can seek out a more worthy partner? The answer to all the questions are no of course, but this is a drama. 

I could go on and try to plot out an actual story on the spot, but the original intent of this was just to make a point that the reincarnation plot has more backing it if Jonathan is the reincarnated bride of Dracula instead. Which plenty of people have already said, but I'm giving my own talking points because I’ve been dying to okay.

#dracula #it's been forever since the last entry I am grasping at straws #dracula daily #jonathan harker #writing ideas #I can't think of any more tags

[cherryc1nnam0n]

Your Beauty Never Ever Scared Me | Chapter 3

Days had gone by since Eddie Munson was last seen... His things were left untouched and no signs of robbery or forced entry at his house...

His fiance, Chrissy Cunningham, was dead worried for him, she wanted him to appear and tell her everything would be okay, she has helplessly fallen in love with the boy who couldn't care about her a bit

On those days away, Eddie was shown a different world, a world of color and oddly, life, it was the Death Realm, where all people that died would come and stay there for eternity, constant parties and weird food abounded down there

"How do you like it so far dear?" Y/n asked him after sitting down

They had been dancing almost all night and he was more than happy

"This is so... Amazing! It's so much, vibrant and just, different" he sighed happily

He hadn't been so happy in years, feeling like his life was starting to make sense now

This woman, I'm the short time he had known her, was stealing his heart, and he wasn't complaining at all, he would let her

"I don't want to leave this place... I feel like I belong here..." He said grabbing her hand

"But you don't"

He turned to the familiar voice, and what he saw almost killed him

It was Steve Harrington, his childhood best friend

"Steve?"

"Eddie, so good to see you again!"

They hugged tightly, Eddie was way taller than him, since Steve died when he was 13 and Eddie was now 19, he was so happy to see his friend

"I see you found the Corpse Bride..." Steve said talking about Y/n

"Yes! I followed what you told me, and... She's amazing..." He looked at her lovingly "I would do anything to stay here with her..."

"Even die?"

"What?" He turned to Steve

Steve sighed, sitting down next to him "Eddie... This is the Death Realm... You, are alive" he pinched his arm "If you wish to stay, you have to die..."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing, he hadn't thought about that, he looked at Y/n and sighed

"Y/n... I... I have to... I have to do something, okay? Stay here, I'll be back"

"I trust you dear..."

Eddie had to talk to Chrissy, so he left quickly to the Living Realm, his soon to be ex home...

He was decided... He would tell everything to Chrissy...

When he came back, he rushed to Chrissy's house, climbing up her room through her balcony, he found her, laying in bed as she cried

"Eddie... Please come back..."

"I'm here"

She shot up from her bed, running to hug him "Oh my God! You're back! Why are you so cold? Where have you been?" She said holding his face, he took her hands away

"Listen Chrissy, I have to tell you something..."

"Come sit by the fire dear" she sat him on a couch "Tell me, what happened to you?"

He sighed, her blue eyes staring at him

"I don't want to get married... Not to you..." He said truthfully

"What...? Why...?"

"I don't love you... And I don't think I can ever love you... You're a wonderful girl but... You're not for me... In fact... I'm already married..."

"No... No, Eddie no, how?"

He sighed again "It doesn't matter anymore, I have to go Chrissy"

She stopped him

"Swear it... Swear you won't leave me Eddie..."

He looked at the girl with teary eyes... Breaking her heart the longer he remained in silence

"I'm sorry... But this isn't meant to be..."

With that he walked away from her... Taking her heart with him...

Taglist:

@ali-r3n

#eddie munson/reader #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #boyfriend eddie munson #eddie munson x chubby reader #eddie munson x plus size reader #corpse bride au #chrissy cunningham

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

Stumpy note:

Until tumblr support fixes my account, I won't be able to respond to any replies or tags you leave on this post. 😢 I'm sorry. Please know I love all your contributions!

ADWD: The Prince of Winterfell (Theon IV) [Chapter 37]

The bride was shivering too. They had dressed her in white lambswool trimmed with lace. Her sleeves and bodice were sewn with freshwater pearls, and on her feet were white doeskin slippers—pretty, but not warm. Her face was pale, bloodless.

A face carved of ice, Theon Greyjoy thought as he draped a fur-trimmed cloak about her shoulders. A corpse buried in the snow. "My lady. It is time." Beyond the door, the music called them, lute and pipes and drum.

Unwilling brides and pearls in back-to-back chapters.

A corpse buried in the snow.

Like Bran's cave! Probably not intentional.

+.+.+

Talk like that will get you killed, or worse. That lesson he had learned as Reek. "You are the real Arya, my lady. Arya of House Stark, Lord Eddard's daughter, heir to Winterfell." Her name, she had to know her name. "Arya Underfoot. Your sister used to call you Arya Horseface."

"It was me made up that name. Her face was long and horsey. Mine isn't. I was pretty." Tears spilled from her eyes at last. "I was never beautiful like Sansa, but they all said I was pretty. Does Lord Ramsay think I am pretty?"

You have to be a depraved fucking animal to harbor any hatred towards this girl for this.

+.+.+

"Help me." She clutched at him. "Please. I used to watch you in the yard, playing with your swords. You were so handsome." She squeezed his arm. "If we ran away, I could be your wife, or your … your whore … whatever you wanted. You could be my man."

Similar to Theon, I would also like to be put out of my misery.

+.+.+

Theon wrenched his arm away from her. "I'm no … I'm no one's man." A man would help her. 

. . .

+.+.+

Jeyne, her name is Jeyne, it rhymes with pain. 

Theon, can you please shut up.

+.+.+

The music was growing more insistent. "It is time. Wipe those tears from your eyes." Brown eyes. They should be grey. Someone will see. Someone will remember. "Good. Now smile."

Someone will remember, the north remembers, Yohn Royce remembers. . . lots of remembering going on.

+.+.+

"She has a brother still." She has three brothers still, he might have said. "Jon Snow is with the Night's Watch."

"A half-brother, bastard-born, and bound to the Wall. You were her father's ward, the nearest thing she has to living kin. It is only fitting that you give her hand in marriage."

The nearest thing she has to living kin. Theon Greyjoy had grown up with Arya Stark. Theon would have known an imposter. If he was seen to accept Bolton's feigned girl as Arya, the northern lords who had gathered to bear witness to the match would have no grounds to question her legitimacy. Stout and Slate, Whoresbane Umber, the quarrelsome Ryswells, Hornwood men and Cerywn cousins, fat Lord Wyman Manderly … not one of them had known Ned Stark's daughters half so well as he. And if a few entertained private doubts, surely they would be wise enough to keep those misgivings to themselves.

They are using me to cloak their deception, putting mine own face on their lie. That was why Roose Bolton had clothed him as a lord again, to play his part in this mummer's farce. Once that was done, once their false Arya had been wedded and bedded, Bolton would have no more use for Theon Turncloak. "Serve us in this, and when Stannis is defeated we will discuss how best to restore you to your father's seat," his lordship had said in that soft voice of his, a voice made for lies and whispers. Theon never believed a word of it. He would dance this dance for them because he had no choice, but afterward … He will give me back to Ramsay then, he thought, and Ramsay will take a few more fingers and turn me into Reek once more. 

If this was my first time reading the story, I would think Theon eventually exposes the lie.

He doesn't though, and now that she's on her way to the Wall it's kind of unnecessary. There's still the Bran and Rickon lie?

Ramsay will take a few more fingers and turn me into Reek once more. 

I guess he's Theon today.

+.+.+

Unless the gods were good, and Stannis Baratheon descended on Winterfell and put all of them to the sword, himself included. That was the best he could hope for.

Theon has had multiple opportunities to kill himself.

+.+.+

Icicles long as lances hung from the battlements and fringed the towers like an old man's stiff white whiskers. But inside the godswood, the ground remained unfrozen, and steam rose off the hot pools, as warm as baby's breath.

x

Theon Greyjoy was no stranger to this godswood. He had played here as a boy, skipping stones across the cold black pool beneath the weirwood, hiding his treasures in the bole of an ancient oak, stalking squirrels with a bow he made himself.

Are the hot pools and cold black pool symbolic of something?

+.+.+

Theon wore black and gold, his cloak pinned to his shoulder by a crude iron kraken that a smith in Barrowton had hammered together for him. But under the hood, his hair was white and thin, and his flesh had an old man's greyish undertone. A Stark at last, he thought. 

He's so depressing.

+.+.+

The first time he had ever kissed a girl had been here. Later, a different girl had made a man of him upon a ragged quilt in the shade of that tall grey-green sentinel.

It's funny to picture baby Bran witnessing all these things.

+.+.+

He had never seen the godswood like this, though—grey and ghostly, filled with warm mists and floating lights and whispered voices that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Beneath the trees, the hot springs steamed. Warm vapors rose from the earth, shrouding the trees in their moist breath, creeping up the walls to draw grey curtains across the watching windows.

Speaking of Bran,

BRAN?!

+.+.+

The mists were so thick that only the nearest trees were visible; beyond them stood tall shadows and faint lights. Candles flickered beside the wandering path and back amongst the trees, pale fireflies floating in a warm grey soup. It felt like some strange underworld, some timeless place between the worlds, where the damned wandered mournfully for a time before finding their way down to whatever hell their sins had earned them. Are we all dead, then? Did Stannis come and kill us in our sleep? Is the battle yet to come, or has it been fought and lost?

Here and there a torch burned hungrily, casting its ruddy glow over the faces of the wedding guests. The way the mists threw back the shifting light made their features seem bestial, half-human, twisted. Lord Stout became a mastiff, old Lord Locke a vulture, Whoresbane Umber a gargoyle, Big Walder Frey a fox, Little Walder a red bull, lacking only a ring for his nose. Roose Bolton's own face was a pale grey mask, with two chips of dirty ice where his eyes should be.

what

+.+.+

Above their heads the trees were full of ravens, their feathers fluffed as they hunched on bare brown branches, staring down at the pageantry below. Maester Luwin's birds. Luwin was dead, and his maester's tower had been put to the torch, yet the ravens lingered. This is their home. Theon wondered what that would be like, to have a home.

Then the mists parted, like the curtain opening at a mummer show to reveal some new tableau. The heart tree appeared in front of them, its bony limbs spread wide. Fallen leaves lay about the wide white trunk in drifts of red and brown. The ravens were the thickest here, muttering to one another in the murderers' secret tongue. 

Ha! There it is. I went back to ACOK when I should have looked forward.

I bet that he could learn to fly too, him and Arya and Sansa, even baby Rickon and Jon Snow. We could all be ravens and live in Maester Luwin's rookery. - Bran III, ADWD

Please let every raven in the story be Bran and not Bloodraven. I will clown the fandom for life.

This is a Stark story. Get your musty Targ Big Brother theories out of here.

+.+.+

She raised her eyes to his. Brown eyes, not grey. Are all of them so blind? For a long moment she did not speak, but those eyes were begging. This is your chance, he thought. Tell them. Tell them now. Shout out your name before them all, tell them that you are not Arya Stark, let all the north hear how you were made to play this part. It would mean her death, of course, and his own as well, but Ramsay in his wroth might kill them quickly. The old gods of the north might grant them that small boon.

Theon has had multiple opportunities to kill himself.

+.+.+

Theon stepped back, and Ramsay and his bride joined hands and knelt before the heart tree, bowing their heads in token of submission. The weirwood's carved red eyes stared down at them, its great red mouth open as if to laugh. In the branches overhead a raven quorked.

Not sure what to make of that. Doesn't feel like a laughing matter, Bran.

Unreliable narrator?

+.+.+

Quick as that, it was done. Weddings went more quickly in the north. It came of not having priests, Theon supposed, but whatever the reason it seemed to him a mercy.

The author would like you to know a priest doesn't oversee a wedding in the north.

+.+.+

The musicians began to play again, and the bard Abel began to sing "Two Hearts That Beat as One." Two of his women joined their voices to his own to make a sweet harmony.

Mance nodded. "Good. You'll go with Jarl and Styr on the morrow, then. Both of you. Far be it from me to separate two hearts that beat as one." - Jon II, ASOS

+.+.+

Theon found himself wondering if he should say a prayer. Will the old gods hear me if I do? They were not his gods, had never been his gods. He was ironborn, a son of Pyke, his god was the Drowned God of the islands … but Winterfell was long leagues from the sea.

Let's see about that.

"Aeron is drunk on seawater and sanctity. He lives only for his god—"

"His god? Not yours?" - Theon II, ACOK

+.+.+

It had been a lifetime since any god had heard him. He did not know who he was, or what he was, why he was still alive, why he had ever been born.

"Theon," a voice seemed to whisper.

Theon's in the middle of questioning the purpose of his life when Bran shows up. Not exactly subtle.

+.+.+

His head snapped up. "Who said that?" All he could see were the trees and the fog that covered them. The voice had been as faint as rustling leaves, as cold as hate. A god's voice, or a ghost's. How many died the day that he took Winterfell? How many more the day he lost it? The day that Theon Greyjoy died, to be reborn as Reek. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with shriek.

Suddenly he did not want to be here.

Once outside the godswood the cold descended on him like a ravening wolf and caught him in its teeth. He lowered his head into the wind and made for the Great Hall, hastening after the long line of candles and torches. Ice crunched beneath his boots, and a sudden gust pushed back his hood, as if a ghost had plucked at him with frozen fingers, hungry to gaze upon his face.

The vibes are all off. What's going on Bran? Unreliable narrator?

+.+.+

All the color had been leached from Winterfell until only grey and white remained. The Stark colors. Theon did not know whether he ought to find that ominous or reassuring.

Reassuring.

+.+.+

Even the sky was grey. Grey and grey and greyer. The whole world grey, everywhere you look, everything grey except the eyes of the bride. 

This is how George R. R. Martin sees the world.

+.+.+

The eyes of the bride were brown. Big and brown and full of fear. It was not right that she should look to him for rescue. What had she been thinking, that he would whistle up a winged horse and fly her out of here, like some hero in the stories she and Sansa used to love? He could not even help himself. 

God bless Sansa and Jeyne for their love of heroes on winged horses who rescue maidens in towers.

+.+.+

Stout new gates had gone up first, to replace those that had been burned. Then the collapsed roof of the Great Hall had been cleared away and a new one raised hurriedly in its stead. When the work was done, Lord Bolton hanged the workers. True to his word, he showed them mercy and did not flay a one.

God damnit, Roose is cursing Winterfell. We need Sansa to burn some sage to cleanse this space.

His son Maegor the Cruel had seen it completed. Afterward he had taken the heads of every stonemason, woodworker, and builder who had labored on it. Only the blood of the dragon would ever know the secrets of the fortress the Dragonlords had built, he vowed. - Catelyn IV, AGOT

+.+.+

Theon arrived in Barbrey Dustin's train, with her ladyship herself, her Barrowton levies, and the bride-to-be. Lady Dustin had insisted that she should have custody of Lady Arya until such time as she was wed, but now that time was done.

Lady Dustin is nursing some doubts.

No, he thought. She is not of Lord Eddard's blood, her name is Jeyne, she is only a steward's daughter. He did not doubt that Lady Dustin suspected, but even so … - The Turncloak, ADWD

+.+.+

This was never my home. I was a hostage here. Lord Stark had not treated him cruelly, but the long steel shadow of his greatsword had always been between them. He was kind to me, but never warm. He knew that one day he might need to put me to death.

Theon kept his eyes downcast as he crossed the yard, weaving between the tents. I learned to fight in this yard, he thought, remembering warm summer days spent sparring with Robb and Jon Snow under the watchful eyes of old Ser Rodrik. That was back when he was whole, when he could grasp a sword hilt as well as any man. But the yard held darker memories as well. This was where he had assembled Stark's people the night Bran and Rickon fled the castle. Ramsay was Reek then, standing at his side, whispering that he should flay a few of his captives to make them tell him where the boys had gone. There will be no flaying here whilst I am Prince of Winterfell, Theon had responded, little dreaming how short his rule would prove. None of them would help me. I had known them all for half my life, and not one of them would help me. Even so, he had done his best to protect them, but once Ramsay put Reek's face aside he'd slain all the men, and Theon's ironborn as well. He set my horse afire. That was the last sight he had seen the day the castle fell: Smiler burning, the flames leaping from his mane as he reared up, kicking, screaming, his eyes white with terror. Here in this very yard.

If you start feeling a little bit of sympathy for Theon Greyjoy he'll quickly remind you why he's insufferable.

+.+.+

Up near the dais, Abel was plucking at his lute and singing "Fair Maids of Summer." He calls himself a bard. In truth he's more a pander. Lord Manderly had brought musicians from White Harbor, but none were singers, so when Abel turned up at the gates with a lute and six women, he had been made welcome. "Two sisters, two daughters, one wife, and my old mother," the singer claimed, though not one looked like him. "Some dance, some sing, one plays the pipe and one the drums. Good washerwomen too."

There's Abel aka Bael the Bard aka Mance Rayder on his little suicide mission that makes no sense.

Did you know pander means pimp?

+.+.+

Where they came from Theon could not say. They just seemed to appear, like maggots on a corpse or ravens after a battle. Every army drew them. Some were hardened whores who could fuck twenty men in a night and drink them all blind. Others looked as innocent as maids, but that was just a trick of their trade. Some were camp brides, bound to the soldiers they followed with words whispered to one god or another but doomed to be forgotten once the war was done.

Hints of Sansa and Tyrion?

+.+.+

His voice was so soft that the hall grew hushed as men strained to hear. "I am sorry that our good friend Stannis has not seen fit to join us yet," he went on, to a ripple of laughter, "as I know Ramsay had hoped to present his head to Lady Arya as a wedding gift." The laughs grew louder. "We shall give him a splendid welcome when he arrives, a welcome worthy of true northmen. Until that day, let us eat and drink and make merry … for winter is almost upon us, my friends, and many of us here shall not live to see the spring."

Lol, he won't say winter is coming. Coward.

+.+.+

The wedding guests gorged on cod cakes and winter squash, hills of neeps and great round wheels of cheese, on smoking slabs of mutton and beef ribs charred almost black, and lastly on three great wedding pies, as wide across as wagon wheels, their flaky crusts stuffed to bursting with carrots, onions, turnips, parsnips, mushrooms, and chunks of seasoned pork swimming in a savory brown gravy. Ramsay hacked off slices with his falchion and Wyman Manderly himself served, presenting the first steaming portions to Roose Bolton and his fat Frey wife, the next to Ser Hosteen and Ser Aenys, the sons of Walder Frey. "The best pie you have ever tasted, my lords," the fat lord declared. "Wash it down with Arbor gold and savor every bite. I know I shall."

True to his word, Manderly devoured six portions, two from each of the three pies, smacking his lips and slapping his belly and stuffing himself until the front of his tunic was half-brown with gravy stains and his beard was flecked with crumbs of crust. Even Fat Walda Frey could not match his gluttony, though she did manage three slices herself. Ramsay ate heartily as well, though his pale bride did no more than stare at the portion set before her.

Jeyne didn't eat it!

Looks like everyone who ate it will die in the story. Poor Walda.

+.+.+

No longswords had been allowed within the hall, but every man there wore a dagger, even Theon Greyjoy. How else to cut his meat? Every time he looked at the girl who had been Jeyne Poole, he felt the presence of that steel at his side. I have no way to save her, he thought, but I could kill her easy enough. No one would expect it. I could beg her for the honor of a dance and cut her throat. That would be a kindness, wouldn't it? And if the old gods hear my prayer, Ramsay in his wroth might strike me dead as well. Theon was not afraid to die. Underneath the Dreadfort, he had learned there were far worse things than death.

Theon has had multiple opportunities to kill himself.

Anyway,

They were not his gods, had never been his gods.

↓

And if the old gods hear my prayer

yeah.

+.+.+

"No taste for pork pie, my lord? The best pork pie we ever tasted, our fat friend would have us believe." She [Barbrey Dustin] gestured toward Lord Manderly with her wine cup. "Have you ever seen a fat man so happy? He is almost dancing. Serving with his own hands."

Barbrey Dustin ate it!

+.+.+

It was true. The Lord of White Harbor was the very picture of the jolly fat man, laughing and smiling, japing with the other lords and slapping them on the back, calling out to the musicians for this tune or that tune. "Give us 'The Night That Ended,' singer," he bellowed. "The bride will like that one, I know. Or sing to us of brave young Danny Flint and make us weep." To look at him, you would have thought that he was the one newly wed.

I don't believe Jeyne will die at the Wall, but I did feel instant dread the second I saw noted pretender Danny Flint's name.

Happy thoughts.

+.+.+

"He's drunk," said Theon.

"Drowning his fears. He is craven to the bone, that one."

Was he? Theon was not certain. His sons had been fat as well, but they had not shamed themselves in battle. "Ironborn will feast before a battle too. A last taste of life, should death await. If Stannis comes …"

"He will. He must." Lady Dustin chuckled. "And when he does, the fat man will piss himself. His son died at the Red Wedding, yet he's shared his bread and salt with Freys, welcomed them beneath his roof, promised one his granddaughter. He even serves them pie. The Manderlys ran from the south once, hounded from their lands and keeps by enemies. Blood runs true. The fat man would like to kill us all, I do not doubt, but he does not have the belly for it, for all his girth. Under that sweaty flesh beats a heart as craven and cringing as … well … yours."

There are two possibilities.

Barbrey Dustin is not a great judge of character. Even looney tune Theon realizes Manderly is not what he appears to be.

or

You can't trust anything Barbrey Dustin is saying, because she knows Theon is Ramsay and Roose's pet.

+.+.+

"You think Roose does not know? Silly boy. Watch him. Watch how he watches Manderly. No dish so much as touches Roose's lips until he sees Lord Wyman eat of it first. No cup of wine is sipped until he sees Manderly drink of the same cask. I think he would be pleased if the fat man attempted some betrayal. It would amuse him. Roose has no feelings, you see. Those leeches that he loves so well sucked all the passions out of him years ago. He does not love, he does not hate, he does not grieve. This is a game to him, mildly diverting. Some men hunt, some hawk, some tumble dice. Roose plays with men. You and me, these Freys, Lord Manderly, his plump new wife, even his bastard, we are but his playthings." A serving man was passing by. Lady Dustin held out her wine cup and let him fill it, then gestured for him to do the same for Theon. "Truth be told," she said, "Lord Bolton aspires to more than mere lordship. Why not King of the North? Tywin Lannister is dead, the Kingslayer is maimed, the Imp is fled. The Lannisters are a spent force, and you were kind enough to rid him of the Starks. Old Walder Frey will not object to his fat little Walda becoming a queen. White Harbor might prove troublesome should Lord Wyman survive this coming battle … but I am quite sure that he will not. No more than Stannis. Roose will remove both of them, as he removed the Young Wolf. Who else is there?"

"You," said Theon. "There is you. The Lady of Barrowton, a Dustin by marriage, a Ryswell by birth."

That pleased her. She took a sip of wine, her dark eyes sparkling, and said, "The widow of Barrowton … and yes, if I so choose, I could be an inconvenience. Of course, Roose sees that too, so he takes care to keep me sweet."

Tywin's mistake is believing Ramsay is his plaything.

Two takeaways,

Barbrey Dustin has the power to ruin Roose Bolton. We knew that.

It's a black mark against her the second it's revealed she has ambitions for power.

White Harbor might prove troublesome should Lord Wyman survive this coming battle … but I am quite sure that he will not.

Dot, dot, dot.

I am quite sure he will!

He'll definitely die. Later.

+.+.+

As Maester Medrick went to one knee to whisper in Bolton's ear, Lady Dustin's mouth twisted in distaste. "If I were queen, the first thing I would do would be to kill all those grey rats. They scurry everywhere, living on the leavings of the lords, chittering to one another, whispering in the ears of their masters. But who are the masters and who are the servants, truly? Every great lord has his maester, every lesser lord aspires to one. If you do not have a maester, it is taken to mean that you are of little consequence. The grey rats read and write our letters, even for such lords as cannot read themselves, and who can say for a certainty that they are not twisting the words for their own ends? What good are they, I ask you?"

"They heal," said Theon. It seemed to be expected of him.

"They heal, yes. I never said they were not subtle. They tend to us when we are sick and injured, or distraught over the illness of a parent or a child. Whenever we are weakest and most vulnerable, there they are. Sometimes they heal us, and we are duly grateful. When they fail, they console us in our grief, and we are grateful for that as well. Out of gratitude we give them a place beneath our roof and make them privy to all our shames and secrets, a part of every council. And before too long, the ruler has become the ruled.

Replace the word maester with Dr. Fauci and this becomes a standard Facebook post from your unhinged aunt.

This is what anti-intellectualism looks like in the world of ASoIaF, and I know George doesn't fuck with it.

+.+.+

"That was how it was with Lord Rickard Stark. Maester Walys was his grey rat's name. And isn't it clever how the maesters go by only one name, even those who had two when they first arrived at the Citadel? That way we cannot know who they truly are or where they come from … but if you are dogged enough, you can still find out. Before he forged his chain, Maester Walys had been known as Walys Flowers. Flowers, Hill, Rivers, Snow … we give such names to baseborn children to mark them for what they are, but they are always quick to shed them. 

We interrupt these nutty ramblings to remind you she hates Ramsay Snow. That's what makes Barbrey Dustin such a wild card!

The problem is Jon is also a Snow.

+.+.+

Walys Flowers had a Hightower girl for a mother … and an archmaester of the Citadel for a father, it was rumored. The grey rats are not as chaste as they would have us believe. Oldtown maesters are the worst of all. Once he forged his chain, his secret father and his friends wasted no time dispatching him to Winterfell to fill Lord Rickard's ears with poisoned words as sweet as honey. The Tully marriage was his notion, never doubt it, he—"

It's been almost twenty years.

She sounds half-mad. I can't put my faith in this woman. I don't even want her on Team Stark.

Is Walys Flowers important? Why am I being told all this?

Edit: Apparently there's a theory he's Archmaester Walgrave's son. I couldn't tell you why that's important.

+.+.+

As the Lord of the Dreadfort slipped out, attended by the three maesters, other lords and captains rose to follow. Hother Umber, the gaunt old man called Whoresbane, went grim-faced and scowling. Lord Manderly was so drunk he required four strong men to help him from the hall. "We should have a song about the Rat Cook," he was muttering, as he staggered past Theon, leaning on his knights. "Singer, give us a song about the Rat Cook."

+.+.+

"There's my sweet maid. Good lads. You may leave us now. Not you, Reek. You stay."

Reek, Reek, it rhymes with peek. He could feel his missing fingers cramping: two on his left hand, one on his right. And on his hip his dagger rested, sleeping in its leather sheath, but heavy, oh so heavy. It is only my pinky gone on my right hand, Theon reminded himself. I can still grip a knife.

See? Arya's fine.

+.+.+

"No." Lord Ramsay poured himself a cup of wine. "Laces take too long. Cut it off her."

Theon drew the dagger. All I need do is turn and stab him. The knife is in my hand. He knew the game by then. Another trap, he told himself, remembering Kyra with her keys. He wants me to try to kill him. And when I fail, he'll flay the skin from the hand I used to hold the blade. 

If you're not going to use it, could you give it to me?

I'm not going to cover the next part in great detail.

+.+.+

Ramsay smiled his wet smile. "Does she make your cock hard, Reek? Is it straining against your laces? Would you like to fuck her first?" He laughed. "The Prince of Winterfell should have that right, as all lords did in days of old. The first night. But you're no lord, are you? Only Reek. Not even a man, truth be told."

[...]

Ramsay rose, the firelight shining on his face. "Reek, get over here. Get her ready for me."

For a moment he did not understand. "I … do you mean … m'lord, I have no … I …"

. . .

+.+.+

Somewhere in the godswood, a raven screamed. The dagger was still in his hand.

He sheathed it.

Reek, my name is Reek, it rhymes with weak.

Reek bent to his task.

I don't have much to say. I'd like to move on.

Final thoughts:

Catelyn Stark

Her face, Brienne thought. Her face was so strong and handsome, her skin so smooth and soft. - Brienne VIII, AFFC

Barbrey Dustin

Though there were wrinkles at the corners of her mouth and more around her eyes, she still stood tall, unbent, and handsome. Her hair was brown and grey in equal parts and she wore it tied behind her head in a widow's knot. - Reek III, ADWD

See what being a hater does to your face?

That's why I use retinol.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #adwd #the prince of winterfell #theon iv

[daidonzo]

Chapter 1 - Prologue [Chishiya x FemOC!King of Spades]

TW: Swearing, violence

But you need your rotten heart Your dazzling pain like diamond rings You need to go to war to find material to sing I am no mother, I am no bride, I am King

I need my golden crown of sorrow My bloody sword to swing My empty halls to echo with grand self-mythology I am no mother, I am no bride, I am King

Savine Laine wiped the blood on her face with the back of her hands, despectively, little droplets of the crimson red liquid falling to the ground. Tap, tap, tap.

'Game cleared.'

Oh, fucking finally. I thought the bastard wouldn't die. She licked her lips, and looked at what was in front of her. A monster of a man, the top half of his body covered in cheap, tacky tattoos. He had cuts literally everywhere, was missing an eye, a couple of fingers, a few teeth here and there. Me, on the contrary… Savine examined her face with the tip of her fingers. Auch. Bruises were starting to form, but it wasn't that bad.

You're too huge to be actually fast, big boy. He hadn't been able to catch her, not even once, no matter how hard he had tried. She had been able to dodge him with quick, last-second movements he hadn't seen coming. She smiled condescendingly, looking down. Now he was nothing but a corpse.

She had also… Maybe cheated a little bit.

Now, now, they said you couldn't use weapons. How is a wine opener a weapon? It is something every ridiculous, bored-out-of-her-mind housewife should have with her at all times. The object was sticking out of the man's throat. Whatever, if they haven't lasered me yet, it's because they approved. At the very least, they found it funny. She giggled to herself, pushing back her blonde locks.

And now what?

Fireworks.

Charming.

'Now all surviving players will be given a choice. Please select whether you will accept permanent residence in this land or if you will not accept it.'

She raised both eyebrows, the ghost of the smile still on her lips. She hadn't considered this possibility. She rubbed her chin, thoughtfully.

Do I want to go back to the real world? Can I even go back to the real world after the person I have become? She had always been ruthless, both in life and business. She had never been considered a good person. She always had everything she desired. And what I didn't have, I still took.

Men loved her. Loved to fuck her, loved to have her on their arm and show her around. Long legs, perfect figure maintained by training in the gym twice a day five days a week, blonde wavy hair that reached the middle of her back, brown, haunting eyes, full lips and a round, small nose. She was a dream. Men loved her, and women envied her, being nice to her face but talking shit behind her back. As if I cared.

The only thing I care about, is me. Savine was the perfect description of self-obsession. As far as she recalled, she hadn't cared about anybody's feelings for a long time, now. She worked hard on herself, and only herself. And it pays off. She went off to university when she was fourteen years old and had her degree by the time she was seventeen. She was a portent, working for one of the biggest companies in the world. Not because I really care, they just pay well.

Regarding everyone else… The people in Savine's life were pawns. Or better yet, chess figures, not all of them of equal unimportance, that she could arrange and play with as she desired. That she could use to score points. There was nobody permanent in her life, and anybody who dared enter it, she made sure they understood one thing - You are disposable. You all are.

I was already like this in the real world.

It has only gotten worse.

Savine's stay at the Borderlands had left a trail of corpses behind her. People she had manipulated, coerced and used at her will. Little, useless marionettes she held the strings to. Since she had arrived, she, in herself, had become natural disaster, leaving only destruction behind her. Her being the sole survivor.

I'd say I wasn't proud of it, but I'd be lying. I just don't care.

Why am I like this?

She pressed her lips together, ready to give her answer.

'I accept it.'

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

'You, my dear, are the perfect Queen of Spades.'

Savine sprang to her feet, throwing the chair she had been sitting in to the floor without ceremony. She hit the table with her hand, furious, pointing a finger at the woman that had spoken.

'Who the fuck do you think you are!? I'm not the fucking Queen of anything!' She hissed. She got closer to her. Was Mira her name? 'I will not be given a second place. I have never been second at anything. I could beat that man you just appointed King of Spades with my eyes closed.'

The woman studied her for a few minutes.

'Prove it.' She said simply.

Savine just walked towards the bald, ugly, scarred man that had just taken the title she so deeply desired. He was already leaving the room. He had a gun strapped to his chest and back. Before he could react, she took the latter, and pointed it to the back of his face.

This man, however, was a trained soldier. He turned around, quick, and grabbed her by the arm.

'What do you think you are doing?' He was stronger than her. And also, much quicker than she had thought. But ah, he likes to play fair. I don't.

She spit at his eyes, butted him in the face, and stabbed him in the stomach with her free hand, now holding a pocket knife. She didn't get the knife out of him, but slashed his skin in a wide, sweeping movement.

The man tried to hit her, howling in pain, but she was faster, and kneed him on the crotch.

Then, once he was on his knees, she pulled the trigger, blood splashing her face and clothes. Fuck, again.

'I really hope whatever fantastic idea you had with him didn't involve any kind of physical combat.'

'It didn't. He was a sniper.' Mira answered, uninterested.

Emphasis on was.

Savine turned towards her, showing her teeth in a smile that didn't reach the eyes.

'So, about me becoming the King of Spades…'

She stood up, towering over the woman. She refused to sit down, to bow down.

She was above everything, above everyone else.

If other people were nothing but chess pieces in her board, she was the greatest of them all.

She was the King.

#chishiya fanfic #chishiya angst #chishiya #chishiya x oc #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya fic #chishiya aib #aib chishiya #chishiya x original character #shuntaro chishiya #i am king