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daffi-990 · 3 days

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @dangerpronebuddie @wikiangela @tizniz @bidisasterevankinard

I’ve been tagged by so many people for so many different wip games but after finishing Rival Firefighters 🚒 .. I’m a bit burnt out and the writing beans have taken a little vacay.

That being said, have something I wrote a while ago for my Daylight Series (which I would love to revisit .. just need inspiration to strike and stick around).

(Btw this is the song that Buck is singing ⬇️)

Eddie knocks on the front door, fiddling with his car keys as he waits for Buck to let him in. When he gets no response he tries again. Still nothing. Wondering whether Buck went down to the beach or if he’s fallen asleep on the hammock out back, Eddie makes his way around the back of the house.

He’s halfway along the side of the house when he hears the sounds of a guitar. Ah, so that’s why Buck didn’t hear him. Eddie is about to step up onto the porch to make his presence known when Buck starts singing, halting Eddie’s movements.

I can't tell which way is home

I've been gone for so long

It's an empty world up here

I skip stones and wonder

How long 'til I'm discovered

It's a quiet life up here

The song is hauntingly beautiful, and Eddie can hear the raw emotion in Buck’s voice that tells him the pain of the song was very real, is very real. He quietly moves forward, being careful not to interrupt Buck. The man in question is sitting on the back porch steps that lead down to the beach, guitar held comfortably against him like it’s a part of him.

What If I run away to Mars?

Would you find me in the stars?

Would you miss me in the end

If I run out of oxygen?

When I run away to Mars

Three, two, one I miss you.

I’m sorry, I’ve got issues.

Eddie hasn’t known Buck for long, but he feels a deep ache in his chest for his friend. What happened to Buck to warrant this heartache? Is that why he came to Hartlan Shore? Buck’s told him and everyone else who’s asked that he moved because he needed a fresh start and why not Hartlan?

Eddie’s starting to think maybe that’s not all to Buck’s story. Whatever Buck left behind to come here is Buck’s business and Eddie’s not going to push him for information, but her hopes that one day Buck will trust him enough to share that part of himself.

Would you miss me in the end

If I run out of oxygen?

When I run away to Mars

The song comes to an end, Buck staring blankly out towards the ocean. Eddie blinks back the tears from his eyes and gives Buck a few minutes before stepping onto the porch into Buck’s peripheral.

No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @exhuastedpigeon @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @the-likesofus @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @steadfastsaturnsrings @shitouttabuck @spagheddiediaz @sunshinediaz @devirnis @fiona-fififi @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @honestlydarkprincess @homerforsure @hoodie-buck @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @ladydorian05 @captain-hen @neverevan @bekkachaos @missmagooglie @monsterrae1 and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag 🏷

#daffi writes #daylight series #music #buddie wip #buddie #I’ve written a sentence here or there for my Eddie Breakdown fic and LA Lonely #but not too much writing happening atm #I have started playing Minecraft though 😅#my eldest is really into it so I thought I’d give it a go so we could play together #and just like with the Sims .. I love building and creating #no surprise there haha

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hippolotamus · 1 month

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run to the water (and find me there) 🧜‍♂️

Idk why but this wip has a hold on me 🥰

Is this a slightly outdated WIP ask? Yes. Do I care? Absolutely not. Because I've been holding onto it in case I had a new snip for you, dearest, and today seemed like an excellent opportunity. I reworked the beginning and added more detail, so consider this a New Old Snippet. (all prev snippets here) Enjoy, lovely 🧜‍♂️💖

Eddie Diaz is eleven years old when he meets the love of his life. In what could only be considered a miracle, his parents announce the family is taking a vacation that isn’t their usual week at Abuela and Abeulo’s ranch. Not that Eddie doesn’t enjoy his time there, but he maybe – okay definitely – gets a little frustrated hearing about how his classmates get to go to Disney World or summer camp. This is the year Eddie will finally have something cool to tell his friends. Not only is he going to the beach – in a whole other state! – he gets to take his first ever plane ride. It doesn’t even bother him that he has to sit with Sophia because he gets the window seat. An up close view as the plane ascends through white, fluffy clouds that stretch across the boundless bright blue sky and create a wispy barrier to the world below. Sipping Sprite from a plastic cup, and nibbling on cookies the nice flight attendant brought, he stares into the distance. His body feels like it’s not his own, bubbling with awe and wonder as he admires the curving horizon. He likens the experience to being pleasantly trapped in a liminal space that’s not quite earth, the cosmos or heaven. When they begin their descent, he can’t help feeling a mild sense of disappointment, already anxious to be back in the air. That immediately dissipates when he gets his first glimpse of the ground below. A complex grid of streets and highways even more densely packed with cars and houses than El Paso. From this high up they look like toys rather than functional structures used by real people. While the flight was exciting, the Los Angeles airport is less so. Well, it’s still exciting, but in more of a terrifying, confusing way. Eddie is nervous to look away from his parents or older sister for even a second, afraid he’ll be swept up in the sea of people. It’s a small comfort that his mother has Adriana, his baby sister, strapped to her chest in a carrier. “Edmundo! Help with the bags!” His father snaps, leading them towards the baggage carousel. “Why can’t Soph help, too?” Eddie asks. He’s not complaining and he doesn’t mind helping, but wouldn’t it be easier with three of them? Regardless, it was obviously the wrong question. His father sighs, looking for all the world like he’s trying to maintain what little composure he has. “Because, Edmundo, you are going to be the next head of this family. You, and not Sophia, need to learn to take responsibility. To take care of them. You are the one who needs to learn what it means to be a man.” “Ramon,” his mother cuts in. “He’s just a boy.” “Sí, mi corazón.” His father softens slightly, but it’s evident his mind is made up. “A boy who needs to be ready for life to be thrust upon him at any moment. Better that he prepare himself now.” Eddie sends his mother a grateful smile for trying.

(Tease Tidbit Tuesday) tags below the cut

np tagging @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz mi amor @disasterbuckdiaz @actuallyitsellie @apothecarose @barbiediaz @buddierights @chaosandwolves @diazsdimples @elvensorceress @epicbuddieficrecs @eowon @fortheloveofbuddie @gayedmundodiaz @giddyupbuck @heartshapedvows @honestlydarkprincess @hoodie-buck @indestructibleheart @jesuisici33 @thekristen999 @ladydorian05 @lemonzestywrites @loserdiaz @loveyouanyway @monsterrae1 @spaceprincessem @spotsandsocks @statueinthestone @steadfastsaturnsrings @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @thewolvesof1998 @tizniz @vanillahigh00 @wildlife4life @wikiangela @your-catfish-friend and anyone else who wants to 😘

#still in my 'do what i want' era #one day i'll settle back on one wip #*snort*#until then i'm happy for words to be wording #buddie wip #hippo writes #fic: run to the water (and find me there)#human eddie diaz #merperson!buck #🧜‍♂️#seriously daffi i love how much love you have for this wip #it makes my tiny heart so happy #tease tidbit tuesday

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diazsdimples · 17 days

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❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

It’s snowing!!

A snowstorm in my inbox!! 21 frosty sentences just for you (we're pretending that last section in the speech marks is one sentence okay)!

Frostpunk AU ❄️

Hope surges through Buck at the news – it’s the closest thing either of the Diazes have made in terms of visible progress and he clings onto it like a lifeline, Bobby’s words from a few days prior echoing in his head. “Do you think he’d be able to hear me, you know, if I talked to him?” Buck asks Hen later that morning. She’s doing her routine cares on Edmundo, checking his IV sites to make sure they haven’t tissued and taking his vital signs, and Buck hovers around her, his fingers itching to thread through Edmundo’s steadily lengthening hair. “Who, Christopher?” Hen asks as she turns Edmundo’s hand over in hers, checking the length of his nails and the colour of the IV site. “I mean, both of them really, but yeah, Christopher,” Buck replies, shifting restlessly from one foot to another. “I was thinking of reading to him, so he knows he’s not alone.” Hen give Buck an almost sad smile, ones that he’s become more and more familiar with as the days have passed. He’s seen it on Hen’s face as she works and watches him keep constant vigil at the Diazes bedsides, and Bobby and Athena’s whenever they come and check on him. Maddie doesn’t try hide her sadness behind a smile, he sees it whenever he walks into a room these days. Be careful with yourself, Evan. Don’t get too attached. Yeah, well, Buck’s never been very good at listening to instructions, even if it’s for his own good. “I’m sure he’d really appreciate it if you read to him, Buck, that’s a good idea,” Hen replies, and Buck’s already pushing through the tent flaps and pelting down the icy streets before he knows what he’s doing. It’s -30 degrees Celsius today, fairly mild for this time of year. The sun hasn’t quite crested over the big ridge that shelters the city, leaving the streets and buildings sparkling with icy dew from the frozen night. The slats of streets are still slippery with black ice, and more than once Buck has to grab onto a streetlamp to stop him from slithering sideways as he takes a turn too quickly. He reaches his tent in record time, sporting a new scrape on his knee from a misjudged corner, and shrugs off his coat, barely sparing a moment to brush the snow off his pants before continuing on his mission.

[insert this snippet about the Princess Bride here]

With the book clutched tight to his chest, Buck makes his way back to the med tent, this time with much more care. There’s a new chair waiting for him between Edmundo and Christopher’s beds, this one lined with furs and complete with a small section that pulls out, should he want to prop his feet up. There’s no indication of who made the switch, but Buck sees what looks suspiciously like the back of Bobby’s head over in the supply section of the tent, and Buck’s throat constructs a little. He settles himself down on the chair, kicking his boots off, and leans over Christopher’s side, speaking quietly to the kid. “Hey bud, it’s Buck. I- I don’t know if you can hear me but I’ve bought a book with me today, and thought I’d read it to you. My sister used to read it to me when I was little, and it always made me feel safe so I figured I’d do the same for you.”

Tagging friends who have shown interest in this work

@neverevan @cal-daisies-and-briars @exhuastedpigeon @thekristen999 @spotsandsocks @hippolotamus @jesuiscenseedormir @theotherbuckley

Make me write things!!

#james writes #frostpunk au #thank you for the flurry daffi!!#the healing has begun babes #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 abc #911 buddie #buddie wip #ngl I've missed writing for buddie #this was like coming home at the end of a long day #*dreamy sigh*

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dangerpronebuddie · 29 days

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Ohhh 1 & 2 👀

Hi Daffi 🥰💚

1. Eddie is a gremlin and makes it everyone's problem.

My main project right now, which happens to be the bar fight fic! She is so close to being finished, and I hope I can get it done before next Thursday. And, just for you, here's a snippet:

Eddie took it as a win, however petulant the guy was. He took the butterfly closures from his kit and reached up to close the wound.

Apparently, it wasn't a win after all. The man batted his hands away again, and the next thing he knew, a fist was flying at his face.

He dodged the blow and caught the man's wrist.

“You good, Eddie?” Chim asked from a few feet away.

“Yeah, I'm fine,” Eddie said through gritted teeth. He scowled at the man. “Now. Sit still for five minutes and this will all be over and done with. Okay?”

“I'm not a child,” the man scoffed.

“Then stop acting like one,” Eddie snarked.

2. Welcome home cheater (brand new wip)

I sadly haven't had much time to write anything to share for this one, but I do have the premise thanks to today's stills 😁. Buck sees how close Eddie and Tommy are and is definitely not jealous. At all. Jealous Buck is going to be priceless!!!

Ask about my wips!

#daffi 💚#tag game #my writing #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #fanfic #911 #911 abc

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honestlydarkprincess · 1 month

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STUBBLE FIC!!!

*clears throat*

ahem sorry .. uh stubble fic please?

SLDKJF Ilysm hehe<3

They raced to Eddie’s bedroom and as soon as Buck was inside, Eddie was pushing him against the door and capturing his lips in a harsh kiss. Buck moaned, the delicious scrape of Eddie’s stubble burning his skin. They made out against the door and Buck just knew that by the end of the night he was going to have beard burn all over.

Finally Eddie pulled away, breathing heavily as he took in the pretty picture Buck made, his lips puffy and his eyes dark. “Fuck, baby. You look so good,” Eddie’s hand came up to trace Buck’s lips. His fingers trailed down Buck’s cheek and down his neck. He stopped on Buck’s pulse, resting his thumb there. He could feel it hammering under his touch and Eddie smiled.

“Eddie,” Buck whimpered, leaning into Eddie’s touch. “I need more.”

“Yeah?” Eddie whispered, ghosting his lips across Buck’s cheek and whispering in his ear, “What do you need?”

Buck shivered, breathing heavily. “W-whatever you’ll give me.”

ask me about my wips

#the stubble fic #jess.writes #my writing #my wips #buddie #buddie wip #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 #911 abc #daffi tag #daffi-990 #jess gets mail! 💌

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artsygreeen · 1 month

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Bugs is "I wanna be perfect" from Black swan.

Daffy is "I wanna be one of the greats" from Whiplash.

#i desperately hope u get the vision #hol up I'll write a long ass summary of this later.#bugs bunny #the looney tunes show #looney tunes #baffy #bugs x daffy #daffy duck #looney tunes cartoons #Like!!! you know!! the themes!!

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razzle-zazzle · 2 months

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to the roots

7089 Words; Discolored

TW for discussions of Parental Abandonment and Child Neglect, kidnapping

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @ninja-go-to-therapy!!! 🎂🎉🎉🎉

AO3 ver

“Branch? Sweetie, is that you?”

The voice that cut across the clearing was unfamiliar, a sugary lilt that crawled up Branch’s back and had him turning around. Before him stood two unfamiliar trolls, older than him by a significant margin. They looked like they could be John Dory’s age. Branch had never seen them before in his life.

The Troll on the left had teal fur and dandelion-yellow hair, a curled mustache in a style that Branch was pretty sure was only popular when Peppy was young. Even his felt overalls looked old-fashioned in the style of the cuffs and straps, despite the fabric itself looking relatively new. The Troll to the right had lavender fur and magenta hair, crows feet clinging to her eyes and a soft smile on her face. The handkerchief tying her hair back looked to be the same cut as her dress, soft floral pattern along the hems. Even the basket on her arm had flowers sewn along the handle.

There was something familiar about them. Branch had never seen either of them before. His paws clenched and unclenched around the sticks in his paws, an indiscernible feeling clawing its way up his throat.

Branch scowled. “I’m sorry, who are you?” He didn’t know these people, didn’t know why they had seemingly come looking for him specifically. The lack of knowledge prickled against his spine, harsh and discordant. Branch fought down a growl building in his throat.

The Troll on the left smiled. “C’mon Branchy, it’s Belladonna and Daffodil! Your parents!” He stepped forwards, paws spread wide. “Surely your brothers told you about us?”

Branch froze. Once again, he looked the two Trolls up and down, taking in every detail. He could see the resemblance. Belladonna’s face was blocky like John Dory’s, her lavender fur a near perfect match to Grandma Rosiepuff. Her magenta hair had streaks of gray running through it, and was swept back with a tied handkerchief, but the swooping bangs were unmistakable, and the violet ends splayed out wildly. She smiled, small and soft like Floyd when Branch made him his favorite tea.

Daffodil was altogether more petite, narrow shoulders set just below Belladonna’s, and the teal of his fur didn’t exactly match any of Branch’s brothers. But the yellow of his hair, tinged with green at the roots, was a near-perfect match for Clay’s. He tilted his head—and wow, his eyes were the exact same as Floyd’s. Uncanny.

Branch clenched and unclenched his paws, the bark of the sticks rough against his paw pads. Reassuring. He could see the resemblance. He really could. But—

“Why’d you come back?” The question came out like an accusation, sharp in the air. That wasn’t Branch’s intent, but he couldn’t take back his tone, so it wasn’t worth fretting over.

“Why, to meet you.” Belladonna tittered. “We went back to the old tree a few years ago, and found it completely empty!” She pressed her paws together, tail limp against the ground. “The shock of it all made it clear to us what we missed by leaving for so long.” She sighed, and Daffodil took up the story.

“When we thought that you had died, we were just plain heartbroken.” Daffodil lamented, mustache drooping along with his tail. “What kind of parents were we, that we left you for so long?” He wrung his paws together. “But then we see you and your brothers performing that perfect family harmony on the Mount Rageous big screens, and we realize—”

“—That our baby boy is still alive.” Belladonna finished, eyes soft. She stepped forwards, tentatively reaching out a paw. “When we realized we had been given a second chance, well, we just had to take it.”

Branch stared at her outstretched paw. “Why?” Suspicion wrapped around his chest like an old friend. Something about this wasn’t right. Branch had literally never met his parents before—why would they come back now?

Belladonna’s head tilted. “Why?” She repeated, like the very question made no sense to her.

“Why now?” Branch grumbled, tail lashing behind him. “You never cared before.” It was an accusation spoken softly, yet still barbed and guarded.

Belladonna winced. “I know.” She said. She gestured to the basket hanging on her arm, “Why don’t you join us for a picnic? It’ll be more fun than standing around in some random clearing.” She smiled, hopeful, and suddenly Branch felt like a pinned bug. Did he go with them? Or did he retreat to the safety of what he knew, away from the uncertainty standing before him?

Branch wondered what Poppy would say. Wait, no, scratch that—Branch knew exactly what Poppy would say. He’d been in this same situation barely two weeks ago with his brothers, after all. And if they had come back…

Sighing, Branch stepped forwards. “Fine.” He decided, adjusting his hold on the sticks in his arms. “But no funny business.” As far as he was concerned, the two trolls before him were still strangers.

Belladonna and Daffodil beamed, before turning and making their way towards one of the trees. “C’mon, your father spotted a good spot to set up in the branches.” Belladonna urged, making her way up.

Branch followed his maybe-parents up the tree, reluctantly leaving his bundle of sticks behind in the crook of one of the roots in order to haul himself up with hair and paw. It wasn’t long before they were walking along the branches, Belladonna coming to a stop at a spot that she deemed appropriate.

Branch didn’t like how high up he was. He knew he could use his hair to parachute safely if he fell, but—

The branch they were on was too exposed to the sky, in Branch’s opinion. Weren’t his parents worried about birds? Even a squirrel could become a massive problem if it decided this was a good branch to run along.

But Belladonna was humming softly, the tune unfamiliar to Branch as she laid out the blanket patterned with forget-me-nots, basket open beside her. As she busied herself with setting things up, Daffodil sidled over to Branch, mirth in his eyes.

“I see you’re wearing my old vest.” Daffodil chuckled, eyes crinkling.

Branch stepped back. “I got it from Floyd.” He growled. If these two were only going to tell lies—

“And where do you think our little rosebud got it from?” Belladonna asked, from where she was unloading the basket.

“He—” Branch cut himself off. Even back then, in his fuzzy memories of his brothers all together, Floyd’s vest had been worn, faded slightly—but surely that was just because he had had it for so long, right? It had fit Floyd too well to have been made for someone else.

But Daffodil had the near exact same body type as Floyd, Branch realized.

“It suits you.” Daffodil commented. Branch waited to see if his maybe-father would say anything more, but the older troll seemed content to leave it at that.

Belladonna finished laying out the spread, the small selection of food arranged artfully upon the blanket. There was a small plate of four sandwiches, a pitcher of stoutberry juice, a bowl of fluffleberries—there was even a small selection of sandwich ingredients. As far as picnic spreads went, it was pretty impressive. Belladonna sat down, patting the space beside her, and Daffodil sat down next to her with a wide grin.

Branch clenched and unclenched his paws, and moved to sit on the edge of the blanket opposite his probably-parents. If either of them noticed the apprehension coming off of him in waves, neither commented on it.

“I guess you’ll be wanting an explanation.” Daffodil started, around bites of his sandwich.

Branch nodded, ignoring the sandwich that Belladonna offered him. She shrugged, returning the sandwich to the plate, and took up the story. “There’s not much to tell, really.” She admitted. “When we had little Dory, we weren’t ready to be parents.” She took a bite from her own sandwich, and Daffodil picked up the thread.

“I was only fifteen or so, and Bell here is only a few months older.” He picked up his own sandwich, and tore off a bite. “My mother-in-law was pretty pissed when she found out!” He chuckled, before taking the bite. “Tore me a new one.” He mumbled.

“We did love little Dory,” Belladonna continued, pouring stoutberry juice into two cups. Branch waved off the empty cup she held out to him, and she shrugged before continuing. “Really. But we just…” She sighed, her eyes darting to her bracelet. It was weirdly plain, off-white threads braided together with no charms or color. “And then Spruce came along.” She continued, “Barely two years later. We were relying so heavily on Mom to help handle things.” She shook her head, and nodded to Daffodil.

“By the time Clay’s egg was laid, we weren’t really… around.” He shrugged, taking a drink from his cup. “The stress just got to us, so we left.”

“We didn’t go far, the first time.” Belladonna added. “Just to another part of the tree, a little higher up.” She finished off her sandwich, wiping her paw off on a napkin. “Sweetie, aren’t you going to eat?” She gestured to the spread between them, sugar in her urging.

Branch shook his head. “Not that hungry.” He grunted. How could he eat when his throat was blocked off by a knot of emotions? Anxiety squeezed his gut, hope crept up his tail, and so many questions kept dying in his throat, piling up like crumpled poems in a wastebasket. His appetite was so far nonexistent that the thought of eating made him want to run away and vomit.

“Suit yourself.” Daffodil shrugged. “But you’re always welcome to try anything you like! You’re our son, after all!” He smiled, big and wide, and Branch couldn’t help but be reminded of John Dory’s smile—it had the same bombastic obnoxiousness, he felt.

“Okay, let’s get back on topic.” Branch wanted answers, dammit. “You said you left after Clay hatched?” He had to be—he needed to know, to put the story together and make it make sense if he ever wanted to even consider trying to trust his probably-parents.

Belladonna winced. “We… missed his hatching, actually.” She admitted. “Came back just days after.” She frowned, “We were only gone for a few weeks, too…” She sighed, picking up her cup.

Daffodil put a paw on her shoulder, drawing Belladonna from her reminiscing. “You should’ve seen little Dory and Spruce when we got back!” He offered. “Dory refused to talk to either of us for four days, but Spruce was so excited to show off his new baby brother!” He smiled fondly at the memory, before his face fell. “The story doesn’t get much better after that.” He warned.

Belladonna nodded. “Me and Daffy, we’ve always had a strong sense of wanderlust.” She took a sip from her cup before continuing. “Not even having three children could get us to really settle down. It became a regular thing, leaving for a little bit before coming back.” She finished off her juice, and grabbed the pitcher to refill it. “And our sons seemed fine in Mom’s care, so we didn’t really think about the effect that our running around would really have—”

At that moment, Branch’s Hug Timer went off. He slapped the flower shut, his attention firmly on the story. “Go on.”

Belladonna and Daffodil stared for a moment—a moment during which Branch noticed a lack of Hug Timers on their wrists, just Belladonna’s off-white bracelet—before Daffodil cleared his throat.

“We did try to stick around for Floyd’s egg, though.” Daffodil continued. “Stuck around ‘til our little rosebud finally hatched! When I tell you he was the cutest little thing…” He stroked his mustache, expression fond.

“But our wanderlust just kept coming back.” Belladonna lamented. “Even though we’d seen so much of the tree already, we just kept coming and going.” She popped a fluffleberry from the bowl in the center of the blanket into her mouth.

“Until Brozone,” Daffodil added, a glint in his eyes. “I showed Dory a few lyric writing tricks when he was little, before our own dreams were crushed by the whole parenting thing.” His tail flicked rhythmically. “And I know my sweet Bellady here—” He kissed Belladonna’s cheek, prompting a giggle, “—must have brought up the idea at some point or other.” Fond hunger settled in his eyes, and Branch forced his attention onto his probably-definitely-mother.

“But we never imagined our boys would take that old dream and make it happen!” Belladonna smiled wistfully. “It was the most time we spent actually being parents, just trying to help them schedule shows and encouraging them to go further.” She pressed her paws to her face dreamily, reminiscing. “It was going so wonderfully, the four of them were getting so popular…”

“Then what made you leave?” Branch asked, derisively. From the way it sounded, everything was going great—so why were his okay-definitely-parents-by-blood out of the picture after he came along? Something wasn’t adding up, and Branch didn’t know if he wanted to hear the answer or not.

Belladonna and Daffodil looked at each other, seeming to argue with their eyes before they turned back to Branch. Belladonna frowned. “This…” Her eyes closed as she exhaled sharply. “This is the worst part of the story, sweetie.” Her paw waved dismissively. “We’ve been talking for a while now, let’s take a break.”

“Wh—” Branch fought down a snarl, “You can’t just leave it at that!” He crossed his arms. “You said you’d explain. So explain.” He still needed the story to make sense, he needed to know why his parents never came up in the two years he had with his brothers, he couldn’t just—

But Belladonna and Daffodil were already standing, Daffodil coming around to offer his paw to Branch. “We have been talking for a while,” Daffodil pointed out.

“It’s not a light topic.” Belladonna added. “But we’ll tell you tomorrow, okay?” She offered, already moving to put everything back in the basket. “We’d hate to dump all of our problems on you after just meeting, sweetie.”

Branch stood slowly, ignoring Daffodil’s offered paw. “...fine.” He conceded. “But you better not back out on telling me what happened.” He threatened. He had enough to deal with—his parents keeping secrets was not something he was willing to add to that list. Not now, not ever.

“Of course!” Daffodil chuckled, putting a paw on Branch’s shoulder. Branch brushed the paw off, stepping back to get out of range. Daffodil only smiled at Branch’s actions, head tilting as he examined his son.

“You have your mother’s eyes.” Daffodil said softly. “I…” He huffed, tossing his head back. His expression crumpled, his tail flat against the ground. “We should have come back sooner, Branch. We shouldn’t have let our wanderlust keep us away for so long.”

Belladonna nodded, leaning forwards. “We really shouldn’t have. You’re absolutely perfect.” She fiddled with the bracelet on her wrist as she spoke, eyes locked firmly on Branch.

Something about her statement jolted against Branch’s carefully-cultivated intuition, a niggling doubt digging into his stomach like a worm in an apple. He swallowed, wrenching his gaze to the blanket his mother was folding up, to the light-blue forget-me-nots patterned across the lavender fabric. His tail brushed against the bark of the branch, agitated.

“We’re here now.” Daffodil declared, tail swishing behind him. “And we’re not gonna leave you, okay?” Belladonna came to stand beside her husband, everything neatly packed away into the basket on her arm. They looked like a picture-perfect couple together, like something straight out of an old photo album or painting. They looked like they could get along just fine without their children.

Branch’s tail curled in on itself, tucking against his legs. He took a breath, trying to clear the worries clawing up his throat—his brothers came back for him. He had let John Dory and Bruce and Clay and Floyd back into his life—what were two more family members into the fold?

“Okay.” Branch breathed. The trio began to trek down the branch towards the trunk, and Branch let himself fall into a comfortable silence as he followed his parents down.

When they reached the roots, Branch gathered up his sticks again, regarding his parents one last time. “Tomorrow.” He grunted. If they thought about backing out…

“Tomorrow.” Belladonna agreed, reaching into her dress pocket. She pulled out a bracelet almost—no, exactly like her own, with the same braided off-white threads. “Here,” She offered, holding the bracelet out. “A promise bracelet. So you know we want to make this work.”

Branch regarded the bracelet suspiciously. It was so plain that he couldn’t help but wonder what the catch was… but at the same time, it was so plain that Branch couldn’t think of any conceivable nefarious purpose. His eyes flicked to Belladonna’s bracelet.

Branch groaned, shifting the sticks so he could hold out his paw. Belladonna beamed, and carefully slid the bracelet onto his wrist, just below his Hug Timer. She tugged at it, and it contracted, snug around Branch’s wrist. His eyes widened.

“Pretty special, huh?” Daffodil leaned in. “Promise bracelets are charged with the same kind of energy made by a Pinky Promise.” He explained. “They’re impossible to lose.”

“So that the promises they represent can’t be broken.” Belladonna added softly, clasping Branch’s paw in her own.

Branch swallowed, jaw tightening. He’d have to check the village library for scrapbooks on promise bracelets. He withdrew his paw from Belladonna’s so that he could hold the sticks more comfortably, the bracelet a constant presence against his wrist. But it wasn’t tight enough to hurt, so Branch fought the feeling down.

Belladonna smiled, twirling in place with a giggle. “We’ll see you tomorrow!” She chirped, before she and Daffodil turned to head off to… wherever they were staying, Branch supposed. As he watched them go, a knot of hope and anxiety clung to his fur, his tail flicking behind him.

Ugh, whatever. Branch turned to return to his bunker. The picnic had been unexpected, but surely…

Whatever would come of all of this, Branch didn’t know. But he was going to get some answers, if nothing else, and that was enough to satisfy him. It’d have to be—he couldn’t allow himself to expect anything more.

+=+=+=+=+

“Something on your mind?”

Branch looked up at the sound of Floyd’s voice, clenching and unclenching his paws against the mug clasped in them. His brother was staring at him fondly through sleep-frizzed bangs, mug of tea on the table before him.

Branch glanced over to the other side of the table. John Dory didn’t stay the night every night, but here he was, puttering into the kitchen while humming an old Brozone song under his breath.

“Just thinking.” Branch responded, his gaze returning to his coffee. Thoughts about his parents had been swirling around in his head all night, muddled and mixed up with his usual worries. They claimed to be hoping to reconnect, but something about that picnic the day before just felt… weird.

But Branch’s brothers had come back, hadn’t they? And they were even making an effort to reconnect and keep in touch—Floyd was living in his bunker, after all, and John Dory was sticking around! Clay was busy helping Viva with the Putt-Putt Trolls’ end of the connecting route between the golf course and Trollstopia, and Bruce had his business and family, but they were staying in contact. Surely, if all of Branch’s brothers could come back into his life with no strings attached, then why couldn’t his parents? They’d even given him a promise bracelet—though all the examples Branch found in the library scrapbooks had had more color to them than the one he was wearing.

But… maybe it was the years of isolation. Maybe Branch was being paranoid, letting his fear trickle into his brain and poison his thoughts. But yet… if his parents wanted to reconnect, then why wouldn’t they start with the sons they actually met? Rhonda was difficult to hide—and John Dory wasn’t making any effort to do so, either—and it was well-known throughout the village that the armadillo-bus was where John Dory had taken up residence. Why wouldn’t they go there first?

Maybe they had. Maybe Branch was just getting too caught in his own head. He did that a lot, it felt, worrying over what everyone else was sure was nothing. And more often than not, it felt like it was everyone else who was right.

“Thinkin’ hard over there, Bit—Branch?” John Dory prompted, plate in one paw as he grabbed a chair to pull out.

“What were our parents like?” Branch glanced up at the end of his question. He immediately regretted blurting it out—but he couldn’t take the words back and bury them, no matter how much he wanted to.

It was a long moment before John Dory responded, face harsh and still like a statue, snarl building in the back of his throat.

“Awful.” John Dory grunted, knuckles white from gripping the back of the chair. “The absolute worst.” He set his plate down on the table with more force than necessary, sending a few bits of egg flying onto the table. “Always ducking in and out of our lives whenever it was convenient for them—” John Dory cut off with a snarl, whirling away from the table with savage force. “GAH! They just—I—Oh, I hate them so much!” He threw his paws in the air, tail smacking the table leg as it lashed in agitation. “If they ever show their sorry faces around here, I’ll—AAGH!”

As John Dory stomped off, his breakfast apparently forgotten, Branch released the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. His paws clenched and unclenched around his mug, new worries fluttering around in his head. Floyd took a conspicuously long sip of tea, staring at nothing in particular. His tail was curled around the legs of his chair, discomfort radiating off of him in waves.

Branch wished he’d kept his mouth shut. Familiar panic ebbed in like an old friend, and he had to fight down the hackles his body had raised. Right. So his parents hadn’t gone to John Dory first, then—and for good reason, if the way John Dory had been muttering as he stormed off was any indication.

Branch forced his attention to slide away from the encroaching anxiety and onto Floyd, who was staring resolutely at the table. Branch almost opened his mouth, ready to ask if Floyd had any clarification—he shut his mouth. Nope. He’d already made one brother blow up, there was no way Branch was going to incur a repeat with the others. He’d just sit here, then, in his own little stress-filled bubble, and regret ever opening his stupid mouth.

“Soooo,” Floyd began, cutting through the silence more awkwardly than John Dory at his most bombastic. “Did Poppy make that bracelet for you?” He tried, bringing Branch’s attention back to the white promise bracelet hugging his wrist.

“Sure.” Branch responded, lifting his mug to his mouth and taking a long sip of coffee. He was not about to bring up his parents again—one brother blowing up at him was enough.

Silence reigned for another long moment. Branch half-considered blurting the truth out then and there, and dismissed the thought.

Once again, Floyd was the first to break the silence. “Why’d you ask about…” Floyd cut himself off, reconsidering his words before he started again, “what got you so curious about our parents?” His paws remained clasped around his mug, and his eyes kept darting away from Branch every second.

Branch shrugged, swallowing down any notions of the truth. “Guess seeing Bruce with his kids got me curious.” The lie fell from his mouth easily, his gut turning at the lack of doubt on Floyd’s face. “Sorry.” Branch added. For the question or the lie, he wasn’t sure. “It was a stupid question. I never even met them.” His own tail curled around his legs nervously.

Floyd hummed noncommittally, bringing his mug to his mouth once again. The silence stretched on uncomfortably, Branch’s coffee barely room temperature when he got back to drinking it.

They sat like that, John Dory’s breakfast slowly getting cold as Branch worked his way through his coffee instead of through his thoughts. After a while of sitting in suffocating silence, Branch pushed his chair out and stood.

“I’m gonna head out,” He muttered, grabbing John Dory’s abandoned plate on his way to the sink. “You want anything?” He really hoped Floyd would come with him. He really hoped he could have some time alone. Branch shoved the knot of feelings down and focused on packing away John Dory’s abandoned breakfast in a jar to put in the fridge; John Dory could come back for it later if he wanted.

Floyd hummed noncommittally. “‘M fine.” He mumbled into his mug. “Are you?” There was something oddly pointed to his question, a sharp invitation that made Branch want to tear down his walls just long enough to spill everything—

Branch shut the fridge with more force than was perhaps necessary. “Just peachy.” He grit out, unable to bring himself to turn around to face his brother. “I…” He sighed, heavy and tired. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I just…” He fumbled for the words, staring at his closed fridge.

“It’s okay.” Floyd’s voice was quiet, “We can talk about it later.” He offered.

Branch grimaced. “Yeah.” He mumbled, tail twisting anxiously. “Later.” Deep down, he knew that if he pushed it off he would never stop—

Branch shook his head. He’d talk about it with Floyd later. He would. He just… his parents had promised the rest of the explanation today, his bracelet snug around his wrist as a reminder, and Branch wanted to hear that, first. Then he’d be able to tell Floyd about them coming back.

Yeah. It would all work out. Branch made his way to the elevator feeling considerably lighter than moments before, a sense of calm starting to finally settle in his chest over the whole situation. His worries remained, of course, but Branch felt more ready to confront them.

He was going to get some answers.

+=+=+=+=+

Belladonna and Daffodil had already set up by the time Branch made it up the tree around lunch time. The spread was similar to last time, with the same pitcher and bowl of fluffleberries—but with a plate of sprinkleberry pie instead of sandwiches. Branch swallowed at the sight of it, his traitorous mind darting to Poppy—why hadn’t he told her about his parents coming back? He’d certainly had enough opportunity, but it had seemingly never come up in the twenty-four or so hours since they had first approached him.

Whatever. Branch shook off the worry and forced himself to sit down on the edge of the blanket, brushing his paw over the promise bracelet. Belladonna nudged the pitcher his way, and Branch poured himself a cup of stoutberry juice. Daffodil cut a slice of pie and offered the plate to Branch, who took it after a moment of hesitation.

For a few moments, none of them said anything, just sitting there on the picnic blanket eating. Branch picked at his slice of pie slowly, unable to eat much past the rising anticipation. The bracelet was a constant reminder around his wrist, always noticeable.

“So.” Branch started, clenching and unclenching his paws around his cup.

“So.” Belladonna jokingly repeated, grabbing a fluffleberry from the bowl.

Branch glared. Belladonna smiled pleasantly, unperturbed by her son’s annoyance.

“You promised an explanation.” Branch continued, setting his cup down. His tail was twitching rapidly behind him, and it was taking all of his energy not to pull out a stick and start whittling. “About why you disappeared after…” He swallowed, the words getting caught in his throat. “After my egg was laid.”

“We did.” Belladonna agreed. She popped another fluffleberry into her mouth and chewed it slowly, seemingly contemplating her words before she swallowed. “We wanted to stay.” Belladonna said. “We were going to.” She sighed.

“We were so excited!” Daffodil continued, setting down his empty plate. “We’d had your egg on one of our… excursions.” He went back to the pie to cut himself another slice.

Belladonna nodded. “And the moment we realized we were with egg, we went right back to Mom’s pod with all the boys.” She clasped her paws together. “You were going to be perfect, we just knew. We showed your egg to little Dory—”

“And that was the beginning of the end,” Daffodil growled. “After everything that we had done for him, for all of them, he just—” He cut himself off with a huff, digging back into his slice of pie.

“You have to understand, sweetie.” Belladonna’s face softened, for a moment looking like the fifty-seven year old that she was. “We didn’t leave because of our wanderlust, we left because Dory cut us out.”

Branch froze, nearly dropping his cup of stoutberry juice. “What?” His voice came out quieter than he intended, in the sudden heaviness of the air. John Dory had… but that didn’t… “What do you mean, cut out?” Why would John Dory ever…

Branch was at a loss. His tail was flat against the ground, his paws gripping the cup tightly, the promise bracelet tight around his wrist. His half-eaten slice of pie remained forgotten in front of him as the world seemed to tilt.

“It was some silly fight,” Belladonna waved off. “I can hardly even remember what it was about! But, eh, Little Dory was always so headstrong…” She wrung her paws together. “Once he had an idea in his head, there was no changing his mind.” She shook her head with a shrug, as if to dismiss the thought.

Branch nodded. He hadn’t gotten the chance to know his older brother for as long as his parents had, but from what he had seen? Yeah, John Dory was stubborn. He lifted his cup back to his mouth for another sip.

“He got it from you, babe.” Daffodil teased, tail flirting back and forth as he leaned in towards Belladonna. “Shame he didn’t get your sweet sense of humor.” He purred, his paw sliding up Belladonna’s arm. “But maybe if we try again…” He pressed a kiss to his wife’s wrist, slowly making his way up her arm with quick smooches while Belladonna giggled.

“Charmer.” Belladonna pushed at Daffodil’s face with her paw, hiding her smile behind the other. She turned back to where Branch was struggling not to inhale the juice he’d managed not to spit back into the cup. “Oh, your face!” She snickered, covering her mouth with both paws.

Branch’s tail thumped the ground in annoyance as he coughed, his near-empty cup back to sitting on the blanket. “What’s wrong with it.” He hated being laughed at. He hated not knowing why. He also hated almost choking on his drink, but that was a given.

“It’s okay to be grossed out by your parents flirting, son.” Daffodil chuckled. “All kids do it.” He stroked his mustache, reminiscing. “Ah, I remember the night when your mom and I were bringing Floyd’s egg into the world… the look on Spruce’ face when he walked in on us… ah, if only Bell here had locked the door instead of the cuffs—”

“Okay okay that’s enough!” Branch held out his paws, horrified. Ew ew ew, he did not need to hear that!

“See?” Daffodil grinned. “Perfectly normal.”

“Back on topic,” Branch urged, desperate to get away from watching his parents try to undress each other with their eyes, “John Dory just… cut you out?” It made a terrible kind of sense, as much as Branch hated the thought.

Belladonna nodded. “Took your egg and gave us the boot.” She confirmed.

“Told us we weren’t welcome around anymore.” Daffodil added, “That he had things ‘handled’.” He picked his plate back up to scrape the remains of the pie into his mouth, and Belladonna spoke next.

“We did try to come back.” She took Branch’s cup and refilled it without asking. Branch didn’t have the energy to make a thing of it, numbly accepting the refilled cup. “But Dory chased us off every time.” There was something almost bitter in her lamentations, some sour chord hidden in her voice.

Daffodil shrugged. “We gave up, after the first few tries.” He added. “Gave into our wanderlust and managed to leave the tree entirely.” He brushed crumbs out of his mustache and sighed.

“We should have come back sooner,” Belladonna lamented. Her mouth spread in a small, tentative smile, her tail flicking behind her. “But… we’re here now,” She affirmed, “And we’re not wasting this chance.”

“Even if John Dory tries to chase you off again?” Branch asked, taking another drink from his cup. His slice of pie was pretty much a lost cause, at this point, with the way his stomach was churning.

Belladonna chuffed. “Oh, no, that won’t be a problem.” She waved off, “Not where we’re going.”

Once again, the world seemed to tilt, the air heavy around Branch as his mother’s words hit him. “But—you said you were sticking around?” No, no, he shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up, he was just going to get left again—

“Of course!” Daffodil assured. “You’ll be sticking with us! It just won’t be here.” His words did not abate Branch’s rising uncertainty in the slightest.

“We can’t tie ourselves down to one place,” Belladonna offered, scooting across the blanket to be closer to Branch. “And I know my Mom is dead…” Her face fell, for a moment, before she recollected herself. “But we want you to come with us, see the world.” She held out her paws invitingly. “We’ve even got songs put together for you to sing onstage.” She sounded so pleased with herself.

“Yes, a family tour!” Daffodil spread his paws invitingly, mustache twitching. “You and us, traveling around, playing songs for the crowd… the perfect way for our little family to bond!” His voice was proud and eager, his tail waving rhythmically behind him.

But something about his explanation caught on Branch’s intuition. “Just me?” He asked, paws clenching and unclenching around his cup. The bracelet was starting to feel like a chain, tight and heavy on his wrist.

“Well, there’s no way Dory would ever agree,” Belladonna waved her paw. “And we came back for you, sweetie.” There was something in her eyes that had Branch bristling ever so slightly, some hunger he couldn’t explain, and didn’t want to think about.

“It’d be a lot less crowded with just three of us, too!” Daffodil chuckled. “And I’m sure your brothers aren’t looking to be performing anytime soon—we saw the events on Mount Rageous, after all.” He nodded, stroking his mustache. “Floyd could use a nice break.”

“Are you joking?” Branch’s voice came out harsher than he wanted. He didn’t care. “I just—they just came back into my life, and you want me to leave?” He stood, itching to throw his cup at the blanket.

“It’d only be for a few months.” Belladonna uttered, gesturing for Branch to sit back down. “We just want to get to know you again, baby.”

But Branch remained standing. “No way.” He said, squeezing the cup in his paws. Clench, unclench. “I’ve got a life here—” He chuckled darkly, catching his lashing tail in one paw. “Not like you’d know.” He added, bitter.

“Branch, please.” Belladonna’s voice was sharp, almost sour; the contrast from her sugary sweetness was a prickle under Branch’s fur. “We wanna make you a star—is it really too much to ask?”

Branch stumbled back, hackles raising. “You—” He didn’t have the words. In what world could his parents possibly think this would go over well? “You said you wanted to connect.” He managed, clutching his cup tightly, eyes darting to his promise bracelet.

“And we do,” Daffodil stood, offering a paw to Belladonna to help her up. “But Branchy, there’s no way we can stick around here—”

“Because John Dory will just chase you off again!” Branch shouted. “That’s it, isn’t it? Why you’re sneaking around and trying to make me come with you on some—some desperate attempt at fame!” He shoulders heaved, and he waved his cup around wildly as he spoke, spilling a bit of juice in the process. He couldn’t believe this. How could he have possibly let himself think that there wouldn’t be strings attached? He should have known when the bracelet first tightened against his wrist—nothing came for free. Not for him.

“Branch, you need to understand,�� Daffodil started, “We really do want to know you, but if Dory finds out—”

Branch held up a paw, expression thunderous. “Don’t.” He snarled. “Save your excuses.” If John Dory would really be so belligerent about their parents—and after what happened this morning, Branch didn’t doubt that one bit—there had to be a reason. “You want me to come on tour with you? Then make amends with John Dory first.” He walked over and shoved his cup into Belladonna’s hands, before turning towards the trunk.

Branch turned back one last time, regarding his parents. Anger bubbled up his throat, but resignation kept his mouth shut. Of course there were strings attached, an underlying motive. What else was there to expect? Branch could never be so lucky—not like this.

With a snarl, Branch grasped the bracelet, “And you can keep your tacky brace—”

It wouldn’t come off.

“This stupid—” Branch growled, digging in his claws, but the bracelet didn’t budge. If anything, it almost felt like it got tighter. “Oh, fuck this.” Branch groused. He turned his attention back to his parents. “I have scissors at home, and when I’m done your tacky bracelet is going in the trash!” He shouted. “Just like my trust!”

Oh, that was stupid—why did he say that? Branch shoved down the embarrassment, turning away from his parents. As he started to make his way down the tree, Branch shoved any thoughts about telling his brothers about their parents’ return to the back of his mind. Belladonna and Daffodil could handle that announcement themselves. Either they’d leave and Branch would never hear from them again, or—if they really wanted in on his life—they’d put in the same effort with his brothers. Hopefully without stupid off-white bracelets that refused to come off.

Belladonna watched Branch descend the tree, face pinched in annoyance. Wordlessly, Daffodil took her arm, his tail twining in hers. She sighed, passing off Branch’s cup to Daffodil, freeing her paws to fiddle with the bracelet on her right wrist.

“He’ll come around.” Daffodil said softly, leaning up against his wife.

“I know.” Belladonna sighed. “I just hoped he’d make it easy.” Her expression darkened, before it softened again. She turned back to the blanket.

“Let’s get this cleaned up.”

+=+=+=+=+

Branch groaned as he came to. What had hit him?

His whole body felt heavy, sluggish, his head pounding like he’d been to one of Poppy’s wilder parties. The floor under him rumbled faintly, steady vibrations pounding up his spine into his already-pounding skull.

Branch glanced around, looking for Poppy so he could ask her who spiked the punch and how much he had—

This wasn’t his bunker. This wasn’t Trollstopia, or Pop Village. This was a vaguely-homey space he didn’t recognize, small but cozy and completely unfamiliar. There was a vanity against the wall across from him, two bunks to his right, and when Branch managed to force his aching head to look to his left—

There was a small kitchenette against the wall, but Branch found himself skimming over that as his horror slowly mounted. Just past the kitchenette and small booth was a driver’s seat, familiar in shape and yet so so different from Rhonda’s. And sitting in that seat was none other than Daffodil, cheerily humming as he focused out the windshield before him.

Oh god. It was all coming back now—Branch had never attended any party Poppy had thrown—he’d made it back to his bunker, brushed off Floyd’s questions, and set out again—

He’d never made it back to his bunker.

Branch moved to stand, his chest pounding with a wild fear he hadn’t felt since Poppy had come to his bunker to tell him about the Bergens returning. He needed—

Branch tried to stand again, twisting back when he failed for the second time. The slight pressure around his chest resolved itself as a harness clipped to the wall, the cord too short for Branch to scoot more than a few centimeters forwards. His body threatened to collapse in on itself, his breaths getting quicker as panic wrapped cold hands around his throat. This wasn’t happening. His parents hadn’t just—there was no way—it couldn’t—no no no—

“Shh shh,” A crooning voice, a soft paw carding through his hair. “It’s okay, sweetie,” Belladonna sang sweetly, “It’s okay. Momma’s here.”

Branch tried to pull away, to push her and the encroaching pressure squeezing his chest off, but his limbs were heavy, slow, clumsy. He pawed at the air as Belladonna pressed up against him, an arm around his back pulling him tight against her. She cooed, whispering sickly sweet reassurance into Branch’s hair as he squirmed, like this was fine and normal and not fucked up at all.

“Doncha worry, Sprout!” Daffodil called out cheerily from the driver’s seat. “You’ll thank us for this!”

Branch would not be thanking his parents for—for trollnapping him! In what world—

“Shhhhhh,” Belladonna took Branch’s paw in hers, drawing his attention to the bracelet she had given him earlier—and to the missing Hug Timer. It was the same plain off-white as before, but with faint strands of sky blue and dusky gray running through it now. Branch couldn’t fathom what it was possibly for. That his Hug Timer was missing was more worrying.

The critter-bus hit a bump in whatever road it was traveling. Branch jolted, panic rising anew like the bile climbing his throat. This wasn’t—this wasn’t real, he was just having the world’s most stressful fever dream—

“It’s okay, Guppy.” Belladonna whispered, holding Branch tightly through his panic. “Momma’s here, it’s alright, you’re okay.” She smiled sweetly, her weight pinning Branch in place in a way that was only vaguely comforting. “Momma’s here,” She repeated, voice sickly sweet.

“And she’s gonna make you a star.”

#zaz writes #dreamworks trolls #discolored #branch trolls #floyd trolls #john dory trolls #belladonna & daffodil #parental abandonment #implied child neglect #kidnapping #okay damage fans you know what this is >:]#look i love the ''the bros' parents were eaten by bergens'' hc and in general that's the one i ascribe to #but for the purposes of discolored: what if they weren't. and what if they sucked #there's a lot of backstory that bella & daffy are NOT saying or simply. downplaying #take their words with a grain of salt fr fr

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that-rackin-frackin-varmint · 4 months

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LT Back in Action: The fight for Artistic Integrity

I feel like we've commonly identified how in Back in Action, Daffy and DJ were so obviously mirrors of each other with their ambition to go beyond their current positions to be valued by their respective peers. But I don't see people make the connection on how Bugs and Kate's dynamic seemed to serve as a representation of Bugs' balancing act of preserving the remnants of his classic personalities against the growing passage of time and everchanging censorship standards.

The movie makes many references to audience demographics, PC culture, how corporate interest stifles creatives, the fumbling upper management -- all very prevalent subjects for the looney tunes characters. But for this film's focus, we see how it affects the film's leads.

Daffy gets his suggestions shot down in the writing room, his input is undermined by the execs, and was ultimately manipulated into starring in a film without express consent or autonomy. His insistence in pursuing the blue monkey was a deliberate refusal to internalise his debilitating loss of identity after he got fired.

DJ's a secret nepo baby who -- aside from not exactly getting as much recognition for his contributions to the films Brendan Fraser starred in -- seems to be living a rather cushy life judging from the interior of his house. The ending seems to suggest that he was involved in blind-siding Daffy because of his ambition to be more than a security guard. So he was just as much a pawn.

Kate is the newbie Head of Comedy, who is absolutely miscasted for the job and is clinging on for dear life to maintain this seemingly important position by doing what her higher ups want her to do. But because her higher ups are incompetent at knowing what works with audiences -- the moment shit hits the fan, they will absolutely use her as a scapegoat.

And Bugs has to navigate studio politics to pull strings for himself, seems to be well-versed in baby-talking the Warner Brothers into submission, and has developed a far removed capacity for emotional vulnerability. This limitation in expression seems like a learned tactic as he adeptly dodges Daffy's invitations for genuine connection throughout the film. Which makes this version of Bugs particularly best identified for his emotional constipation.

What this goes to show is that these characters were able to convey the struggles, frustrations and burnout that comes with creatives in their continuous battle against the hand that feeds them. Which I find makes this movie all the more timeless, and prevalent in our modern day.

#melon ramble🍉#looney tunes #bugs bunny #daffy duck #looney tunes lore #looney tunes back in action #not very baffy centric. cuz sometimes i feel this movie deserves to be acknowledged for its writing beyond baffy's dynamic #don't worry though. i still have a lot of baffy rambles queued up from years back lol #i feel a lil weird for not going so far off the deep end with this essay.#something about wanting to ease y'all into the inner machinations of my mind #so if y'all got further thoughts. pls lemme know

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drink-tang-gang · 1 year

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I think one of the funniest aspects of Baffy is that, Bugs is down BAD, but would rather eat dirt before admitting it.

Like he could re-arrange the entire universe for Daffy and trip him on the next morning. And bcs Daffy doesn’t know he despises Bugs ( on a very surface level bcs deep down he also cares)

yes that's exactly it! We've seen as much in bia haven't we?? it's implied Bugs knows the entire movie was going on just so Daffy could have his limelight. I even love in Bah Humduck Bugs has no purpose in the story. Like at all. Except to tease Daffy and play around with him <3 Bugs lives for that. He doesn't have to be the cool-headed joe he's gotten reduced to (at that time period) he can be his zany trickster self around him and for that alone Bugs would give him the world <3

Daffy cares too, despite his grumblings! Who tf else would burrow with Bugs? Who else would let Bugs be in charge of the map and over-prepare for when he inevitably takes a wrong direction?? Man I love these two.

#Bugs willing to do anything for daffy isn't even subtext thats just plain text my guys <3 #again bugs doesn't have many very close friends to be a lil shit around and Daffy is so unpredictable and able to perfectly bounce off of #whatever Bugs/ life throws at him. Bugs a d m i r e s him for pete's sake #and Bugs' ego levels r thru the roof he'd rather be erased than have Daffy find out #I'm sad bye bye bunny got canned I rly feel like the writing was gonna focus on B/D's stage dynamic again and touch on that Bia attachment #:(((#looney tunes #baffy #I love these tunes bein physically literally unequipped to be That Deep with each other like they ain't out here sayin 'i love you'#nah they're dropping anvils on each other #Bugs memorizes Daffy's favorite pies and homemakes them just so he can slap him in the face with it. That's just how tunes express #their love <3 #isn’t that lovely? (ask tag)

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daffi-990 · 1 month

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✨ Inspiration Saturday ✨

So instead of working on the WIPs I already have, my brain decided to think up a new one 😅

Current working title is LA Lonely and here is a mood board and a rough little summary:

Buck meets Eddie and they hook up. Buck feels an instant connection but doesn’t pursue it because he’s only good for one night, no one wants him for keeps. Cue him running into Eddie almost everywhere he goes, like the universe keeps putting Eddie in his path. And Eddie is kind and never makes their interactions feel awkward and the way he smiles at Buck has something warm fluttering to life inside him. Eddie eventually asks him out on a proper date and Buck is so confused because no one wants him for more than a fun time. They don’t want to keep him.

(snippet under the cut)

“Buck!”

Buck turns towards the voice calling his name to find none other than Christopher from the class field trip at the station last week walking towards him, red crutches click clacking against the floor.

“Hey Chris! What brings you here? Another school field trip?”

Chris scrunches his face up, looking at Buck like he’s grown a second head.

“It’s Saturday.”

“Right. I knew that, I was just checking to see if you did.” Buck says as he points his finger at Chris causing the boy to giggle.

Buck scoots over on the bench making room for Chris to sit down beside him.

“Are your mum or dad with you?” Buck asks as he scans the room behind them for a frantic parent.

“My mum’s dead.”

Oh. Well. Buck has no idea what to do with that.

“Uh, I’m sorry buddy, that’s uh- that’s rough.” He looks around the room again. “What about your Da-“

“Christopher!”

Buck’s head whips around to find a man striding towards them. As he draws closer, Buck's eyes widen in recognition and disbelief because shit, Buck knows him - has seen him naked, felt his body pressed against his own as the guy shoved his cock so deep inside Buck he swore he could feel it in his throat. The memory of their encounter is still fresh in Buck’s mind a week later because it was that good.

“Dad!” Chris says happily, smiling bright and big and holy fuck his hot hookup who gave him one of the best orgasms of his fucking life has a kid.

And is standing right in from on him.

Buck scrambles to his feet, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he smiles nervously at Eddie. “Uh hi.”

Eddie looks shocked to see him but it quickly melts away, his eyes softening. “Buck, hey.” His mouth quirks up in a small smile and Buck remembers exactly why he brought Eddie home last weekend. He’s so fucking pretty

No pressure tagging: @diazsdimples @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @wikiangela @puppyboybuckley @exhuastedpigeon @wildlife4life @watchyourbuck @elvensorceress @eddiebabygirldiaz @evanbegins @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @athenagranted @rainbow-nerdss @rewritetheending @shortsighted-owl @steadfastsaturnsrings @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @tizniz @devirnis @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @homerforsure @honestlydarkprincess @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @captain-hen @bekkachaos @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @missmagooglie @mellaithwen and as always, anyone else who wants to share something -> consider this your official tag ❤️

#daffi writes #wip: la lonely #working title inspired by a song of the same name -> LA Lonely by Fly By Midnight #buddie wip #buddie #I’m trying something different and am aiming to keep this cute feel goody and hopefully short 😅#haven’t written much for this #just what’s here and one other little bit #still tip tap typing away at Rivals and Fantasy AU and the Eddie breakdown fic

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hippolotamus · 12 days

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Rewatching Bridgerton Season 2 and it’s got me thinking about your Buddie Bridgerton AU ❤️

Well, hello there, Daffi! With Season 3 impending it has definitely been on my mind a lot, too. Especially now that we've gotten some delicious previews of married Kanthony. Just for you, a little spruced up snippet that takes place during the 2nd ball (master tag list here)💖

“Is there anyone here you haven’t offended yet?” Chimney quips as they enter the main room for the night’s festivities. “I suppose it’s possible,” Eddie muses. “But the night’s still young.” Chimney huffs out an amused laugh. “And your mother wonders why you haven’t remarried yet.” Eddie shoots him an irritated glare, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Speaking of Helena, she assures me there’s someone. Seeing as you’re more knowledgeable about the Ton’s goings on and gossip, who should I invest my time in?” His friend surveys the room, occasionally pausing to tilt his head as if contemplating whether someone is worth mentioning. “Well, there’s Miss Flores. Pretty, well educated, loves children.” “I feel like I’ve heard that one before. Does she have any personality? Accomplishments other than being trained to marry?” “Well, she is a private tutor. If that helps.” “Hmm,” Eddie hums, “maybe. Anyone else?” “There’s always Miss Kelly.” “As in Taylor Kelly, printing heiress?” “The one and only.” Eddie sucks in a deep breath and stiffens his spine. He’s only heard rumors about anyone unfortunate enough to become entangled with the family, but none of them are encouraging. “Let’s put that option on hold.” “If you want, I could talk to Hen and Karen. This is their soirée, after all. They might know about someone here I don’t. Maybe someone from out of town?” “It certainly can't hurt," Eddie agrees. "By all means, lead the way.”

also tagging some other moots that have shown interest in this WIP @eddiebabygirldiaz @jesuisici33 @tizniz @diazsdimples @bi-buckrights

@shipperqueen6 @monsterrae1 @statueinthestone @spotsandsocks (if i missed you i'm so sorry, no i didn't)

#hippo gets mail #hippo writes #daffi tag #fic: come close (let me be home) bridgerton #buddie wip #bridgerton au #huh... wonder who HenRen might know 🤔#maybe a certain older Buckley sibling who also happens to be looking for a husband?????#who knows?#certainly not me

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dangerpronebuddie · 18 days

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Ohh care to share a little bit about 🫂 and 💜?

Hi Daffi 💚

🫂: Buck realizes the way he and Eddie interact isn't platonic (post bucktommy):

“I ruined the best relationship you've ever been in,” he says in a haunted voice.

“No,” Buck rushes to say, taking a step towards him. Eddie automatically steps back, until his back hits the fridge. “Eddie, you are the most important relationship I've ever been in.”

Eddie frowns. “Me? But you've been-”

“I know,” Buck says, taking another step towards him. “I've been avoiding you, and keeping you at a distance, but only because I realized I've been flirting with you since we met and you probably feel so uncomfortable about it and I was just trying to-”

💜: Eddie's second oh moment

Eddie takes a deep breath, intending to explain how exactly he came to this conclusion, but what comes out instead is "I think I'm in love with Buck."

The wide eyed surprise on Bobby's face is no doubt reflected on Eddie's own.

Welp.

For maybe a solid minute, they neither one say a word. Eddie really wants to say the q word in hopes of staying busy enough for Bobby to forget he ever said it.

But the station remains silent.

Bobby blinks once, then twice, before a small smile appears on his face.

“I… wasn't planning on leading with that,” Eddie winces.

Bobby chuckles. “It's okay, kid. I'm honored that you told me.”

Make me write!

#daffi 💚#911 #buddie #fanfic #my writing #wip game

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athenagranted · 3 months

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🎁🎁🎁 <3

hi hi daffi!! here's a canon scene from blue skies!!

He stares at the photo, bile rising in his throat. He remembers the way Shannon’s pink dress (she’d always loved bright colors) had made her look like she was glowing in the sunshine; how she’d rushed to the edge of the surf and pulled Chris into the waves with her, both of their faces alight with joy. He remembers how happy he’d been that day, how lucky he’d felt to share that time with her and Christopher. He remembers the uncertainty, too, how it felt like his entire world had been tilted on its axis when she’d told him she thought she was pregnant; how desperate he’d been for something, anything to show him the way forward when he couldn’t trust himself to do it. He remembers how blindsided he’d been after the fact — how when he thought he’d finally done something right, finally earned another chance at forever with his first love, the world had ripped her away from him two times over. How the only forever she’d left him with was the endless grief that still stays nestled above his rib cage, clawing at his chest and demanding to be let out. He swallows around the lump in his throat, thinking about how he’d been so hesitant to give her an answer, how he’d been foolish to think that the world would offer him the luxury of time to figure it out. What was it that Buck had said? I don’t think I’m going to get that lucky again. From here on out, it’s all a gift. Maybe Eddie needs to take the same approach. He sets the photo down on the table and makes a decision, fishing his phone out of his pocket. The phone only rings a couple of times before his mom answers with a quick, cheerful "What are you boys up to?” “Oh, nothing,” Eddie says casually. “Just eating s’mores and watching la novela with Christopher.”

send me a 🎁 and i'll write five sentences!

#answered #daffi-990 #fic: blue skies #buddie #911 #rae writes #rae.txt

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