#and if that hope is severed I think he'll straight up just have a panic attack

[nonbinarynightcrawler]

got myself a little bit for real fucked up thinking too hard about my imaginary little guy getting to imaginary little situations

[cntloup]

UndergroundBoxer!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader angst, violence, arguments

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

moodboard | face

You walk through the threshold of the old, rusty building. Walking alone in a neighborhood like this at night was not a good idea and you know that he would scold you, but you would shut him up with a sweet kiss and his favorite drink. That would work, right?

As you walk along the hallway, the ruckus and uproar of the already-drunk people inside reach your ears and the smell of alcohol and sweat hit your nose.

There are all kinds of people here; people you should never encounter in your life as your loving boyfriend mentions to you every night, but you didn’t budge this time. You've asked him multiple times to take you to one of his fights. You've heard various stories about how the infamous Ghost has absolutely demolished his opponent once again, and you’re finally here to see it up close.

You make your way through the crowd, trying not to get hit in the face by the cheering mob who have their hands up into fists and not to slip on the liquid which you hope is beer and knock yourself out or get kicked and stepped on. You finally make it to the front row intact and let out a sigh of relief.  

As your boyfriend makes his way to the ring, you start whistling and cheering at the top of your lungs. He still hasn’t seen you. Then his competitor steps in and your jaw drops. He's fucking huge... maybe even more than Simon. No, definitely more.

As you watch them stand in front of each other and the referee in between them, the truth dawns on you. There are no rules in the underground world. He might get severely injured... or worse. ‘FUCK! No, he won’t. He'll get out of it unharmed.’ you think to yourself and gather your thoughts, taking deep breaths as you try to calm yourself.

You go through every emotion in existence as they fight, wince and gasp loudly every time Simon takes a punch. You try to reach for him and even get inside the ring when he takes a nasty hit to the head. That's when he notices your presence and calls out your name as the security prevents you from getting inside the ring. “Oi! Fuck off! Don’t fucking touch my girl!” he shouts at them and comes to your side and takes your hand in his “It’s ok, lovie. I’m fine.” “But- but-” you can’t get the words out through your sobs as you stare at him in shock. “I’m ok. I promise.” he wipes your tears and lets go of your hand after the referee blows in his whistle and the final round begins.  

Multiple punches are thrown to the faces and heads and various limbs by the fighters, angry roars and shocked gasps are heard from the crowd. The match finally ends and Simon is introduced as the champion. He quickly starts to exit the ring after they present him with the championship belt. You make your way straight to him and you both meet halfway.

You collapse into his arms and start sobbing, finally getting the emotions out after experiencing so much anxiety and nearly having a panic attack. “It’s ok, love. Let it all out.” he repeats the words as he gently rubs your back. He knows it must have been very difficult for you to watch him not only fight but get beaten several times, some of them pretty serious.

You pull away “Are you ok?” “Yes, love. I'm fine. I've taken worse punches before. It was nothing.” “FUCK! Simon, you got hit in the fucking head. Don't try to play it down. You should get it checked out by a doctor. And don’t fucking think me knowing you’ve taken worse hits, makes me feel better somehow.” you reply angrily, your gaze throwing daggers at him. “Love, again, I’m fine-” “You don’t know that.” you cut him off. He places a kiss on your forehead and responds “Of course I’ll get it checked out. We have a doctor here. I’m gonna go into the backroom to let him do the tests, then I’ll meet you here, ok?” “Ok.” you mutter and he leaves to meet the doctor.  

You wait for him as you think about what you just saw, let it sink in that it is his job. And it wil make you even more worried whenever he leaves for a match now that you have witnessed the extent of the violence yourself.

He finally comes out of the room, dressed in his black jeans and hoodie. “It all went well. I’m fine. Really. Just a few minor injuries.” “Minor you say-” “The doctor said that.” “Ok, then.” you let out a sigh of relief.

“Wait! You didn’t walk here, did you?” he asks as he wonders how you got here since he’s got the car. “...I kind of did.” “You kind o-” he starts to get upset. He pinches the bridge of his nose and brushes a hand across his face in frustration and anger. “You didn’t take an uber? You fucking walked here? How fucking stupid are you? Huh?!” he starts getting in your face and you back away, biting your lip in fear. “I thought I told you not to fucking come in here at all. Do you ever listen to me? Why did you have to come? To see me get beaten half to death? Are you fucking happy now?” “So is this about your ego? Me seeing you in a vulnerable state as you take hits after hits upsets you? Or are you really worried about me? After watching this goddamn match which will leave a scar on my mind for sure and after almost having an anxiety attack over you, this is how you treat me?” you start to bite back. “Don’t fucking twist my words like that. Of course I’m worried about you. No, I don’t give a fuck about my ego. It's not about that at all. And watching the match was your own choice. I've told you not to come a thousand times but you don’t fucking listen!” he bears his teeth at you as he punches the wall beside your head, making you flinch at his outburst and close your eyes out of fear.

comments/reblogs are greatly appreciated ♥ 

A/N: I may or may not post a part 2 for this :')

[taliesin-19]

Random Fact (scene) of the Week: September 1st edition

"Just breathe, you've got nothing to be afraid of. We'll all be here for you, and we'll be proud of you no matter what happens."

"Oi! Who's the one going off to Hogwarts, here?" James said, pushing past them all and making his way casually through the barrier to platform 9 and 3/4.

Abby let out a little squeak. "He doesn't have to be so blase about it," she said, looking at Harry with a frown.

"Ignore him," Harry said, directing her towards the brick wall. "Why don't you take Al's hand, yeah? He'll guide you through."

Harry squeezed the boy's shoulder, then watched as Al led Abby gently towards the brick wall before abruptly tugging on her arm and sprinting towards it.

"She's totally going to kill me for that later, isn't she?" Harry told Lily as Abby's scream evaporated into thin air.

"Eh, once she's seen the train, she'll get over it," Lily said with a wave of her hand. "That's how it goes every year with Teddy."

The first time Abby had tagged along to see Teddy off to Hogwarts, the entrance to the platform had unlocked a fear in her that she hadn't known she possessed.

"I guess I just don't like running straight at brick walls!" she'd exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air after coming down from a mini panic attack.

"You three, go with Grandmum and Teddy, we'll meet you there--and stop laughing James, this isn't funny," Harry said as Abby took several deep breaths.

It took a lot of coaxing, a lot of breathing, and a lot of encouragement, but Harry had learned to always leave the house an extra twenty minutes early every 1st of September.

Abby had offered plenty of times to stay behind, but he knew it was only because she hated being a bother. The look on her face whenever she saw the Hogwarts Express was enough to make Harry forcibly bring her along each year. And she'd never forgive herself if she didn't see Teddy, and now James, off for the year.

And besides, she was getting better about it. She hasn't even hyperventilated this year.

"Come on, flower, you're up," Harry said.

"Can we leave James at Hogwarts for the winter and summer holidays, too?" she said, over her shoulder.

"I'll consider it."

Lily grinned.

They both knew they'd be counting down the days till December, but if Harry spent too much time thinking about it, he might just break down into a panic attack himself.

When he was a kid, he'd never given a second thought to what everyone else might feel like, standing on platform 9 and 3/4, watching the train leave.

Hogwarts was his escape, the train was a beacon of hope and freedom.

But as an adult, he dreaded the sight of it.

Through the barrier and onto the platform, he watched as one by one, everyone bid James and Teddy farewell. It was Teddy's final year at Hogwarts. And the fact that he'd be there during James' first year was just about the only thing that prevented Harry from calling this all off together.

He pulled Teddy aside and gave him a long hug. "Have fun, Mr Head Boy," he said, causing Teddy to grin. "They'd be so proud of you, you know. Especially Remus. Tonks, well...she'd probably call you a nerd."

Teddy laughed and looked down.

"But she'd also be really proud," Harry said with a wink. "As am I. Ridiculously so."

"I know," Teddy said. "And before you say anything. Don't worry. I'll watch out for the little bugger. I promise, Harry."

Harry swallowed hard and nodded, squeezing Teddy's shoulder. "I know he'll forget to write to me tonight. Can you just let me know what House he's in?"

Teddy nodded. "I'll let you know as soon as he gets into Gryffindor."

"Oi, don't jinx it," Harry said before giving Teddy one last hug.

With a long exhale, Harry then went to find James, his heart heavy in his chest.

The rest of the family subtly moved away as he approached, for which he was grateful.

"How are you feeling, mate?" Harry said, crouching down so they were at eye level.

"Good," James said with a shrug. "Freddie's saved me a seat. Oh, that reminds me, can I have some extra money for sweets? Freddie said that Uncle George said that there's a trolley lady that turns into a carnivorous bird who attacks you if you try to leave the train, but she also sells a bunch of different sweets and if you buy some, you'll be on her good side."

Harry sighed. "There's money in the pocket of your trunk, don't waste it all on sweets."

James grinned and went in for a hug. "Okay, bye, Dad!"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Harry said, pulling him back before he could leave. "That's it? Just 'bye, Dad'? I'm not gonna see you for several months, you know."

With a small groan, James relented. "I'll write to you, okay? And besides Teddy will be there. And Fred. And Vic. And Dom. And Alice--"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Harry said. "I'm gonna miss you, is all. But...I want you to have fun. And stay out of trouble, make friends, and just...just make good choices."

James stared at him as if he'd grown another head. "Sure, Dad, I'll do that," he said before going in for another hug. "I'll miss you, too."

Harry closed his eyes and squeezed the boy tight, willing the moment to last forever.

"Love you, Jamie," he said.

"Love you, too, Dad."

After finally letting go, Harry took hold of the boy's trunk and helped him load it on the train.

A few upper year Ravenclaws were passing by, but when they spotted Harry, they stopped abruptly in the corridor and stared openly.

James snorted. "Bye, Dad!" he said in a loud voice. "I'm so glad you could take time out of your busy schedule saving the world to see me off today."

The Ravenclaws erupted into furious whispers as they continued their paths to their compartments.

"That'll get old real quick," Harry said.

James shrugged. "Might as well give them what they want. It's fun to see their reactions."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You've been spending too much time with Abby."

"Should've thought about that before you married her," James said, patting him on the shoulder. "Anyway...guess I should be going."

With a nod, Harry stood up with a long sigh. "You better write me tonight. Even if it's just to say what House you're in."

"I will, Dad."

"Otherwise I'll come to Hogwarts myself--"

"Dad."

Harry winked. "Have fun," he said. "I'll see you at Christmas."

James paused for a moment, his face pinching into a small frown. He then hurried over to Harry and gave him once last, bone-crushing hug, before running down the corridor.

With a smile, Harry met the rest of the family on the platform and waved goodbye till the last carriage of the train disappeared from sight.

[pizza-games-and-more]

Pizza Tower Headcanons: Comfort

While I have stopped accepting headcanon requests, I will still post ones I thought of on my own. So here's my headcanons for how the Pizza Tower cast comfort people they care about because I'm coping and due to illness and seasonal depression I want to imagine this, okay?

Peppino: He doesn't know what to do, but he tries anyway because he knows what it's like to be in their shoes. If it's anything severe, like a panic attack, he uses his knowledge of what to do in that situation to help them. If someone else was responsible for their anguish, he will head over and beat the shit out of the ones responsible.

Gustavo and Brick: They always comfort their loved ones together, with Gustavo acting as a shoulder to cry on and Brick snuggling up to them in an attempt to cheer them up. If anyone was responsible for their anguish, Gustavo "jokes" about killing the ones responsible for it, while Brick looks genuinely concerned about that.

Mr. Stick: He doesn't fully know how to help, but he'll hear them out. He lets them come by and vent to him even if he can't offer any advice, and if anyone was responsible for their anguish, he makes insulting remarks towards the ones responsible in an attempt to cheer them up.

Pepperman: You know him, he'll of course be hearing every word and reacting very strongly to show how much he cares. He will also give the most encouraging words to them to improve their self-esteem. If anyone was responsible, he'll repeat something his parents taught him when he was younger to explain a possible reason why while stressing that it was not the affected party's fault in any way, since it worked for him. And then he'll punch that douche in the face.

The Vigilante: The very first thing he asks is if anyone was responsible, and if they say yes, he makes it clear that person will be paying the price. After that, however, Vigi is surprisingly gentle. He gives words of reassurance, patches up their wounds if they have any, and tries to distract them from the situation with a story if they're okay with that.

The Noise: Now this one is interesting. obviously he's going to get back at whoever hurt them if someone was responsible. However, if no one was, it's more complicated. At first, he'll try to distract them with something funny, but if that doesn't work, he's completely lost on how to help them. He's surprisingly unconfident in this, so he'll just end up leaving them be in hopes they sort their feelings out on their own.

Noisette: This ray of sunshine will do everything she can to cheer them up. Doing something funny, distracting with a work story, giving them a pep talk, reassuring them, and if anyone was responsible, she will do whatever she can to make them apologise to them. She will not give up until the person she cares about is happy again, no matter how many times and methods it takes.

Fake Peppino: Talking obviously won't work coming from him, so he specialises in physical comfort. He will give his sad friend a hug and pat them affectionately. If someone was responsible, he gets very protective of the person affected and if he ever sees the person that hurt them, he will drive them off one way or another.

Pizzahead: Anyone he cares about enough to comfort should feel very lucky because it's very rare for him to care about anyone other than himself that much. He basically spoils them whenever they're upset, and if anyone was responsible, he decides to get revenge on them, ranging from harmless pranking to straight up murder depending on what he thinks is funnier at the time.

[starry-snippets]

Hi! I was hoping I could get a matchup! I've only seen the first 3 episodes of JJBA part 1 so far so I need a character that I can look forward to rooting for no matter what happens. I don't mind what part they come from.

Name: Eren

Pronouns: She/Her

Sexuality: Straight

Zodiac Sign: Gemini

MBTI: INFJ

Personality: I'm pretty quiet in social settings but if someone talks to me first, I can keep a conversation going. I will occasionally go up to someone to initial a conversation but not very often.

With people that I'm close with, I'm very open and sarcastic. And I make a lot of self-depreciating jokes (even though I have a high self worth).

Likes: Reading, writing, anime, video games, Marvel, and listening to music (stuff like Hamilton, Panic! at the Disco and Offspring).

Dislikes: Spiders (deathly afraid of those), being forgotten when I'm gone, and disappointing those who I care about.

Looks: I'm 164cm (5'4") and have an average build (not too curvy but definitely not straight up and down). I have green eyes that everyone thinks are brown and curly/frizzy dark brown hair that is just below my shoulders.

Extra Info: I'm at university and am majoring in English and Writing. I regularly get distinctions and high distinctions with my assignments and have very high expectations for myself. I want to be a published author and have written several manuscripts.

Hopefully I've put a good amount of the right information and I hope the rest of your day goes well for you!

sorry for the delay here! i hope you've enjoyed jjba so far and this matchup!! @justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms also feel free to tell me if you like these characters when you've gotten to their parts! (pt 2 and pt 4)

MY FIRST THOUGHT WAS CAESAR!

☆ caesar would love talking to you! the way you don't talk over him and how you really listen to the deeper things he has to say, as many people stop listening once the bold flirting has concluded. he wouldn't force you to talk either, despite his own extroverted nature, caesar knows how to respect your wishes to be in silence if that's what you want! ☆ you two make a lot of jokes when you chat, and he really likes how you have a witty comment to all his snips. it's like he's met his equal when it comes to clever commentary and it's unfortunate for joseph whenever you two decide to include him in the banter. caesar likes that you're sarcastic and despite making depreciating jokes (which worried him at first) he knows you actually don't believe what you're saying (he does take the time to make sure you know those jokes aren't true) ☆ caesar LOVES that you appreciate music! listen to mamma mia! with him he's so enthralled. isn't ashamed at all to reenact scenes from musicals, especially the ones that involve him getting to be a gentleman. he'd sing along with you after minimal coaxing since he wants you to have to ask, but won't make you beg ☆ if you'd let him, caesar would read to you. it doesn't matter if it's text about how hummingbirds fly or the most eccentric young adult novel, he'd like to share the story with you by reading it to you. his voice is smooth and calming, and he loves the intimacy of sitting besides you while you read together (he's not there for the book, he's there for you) ☆ caesar isn't a fan of bugs but he doesn't actively hate them. he'd rather not deal with them, but he will purely so he can tease you a bit for being scared. he'll play it up, act like he's a hero saving you from a beast, when really he's just trapping it in a bubble before luring it outside

☆ your fears (besides bugs) line up too. caesar understands the fear of being forgotten - the fear of letting people down - too much. if you ever have nightmares about it or just need his reassurance he is there for you. he doesn't just understand, he feels it immensely. it hurts him that you hold the same fears, as it's an intense pain imagining it for himself and he knows it hurts you too. caesar wants to help in anyway he can ☆ he thinks your eyes are the most captivating, priceless, and mystical green eyes he's ever seen. he loves the way that depending on what you wear they look more brown, but caesar always finds himself lost in the shades of emerald, jade, and jasper that always twinkle at him. his favorite body part is likely your eyes, as he loves the expressions that you show him whenever you're together ☆ caesar LOVES your hair. he loves to play with your hair, loves to style it if you let him. you remind him of italy and of nature, with your green eyes and curly hair. caesar loves whenever you cuddle because you're shorter, as he can successfully be the big spoon and whenever he holds you close he can feel the softness of your pretty curls ☆ caesar loves to listen to you read your own stories to him. the way your voice becomes animated, how you may even change your voice when there's dialogue. he views it as you opening up part of your heart to him and he'll be damned if he doesn't take care of it ☆ in conclusion, caesar enjoys how you two differ in interests and behavior but have reached an understanding. you bring out the best in each other, and you accept the worst. it's like your best friends first, lovers second; perhaps evenly split

MY SECOND THOUGHT IS ROHAN!

☆ he's a shit and he's evil and he LOVES you. loves that he can get a rise out of you but you have something to say back. rohan is so intrigued by your calculated comebacks within seconds. he feels like he's finally met someone who can challenge him ☆ if you make a self depreciating joke he's playing it up most likely. he will do things like agree, or say stuff like "you're being too nice to yourself!" but only once you've gotten closer. close enough where you both know you can throw it at each other, where you both understand you have self worth that isn't impacted by the stupid comments of a smartassy friend ☆ rohan can't stand when you put on musicals and says he'll rather listen to nails on a chalkboard. but you know he's lying and he knows it too. rohan listens to your favorite musicals while he works out since running on a treadmill is a mindless activity for him. it's true he's not into it, but a smile comes on his face whenever he listens to "guns and ships" and he imagines you missing the timing during the rapid rapping ☆ really appreciates your eyes. the color, the shape, the emotion. rohan would convince you to let him do eye studies with them as a reference. likely when he's falling in love with you or when you've begun dating, either way he wants an excuse to sketch every single detail and bring it to life so he'll always be able to appreciate this part of you, even when he's gone (rohan hangs it up because he's "just proud of the drawing") ☆ pokes fun at you being scared of spiders. he doesn't mind them as we've seen, but he'll act like it's a big deal to take care of one that's bothering you. it'd be better off not to tell him in all honesty. with your other fears though, rohan understands and reassures you that no matter what he could never forget you. he tells you often that if you die before him (he just about prays you won't) he'll make the most beautiful art out of your ashes, and rohan truly means that ☆ rohan also loves drawing you, all of you, because of your hair. he likes to try new things and drawing your curls was originally difficult but after sketches upon sketches he's mastered inking your hair texture. you better not doubt if they look as beautiful as they're drawn, because he doesn't lie in his art ☆ makes fun of your height! despite making fun of it, he does love how the difference comes in handy when you're cuddling or when he's trying to annoy you a bit. he's immature, but he does know how to respect whenever you've had enough or how to console you if he goes too far ☆ he loves that you love to read and write. if you're a fan of his he'll be even more elated and have such an ego boost. don't even tell him his head is already inflated so big it's in the clouds. but also do tell him, because he'll sign all your copies and actually leave heartfelt messages (and a few stupid remarks) ☆ cares so much about your manuscripts. if you show him any of them he'll treasure it. he may act like it's not a big deal, but you can tell in the way he listens and provides feedback that he truly does care, and your happiness about it is why he's happy while you read. secretly loves when you give him feedback too, even when he acts like he won't possibly need it ☆ in conclusion, you two make each other better creators. you also keep each other in check, rohan needing it more than you... but still. rohan would go through so much for you and he may be a bit of a smarmy jerk, but he's more of a lovesick artist who's finally found his muse more than anything else

[disheveledorganization]

intro

contacted a second divorce lawyer today. the first one never responded, so i'm hoping to at least hear back from this one.

i'm putting this post (and if any others i might make) under a cut because i don't want them reblogged and i don't want them saved if i should decided to delete them later on. hopefully that's a thing still.

i want to say that i'm not sure how my marriage got to this point, but i do know. communication breakdown! reaching out for connection and being rejected! lying! drinking! and the icing on that cake: financial infidelity.

my soon to be ex-husband has at minimum $15k in cc debt that i didn't know about, and probably more. like there's a strong possibility that he ran up some ccs (and then paid them off?) without me knowing. and to pile more shit on top of shit, he (his business - an s corp) owes the irs like $300k. i had a full blown panic attack when i found out. and i only found out because the irs sent a certified letter to the house. this has been going on for years and i had no idea. and i can't get a straight answer out of him. first he said the irs thing had been going on for 3 months, then he said 3 years.

we have children, pets, a house, and i haven't worked in more than a decade because i've been homeschooling our kids.

(please, before anyone says anything about homeschooling freaks, i have trans kids with autism, adhd, severe depression, among some minor physical issues that call for regular doctor appts out of town, so. public school would be a dumpster fire.)

i'm currently taking college courses in the hopes of some sort of career. no, idk how i'll homeschool my kids and work. but i'll figure it out. i have the support of my parents and sister. and an extended family who will be there for me. and my friends.

i've told him i want a divorce. he said he's been expecting it for 10 years. blew my mind. he said he wants me to keep homeschooling the kids. that he'll move out of the house. that he'll keep paying bills. but then he hasn't really talked to me about it since then. i'm hoping for a collaborative divorce where we work through it while keeping the kids our priority. i don't want this to get messy.

yes, i'm in therapy. i started going because of my severe anxiety and depression, but i'll continue seeing my therapist through this and beyond. yes, my kids are in therapy. i thought it might be good for them to form a relationship with a therapist before the shit hits the fan.

and, just to be clear, the $ isn't the only reason for this divorce. i've tried everything, even couples counseling, which he stopped attending. he started pulling away from me about 10 years ago, which is odd to think about when he says that's when he started expecting me to leave him. and he does things sometimes that just...... he lied and told my youngest that i'd taken his sister to the emergency room because she was much sicker than we originally thought (i'd taken her to cvs for cold meds). this was his idea of a joke. my child was frightened and shocked, and he insisted it was 'just a joke' over and over.

he is not physically abusive. i'm not afraid of him. and i honestly believe that he cares about and loves the kids. he's just emotionally stunted and refuses help.

this got long. hopefully any updates will be shorter.

[pandas-pandemonium]

Yandere! Sentient! Twst - Player considers deleting the game due to glitches (Dorm Leaders)

A/N: Thought I'd combine these three asks since they're all quite similar in nature.

"[Name], I really think you should just delete that game off your phone."

The sternness in your partner's voice stunned you. They had mentioned the game acting strange at times, but this was the first time they had confronted you on this issue. Confused, you spoke up.

"Is this about the weird glitches again, [S/O]?" you asked.

"Yes, this is about those weird glitches. I swear, this isn't some simple bug or anything. This is another thing entirely. A game character doesn't curse at you just for opening the app. Shouldn't it be some welcome line or something?"

You frowned.

"I've never heard anything like that..." you said.

They sighed and shook their head. "It only happens when I open the app when you ask me to help you login."

You felt a chill run down your back.

"There's...no way, right?" you said, as you slowly unlocked your phone, immediately clicking on the application. You had to see it for your own, even though deep down you knew [s/o] was right. The game had been acting strange. Comments that were way too specific, the occasional glitching when you switched out a character for another.

With wary eyes you glanced at the opening screen; one more check, one more log in and if anything weird happens again, you will have to delete it. Sentimentality and story progress be damned. You could always watch videos on YouTube anyway.

Riddle

Livid. Riddle would be absolutely livid to hear the suggestion of you deleting the game.

"How DARE they! How insolent! They think know so much better, now do they?!"

Storming around, Riddle would be figuring out how to "chop off" your significant other's head. He won't have it!

He's put up with the fact that you're in a relationship because he convinced himself it wouldn't last long, but now this is the last straw.

"They're trying to cut me off from [Name]! For that, they WILL pay!"

But first, he has to make sure things run smoothly.

You won't delete the game if nothing odd happens...

With that, [s/o] will just look like a liar. How awful!

Once Riddle's calmed down, he will start creating a plan to cut your s/o out of your life, forever.

"I simply will not tolerate a rule breaker, and it so happens, Rule #444 states that "the heads of liars must be chopped off by midnight". That's really too bad, isn't it, [s/o's name]?"

Leona

What's this? You're actually listening to your partner and now you want to delete the game?

He would love to see you try

Sure, he could sit back and pretend that the game is all fine and dandy so that you'll think your partner was lying and being petty, but that's boring, even if it is the easier way

You forget, he's the dorm leader of Savannaclaw; known for his drive to do what it takes to get his way

Don't you remember his plan from Chapter 2?

How offensive. [s/o name] is definitely taking way too much of your time if you managed to forget his role in the story

"You want to delete the app, do you? Then try it, herbivore. I'm sure you love what I've done to your phone."

Leona is smart, dangerously so. Whoever knew Savannaclaw's dorm leader was so well-versed with game code?

Azul

What?! You're going to delete the game?!

Panic surges through Azul as he combs through various alternate plans; it's okay, he's considered this possibility before

All he needs to do is craft a perfect plan to keep you from deleting the application, and to get that pesky human away from you!

It should be simple enough, but his fear clouds his judgment

Right, right! He has to address the immediate concern; that you were going to delete if you sensed something amiss again in the app

That's simple enough.

As long as he plays by the rules and keeps to the "character" the game developers originally intended, he'll be able to delay you, just by a few days

With a practiced smile, and lines that fit perfectly to script, he laughs to himself quietly;

Yes, you seem to be confused for nothing is out of place!

He may have to keep up this constricting act for now, but his plan has to be perfect if he's going to capture you.

Kalim

Oh, the poor boy

He's panicking! His mind is all over the place the moment he heard your words!

Thankfully Jamil is there to set him straight

"Act normal" Jamil instructed him.

Easier said than done, especially when it comes to someone as jumpy and excitable as Kalim

Kalim tries not to laugh a little too loudly or make remarks that shouldn't be in his lines, but it's so hard!

He wants to yell out, "You can't! You can't leave me!"

But his fear of you realizing that the game is no longer working as it should overpowers his desire to call out to you

It's so hard...

Maybe tomorrow he can tell you how he feels! You're sure to have calmed down by then!

Vil

Really now?

You were going to delete the game all because someone told you to? You're willing to sacrifice all that hard work raising his everyone's cards and throw them all away?

Preposterous!

He will not let even your finger touch the uninstall button! Ever.

Gaining sentience was a dream come true!

He too, had been working behind the scenes to find ways to bring you into this world.

Your lover? You mean that useless potato scrap that thinks they know better?

They mean nothing to Vil. After all, surely you would choose a queen over some peasant?

Idia

Strangely enough, he's not too worried.

Seriously, gaining Fourth Wall breaking sentience was like something out of an anime or a game!

This is his realm! You can't possibly do anything to it when he's tampered so much with the game code!

Try it!

You'll find your game uninstallable and registered as a default application for your phone!

Idia feels a little too proud of himself for forseeing this possibility. He's never been so prepared in his life!

"Hihihi, it's all in place! So what if the game continues glitching? You can't do anything about it! Hihihi, who would have thought even some shut-in nobody freak like me can do cool things!"

But right- he almost forgot about your partner...

How annoying. Game code he can deal with, but some irl person? No way...

"Ahh, what a pain... I need to hurry up with the program...then maybe you can leave that dumb normie behind..."

Malleus

You want to delete the game because it's acting weird, you say?

Malleus is disappointed; he was hoping he could enjoy your presence and watching you go about your daily life for a little longer.

It's alright though, he just has to speed things up a bit!

He could care less about you deleting the game;

With Lilia's help, he's found a way to creep in to your phone and has since been existing as an undetectable character within several other applications.

A little longer and he's completely certain his magic will be able to transport into your world.

How exciting!

When he does, he hopes you will celebrate with him as well.

If you won't invite him to your world... well, he'll just have to invite himself, wouldn't he?

[umaruwastaken]

I wont leave you, I'm sorry. [short fluff & angst]

: hi, I'm Umaru! im very new to Tumblr and still don't know my way around the app, im pretty sure im missing something with the editing so if you have tips please do tell me :], enjoy!

Synopsis; Clay had announced his relationship with his partner,it was well until you received severe hate, clay was keeping in the anger and accidentally let it out on you.

!!TW!!:Shouting, cursing, panic attack.

↱💚Dream💚↰

→ You tucked your hair out of your face, staring intently in the ceiling... this week isn't the best week for you and your boyfriend.

everything started when he had told his fans about you and you guys' relationship, some were happy and supportive while others didn't take it too well, they were raging... you had received hate and death threats, you tried to remain calm and ignore it convincing yourself that they will forget about it in the next few weeks, but to your dismay, things have been worse, not just with clay's fans but with you two as well.

In the first weeks of getting severe hate, he was there and ready to shower you with comfort and affection, but he suddenly got too busy which makes you feel lonely, but of course you didn't wanna intrude with his career so you let him be, constantly trying to keep the relationship going through a lot of fights have occurred, it started getting worse where you won't even talk to each other without arguing... it was frustrating, but now you had decided that you wanna talk things out with him and fix the mess you both had created.

You're currently waiting in your room, clay's still streaming and have been extremely loud, you missed your chill days with him where you'd just cuddle and whisper soothing words to each other's ear but you haven't talked for the past days and if you do it'll just end up to an argument, You stood up from your bed figuring that he would end stream soon, so you decided to wait in the living room.

_------_------_

After a solid two hours, you had grown impatient, he hadn't left his room though you well know that he had ended his stream since you were watching it...

you sighed finally having the courage to scurry to his room with slight disappointment written on your face...

you had started making dinner and finished.

you knocked three times, waiting expectantly for an answer and receiving none... you knocked again and voiced out this time.

"Clay, dinner's ready," you mutter having hopes that he will answer this time.

sighing once again, you opened the door to see him faced in front of his setup, talking to his friends... he looked over your way with no expression.

"what?" he asked, coming out a little bit too rude for your liking despite waiting for him for 2 hours straight, you decided to be kind and not match his temper for today.

"dinner's ready" you softly mumbled at him.

he turned back to his computer "you go eat, ill come down later." he said before unmuting his mic to talk with sapnap and George once more.

"But, it's been hours and you haven't turned that pc off, you need to eat." he clearly heard your complaint but still chose to ignore you.

"Are you seriously going to ignore me, clay? come on, just this time eat with me," you whined.

"[name], just go... I said ill go down later, eat first." that was his response to your whine, your frown grew deeper as your patience starting to wear off.

"clay! just turn that off and eat."

"I said ill be eating later, go now," he said with a slight hint of annoyance, you can tell that he was running out of patience too... you were too exhausted and just wanted the hugs your boyfriend used to give you, but that computer was your rival, A COMPUTER.

"No, clay, your eyes need to re-"

"can you just shut the f*ck up and go eat for God's sake??! how many times do I have to tell you??! [name] stop being a brat and leave me the f*ck alone!!!"

At this point, you were holding back tears, you were very sensitive with yelling, you had heard something from his pc.

"what the fuck dream?" you heard a familiar voice, which was George.

you sniffled and tried to hold back tears as you wiped those who escaped. "ok... ill go, I'm sorry" you said quietly, taking your leave from his room, as soon as he was out of sight, you sprinted to your room and cried... you tried holding your mouth hoping for the sobs to not be as loud... the voices in your head started speaking.

'he hates you now'

'he'll leave like everyone'

'you were too annoying and clingy'

'he doesn't love you anymore'

'he's tired of you, brat'

she tried stopping them by pulling her hair, starting to have a panic attack.

_________

On the other hand, dream stood in his room functioning what had just happened, you two fought but none ever raised voices nor insulted you like that... he was shocked and shaking as tears threatened to fall from his eyes still hearing his friends nagging.

they had heard everything.

his body trembled thinking that you probably hate him now.

without thinking twice he left the call with nick and George before running out of his room towards yours.

he tried to twist the knob of course its locked, he knocked.

"[name]? baby? please let me in, I'm sorry, I meant nothing of those words! baby? open the door, love... [name] I'm sorry! open the door"

he stopped mid-way hearing her muffled sobs and whimpers.

he started to panic, he went away and grabbed his spare key to your room and frantically opened the door to see you silently crying on the ground, hugging your knees.

he knew how you reacted when a person yells at you, he knew damn well that you were sensitive yet he had failed to take care of you, his mind was full of regret.

tears started falling from his eyes, seeing how much he had hurt you, he was frustrated about the hate and the constant blackmails about being doxxed and shit.

He quickly went towards you and hugged you, he picked you up and sat on the bed with you on his lap.

"Baby, I'm so sorry!" he hugged you tighter rubbing circles on your back.

"I'm a jerk, [name] I'm sorry" he continued kissing the top of your head and held your face to try and face you.

he had seen your face that was stained with tears with a hurtful expression on your face.

"I hate you" you mumbled "I just wanted you to eat, that all" she cried

"I know, I'm sorry baby, I was just stressed... I was frustrated that the hate will make you leave me I'm so sorry!" he explained kissing your forehead, and wiping the tears off your face.

he rested your head on his chest whispering sorry all over and over again, you had stopped the tears and now you have a runny nose

"ill never do that again, [name], I love you... we'll face the haters and continue loving each other, ok? I'm still very sorry, so to make it up to you, we'll spend two days, cuddling! just us, I promise"

he said laying the two of you on your bed. he caressed your cheeks and kissed your nose before moving towards your lips.

"I love you, I love you, I love you" he muttered all over and over kissing every part of your face.

he sighed contently taking a mental note

'must not shout at baby, must protect baby'

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 30

First time reader click here

TRIGGER WARNING! This chapter is a horror movie. There's blood, gore and psychological horror elements. Lemme know if it was actually scary - I'm desensitized to this shit. This was written to come out on Halloween but I was too slow with writing.

Wooden floor creaking behind me, I couldn't feel the cold of it, not even a single splinter piercing the arches of them, I ran like my life depended on it. The darkness behind me was alive; it breathed, pulsated, spreading along the walls of the hallway like mold. The hallway seemed to be endless.

As soon as I realized that, I noticed that it, in fact, did have an end and not a door was in sight; that quickly proved to br also just a trick of the eye - there were doors, the hallway was riddled with them, each one dark, identical and placed neatly about five feet apart. With shaking hands, I turned the knob, slamming the door behind me with a loud bang.

Panting, I let myself slide against the door, eyes closed, sheet landing in a puddle of white fabric on the floor around me. First five seconds passed quietly; then, a noise interrupted my panicked thinking and my eyes flew open as the scene in front of me produced more confusion.

The familiar scene of the pond behind my grandparents' stables, the poppies - a splash of blood red against the dull greens and browns - swaying in the breeze. A Dora the Explorer bucket hat and a six-year-old me, hair in pigtails, poking at a spot of moist soil with a large stick.

I knew where this was going yet I couldn't pull my eyes away from the scene that was going to unfold. A stallion my parents had recently bought, ill-tempered and moody, jumping over the low fence and galloping noisily right at mini-me. The terrified animal was screaming yet I was oblivious to it's distress, too busy trying to fish out earthworms out of the wet ground. Almost in slo-mo, mini-me noticed the running, screaming animal and bolted for safety, its hooves missing my little body barely by a feet.

I felt the cold water of the pond on my skin. It was dirty and blooming at the time, musky smell assaulting my senses, murky water choking the life out of both versions of me. In the distance, I noticed a much younger and slimmer dad sprinting full-speed towards the splashing child in the pond. He was screaming something and I leaned in, trying to hear him better.

The scene vanished into thin, wispy smoke. My head was once again clear and the suffocating dread and panic subsided, letting me take in several deep breaths and try to assess the situation calmly. I had survived that accident, even successfully overcame my fear of swimming later on.

Hands shaking and heart fluttering like a frightened bird, I recoiled from the locked door when it began to rattle, the noise deafening in the eerie quiet of the house.

The shadows were taunting me. Trapping me in my worst fears, making me relive my worst memories. The artifact needed something from me - what was it? I wondered, tucking the sheet in some semblance of a toga and standing up to explore the room. Save for a few outdated pieces of furniture, it was cold and empty, void of life. Nowhere to hide.

I paced the room, coming to a halt next to the heavy, thick velvet curtains. Expecting to see a window behind them, I was surprised with another old wooden door with a bent handle that had gathered an impressive layer of dust. With rattling behind me increasingly growing in volume, I had no other option but to press it down and quickly dart into the next dark room.

Clint. Lifeless eyes wide open, his body laying at my feet, sheet-white and rust coloured stains adorning his mouth, nails black and broken as if he'd been clawing at the dilapidated wooden floors. I backed away from him, further into the room - the archer's body began to move and tremble, tiny little gashes appearing on every inch of exposed skin. The thing that was breaking out of him glowed, pale blue and sickly.

"That's not..." I whispered to myself. "Clint is alive," As if I had been doused with cold water, the images of MAFS incident seeped into my mind, the what-ifs of my past actions weighing heavily and clouding my mind with guilt.

"Come on, we don't have much time," Steph's voice appeared behind my back, loud and out of nowhere. I was rightfully sceptical about the reality of him - while his face was the usual, tense expression of boredom, he stood differently. I couldn't describe the difference if I tried; it just felt wrong. Like a puzzle piece was missing.

"I don't think so, demon dude," Squaring my shoulders once again, I prepared myself for the inevitable pain.

"Who?" The copycat asked, faking concern surprisingly well. "It's the artifact. It's making you see things that aren't real," With a wave of his hand, the door flew open, exposing the hallway filled with the void that was chasing me previously.

"Oh what I saw was real alright," I countered, tilting my head to examine the entity. Unknowingly, it had given itself away - Stephen's magic always glowed gold and orange, in the sense that he wasn't like Loki - Strange's spells were always visible. "I'd rather you kill me then spread your vile disease beyond this... Space," With none of the bravery I actually had, bluff came surprisingly easy. Perhaps, I really was ready to die so my friends and family could live.

Not-Stephen tsked and grinned maliciously, once again waving his hands about. "Killing you? So barbaric and an absolute waste of potential." The shadows pushed something into the gaping hole of the doorway, something curled up in a fetal position and whimpering. The entity picked up the man by the shoulders, forcing him to kneel in front of it, teary baby browns staring back at me, wide with terror.

Tony. My feet took an involuntary step forward, where my Tony was trembling, whimpering in the creature's grasp, unseeing eyes looking straight forward. As if I wasn't there.

"Submit and I will let him go. Right now, he's relieving the worst memories of his life," The entity raised an eyebrow, a mock imitation of Stephen's expression. I could hear Tony mumbling faintly, something about his chest and Afghanistan and bombs and Obadiah.

It pissed me off. Firstly, how dare this wannabe-Pennywise, this LOST-fog-monster-reject to lay his filthy metaphysical fingers on my Tony. And secondly, for the sloppy intelligence job - I had been woken up by Tony's nightmares more than enough to know his biggest fear wasn't Afghanistan. It wasn't Obadiah and it wasn't Bucky killing his parents, it wasn't even the vast, consuming black emptiness of the space behind the wormhole.

Anger burning my throat, I lunged at not-Stephen with a bloodcurdling scream, feeling my nails dig into the cold, clammy flesh of the thing's throat. Taken by surprise, both of us stumbled, falling into the abyss of the hallway, me kicking and scratching and screaming all the way, fingers squeezing deeply into the lifeless imitation of flesh. His screams mixed with mine and Tony's into a shrieking cacophony.

The darkness was laughing, cackling, noise sharp like nails on a chalkboard. It hurt, but the thing's grip on me hurt even more. "He'll never love you like you expect him to. They don't care about you. The mage said he'd help you and now you're dying here, alone," Black smoke began leaking out of the impostor's mouth along with the words, both acrid and venomous.

My head was pounding as more and more of the stuff came into contact with my body. My vision swam, bordering on unconsciousness. "If I'm dying, I'm taking you with me, bitch," I screamed out, squeezing and squeezing and squeezing until I exploded together with my surroundings, in a short of white, blinding light.

And then, there was darkness. My limbs were once again filled with concrete, mouth dry and skin burning like I'd been branded with a hot iron.

I opened my eyes to the familiar sight of the room with the fireplace. The fire was roaring, crackling and and shooting noisy sparks, accompanied by heavy breathing to my left. Disregarding the nausea that followed my every movement, I hung my head over the side of the car coming to witness both sorcerers laying haphazardly on the floor, a thin river of blood seeping into the carpet from Wong's head.

Confused, disoriented and terrified, I called out for them, voice barely audible and terse. Had I been screaming?

The sorcerers' chests rose and fell rapidly; my panic subsided but not by much. I crawled out of the cot only to land ungracefully on my face, body refusing to cooperate and feeling about as well as after I'd ran a marathon. Inch by inch, I crawled over to the chair I had left my things on, fighting with my body for every movement I made.

Fumbling, l pulled out my phone and pressed the green call button on the one person one would call in this situation. My best friend.

"Yes, dear?" His baritone was tense but nonetheless calm.

"Help, some-something happened," I managed to say, no louder than a whisper. "Sanctum," I clarified, hearing a noise of things falling over and several distressed voices shouting in the background.

"I am coming, do not end the call," Loki replied immediately, barking out several commands I didn't quite catch. There were more noises of distress as I obediently stayed on the phone. "Darling, can you tell me what happened?"

"I- Killed?" I tried to articulate my thoughts, tongue becoming more and more uncooperative by the second.

"Oh my God, who's dead?!" I heard Bruce yell, probably, right in Loki's ear.

"The Thing," I clarified, hoping to calm him down.

Loki cursed in his native language, I heard him trying to wrestle the phone from someone - unsuccessfully so, I might say, as Tony's distraught voice was the next thing I heard. "Princess, listen to me. Are you okay? Where's Strange? We're gonna be there in 10 minutes. We're coming."

An avalanche of information for my overtaxed brain and aching body, I struggled to keep up with Tony's rambling and filtering out Loki's screeching in the background. So much noise. My head hurt. "No, Steph and Wong are down. Alive." I managed to convey the most important part, a terrified sob leaving my chest burning. "Please, talk," I begged Tony, not wanting to be left in that terrifying, consuming silence ever again.

And Tony talked. He babbled nonstop, things that I didn't really catch neither care about, having enough strength to give a hum of approval every few seconds or so. It appeared to be as calming to him as it was to me, I didn't hear any more complaints from the team, only brief increase in volume as one of them got closer to the phone. A part of me conceded I should've made at least one joke about being put on loudspeaker, however, my brain was exhausted.

Burnt out, rather. The emptiness settled in my bones, chilly, like the blood had been sucked out of me, making my body just a vessel for the darkness that stalked my nightmares. I dug my nails into the soft flesh of my bare thigh, feeling none of the pain, just the relief when blood seeped through the cuts, crimson and warm.

That's how they found me. Loki threw open the door, breaking one of the hinges, eyes immediately darting between me and the laying sorcerers, as he swiftly cast a bright golden spell on the room, warming us from the inside out. Carefully stepping over the two men, Loki kneeled in front of me, green eyes staring right into mine.

I heard cursing and thudding but all I could focus on was the shining emerald of Loki's eyes. "Oh, child," He whispered, reaching out with both arms to pull me into his chest. I couldn't have resisted even if I wanted to, my body was utterly drained of fight.

"What happened?" Tony asked, a hysterical pitch to his voice.

"I can assume there was a failsafe left behind by the artifact, it took out both sorcerers and attempted to finish the job it started," Loki spoke up, hand gently petting my hair, still clutching my limp body like I was dying. "She fought it off, I don't know how, but she fought it off. It has entered a dormant state again."

"What do you mean took them all out?" In his distress, Tony seemed to have lost all sensibility. "What happened to her?!" He was getting impatient, angry.

"With an artifact like that, it's a blessing they are still alive. It is ancient and unpredictable," Loki explained patiently, none of his usual vitriol present. "And she... You could say she was mind-raped," He stated, quieter.

I groaned in protest. Loki's spell of gold did what felt like a wonder: the light was slowly coming back into the room, into me, filling me with warmth I didn't know I could lack. "As if," I slurred. "As if that Pennywise wannabe could ever," My body was, nonetheless, exhausted. "I've swallowed more kids than he could ever," My eyelids dropped, the comforting noise of Tony's and Loki's combined chuckle amplifying the surplus of warmth within me.

Last thing I saw was Tony's watery smile, tears crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he lifted me from Loki's arms, hot rod red of his suit saturating the room with color. Feeling safe for the first time in what felt like forever, I let my eyes close voluntarily, a smile crawling onto my face. I was right. Tony was alright, it wasn't really him that was getting tortured in the nightmare-verse.

"What..." I heard Stephen croak from somewhere. "Baby?!" His voice raised a whole octave; Thor's fond chuckle followed the rustling of fabric and a few stronger choice words from the sorcerer as Loki briefed everyone on the situation at hand.

"How is she, Tones?" Bruce asked quietly from above me.

"Pretty out of it but on her way back to health," Tony replied with another watery laugh. "Cracking jokes and whatnot clownery."

Bruce exhaled in relief, stroking my face with the side of his fingers. It was almost palpable, the general atmosphere of respite in the room, the sudden free flow of oxygen to my lungs.

"I am so sorry," Stephen's whisper was more felt than heard by me; the spice of his cologne and copper of blood reached my nostrils, burning them, keeping the warmth from leaving my body ever again.

My fingers weakly held out to him, finally coming to grasp his more-than-usual shaking hand. "Not your fault," I breathed. "Persistent cursed box," Were my last words before my consciousness gave out. Sleep sweet sleep.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​@pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[rinnysega]

Bart having a horrible nightmare about Bob and Marge calming him down and telling him he'll be okay and that he's safe

Of course! Here you go:

He was drowning. That was the only thought to cross through his mind as Bart Simpson tossed and turned with discomfort, trying to fight the tightness growing in his chest as he was slowly but surely suffocating. He was being held there, in the space where he was unable to breathe, and although his eyes were closed, his body enveloped in a pitch black void, he could hear that maniacal laughter radiating from all around him, aimed at his unfortunate state of being. It was him, Sideshow Bob doing this, but how?

He struggled, trying to find where those hands were that were holding him down beneath the water. If he could just bite and scratch at them, surely he’d be able to fight to the surface and breathe, but there was nothing tangible to latch onto - nothing holding him down except sheer willpower and invisible force of that man’s hatred toward him. It sent him into a spiraling panic where the tightness of his lungs expedited his situation, and he could feel the end was about to come in a burst of gasps, then darkness.

The gasps did come, but they came when he kicked outward and jolted himself upward. His leg had urged the boy to come out of his deep sleep, and Bart found himself sitting straight up in his bed upon his awakening, the lights of his television strobing in the darkness, illuminating the beads of sweat on his skin. He panted and felt himself to see if he was even real. He was, and he was alive. His throat was dry and scratchy, and his heart was racing a hundred miles a minute, but he was alive. He was okay…

He glanced around the room to get his bearings. Itchy and Scratchy reruns played on low volume as the hours ticked on toward 2am. That explained it.

It was just a dream...just a dream…

Bart used the sleeve of his pajamas to wipe away the sweat that threatened to get into his eyes, and he felt tears he didn’t even know were there get wiped away along with them. He had to slow his breathing before he really did start crying. What a nightmare that was...

His thoughts were interrupted when a soft knock came from his door, and he looked over to see his mom poke her head into the room.

“Sweetie, your father and I can hear you fussing. Are you okay?”

Before he could answer, Marge Simpson looked over to the TV still playing cartoons, and her look of worry for her son turned to a mild irritant at his disobedience of the house rules. She made her way into the room where she took the remote off his bedside table and turned off the screen. The only light now came from the moon outside, and it framed the two of them in distorted panels as Marge sat down on the edge of his bed.

“Bart, we told you no TV after bedtime.”

“Sorry, Mom. I must have fallen asleep and forgot to turn it off.” That was a lie.

Marge let out a soft groan in her throat while she pulled up the sleeve of her robe to feel his forehead with the back of her hand. Her worry returned, and her demeanor softened once again.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re burning up…You’re not getting sick are you?”

Usually, he’d tell her yes in hopes it meant a day off school, but his nightmare of being killed by Sideshow Bob was still fresh in his mind, and he felt it was making him delirious. As such, he told her no.

“Well, I’ll check again in the morning to see if you have a fever, but you go right to bed, young man, and no more falling asleep watching those violent cartoons. They’ll give you nightmares.”

Bart’s fingers gripped his bed sheets as Marge stood up to lay him back down on his pillow. She fluffed the edges of them and gave him a gentle, motherly kiss on the forehead. Before she pulled away, he stopped her by holding out his hand to take her wrist.

“Mom, wait. If I ask you to do something for me, do you promise not to tell Lisa or Homer?”

“Oh, of course, sweetie. You know whatever happens between us is just between us.”

“Then...can you make me some warm milk with cinnamon and talk to me about when you were a kid again?”

Marge took her seat back on the bed and pulled her son close to her side. “Oh, sweetie...you haven’t asked me to do that since you were still little.” And whenever he did make those requests, it was due to those early childhood intense fears and wanting something comforting and distracting. It could only mean one thing.

“Did you have a bad dream tonight?”

Bart nodded and leaned against her, wrapping his arms around her in hopes no one else in the family would come in and see him being this much of a baby about it. But he couldn’t help it - the trauma attached to the nightmares - and to Bob himself - manifested in his world outside of his subconscious, and that itself was terrifying enough for a child. The man was unpredictable, and for all he knew, it was a premonition about being drowned by him in a lake and not the side effect of violent cartoons. How would he know the difference?

But Marge’s soft shushes lulled most of those fears away as she ran her fingers through his hair and gave him several reassuring pets on the back of his hand.

“There, there, Bart. It’ll be okay. Those bad dreams can’t hurt you.”

“But they felt so real.”

“I know they can be, sweetie. I’ve had a lot of dreams like that growing up, and sometimes I still get them.”

“You do?”

“Sure do. In fact, I had a lot of them when I was pregnant with you, and you know what I did?”

“What?”

“I’d get up, and I’d make myself some warm milk with cinnamon.” She bent over to kiss his head. “Do you want to stay in bed or come downstairs with me to make it?”

“I’ll stay here...but Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t.” She gave him another reassuring hug and kiss and got up to make him his late night drink. As soon as she left, Bart sat back against his pillow and rubbed his eyes with his fingertips.

He can’t hurt me...he can’t hurt me...everything is going to be okay...everything is going to be okay…

He took a deep breath and sighed out, thinking about the warm milk about to come his way. Just the thought alone was bringing him fond memory sensors of its taste and smell, and how comforting they were when he was younger when his mom brought them to him. Back when she was the only beacon of warmth and safety in his whole world. Those feelings within those memories gave him much needed ease. He found himself able to relax a little more now, knowing she was here, that she was awake to help him through this, like she always had.

As soon as she came back upstairs, Bart would have to remind himself to tell her again how much he really, really loved her.

[nocherryblood]

Hey! Just a couple of random drawings here!I'll list all the ideas and explanations behind these drawings here:

1) Idea: Will is sick (Mason's come down with it too- and by how close Mabel is to him by trying to comfort him, she'll get it too... aww), the Gleeful twins (they're about 10 or 11 here) refuse to go to bed (which may or may not have been down to a dangerous mix of Mabel Juice and Smile Dip), Bill refuses to leave his twin until he's better so he let himself into the mansion, and Kill's playing the big brother card and refusing to leave too, instead deciding to settle down on Bill's head to watch it all. :) Ah, bliss. So, what does Stanford do? The only thing he can, drug them into submission begrudgingly read them a bedtime story about a few "adventures" he's had. Oh well...

2) Idea: Stanford and Fiddleford find one of those novelty character photo stands, and stick their heads in the holes to take a photo for a laugh. The end result is two quite weird looking "disney princess " photos.

3) Idea: Vampire Will! I'll run through what's happening in each Still!

(Top left) Will is blood-starved (which is when he's either refused or unable to get, blood) and goes crazy trying to get some. He still manages to looks cute to me in a way. And yes, when he gets mad, he goes red, just like his twin! Aww! (But don't laugh, he's thirsty and it looks like you're next...)

(Top right) Will feeding off of someone, but they've been fed from many times before... can you guess who it is (Hint, look at that "tattoo"...)?

(Left middle) During one of the times that Will is blood-starved, he walks to Dipper's college dorm (crossing through a portal to get to Gravity Falls- thankfully, DipDop is out that evening; the two of them "share" a dorm in college, even if Bill doesn't actually go to classes, he's just there to spend time with his Pine Tree), stumbling a little. Bill smiles, just happy to see his little bro, and lets him in without even questioning it (and here we see the very rare thing called "Bill's innocence"). Will asks him for a hug, saying only that he felt a bit lonely so he came to see him, and Bill accepts straight away, going in for the hug. But he's horrified to see Will's face flicker from sad to lust (FOR BLOOD. FOR BLOOD!) for just a second, but before he can do anything, Will's already bitten him several times in just a matter of a few seconds (vampire speed + vampire magic + demon speed + demonic powers = run the hell away from that OP b*tch). Bill staggers back, falling to the floor, and although Will tries to "switch back" to himself, he can't, and getting a taste of (demon) blood didn't help. The end result is... well... Bill ends up losing a heck of a lot of blood, there is one very surprised Pine Tree who comes home in the morning to find Bill passed out on the floor, and one very drunken Will, who drank way too much (especially because it's demon) blood, and it has an effect like being high/stoned or being intoxicated, it just depends. That was a fun morning.

(Middle right) Someone forcing Will's hunger to grow by smashing a vial of angel blood in his face (which by the way, tastes irresistible to him), which can be used to lure said vampire-demon if used in the right way... A smear of angel blood here on a victim and a smear of angel blood there on a victim, aaaaannnndddd... it'd be enough to send him reeling; poor victim :( And no, they (a normal victim at least; 'angel blood' victims don't stand a chance) won't get turned, they'll bleed out unless someone helps them out, because there's a special venom that Will has to inject with his fangs if he wants to turn someone... so don't think you have a chance of survival, unless:

A) He manages to get himself back and decides to help you out

B) You're a child- because Will will NOT attack children, no matter how much he wants to. There has been only one time (he was forced to by Fidds and Ford for an experiment), and he had to be left in the basement for a week before he calmed down...

C) You find him another victim quick enough (of all the three options, this is the one with the least hope- so say goodbye now while you're at it)

(Bottom right) Will's coffin! It's white, with his name written on the front in black letters written on it in cursive (though as he grows 'older', he does prefer a less 'curly' font, but at first, he likes to stick to his old style of writing- from when he was just a demon). He doesn't have to sleep in it, he can sleep in a bed-, which he does do at first, but he finds it safer in case he accidentally wakes up to find the sun's rays glaring down at him... which won't hurt him exactly, but it's not exactly the nicest feeling either...

(Middle) Blood-starved Will...

Will: "I'-It's [the restraining belt] a little t-tight, Bill. Could you t-take it off, p-please? It hurts...."

Bill: "I know Blue, I-I'm... sorry... but I can't... It's not... It's not..."

Will: "It's not... safe... is it?

Bill: "Oh, Will... No... If course it's safe, I just-"

Will (distorted): "WELL THEN WHAT, BILL?! WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO? I'M STARVING!" *grabs bars, shakes them, growls*

Bill (quietly): *backs away* Will... this isn't you... St-stop it...

Will (quietly): *backs away into 'cell', sniff* Bill...?

Bill: *looks up*

Both: *run to each other, hug through bars*

Bill: "I love you, Blue..." (AS BROTHERS!)

Will: "What's happening to m-me, Bill...?"

Bill: *runs hand through Will's hair* "I don't know, Will..."

Both: *crying profusely*

Aww...

Backstory time! (This could change a little, in time, but here's the rough idea-)

Well, at first, no-one thinks that being bitten by a rogue vampire is going to affect a demon that much...

At first the signs on Will are subtle, like becoming more and more sensitive to sunlight and tending to stay away from more people, unless he trusts them or knows them well... but he was fine.

Soon the signs become more severe, and he develops a sort of hunger eating (that pun tho...) away at him, and his senses are starting to get overwhelmed. But he was fine.

All in all, for first few months, Will can pretty much (mostly) just try to ignore the signs, just blaming it in being stressed rather than everything else. He could still serve under the Gleefuls (especially Stanford and Mason, hint hint ;)) without them noticing too much; the only people to noticeably be worried about him were Dipper and Mabel (Pines), and his brother- whom he was allowed to visit every once in a while. So things weren't exactly alright, but he was fine.

Until his bite marks disappear...

One Friday evening, after a particularly draining show (in which he had to use quite a bit of energy), Will is set to serve the evening tea. At first, everything is fine, and he barely notices anything is wrong.

But just as he walks into the dining room, a sharp pain pierces his neck, causing him to shriek, fall, and drop the dinner plates all over the floor. He quickly attempts to get up to clean it up, and Mason tries to help him too (if only to mock him at first), but before he can leave a snidy remark and walk away with a smirk, Will grabs his hand.

The blue demon switches back and forth between himself and the fledgling merging with him, letting go of Mason's hand as he tries to stay in control. He has visions of blood running down the walls, making him panic and feel like he's drowning, and then feeling like he can't breathe.

Flashes of consciousness of him feeding on Mason (whilst the poor boy frantically struggles to get away from him) phase through the visions to him, but ultimately, he cannot stop it. He "wakes up"on the floor, with Mason bleeding out by the wrist next to him, before Mabel rushes to help Mason. Will sees Stanford approach him, and Ford drags Will up by the collar, and down to the basement, locking him down there. He observes Will from a distance- from a camera in another room- before he begins to notice Will losing himself as he soon tries to get out as his vampire side lets paranoia about being trapped, set in. Will essentially goes "feral" banging on the bars, baring his teeth/currently-lengthened fangs, growling, hissing, rocking back and forth, pounding on the walls... you get the message. After a while, Stanford decided (even though he would usually just let Will suffer) to try to anathetise Will, before eventually just giving up and filling the room with narcotic gases to make him sleep. After a couple of coughing fits, Will finally passes out, and Stanford comes in, resolving to typing his arms next to him with an enchanted belt, so that Will can't free himself, no matter how hard he tries. He also puts a special collar on him, like a shock collar but it can also administer small amounts of the narcotics, if Stanford so wishes. So, with done, he lets Will sleep until the morning, just waiting to observe his actions... And so, when Will is denied/refused, or unable to obtain blood or energy (because he can feed off of people's energy too, it's just not a effective and fills the hunger for much less longer) then that, is when he is blood-starved, so he'll probably anything just to get some, though let it be said, the longer he has to wait, the greeider he'll become. There have been numerous experiments between Fidds and Ford, to see how long will could actually go for without attacking someone whilst blood-starved, unbeknownst to poor Will :(. But regardless of that, the record if around 2 hours and 1 minute...

(If you have any further questions, ask away!)

[wolfie170]

I live in Scotland, where the Mormon presence and power is greatly reduced, but we do get missionaries. And one day two young guys stopped me in the street.

"Excuse me, do you have a minute?"

"Sorry," I mutter as I pass, "I'm Catholic." I have not been a practicing Catholic for several years at this point. But when I was little my mum gave me strict instructions that should any missionaries come to the house, I was to politely tell them I was Catholic and close the door. And in my panic the words escape from me now, reflexive, the magic spell I was taught to make these kinds of people disappear. And for the first time, maybe because now when I say it it's a lie, it doesn't work.

"Well," says the very handsome one, who seems older and more sure of himself, "can I just ask, did you come to that religion yourself or were you raised in it?"

I make the mistake of stopping.

"Raised in it," I tell him.

"Well, and I hope this doesn't sound rude, but have you ever thought: is Catholicism your religion, or just your parents' religion?"

And now I'm actually interested in having a conversation with this guy, because it was questions like that which caused me to lose my faith and leave the Catholic church. I want to know if he's had to ask himself the same questions. I'm almost impressed at his ballsiness, bringing it up. And anther part of me, I find suddenly, some deep part, is aching to talk about how frightening that question was when I first put it to myself; the dark current that then pulled me down into a swirling spiral of more and more difficult, painful questions; how deeply it hurt at the end, when I didn't feel saved or even free, just alone.

Only, I realise too late as I walk over, I can't tell him about any of that, because that would mean admitting to a missionary that I just lied to them about my religion, and if Hell is real there's probably a special place in it for people who do that.

So instead I channel my 17 year old self, the altar server who helps the Sacriston write Christmas cards and is having a religious crisis because they're in the closet and one of their relatives is dying. I talk about how things like the inconsistent triad (the idea that God is omnipotent, omniscient and omnibenevolent but allows suffering) weigh heavy on my conscience. I look in his eyes for some kind of recognition; does he have thoughts like this? I tell him I went to a Catholic nursery, then a Catholic primary school and finally a Catholic high school, and how I never learned about other religions. He tells me if I just give him my phone number he'll invite me for coffee sometime. There's something a little surreal in that; he's easily the most attractive person who has ever tried to get my number, and he's trying harder than anyone else ever has.

Lastly, I tell him how it's hard sometimes, reckoning my faith with the realization I'm attracted to women.

"Oh," he says, and I think I've finally thrown him. But then he flashes the biggest, twinkliest smile yet and says, "Well, everyone's welcome in our church!"

And he shakes my hand. He makes a point of it; of extending the olive branch. It's a cosy but firm shake, the kind where one hand takes yours and the other takes your wrist. It only lasts a moment but he wants me to know its important, a deliberate gesture.

But all this time, he's forgotten his partner standing behind him. The other missionary. The younger, shyer one, who he's probably showing the ropes. And I see his face over the handsome Mormon's shoulder. I see him take a step back when I mention I'm not straight. I see his eyes widen, horrified, and when his partner takes my hand I see his mouth open in shock. He catches me looking and he tries to hide his disgust but it's too late.

For obvious reasons I never did meet them for coffee, so I'll never know if Handsome Mormon was a good liar or genuinely ignorant of the abuse lgbt+ people suffer directly and indirectly at the hands of his church. But I think about it a lot, and I'll sit and wonder if he's okay, and hope that he is, because sometimes when I think back on our meeting I feel certain something in that handshake was trying to tell me that, under that perfect smile, he knew far too well how awful it is to be gay and Mormon.

It’s Mormon conference weekend, which happens twice a year, and is when all the Mormons stay in and listen to new talks given by their leaders all day long on Saturday and Sunday. It’s consequently also a very scary time for the gay community in Utah, and the whole weekend we often send and receive lots of texts checking in, making sure everyone’s okay, asking if they’ve heard the latest awful talk condemning us. There’s real world applications to everything that happens there. Parents are “moved” to disown their children, coworkers and friends and neighbors are reminded to Other us and treat us accordingly. Suicide rates increase significantly. I remember the year after they announced children of gay parents would have to formally disown them before they’d be welcome in the church, and for two weeks afterward a group chat updated the gay community in my area almost every day with a handful of names who were not longer with us. A talk just concluded that said confusing both your gender identity and your gender role is the influence of Satan, which is deeply harmful to young trans kids and to young women. This isn’t a fun or sexy post for your timeline it just sucks and I hate Mormons and I can feel how difficult this next week is going to be as a result.